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envy-of-the-apple · 2 months

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Earth Kills Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 6.3k

Part two of Sun Eats Moon

Synopsis: A retelling of Sun Eats Moon in Suguru's perspective

(Warnings: forced relationships, bullying, non con touching, non con kissing)

Suguru liked you.

It wasn't even a crush. A passing interest, maybe. You were pretty. You had a nice smile. Though, he'd never directly spoken to you, he could tell that you were kind. Not in the artificial cherry most people were. Natural, like honey, never spoiling. You share the same homeroom as Satoru, and he'd always tended to be observant, unlike his friend. One thing he liked about you was how observant you were. You were constantly looking out for your friends, mere acquaintances, and everyone in your vicinity. Often, Suguru wondered if being a people-pleaser was natural or from a fear of not fitting in.

Suguru is observant. He notices the lingering gaze Satoru gives you when you walk away, hurrying to catch up with the rest of your friends. Satoru then turns back to the carton of chocolate milk you'd left him.

"Cute," Satoru says after a minute. It's more of an afterthought than anything. He pops the carton open. Suguru hears the fabric tear. He hums in agreement. The topic switches to something else, a hot celebrity maybe? Suguru can't remember. That day had been so insignificant to him. It hadn’t mattered to him for Suguru to remember anything further.

A few days later, Suguru noticed Satoru was spending a lot more time with you.

It was hard not to notice, actually. His friend attached himself to you like he'd die if he couldn’t. Satoru went everywhere with you now. Suguru caught him walking you from school, offering you rides in his new car, following you to the lunch hall. And if he couldn’t go to where you were, he’d drag you back to him. Watching you and Satoru was a bit like watching two magnets. North pole and South pole. So different, yet constantly finding the other.

“Tryna’ run away from me, now?” Satoru asks, a teasing lilt in his voice as he watches you fiddle with your bag.

You laugh, continuing to fish out your lunch box. “Just grabbing lunch.”

“Eat with us,” Satoru insists, “we found a great spot up at the rooftop.”

You meet Suguru’s gaze just then. He’d been silently lounging on a nearby desk, observing the two of you. He gives a smile. You return it. Polite. He wonders if your mother taught you to smile like that.

“I thought students weren’t allowed up there?” You ask Satoru.

The boy rolls his eyes. “So, who cares? It’ll be fun.”

You pause, right then. The tiniest of hesitation. Suguru wonders if you’re noticing just how different you and Satoru were. You, the people pleaser, meek, always more than willing to bend towards authority. Satoru was rougher, more resilient, uncaring of signs and rules. The gap between the two of you is astronomical. Could you feel it as well?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s gone in a moment. You rise, giving Satoru another laugh. To Suguru, it sounds pretty.

“Well, have fun for me. Besides, I can’t ditch my friends. They’re waiting for me.”

With that, you give both him and Satoru a tiny wave, before disappearing out of the classroom. Suguru waves back. Satoru doesn’t. Instead, he keeps his eyes on your back until he can’t see you anymore.

“Got ditched again, hm?” Suguru teases. Satoru only groans, tossing his head back as he leans dangerously on the chair.

“Always leavin’ me for ‘em, too,” he complains, “so fuckin’ annoyin’.”

Suguru can only smile, getting up to follow his friend out the door. He can barely count how many times he’d seen this before, each with a different person. It starts the same. Satoru will cling onto you for a couple more days, and then ask you out. When you say yes, he’d date you for a few weeks before eventually getting bored and dumping you.

It’s a cruel cycle, something that’s just an inevitability with Gojo Satoru. The boy can’t stay in one place, he’s constantly moving around, never one to stop. For Satoru, Suguru was the most permanent thing in his life. Which made sense, they were pretty similar in terms of ideals.

A cruel cycle, and Suguru feels a tiny bit of sympathy for you. You were sweet, unlike the type Satoru typically went for. Honey. Natural. Truthfully, Suguru was a little disappointed as well. The type of disappointment he’d feel when someone took the last crab stick before he could. A fleeting feeling, one that ultimately wouldn’t matter.

◉

From the day they first met, Suguru knew one thing: Gojo Satoru has never been told no before.

It made sense. He was the only child to one of the most powerful families in the country. Spoiled from day one, some could say. Satoru grew up knowing nothing but wealth and prosperity. They met when they were both still in elementary school, still with high-pitched voices and large eyes. Suguru’s family was fairly affluent as well. Now that Suguru thinks back, perhaps their meeting had been orchestrated by meddling parents in order to form more connected. It didn’t matter, either way. It had benefitted all three parties, after all.

Yes, Suguru knew from the moment Satoru pointed at him and declared him his ‘best friend’, that Satoru had never been told no before.

Satoru was the Sun. The universe revolved around him, catered to him. Suguru supposed he wasn't much better considering he too spoiled his best friend in that sense. They were different. They'd been born different, coming from families who cherish them with wealth and power. Suguru supposes it was natural for them to be so intertwined. Like calls for like.

Suguru isn’t aware of the exact details, but he knows you rejected Satoru.

The boy doesn’t have to tell him. His friend is uncharacteristically quiet during that weekend. He has no interest in the arcade, or the next basketball tournament his team is going to compete in. Satoru just sits on top of Suguru’s bed, casually sucking on a carton of chocolate milk. Suguru glanced down at the abandoned PlayStation remote. He’d lost yet another game against his dark-haired friend with no complaints. Satoru didn’t even play

You’d really done a number on him, Suguru thinks to himself. Suguru would assume it’s heartbreak, but he knows his friend better than that. Something burns in his chest, but he’s pushing it away before he can figure out why. Nipping it in the bud. It was a cruel thought. A bad one. He should ignore it.

Well, it’s done. It doesn’t matter anyway. Satoru would eventually get over it. He’s not known to sulk.

He’s not there to see what Satoru tells them, but he’s there to see the effects.

It starts out small. Or perhaps just not noticeable enough. Gojo Satoru has always attracted attention, whether it was satisfactory or not. Lackeys, Satoru often calls them because they're too far beneath him to even be called equals.

Suguru notices their sudden interest in you before even you can. A harsh word here and there. Giggling at the word 'easy'. You peacefully trek on, not noticing the abuse until it turns physical. That starts at the end of Monday.

By Tuesday, they're already shoving you down each chance they get. You get surprised when it happens the first time, then the second, then the third. You have soft skin, plushy, Suguru could tell. He wondered if it was getting marked now. He wonders if you go home, peeling of your uniform, staring at the bruises of hands on your skin because you’re so fragile.

(They never go too far, not enough to completely injure. Suguru knows this because one time, one of the idiots had pushed you too hard. You’d stumbled, nearly hitting the back of your head with a metal locker. Satoru had seen. Suguru doesn’t know what Satoru did, but that particular one was gone the next time and the rest got the memo to scare, not injure.)

Satoru never takes part in this, but he keeps an eye on you sometimes. Tuesday evening comes and they both silently watch you through a window. You move through an empty hall, before they arrive again, slapping your binders out of your hands, chortling with each other. They're too far away to hear, but Suguru could bet it would sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

Out of the corner of his eye, Suguru watches his best friend. Satoru looks impassive, face blank as he stares down at your figure. Akin to a child watching ants burning through a magnifying glass, instilled with that innate desire to see them explode into ash.

When the lackeys leave, you bend down on the floor, collecting your stuff. Your hair covers your eyes, so he can't see your expression, but he can see your shoulders tremble. Were you-

A corral of people run to you. They lean down, picking up the stuff you had missed. You look up, your eyes are shiny but you're laughing when they say something. You wipe at your eyes, standing up as they lead you out of the hallway. Suguru had seen them hanging out with you before. They all seemed like they supported each other, supported you.

Suguru feels his frown deepen, conflicted. He doesn’t like it.

"It's not nice to pick on the weak, Satoru," he quietly says.

Satoru's eyes trail your figure out the door. He gives a small hum.

By Wednesday, your friends disappear from your side.

The abuse is getting worse, noticeable to the point where the rest of the student body is heavily avoiding you. Teachers won't raise a finger at what's happening. As much as they like to preach about their 'zero tolerance for bullying', Suguru knows they'll willingly turn a blind eye when matters involve Gojo Satoru. No teacher wants to deal with the wrath the Gojo family is more than willing to unlease for the sake of their heir.

Yet, you aren't getting it. You don't break, don't bend. He can feel the humiliation roll off of you in waves, yet you don't react. Which was strange because he knew your archetype. A people-pleaser, constantly bending over backward for other's sake. You want nothing more than to become part of the crowd again, completely invisible. You’re community-oriented. You thrive off of companionship. This ostracization must be killing you. Suguru doesn't get it until he spots your face, just once, narrowed eyes, anger.

Pride. He'd forgotten other people had that too. Though, Suguru admires it, a part of him knows it shouldn’t last.

Suguru thinks he does it because he pities you. You're a little naive. Suguru has your thought process figured out. You think if you take the torment long enough, Satoru would eventually just forget about you all together. Once he's done with you, you'd focus on picking up the pieces that used to be your life. It's not a bad plan, if you weren't dealing with Gojo Satoru.

The boy is a hurricane. Fast, unrelenting, unforgiving. Satoru won't stop. He won't stop until you're ruined and broken. Turned into a mere asteroid of what you once were.

So, Suguru decides to give you a push in the right direction.

The students have already created a wide circle for you by the time he steps in, bending down, picking up the stuff you had dropped. You're silent until he hands you his pieces. He doesn't bother responding to your timid thanks.

"Give in," he tells you, watching the way your eyes widen as you look up at him.

You're weak. Physically, emotionally. He could easily pick you up with one hand, crush your body with his fist. Satoru could eviscerate your body from existence. You don't stand a chance with him. With either of them.

His advice to you is good. Reasonable. And yet, he sees the face you make, the way you slowly get up. You won’t listen. That same burning feeling in his chest starts. It's gotten more painful.

You don't listen to him until you lose nearly everything. Just as he warned you. Friday comes. You become Satoru's. And it's a little too late for everything.

◉

Suguru doesn't think you ever learn that Satoru loves messing with you.

Or, perhaps you do, but you can't help it. You're too honest, too open. He often wonders if that's how you were raised. To be honest, open, vulnerable. Your parents must have filled your thoughts with delusions, coddling you with words of cheap motivation. The world is your oyster. You just had to reach out and take it.

Maybe now you're finally realizing, sitting on Satoru's lap, that all men aren't created equal.

Clearly, you weren't happy about it. Yet, you aren't complaining, sitting there pliantly legs firmly crossed, hands curled into tiny fists, staring rigidly on the floor. The first few times Satoru had done this in public, you were always biting your lip, tears threatening to fall. Now, Suguru thinks you just dissociate, coming back when Satoru laughs at something, jostling you in his arms.

It's a bit like watching a helpless bird on the ground, twitching and spasming after it had just collided with a glass window. Pitiful, but there was nothing that could be done. It's the inevitability of it all that makes him pity you more than anything else, really.

Every so often, your eyes would catch his. It's a quick glance, as though you were wondering if he was watching. He can barely catch it, but Suguru is observant. Much like you. It's meaningless, and your gaze returns to the floor. Your fists tighten.

Granting you mercy, Suguru stops looking at you during those times.

He's not sure how Satoru sees you. Perhaps, you're akin to a dog for him. Though, that might not be very good for you. Satoru hadn't been very good with animals when he was younger. Satoru had always been rough with any pets he came into contact with, pushing and tugging. Suguru doubted that had changed.

Satoru's is your official title. It isn't a relationship. It's an ownership. Unequal from the start. The one who holds the leash in the end, will always be Satoru.

It took a while for you to fully learn that.

Suguru didn't mean to catch the two of you. Looking back, it was probably because Satoru couldn't care less if someone was watching. Maybe Satoru was being obvious on purpose. It was a little while after school had officially ended. Suguru knew your usual routine would place you right at the library, scrolling through books. Satoru would most likely be there too, pestering you about this and that. It's the scene Suguru prepares himself to walk into.

Instead, you're wedged in between the white-haired boy and the wall, there's no space for you to do anything but sink. You're already crying (when was the last time you smiled?), trying to pull away but Satoru isn't letting you. He's gripping you by the chin, forcing eye contact. His sunglasses are off, tucked on his collar.

Suguru's close enough to hear. You're begging. Apology after apology. It's barely a whisper, but they're spilling out of you like a prayer. He can't discern the context, but he knows enough.

You made Satoru angry.

He's still smiling, but it isn't sincere. Almost bordering on mania as he tightens his grip on you, forcing you further into the wall. Suguru doesn't think Satoru has ever hit you before, but now he's wondering if quick violence was preferable to this.

"Don't be like that," Satoru chides as another squeak leaves your lips, "Where was that smile you were givin' him, hm? C'mon, pretty girl. You were wearin' it just a second ago."

"It-it wasn't like that, I swear," you continue to plead, still not realizing that it's too late, "he was giving me his notes. Please-please Satoru-"

"Wrong answer," he cuts you off, you flinch at his harshness but Suguru decides Satoru's being nice to you. He's been known to do worse, "we've been over this before, haven't we? Or did your stupid brain forget?"

You're choking down another hiccup. It takes a minute for you to calm down enough to speak clearly. Ever impatient, Satoru's hand digs into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Satoru," you say, "it won't happen again."

He tilts his head, waiting. You wilt under his gaze.

"I'm sorry...’Toru."

Satoru gives a satisfied hum, pulling back and Suguru can practically see your lungs sag with relief. His mania is gone, replaced by something much more lighthearted and carefree. Suguru'd seen it before, but it was certainly something watching Satoru go from one high to the next. Even to Suguru, it's terrifying to witness.

Suguru decides to make himself known right then. He comes out of the shadows, acting as though he'd just arrived. His friend lazily gives him a wave, curling an arm around your waist. You try to scrub away your tears with your forearms, unaware of how much Suguru had seen. Another mercy Suguru grants you. He doesn't acknowledge it.

The three of you sit in the library for half an hour until you're done pretending that you're studying. When Satoru walks you home, Suguru follows. He notes that you barely hesitate to give Satoru a chaste kiss on the lips, and he wonders how often his friend has demanded one from you for you to be so casual about it.

He thinks he gets it when he and Satoru are walking on the street without you. To Satoru, you aren't a dog. You aren't a pet, something that he keeps to see bark.

No, you are just Satoru's.

◉

Towards the end of the year, Suguru realizes that Satoru loves you.

He's nicer to you, now. Suguru doesn't think you've realized how softer Satoru's gotten, but the change is there. He spots less marks on you now. The biggest evidence he has is that stolen moment of you and Satoru. You'd accidentally fallen asleep during lunch break, dozing off on your desk. Satoru was right next to you, gently pushing your hair out of your face. Satoru loves you.

You've changed too. Adapted, he should say. You cry less, now. Each time he sees you, you look more and more put together. As though, you're done mourning. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.

Despite how much nicer Satoru is to you, he's still just as clingy. Suguru notices that even now, none of your former friends speak to you. No one at school does. It's an unspoken rule to not mess with Satoru's things.

Suguru can still remember the last guy who hadn't gotten the memo. A new student. Freshly transferred. Suguru had heard the conversation. The guy was hardly interested in you. It was nothing more than small talk. The pat on your shoulder had been thoughtless at least, friendly at most.

Satoru beat him until the boy was bloody and had a broken nose. A week later, he'd transferred again.

You're off limits. To everyone but Suguru.

The Earth is the only planet capable of sustaining life within this cold solar system. It's close enough to the sun to feel the warmth, yet far enough so it doesn't burn. It's strong, too. A powerful magnetic forcefield, capable of shutting down the sun's cosmic radiation. Thus, the Earth spins happily around the Sun, surrounded by a sea of dead planets.

So, sometimes when Satoru can't walk you home. Suguru does.

It was just the beginning of spring. The school year was starting to end. The school itself was starting to slow down. Teachers were getting less and less strict, less work was given out. It didn't matter. Colleges had already been picked. They were all close to the end.

You don't say much when the two of you are alone. Suguru understands. It's hard to say much of anything when you're crushed by the weight of Gojo Satoru. But Suguru could have sworn he'd seen a flicker of relief when he came to pick you up and not his friend. You're clearly happier when it's him. Suguru decides he likes how that feels. It's a quick feeling of superiority. Something that quickly disappears when your eyes flick down.

He knows where your house is, but he lets you take the lead anyway. Suguru figures it's the least he can do, give you that sense of control when nothing you do ever really does anymore.

You and him have forged a shaky companionship. He's not sure what he is to you entirely, but you seem reliant on him in some way. it’s his fault, he thinks. He wonders if it has to do with the contraception he'd given you. He can still remember the trembling hands as you took it from him, curling the packet into your grip. That day he went home and his fingers felt strangely itchy.

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

When he asks you a question, you answer. At least you aren't mute, though Suguru doesn't think he'd blame you if you ignored him. Your voice is stilted, with enough words to answer the question, but still not enough to fully sate him.

And then, you break.

Just a bit.

A tiny piece of you shatters, and you show yourself to him.

He'd been talking about something insignificant, college, his plans. Just ramblings. Somehow, Satoru comes into the conversation and he's talking about the area of his friend's college campus, how Satoru mentioned that he's looking for apartments for the two of you to stay in. And then, you're uncharacteristically scoffing.

"Right," you say, head faced down on the sidewalk as you kick a rock, "because I'm following him there."

Suguru can't help but place the sarcasm in your voice. The bitterness. He's heard it before, but it's a fascinating thing hearing it come from you. And then Suguru realizes that you accidentally gave something away.

You were leaving.

Somehow, it never crossed Suguru's mind that you were still rebelling, even now. And yet, he can't shake off the heat in your voice, your words.

You seem to realize this too, freezing.

He lets you falter for a few more moments before giving you a reprieve.

"Satoru's idealistic like that," he let out.

Your shoulders lower, and for the sake of both you and him, he doesn't press any further.

He doesn't let himself let it go, even when he drops you home, arriving to his own house. Always cold. The mansion's lights are always off. No one's ever home. And Satoru's out of town.

It's better this way, Suguru thinks as he lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. No distractions, he can think better, as he replays your words over and over again. You were leaving. You were leaving. You were leaving Satoru.

The night passes. When Satoru comes back to town, he's joyful as always, an arm slung around your shoulders. Suguru watches the way he coos at you, saying how much he missed you. You take his affections the way you always do, with a strained smile and wavering eyes.

You glance at Suguru. Suguru stares right back.

For a moment, Suguru thinks he understands why people are so enthralled with solar eclipses. The moon is seen as an underdog in most instances. It must be thrilling when a weak satellite can cover the sun's rays. Even for just a little bit.

Suguru doesn't tell Satoru. He pushes the burning in his chest, ignoring the itchiness in his fingers. Things are better this way, right? After all, the two of you come from completely different worlds. It's nonsensical to think otherwise.

Two weeks before graduation, you disappear without a trace.

And Satoru breaks.

It's a slow dissent. It comes in stages. The boy is angry at first, searching for you at school, when he can't find you there he loses his facade and demands where you are from your parents. They can't give him a clear answer because you're an adult now and you barely told them a thing before moving out. Suguru doesn’t think they knew what Satoru was to you. He doesn’t think they ever will.

The heat fades day by day, Week by week. Satoru starts to deflate the longer you aren't in his hold, his to mangle, and grab, and keep. He stops taking care of himself. His skin became paler, cracked lips, hollow cheeks. His eyes turn into this grayish blue that Suguru can't bring himself to look at for too long. He loses weight day by day.

Suguru had never seen him react this way before. Satoru was always shining. He was the sun. Now, the center of the solar system was dying. He can feel himself dying with it.

Satoru hadn't just loved you. Satoru had been obsessed with you. He breathed you in, inhaled your essence like oxygen. You'd been a part of him; a necessity. And then, you tore yourself away, leaving him bleeding on the concrete.

Guilt. Suguru feels it in his stomach, rising to his throat, threatening to stain his clothes. It's too late to say anything now, so he keeps it huddled deep inside of him. Suguru hopes it'll never come out. He helps the best he can, being there for his friend, his best friend.

It takes a month for Satoru to start eating properly again. A few months later he starts regaining his usual physique. The gray in his eyes stays for a bit longer than Suguru likes. Suguru supposes he should take what he can get.

A year passes like that. The evidence of what you left behind fades, like bruises disappearing on skin. Suguru and Satoru become college students. Then, they graduate.

When Satoru joins the business, Suguru, his right-hand man, his second, his best friend, is right next to him. They’ve always worked well together, but that doesn’t change as they shift into adulthood. Despite how different Suguru and Satoru were, Suguru liked to think that their personalities were stagnant; unchanging even to the times.

What Satoru feels about you remains stagnant as well.

Suguru doesn’t think about you often, these days. Barely a few times a year, when he feels nostalgic enough to get out his old high school yearbook. He’d page through, spot your smiling portrait face. He’d find himself staring at you far longer than he liked too.

At first, Suguru thought Satoru was the same. Much like how one thinks about a lost toy they cherished when they were younger. The resentment would fade with time. Satoru didn’t speak about you for years.

Suguru hadn’t expected the girls, however.

He doesn’t notice the first one. He sees her, but he doesn’t internalize it. She’s hurriedly putting on her clothes after a clearly exciting night, so Suguru respectfully averts his gaze. He’s more focused on his exasperation at how Satoru had missed yet another meeting with the board. They would be less than pleased if they discovered Satoru didn’t show up because he was hungover.

The second time it happens, Suguru has a passing thought of how familiar the girl looked, despite being sure he’d never seen her in his life.

The third time it happens, Suguru realizes all the recent girls Satoru’s been bringing strike an uncanny resemblance towards you.

It’s not anything too obvious, but all of them would look a bit like you. Most would have your skin tone, your hair. One had your eyes, not the color, rather the shape of it. Satoru had kept her around the longest.

Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. Part of him wonders if Satoru is even doing it on purpose.

Suguru loves Satoru like he would his own brother, but his recent hobby was starting to get on his nerves a bit.

“So much work,” the man complains, “Why can’t we just send all this off to Ijichi?”

“He has his own work to complete,” Suguru reprimands, “the sooner you stop complaining, the sooner we can finish.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but moves to another page of meaningless paperwork; Something that would be scanned into their system and then tucked away into a random file cabinet. They currently sat in Satoru’s grand kitchen, lounging on the barstools after Suguru had pounded Satoru’s door in. Satoru had let him in with an irritated look, complaining that it was the weekend and he had ‘stuff’ to do.

“He’s my assistant,” Satoru retorts, “my work is his work.”

“The reason why we’re in this mess in the first place is because you kept pawning off your job to the poor man in the first place. You’ve given him wrinkles from just the stress of being in your vicinity.”

“That’s insulting,” Satoru counters, “my presence is nothing but calming.”

“You do the exact opposite, actually. A black hole that sucks the soul out of everyone who hangs around you.”

“You hang around me all the time and you don’t have wrinkles.”

Suguru smiles. “It’s because I don’t respect you enough to listen to anything you’re saying.”

Satoru’s about to respond, when another voice interrupts him. Alluring, feminine.

“Satoru,” she coos, “When are you getting back here?”

From his seat, Suguru has a clear view of Satoru’s bedroom. Only her head is peeked out, and Suguru notes her bare shoulders. Your eyes, and your lips this time. She’s tilting her head, mouth curved in a coy smile.

Of course. Suguru can only roll his eyes. There’s that same burning feeling in his chest. During the years, it hasn’t really gotten any better.

“Coming, coming,” Satoru calls back, “just a minute, babe.”

“Stuff to do, hm?” Suguru drawls with amusement. Satoru flips him off.

"Worry 'bout yourself," Satoru says, "when's the last time you got any, huh? Honestly, when's the last time you've taken a break? A vacation?"

"I can't," Suguru replies, "I'm always stuck babysitting you."

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour, ‘Toru." The woman interrupts. "Can’t you just do it later?”

Suguru hadn’t even noticed it. He brushed it off, barely hearing their conversation as he shuffled around the papers.

Satoru had.

He hums. Straightening his back.

“Yeah, I’ve changed my mind. You should head on home.”

At first, he thought Satoru was talking to him. Then, he hears the woman’s annoyed huff.

“Hold on, you’re kicking me out?” She asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Satoru says, not sounding very apologetic, “I got a lotta’ stuff to do and you’re not gonna wanna stick around.”

His tone is light, but Suguru can’t help but place a sense of annoyance in them. The anger. His posture is stiff, almost like he’s primed for a fight.

‘Toru. She called him ‘Toru.

You used to call him ‘Toru.

“Seriously, I-”

“I hate repeating myself: Get the fuck out.”

There’s silence, and then Suguru can hear her mutter to herself as she shuffles inside the room. She comes out minutes later, not quite dressed, but presentable. She shoots Satoru a glare, to which he only waves off. The door shuts with a noticable thud.

“Back to work,” Satoru says, “do you feel hot? The AC has been acting up, lately.”

He carries on like that, back to normal, as though he wasn’t about to snap just a few minutes ago. Suguru follows suit, not aknowledging the outburst, much like he doesn’t aknowledge most things regarding you.

Later, Suguru laughs about the hypocrisy of it all. Satoru brings home physical reminders of you, but he refuses the remnants of you. The most intimate parts, he’d kept hidden away from his life, yet he still wishes to touch, to feel. He wonders how you’d feel if you knew that Gojo Satoru is wrapped around your finger, even now.

◉

Satoru had done something yet again. It's always something with Gojo Satoru. Suguru should have left him to deal with the legal team himself, but here he was, trailing beside the firm’s directors as the man droned on and on how well Mr.Gojo would be well taken care of how here our clients are family. He forces himself to push away that feeling in his chest, scorching his throat. He was getting sick of the constant blabbering. He’d glanced away for just a second.

And then he saw you.

You, not some remnant, not some picture, not someone similar. You. He knew it was you. A little older, a little taller. You’d switched the high school uniform for a blouse and a pencil skirt. Suguru stares. He’s tempted to say your name, seek you out, as though you’re old friends-

He reels himself back in.

You disappear through a frosted glass door, completely unaware of his gawking. You hadn’t seen him. Good. The firm’s director didn’t notice his pause, carrying on as though nothing happened. Suguru smiles and laughs at the horrible ice breakers, but he also steals a glance at the name of the door you went through.

Later, Suguru looks up Higuruma Hiromi. A well-established lawyer. Worked at the firm for nearly a decade.

You are his sole paralegal.

Law. He had never considered it for you. Now, he thinks it’s a little fitting. He can’t help it. He looks you up. You have no social media, most likely from a remnant fear, but he finds where you went to college, what your area of study was, where else you’d worked, your life. Questions he’d had for nearly a decade he finally has an answer.

Honestly, Suguru was a little mad it was all so easy.

He can’t see the entire scope of your life, but he knows you were happy after high school, away from Satoru. You seemed happy when he caught that glimpse of you. There was a slight smile on your face, you never did that with Satoru around.

Satoru’s a little pathetic, a thought he has to concede to. He’s still hung over you, while you clearly hadn’t thought of him in years.

Suguru stares at your picture a little more.

The burning feeling comes back again. Hotter, melting.

Oh.

Suguru is disgusted by you.

You, that bitch loitering in Satoru’s bedroom, that greedy firm director. Disgust, that sick feeling crawling down his stomach, seeping into his bones. He’s disgusted by the weak.

He’s even more disgusted when they think they can defeat the strong. Decieve them.

You always thought you were better than Satoru, better than Suguru, even from the beginning. Even when you rejected him. Even when Satoru’s goons were torturing you, you still thought you could get out of it somehow. Even when Satoru had his hand on your shoulder, claws sinking into your flesh, you were still looking for a way out. It was like watching a rat trapped in a cage, pathetically sniffing around for an exit.

The weak could never escape the whims of the strong. It was a truth of the world, something he’d always known and yet it’d take a decade for him to put the words together. The weak could never make a fool of the strong.

You are weak. A mere satellite floating along, before getting trapped in the Earth’s gravitational force. Suguru could crush you with one fist. Satoru could evisirate you to atoms.

Does the Earth ever wonder if it can turn the Sun?

“I’ve put together a legal team that will represent you.”

Suguru places the neat stack of documents onto Satoru’s desk. The white-haired man barely gives them a glance. Suguru knows Satoru won’t ever look at them, even when your name is hidden somewhere within the sheets, along with Higuruma’s. Suguru wonders how long it’d take for Satoru to figure it out. It’s a shame he won’t be there to see it unfold in real-time, but perhaps, once Satoru puts the pieces together, he’ll thank him.

Here, in the present, Satoru types away at his computer, barely paying attention to Suguru’s words.

“Oh, great,” Satoru says off handedly, “thanks, man.”

Suguru sighs.

“Uh, I love you?” Satoru tries again.

“Never repeat those words to me ever again,” Suguru responds, “I wish you’d be a bit more interested in this, considering it’s your fault the company is in this mess in the first place.”

Satoru gives a hushed hum of agreement. Suguru smiles.

“In other news: I won’t be here next week.”

That catches his best friend’s attention. Satoru gapes at him.

“You’re quitting?”

“No, idiot. I’m taking your advice. I’m taking a few weeks off. I already put it in the calendar that you never check so why did I even bother.”

“A vacation? You never take vacations, even when I beg you to,” Satoru squints at him, “What’s the occasion?”

Eventually, Satoru will figure it out. For now, Suguru wants to enjoy this.

“I worked hard this year. I should reward myself, shouldn’t I?” He reasons, “oh, and I have a surprise for you showing up in a week or so. Let me know what you think of it.”

“A gift? For me?” Satoru beams. “You really do love me.”

“Don’t push it.”

If Satoru was the Sun, then Suguru supposed he would be the Earth. Close enough to receive the star's radiance, but with a strong enough magnetitic field to shield from solar winds.

If Suguru was the Earth, then Suguru supposed you would be the Moon. A tiny cratered satellite he tugs along with him, forever in sight of the burning sun.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark content #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #non con touching #gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #bullying #harrassment #non con kissing #geto suguru

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

In From The Rain

Oscar Piastri x plant nerd!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s looking for an easy to care for houseplant. You have just the solution. Check out the moodboard here!

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: none

The greenhouse is quiet in the early morning. It’s one of your favorite things. Before the customers come in, looking for flowers for their porch or vegetable plants for their gardens, it’s just you and the plants and the sun streaming in through the glass. So when somebody interrupts your morning solitude, you’re not exactly happy about it.

Sure, you’re technically open, but nobody ever gets here this early. You’re watering plants in your rain boots, a mug of coffee in your hand, when the front door swings open. You turn to look, the noise startling you.

The man who walks in looks sheepish when his eyes meet yours. He ducks under a hanging basket, nearly trips over your garden hose. His cheeks flush red. You’d be more irritated with his presence if he wasn’t being so cute about it.

“Sorry, the- the sign said open,” he says, backing towards the door.

“You’re fine. We are open,” you affirm, flicking off the sprayer before you drown the petunias in front of you. “I was just surprised to see someone in here so early.”

He laughs. It’s a nice sound. Almost as nice a sound as his voice, with an Australian accent. He stops backing away. You should probably point out that he’s standing in a puddle, but you’re not sure if that’s really your place.

“Can I help you find something?” You ask.

He takes a step forward. A thick band of sunlight shines down on the top of his head, like a halo. He brushes his floppy hair from his face.

“No, that’s okay. You’re busy, I’ll just have a look around,” he says.

You nod. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

You turn back to the flower trays in front of you. They’ll need pruning, soon. And some of the hanging baskets are getting a bit unruly- it’ll likely be time to put them on sale in the next few days, to open up space for new plants. You can hear the man walking around behind you, peering at the plants. His footsteps are hesitant, and when you look, he has his hands held behind his back. He leans close to read the signs, brows tightly wound.

He obviously has no idea what he’s looking for.

You put the hose away and set your nearly empty coffee down at your workstation in the back of the greenhouse. Then you make your way back up to the front, where he’s standing near the succulents.

“Sure you don’t want help?” You ask.

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Is it that obvious that I’ve got no idea what I’m doing?”

“A bit,” you say, and he laughs again. “That’s okay, though. It’s what I’m here for. What are you looking for?”

He stands up straight, eyes dancing over the greenhouse. “So. I’ve been told my apartment is boring. A friend suggested a plant to liven up the space.”

You nod. A tale as old as time. He’ll either kill the plant within a week or fill his whole place with them.

“But I’m gone a lot for work,” he says. “Like, a lot. So I need something that won’t wilt the second I’m gone, you know?”

You nod. “Does your apartment get good light?”

He laughs. “I don’t know what good light means.”

“Which direction do your windows face?”

“South,” he says, confidently. “Google said that was good. Right?”

You fight a laugh. He’s a bit adorable. Trying very hard to get it right. Like this is a test with right and wrong answers.

“Yeah, south facing is great.” You gesture towards the succulents. “You could get a succulent. They can go weeks without watering, but they need lots of light.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “I thought these were cactuses. Or cacti?”

“Close,” you tell him, and he smiles again. “Cacti are the ones with the spikes.”

He nods in understanding. He crouches down, then, eye levels with the little plants. Your heart is melting. You scuff one of your rain boots against the ground. You could stand here and watch the way his long eyelashes flutter as he blinks all day, but that would be creepy and you have a job you’re supposed to be doing.

“How do I know which one to get?” He says, quietly. “Like… there are so many different kinds.”

Your face breaks out into a huge grin. He’s so endearing. “I think you’ll know when you see it.”

He appears at the front cash register ten minutes later, a succulent in hand. It’s a little one, the perfect starter plant. He’s eyeing the decorative pots next to you, brows furrowed again.

“Those are too big for that plant,” you tell him, and he breathes out a sigh. “There are smaller ones on the other side of the display.”

He moves to look. You hear him shuffling, hear him pick up pots and then set them down. Then he appears again, a little pot with black and white checkerboard print on it in his other hand.

“Perfect,” you say softly. “Have you got potting soil?”

He clears his throat. “Um. No, but I’ve got a courtyard at my apartment with a garden… but I’m sensing from the look on your face that that won’t do.”

You roll your eyes playfully. Then you reach under the counter and grab one of the small sample bags of potting soil you keep on hand.

“Here. On the house.” You say. “So you can put that plant in the pot.”

“Wow. Thanks,” he says. He sets the other items down on the counter. “Thanks for all your help, actually.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

You bag the items carefully, making sure the plant won’t be squished. You put a care instruction sheet in the bag, too. Then you slide it to him with a smile.

“There’s a care sheet in there that should help. Enjoy your new plant,” you say. “I hope it works out.”

“Me too,” he says.

He leaves, then, and you’re left with your quiet greenhouse once again. It’s odd. Usually you breathe a sigh of relief after a customer leaves. But this time, you almost want him to come back.

…..

Two weeks later, you’re back at your workstation re-potting a sad looking philodendron. You look up from it when you hear the bell over the front door ring. The watering is already done, the hose put away, so there’s nothing for the man to trip over this time. But it is the same guy, and he ducks under the hanging basket the same way. You should maybe move it, but he seems to be the only one who’s had an issue with it. You stand up, wiping the dirt from your hands on your apron.

“You didn’t kill that succulent already, did you?” You call out.

His eyes dart to meet yours, and he laughs. “No! Promise.”

“Good. That would be a new record,” you laugh.

You let him wander the store on his own for a few minutes as you get the philodendron correctly in the new pot. Then you give it some water and take it with you to set it back out on the shelf. He’s still the only other person in the store, and he’s currently eyeing the flats of flowering plants.

“It’s actually going really well,” he says as you walk by. “He has a new leaf.”

That’s when you know the guy is hooked. He has a new leaf. The plant is no longer just a plant to him. Absent-mindedly, you wonder if he’s the type to name his plants. You set the one in your hands down on the table in front of you, your back to him so he doesn’t see your wide grin. When you turn around, you tone it down.

“That’s great,” you say encouragingly. “So I’m guessing you want another one?”

He nods, rubbing his finger over the leaf of a fiddle leaf fig. “Yeah, but I’m thinking something different this time. Something bigger.”

“You don’t want that one,” you say, and he backs away from the fig tree slightly. “Fiddle leafs are notoriously dramatic. If you left her for a week she’d drop all her leaves.”

He sighs and stands up. “What would you suggest?”

You wave him over to another area of the store. He follows eagerly, footsteps splashing in the leftover puddles from the morning watering. You lead him to a section of spiky, tall plants.

“Snake plant,” you say, pointing at them.

He’s standing next to you, and your shoulders just barely brush. A shiver runs down your spine. You try to hide it.

“Snake plant,” he repeats. “The name makes sense.”

“People also call them mother in law’s tongue,” you add. You fight the urge to check his ring finger. “But if you’ve got a mother in law I’d suggest avoiding that name.”

He laughs, and his shoulder bumps into your again. “I don’t. But snake plant sounds cooler.”

You nod in agreement. “They do well with very little water. And, they can do okay in pretty low light, too. So if you’ve got a darker area that needs a plant, it would be a good fit.”

He’s up at the register ten minutes later, plant and a pot in hand. This one is plain terracotta. You like that he’s the type of person to buy the pots, too. Some people just leave them in the boring plastic, and it makes you sad to think about. All plants deserve a nice home. You say that to him as you ring him up, and he laughs. He’s also grabbed a small bag of potting soil this time.

Your repeat the process, same as last time, and hand him the bag. He takes it, and then he hesitates.

“Thanks again,” he says, juggling the bag until it’s held in one arm. He sticks his hand out to you. “I’m Oscar, by the way.”

You tell him your name, though you’re sure he could read it off your nametag, too. When you shake his hand, you swear the warmth of it runs all the way up your arm. He thanks you again, and then he disappears out the door once again. That ache is back in your chest. You find yourself hoping he’ll be back soon.

…..

He does come back. Multiple times. He buys more succulents on one trip, asking you to help him choose between them, and then he ends up buying all three instead. Another morning he comes in and you show him a ZZ plant you’ve just gotten in that you think will be perfect for him- you don’t tell him you’ve been saving it for him at your work station. It’s just… you know it’ll look great next to the snake plant he bought.

Each time he comes to the store, he hangs around a little longer. You chat about the weather, about the plants in the store, about his plants at home. You tell him funny stories about other customers and complain to him about the rude ones. In return, he tells you about his coworkers, specifically one named Lando who he seems to get into a lot of mischief with. He hasn’t said what he does for work. You field weird about asking, so you don’t.

The 4th time he stops by, you suggest a pothos. He eyed the leaves and vines skeptically.

“The other ones looked tough, you know? Like they’d survive even if I fucked up.” He tugs at one of the vines. “Are you sure about this one?”

You nod encouragingly. “You can handle it. I promise. Plus, the cool thing about these is you can cut parts of the vines, like this,” you say, holding up one you’d taken from the workstation. “And then you stick it in water for a bit, it grows roots, and you’ve got a whole new plant.”

He raises his eyebrows. “That’s cool.”

“I know,” you laugh.

He joins you up at the front to buy the plant. You go through the same routine. This time, he’s picked out a pretty blue ceramic pot for it. It compliments the leaves well. Then he leans on the counter and the two of you start chatting. You’d had a shipment that came in last week with a bunch of dead plants, so you regale him with the story of trying to deal with the company’s customer service. In turn, he tells you a story about his family back home- one of his sisters had a dance recital, his mother tried to videotape it for him, he received a video of his mother’s face as she watched the recital. You don’t realize how long the two of you have been talking until Jane, the next person on the schedule, walks in.

You stand up straight, face growing hot suddenly. “Hi, Jane!”

“Hi, hun,” she says, walking past the two of you. “Sorry I’m late. Bet you’re dying for your lunch break.”

She’s late? You and Oscar must’ve been talking for… forever. It had felt like only minutes. He smiles sheepishly and pushes away from the counter.

“Well, I should be going,” he says, taking the bag in his arms. “Thanks again!”

You watch him walk out the front door, unsure why it feels like you’ve been caught. It reminds you of the feeling you’d gotten years ago, when your teacher found you and the boy you had a crush on in the hallway alone. You hadn’t been doing anything wrong, but it still makes you feel strange.

“Friend of yours?” Jane asks when you walk past her to take your break.

You blink, shrugging. “I think he might be.”

…..

Oscar always comes in on Tuesdays. You avoid taking Tuesdays off and won’t admit to yourself that he’s the reason why. But when you wake up with a raging fever and a pounding head, you know you have to call in. Jane, always a sweetheart, takes your shift. When you see her two days later, it’s after you’ve already done the opening shift.

“Did you see your plant?” She asks as she breezes through the greenhouse.

You shut off the hose you’d been using to water a particularly thirsty chrysanthemum. “What plant?”

“The one your friend brought,” she says, and you only feel more confused. “He dropped it off Tuesday, said he was looking for you. It’s on the desk.”

You walk over to the workstation. Sure enough, in a tiny plastic pot- likely one from one of the succulents he’d bought-there’s a small pothos vine growing. You pick up the little plant, knocking over the piece of paper propped up on it in the process. You reach for it, finding a note written in rushed, messy scrawl.

I know you’ve probably got tons, but it felt right that you would have my very first propagation. Learned that word from the internet. Feel better soon! -Oscar

You turn to look at Jane. She’s at the register, not paying you any attention. You cradle the tiny plant close to your chest and do the same with the note. Then you tuck the paper away for safekeeping.

The plant, however, you carry with you all day. You place it in a sunbeam at the front register. When it catches your eye every so often, you feel a warmth in your chest.

…..

The next time Oscar comes in, he eyes the little plant at the register. You’ve stuck a little stake in it and tied a bow on top. He smiles softly and turns back to the display of pots. He chooses a tiny one with checkerboard print, the same as his very first purchase. You ring him up for all his items, but when you go to put that one in the bag, he grabs it and shakes his head. He slides it towards your tiny vine.

“For your plant,” he says, smiling softly.

You break into a face splitting grin. “You’re too sweet.”

His fingers brush against yours when you take it from him. You swear you feel sparks. You wonder if the red cheeks he sports as he leaves the store means he felt it, too.

…..

Another man comes into the shop early in the morning. It’s a Wednesday this time. You know it won’t be Oscar because of that, but you still look up eagerly. The guy nods, waving politely. You smile and go back to your watering. He walks the aisles, looking at the plants and never picking them up.

“Excuse me?” He says, after you’ve put the hose away. You turn, trying to hide your surprise at his American accent. “Um. Could you tell me where the succulents are?”

You grin and nod, walking over towards the area. You point them out.

“These right here,” you say. “Anything I can help you with?”

He stares at the tiny plants. “I have no idea what I’m doing. My friend, he’s gotten really into plants, and he talks about this shop all the time. Figured I’d see what the hype was all about.”

You tilt your head. He’s probably not, but it almost sounds like he’s talking about Oscar. You try and shake the idea from your head. Oscar is just a customer, he’s not going around and telling his friends about the greenhouse he goes to. He’s definitely not telling them about you.

“Succulents are a good place to start,” you say.

He sighs. “I don’t have much of a green thumb. I don’t think I’ll be very good at this.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” You say with a shrug. “You might surprise yourself.”

He ends up picking out a little succulent. He doesn’t go for a decorative pot. He seems wholly unconfident in his ability to keep it alive for more than a few days. Still, he smiles as he’s leaving. He pauses in the doorway.

“You know, I thought Oscar was exaggerating when he told me about you,” he says. “But I get it now.”

He’s out the door before you can even form a syllable, let alone a word or a sentence. You think about chasing after him and asking what the hell that even means, but you stay rooted there. Oscar talks about you. To his friends. You swear your heartbeat doesn’t slow all morning, and the heat in your cheeks stays there all day.

…..

Oscar comes rushing into the shop the next Tuesday. He has a brown paper bag in his arms, and his eyes are wide. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. You stand up, setting the garden hose down. He nearly slips on a puddle as he rushes over to you, and you reach out to steady him.

“I just got home last night,” he rushes, “and something’s wrong with- with Greg.”

“Greg?” You ask, leaning to peer into the bag.

“My succulent,” he says. His cheeks have gone red. “I name my plants. Is that weird?”

You laugh. “No, it’s not.”

You don’t tell him you’ve named your tiny pothos vine after him. You take the bag from his arms and walk to the back of the store, towards the work station. You reach in and pull out the succulent. It’s a little withered, a bit droopy. It’s also doubled in size since he bought it.

“I’ve been watering him when the soil gets dry,” he says, “and he’s still getting sunlight. I’ve tried everything- I left music playing for them when I left, so-“

Your eyes flicker up to him. He plays music for his plants. He’s the cutest man you’ve ever met. You want to take his face in your hands and kiss his forehead. Or his lips. He has these cute little freckles and moles- you’d like to draw constellations between them. Your face feels hot again. You direct your attention back to the plant as he rambles on. You frown, tugging slightly to see the roots.

“Osc, babe,” you interrupt, and he stops and stares at you. “He’s just a little root bound.”

You don’t dwell on the fact that you’ve just called him babe. It’s too late now.

“What’s that mean?” He asks, the panicky tone still in his voice.

“It means,” you start, nudging his side softly with your elbow, “that you’ve taken such good care of him that he’s outgrown this pot. He needs more soil. More room to spread out.”

His shoulders drop. The panic melts off his face. “Oh.”

You laugh. “God, I can’t believe when you came in here the first time you had no idea what a succulent even was. And now here you are, all panicked over a little wilting. You’ve become a true plant nerd, haven’t you?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“It’s cute,” you tell him, just to watch the blush creep up on his cheeks again. “Come on, let’s get him a new pot and some fresh soil.”

You lead him up to the front. He starts to pick through the display, holding the succulent up to the different options until he finds the right one. It’s a light orange.

You nod in approval. “Now you’ve got an empty pot,” you say, pointing at the original pot for the succulent. “Which means if you want, you have an excuse to buy another plant.”

“You’re so smart,” he says, eyes wide.

He rushes over to the display of succulents. While he’s picking one out, you carefully re-pot the plant into its new home. He takes his time, like always, indecisive to the very end. When he makes it up to the counter, he grins widely at the sight of the plant in its new pot.

“Thanks,” he says, softly. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

…..

When Oscar comes into the shop on a particularly rainy Tuesday, you’re trying hastily to hide your tears. He doesn’t come in every week, but it’s just your luck that he’s here today of all days. You wave and turn your back to him, sticking to the workstation. You hear the soft fall of his tennis shoes, though, even over the sound of the rain against the greenhouse roof, and you know he’s making his way towards you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, voice low.

You turn and find him with his hands in his jeans pockets. You wipe at your cheeks hastily, hoping he can’t tell how upset you are, but knowing you look a wreck. Your hair is soaked in rainwater, and your eyes likely red rimmed and puffy. It’s confirmed when his soft smile drops into a frown.

“I’ve had a shit morning,” you tell him with a sigh.

He pulls one hand from his pocket. “You, uh. You have dirt on your cheek.”

You groan and try to brush it away. Oscar chews on his lower lip. Then he reaches out, his fingertips sweeping against the skin of your face. His hand is warm, despite the chill in the air. Tiny sparks seem to spread across your skin, following the trail of his touch. Your face grows hot.

“There,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

He nods. “What’s going on? If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but…”

You sigh and turn away slightly, back to the plant in the pot in front of you. His gaze is so warm that you can’t stand to look at him, afraid you might start crying all over again.

“Just. Woke up late, so I was in a rush. And then I locked my car key in the car because I forgot something in the flat, and my mum has the spare key and she’s not even awake yet, so I had to walk here in the rain. And I couldn’t find my umbrella.” You brush a wet piece of hair away from your forehead. “And I slept like shit, and haven’t had any caffeine because I was late. So, yeah.”

“Shit morning,” Oscar agrees.

You nod. You finally turn to look at him again. There’s a soft look on his face, one you can’t quite place. He reaches out, places his hand flat on the counter next to yours. If you shifted your thumb just slightly, you could touch his. You want to, but you don’t.

“Sorry, I- Can I help you find anything?” You ask, blinking at him.

“You don’t need to be sorry, I asked,” he says. He rocks back on his heels and pulls his hand back. “I actually just remembered, I’m- I have to- I’ll be right back.”

He turns around and walks quickly to the front of the store. The bell dings as he walks out through the front door. You stare at the spot where his hand had been for just a moment and feel your heart shatter in your chest. You’d gone and over shared with your favorite customer, the one you thought might actually be your friend, and now you’ve scared him off. Yet another tally to add to the shit morning. You collapse into the chair behind the counter and rest your head in your hands, trying to will the tears away.

You’re not sure how long goes by before you hear the bell over the door again. And really, nobody comes in this early, so why are they choosing today of all days? You hastily wipe your face on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and stand up, plastering a smile onto your lips to greet whoever is in the store.

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s… Oscar. He’s walking towards you, though he’s not looking at you. He has three takeout coffee cups balanced precariously in his hands. His hair matches yours now, soaking wet and hanging over his forehead. You burst into laughter as he sets them down.

“Oh my god, I thought I scared you off,” you say, brushing a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“No,” he says, eyes wide. “You said you needed caffeine. There’s a coffee shop just down the road.”

You laugh and press your hands to the counter, leaning towards the cups. “Three cups?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I got you coffee, but I didn’t know if you wanted cream or sugar. So,” he points at the smallest of the three cups, “this is cream,” he says while digging in his pockets. Then he places an assortment of sugar packets on the counter. “And here’s sugar. The other cup is mine.”

You grin at him, shaking your head. “I knew you were my favorite customer for a reason.”

The smile he gives you in return is bright enough to make up for the lack of sun, to wash away the rain clouds, to warm your cold hands. You open the lid to the coffee and pour a bit of cream in, and then add two sugars. Oscar watches, nodding.

“I’ll know for next time,” he says.

Your heart flutters in your chest. Next time. You like the sound of that. You wrap your hands around the paper cup and let the warmth seep into your fingers before you take a sip. You sigh happily, meeting his eyes over the lid. The cup in his hand has something written on it in messy pen. You wonder if the barista tried to give him their number, and you fight back the jealous feeling at the thought.

“Thank you,” you say, softly.

“It’s no biggie,” he insists. “I owed you anyway, for saving Greg.”

He hangs out for a while that morning, leaning on your counter and chatting. You re-pot some plants and then bring them out to the displays, and he follows along. There’s something about his presence alone that warms you up from the inside out. By the time he looks at his watch and curses, muttering about having a meeting, you’re feeling much better. His hand brushes your shoulder before he leaves. You call after him to thank him again for the coffee.

He stops in the doorway, rain falling on his arm that’s extended to hold the door open. “I’ll see you soon!”

Then he disappears into the storm.

…..

You don’t see him soon. It’s not abnormal for Oscar to go a couple weeks without stopping in, so at first you don’t think much of it. Each Tuesday, though, you look up eagerly when the bell over the door rings, and your heart sinks when it’s not him. Maybe you really did over share, maybe he did get scared off. You try not to think about it.

It’s just… he was cute, and kind, and fun to talk to. He brought you coffee. You wonder how his plants are doing, if he’s still playing music for them while he’s gone. You have fleeting images in your brain of him watering the plants, taking the time to look for new leaves and check the roots. You almost wish he’d have another plant emergency, just to give him a reason to stop back in.

Eventually, after a month goes by and he hasn’t been back, you give up almost entirely. You’ll move on eventually, find a new favorite customer. You couldn’t have expected him to keep coming around forever, after all. To him, you were just another retail worker.

You do end up seeing his American friend one more time. He comes in on a Wednesday morning, just like before. He doesn’t stop and look at any of the plants, instead beelining for you. You’re working on bagging some potting soil and watch him with wide eyes.

“Hi,” you say. “Can I help you find something?”

“No, I just-“ he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I super killed that succulent.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re Oscar’s friend, right? He didn’t help you?”

The guy shakes his head. “He made fun of me, though. Said I overwatered it.”

“How is he, anyways?” You ask.

Logan frowns. “He’s good.”

You nod. “Well, d’you want to try again?”

“No, that’s not why I-“ he sighs, rubbing his temples. “He won’t shut up about you, you know.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Find that hard to believe, since he hasn’t been here for almost a month.”

Which is maybe a little mean spirited. And probably not something you should be saying to his friend. You wince.

Now it’s his turn to blink wildly. “So you miss him too?”

You squint at him. “Why are we having this conversation? I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Logan,” he says. “You haven’t like… reached out to him or anything?”

“How would I?” You ask. “I don’t even know his last name, let alone his phone number.”

“His last name’s Piastri.”

“That feels like information you shouldn’t be giving away to strangers.”

He’s not listening, though. Something seems to have clicked in his head. His eyes go wide and he starts to back away.

“I have to go,” he says. “Thanks!”

You’ve had a lot of strange interactions while working retail, but that one comes in pretty high on the list. And it leaves you wondering about Oscar, which is something you’re trying desperately not to do. All in all, not a great day.

…..

Two weeks later, you clock out of your Tuesday shift around lunchtime and head down the street. It’s raining again, but at least this time you’re armed with a raincoat and an umbrella. Your car is parked nearby, but you’re in the mood for coffee and warm food, so you head to the cafe nearby. You try not to think about the time Oscar had brought you coffee from there. You can’t help picturing his soft smile, eyes trained on the cups balanced precariously in his hands.

You make it halfway to the cafe before a gust of wind hits your umbrella at just the right angle and snaps the metal supports. Then, as if the universe is playing a cruel trick on you, a car speeds by on the road next to you, hits a puddle, and sprays you with muddy water. It soaks through your clothes and onto your skin nearly immediately. You fight the urge to ball your hands into fists and yell dramatically at the sky.

“Shit,” someone says, and the sound of his voice makes your breath catch in your chest. Then he says your name.

You turn, coming face to face with Oscar. Well. Okay. He’s studying you with a pained look on his face and standing under an umbrella.

“Yeah, shit,” you mutter, shaking water from your hands. “Oh my God. Hi, by the way. It’s been a bit.”

“It has,” he agrees, shuffling closer to hold the umbrella over you. “Here. Um. You okay?”

You shrug. “S’just water. I won’t melt.”

Oscar laughs- god, you’ve missed that sound- and nudges your shoulder. “You’ve got bad luck with rainstorms, huh?”

You nod. You’re trying not to freak out at the fact that he’s here. Oscar is standing next to you, holding his umbrella over your head. He’s here and he’s talking to you and he’s feeling sympathetic, which maybe means he doesn’t think you’re completely crazy.

“S’what I get for trying to go get coffee,” you say over the sound of raindrops on the umbrella. “And lunch. Now I’ve got to drive home like this.”

Oscar frowns, his whole face crumpling with it. “Hey, you know… I live just a block down. If you want, you could come and change into some dry clothes.”

Your mother would kill you for even considering it. You can practically hear her yelling in your head. But god, it’s Oscar. It’s Oscar and you haven’t seen him in a month and you might never see him again. There’s something about the soft look on his face that makes you trust him.

“Okay,” you say, quietly. “That would be… really nice. But only if you’re sure.”

“Of course,” he says.

Your shoulders brush as you walk, the umbrella over both of your heads. The two of you are nearly silent on the walk there. It’s like neither of you quite know what to say. You know you don’t. You worry he’s regretting inviting you to his place. But he lets you in the front door, leads you to the elevator, and all the way up to flat. When he opens the door, warm air pours over you like a river. You step in and toe off your boots, wincing at the squish of your wet socks.

Oscar winces, too. “Here, the bathroom’s right there,” he says, pointing at a partially open door. “I’ll go grab you some dry clothes. There’s towels in there too.”

You nod and step into the room. So far, the little bit of his apartment that you’ve seen matches up with what he’s told you. There are no shoes sitting out in the entryway. The bathroom is nearly spotless, which makes you feel a bit guilty about the dirty rainwater you’re dripping onto the floor. Oscar’s only gone long enough for you to take off your jacket.

He knocks on the door. “I’ve got clothes for you.”

You open the door, and he’s standing there, eyes squeezed shut. The clothes are held out in midair, like he’s trying to keep his distance. You laugh and take them, murmuring out a thanks. As you go to change, you hear him walk away.

You shuck your wet clothes off and drop them in the tub, shivering when the air hits your bare skin. You wipe the rainwater from your skin. Then you pull on the clothes he gave you- a t-shirt, a hoodie, and a pair of sweatpants. Plus a pair of thick, warm looking socks. All of them are baggy on you, but luckily the pants have a drawstring so you can pull them tight around your hips. You wring the water out of your hair with the towel and then wrap it around your shoulders before you step out into the hallway.

You can hear him moving around in the next room, so you head there. He’s standing at the kitchen island, which is open to the living room. He looks up when he hears you walk in, and a soft smile spreads across his face. His living room is neat and tidy, too. His plants are all lined up on the windowsill. You recognize them all from your store, and you smile.

“D’you have a plastic bag I can put my clothes in?” You ask, and he tilts his head at you. “I don’t wanna get more rainwater on your floor. Or in my car, really.”

“I mean, sure,” he says with a shrug. “Or… you could throw them in the washer. Hang out for a bit.”

He’s not looking at you anymore. You’re glad, because you’re sure you have a dumbfounded look on your face. It’s then that you notice the coffee machine running on the counter behind him, and the snacks out on the counter. Your mind is racing. He hasn’t stopped by the shop in nearly a month, but now…

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you say, unsure what else there is to possibly say.

He shakes his head, still not looking up. “You’re not.”

You cast your eyes to the window. It’s raining harder now. And god, you’ve missed him. You didn’t realize just how much until you were standing here.

“It’s been a while,” he says, turning his back to you when the coffee maker beeps. “We have some catching up to do.”

You think about letting it go. Maybe it’s enough to be here. Maybe you just shouldn’t bring it up. But really, you’re confused about the fact that he stopped coming to the store.

You tilt your head at him. “Yeah, you stopped coming in.”

“Well, you never texted me,” he says. “So I figured I’d freaked you out or something. But then Logan said he stopped by and you asked about me-“

You stare at the back of his head, bewildered, and you break in. “Oscar, I don’t have your number.”

He freezes, hand in midair, reaching for a coffee mug. He turns his head over his shoulder, and his eyes meet your again. He looks just as confused as you feel. Suddenly, your heart is racing in your chest.

“I wrote it on the coffee cup,” he says, voice quiet.

You stare at him, wide eyed. “There was nothing on my coffee cup.” He shakes his head, opens his mouth, but you keep talking. “I’m sure of it. But there was writing on yours. I know because I wondered if the barista was trying to give you her number.”

Oscar just stares at you for a moment, his lips barely parted. “Shit. I gave you the wrong cup.”

Shit, you repeat in your head. He tried to give you his number. He thought he gave you his number, and then you never texted him. He thought you rejected him. No wonder he stopped coming in.

“You could’ve just asked me for my number, you know,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but this was cuter,” he says. “It was- it was my number and this cheesy ass pickup line that Logan helped me think of and I- I really thought you just didn’t…”

“Pickup line?”

“Looking back it sounds stupid,” he admits. “But yeah. I was trying to ask you out on a date. And so when you didn’t text me…”

You cross the room, walking right up in front of him. His hands have fallen to his sides. His eyes trace your face as you smile up at him. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, brows slightly furrowed. You can smell the coffee now- it reminds you of when he brought you the coffee weeks ago.

“You should ask me now,” you tell him, smiling brightly.

He nods. “Without the pickup line, though.”

You pout up at him. He grins. One of his hands comes up to the side of your face, fingers cupping your jaw. His thumb prods at your cheek.

“Will you go on a date with me?” He asks, voice low.

You pretend to think about it. Pretend it doesn’t make your heart melt just to hear him say it. “Hm. When?”

He shrugs, looks around. “How about now?”

“It’s raining,” you remind him.

“We can have a stay at home date,” he suggests. “Coffee, lunch, a movie, maybe.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” He says, sounding a bit like he doesn’t quite believe you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since the day we met.”

Oscar laughs and leans closer. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for, then.”

He presses his lips to yours, and your eyes slip closed. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him close. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear- it’s still wet from the rain, and both of you giggle into the kiss. His hands drop to your hips, shoving the sweatshirt out of the way to hold onto you. You could kiss him for hours, you think. It’s all you’ve wanted for months now.

The coffee is growing cold on the counter. Suddenly, though, you don’t need caffeine.

He pulls away slightly, looks you up and down. “You look cute in my clothes, you know.”

You giggle and tug on the sweatshirt, pointing at the orange logo on the chest. “Thanks. Big McLaren guy, are you?”

Oscar laughs and brushes his lips against your temple. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Then he goes back to kissing you. You’re not complaining. You’ve got all the time in the world to learn all about him.

…..

Weeks later, you corner Logan at the British Grand Prix. Oscar’s distracted by interviews, but Logan’s not busy.

“What was the pickup line he wrote?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest.

Surprisingly, he needs very little convincing. He just laughs, eyes darting to where Oscar stands behind you in the media pen. His gaze is full of amusement.

“I be-leaf we’re meant to be,” he says in a teasing tone. “He was down bad.”

You laugh and turn over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend. He’s grinning watching the two of you talk. Later, you tease him for the cheesy line, for hiding behind coffee cups and scribbled pen when he could’ve just told you. He teases you for the same, for not telling him how you felt, for not making a move. And then you look at him, knowing your gaze is terribly soft.

“I believe it, too,” you tell him.

When he kisses you, you draw constellations between the freckles on his face with your thumb. Outside, it starts to rain.

a/n: can you tell I am a big plant nerd? anyways live laugh love oscar piastri I want to help him pick out plants :)

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #formula one oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #honeywrites #op81 #if you’ve made it this far in the tags somehow hi

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luxaofhesperides · 1 month

Note

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen.

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart.

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment.

They’ll never get to meet.

Duke had never felt so alone before.

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours.

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again.

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow?

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart.

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage.

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer.

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better.

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets.

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret.

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes.

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it.

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe.

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal.

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts.

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more.

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning.

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago.

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden.

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin.

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands.

“Meet me out front in an hour then.”

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick.

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them.

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit.

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin.

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful.

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience.

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was.

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails?

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him.

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot.

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him.

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants.

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder.

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression.

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke.

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark.

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees.

“Man, what a day.”

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny.

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen.

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark.

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #dannys obv not going to be able to keep his identity as phantom hidden for long in gotham #esp since he wants to protect people and transforms to do that #and one of those times will be in front of duke to protect him from some goons trying to kidnap duke for his connections to the wayne famil #duke ends up using his powers as well leading to an identity reveal on both ends #and then the dots connect and duke yells THIS IS WHY U KEEP DYING and danny has to sheepishly apologize for how large dukes soulmark is #he does kiss all the new stars that show up on dukes skin tho so hes forgiven very quickly #(not that duke was ever mad. he's just worried)#thanks for the prompt!!

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 7.5k

Chapter 1/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Late August, 1996.

July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana.

The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior.

“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool.

“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it.

“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”

The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking.

You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”

She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”

You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.

“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”

Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.

“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”

“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too.

“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in.

“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”

An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended.

“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”

“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated.

“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.

“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do.

“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.”

The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”

“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.”

Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.

“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said.

A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.

“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.

“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.

Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.

The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.

“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”

Oh.

“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol.

“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”

“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically.

Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”

Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself.

Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink.

“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth.

Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band.

You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”

She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”

You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis.

“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt.

Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name.

Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat.

“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.

“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”

“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.

But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”

“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”

He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”

“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”

“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.

“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”

You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence.

“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.

Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.

Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.

“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”

“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.

“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”

He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”

“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.

“Turned thirty last month.”

“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.

You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.”

End of conversation.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs.

“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”

Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.

“You still want to?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”

Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home.

You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.

A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.

“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.

“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.

The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.

Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.

“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.

“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…

Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”

You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building.

The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.”

You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.

Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.

“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin.

“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.

“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it.

Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”

You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.

“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.

Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”

“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers.

Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.

Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth.

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”

He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him.

“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend.

“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.

“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.

“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.

“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”

“Huh? What?”

“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.

“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”

Stay for a bit, baby.

It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!”

He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you.

You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.

You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.

You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.

“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”

That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”

Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”

Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.

You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.

“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.

“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night?

“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”

“Yeah…is Jess there?”

He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”

“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.

But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.

Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”

Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.”

His…son?

Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”

“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”

“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”

“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.

“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”

You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?

The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.

Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.

Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.

“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.

“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.

“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”

“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.

A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”

Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.

You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best.

The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.

“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”

“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.

Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…

And a Harris Munson.

“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”

The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.

You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes.

“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”

“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead.

“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie.

“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”

You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now.

“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”

“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”

The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks.

Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”

“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys.

“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks.

“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek.

You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”

Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”

“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.

After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.

“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”

He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”

“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”

Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.

Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.”

Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.

“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris.

Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts.

“Excuse me?”

“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face.

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”

Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Can’t come soon enough.”

Taglist: @littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk

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solarisfortuneia · 2 months

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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together.

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.

“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.

please, please tell me it’ll be okay.

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.

“— just wake up, beloved.”

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—”

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you.

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities.

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long.

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.

a wish that you’d come back, somehow.

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.

alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware #this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs #like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday #like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other #i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport #ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them #time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go #ily guys #ew barf feelings </3 /j

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navybrat817 · 1 month

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The Dad Diaries: Grief

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky explains grief to Jamie as best as he can when you need a minute to yourself. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, touch of fluff, grief, loss of a friend, reflecting, talk of death, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Another part to the The Dad Diaries . Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky could hear your cries before he reached the bedroom, the sound causing a lump to form in his throat. He could picture you hastily wiping at your face when he knocked. You were in pain and it hurt him to know you were hurting. The worst part was that it wasn’t the kind of pain he could fix by patching it up. It was the kind of hurt that lingered beneath the surface before it clawed its way out.

Grief.

“Do you need anything, doll?” He asked.

“Just give me a minute, please!” You called out, your voice close to sounding like your normal self. You were trying your best to be strong when what you needed was a moment to break. People didn’t realize the weight of the things they carried until they buckled under them.

And you didn’t need to be strong all the time.

“Mama?” Jamie asked, reaching a hand out toward the door.

Bucky kissed the top of his head. “Mama needs a minute,” he whispered before he held him against his chest. He hoped his smell and steady heart beat soothed him. “She’ll snuggle up with you soon, okay?”

If anything could make you feel better apart from being in his arms, it was having your son nuzzle against you.

Jamie made a small sound, his lower lip trembling. “Mama,” he said again.

Bucky didn’t take it to heart that his son wanted you. He understood that there were days when he’d want his dad and other days he’d want his mom and times when he’d want both of you. If anything, he felt proud that his son wanted to go to you. Maybe he sensed that you needed support and love.

“I know you want your mama,” he said, carrying him back to the living room. “But you are stuck with me for another minute.”

Jamie moved his head, his eyes set in a stubborn stare. He looked so much like you at that moment, demanding with a look to know what was the matter and how to fix it. What could he say?

“Jamie, you know how you have your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Aunt Nat and everyone else?” He asked, a sad smile touching his lips at the happy look in his little boy’s eyes at the mention of his friends. He wanted his child to hold onto that innocence for as long as he could. “Well, your mama had a friend who was going to be like an aunt to you, too.”

Was. Past tense. Because your friend recently passed away. You wondered if she knew how important she was to you. If she knew how she impacted your life. She was too young in your eyes to go. Still had so many things she wanted to do. While death is fair in that it comes for everyone, it doesn’t always feel fair when someone you care for is taken away too soon.

The one thing you were thankful for was that she was no longer in pain.

“Mama’s friend, your aunt, isn’t here anymore. She misses her and she’s sad that she’s gone.”

“Mama sad?” Jamie repeated, his eyes wide.

“Yeah, Nugget. She’s very sad. Grieving. And grief is… so many things,” Bucky explained, swallowing a bit as he felt a crack in his heart. “It’s loss and mourning. It’s love that you carry inside and it no longer has a place to go.”

Jamie gazed at him, soaking up every word. His son was too young to hear something like this. Too precious. But if life taught him anything, it’s that it was too short and there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

“Some days the grief comes out of nowhere. You never really know when it’ll happen or why. You may hear a song you’ve heard dozens of times before or catch a scent of something familiar and it triggers a memory or feeling,” he told him, kissing his forehead again because he needed to ground himself. “You think you’re fine and then you fall apart.”

That was exactly what had happened a few minutes prior. You were smiling one moment as the three of you sat in the living room and the next you burst into tears before you rushed out. Bucky wished like hell he could’ve manifested your sadness into something tangible so he could snuff it out. It wasn’t his battle to fight, but he could be by your side to wipe the tears away if you let him. Or whisper words of care. Or to say nothing at all. Some didn’t always want to hear words of comfort or hope when they just needed to feel.

He would be there to give you whatever you needed or asked for.

“It’s okay to feel those feelings, Jamie. I get sad, too. There’s no timeline for healing or grieving. It takes as long as it takes. And we’re lucky in a way to feel things so strongly,” he told him. You were always understanding and patient on his off days. He more than lucked out by having you as his wife. “You know what your Uncle Vis says grief is? That it’s love persevering,” he added, bouncing him a bit to make him smile. It put a smile on his face, too. “And your mama has so much love to give.”

“So do you.”

Bucky looked toward the doorway where you stood. Bloodshot and puffy eyes, but with a small smile on your beautiful face. He wanted to hold you and remind you that you weren’t alone. “Hey,” he said as Jamie reached for you. “I think he wants to cheer you up.”

“Is that right? Well, I think a snuggle with my boys is just the thing I need,” you said as you took a seat beside Bucky and took Jamie into your arms. “Sorry I rushed off like that.”

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered. He had plenty of moments where he needed to step away and compose himself when his thoughts got too loud. “We just want you to be okay,” he added, kissing your temple before Jamie grabbed your face.

“Mama no sad,” he said, forcing your cheeks up in a smile. The sight almost brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because it was so simple and heartfelt. “No sad.”

You giggled, a soft sound, before it erupted into full blown laughter. It soothed the crack he felt earlier in his heart. The room felt brighter, especially when Jamie joined in with the laughter. “Not sad, Nugget,” you assured him before you looked at your husband, love shining through like always. “Not anymore.”

The grief from your loss would come again in waves. Just like the days Bucky mourned the parts of his life he lost and couldn’t get back. Some days were harder than others, especially when regret and “what if’s” came to mind, but the important thing was that neither of you allowed yourselves to live alone or lose yourselves in grief. Not when there was so much to be thankful for.

You felt what you needed to feel. You asked for help and leaned on each other. And you carried on together.

Because what is grief, if not love persevering?

I lost more than one loved one recently and writing this helped me process some of the loss. We all need someone like Bucky. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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shadowlali · 9 months

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the house sitter

COD - Phillip Graves x fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~ 3.3k summary: Phillip gets help from the neighbors’ daughter. masterlist

warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N, not too many details on reader's appearance, reader can blush but in only one scene, implied age gap, use of toys by and on f!reader, oral (f! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, some proofreading a/n: phillip rescues a stray in this and i actually think he would make a really great cat dad! :)

When Phillip bought the new home, he isn’t surprised to find a stray cat at the front door. He's surprised that he's come to care for the small, black cat. He isn’t a superstitious person, but the cat matching the colors of his beloved company only encourages him to believe that buying this home is a good sign. When he's informed of a pressing situation back at base, he's worried about leaving his new friend alone.

He speaks to his neighbors, your parents, and they're quick to offer you as a house sitter. Except, they don’t inform you he’s stopping by to leave the keys and instructions. You hear the doorbell ring and assume they've forgotten their house keys before their trip into the city. So, you open the door in tiny, cotton shorts and a bralette, fully expecting one of your parents to be standing in front of you.

“Oh! Um, hi?” you ask, a little confused to see a stranger at your door.

“Well hello there,” he pauses before continuing, “My name’s Phillip, I moved down the street. Your parents said you could house sit for me while I’m gone for a bit. My cat, Phantom, needs someone to feed and watch him.”

The surprised look on your face is the culmination of a few things.

One, the stranger in front of you is the new neighbor your parents have talked about and who you thought was much older. However, the man in front of you can’t be older than mid-40’s and very handsome. Typical all-American good looks with blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

Two, you slowly become aware of the clothing, or lack of, that you are wearing. And while his eyes stay on your face the entire time, you don’t miss the quick sweep of his eyes and the smirk on his face before his feature cool again. You chalk it up to the heat of the sun that causes your body to warm up, and not because you like the way he looks at you.

Three, you have no idea what he was talking about.

“Nice to meet you Phillip uh – I’m sorry, you said you needed a house sitter for your cat, Phantom? And you spoke to my parents?”

“Ah! I guess they didn’t tell you yet. I just spoke to them on the phone and they said if it's alright with you, you could stay at my house. I’d offer to bring Phantom here, but I think it's best if he stays home.”

“Yeah, okay. I could do that. How long will you be gone?”

“Two weeks, give or take. I fly out tonight and I’ll let you know once I’m flying back. I don’t mind if you have your friends or a boyfriend over as long as Phantom stays calm.”

Now Phillip doesn’t need to mention the boyfriend part, but he can’t deny how curious he is to see if you have one. He wasn’t expecting a sweet nymph, like you, to open the door, especially in those tiny shorts and even tinier shirt. Could it even be called a shirt?

“Uh no – don’t worry. My friends aren’t back yet for their summer break. And… no boyfriend. It’ll just be me and Phantom at your house.”

Phillip smiles wide, “Well, darlin’, I’m sure you and Phantom will have a good time.”

You try not to let it show how much you enjoy the pet-name he gives you or the slip of his southern accent, your nipples becoming sensitive against the bralette and a deep pulse being sent directly to your pus–

“How about I get your number before I leave and take you over to the house so you can get a good lay of the land?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Um, let me change and put on some shoes. I’ll be right back.”

You hear a light laugh as he steps inside to wait for you. The short drive to his house is mostly uneventful. He asks you a few questions about what you're studying and if you had taken care of a cat before. You actually love cats, and are used to your roommate’s cat back at college.

You also think it's incredibly kind that Phillip took in stray, not expecting someone so imposing to worry about defenseless animals. Phantom has a shiny black coat and is so cuddly the moment you walk in the door. He wraps around your legs, purring deeply. You bend down to pet his soft head, Phantom taking that moment to jump in your arms.

Phillip laughs,“ Looks like he really likes you.”

“I think I just fell in love. I’ll take good care of Phantom. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

He shows you around the house, smooth wood and dark leather a theme throughout. Phillip’s home is far from cluttered, but there are touches of him everywhere. He has photos of what you assume are the soldiers at his company, books placed in random spots as if he needs something to read while in a certain part of the home, but so incredibly tidy and clean.

“Phantom’s taken a liking to sleeping in this bed, I just keep my door open at night in case he wants to come in. He’ll get antsy if I’m downstairs too late, so I try to be upstairs at a good time for him to do his security rounds and then sleep,” Phillip says with a laugh as he brings you upstairs, motioning to the fluffy bed next to his door.

“The guest bedrooms are down the hall. They’re not set up yet and I have too many boxes in there to move right now. You are more than welcome to sleep in my room. I’d actually prefer if you did, to not throw Phantom off his routine. I changed the sheets before I went over.”

Phillip does have too many boxes inside all of the guest bedrooms, so it's not exactly a lie. He's short on time, and can’t stay for too long. And sure, they're all empty boxes that he can easily move into one room. But the idea of you lying down in his bed arouses him like no other.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean I could move some stuff around, I don’t mind,” you say, a blush rising on your cheeks at the idea of sleeping in his bed.

“I’m sure, darlin’. I think you’ll like sleeping in my bed," he says, sending a quick wink your way.

Phillip takes you back home after the tour and gives you a set of keys and written instructions. You pack your essentials, transferring some clothes from your unpacked suitcases into a duffel bag while you wait for your parents to get home.

While arranging your things, you manage to drop the small, black box that holds… well, what helps you destress and take the edge off on these long nights. It's thick, dark pink, and vibrates with enough intensity for you to see stars.

You debate for a second if you want to take it with you. Two weeks without your toy seems too long. You were actually going to use it while home alone but were interrupted and left a little hot after meeting Phillip. You quickly stuff it into your bag once you hear the door open and your parents’ voices float through the house.

Phillip’s house is cozy and interesting. He has a large book collection in his home library and a collection of vinyls. Phantom is great company, either lounging on the various cat posts set up through the house while you read and listen to music, or lying in your lap when he wants attention.

Phillip’s kitchen is fully stocked and has a few plants along the window sill. His garage has only one vintage sports car and a motorcycle, the other lifted truck being taken by him. The nights spent in Phillip’s bed make your heart race. The sheets smell like fresh laundry and the unmistakable scent of sandalwood cologne. You associate that smell to Phillip: clean and woodsy.

You try so hard to be good the first night and respect his bed, but your fantasies run wild. Dreams of Commander Graves spreading your lush thighs and stroking you with his tongue or fingers until your vision goes black. Dreams of his hands gripping your waist as he pounds into you, your hands clawing the sheets from the pleasure.

On the second night, you grab a towel and place it on the bed, knowing you'll cover the silk sheets with your wetness. You're a little nervous and feel a little guilty. What would he think if he saw you right now? Would he enjoy it? Or kick you out and call your parents? Ultimately, the positive fantasies win as the toy is thick and able to hit all the right places. And that’s how you spend your nights, either in Phillip’s ginormous tub using the toy or in his bed.

It's nearing three weeks at this point. Phillip had let you know it might be a little longer until he came back and you know it would be difficult for him to contact you while out doing his job. You should’ve been prepared for him to come back and maybe not let you know in time. Which is exactly what happens.

Phillip has exerted serious amounts of energy these past few weeks. He didn't expect this mission to take so long, but luckily he's back on his jet flying home. Before he knows it, he's passed out from exhaustion and doesn’t call or text you that he's coming back. Once the jet touches down, it's nearing midnight.

Phillip decides against contacting you, believing you’ll be asleep by this time. A short while later, he arrives home and walks in. Phillip walk into the downstairs bathroom, hearing the pitter patter of Phantom’s paws coming to greet him. Phillip’s heart soars, Phantom’s coat only shinier and smoother since he last saw him. Phillip takes a shower, allowing the hot water to wash away his exhaustion.

Phillip would be lying if he said he isn’t at all curious to know what you look like sleeping in his bed. He tries to stay downstairs, knowing he could go into his office and read or watch TV in the living room without disturbing you.

But, what if there is something wrong? What if you had kicked the covers off and were cold in your sleep? What if you left the window open and the hot air was causing it to be incredibly hot in the room? Deciding that he's only thinking of your well being, he ascends the stairs two at a time.

Once he nears his room, he hears low whines and a quiet vibration sound coming from within. Thinking you're in pain, he pushes open the door, seeing your pretty legs spread wide, your head thrown back in pleasure, and the unmistakable view of you fucking yourself with a thick, pink dildo.

“Just like that Commander Graves, fuck me just like that! Oh God,” you plead.

You didn’t hear Phillip walk into his home or the shower turn on in the downstairs bathroom. Granted, Phillip is a skilled soldier who learned to walk quietly given the nature of his job.

You also don’t hear the woosh of the door push open, only hearing the low groan escape from his throat. You jump up in fear, your face beet red once you realize who stands at the door. You're incredibly embarrassed, to say the least.

“Oh – fuck! Holy – I’m so sorry Phillip! I didn’t hear you get home! I didn’t hear my phone either! I'm so, so sorry!” you exclaim, voice on the verge of tears.

Phillip stays still for only a moment, his chest bare and a pair of black silk pajama pants low on his hips.

His hand drag across his face, a smile forming on his lips. ”Who were you imagining?”

“I – what?”

“Who. Were. You. Imagining?” Philip enunciates each word, walking closer to the bed.

Your breathing is fast, your mind trying to catch up to what is happening. ”I – Phillip, I’m sor–”

“No, I don’t want to hear that you're sorry. I want you to answer my question,” he orders.

“I was imagining… you, that it was you, fucking me,” you whisper.

“Is that what you want, babydoll? You want Commander Graves to fuck you? You want my tongue on your clit and my fingers inside that pretty cunt? You want me to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk tomorrow mornin’?”

You whimper at his words, your pussy hot and slick. He nears the bed, dragging his fingers across the sheets, close to your legs but not quite touching you.

“I need you to ask me, babydoll. I won’t do it unless you ask me.”

“Yes Commander. Please, I want you.”

He grabs both of your ankles and drags your ass to the edge of the bed, your head falling backwards against the mattress. Your thighs are spread obscenely at his waist, your thin nightgown pushed off your shoulders and ruched at your stomach leaving your breasts and pussy bare to his eyes.

He looms over you, dragging his mouth and tongue over your nipples before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Phillip’s soft lips caress yours with each kiss, tasting like mint. His tongue plunges in and out of your mouth while his fingers skate from your ribcage to your soft thighs. He gives you one more wet kiss before having you remove the nightgown, his eyes trailing down to your open thighs.

“This cunt as sweet as it looks? So slick and creamy for me?”

You can’t respond, can only watch him fall to his knees to tongue your entrance. Your heart beats in your throat a mile a minute. Your mouth opens in a scream, back arching as his tongue lashes from your entrance to the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Phillip’s moan vibrates against your core, moving his fingers to tease your slick entrance. He pushes a finger in slowly, allowing you to adjust before pushing in a second finger.

“Fuck darlin’,” his mouth moving to leave small bites along your inner thighs, ”your cunt swallowed my fingers so quickly. Look at how red and swollen you are, so desperate for me.”

His fingers speed up, curving inside with each thrust.

“Commander, ah! Fuck, just like that!” your cry, voice high pitched and needy.

“How often did you fuck yourself in my bed? Did you wish I was here with you? Watching you play with this pretty cunt until I fucked you silly?”

“It was the da –” he takes that moment to give a hard lick to your button, interrupting you, ”day after I got here. Yes, I ima – imagined you fuck – fucking me in your bed.” Each word becomes more difficult to say as pleasure claws at your skin.

His hand reaches for the toy thrown haphazardly to your side, turning it on and placing it at your entrance. Phillip continues lapping, inserting the toy inch by inch. Your denied orgasm from earlier only causes this one to hit you like a truck.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the feel of the toy deep inside of you, vibrating non-stop and the feel of Phillip’s tongue slashing at your clit. You move your hips, trying to escape the torrent of pleasure.

Phillip places a firm hand on your lower belly, preventing you from moving, ”Take it.”

You squirt on his mouth and the toy, feeling like you're floating. He finally removes and turns off the toy, wiping his mouth along your inner thighs.

“How was that babydoll?”

You're drunk off pleasure, only able to respond with a small groan. He laughs and mounts the bed, dragging you up to the pillows. Your body is incredibly lax, allowing him to maneuver you he wants.

He places a pillow under your hips, getting you level with his waist. Phillip finally kicks off his pajama pants, freeing his heavy cock. Your energy slowly returning, you place tentative fingers along his length, loving how firm he is. He wraps your hand fully around his length and gives a few pumps, leaning down to kiss your lips and chin.

“Your hands are so soft, darlin’. But I can’t have you touch me too long or else I'll finish too soon. I want to sink in your swollen cunt first, will you let me?”

Your body shudders at his words, ”Yes Commander.”

Phillip leans back, his smile wide, showing his fanged teeth at the corners of his mouth. He spreads open your thighs, pushing your knee to your chest. You're fully and completely exposed to him. The bright moonlight highlights your perfectly swollen and slick cunt. Phillip teases your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“Babydoll,” the nickname draws out in a groan, ”you feel so fucking gorgeous.”

He sinks all the way in, his hips fusing to your folded thigh. Phillip drags out in an unhurried pace, wanting to burn this moment into his mind and body forever. He's a clever and accomplished man who commands respect in every room, but his brain has completely short circuited in this moment.

All he can think about is your gummy walls squeezing him into oblivion, your sweet aroma, and the moans slipping from your throat. Phillip reaches with one hand to pluck your nipples, hard tipped and begging for attention. Your hips begin to twist and match his rhythm, his hips pumping faster and the wet noises becoming louder. You place a hand over his, making sure he doesn’t stop kneading your breasts.

“My poor babydoll… All alone in this big bed. Having to touch herself every night until I got home. So ready and needy for me.”

His words are like honey over your skin.

Your voice is pleading when you whine, ”I needed you so bad, Commander.”

“I’m here now, babydoll.”

You're being fucked into the mattress, each thrust deep and unrelenting. His eyes move from your face to your jiggling tits and to your slick lower bodies. Phillip moves his thumb to swipe repeatedly at your clit, causing electric sparks to shoot behind your eyes.

His thrusts become sloppy and clumsy, lips placing kisses along your jaw and mouth. You twist and squeeze around him, loving how perfect he feels inside of you, much better than you could’ve imagined. Phillip moves to bury his head in your neck, your leg bent as far as possible as he drags out completely before sliding back in with hard strokes.

Lightning spreads fast throughout your body, your nails dragging down Phillip’s back. You cover his cock in your wetness, Phillip’s body becoming weak from the pleasure. He follows shortly after, his moans loud in your ear. Phillip spills inside of you, fucking you until every last drop of him is inside of you. He drops halfway on you, your bodies sticky with sweat.

“You okay?” Phillip asks after a few moments.

“Perfect.”

The rest of the night is spent with your legs around his waist or your ass up while he pounds from behind. You stay a few extra nights at his home, letting your parents know you're still helping while Phillip recovers from his mission. Phantom loves every minute of the extra attention.

#phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 #phillip graves #cod mw2 smut #graves x reader #graves x you #shadowlali

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

— “it’ll be our little secret, professor”

☀︎ - pairing: eris vanserra x reader

☀︎ - summary: you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor?

☀︎ - warnings: smut, oral (m.receiving), hint of degradation, taboo relationships, student x professor, both are obviously old enough, i just want him so bad GOD

☀︎ - amara’s note: this is going to be a series where i’ll post text threads with prof eris, headcanons, just different things. I’m planning this series to be about 10 chapters, but I literally have no structure, I just write. also i hope you like this as much as I do. and if you see any mistakes, no you don’t

In the corner of the club, everything felt a bit fuzzy. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and different scents. Dim lights created a soft atmosphere, and the distant sounds of the crowd and music blended together. It was like time slowed down, and you were in your own world, just soaking in the low-key vibe of the club corner.

The earlier shots hit you, and now you're in a blissful, relaxed state. All you could focus on were the hands exploring your body, lips locking with yours, and captivating scent surrounding you.

In the heat of the night, you ended up kissing a stranger without a second thought. The risk of being alone with someone unfamiliar did register – you just didn't care. Discovering your boyfriend's cheating after a difficult three-year relationship, marked by numerous breakups and makeups, left you feeling free from a toxic situation.

Now, free from those shackles, you embraced the chance to breathe and have some carefree fun. You had gone out with your friends, planning to originally get black out drunk but you suppose there’s better ways to cope.

Coming up with the idea of harmless fun, you and Elain came up with new identities for everyone to play out. Providing a random name, you spun a fat lie of being an up-and-coming writer, in the middle of writing your latest novel. Falsely claiming to be older, you described a beautiful house situated on the outskirts of Prythian that you owned. It was all part of a lighthearted game, with no harm intended since you believed you'd never cross paths with the guy again. It was ridiculously easy to bag the man since he didn’t tell you anything about himself, only nodding when you talked about yourself.

The attractive stranger had dark copper hair, captivating amber eyes, and stood several inches taller than you. His eyes glistened in mirth mixed with hunger. His muscular build caught your attention, and you found yourself grabbing onto his strong arms.

If his looks didn't captivate you, his mouth certainly did. His wicked tongue unleashed clever comebacks and tantalizing dirty talk that sent shivers down your spine.

The best part? He was older, more mature, more confident and much more good-looking – just so much more than your ex. Comparisons might be wrong, but if you had to choose, the man in front of you was a no-brainer.

Because he wasn't some guy; he was a man who acted like a man, who spoke like a man and touched you like a real fucking man.

The man had been touching and kissing you for what felt like an eternity. You greedily wanted more from him. You didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and almost as if he could sense it, he invited you back to his place.

You nodded, excusing yourself to let your friends know about leaving. Approaching them, you shared your decision to go with him, and Gwyn, Nesta, Em and Elain cheered you on. However, Feyre, always the protective friend, expressed her concern.

“Go get some, but I swear I’ll hunt him down if anything happens, got it? And have your location on.”

Her words, while somewhat playful, held a genuine undertone of worry.

You nodded and promised her you’d be safe before hurriedly made your way outside to the handsome man.

“Still want to come with me, sweet thing?” he asked curiously, making sure it was still something you wanted.

“Mm, yeah, still wanna go. Unless you've changed your mind?” Stepping forward, you grabbed the man's tie, pulling it gently as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. A playful glint clouded your gaze as you cocked your head to the side, oozing confidence.

He smirked down at you with a wicked glint, clearly showing his mind was nowhere near changed. The man stepped forward, rubbing his clothed cock against your dress, making you feel his hard on through his pants

“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?”

The chemistry you had was unmatched, he was so clever and witty and you wanted to know more about him as he led you to his car, a sleek, black one, indicating money.

You’d blame your forwardness on the alcohol tomorrow when you remembered how you just blurted out the question.

“Hey, you rich or something?” you giggled.

The man opened up the backseat door for you and through the side of his eye gave you an amused smirk.

“Or something.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, grinning, as you hopped into the backseat, enjoying the warmth of his hands securing your seatbelt and closing the door.

But hold on, the backseat?

Weren't you supposed to sit upfront with him? Before you could ask, he opened the other backseat door and slid in beside you.

Maintaining eye contact, he grinned at your confusion and said, “Alden, please take us home.” A faint "yes sir" was heard, and the car started moving. Shocked, you realized he had a driver – clearly, he was quite wealthy.

You scanned the spacious car, realizing there was more than enough room for the fun activities on your mind. With a screen separating you from the driver, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved closer, straddling his lap.

His hands instinctively found your hips, guiding your movements over him. Lips on your neck, he left dark marks as your hands ventured lower, reaching his cock, which elicited a groan from him. Your eyes widened as you felt the size of him. The man simply flashed you a subtle smile and raised his eyebrows.

You unbuckled his belt, maintaining eye contact as you carefully watched his face show pleasure as you put your hand down his pants and stroked him. You gave him a few lazy strokes, eventually shuffling off his lap and kneeling infront of him, ready to put your mouth to use.

Time became irrelevant and all that was heard were the sinful, obscene noises mixed with his hisses of pleasure as you sloppily bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tounge around the head, running your finger over the slit.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Could use this slutty little mouth forever.” he rasped, hips bucking as his hands went to your hair, slightly pulling on it as you let out a muffled whimper.

Pre cum and spit dripped down your chin, slowly making it’s way to your chest and floor as you pushed your head down further and further, feeling satisfied at his sounds of pleasure.

Once, twice, you grip on the shaft and slap the tip on your tongue before sucking on the sensitive head.

With a quick twitch of his cock, he cums, experiencing euphoria in his buzzed state. He gasps and moans pitifully as his lips twitch between his teeth and his hips buck into your mouth against his better judgement. You pump your hand at the base of his cock where you are unable to fit, swallowing as much of the hot, sticky ropes that coat your mouth as you can. As he pours into you, the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, so badly wishing your were sitting on the cock that was currently on your tongue.

His cum was everywhere - your hair, your face, your tits. He slumped against the seat and moved his eyes down back to you, catching you licking of the sticky residue of your fingers.

Before either of you have a chance to say something, the car slows down to a halt signaling that you’re probably at his place. He tucks himself into his pants and doesn’t buckle them before he opens the door and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder as you laugh. Your mind forgets about the fact that you’re covered in his cum and just blanks when you take a look at his so called house, a mansion or a fucking estate is more like it.

The lengthy driveway opened up to a stunning front yard adorned with red and orange-leaved trees, an unusual scene for the end of summer. A well-lit, ornate fountain with three tiers stood proudly infront of the house, enhancing the beauty of the surroundings. The massive Victorian mansion, with its beautiful windows and overgrown vines stunned you.

He set you down and held your hand as he led you into his room, and it overmet your expectations. Instead of a dark, edgy space, it was spacious with earthy tones and bathed in soft ambient lighting. The room exuded comfort, making you wish to stay longer. His bed, adorned with a large fluffy comforter and a million pillows, looked inviting.

Various trinkets and figurines adorned the room, but what captured your attention was a massive bookcase showcasing your favorite books. Intrigued, you dropped his hand and made your way over. Your eyes widened at seeing a book from your wishlist, yet to be released. Confused, you asked how he had it, and he explained that Sellyn Drake was an old family friend and had gifted it to him.

You decided to tease him about the book, saying, “You know, I've heard great many things about this book. How about you tell me what it's about? I heard it had some... exciting scenes.”

His eyes met yours, and with a subtle smile, he stepped closer and closer, “How about I show you instead?” The air seemed to thicken with a hint of tension, leaving you curious and captivated by the possibilities that lingered in his suggestion.

——

Your legs trembled as you hastily stood up, determined to make your exit. Having been fucked stupid all night, dawn was approaching, and the new semester was starting tomorrow, leaving you with a load of preparations. You located your dress, bag, and heels, putting the clothes on carefully. Quietly, you ordered a cab to avoid startling the man still asleep. Before leaving, your eyes lingered on his bookshelf. Tiptoeing closer, you took the book you'd eyed the night before and read the teaser on the back. Glancing between him and the book, grabbed it, and silently left his room and house.

——

Feyre, Elain, Nesta, Gwyn and Em, your friends and roomates, practically pulled you across campus to grab your schedule and check out the new students filling the cafeteria. The buzz of excited chatter and the aroma of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you scanned the room. After a few moments, you parted ways, each heading to your respective classrooms, the anticipation of a new semester buzzing in the atmosphere.

You wandered through the literature building, searching for classroom LE4, the place where Advanced Literature with Professor Beron awaited. Memories of your first year with him being an absolute ass lingered, so you hoped he'd calmed down over the summer, giving everyone a fucking break.

You finally entered the huge lecture hall and climbed the stairs, opting for a seat at the back, hoping to fly under the radar in case Professor Beron was in a bad mood.

A few rows down, you spotted your ex, Ilias, with a new girl on his lap. His sleazy smile and wandering hands were more icky than anything ever. Reflecting on why you ever went back to him so many times, you turned around, focused on bringing out your notebook and computer from your bag. As the doors opened, the click-clack of quality shoes echoed through the hall, accompanied by girly giggles and voices creating a murmur in the background.

A jolt of surprise froze you, and your heart seemed to pause for a moment as his voice unexpectedly filled the room. All your previous movement ceased, and a sudden hush fell over the surroundings, creating an atmosphere charged with unexpected tension. The shock of hearing someone you hoped thought to see again made time momentarily stand still.

“Hello. I'm Professor Eris, and I'll be taking over this class. My father used to teach it but has passed away, so I'll be filling his shoes. I anticipate a productive year together. If you doubt your ability to keep up with the rapid pace of this advanced class, I suggest you leave now and spare yourself, as well as me, the trouble.”

Panicking, your eyes scanned the room for any possible escape route. There was just no fucking way you could be in this class when your professor had fucked you against his bookshelf, or when you had his dick shoved down your throat. Sinking in your seat, you desperately opened your computer, using it as a shield, praying he wouldn't notice you. The need to escape intensified, but the fear of drawing attention kept you frozen in your seat.

As dread crept in, he pulled out an attendance list. The sinking feeling deepened as he insisted everyone state why they chose the course. Hiding behind your computer, you debated revealing your presence or attempting to stay under the radar.

"Ilias Smith?"

"Emma Wilson?"

"Jess Lennox?"

"Amanda Gomez?"

Each one confidently declared "here" and delved into passionate remarks about Hemingway, Austen, Kerouac, all the authors that made them choose this course or whatever. Your hands started sweating as Professor Eris called your name. When you hesitated, he repeated it louder, his gaze scanning until it locked onto you.

Anticipating an intense reaction, all you saw was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Well? Are you here, Y/N L/N?”

You mumbled a faint "yeah," and when he asked why you were there, your words fumbled, “Uh, I suppose because I like books. A huge fan. Yes.”

Your classmates chuckled at your less-than-impressive answers, and you sunk back into your chair, just observing for the rest of the lecture. A few rows ahead, a group of girls giggled, thinking they were discreet as they whispered about Professor Eris. Their discussions about their fantasies sparked a tiny irritation within you.

Like who the hell gossips about someone, so crudely in broad daylight and during a lecture, especially when it's about a professor? It wasn't jealousy, no, no definitely not.

You just found it… super unsettling.

——

After two suffocating hours, you hastily packed your bag, eager to escape. But just as you were about to disappear, your name echoed in the room.

“Miss L/N, do you mind staying behind? There seems to be a problem with your email,” Professor Eris announced, leaning against his desk with his massive arms crossed. He bid the remaining students goodbye and waited until they all left before locking the doors.

The moment those doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The tension became so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

He turned back around and approached you, merely a few inches away, face a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Hello there, little liar. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”

Your cheeks heated and nervousness filled you at the memory of the depraved moments you'd shared, causing your gaze to involuntarily drop to his chest and wander downward, reliving those sensations.

However any nervousness vanished as you remembered that he was the one who came to your university. If anyone should’ve been surprised it should’ve been you. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you toyed with the idea of making his year more challenging. Testing how good of a man he really was became a tempting game.

After all, a man like him wouldn't indulge a student, right?

This could turn into a fun little project to spice up an otherwise dull year.

Lifting your chin up, you looked him square in the eyes as your lips twitched in anticipation.

“I could say the same, Professor Eris. You definitely don’t seem like the lecturer type.”

His eyes narrowed at you, jaw clenching as his intense gaze bore into yours. The intensity made you shift a little, almost causing you to lose some of your confidence.

“Do you think you're funny? I believe you understand the situation here. You lied and now you're here of all places. As my student. Well, this is an unexpected twist. One of us will have to quit and report this,” he stated, injecting a hint of playfulness into his serious tone.

Wait, quit? No, you really didn't want him to leave. This could turn into such a nice little distraction, and there was no way you were losing it now. The thought of him leaving added a layer of urgency to the situation, making you quickly reassess the potential consequences.

“Come on, professor. It doesn't have to be like this. I won't tell anyone. And who says we have to stay away from each other? I mean, what the dean doesn't know won't hurt him, right?” you suggested, a sly smile playing on your lips as you flirted with the idea of bending the rules.

Eris looked you up and down before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. Your brows furrowed as you twisted your lips, wondering if he was laughing at you. Was he not taking you seriously? Despite the uncertainty, the desire to keep playing this game with him intensified.

Eris seemed to notice your mood turning sour and promptly clamped his lips shut.

“I promise, sweet thing, I'm not laughing at you. I’m just amazed at your boldness.” he assured you with a more serious tone, attempting to dispel any misunderstanding.

“Promise?”

He stepped forward, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You both knew that under no circumstances should you be doing this. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. Expulsion and blacklisting from any other Ivy League universities for you, and definitely prison or some sort of pesky law thingy for him.

Yet the mere thought of engaging in something so wrong and secretive made your stomach flip, a mix of thrill and anxiety churning within you.

Looking up through your lashes, you blushed, a deep crimson hue spreading across your cheeks as you once again grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.

“I promise I won't tell anyone, professor. It'll be our little secret,”you whispered, the words laden with a taboo excitement that sent a shiver down your spine.

A wicked gleam flashed in Eris's eyes, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Well then, miss L/N,”he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's see just how well we can keep our little secret.”

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 6 months

Text

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 16

Part 1 Part 15

Steve doesn’t know Eddie well enough to be able to tell if the way he’s bouncing is excitement or nerves. Either way, he’d all but bolted up to sprint to the phone hanging from the wall in the kitchen. It’s an ugly beige and has one of those chords that you can twirl around and around your fingers as you talk.

Steve and Will stand a few paces back, watching as Eddie picks up the phone, and presses it so hard into his ear that he’ll be able to hear the ocean out of it.

Eddie’s bouncing on his toes, but as the seconds tick by, he slows, then stops, heels planted to the ground. He hangs up the phone, hangs his head, planting his palms on the countertop like he needs its support to stay upright.

“He must be at work,” Eddie says.

Steve inches forward, laying his hand on Eddie’s shoulder and squeezing. The other boy takes a shuddering breath, before turning around, shrugging out of Steve’s hold.

“Do you want to try your parents?” he asks, looking Steve’s way.

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing the words out. “Nah, they’re out of town.” He waves his hand breezily, like he couldn’t care less about his empty house. His absent parents. “Maybe we should try Will’s Mom again?”

Eddie’s eyes look sad and soulful, wet like Bambi’s. But he doesn’t say anything, just turns toward Will who’s still dawdling by the refrigerator. “We should try your Mom again,” he says. “But didn’t you say the Demogorgon came?”

Will wilts, the smile blooming on his face dropping before it’s even fully formed. “I think the phone got fried anyway.”

Steve’s not jealous of a pre-teen. Especially one trapped in a hell dimension being hunted by monsters. That’d be too fucked up to comprehend. “Dude, she loves you,” Steve says. “She definitely bought a new phone within like, thirty seconds.”

Will Byers beams, clearly a Momma’s boy through and through. Steve Harrington is not jealous, really. He’s not.

“How long ago did you talk to your Mom?” Eddie asks.

Will scuffs his already scuffed shoes against the carpet. “This morning, I think,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came, and I was running away when you found me.”

He says “found me” like Steve and Eddie are the best thing to ever happen to him. It runs through Steve like an electroshock, sends his skin buzzing in a way he can’t tell whether it’s invigorating or frying him from the inside out.

“Okay, so we should wait a little bit,” Eddie says, walking back and forth in front of them like a general to his soldiers. “Chill on our laurels, get some sleep, and come at this thing fresh eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow when the risk of Demogorgon sighting has gone down.”

Will bounces on his toes, once, twice, three times before seeming to catch himself. Oh, god. There are two of them. Steve may not survive long enough to meet Byers’ Mom, and it won’t be from a Demogorgon attack. It’ll be from two over-enthusiastic nerds.

Steve sighs. “What’re we going to do until then?” Steve asks. “It can’t be bedtime yet, just look at the sun.”

The twin looks of condescension he gets for that one are identical enough that he has to dig his teeth into the laugh that wants to burst out.

But then they look at each other, and it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore. Because Eddie’s smiling like the grinch right before he robbed all the who’s down in Whoville, and Will’s puppy-dog eyes could be charged as a lethal weapon.

“We could play D&D?” Will asks.

Steve groans slapping his hands over his face and rubbing them down harshly, even though the game is sort of fun. Even though it might be more fun with three people. Even though he was sold the moment that Will Byers looked at him with those eyes.

“Fine!” he says, throwing up his hands. “Let’s play your stupid nerd game.”

They gather around the coffee table, Eddie and Will leaning against the couch, Steve an island all on his own on the other side.

“Will, do you DM or should I?” Eddie asks, like the title is something grand to be bestowed upon someone. Like Will just got named Prom King and he’s asking if he wants the crown on his head.

“Maybe you can this time?” he asks, looking up at Eddie through his fringe.

Eddie nods. Steve settles his elbow on the table, sinking his cheek into his palm as the implications of “this time” run through his head.

“What’s your race?” Will asks, eyes glued to Steve.

Steve lifts his brow, shifting his gaze to where Eddie’s cringing away from Will. “We’ve, uh, sort of been playing with training wheels on?” he says, like it’s a question.

“Class?” Will asks, looking horrified. “Stats?” Eddie grimaces. Will sighs, turning back to Steve. “Do you have a character?”

“Sir Steven.”

“He’s definitely a human fighter,” Eddie mumbles, fidgeting with his rings like he’d committed some horrible sin.

“Okay, well, you’re supposed to roll the dice when you create a character so that you know how your character will react to things. Does that make sense?”

Steve nods even though it doesn’t, ignoring the way Eddie scoffs. Will fishes a little bag out of the pocket of his vest, dumping a pile of black dice. Steve recognizes the one with the twenty sides, but there’s a square one, a triangle one, and one shaped like a diamond he’s never seen before. He kind of wants to put them in his mouth, maybe swallow them.

Steve rolls a die for each stat, nodding along like it all makes sense. Eddie runs into his room for paper and a pencil, dutifully writing each number down.

When he passes the paper to Steve, he doesn’t know whether he should be insulted by the number for intelligence or flattered that Munson apparently thinks he’s charismatic. He keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to drop his score any lower.

Steve nods along while they discuss modifiers and alignments, but something of his confusion must show because Will and Eddie dial it back.

Will’s character is some sort of wizard who can cast spells and shit. He talks about his figurine, which Steve deduces is a little action figure like he saw in Munson’s room specific for his character, and the costume his Mom made for him to play, expression faraway.

They play. It’s more complicated this time, and when it becomes clear that Steve is struggling, Will scoots to the other side of the table to help point out which of the dice he should roll and what math he should be doing.

It’s fun, and they kick Xanthar’s ass, even if Steve’s pretty sure Eddie takes it easy on them. He tells himself it’s for Will’s sake, but the glimmer of humor in Eddie’s eyes makes it hard to hold onto that sentiment.

Will’s jaw-cracking yawn as they go over the story (campaign?) signals the end of the night. The poor kid’s eyes are drooping.

“Alright, bedtime for all the kiddies!” Eddie says, jumping up far too energetically for the end of the day they’ve had. “That means you, Harrington.”

The bed’s not big enough for all three of them, and Eddie’s bedroom doesn’t have enough floor space, so they huddle together in the living room. Will takes the couch after a thorough browbeating, huddled under two blankets and what must be Uncle Wayne’s pillow.

Steve and Eddie move the coffee table so they can sleep beside the couch, keeping their bodies between Will and the door. They make a nest of Eddie’s bedding and pillows.

Will’s breathing evens out quickly, poor kid. Steve stares at the ceiling. The silence drills into him until he can almost feel it, making him tense and tense until Eddie scoots close enough that their arms are touching.

The single point of contact seeps warmth into Steve’s bones. He closes his eyes, reveling in it.

“Should we really be wandering around with a child when there’s a monster running around?” Eddie asks, his breath whispering against the shell of Steve’s ear.

With his eyes closed, it’s easy to picture that thing, the Demogorgon. The way it’s claws curved, the way its face opens, and then opens again. The sound it makes. So, no. Steve doesn’t want that thing anywhere near the kid, but—

But.

“We’ve got to get him home, Munson.”

Eddie sighs, breath tickling the flyaways along Steve’s hairline. “Yeah,” he replies. “I guess we do.”

Steve falls asleep before Eddie moves back away, that single point of warmth following him into his dreams.

Part 17

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 8 months

Text

LVRS Club**

IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Warnings: Descriptions of threesome (ffm), BDSM scene (fdom, msub), overstimulation, post-orgasm torture, forced orgasms, choking, impact play, light pain kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), dom x sub dynamics

WC: 25K - Alt. starting points: If you want skip to when they see each other just scroll down the break indicated by blue asterisks to start from Harry's POV. Or start reading at the break indicated by pink asterisks to start from Y/N's POV. Read at the break indicated by orange asterisks to start with when they meet:) HAPPY READING!

“So where are we really going?” Y/N asked Nina, her best friend and roommate.

“It’s a surprise. I already told you.” Nina hummed.

“I hate surprises, Nina. You know this.” She said.

“If I tell you, you might back out and I can’t risk that.” Nina explained.

“That’s worrisome…you know that I like to be well prepared f-”

“Yeah, you little control freak.” She grinned and Y/N sighed.

“What if I promise not to freak out or back out.”

“Unlikely.”

“See that’s worrisome again.” Y/N sighed and Nina turned to her.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, but you need to commit to attending if I tell you.” She looked at Nina with a bit of hesitation. But her curiosity and need to know were far greater than her hesitation. This way she’d at least know what to prepare for.

“Fine.” She said and Nina grinned.

“Alright, we’re taking you to a sex club.” She said and Y/N chuckled and when she saw Nina’s face her features arched up in shock.

“Wait, you’re serious?” She asked and Nina nodded with a nervous grin. “I can’t, Nina.” Y/N said and she sighed.

“You committed!” Nina pointed at her and she sighed.

“But a sex club? How is that going to help me?!” She questioned.

“I don’t know? Maybe just push you out of your comfort zone. You don’t have to have sex, it’s just a different thing.” She said and Y/N sighed.

“I hate you guys…so fucking much.” She giggled and Nina grinned.

*********

“Should I wear the red lipstick?” Y/N questioned as she looked through her limited lipstick options.

“I would say no because if you end up kissing someone, at the very least, you’re gonna be all smeared!” Nina said and Y/N didn’t intend on making out with anyone but red did tend to be messy.

“Ughhh…you’re right. Even if I don’t, like it gets on the glasses and sometimes I forget I have it on…I won’t look too plain without it?” She frowned at her reflection and Nina scoffed. “Y/N, babe, you’re so fucking cute! You’re gorgeous and smart and successful! You don’t need to pile on all this extra shit to attract someone just wear what makes you feel confident.” Nina assured with an encouraging smile. Y/N tended to side with the “clean girl aesthetic” when it came to makeup. She generally avoided having to use too much and spend even more money on replacing makeup at quick intervals.

“OK, but say you’re a guy and you saw me looking like this-”

“Again, we’re not doing this to get you laid,” Nina emphasized, “But if there is a man tonight who thinks that you as you are is not to die for then they aren’t worth your time. And look, the focus of the night is just to help you loosen up a bit. I know you say you’re fine but babe, you’re more stressed than I have ever seen you! You’ve gone through three wine bottles and made, and devoured, three batches of chocolate strawberries in the past week and I hate to break it to you, but that is not self-care.” Nina said pointedly and Y/N groaned.

“Nina…”

“Girl, I see it all. I don’t want to make you feel like shit about it, but I think if you just step out of your comfort zone and let loose for a little it’ll make you feel better. Try not to worry too much tonight. Just clear your mind of all of the stress and surrender to the adventures of the night. I want you to give this a fair shot, OK?” She smiled and Y/N chuckled.

“Fine. Fine.” She promised, “Now, what do I even wear?” She asked with a sigh and Nina grinned.

“It’s cocktail attire so I know just the dress!” Nina said rushing out of Y/N’s bathroom where they were both getting ready and Y/N trailed after her enthusiastic roommate as she moseyed on into her closet, “Remember you just bought a bunch of different dresses for your office’s holiday parties?” She asked as she started going through the rack.

“What about this one?” Y/N said pulling one out and showing Nina with a small smile and Nina just looked at her with a look that said ‘really bitch?’ and Y/N laughed, “What?”

“That looks like the dress you wore to my great aunt’s funeral.” Nina said plainly and Y/N frowned.

“I mean, it is, but I also wear it to work events and parties. It’s elegant and classic and not too-”

“Babe, you have to hear what you’re telling me.” Nina cackled and Y/N shook her head.

“It flatters my figure! And my cleavage looks really good!” Y/N defended her choice and Nina smiled.

“Yeah, I know. But there was one that you had liked because it looked like a D&G dress but you said it was too short or something…” Nina said as she continued looking through the options, “I just remember that when you tried it on I was shook. Like to my core. I hope you didn’t return it.” Nina said as she continued sifting through the hangers and then squealed, “Oh! It’s this one!” She said pulling out a black velvet minidress. It had a floral pattern which made it look a little vintage, rock star girlfriend-core to the max; it was very pretty and it looked great on her, but she couldn’t even sit down comfortably- her ass was literally on whatever seat she sat on from how short it was as she recalled.

“Oh my god, no! It was way too short.” Y/N argued.

“Easy access.” Nina said with a wink and Y/N laughed.

“Good god…”

“Look, it looks great on you and you can wear it with a leather jacket, get some loose-beach-y waves in your hair, a very light smoky eye and some nice clean eye liner and you’ll look like an effortless and sensual goddess.” Nina said.

“I mean…”

“It’d be like Y/N but from college!” Nina urged and Y/N giggled.

“God…I did dress really hot in college…” she said and Nina grinned with a nod, “Fine…for old time’s sake.” Y/N agreed and Nina once again squealed and soon they went back to getting dolled up before they were to change.

It was around 8:30pm when Y/N and Nina were sliding into their Uber and getting ready to head off to this club. It was called LVRS Club and when Y/N realized that Nina had just entered that as their destination she grew so embarrassed.

“You couldn’t have at least put a business nearby or something? Now he’s gonna know we’re going to a sex club.” She whispered to Nina who just giggled.

“And to think those two shots you took before heading out were supposed to help calm your nerves.”

Y/N was nervous as could be. She had never done anything like this and from what Nina had been explaining to her, LVRS was a rather prestigious and high end place. Eli was only able to get them in because one of his good friends is a member - apparently he’d be meeting them there. As Y/N listened on to what Nina was saying about the rules and rumors she had heard Y/N was just overthinking this entire thing, as she did many things that were not necessarily in her wheelhouse. What if she ran into someone she knew? Or worse yet, what if someone she knew from work was there too? What if the advances were too intense and it made her uncomfortable? There were so many what-ifs it was making her stomach turn.

“-so apparently we’re going to be able to be in the member’s section of the club. I’m assuming it’s more private and only the cream of the crop hang out there. What if we run into a celebrity?” She giggled excitedly and Y/N sighed.

“I doubt it.”

“Hey, I think it’s very likely. Apparently Gwenyth is really into this scene.” Nina informed and Y/N sniggered as Nina started going on about wanting to know if this starting while she was with Chris Martin or post Chris Martin.

*******

“We’ll need to see your ID, have it ready. If you have a bag or purse with you please be prepared to have it searched.” A burly man right at the entrance spoke to the few people that were waiting in line to get in. Y/N felt comforted that they took precautions like this. Eli was texting his friend, Anton, to let him know they were waiting to get in and Anton assured he’d meet them by the cover fee counter. Soon Anton was with them and Amit was showing the receipt for the pre-paid cover charge and they were being scanned in and given a wrist band allowing them access to the members only area as Anton shared they were his guests, he greeted each of them enthusiastically before guiding them to the entrance. From this lobby Y/N could hear the music slightly and they were buzzed in, kind of like a marijuana dispensary - which might scare some but it made her feel like the club owners wanted to be certain that no crazies just wandered in for the safety and integrity of their members.

Y/N wasn’t sure what to expect when she walked in but when she made it past the threshold of the cherry red door it certainly wasn’t what she walked in to, which was literally a normal looking bar/club but nicer. The decor was beautiful and classy, heavily modeling after art-deco in its interior architecture and design. Furthermore, it was opulent and tasteful. It was already hosting a good amount of people as well from all demographics it seemed. She was a bit distracted with looking around until she felt a hand snake into her own and she glanced up to see Amit pulling her towards a set of stairs.

“This way, YN.” He smiled and she nodded and followed him up the staircase towards the VIP section.

Once again, a security guard clad in an all black suit was at the top to greet them and asking to see their wristbands or membership cards. Anton was quick to show his card and the rest of them their black, plastic wristbands before he removed the black velvet rope from hindering their path. Anton was greeted by a server asking about their table as Y/N looked around again. There was another bar up here and a couple people sitting at the high chairs around it. The Member/VIP area overlooked the entire bottom level, sort of like a balcony. And there were little seating areas lining the walls, a few of them were taken - you could either choose a little booth or couches with a little table in between, they had reserved one of the lounge looking areas with the couches. She was grateful for that, it would be easier to slip out if needed. They got comfortable and soon a server came by to get their drink orders.

“Just a glass of the Malbec.” Y/N said with a kind smile and the lady nodded.

She was still looking around in disbelief that at any moment any one of these people could decide to just wander to the back of the club and hook up with whatever consenting parter they wanted, or maybe even go alone. She was tense, she could feel it in her jaw and rigid posture. She could feel eyes on her, but she stuck to just looking down at her perfectly manicured nails or between her friends as they all laughed and talked, evidently a lot more relaxed than she was.

“Your wine, miss.” the young girl said and Y/N looked up with a smile and mumbled a thank you.

“Can you get me another? I’m just gonna down this one real quick.” She said with slight embarrassment and the girl giggled.

“Sure thing. First time?” She asked and Y/N nodded.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. You can hang out here and if anyone gives you trouble just let one of us know. We want you to feel comfortable and safe.” She assured and Y/N exhaled and nodded.

“Thank you…?”

“Britney.” She said and Y/N nodded.

“Britney, thank you.”

“You got it, girl. I’ll be back with your Malbec in a few minutes.” She assured and hurried off to the next group over. She looked down at her glass and exhaled quickly before quickly downing the glass, she didn’t even get to savor it, but she needed the liquid courage.

********

Harry didn’t frequently come to these kinds of places. His visits had been few but he remembers just how nervous he was to be seen or dragged into something he wasn’t certain of much like the girl across the VIP area that had caught his eye. He smiled in endearment as he watched her let out a big exhale before chugging her glass of red. He wondered what wine she was drinking as he took a slow and easy sip of his Malbec. Letting it sit on his tongue to really enjoy the flavor of the bouquet before swallowing it down as he glanced over to her again.

He chugged alcohol his first time too. Well, he had about four or five tequila shots and was hiding behind his friends most of the night. Sure he’d peek out and flirt with people occasionally, but he didn’t even kiss someone that first time, he was too drunk to go through with anything. His second time he did end up pulling a woman who was a bit older than him, he was just 21 at the time, but she just sucked him off in a dark corner and he ended up fingering her but chickened out when she asked to fuck. His third time he decided that he would just watch the debauchery - the things he had seen would sometimes come to the front of his mind and make him blush. It was something he didn’t know would impact him the way it had, especially when people took note of who was watching what they were doing. Harry wasn’t one to namedrop himself or use his fame for anything, but he was well aware of the weight it carried and he must admit, it did turn him on to see people get their brains fucked out but choose to hold eye contact with him through the large windows set into the voyeuristic rooms instead of their partner’s. He saw a lot and in the end he did end up hooking up with someone, he remembers him well and he smiled as the memory came back to him for a brief moment - that was one of the first times he had given in to his cravings for a man and for trying bondage and well, there was no going back after that time. Around his sixth or seventh visit is when he got in on some group sex and that was liberating. He must admit that he had micro dosed on some drugs because he didn’t want his nerves to hold him back from trying what he wanted to try and it helped. Now he felt comfortable and confident in this setting, unlike his pretty, little friend across the way.

“Someone’s caught your eye?” His friend Marco asked him lowly and Harry nodded as he turned his attention to his friend.

“I think it’s her first time.” He said and Marco hummed in agreement as he took note of the girl across the room, she looked tense and out of place a bit.

“Well then you ought to leave her alone.” Marco chuckled and Harry tutted as he furrowed his brows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked and Marco gave him a look, “What?” Harry questioned and Marco shook his head.

“H, you know very well what. You’re insatiable and intense and it’s her first time.” Marco said pointedly.

“I can be nice.” Harry said, “Maybe I’ll just flirt with her a little, get her number, we don’t have to do anything.” He said to his friend before glancing back to her. She was gorgeous and she looked like a good, wholesome girl, he would be lying to himself if he denied having a deep, twisted need to completely ruin her, but he had self control. He was a grown ass man, he could play it cool.

“Look, I just don’t want you to regret it and feel bad about it tomorrow, OK? I know you’re a good guy but you’re also kind of an animal when you come here.” He said lowly and Harry rolled his eyes and had another sip of his wine.

Marco was right of course. Harry lived a very strict and regimented life. He thrived on predictability and routine in his personal life because his job was chaotic and intense and at times unpredictable. Places like these were great because there was a no phones policy, all devices had to be off , he’d seen a few people get kicked out for it once, which meant that with every interaction he had, he could just be himself 100% - not the media curated sweetheart he had trained extensively to be. Sure, he was still elusive about his private life, but he could flirt and make advances freely without feeling self-conscious. He could turn people away and in the same way gawk at others. He could drink as much as he wanted and dance and just be a real fucking person without anyone around here judging him. Sure, there were plenty of eyes on him as soon as he’d descend into the more crowded areas, but it was different. He didn’t ever fuck in the voyeuristic rooms, private rooms only because that was something he wanted to keep for himself, but he must admit that he was very intense and people still followed even if they weren’t the ones he was honed in on. Sure, they couldn’t see, but when he’d get done he’d see the group of people rush away from the door as they had been listening in on him and whoever he’d fucked. During his last few visits he had been around almost all night and he’d worn out a partner or two and he wasn’t done either, so yeah, maybe he needed to take it down several levels if he decided to go talk to this girl. Again, he wasn’t ashamed or concerned for being seen at this kind of place anymore, but he still slinked back against the darker corner booth where he and his friends were, like a predator on the hunt, he didn’t want to be seen until he was ready for his intended target to see him.

*********

Y/N had been able to relax after downing that first glass of wine. She wanted to slow down from here on out because she didn’t want a hang over, so she was now savoring her second glass as she started to feel the effects of the alcohol buzzing through her veins. The club was louder now as more people had come in and the downstairs area was busier with dancing bodies and the amount of people that were smushed into corners and walls as they made out and dry humped each other was impressive. Eli, Amit, and Nina had gone down to dance and Anton agreed to stay with her and continue people watching from the rails.

“So why’d they drag you out here?” He asked with a chuckled and she sighed and smiled.

“I’ve had a rough couple weeks at work. I’ve just been really stressed and tense and they said I need to let loose and get out of my comfort zone.” She explained and Anton nodded.

“I see. Are you interested in hooking up with someone?” He asked and she bit her lip and shrugged.

“I don’t…know. Probably not.” She giggled timidly, “Are you?”

“Yeah, was kind of hoping to see someone I had run into a few weeks ago but I can’t seem to find them yet.” He said and she nodded in understanding.

“You didn’t exchange numbers or something?”

“No, it keeps it exciting.” He grinned, “I figure if fate wants you to meet someone you will.” He said with a hopeful smile.

“That’s… that’s really beautiful. I really like that.” She nodded with a grin before taking another sip from her glass. Hearing Anton say that really shifted her headspace, she didn’t want to be sulking on the sidelines of life like she typically was. She was slave to her routine and she liked that, it was comfortable and easy, it allowed her to be great at her job when she didn’t have to think so much about everything else but it was starting to take a toll, admittedly so. She didn’t want to close herself off from opportunities and experiences; she still didn’t intend to hookup with anyone, but she would definitely allow herself to have some fun.

“Excuse me-” they heard and both turned around to see a gorgeous and tall man behind them. Y/N’s eyes went a bit wide for a moment as she allowed herself to look him over the same way that he was looking her over and then Anton, “Are you two together?” He asked and Anton smiled as he draped a hand around her lower back when he felt Y/N tense up beside him.

********

Harry’s grip tightened on his glass when he saw someone approach the girl he wanted and the man with her. He stood from his seat and went over to the rail where it was better lit and maybe she would finally figure out who had been staring at her almost all night. He wasn’t sure if the man with her was her partner, they had been sitting beside each other before and as they talked now he was close and almost covering her with his body and even now as they chatted with this handsome stranger his hand looped around her lower back and his fingers landed on her hips. She leaned in to his touch and it made him jealous.

*********

“Excuse me, are you two together?” The gorgeous man before them asked.

“No, we’re not.” Anton smiled kindly at the stranger.

“Oh, OK. Well ummm either way, would you be interested in a threesome?” The man asked blatantly and Y/N’s eyebrows rose which made the man smile and Anton laugh lightly as she scooted further into his side.

“I-I’m alright thank you.” She squeaked out.

“OK, no worries.” The man chuckled and then looked to Anton.

“I wouldn’t mind finding a third. Let’s dance first, yeah?” Anton asked and the man nodded, “Let me just go finish my drink real quick.” He said and hurried off to their area leaving Y/N and this mystery man alone together.

“You’re very beautiful, you know? Been looking at you since you came in.” The man said to Y/N and she blushed hard as she looked down to her feet.

“Ummm…I…th-thanks.” She hummed timidly as she looked back into his eyes.

“Lots of people have been looking at you. I think it’s the whole coy and naive act you’ve got going on.” He flirted and she giggled.

“Oh man, I wish it was an act.” She said back and decide that flirting with him wouldn’t cause any harm, “Can I tell you a secret?” She asked and he nodded and she grabbed his forearm and tiptoed to reach his ear better despite the fact that she was wearing platform heels, “It’s my first time at one of these and I have no clue that I’m doing.” She admitted and he pulled back with a grin.

“Well, happy first time.” He said and she giggled, “It can be scary and intimidating your first time but you’ll discover that everyone here is nice and respectful, I’ve never had a bad experience.” He said and she nodded as she listened, “It also kind of helps to remember that deep down everyone is a bit nervous. Nervous about how they look, if people will reject them, if people will want to do more with them, but just enjoy the company we’re all here because well, sex is part of who we are, it’s an innate need we all have - to be with each other and to love and to show that physically - it’s not even that deep, like being in love or intimate, it’s loving in terms of appreciating humans and what we’re capable of.” He explained his rationale and she nodded, “Just feel it out, make some friends, get drunk, dance!” He said and she giggled, “Just have fun.”

“Thank you, that’s good advice.” Y/N said and he nodded.

“Of course.” He said with a grin and just like she’d been feeling all night, there were still eyes on her as she chatted with this man, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Max, it’s nice to meet you.” He said extending a hand and she shook it.

“Ready?” Anton asked Max as he came back, smirking at Y/N, he saw her flirting and decided to finish off his drink in slow motion.

“Yeah, let’s get down there.” Max said.

“Do you want to come dance?” Anton asked Y/N and she bit her lip and looked between him and Max for a moment.

“In a minute, I want to finish this off.” She said and they smiled and nodded before hurrying down.

***********

She stood there for a few more minutes, she was trying to find her friends but there were so many people that she couldn’t spot them any longer. Still, she could feel people watching her, eating her up with their eyes, even some of the people downstairs were glancing up at her and smiling at her, blowing her kisses, taking her in. She could feel her heart pounding in excitement at this level of attention, she was never confident being the center of attention, but this felt different. People were devouring the illusion they had of her, they didn’t know her but they were taking what they saw at face value and conjuring up whatever fantasies they had in their mind with her and that didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would.

Y/N found herself getting a bit nervous again and she looked up from the lower level and across the room, her gaze finally fixing itself at the other end of the VIP area. Standing there, leaning against the rails just like her was another tall, handsome man whose eyes were fixed on her already and soon they were making eye contact and she felt even more nervous than before. This man wasn’t a stranger though, that was Harry Styles and he was looking right at her. She recognized him immediately without any doubt. She could feel her heart pounding hard and the butterflies in her stomach were multiplying at an exaggerated rate making her feel a little sick as the lump in her throat bobbed as his eyes stayed on hers. His gaze was intense and it was hard for her to maintain the facade of confidence under his scrutiny so she just offered a polite smile before turning around quickly and heading back to her seat.

Once her eyes left his she finally felt like she could breathe. What she would give to pull out her phone and play sudoku or solitaire right now to avoid the embarrassment of what just happened - she was so awkward! She wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole not leaving any evidence of her existence whatsoever. Despite living in LA for the last seven years of her life she had never ever encountered a celebrity and seeing one at a sex club, well that was really something. She put her wine glass down on the little table before her and reached for her little purse. She felt around inside for her lip gloss since she suddenly felt that her mouth and lips had gone completely dry. She finished applying it and was just twisting the cap back on when she saw a pair of dark boots stop beside her from her peripheral vision. She cursed mentally at her nerves and she decided to pretend that she was too focused on the lip gloss to see that anyone had come up to her. Then she heard him clear his throat and she swears her brain stopped sending the signals for her to breathe as she turned her attention to him, their eyes met once more and he offered a friendly smile to her.

“Hi, I’m Harry.” He introduced himself casually, his voice deep, rich, and smooth as honey. He seemed so confident and comfortable. The energy wafting about him was remarkable and intense.

He was maybe a foot or so away and even from there she could smell hints of his cologne, it wasn’t overpowering, but it was sweet and spicy, and it seemed to match his vibe very well. He was wearing a simple suit that was fitted to perfection. It accentuated his big, broad shoulders and it tapered down to showcase just how slim he was. In true Harry Styles fashion, she top he was wearing under his jacket was exposing part of his toned and hair smattered chest. His hair was kind of parted to the side, letting the longer hair towards the front of his head curl and fall perfectly across his forehead. He was slightly stubbly but it didn’t make him look unkempt, if anything it really added to the masculine structure of his face. He was absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” She responded.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He greeted, extending a hand and she immediately stood for him and took his hand, shaking it firmly.

“You too.” She said and he smiled again.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming over, just saw you got left alone and I know how nerve-wracking your first time can be so I thought I’d come over and say hello, make it less awkward?” He finished in a bit of a question and they both laughed softly.

“Is it that obvious?” She asked lowly as she cast her vision to the ground between their feet and he smiled at her, completely endeared by her demure and cautious manner.

“Just a little bit.” He said with a playful grin and she giggled before looking back up into his eyes.

“D-do you want to sit?” She asked him.

“Only if I’m not imposing.”

“You’re not at all.” She assured and he smiled as he came closer as she sat down and she thought that he would take a spot across from her, but instead he planted himself right beside her. They were facing each other and his right knee was almost touching her left knee and he fixed his suit jacket a bit before raising his own wine glass towards hers.

“Well, cheers to your first time.” He said and she smiled.

“Cheers.” She said clinking the glass gently, eyes transfixed on where the crystal glasses met.

“Nuh-uh, we need a do-over of that. Superstition says that not making eye contact during a cheers results in seven years of bad sex and I don’t know about you, but I am not willing to take any chances.” He said and she chuckled.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know!” She laughed as she made sure to keep eye contact and then went in for another clink; correctly this time.

“Much better.” He hummed before they both took a drink, “You must be a really good friend to come here with everyone else.” He said and she grinned.

“I mean, I would like to think I am a great friend, but ummm my friends they ummm, they came here for me. Or at least it was supposed to be for me to “let loose” and “get out of my head for a bit” but uh, I don’t know… I’m not usually the shy person so it’s weird for me to feel so timid… I guess I’m just so out of my element?” She explained and he nodded along as he listened.

“Well, I usually am the shy person and I mean, here it’s nice because no one can film me or take pictures of me, so I can put myself out there without so much pressure and at first I was really timid about it all but I’ve always had fun here and people are nicer than you think.” He said and she nodded.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that.” She smiled at him, “Do you ummm, come here a lot?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Not really, maybe once a year, twice if I’m feeling really risqué.” He chuckled and she giggled along.

“You don’t have to answer, but have you…hooked up here?” She asked nervously and he smirked at her with a playful yet incredulous look in his eyes.

“I think you already know the answer to that, Y/N.” He stated with a chuckle and she glanced down into her glass with a bashful smile, giving it a swirl to aerate the wine.

“Well I don’t want to assume, you know…” she explained with a little shrug and he grinned.

“I appreciate that.” He replied, “But I guess I’m just as depraved as the rest of this bunch.” He joked and she laughed softly.

“No, it’s not depraved.” she said immediately, “This guy came to ask my friend and I if we were interested in him earlier-”

“Yeah, I saw that.” He said and that made her wonder how long he had been looking at her but she continued on with her story.

“Well, he told me that humans have an innate need to just be with each other to show our appreciation and love for each other physically, he’s not wrong about that. So I think that as depraved as this might seem to some, it’s actually quite…human and beautiful.” She shrugged at him.

“Yeah, he was definitely onto something with that.” Harry smiled at her, “And what about you? How do feel about all of this?” He gestured around him with his free hand.

“Well, nervous for sure.” She said and he nodded, “But then my other friend told me that if fate wants you to meet someone you will so I’ve decided to just… keep an open mind.” She decided with a shrug, her eyes once again had diverted away from his as she looked around the room and he really liked the fact that he made her a bit nervous, but he also didn’t want her attention to wander. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to show her that fate wanted her to meet him.

“That’s actually very wise and well it’s also very brave of you to decide to be open minded about something like this.” He encouraged her and she smiled.

“Thank you.” She responded before taking another sip of her wine.

“It’s the truth and well, I am very pleased that fate had you sitting across from me tonight. I think she really wanted us to meet.” He flirted and she giggled nervously.

“Did she now?” She asked and he smiled down into his wine glass, he was playing coy and she knew it, but his dimple was so cute when he smiled like that. Harry was a mix of effortless and confident, delicate and masculine, boyish and seasoned - all of these things mixed together was what made him so alluring. Anyone with eyes and a brain would agree that when he was feeling himself like this, the man was undeniably irresistible.

“Definitely.” He reaffirmed, “You know, I wasn’t even going to come tonight.” He shared and she hummed in interest, “Yeah, I was feeling rather lazy and antisocial. My friends were just really in a mood to come out and I guess I didn’t want to be the stick in the mud, you know?”

“Yeah, totally get that.” She agreed, “Well, I am gad you came out.” She smiled at him before looking away as soon as their eyes met and he chuckled.

“Don’t avoid looking at me.” He chuckled, “Or am I making you feel that nervous?” He asked carefully and she felt her heart rate accelerating at his direct question before fighting her best to look at him and maintain eye contact.

“I guess you are making me nervous a bit.”

“Why?” He asked genuinely, “You can totally tell me to bugger off if you’re uncomfortable or just want to be alone, I won’t be offended.” He assured her, his expression was one of slight concern, but he tried to keep a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I think I would actually like to be alone for a bit.” She responded as her eyes met his and he was immediately disappointed. She watched as his smile faltered a bit but he nodded and moved to stand up, “Wait, wait, I’m kidding!” She said quickly, her hand reached for his forearm and squeezed a bit when she saw how quickly he was about to leave and he sighed and proceeded to laugh nervously.

“You’re mean.” He laughed away the tension and disappointment he felt as she giggled, “Felt so bad thinking I was making you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. It was an ill-timed joke.” She apologized, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad and I don’t feel uncomfortable in the slightest.” She reassured, maintaining eye contact so that he knew that she was being truthful.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She nodded and removed her hand from his forearm.

“If you do at any point please let me know, OK?”

“Yeah, I will.” She assured him, “I just…I am really nervous to be here. Like I said before. I know it’s not that serious but I’m just worried that someone will try and persuade me to hook up or something and I won’t be able to say no. Like, I swear I’ve moved past that in other areas of my life, but this is a new situation and I feel like I would feel really bad rejecting someone.”

“Well, you saw just now how I was ready to leave you alone in a moment if you wanted that. Everyone in here will be like that, Y/N. If you’re going around being a creep and a nuisance they will kick you out. Besides, it’s not like there aren’t hundreds of other options for those that are looking for a hookup if they get rejected.” He explained and she nodded.

“Right. That’s true.” She said and he nodded, “You didn’t initially want to come out tonight, but ummm now that you’re here what do you…plan to do with your evening?” She asked tactfully.

“I’m not all that sure, we’ll see where the night takes me.” He said simply and she nodded, “So you were dragged here to let loose, what is causing you to feel so wound up? If you don’t mind me asking.” He added in quickly.

“Just work. It’s been intense for the last month or so. I’m now in an administrative position and have people working under me and I know that I’m good at what I do. I know that I’m capable and smart and driven-” she explained and he nodded, “But ummm…you know sometimes all your energy and time goes towards one thing and it just drains you.” She said and he nodded, fully understanding what she was saying, “It’s a lot of responsibility and well, sometimes you don’t always feel worthy of that, I guess?”

“Mmmm, imposter syndrome.” He hummed and she nodded.

“Exactly!” She exclaimed and then sighed.

“I know how you feel, as you know I’m well…me.” He said and then sucked in a breath as he cringed, “That came out-ughhh…I can’t believe I just said that.” He chuckled with embarrassment and she laughed softly.

“No, it’s OK!” She giggled, “I know what you meant, I know you aren’t like… flaunting your fame or whatever. I can’t imagine that it’s easy at any point. What you do and have to deal with.” She talked him down from his embarrassment and he nodded, feeling a little less flustered.

“Yeah. And you know sometimes I wake up and think “why me?” Like who am I to be so lucky to live out my childhood dreams, like I don’t feel like I’m deserving. And there are other times when I think who am I to be so unlucky that I have to deal with everything else that comes along with it… it was harder before, when I was younger, to sort of make peace with those questions and feelings. But ummm, it gets easier and well, from what you’re telling me you know you can do it. You know that you’re good at what you do and I think that’s the best way to go about it. Yeah, there will always be highs and lows, but believing in yourself is a huge part of being able to get out of those dark places. I mean from what I’ve heard about your friends they also know that you’re something special and want to help you get out of that rough patch you’re going through.” He said with an encouraging smile and she nodded as she looked into his eyes, “And well, it never really hurts to come to a place like this and get a little ego boost. It’s nice to be reminded that you’re appealing, helps to know that other people see it in you too and maybe that’s what they wanted to do by bringing you here tonight?” He suggested and she smirked as she looked up at him.

“Is that why you come here? An ego boost?” She teased and he laughed softly and shrugged his shoulders.

“Sometimes, yes.” He admitted with a grin, “I am kind of an attention-seeker, can’t lie about that. And well, I know most of the people I end up meeting here are just in it because well, it’s Harry Styles, but ehhh, I know who I am and what I’m worth, they can have their fun and it’s not like I wouldn’t be getting anything out of it either.” He reasoned as she hummed with a grin.

“What’s that like though? Like…are you just like… out in the open?” She asked and he chuckled and shook his head. He then explained that while there were rooms with windows for those voyeuristic folk, there were a variety of private spaces as well. He was so easy about it all and it made her feel a lot better, “You know what? I like you.” She stated as her eyes flickered between his own and he chuckled and now he was the one looking away bashfully for the first time, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.” She concluded and he widened his legs just a smidge more so that his knee brushed up against hers and she looked down quickly.

“I appreciate that.” He said quickly, to play off his little move to create an opportunity to touch her in some capacity, to escalate things and feel things out. He wanted her to know that he was very interested in her and he knew that he might not be doing anything physical with her tonight, but he at least wanted to get her number.

“Hey guys,” Britney came up with a smile, “Another glass of the Malbec?” She asked Y/N since she was maybe 2 or 3 sips away from being finished and considering they were drinking the same thing Harry thought Britney was talking to him.

“I’m good, thanks Britney.” She said and Harry also offered a smile at her saying, “It’s alright, I’m still working on this one.” They spoke at the same time and Britney shook her head for a second.

“Oh my god, sorry I didn’t get any of that.” She giggled considering it was quite loud inside.

“Are we drinking the same thing?” He asked Y/N and she giggled and nodded.

“I guess so.” She laughed.

“You’re good though?” He asked and she nodded as he turned to Britney, “We’re good for now, thank you.” He said and she smiled and nodded and when Harry had turned back towards Y/N, Britney did not skip out on the chance to shoot her a quick wink before hurrying off to the other patrons up there. There was something nagging her in the back of her brain and despite her inner self telling her that Harry would judge her, she knew logically that he wasn’t that kind of person, so she decided to raise her question, “What is it?” He asked with a small smile and she bit her lip nervously for a moment, not missing how he focused in on the nervous habit and licked over his own lips before focusing back on her eyes.

“Y-you said there were rooms w-with windows in some places?” She asked, voice a bit loud so that he could hear over the music, he nodded, “D-does this place have some rooms like that?” She inquired and he nodded his confirmation, “Oh. OK.” She replied and proceeded to just chug the remnants of her wine. She would need it if she were going to venture down at some point and have a look.

Harry observed as she tensed a bit after asking her question and then chugged her wine to ease up a bit. She still seemed on edge, it was normal, but the curiosity of what really goes on down there was getting the best of her and it was turning him on a bit. She was absolutely gorgeous and even if they didn’t do anything, he knew that he wanted to go down with her and show her what everyone else was doing down there. He wanted to make sure that she’d never forget about it or him in passing, he knew he would definitely never forget her and even have a wank over her later, undoubtedly. He was so into her and he loved the idea of being the first person to show her all of the depraved things that went on in places like this. He wanted her to think about him doing those things to her, or at least he hoped she would. He would at least offer to take her down there to see and if she said no then he’d go off and find someone else to sink his teeth into for the night; he had nothing to lose.

“If you’re curious we can go see what’s going on down there tonight?” He offered and she rolled her lips together as she weighed out her options. She was starting to feel so nervous again, but that kind of nervous that is building up right before you’re about to jump out of an airplane. It’s that feeling where a part of you is wanting to pussy out, even though you know you’re not going to because you kind of can’t anymore. You just need to build up that last inkling of courage to just do it. To jump.

“Ummm, yeah, let’s go see.” She finally said looking into his eyes, her eyes nervously darting from one to the other.

“You sure?” He asked with a playful grin and she nodded.

“Yes, otherwise I’m just gonna continue imagining these…insane things…like I am now. And I just need to dispel the idea that it’s scary down there.” She said and reached for her glass of wine again and then frowned when she saw it was empty.

“Want mine?” He offered up his glass.

“Are you done?” She asked and he held up his finger and drank another swig before handing it over to her and she quickly knocked back the rest of it and rolled her shoulders back before setting it down and looking over to him as she swallowed the mouthful. It made his mind imagine an obscene thing. Harry then smiled lightly as he saw a droplet of wine run down her chin, barely clinging on. He reached forward and swiped his thumb over it to clean it off.

“Spilled a bit.” He hummed before flickering his eyes up hers as he removed his hand.

“Thanks.” She responded quietly and he smiled at her before he stood. As soon as Y/N stood up Harry had a look around as she adjusted her dress, she was certainly the best option here tonight and that was evident in the way that a number of people took her in and then looked to him before sighing and going back to their drinks or their people watching and other conversations. He couldn’t help the victorious and cocky smirk that twitched his lip up to the left as he saw everyone else’s reactions.

“Ready?” He asked and she glanced up to him and smiled before she exhaled and nodded.

“Ready.” She confirmed with a nod.

“Alright.” He smiled and reached over the little couch she was on to grab her jacket and she smiled at his kind gesture.

Y/N followed close behind him to the side of the room he had been sitting on. He nodded to his friends as they passed them, not bothering to interrupt as they were also in the middle of some conversation with what she assumes were potentials. She politely smiled as she walked past them as well, given that they had initiated eye contact with her. Upon reaching yet another security guard posted at a door Harry just showed his card, she assumes, and the man opened up the door for them. She hurried in when Harry signaled for her to go first. They both mumbled a thank you to the man before they made their way down dimly lit hall. The carpet beneath their feet was hot pink or red. But there were suggestive Rorschach style paintings lining the hallway which she was briefly taking in as she approached the end of it. They could still hear the music from the club portion playing in here, just muffled down, she assumed there was a lot of soundproofing here.

“So up here it’s just single rooms.” He explained as he came up behind her. Everything was also arranged in a circle with a railing in the center that allowed you to look downstairs, “You can look over.” He encouraged and she stepped out and looked left to right, seeing the walls lined with doors. It looked like the doors with a green light were the open ones. She got to the railing and Harry came up beside her as she looked down.

“Oh my god.” She said quietly as she saw in the center a lounge area with those huge couches and it was littered in people who were talking, making out, watching… They heard a faint ding and Y/N glanced to her left to see the elevator door open and two women scurried out into the nearest open room. “Can we go down there?” She asked and he nodded. She was less nervous and more curious now about how everything worked and so he started leading them towards the elevator and soon they were back on the ground level. She was even more in shock when she got down there and had a better view of everything. There was a bar to their left, tucked under the second floor balcony. The people on the big couches were really going for it, working themselves up for more. She saw a neon sign hanging over the entrance of a broader hallway at the opposite end of the room they’d just entered, “Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here” is what it say and she turned to Harry who chuckled and then dipped down to reach her ear better.

“I mean that’s a bit dramatic but in a way you’re never really gonna be the same after you see everything going on in there.” He explained before pulling back just a bit and she looked to him a bit nervously, “We don’t have to go in.” He said to her and she looked from him back to the sign as she pondered the options before her.

Maybe this was exactly the kind of thing she needed to shock her out of her weird mental state but also, her dry spell. As attractive as Harry was, she was positive that he was just being nice to her, he didn’t seem to be putting any moves on her. Yes, he was a complete flirt, but he seemed to err on the side of caution, which was nice, but a part of her started to wonder what he would be up to now if he hadn’t wandered over to her tonight. She was into him and she knew that when she got home she would certainly pull out her trusty toy and play with herself to the memory of his voice and the smell of his cologne, and his big hands and intense eyes. It would help to hear him explain things to her or encourage her to look at something or describe any smutty thing they saw. So yeah, maybe physically he wouldn’t end her dry spell, but he would certainly help with her pushing past it. She swallowed thickly and blinked up at him.

“I think I do want to go see.” She said to him and he just held her eye contact for a few more seconds and she nodded again, reaffirming her decision and he licked over his lips.

“Alright, just grab my hand, want people to know we’re together. Don’t want them bugging you or me.” He said to her and she nodded, slipping her hand into his as he offered it up and he proceeded to guide them over.

“These two first rooms at the entrance of the hall, they’re the orgy rooms.” He explained and she tensed a bit upon hearing that as they neared the opening of the hallway. It was a long hallway. The closer they got the more prominent the sounds of people fucking permeated the air, “These have curtains instead of doors so anyone can go in at any time. But of course, gotta ask for permission before you join in.” He said and she bit on her lip and nodded in understanding, “Wanna see?” He asked, stopping by one of the curtains and she glanced up to him with a nervous smile.

“No, that’s alright, I can hear plenty. I’m sure I can visualize what’s…going on.” She giggled nervously.

“You’d think. But ummm…yeah, the things you see in group sex are…things you can’t even imagine...” He said to her with a slight furrow in his brow and her eye brows raised in surprise.

“D-do you like doing that?” She asked and he shrugged.

“I’ve done it before, but I’m not exactly jumping at the opportunity to do it again. I’d really have to be in the mood for it I think.” He explained and she nodded.

“What was it like?” She asked. The soundtrack to their conversation was now the sex sounds coming from the orgy just a few feet away from them.

“Well…being me…the time I did that I quickly became the center of attention. Which was nice to some extent.” He recounted, “But it was a lot. Very overwhelming fir sure.” He chuckled and she nodded in understanding, “It was fun, but exhausting. I also had some things to do the day after and I was dead and sore and…yeah, just bad timing I think.” He explained with his eyes a bit narrowed at the memory.

“I can imagine.” She chuckled and he nodded.

“C’mon.” He said and led them down the hallway until they reached an intersection. To the left there was a sign for bathrooms and a mostly desolate hallway. But the room that Harry was pulling them towards was one with windows. There were several people lined up around the room watching whatever was going on in there, she couldn’t see yet as Harry was before her. Harry tiptoed a bit to see over the people crowded around and then turned to her, “It’s a threesome, two girls, one guy.” He informed her, “Do you want to see?” He asked her and she felt a bit embarrassed in admitting it, but she nodded. He smirked and she rolled her eyes, “None of that, I was just gonna say good, because from the glimpse I caught it looked good.” He chuckled and she sighed and he turned back and pulled her into the crowd. The moment people realized it was him, they started moving to the sides on their own to let him get up near the window. She did feel a bunch of eyes on her as he pulled her along and then he made a space between his body and the window looking into the room and she scooted in as his body encased her between him and the large window.

Y/N wasn’t going to lie, it was mesmerizing to watch these very real people pleasuring each other. Currently one girl was getting fucked from behind while she ate the other girl out. She was intently watching everything going on and the sounds they were making. And from the corner of her eye she saw some movement and glanced over to see a man rubbing over the evident bulge in his trousers. She quickly reverted her attention to the scene before her and dug her fingers into her purse. Harry’s body wasn’t directly pressed into hers, but she could feel his warmth and his chest would slightly touch her back when he’d take a deep breath. She let her eyes glance down to his hands resting on the ledge of the window frame. She bit her lip and felt herself start to get wet when he suddenly tightened up his fists and she quickly glanced up to see what had affected him so much and it was that the man now had his large hand around the neck of the girl he was fucking. Y/N wasn’t a stranger to choking, she had only had it done to her once before and she had a phenomenal orgasm from the floaty feeling resulting from the slight breath play and she now looked back at Harry’s hands and she could picture them wrapped around her throat as he pounded her into a mattress.

“I think they’re a couple, the other girl’s leaving.” He pointed out quietly and she glanced up from his hand and focused back on the couple inside as the other girl slipped out and someone immediately went up to her and she rushed off with them. After the third was gone a large portion of the viewers left, but she was just stuck there, watching as this man turned over the reaming woman and sunk back into her in the missionary position, still gripping around her neck as he railed her so hard that her eyes were pinching shut as she cried out in ecstasy.

“Fuck.” She whispered subconsciously and Harry smiled, but didn’t respond. He wondered what about what this couple was doing elicited that reaction from her. He wished he could hear her thoughts. Harry was growing hard, he was trying to keep it at bay, but he couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to push Y/N’s hips back so that he could grind against her ass while they watched this couple fuck. He wanted to slip his hands under that short dress she was wearing and feel at her knickers, he wondered if she was already wet. The way she suddenly shifted the weight of her body from one leg to the other silently confirmed that for him. Y/N’s breathing picked up as the girl started to finish and then she turned around just to be right up against Harry, who smirked down at her.

“I think the point was to watch them come.” He chuckled as he maintained eye contact with her. She glanced down at the chain of his necklace peeking out from his shirt with a timid smile.

“They’re so into each other it seemed a rather intimate moment to me.” She shrugged and Harry hummed.

“Well, should we keep looking around?” He asked and she looked back into his eyes and nodded. He extended his hand to her and she took it and smiled up at him. The warmth of his hand overtook her own, and it was so much bigger than hers. Her hands were on the smaller side, so she felt protected in a way.

As Harry guided her further down the hall she started to feel more at ease about this. She knew that he would take good care of her and in turn she was slightly expelling her own inhibitions and trusting him a bit more. She wouldn’t question it when he would pull her in another direction and see other things around them. In all honesty she was quite impressed at how brave people were. Just putting themselves out there like that, not caring who was watching them in such vulnerable and often compromising positions. She could never be that brave. Y/N had never really explored the bounds of her sexuality too much; she’d never experimented or dabbled in any kink or anything that was more than the basic vanilla stuff. Just that one time a few years back when a guy got a bit rough with her towards the end there and choked her - that was definitely the best sex of her life, she thinks.

“Have you ever done anything like that?” He asked Y/N as his chest brushed against her back and she shook her head in response.

She watched the restrained man getting his cock sucked while he writhed around in what she could only imagine was frustration and overstimulation. He was very clearly having an orgasm, but his partner wasn't slowing down or stopping, it made her nervous for the stranger.

“Have you?” She asked him as she glanced up at him and he smirked. She just needed to look away for a moment because the scene was just too much…the sounds the man was making and the way it looked like he was trying to get away, it made her feel strange and for her heart to pound.

“Perhaps.” He said cooly and she giggled, reading between the lines.

“On which end?” She questioned and he smirked.

“S’not that important is it?” He responded meekly and she smiled because for once he seemed to be the one that was a little bit bashful.

“Alright…keep your secrets.” She hummed playfully and then turned back to watch some more and she felt him chuckle behind her.

As much as she was nervous for this stranger, she just couldn’t look away for too long. Realistically, Y/N knew that when it came to stuff like this there were safeguards in place to make sure that no one got hurt or was pushed beyond their limits. But it was curious to her why as much as this person was clearly struggling, they didn’t say anything to stop their partner from continuing what seemed to be pure torture at this point. She bit her lip in anxiety, but she couldn’t stop watching him just take it all. The man writhed and cried out and groaned and shouted in frustration as his partner continued sucking his cock. His legs were quite literally trembling as he fought to keep his composure.

She felt her insides turning because she knew if that were her she would’ve tapped out the moment something wasn’t pleasurable for her. She wasn’t averse to a bit of pain, like hair pulling, a few smacks to the ass, bruising hickeys, even the feeling of having to ride a bigger cock was a slightly uncomfortable feeling that she rather enjoyed, but this seemed…excessive. She gasped quietly when the man just let out a loud and tortured shout and his parter pulled away and started stroking his cock fervently, encouraging him to show people how much he could come, until he was shooting ropes and ropes of come onto the dark floor. The dominant partner laughed at him as he came undone; Y/N wasn’t sure if it was in pride or in a degrading manner, but the blurriness of the intent made a tingle shoot down her spine. The man tossed his head back with a satisfied smile as his chest rose and fell quickly as he mumbled his gratitude to his dominant partner.

That made her feel conflicted in a way. Wasn’t the point of sex to come? She didn’t feel that it was a reward or something to be earned, but viewing it in that capacity excited her to some extent. She shifted her feet a bit and then froze for a second when she realized that she had nearly soaked through her underwear. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed before, but she had been completely entrance in the scene before her. And now she was hyper aware of the way her clit was throbbing with need and how her skin was rising at attention.

Harry watched carefully as Y/N pressed her thighs together and he smiled knowingly. BDSM could look rather terrifying, even he was a bit apprehensive the first time he dipped his toe in that pool, but much like Y/N had just discovered, something about it was just incredibly alluring. Especially for people like him and like Y/N - they were control freaks, they had a hand in everything in their lives, and surrendering or relinquishing control was never an option and it was absolutely exhausting to always be so in control. The more he looked into it what ended up hooking him in was the egalitarianism of it all. Yes, the dominant partner had the reigns, but the submissive partner controlled the direction of it all - they were both equally in control. In his sexual experiences he’d been able to try being both, dominant and submissive, and he soon discovered that he had a taste for both. He was a switch through and through and right now, as he watched Y/N squirming in her spot as the dominant praised their submissive for being good and coming so much for her, he could see the goosebumps littering her arms and he wanted so badly to show her what she was missing. Harry hesitated for a moment before he let his hand run down her bare arm and she tensed for a second in surprise at his touch before she glanced back at him with a moony gaze.

“You alright?” He asked softly as he brought his face a bit closer to hers.

“I ummm…Yeah.” She finally said, “I’ve just ummm…I’ve never seen something like that before.” She said as she fully turned towards him.

“And how are you feeling?” He asked her as flatly as possible, because he knew that she was turned on, but he didn’t know if it was anything she wanted to act upon just yet or at all.

“Ummm…Confused?” She said to him, “But also…it was…” she bit her lip as she thought of the right word.

“Hot?” He asked with a small smile and she smiled timidly.

“Yeah…it was pretty hot.” She confirmed with a small smile and the look in his eyes was playful and dark.

“Did you like it?”

“I…I think so.” She said breathlessly because it felt like suddenly no one else was around them. He smiled at her and reached for her hand.

“You think so?” He asked again teasingly as he started to pull her away as the scene was ending. Others immediately took their place. She followed him as he pulled her further down the hall and she smiled at him.

“Yeah. Why are you being weird?” She asked with a playful smile and he smirked.

“I’m not being weird, you’re being weird.” He said.

“Am not.” She giggled and he smirked at her knowingly.

“Did you imagine yourself as the dominant or the submissive?” He asked more quietly and she looked away timidly. “It’s not wrong to get turned on by that.” He said to her and she glanced up into his eyes.

“I know that.” She smiled, “I’m just…confused by what about that was a turn on for me?” She said inquisitively.

“Well do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

“Can we talk over a drink?” She asked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, ummm, there’s a another VIP lounge at the back, there’s a bar there too if you want to go there?” He asked.

“Ummm, yeah. Let’s do that.” She agreed and he smiled at her and handed his hand to her before leading them down the hall. They got up to a counter and he showed them his card again and the security guard moved out of the entry way. There were just a handful of people in there, a pair of them were kissing. They sat on a loveseat against the back corner and almost immediately a waiter showed up. Y/N told Harry to pick what they’d drink and he just ordered them salty dogs with tequila though. They were getting settled in a bit before he started to question her.

“So…what about BDSM confuses you?” He asked with a smile, getting right to it and she laughed softly.

“Ummm…it was just like when the guy was getting his cock sucked…oh, thank you.” She giggled softly as the waiter placed her drink before her and Harry laughed at the small embarrassment she was subject to at the waiter’s timing.

“Thanks, mate.” He said as well before the guy slipped away, “You were saying?”

“Right, ummm…Oh! So I’m more confused about how I felt about what was going on. Like…if I were in that guy’s position I wouldn’t enjoy someone else watching me like that, but I…enjoyed watching that happen to…to him. Like it made me want to try.” She said and then reached for her drink and gulped a bit down. “I never thought I would like…watching.” She said and he smiled.

“Yeah, honestly it’s quite exhilarating for me too. Maybe because we’re empaths it’s easy to picture ourselves in that position?” He suggested and she smiled.

“Maybe so…” she hummed and they both had a drink as a few seconds of silence fell between them. Once Y/N cleared her mouth she spoke up, “So when you were watching that happen did you picture yourself as the dom or the sub?” She asked him the same question he’d asked her earlier.

“You first.” He said and she grinned, “It’s only fair.” He said and she rolled her eyes.

“Alright…” she sighed and took another drink before just smiling at him and shrugging timidly, “I mean…” she giggled and he grinned, waiting for her to say it, which made butterflies erupt in her tummy.

“I need to hear you say it.” He said through a small laugh and she sighed.

“I pictured myself as the sub, OK? I just have been in a dry spell apart from everything else I’ve got going on and it would be nice to be the receiver of anything for a bit.” She said, “And now you.” She insisted and he smiled at her.

“Tonight I pictured myself as the dom.”

“So you also sub?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” He said and she bit her lip and then glanced away with a grin, “What’s that about?” He asked in amusement.

“I just…pictured that and like…that’s an interesting picture.” She said simply, “I feel like you need to be in control.” She said and he nodded.

“Well yeah. I love control, I need control more often than not…but sometimes I don’t want to need it. And when I don’t want to need control…when I want to surrender…I switch.” He said with a small smile. “Being in control all the time can be exhausting.” He said and she smiled.

“Don’t I know it. But it’s also so nice…”

“That it is…and you know, that’s the cool thing about BDSM, both people are in control the whole time. It’s a sharing of the control, a perfect balance of giving and taking.” He elaborated, “Whichever part you get to play, they’re equally gratifying.” He explained to her and she thought about it for a moment.

“But like the submissive…why don’t they just…use the safe word if obviously it’s putting them through a lot? Like that guy we saw, clearly he was struggling.” She pointed out and he hummed.

“It could be for a lot of reasons…like for me a lot of it is more of a competition with myself and seeing if I can go further. I know I can handle it and that I’m strong and disciplined so I like to push my own limits. And again, within a scene your dom is also ensuring you’re not pushing yourself too far, so even then I have the chance to push my boundaries and try different things safely. And other times I and others just enjoy…pretending that we have no choice but to just let these things happen to us because we’re tied up or whatever. And that can be really liberating as well, especially if you’re under a lot pressure. It could be why you enjoyed watching that happen to someone else.” He said and she literally felt her skin prick as she revisited the feeling she got when she heard this person screaming but still not saying the safe word, “Like obviously they’re enjoying it, but I think when you get to that point it’s more than a sexual gratification thing, you’re just letting everything that’s been pent up out. I think that’s why also in this case the sub was thanking the dom at the end. It wan’t just gratitude for his orgasms but for…setting him free in a way.” He explained.

Y/N took in everything that Harry said and was now completely in her head as she concluded that yes, she did envy that guy for a second there. She wanted to feel free of her stresses and worries, she wanted to be able to let out all of the pent up frustrations she knew were just festering inside of her and making her feel stuck. She couldn’t even count the times that she just wanted to sit in her car after work and just scream it out. There had been too many of those days lately, days where she felt like she was drowning. And then she started picturing how she would want to be set up in a scene and now she was getting even more wet.

“…And then sometimes a sub might just be a bit of a masochist and enjoys being hurt and tortured in a controlled environment.” He said with a light laugh and she grinned as he finished his explanation, “Does that clear things up?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, actually.” She hummed.

“And well there are safe words and all, but those should be used for like emergency situations. They’re not a thing we use when we don’t particularly like something or want to change directions. That’s part of the dom’s job, to know and gauge their sub’s condition. It’s a very…trusting and intimate relationship and it does take time to build it to that level. And like at the beginning stages it’s just tons of communication until you know each other well enough that you don’t need to tell someone to stop or go. Your dom will eventually know what makes you tick, what things you like and don’t like, what you’re open to trying, and what things are completely off limits. So if something is not pleasurable you can just say so and they’ll switch it up, but chances are that eventually they’d know you well enough that just from your reactions and body language they’ll be able to tell that something’s not doing it for you and they’d take action before you experienced any real discomfort or stress.” He said. “You wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing and the more and more you trust and get into that space with your dominant it becomes easier and easier to just surrender to them.”

Y/N was covered in goosebumps as Harry spoke. Her eyes were dark and her tummy tickled with swarms of butterflies at the idea of getting to that point with another person. A point where there was so much trust that you could just give your body and autonomy over like that. She wanted to feel like that. She shifted a bit and her leg ran against Harry’s and she swore she somehow felt the tickle from the fabric of his clothes rush up to her clit.

“Sorry.” She apologized and he smiled at her.

“It’s alright. Are you alright?” He asked and she nodded.

“Just…thinking is all.” She said as she squeezed her thighs together a bit and while he originally had no plans to try and do anything with her (he didn’t think she’d even want to in all honesty), now he wanted to lay the charm on thick and see if he could make her come with his fingers at the very least. He wanted anything with her so badly. He took a swig of his drink as he just let himself feel the sexual tension emanating from her body in intense and lustful waves.

“Can I ask you something?” He said lowly as he leaned in a bit closer as he set his drink back down on the little table before them. She hummed in confirmation as his eyes met hers again. “Are you wet?” He asked more quietly and she was completely shocked by how forward he was, but his directness turned her on. She couldn’t even look in his eyes while she answered because she felt almost like she’d been caught in the middle of something naughty.

“Ummm…a bit.” She said bashfully and he sniggered and her eyes met his own upon hearing his laugh.

“A bit?” He asked with a playful look in his eyes and she laughed softly and shrugged, “You’ve been squirming for the 15-20 minutes.” He called her out, “I think you might be more than just a bit wet.” He hummed knowingly and she felt a heat rushing up her face and up to the tip of her ears and she was more than grateful for the dim lighting in this little cave.

“Well if you already knew that why did you ask?” She quipped back and he smirked.

“Just wanted to know if you would be honest with me or not.” He said.

“I’m just…embarrassed a bit.” She confessed.

“Why?”

“Because! Like…I’m just learning all this stuff about myself and it’s kind of embarrassing that I don’t even know what to do with it or like…even know how to go about it.” She expressed. She was too horny, it was blurring her mind, but she was swallowing it down as much as possible because if she wasn’t careful she would start begging him to make her come and well she couldn’t just ask him that…it would be too great of an ask.

“Well…are you wet from what you saw or are you wet for me?” He asked her softly and she swallowed thickly as she literally shivered at his very probing question.

“Both.” She responded and he smiled softly at her. He wasn’t teasing her or anything, he seemed genuinely relieved to hear that response.

“Well, do you want me to…help you with that?” He asked her and in that moment there was nothing she could do to hide the relieved expression on her face. “We don’t have to do it all, at the very least I can do something to make you come. With a twist of course, to see if BDSM is something you’ll want to keep exploring.” He proposed and she truly had never been more relieved that he had asked because she would be too embarrassed to ask him.

“Please.” Was all she could say in response as her desperate eyes bore into his. Her soft and breathy plea made Harry tingle with satisfaction and he couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch in excitement at the prospect of getting to make this perfect angel before him come.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked lowly and she nodded timidly, her eyes were still wide with nerves but he minimized the space between them, “And can I touch you here?” He asked as his hand came around the back of her neck and she nodded. It made her want him more when he asked for permission but continued looking into her eyes, to ensure her that he was fully with her in this moment. He leaned in closer until their breaths were intermingling in the minimal space between their faces. She was glancing up at his eyes as his lips barely brushed against her own. She was growing impatient as his fingers squeezed just a bit, his thumb was running up and down the sensitive skin of her neck and she started leaning in a bit more and he smiled. “Wait.” He stated.

“Why?” She questioned him.

“Just be present for a moment.” He said and she inhaled and exhaled as she tried to relax and he chuckled. “I can basically see the gears turning in your brain.” He chuckled and she smiled at him, “I know it’s hard not to think ahead but just try to think about something happening right now with us.” He advised.

“Like?”

“Mmm… like how it feels to be close like this. Or how your arms are covered in goosebumps, or what my cologne smells like… just find something that will ground you to this moment.” He coached her softly and patiently. Y/N exhaled slowly to find something that she wanted to focus on and as his thumb lightly grazed up and down the side of her neck comfortingly she felt another wave of goosebumps ripple across her skin and when she exhaled at the delicious chill rolling through her body her shoulders dropped, she had no idea she’d even been tensing them like that. “There you go… Good girl.” He spoke lowly, his lips brushed against her own and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his as she practically felt her insides melt at his praise.

“Please kiss me.” She pleaded softly and his lips quirked up to the side, his dimple indenting his cheek beautifully.

“Lesson one. Delayed gratification.” He spoke softly, “I want to kiss you too. So fucking badly, but can’t you feel how much more intense things get the longer I make you wait?” He asked and she nodded, “It’s all about the build up.” He explained, “Edging isn’t just for orgasms.” He said and she bit her lip to satiate her need to feel something against her lips, “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” He asked and she smiled bashfully and let her eyes flutter shut as his nose skimmed along hers, “From the moment I saw you I couldn’t look away for more than a few minutes. I was staring for ages before you even looked at me. I even thought you might not ever notice me.” He confessed softly, “So imagine just how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you.” He said and she literally whined as her eyes met his again, so soft and glossy as they peered into his eyes.

“You’re so much better at this than me.” She giggled before she clenched her jaw to try and keep it together.

“I’ve had some practice. Nothing a little training can’t fix.” He said and she smiled as she felt her vaginal muscles contract at the idea of him training her for him. Shaping her into the kind of submissive he liked, helping her discover that side of herself…

“Please. I can’t handle it anymore.” She said as she leaned closer and then she felt his fingers grip to the base of her hair to hold her still and she froze.

“Is this OK?” He asked and she nodded hazily and then he tightened his grip a bit more before he tugged her back, she could’t help but moan breathily at the slight sting and her eyes fluttered shut as the little pricks of pain along her scalp seemed to radiate down her body until her thighs tensed and her toes curled until the little waves of pain disappeared. Harry was smirking so hard, he couldn’t help it. Her reaction to him pulling at her hair had his entire body buzzing because he just knew that he could give her exactly what she so desperately needed. Without even giving her another moment he closed the space between them and moved his lips against her own. Hers were still slightly parted, so he kissed at her bottom lip first, taking a moment to really make her feel the subtle drag of his tongue against it before their lips attached fully.

It was like second nature as she started to kiss back. She had never felt so aware of what another person could do to her and she was certain that this was something that wouldn’t be so easy to come by again, so she wanted to enjoy it fully. Just in the bit of time she had shared with him, she knew Harry was a force. His energy was steeped in a subtle confidence that staved off any question of him being arrogant about himself. He was so collected and easy to be around it. For a moment she completely forgot that he’s one of the most famous people in the world. She was so mesmerized by him, she was enjoying his teasing kisses and yearning for more moments where he’d just indulge and deepen their kiss; she liked the reminder that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. She wanted more, she was ready.

“C-could we go somewhere else?” She spoke into the kiss and he hummed in agreement as he pulled away from her lips.

“Want to finish your drink?” He asked.

“No, I’m good.” She said and he nodded and raised his hand to get the server’s attention. “We’re done with these. Can you charge them to member tab #57?” Harry asked and the man nodded.

“Of course, sir. Is there anything else I can get for you two?” He asked.

“No, that’s all. Thank you.”

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled to him as well before the man grabbed their glasses from the table and headed off. She did need to use the restroom and she also completely forgot that she had not come alone tonight, so as they stood up she turned to him.

“I need to use the bathroom. And I should probably let my friends know where I am.” She giggled and Harry smiled.

“Right. Well the VIP rooms are like en-suites, so there’s private bathrooms in there. And well, I don’t mind if you pull out your phone to just let them know you’re alive.” He assured her and she smiled.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be shocked to know I even left our seating area.” She laughed “They’re probably fretting over me already.” She joked and he smiled as he started to guide her out.

They went back to the little desk outside of the private bar and he told the attendant that they would be going up to a room and they gave him a keycard before he guided her to the elevator. She felt weird about people knowing that she would be up in a room with Harry Styles…she certainly didn’t plan on telling her friends who she had spent her evening with, she assumed Harry would rather keep those ventures as private as possible, but still someone knew. Actually, several people knew as they had been seen together throughout the last hour or so.

When the elevator stopped at the second floor she immediately saw an ice dispenser and a vending machine before them with snacks and water, but also different kinds of condoms, little lube bottles, wipes, and painkillers. He then pulled her down the hallway and then opened their designated room with the keycard. She could faintly hear others in this section, but it was very minimal despite them actually being loud which gave her some relief. She wasn’t all that loud, she’d always had roommates and had lived in an apartment for the last several years so she had trained herself into being quiet.

Harry opened up the door for her and let her step inside first. She glanced around the room that was brightly lit at the moment and it looked inviting even with the luxurious look of it. The bed wasn’t massive, but that’s because there were other furnishings that took up space. She looked over at the padded picnic table looking thing with some confusion.

“That’s a spanking bench.” Harry said as he shut the door.

“Oh?” She said in understanding, “I see that now.” She chuckled bashfully.

“Yeah.” He smiled, “Ummm, bathroom’s through that door there.” He said to her as he pointed across the room, “Do you like the lights on this bright?” He asked.

“Dimmed is nice, like in the lounge?”

“For sure.” He said and she set her bag down on the bed and hurried into the bathroom. She did start to feel a bit nervous as she was in there. She freshened up a bit, thanking the heavens that there were also some wipes in the bathroom. Despite having showered she was still wiping down just in case. She looked herself over as she washed her hands, satisfied with the way her had held up and when she came out she saw Harry sitting on the bed with his phone in hand. He glanced up and smiled at her kindly.

“I’m also letting my friends know where I am.” He explained as she waited for her phone to power back on.

“Dear god…” she exclaimed through an amused giggle as she saw that she had about five missed calls from Nina. “My friend’s called me five times.” She said with concern and decided to just call back instead of text her; she picked up right away.

“Bitch, where the hell are you? Did you go home without telling us?!” She asked loudly, it didn’t sound like they were in the club anymore. Harry obviously heard her shouting and sniggered quietly as he slipped out of his jacket and draped it over a chair in the corner of the room. Y/N glanced to him with a grin as she sat on the bed and started to unstrap her high heels.

“Geez, don’t yell. I didn’t leave the club. I’m uh-I’m still here-”

“Ahhhh!” Nina started screaming in excitement and Y/N pulled the phone from her ear and laughed softly and Harry just dropped back onto the bed and laughed as well. His body was shaking as he tried to hold in any sounds. His eyes were crinkled, indenting his deep with his smile lines; it was cute they creased deep, it meant he was happy. He was so gorgeous it made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Relax, please. I would’ve come to find you, but you guys got lost in the crowd and I lost track of time.” She explained, “But I’m good, I’m safe.” She assured Nina, “Yes, he’s hot.” She said, “So fucking hot.” She confirmed lowly, glancing to Harry with a smirk only to find he was smirking right back at her, “Nope. Not fucking happening…you get nothing but a thank you for dragging me into this.” Y/N said, keeping her eyes on Harry’s. “I don’t know, so don’t wait up…sorry, it was the “no phones allowed” thing I swear. Alright, be safe. Bye.” She hummed softly and then hung up. “Sorry about that, my friends can be…a bit nosy.” She giggled.

“It’s alright, it seems they really care and look out of you.” He said with a smile and she nodded.

“Yeah, they do.” She confirmed as she finished taking off her other shoe and let it fall to the ground. She then rolled into the spot beside him and rested her face on her arm as she crossed her ankles and leisurely swung her legs back and forth as she just smiled at Harry, “I’m really, really nervous.” She confessed quietly and his eyes softened.

“What’s making you nervous?” He asked.

“That…I’ll…like it too much.” She said with a sigh and he smiled.

“Why would that be a bad thing?” He questioned with a confused little crease in his eyebrows.

“Ummm…I don’t think I’d be brave enough to try it again.” She half-smiled, “Like everything just seemed to work out perfectly tonight. I don’t think that things would coincide so perfectly again.” She explained further and he smiled.

“Tonight has been pretty perfect.” He concurred, “I’ve had a good time with you.”

“Me too.” She said with a blush warming her cheeks.

She still had that innocent, but curios glint in her eyes that was giving him butterflies. To Harry, Y/N felt like a breath of fresh air and boy, did he feel deprived. His gaze trailed down the line of her nose and landed on her lips before fluttering back up to her eyes. She was still looking down at his own mouth and he swallowed thickly as her gaze slowly met his.

“I can’t imagine you not being brave enough to do anything you wanted.” He said and she looked in awe for a moment before she spoke up.

“Harry? I’m going to kiss you now.” She warned, voice soft and nervous.

“Please.” He hummed and she pushed herself up to scoot over and lean over him, her hair messily draped over her and his face, but their lips met eagerly regardless. As Harry pressed himself up, supporting his wight on one of his elbows, his free hand came up to Y/N’s face and started gathering her hair, the occasional strand tickling them as her hair was drawn back.

Y/N slotted one of her legs between his own, entangling them further. Once her hair was out of the way, Harry’s hand traveled down to her waist and started pushing her back and she got the hint and rolled onto her back and he hovered over her with a smile.

“Can I get your dress off?” He asked and she nodded. He helped her sit up and then she stood up and turned away from him, moving her hair to the side as he went for the zipper. “Thanks. Ummm…is there anything that you know you wouldn’t want to try right off the bat?” He asked and she bit her lip.

“I ummm…I don’t know. I’ve had pretty vanilla experiences” She said and he hummed.

“That’s alright.” He assured, “What about…” he paused as her dress just dropped to the ground, he was momentarily distracted by the sight of her perfectly round bum. It would look that much cuter with a couple hickeys or marks from his hands across it, he swallowed thickly “Ummm, what about things you absolutely know you want to experience?” He asked and she turned around and his hands landed on her hips over the side straps of her thong.

“A little breath play I got…choked once and I did like it.” She admitted bashfully, “…always wondered what was so great about getting my ass spanked…” she joked and Harry chuckled, “I joke, but ummm, not really.” She confessed nervously and he suddenly landed a smack to her left cheek and he grinned as the skin on her arms pimpled with goosebumps and she let out a surprised little gasp.

“How was that for you?” He asked.

“Ummm…it was good.” She swallowed thickly.

“Want more?” He asked and she nodded, “Want to try on the bench?” He asked and she glanced over to it before biting her lip pensively. “We don’t have to.” He assured her and she looked back at him.

“I am…curious about it.” She said and he stood as well and led her over to it.

“This is nice because it gives you something to hold on to.” He explained, “Like if you wanted to dig your fingers into something or squeeze your thighs, you could. This one also has these rings on it.” He said as he lifted one up and turned to her and she nodded, “These are for restraining. So you could get your hands cuffed or even have a collar attached to this-”

“Like an animal collar?” She asked with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“Ummm, yeah, but like it’s for people. Some people like that.”

“Do you like that?” She asked and he bit his lip and shrugged, which was enough of an answer for her and she giggled, “You’re wild.” She said with a smirk and he giggled along with her.

“I just like to try things. I like to push myself and see how far I can go or how much I can handle. I often surprise myself and like that makes me feel…stronger in a way. Like I can do anything, you know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” She agreed and then bit her lip as she looked over the bench once more and decided that she wanted to push herself too. She wanted to try something different and new. She could just picture herself fastened to the bench and gasping at the shock of the blows she’d receive and it made her spine tingle. That had to mean she was into it, right? She placed her hand on the red padded pleather cushion where she assumed her chest would go and glanced up to Harry, “So like…how do we do this? Like are you just gonna do it with your hands?” She asked him.

“We can if that’s how you want it. There’s also toys for impact play right in here.” He said cocking his head over to a little closet looking door and she followed him and he opened it up and she was quite surprised at the selection she saw.

“Will it hurt?” She asked him with wide eyes.

“It can if you want it to hurt. We can test the feeling and force on your palm.” He suggested and she nodded, “Do any of them look more intriguing to you?” He asked and she pointed at the riding crop.

“That’s just one I’ve heard of more.” She said and he pulled it from the hook.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say this is for your bum. It can be, but you’ll get harsher and more intense stings from it.” He explained and she held her hand out and he quickly smacked it down and her eyebrows raised in shock as the sting made her palm feel hot as the pain started to register and she closed her palm quickly and glanced up at him.

“OK, yeah maybe not that one.” She giggled nervously and he smiled.

“Yeah, that’s alright. It’s a bit more of an advanced one to be honest or for those who particularly like pain from the get go. Don’t like that kind of pain too much either.” He assured her and she nodded, “The paddles tend to be a bit better for the bum. It’ll still sting but not as intensely since it covers more surface area.” He explained as he pulled it down as she put her hand out again and he brought it down and gave her a whack before looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction, she seemed fine with that. He swore he even saw a ghost of a smile threatening to spread across her lips and the fact that this once excited her made his eyes darken in excitement for what he could do for her, “Harder?” He asked her softly and when her eyes met his, they were also darkened and her pupils dilated a bit. She nodded up at him and he smiled with tenderness at her as he raised the paddle again and then swung it down with more force and while her hand twitched bit from the impact, she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip for a few seconds before smiling. “Like this one?” He asked her.

“Yeah, I do like that.” She agreed before looking back up into his eyes.

“Good.” He hummed, “Is there anything else you see that you might want to try?” He asked and she glanced back at the array of toys in there. “There’s also stuff in the drawers.” He explained and she stepped forward and started pulling them open to see what they contained.

They had a myriad of options from blindfolds, ties, cuffs, and collars to clamps and pumps and vibrators. She at least knew that she needed stimulation to her clit in order to have the most gratifying orgasm, so she definitely wanted a vibrator of some sort. She didn’t need the huge wands that were in some drawers, even something smaller would do it for her. So she reached in and grabbed one of the sterile packets that had a vibrator with a slightly bulbous head, it could be used externally and internally as well and it made her core tighten and tickle in anticipation.

“I’m assuming we have to pay for this stuff?” She said.

“Well, they get put on our tabs.” He explained, “The money’s already there for this so…” he trailed off and she glanced back at him.

“But I might want to keep this so I’ll pay you back.” She said and he chuckled.

“You don’t have to pay me back, you can keep it as a gift. You know, to remember our time together.” He said with a cheeky smirk and she chuckled softly before looking up at him.

“We’ll see.” She said softly.

“Do you want to try any restraints?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Ummm, what do you recommend?” She asked as she looked at the different options.

“To start either the satin ties or full wrist cuffs. Anything less bulky will leave more marks and they can be a bit more uncomfortable.” He explained.

“Maybe the ties…can’t risk showing up to work with visible marks, as hot as that would be.” sh e giggled and he grinned, with that in mind he decided he’d give her a discrete mark or two for her personal amusement.

“Right…” he chuckled as he reached for a set of the satin ties.

“Do you think there’s anything I might like?” She asked and he glanced around before opening up the drawers and he bit his lip as he reached in and grabbed one of the smaller pumps.

“If we get this on your clit…” he said a bit bashfully, “for a few minutes you’ll be a lot more sensitive there. S’gonna make you come a lot if you’re already sensitive. Wanna give it a try?” He asked and she smiled at him, her eyes told him that she was clearly enticed by the idea and she nodded after a few seconds.

“Sure.” She agreed cooly, “I thought you were gonna go for the blindfold for a sec.” She giggled.

“Do you want a blindfold?” He asked her with a grin and she shook her head.

“No.” She she said quickly, “I ummm… I’d like to see what’s going on.” She explained and he smiled.

“Well, I think this is it for now.” He said as he moved to the bed and set everything in his hands down and she followed him and did the same before looking up at him and he glanced at her, “Still nervous?” He asked and she nodded and he smiled, “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll take good care of you.” He assured as he came a bit closer and her gaze flickered down to his lips and she tiptoed to kiss him but he slightly knocked his head back and grinned down at her. “Mmmm, how about…for every spanking you take well, you get a kiss?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, OK.” She agreed and he smiled and guided her over to the bench and helped her get on. “Are you gonna tie me up?”

“Yeah, is that alright?” He asked and she nodded.

“Yes. Please.” She said and he smirked at her before walking over to the bed and taking off his shirt before grabbing the ties and standing before her again. His crotch was level with her face as he got the little packet they were in open and she could see how the bulge in his pants strained against the dark fabric. Her eyes raked down his strong and lean torso and she felt her mouth water at the size of the bulge and he glanced down with a smirk before lowering himself down to be level with her face.

“Like what you see?” He asked and Y/N smiled bashfully from being caught ogling him.

“Yeah.” She hummed and then glanced down when she felt him tying her wrists together. Then he tied that to the ring attached to the bench. Harry had her yank a few times just so she could feel if it was comfortable or if he needed to make any adjustments. It was perfect though; her wrists were secured together snugly, but she had enough slack from her hands to the o-ring to be able to move her arms a bit. She was so nervous about it all, there were so many thoughts going through her mind as she realized that she was quite literally stuck here with him. And as scary as that thought was, it was also somewhat relieving. She had no idea what he had planned for her, she had little ideas of where the night could go, but who knew what was in his brain when he took her in like this. She didn’t know if she’d ever even see him again after this night, but she just knew she could trust him for tonight. Trust that he had her best interest in mind and that he was going to blow her fucking mind.

“Alright, love. M’gonna start off light and then go a bit harder until you tell me, OK?” He asked. “We can even go back if you feel it’s too hard, just let me know?”

“OK.” She confirmed her understanding, already squeezing her fists nervously as she wriggled a bit.

“If you’re not liking something or getting overwhelmed just say ‘stop', OK? I’ll stop right away.” Harry informed and she nodded, “What are you gonna say if you don’t like something?” he quizzed.

“Stop.” She responded.

“Good girl.” He hummed and she wriggled again and Harry bit his lip as he watched her ass jiggle a bit as she got a bit more comfortable. He gently smacked the paddle to his palm a few times before squaring up behind her. “Ready?” He asked an she nodded, “Use you words for me.” He pressed.

“Yes, I’m ready.” She confirmed as he drew the paddle back and smacked it down against her right cheek quickly and her back slightly arched as she exhaled sharply, “Was that good or do want it harder?” He asked.

“A little harder.” She responded and she remained tense until another smack came down on her other cheek, just slightly harder than the previous one. It hurt so good, she wanted to try a bit harder, so she relaxed her hands and her body followed, “Can you try a little harder?” She asked.

“Yeah, ready for it now?”

“Yes, please. Please do it.” She hummed, her tummy fluttered in anticipation and as soon as the paddle made contact with her already heated skin she gasped and tensed up. Harry stopped for a second to gauge her reaction and as he focused his eyes he watched in real time how her skin became covered in goosebumps and after a few seconds of silence her body relaxed and she wriggled her ass at him and he grinned.

“Was that it?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Y-yes, fuck please do it again.” She pleaded and he smacked down on her other cheek. With every stinging spank to her ass Y/N felt herself get a little more turned on. She felt like she was sparking up and as much as she wanted to wuss out and and ask him to stop she knew she could handle more. She was getting so horny that with each smack she swore her clit pulsed and she got wetter and wetter. She could feel the glide between her pussy lips every time she squirmed. She loved to feel her body tense up in anticipation for the next hit only to relax when the stinging sensation rippled through her ruddy cheeks and slowly fade as it tingled down her thighs. That is until yet another hard smack landed on one of her cheeks and started the cycle all over. Her soft whimpers of satisfaction were completely involuntary, she was getting lost in this feeling and with each spank she was letting herself go more and more.

She seemed to be enjoying it and Harry wondered how wet she was getting between her legs from this. She was doing so well and Harry could see her teetering on the edge of surrender, she’d already taken eight spankings and he wasn’t gonna give her more than ten. But he was glad that she had made it this far without a hitch; he wanted her to feel better than she ever had before and she moaned softly at the final two she’d gotten. He wasn’t thinking too hard about it when he slipped the paddle into his back pocket and brought his hands to her ass, caressing over her cheeks to sooth the sting of the ten spankings she’d taken so well,

“Did so good. Took it really well.” He praised her as he continued soothing her bum. He had been spanking her with a medium force and she seemed to have liked it and as Harry soothed her bottom he noticed her grinding down onto the bench a bit and he smirked, “Did you get really wet?” He asked teasingly.

“Embarrassingly wet.” She confessed through a breathy giggle and he smirked.

“Can I feel?” He asked.

“Yes.” She said immediately and he smiled at her urgency. His index finger followed the fabric of her thong down her cheeks and to the very hot spot between her legs. Her little cotton thong was definitely feeling a little damp and he bit his lip as he gently rubbed up and down her clothed crease, really getting the fabric doused in her arousal. He could feel it start to soak through the material.

“Shit…you really liked that, didn’t you?” He hummed smugly and she just whimpered as he rubbed his index finger right against her clit a few times before sliding it back to her labia and pressing in, so that he was rubbing against her entrance. Y/N squirmed a bit, trying to get more friction and he smiled, “Nuhuh. Be good for me.” He said lowly and she bit her lip as those words seemed to shoot a delicious tingly feeling through her body. She couldn’t help it as she thrust back again to get more pressure and he tutted and suddenly felt the paddle smack down across her ass and she jolted and gasped at the hard, but quick swat. The tingling and stinging on her ass seemed to radiate down to her clit and her breathing started picking up as she started to get more turned on.

“S-sorry, it just feels so good.” She whimpered and he smiled at her sweet little sound.

“I know, but you have to be patient. I’m in charge here, remember?” He asked and she grinned.

“What happened to BDSM is about the sharing of control?” She asked smugly and he chuckled as he brought the paddle down against her ass again, making her squeak out and writhe against the bench.

“Don’t be a brat.” He chuckled and she giggled as the stinging sensation rippled through her bottom half of her body. “Were being such a good girl for me.” He said softly as he started rubbing over her clothed pussy again, very lightly. Harry watched as she shivered when he called her a “good girl”, it seemed she had a bit of a praise kink. Liked to hear that she was doing so good and being so good for him. He added a bit more pressure again just to rile her up and it worked. She sighed as he rubbed against her sopping underwear, feeling the glide of the material over her labia from the slick pooling out of her little hole. He wanted to see her bare, he wanted to admire every inch of her and make her feel gorgeous and special and worthy of whatever she wanted. Her back would arch and she’d wiggle around a bit as he continued pleasuring her in such a simple way.

Y/N was absolutely touch starved. She swore that every cell in her body was yearning for more of his touch. Especially as he leisurely rubbed at her clit, it was absolute torture because it wasn’t enough to build an orgasm, but it was enough to build her pleasure and to keep making her more and more wet for him. His deep and soothing voice tickled a part of her she had no idea could affect her so deeply. She whined as he dragged his hand up from between her legs, skimming over her bottom and slowly up her spine. She was a puddle from his delicate and teasing touch and just as she was relaxing her body he swatted her with the paddle again, making her scoff through the grin on her face. The shock of the spank made her walls clench tight and her entire body tingled in response, she was starting to ache deep inside. The feeling was familiar by now, it had been months since she’d even had a proper orgasm. The anxiety, stress, and pressure had all piled up from the different parts of her life and battered her simultaneously. Admittedly, she’d been a little depressed, but the last thing she thought she’d need was this. The same feeling she’d been sitting with for months! But it was a different situation this time. She was horny in a way that was literally making her mind fuzzy and she knew that when she got out of here she’d feel so much more light and free than she had in months.

“Ready for more?” He asked and she hummed.

“Yes. Please.” She responded. Her tummy swirling with butterflies in anticipation of what was coming next.

“Alright, love. Let’s get you untied.” He said and moved around her to undo the ties on her wrists. Once they were off, he helped her sit up, so she was straddling the top of the bench and he stepped up to it and grabbed her face gently. “Think I owe you some kisses.” He said quietly and she hummed through a smile as he pressed his lips to hers.

Y/N counted nine playful pecks before he went in for the last kiss fiercely. She sighed in relief as she felt his tongue run along her bottom lip before their lips smushed together sloppily. She couldn’t help it as she ground down against the bench and whimpered into his parted mouth at the pressure on her clit. Harry smiled into their kiss when he realized that she was grinding down onto the bench.

“Want my fingers?” He asked her and she nodded.

“Please.” She purred

and he brought his right hand down, his index finger teased over the seam of her thong a few times before slipping under the thin, black fabric. His eyes met her hazy and lust-filled gaze as he slid further down. He smiled as he reached her neatly trimmed little patch of pubic hair over her mound. She bit her lip as his fingers smoothing down made a delicious tickle flutter down her vulva.

“Oh…” she moaned softly as his fingers brushed down her slit and pressed further in and made contact with her clit. He kissed her pouted lips as he rubbed against her swollen little clit easily with how sticky she already was.

“You weren’t lying.” He mumbled deeply, “So fucking wet.” He grinned before going in for another kiss and she giggled into it. Harry started going lower until his index and middle fingers made contact with her sopping entrance. He rubbed over it as she ground down into his fingers, itching to feel them sink inside of her and give her a much needed stretch. Based on what she could feel so far, his fingers were going to be far more gratifying than her own. She was starting to feel desperate.

“Harry.” She mumbled into their kiss, “Harry, please.” She implored.

“We’ve discussed this, love. Patience.” He responded and she sighed impatiently, which cause him to smirk.

“Right, sorry.” She whispered.

“S’alright, love. You’re learning.” He hummed as he started to add a bit more pressure, watching her carefully as he stopped right before sunk his fingers into her her tight entrance. They stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing each other in as he waited for the tension between them to reach it’s boiling point. She exhaled shakily and then leaned her face into his. Their noses brushed and right before she kissed his lips he drew back, “Not yet.” He whispered, “You can wait a little bit more, know you can.” He said and she sighed as he chuckle a bit.

“It’s just so much.” She explained, “M’so on edge. I feel like I’m about to explode.”

“Good. That mean’s you’re just about there.” He smiled, “Relax… Breathe deep…Pay attention to all of the feelings going on here.” He instructed as he rubbed at her entrance again, keeping her right in that sweet spot for a few more seconds. And when he felt her body fully relax he waited a few seconds before he stepped a bit closer and bore more of his weight into his arm, finally allowing for his fingers to sink inside of her. She was so wet and hot inside it made him absolutely feral. He was fighting every instinct he had to just pick her up and put her on the bed and make her come on his fingers until he’d decided she’d enough.

Y/N’s mouth dropped open as she panted out a shaky breath as his fingers sunk deep inside of her. Harry parted his lips and went in for another kiss, tongue-first. She moaned as she smeared he tongue over his before she gently sucked at it as he started to thrust his fingers into her. Y/N was grinding down onto them, riding them a bit, relishing in the slight stretch they were providing. Suddenly, Harry’s hand was around her throat, squeezing deliciously. She smiled and he retuned the gesture. In moments she started getting that addicting little spacey feeling at the minimal oxygen intake she was getting. She loved to feel floaty and tingly from the lack of oxygen. Her eyes rolled back as she ground harder against Harry, desperate to feel more pleasure.

Every time she’d grind down her clit would just barely brush against his palm, it was delicious and infuriating at the same time. She kept getting wetter and wetter as the stimulation continued building. She was squeezing her thighs tight around the bench, a desperate attempted to make it feel like there was more inside of her. She swore she could feel her walls throbbing with need, her clit was getting so sensitive from being teased so lightly. She was starting to feel desperate beyond the point of no-return, she swore she would lose her mind.

“Harry…” she gasped, “I-I can’t!” she whimpered.

“Are you asking me to stop?” He asked for clarification as he released her throat and she opened her eyes slowly and glanced into his as he stopped thrusting his fingers. She slowly started to gain full lucidity as more oxygen flowed through her brain freely again. She gently raised her hips and then ground back down onto them and shook her head.

“No, please don’t stop I just…I want more.”

“Yeah?” He smiled and she nodded, “Lift up a little.” He said and she did so and pouted when he pulled his fingers out of her. But before she could protest he sunk them in between his lips to clean them off and then he went back in for a kissy, messily tangling their tongues, letting her taste herself from his own mouth. His hands came down to her thighs and he helped her shift so they were wrapped around his own hips. She took he hint and wrapped her around around his neck as he lifted her up and slowly walked them over to the bed. As he leaned down and hovered over her he felt her take the paddle out from his pocket before she blindly swatted him over the bum and he chuckled into her mouth as he pulled back from their kiss to look at her. She was smirking up at him as she dropped the paddle onto the bed.

“Sorry, it was an intrusive thought.” She giggled.

“S’alright, we all get them…and some of us let them win.” He added and she grinned, “I have one right now…”

“Well, let it win. S’only fair.” She responded and he smiled.

“Do you really trust me, Y/N?” He asked and she bit her lip for a second as her eyes searched his own and she nodded.

“I do trust you, Harry.” She confirmed and he smiled as he pressed himself up and went back to the bench and grabbed the long ties he had draped over it. When he turned back he saw her legs bent at the knee, how he’d left her. And he came on over and dropped the ties beside her. His hands then smoothed over her knees and down her thighs and then up to her hips.

“Permission to get these off?” He mumbled over her lips.

“Yeah, get them off.” She said as she raised her hips and he was quick to peel the thong down her legs. He tried to patient and not just spread her open and gawk at her pussy as he stuffed her thong in his back pocket before he brought his hands to her knees again.

“M’gonna tie you up…like this.” He said as he pushed her knees back until her ankles were up against the backs of her thighs, “S’gonna keep you spread open for me while I play with you.” He explained, “Have a feeling you’re not gonna be good about keeping your legs spread for me.” He added and she giggled and nodded, “S’that alright?”

“Yeah.” She agreed and he smiled and reached for one of the ties.

Harry started twisting the fabric to make it into a thinner size before he wrapped it around her ankle and thigh and when he asked, she assured him it wasn’t too tight. She watched as he finished up the knot, but lost track of what he was doing as he continued twisting the tie and then tied another knot right under her knee. “So you’re into this kinda thing too?” She asked.

“A bit. Just started learning a few months ago.” He shared as he ensured his knots were secure. “This is called a frog tie.” He said as he moved on to her other leg.

“Kinda of an unsexy name.” She pointed out.

“Says the frog.” He teased with a grin and she scoffed through a chuckle as he started to tie her other ankle to her thigh. “Good?”

“Yeah.” She hummed and he proceeded to move to the second knot. Once it was fastened she was spread open and he was still holding back from ogling the part of her he was dying to see, which did not go unnoticed by her. He smiled as their eyes met again and leaned down to kiss her gently. The last thing she expected was for him to palm over her and lightly lightly smack at her dripping pussy a couple times. Before pulled back and grabbing the clit pump. He opened up the package and she watched on as he messed with it in his hand for a bit before he looked back into her eyes.

“You’re gonna feel some pressure when I twist this top part.” He explained and she nodded in understanding as she supported herself on her elbows to see his next actions. He finally glanced down at her exposed pussy and he felt his mouth water. He licked over his lips as he reached forward and brushed his thumb through her sticky folds and then over her clit. “So fucking pretty.” He hummed as he rubbed the pad of his thumb into her swollen little clit a few times. She bit her lip as she watched his thumb glide easily over her sensitive little button. He then slicked his index finger up through her folds and opened her up a bit more, “Fuck, that’s the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.” He hummed with awe. He licked over his lips again, more than ready to lick and slurp at her glistening pussy, but he had to do this first. He gawked for a few more seconds before rubbing over her clit once more before bringing down the little pump. He got her clit into the opening and glanced up at her again.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

With her confirmation Harry proceeded to twist the top of the little pump. Sucking the air that had been collected into the little tube. After the third twist she whined and he grinned as he watched her clit throb as the pressure inside of the little pump increased.

“Just a little bit more, love.” He informed her. With each new slow twist her tender little button was sucked further into the pump and when he let go it stayed put and she whined as she felt her clit throbbing.

Harry then reached down to her entrance and dipped one then two fingers into her. He pushed them in as deep as he could before curving them up and when she gasped and fisted at the bed covers under her he smiled. He watched as she attempted to shut her legs, but the way they were tied didn’t allow much movement. She moaned as he continued fucking her with his fingers until her abs were clenching and he quickly pulled them out.

Y/N whined, her desperate and glossy eyes were right on his as he sunk his fingers again and built her up again until she was moaning out in pleasure and again, he stopped right before she could feel that delicious flutter in her pussy take over her body. Y/N’s breathing was ragged as she tried her best to keep her composure as Harry edged her once more, she whimpered as the feeling faded away and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Oh fuck!” She gasped and arched her back as he twisted the pump once more.

“You’re little clit’s just throbbing so hard. Just a few more minutes, love.” He assured as he reached for the vibrator she had chosen and got it open.

She watched on with eager eyes as he inspected it for a moment before switching it on, he played with the settings for a bit, the entire time she could feel her little hole pulsating as she anticipated his next move. He was taking his time though and as much as she wanted to protest his unhurried pace, she was relishing in the languorous energy that was slowly pulling her deeper and deeper. It was getting so hard to fight it off any more. Suddenly she felt the buzzing of the bulbous head of the vibrator gliding against her sopping labia. Her lips twitched up in a smile as she sighed in pleasure and he glanced up to her with that smirk that was getting more and more engrained in her mind. She bit her lip to suppress her grin as her hungry eyes met his own. She wanted him to call her a good girl again, she was dying to hear it, she needed it. She moaned as he glided the vibrator up her folds and the vibrator met with the little plastic pump and it cause the little ridges to absorb the vibrations and then project them around her pumped clit.

“Oh my god!” She moaned and writhed a bit beneath him. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes from her clit, all swollen and throbbing from being suffocated with all the pressure created by the pump. Just as she felt her thighs quaking Harry pulled the vibrator away and she huffed but kept her whine of disapproval to herself.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna start up again soon. You’re being so good for me.” He assured and she relaxed. “Gonna get this off first.” He said as he brought his hands to the pump. One on the base of it and the other on the little key on the top. He started to release the pressure until he was able to pull it off of her and she sighed in relief. He licked over his lips at her now engorged clit pulsating, begging to be sucked gently between his lips.

She glanced down to see her clit all puffy and noticeably bigger. It was nothing drastic, but enough that she could see it throbbing. And somehow, being able to see it somehow made her hyperaware of how turned on she was. She could feel the throbbing basically radiating down her legs and it made her bit down on her lip as he just watched it for a few seconds. Put of nowhere he sparkled her shiny pussy and she whimpered as her lips set in a pout at the shock that shot through her clit. Harry glanced up at her with a smirk and she bit her lip.

“Again?” He asked and she nodded eagerly and he chuckled before spanking her pussy a few more times, watching her writhe after each little swat. She could feel her arousal dripping down to her ass and it was making her wonder if she’d actually ever been turned on prior to this in her life. Then, Harry started to kneel and she slightly raised herself to see what he was doing, but was momentarily distracted by him grabbing the vibrator and before she even had a chance to mentally prepare for it she felt his lips around her clit and she absolutely lost her mind. She tried to shut her legs because the sensitivity was so overwhelming, but her bondage prevented it. So instead, she screwed her eyes shut as she clenched her fists tightly around the bed covers as the pleasure she’d been craving started to build up.

“Oh fuck that feels so good!” She muttered through a moan and then she heard the vibrator come on before it pressed to her entrance. She writhed as it pressed to her sensitive opening and he rubbed it over her arousal a couple times, slicking it up enough to get it to slip inside of her smoothly. And when it finally did he pressed in and her skin became covered in goosebumps as the bulbous head of the vibrator was nudged around until it was lodged right up against her g-spot and she gasped and her entire body stiffed for a few seconds before a moan tore through her chest when he started to suck on her clit with more fervor.

“Oh right there! Right there, rightthereee…” she mewled as he rubbed into it.

Harry smiled at her reaction and her pretty sounds. Her puffy little clit was fun to play with and her taste was so nice and subtle. He could be down there for ages if he could be. He could feel her struggling and hear her ragged breaths and sounds as she tried to keep it together. He popped off of her clit and gave it a few flicks with the tip of his tongue, right up against the noticeably darker little head of it.

“Come whenever you want, love.” He mumbled as he sucked love bites into her thigh and she writhed a bit at the bite of his suckling and nibbling as he marked her up. He very gently moved the vibrator inside of her, gyrating it to find the spot that had her legs trembling… and there it was. She started to gasp in time with the little thrusts of the vibrator and then her hands dug into his hair and he smiled.

“Oh my god…Fuck Harry, you’re gonna make me come!” She whimpered as her thighs started to tremble. Just seconds later her body fully relaxed before it immediately tensed up again as she started to come undone and much to his surprise she started to squirt and he groaned and sucked harder at her clit. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She slurred over and over again as her body writhed with an otherworldly pleasure that made her feel like she was vibrating.

She’d been on edge for nearly twenty minutes, he was taking his time, building her up and she understood why now. And he wasn’t stopping; he did slow down when she made it through that orgasm, but once her breathing was somewhat back to normal he removed the vibrator and got his fingers and mouth back on her. Her second orgasm built up again as he started to lap at her clit and it was just as good. She was trembling as she whined when he didn’t let up and effortlessly coaxed her into a third one and after that they took a bit more time to build up. He wasn’t stopping, but significantly lowering the level of stimulation. He kept her on edge by rubbing into her g-spot, but would only mind her clit every now and again, helping her through the sensitivity until she was peaking again. By the fourth orgasm she was laughing through her panting because she swore even the back of her knees tickled as she came undone. When the fifth one washed her out she could hardly believe she was alive, she was struggling to breathe and her brows were furrowing as she moaned out in defeat when she remembered that she could’t close her legs. When her sixth one approached she knew she was going to squirt as she literally felt her pussy pulsating. And when it started he gave her clit heavy, intentional strokes with his tongue as his fingers fucked her harder and from there she couldn’t stop. Harry was moaning against her as it just kept coming out of her. She was crying out his name with even more curses and chants of gratitude. She was so sensitive, her eyes were brimming with tears and a part of this was so emotionally overwhelming, she wanted him to stop, but a part of her was just letting this happen to her.

“Fuck, you’re still going, baby.” He mumbled rubbed his thumb into her clit now and stood to look at her face. As soon as her eyes met his she smiled and he smiled back. It made her heart leap and then she frowned as she started to come again, “Oh fuck, good girl. Squeeze my fingers tight.” He said as her head knocked back and she moaned as her tears started to stream down her face. “One more, angel. You’ve got one more for me. I know you do, love.” He mumbled and her lidded eyes looked into his own.

“On your cock, please. Want you to feel the last one on your cock, Harry.” She managed and he groaned at her request. His prick was aching, he needed the release. He didn’t even plan on fucking her, he just wanted to make her feel good and just get off on it when he got back home. But she wanted it on his cock and he would definitely give her that if it would make her feel good.

“Yeah? Want my big, thick cock to fuck your last orgasm out of you?” He asked, voice deep and gravely. His fingers slowed down inside of her and she nodded, her glossy eyes peered deeply into his own.

“Please, Harry. Please. I need you.” She whimpered and he bit his lip and nodded as he gently drew his fingers out of her. Before he could bring them to his lips she was reaching for his hand and he easily let her take it and she brought it to her mouth. She opened up and he smiled.

“Go on then, greedy girl.” She immediately wrapped her lips around his warmth, sticky fingers and sucked. As her smooth and hot tongue ran along them his cock pulsed and his balls tightened up, loading themselves up for his big finish. His cock growing a bit more as more of his blood rushed to his member. He was so fucking hard he could cut stone, or at least it felt that way. He was sure that as soon as his trousers were down his cock would spring right up and stay standing against his lower stomach. She moaned in delight around his fingers, the vibrations of it traveling up his arms and shooting a fuzzy feeling straight to his heart and then down to his tummy. “Yeah, I know you taste so fucking good.” He said and her eyes blinked open upon hearing that. He smirked at her and pulled his fingers out of her mouth and back down to where she was quite literally oozing her slick. He lightly pressed in and smiled as he felt a thicker stream of it enveloped his finger tips. He gently pulled it away, chuckling as he saw a thick string of it, stick connected to her entrance. It spun out and snapped until he was right near her belly button. Her skin broke out in goosebumps at the cold little flash along her abdomen as her arousal met with her skin. His fingers were slimy with her slick and he hovered over her and licked them off, keeping what he could on his tongue before grabbing her face and going in for a messy kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself right on his tongue, she could also smell her arousal on him and it was making her loose her mind. She started to lick and suck at his tongue, relishing in the feelings of elation he was giving her.

“Please get a condom.” She said and he nodded and broke away from her kiss.

Harry dug around his pockets for his wallet and then pulled one out and set it down beside her on the bed as he got his trousers and briefs off. She licked her lips at the size of his cock and couldn’t wait to feel him opening her up. He got the condom on quickly before slicking it up through her folds, thrusting sloppily to really get himself nice and lubed up. Her little pussy was so fucking warm, he nudged up against her clit and she giggled up at him through her wince of overstimulation and he chuckled at her reaction. He was anxious to feel her tight, hot walls giving way to his cock, so he glanced up at her and she nodded, urging him to go on. With her consent he guided his achingly hard cock to her entrance. He sighed in relief as he teased the inch of his tip into her weepy little hole. He smiled as he held her open and watched himself sink into her, it was making his cock twitch because he was so sensitive there.

“Fuck tha’feels so good.” He mumbled in delight as he started feeding in a bit more of himself in and she sighed in relief. When he made it past the tight little ring of her entrance he moaned as he felt her opening up and spasming to quickly try and accommodate his intrusion. It was making his mind blurry and his tummy twist as just how hard she was spasming around his cock. He swallowed thickly as he finished sinking in the rest of the way and they both sighed in relief as their eyes met. He gave a few thrusts and she wriggled her hips a bit, so he reached for one of the pillows and tucked it under her bum and slid back in and immediately they both moaned as his tip rammed into a part of her that made his balls tighten up and he groaned as he started thrusting quickly into it over and over against until she was seeing starts and moaning loudly. Fuck, she just felt so good around him, so warm and smooth, the pressure of his thrusts making it feel like her body was forcibly pulling him in. She started to tremble and he chuckled in satisfaction.

“Gonna give me one more?” He asked and she nodded fiercely. “Good girl. Fuck, you were made to be worshiped like this.” He said and she panted heavily as his words settled on her so nicely. “Y’take it so well. Take my cock so well. Doing so good for me. You’re so. Fucking. Good. For me.” He praised her, punctuating his words with his thrusts, and she looked into his eyes and she blinked slowly a few times and suddenly everything stopped for a second before the energy just shifted. Her ears started to ring and she swore that there was a halo effect around him, she could only see his face and nothing else seemed to exist as her body slowly started to feel like it was on overdrive and she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply.

“Fuck, Harry…” She whimpered and he groaned, so in love with the fact that he watched her lose herself on his cock.

“Come for me, love. I know you’re so close, jus’let it happen.” He encouraged her.

The entirety of her skin was rising with goosebumps as she felt the coil of her pleasure expanding impossibly far. She was curling her toes to try and hang on just a bit more because she didn’t want this to end. Harry’s deep voice seemed to ripple vibrations through her body, adding to the pleasure of it all. She was especially relishing in the thwacking of his balls against her bottom and that deep, rhythmic thrusting that was jabbing his thick head against her most sensitive spot. Once all of these realizations his her together she inhaled sharply, and like a dying star, she reached what felt like the pinnacle of her existence and she exploded beautifully. Her orgasm spread through her entire body, taking her out inch by inch in a tsunami-like wave of ecstasy. It tapered down after a few moments, though it felt longer than that, and she blinked her eyes open and watched as Harry started to lose his rhythm and he grunted out as he gave her a few more debilitatingly deep thrusts that had her squirming and then gasping as he just grabbed around her thighs and rammed himself into her cunt. She had a mini orgasm from that and watching him groaned as he spilled into the condom.

“Fuck…” he mumbled lowly as he glanced down between their bodies before looking up into her glassy eyes. “Made me come so hard, love.” He smiled as he leaned over her body and her hands looped around his neck as he joined their lips in an ardent kiss. He gently rolled his hips into hers, milking out every last drop of his come. “Such a good girl for me. You really let go for me. Y’did so fucking good, love.” He praised her in between kisses and she at up his praises. Kissing him back and relishing in his affection until his cock had softened enough that it started to fall out of her. They kissed once more before he reared back and pulled out of her all the way and she winced at the suddenly empty feeling and just let herself fall back against the mattress.

“Let’s get these off.” Harry said softly as he rubbed over her thighs and she just nodded. She was just catching her breath from all of it.

Y/N still felt like she was in a sort of trance. Everything felt delayed and slightly fuzzy, it was a lovely feeling. Her mind was drawn a blank and her body put every single resource it had towards making her feel this incredible and natural high for as long as she could. He was gentle as he undid the binds on her thighs and even helped her stretch her legs out after getting them done. She was quiet, just letting him do what he was doing until he smiled at her.

“You alright there?” He asked with a grin and she nodded before giggling.

“Just…processing. I still feel…tingly.” She said after licking her lips and he hummed.

“Good.” He hummed with a smile as he let his fingers skim up her naked torso. She shivered at the tickles and he chuckled. “How was that for you?” He asked and she smirked.

“I think I will take all of the toys home.” She joked and he chuckled again as she started to giggle. “Thank you, though.” She said as her smile slowly faded, “I’ve never felt like that before and I…needed it.” She said and he smiled and nodded once.

“Good.” He hummed, “And you know, you don’t need to do all that crazy shit they do in porn to have a good submissive experience. It can be simple, you know? Just gotta find yourself the right partner that does what you need.” He said softly and she nodded.

“Is this your style?” She asked him.

“A bit. I mean, I’m definitely more of a pleasure dom, but I do like to be a little mean or mischievous if the opportunity arises.” He said and she chuckled. “Like when I spanked your pussy, I went a little hard on you.” He said and she furrowed her eyebrows.

“Oh…it felt…tame to me.” She said and he chuckled.

“Maybe you also have a little pain kink?” He suggested and she hummed pensively, “There’s a lot to explore.”

“Yeah, apparently. I didn’t even know I could squirt.” She giggled tiredly and he chuckled.

“Everyone can, you just gotta know where your spot is.”

“And now I do!” She said enthusiastically and he laughed lowly.

“Now you do.” He hummed as he smiled at her.

“Umm, can you help me to the bathroom?”

“Yeah love, C’mon.” He said helping her up and walking her over.

Y/N shut the door and turned to see her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was a little smudged and her hair a bit tousled, but there was glint in her eyes that she’d never seen before. She felt really good in her skin, something that she’d always struggled with. She sat on the toilet and as she glanced down at her legs she smiled as she saw the little bruises starting to blossom along her inner thighs. She knew that she might never seen Harry again unless it was by some trick of fate, but she was OK with that. She was gentle as she cleaned herself up and then wiped down at bit before washing her hands and joining him back in the room. He was sat on the bed, back in his briefs by now. She hurried over to her pile of clothes and Harry noticed and reached for his pants.

“S’in my pocket.” He said reaching into the back pocket and pulling out her thong.

“Oh thank you.” She smiled and hurried to slip it on. Then she went over to her bra and dress and set them on the bed. She was just about to get it on when his hands came around and grabbed her breasts in his hands. She bit her lip as he crossed them and kneaded them a bit. Her nipples were between his fingers and before she could say something he pressed down on them with his thumb and index fingers and she knocked her head back into his chest. The light bite of pain made her thighs tightened and she sighed shakily.

“Wanna come home with me?” He asked before nipping at her ear lobe, “Hmmm?” She quickly nodded her head.

“Use your words, Y/N.” He admonished in a slightly mocking tone.

“Yes, Harry. I want to go home with you.” She responded.

“Let’s get you dressed then.” He hummed.

***********

The night had been long…their sexual escapade had even gone into the day. What they lacked in sleep was made up in hospitality because Harry’d been an excellent host. Even as they said their goodbyes he was so sweet and gracious. He’d even gotten her a car to take her back to her place. She hadn’t asked for any of his contact info, she assumed that he didn’t want to get that personal, but she was OK with it. She’d gotten that she needed from him and she would always be grateful for that. When she informed Nina that she was on her way home she had a late lunch ready for her because she had a wealth of questions to ask Y/N. They were getting through their food as Y/N talked to her about how literally this was the most unforgettable and unreal experience of her life, when the doorbell rang.

“Hold that thought.” She said and hurried to the door. When she opened it she was face to face with a young man who had a box and bouquet of flowers in his hands. “Hello.” She greeted with some confusion.

“Good afternoon. Is a Miss Y/L/N available?”

“Yeah, that’s me.” She confirmed and he smiled.

“Wonderful! These are for you.” He said and she looked at him in confused but took the items anyway.

“Oh? Thank you.”

“No problem. Have a good day.”

“You too!” She smiled as he walked away and she shut the door.

“Who is it?” Nina called from the living room.

“Just a delivery for me.” She said as she looked around the bouquet for a card and didn’t see one on the vase, in the arrangement, nor on the box. She set them down at the little table they had by the entrance and opened up the box and sputtered on a laugh when she saw the items she had used with Harry last night. And there was a little card in there. She reached for it and opened it up and smiled as she flipped open the card.

Y/N,

I noticed you forgot your toys, so I had to get that back to you. Consider them a gift, you were so incredible that you definitely earned them. Shit, that sounds really illegal…Anyway… I just wanted to reiterate that I had a really great time with you. Thank you for being incredible company. I fear that this is a one time thing, which I’m grateful that you understand, but I want you to know that you’re one of a kind and I assure you that I’ll never forget you. I hope you feel the same way about me. Take great care of yourself, you deserve it!

-H.

Y/N smiled a she read over the note and tucked it back in the envelope. Yeah, there was absolutely no way she would ever forget about him. She closed the box and and grabbed that and the vase and headed back over.

“Ooh what’s that?” Nina asked suggestively as Y/N set down the vase on their little dining table.

“Nothing, s’from a client. She has her own stationary company and I ordered a few things. She said she would deliver them extra special.” She fibbed.

“Awww, cute.” Nina pouted and Y/N nodded and smiled.

“I know. Gonna go put this down.” She said and hurried to her room. She made a mental note to hide those and then replace the items with the new stationary she had actually received just a few days ago, Nina would surely want to check at some point. She was just about to leave her room when Nina gasped loudly and hurried over, meeting Y/N in the hall.

“Girl, guess what?!?” She questioned and Y/N looked at Nina with a startled look.

“What?” She asked and then turned her phone over to her and Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw a picture of Harry from last night leaving LVRS Club. He had his driver come pick her up from the rear entrance. He explained that he needed to make a public exit so that people saw he went home, but he didn’t want to subject Y/N to that, and well she didn’t want to appear anywhere if she could help it.

“Harry Style was there last night! God, if I had hung back and played my cards right I could’ve had a chance to flirt with him.” She huffed. “He looks so good…" she said as she glanced down at the imagine on her phone, "Just imagine him without all that clothes on…” She hummed and Y/N giggled..

“Mmmm, you're right he looks good…so fucking good.” She agreed with a smug grin.

Hope you guys liked it! Feel free to share any feedback with me!

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