#i hope zayn sees and they start fucking again

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS: Cursed Spice | 18+ NSFW

Aight homies, I almost ran over like four old ladies speeding home on my lunch break to write this. It's cursed. BUt only a little...I don't think it's that bad. This was born from being challenged not directly by @anxiousgoddest so if any of y'all read this at work or in a public place, that's on you and your bad decision making.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Pegging mentioned, Zayne's Sanity™, Sounding mentioned, Biting, Alligator Death Rolls in bed, Xavier is too old for your shit, Simba, Rafayel wants to both laugh and cry, why are you like this situations, Oh SEX that happens a little in this, it's NSFW what did you expect?

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier was on top...again. One hand trapping both your wrists above your head while he ground his clothed cock against your heat. The only thing separating you two were his thin boxers and your skimpy underwear that you wore for the express purpose of him ripping them off you.

However, you wanted to be on top, and he knew it. You were pouting as you looked up at him and you could see the amused glimmer in his eyes as he continued teasing you.

"Something wrong?" He chuckled, his boyish laugh filling the room and you groaned as he managed to angle his hips just right. The bastard knew he was being unfair. He had been on top every single time this week. You just wanted to ride him, tease him a bit, maybe do a little edging for flavor. He decided otherwise as he continued taking control of your session.

"Lemme top for once, please?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at him, hoping that was all it would take for him to give in.

"If I'm not mistaken, last time you were on top you got tired halfway through and made me take over so you could lay down." He reminded you and you huffed.

"It was one time..." You tried arguing but he rose an eyebrow, "Okay it was a few times, but it's not my fault you have a surprising amount of stamina, okay?"

"Then perhaps we should work on your stamina next?" Xavier said it so nonchalantly and you bit back a remark as his hands snuck to your sides, snapping the elastic of your underwear, "We should start immediately."

He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, but you had another idea. You went in, biting down on his neck a bit harsher than you normally would. Xavier let out a gasp as his grip on your wrists loosened and you took the opportunity to wrap your limbs around him, your arms and legs locked into place around his neck and torso.

Then you rolled, mouth still clamped on his neck. Xavier let out a groan as he found himself on his back and you sat up triumphantly, looking at the angry bite mark you left on him. You ground your hips down on him and snickered.

"What was that for?" Xavier asked, his hand going to his neck to make sure he wasn't bleeding.

"Classic Alligator Fuckhouse. Gotta keep up, old man." You said, knowing that 99% of people probably wouldn't know what the hell that was.

"A what...that's a thing?"

"It is indeed, and I just did it...successfully might I add."

Xavier sighed before remembered what you said, "You called me an old man."

"You kinda are one, Xav."

"What does it mean if you like this old man?" Oh he was pouting now, how adorable. You just wanted to squish his cheeks...or fuck the shit out of him...perhaps both.

"It means I'm into Gilfs."

Xavier paused, thinking over what you said before sighing, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Love me and fuck me, babe."

Zayne

At this point Zayne was well aware that you had an obsession over his ass. It was unavoidable when you were always making a grab for it. He just never thought you would have...plans like these.

"Please Zayne, I am begging you. Just one time, and if you don't like it we never have to talk about it again." You were pleading, and normally it always worked on him. He had a soft spot for you, after all, and was almost a push over when you requested something. This, however, seemed to be something he wasn't prepared to do...at least not at first.

"I understand you like to be adventurous...but this?" Zayne said as he sat on the couch. His shirt was already tossed to the side and his pants unbuttoned. You had worked hard to get him in the mood before you popped this question. Your hand going teasingly over the bulge in his pants.

"I already have the stuff for it, if you'd let me..." You cooed, trying your hardest to make this seem like it was a good idea on his end. Zayne sighed as he leaned his head back onto the couch.

"Of course you've already bought the necessary items..." You don't know why Zayne seemed to surprised by this with your current track record.

"Lemme just grab them to show you. It won't be that bad, I swear." You said, getting up and running to your room and grabbing a bag filled with everything you'd need. Most items had to be ordered online, so you had literally been planning this for a while. You scurried back to the living room and took out the items.

Zayne paused as he took it all in before he finally spoke, "Why does it look like that?" He said as he pointed at the dildo that was very much not human.

"Oh, I got it off bad dragon. I think this one was called-" You got cut off before you could finish the sentence.

"You bought a large dragon shaped dildo...for me?" Zayne was already feeling the grays peaking through the dark locks of hair on his head.

"I actually measured and it's the same size as you, doctor. If I can handle taking your dick, you can handle taking mine." You said, placing the dildo next to the harness, "Now can I please peg you, I just wanna see that ass jiggle with every thrust. It'll be so hot." You whined.

"That is not going inside me." Zayne finally said.

"But consider if it did." He didn't seem like he wanted to consider the possibility.

You paused before looking back at more of your supplies, "Fine...then how about sounding?"

Zayne looked on in horror before zipping his pants up and standing up. You let out a small wail as you realized he was actually going to just leave you.

"No Zaaaaaayne, don't leave me! At least lemme suck your dick I've been so good."

"My love, I think we need to sign you up for a therapy session before we have sex again."

"I am mentally sound now lemme peg that ass!"

Rafayel

Your entire body was shaking from exertion as you came again, clamping down on Rafayel's bottom cock. You could hear the man underneath you groaning as well, clearly close to his own release. The waves lapped at your skin as you looked down, the soft glow of the moonlight illuminating his flushed face perfectly.

He was always a sight to behold, but especially like this. Completely open with you in his Lemurian form was something you two were still exploring together. Every time you found yourself tangled with him like this you swore you were the luckiest human being to ever grace this realm.

Your hand wrapped around his top cock, jerking the slick appendage against your stomach as you helped him. His clawed hands dug into your thighs as he bucked up into you, groaning as he came both inside of you and all over your stomach.

When he finally settled down you both just basked in the afterglow. The sea breeze helping to cool you off as you stared down at him.

"Normally I'd ask for another round, but I don't think I can feel my legs." You admitted with a small laugh. You could see Rafayel's grin as he sat up with you. The scales of his tail were soft under your ass as he pulled you a bit closer to him.

"Can't relate." He said and you chuckled before getting an idea. You looked down at your stomach and how his cum managed to glow a dim blue. It had fascinated you the first time you had seen it, and you recall how embarrassed he was when you asked if it was safe to eat. Now you had other plans.

"Ah, I can get us a bit cleaned up before we head back inside." Rafayel was already pushing you two back into the ocean, slowly taking his length out of you. Before your stomach could be submerged, you took your thumb and swiped at some of his release.

Rafayel gave you a curious look before he saw the wide smile spreading across your lips. Before he could question you, you swiped your thumb over his forehead.

"Simba." You said.

Rafayel was at a loss for words as he just stared at you. He was used to you being eccentric, but this was...something else. You were pretty damn proud of yourself as you looked at his glowing forehead. He took in a small breath before speaking.

"Might I ask what you're doing?" He said, his voice a little clipped. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

"NAAAAAAAAAANTS ingonyama bagithi baba!" You shouted as you began singing. Rafayel's hand went over to cover your mouth from continuing your song.

"You little nightmare." He said, hearing your laughter from under his hand. He then got an idea and smirked. He stared at you for a moment and you wondered what he had planned. Until suddenly he fell backwards with you in his arms, submerging you both into the ocean water.

It was worth it.

#loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace #Zayne Love and Deepspace #Xavier Love and Deepspace #Rafayel Love and Deepspace #Lnds #Lnds Rafayel #Lnds Zayne #Lnds Xavier #lnds x reader #x reader #reader insert #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #l&ds #l&ds rafayel #l&ds zayne #l&ds xavier #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader #lads xavier #lads xavier x reader #lads zayen #lads zayne x reader

[horrorhot-line]

xavier's nsfw alphabet

➵ pairing: xavier x female!reader

➵ word count: 2.3k

➵ genre: nsfw

➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. cockwarming, breeding kink, slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging.

➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.

➵ zayne's ver. | rafayel's ver.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

notes: true to the poll, i will be doing xavier first, while i work on any other oneshot, i hope this keeps you fed ;)

also anon, if you see this, the zayne one is on its way dw <3333

credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) it takes it out of him completely, pounding your pussy and making sure you're satisfied. so unless you tell him to get up specifically, he'll stay balls deep inside you until he goes soft, letting your warmth and twitching body lull him to sleep. "5 more minutes…"

➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he likes his arms- toned biceps that are the perfect handle for you when he's stuffing you with his cock. he loves watching you struggle underneath him, knowing he's the only one you'd cling to so desperately. his favourite body part when it comes to you has to be your boobs. if it were tits or ass for him, he'd choose the former any day of the week; xavier loves squeezing your nipples between his fingers, cupping them in his hands as he fucks you. he loves the way they bounce when he's pounding away at your stretched pussy. that, and they're the perfect pillow for when he's done with you, letting your heartbeat soothe him as he drifts off to sleep. "so perfect- you're beautiful, you know that?"

➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) xavier loves plugging your sopping cunt when he finally cums inside you, loves the way your body twitches under him, spent with how many orgasms he's pulled out of you, pussy spasming around him as he pumps his dick into you a few more times, making sure every last drop ends up inside you. he'll leave his dick in, ignoring the cum staining the sheets, your slick covering his thighs as he wraps his arms around you as he goes for a short nap. "i'll clean the mess up in a bit, don't worry."

➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) he won't admit it; he doesn't have to because you eventually figure it out. xavier loves edging you, slowing down his thrusts right as you're about to cum, so he can string your orgasm along and have you seeing stars. he loves the way your eyes roll back when he starts pounding into you again, his headboard slamming against the wall as he fills you up. "not yet, baby- just a little more. i promise i'll make you feel so good."

➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he's not that experienced, of course not. how could he be when he's saved all his firsts for you? that doesn't matter, though; he makes up for what he lacks by being a quick learner. the first time he fucks you, it's nice and slow, has you craving for more, and the minute you manage to moan, "please," and "faster", he picks up the pace, drilling his dick into your cunt and swallowing your whimpers as his lips latch onto yours. "like this, princess?"

➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) he loves spoon fucking you. the number of times he's been cuddling you, and you readjust (innocently, of course), rubbing your ass across his dick one too many times. he slips his cock out of his pyjama pants, grinding into you to let you know he's in the mood as he pulls your panties aside. he rubs his cock against you, coating his tip in your slick before he pushes his dick into you inch by inch. he fucks you like this most nights, one hand wrapped around your stomach, the other squeezing your tit as he trails kisses across your nape. "so good- 'm gonna cum."

➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he's not serious during sex, but he isn't goofy, either. he's laid back and mostly focuses on your needs, chasing your orgasm, angling his hips just right until he finds that one spot that has you sobbing. "does that feel good?"

➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's well groomed, it's not bushy. it's too much work taking care of it every day, so he shaves every other time he showers. better for you, since when he's balls deep inside you, you can feel his stubble against your clit, and fuck does it feel good. he'll shave the minute you ask him to, no questions asked. "it's not too hairy, is it?"

➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) he's the romantic type, when both of you have time, he'll set up candles, greet you with flowers at the door, and carry you to bed bridal style before gently laying you down. he'll trail kisses down your body, tongue edging your clit until you're begging for him, and that initial first thrust has both of you moaning. "let me make love to you tonight, princess."

➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) he doesn't do it often and doesn't see the need to. he'd much rather stay horny, letting his balls fill up, saving it all for you so when he finally has his way with you, you're looking all cute and exhausted, leaking his cum. "you look so pretty like this, taking every inch. yeah? you feel good?"

➵ k for kink (one or more of his kinks) he's very vanilla to begin with. mostly because he doesn't know what he wants. after a while though, you suspect he does have a few kinks. one of them being- he has a breeding kink. the amount of times he's thought out loud in front of you, telling you how pretty you'd look with a baby bump. and you definitely don't miss when he makes sure no cum leaks out of you once he's done; he'll either stuff you full of his cock or his fingers, falling asleep with either still inside. also, he loves cockwarming, and nothing will convince you otherwise. he loves the warmth your pussy provides for his dick, and the way he has the best naps when he's buried inside you. "just a little longer…"

➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) your apartment or his, he doesn't mind. as far as xavier's concerned, it's free reign. though, he does enjoy bending you over his balcony, being an s-class senior hunter means he has the paycheck to afford a penthouse. he'll slide your panties to the side on the days you wake up before him to enjoy the morning sun, and he'll nudge your legs apart before angling himself into you, raising your thigh over the glass fence so his tip kisses your cervix. you love the thrill of anyone seeing you and the added security that he won't let you fall. "so tight, you like the risk that much?"

➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) honestly? touch his dick and find out. he's not an overly horny individual, but just one touch from you, one sultry look, and he's ready to go. towering over you as you shoot him a smirk, peeling his shirt off and discarding it in the corner as he pulls you across the bed to him by your ankle, "stop teasing me."

➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) princess is his favourite, it's the one he uses most often when he's balls deep inside you, hand underneath your shirt squeezing your tit, lips trailing kisses along your neck and leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pumps his cum into you. he calls you baby occasionally, but he prefers calling your name, whispering it alongside praises of how good you feel, when he's fucking into you.

note: if you know his backstory you'd understand the first nickname, i am on my knees sobbing and begging

➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he's okay with either, doesn't have a prefrence because he prefers filling you up with his cock. though, his dick does twitch when you offer to give him a blow job, and he makes sure to return the favour. he adores it when you grab his hair and force his face closer to your cunt. "enjoying yourself?"

➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) this one is obvious, he's slow when he fucks you, lazily humping you from behind as he holds you close. he loves the way you squirm beside him, grinding on his cock, signalling for him to speed up. he'll roll his hips into yours, letting his dick hit all the right spots, teasing you as he slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip in. "begging for more, baby? tell me how you want it."

➵ q for quickies (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) he's ready to go if you are; all you have to do is palm him through his pants and give him that look that says, 'i need you to fuck me, and i need you to do it now.' he'll blink, before taking your hand and leading you to the closest secluded place before he's balls deep inside you, "couldn't wait until we got home, princess?"

➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) if it makes you happy, he's up for experimenting when it's something you're interested in, and it isn't unreasonable. he just can't find it in himself to say no when you put your hand on his thigh and give him those eyes, it couldn't hurt to give in to your whims, "if that's what you want, my love."

➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) he definitely has stamina, not breaking a sweat as he snaps his hips into you, slowing down as he lowers his chest to meet yours, hand on your head to hold you in place as he sets a brutal pace that pushes you over the edge. that doesn't change the fact that he loves his sleep, and as you come down from your high, you realise that. you're still twitching at the way he's lazily humping you, cum leaking out of you as he snores softly. he tries his best to last longer than you, letting you get your release first, but the odd times he doesn't, he'll grind into you until you finish, twitching from how sensitive he is as he lets out hushed moans next to your ear.

➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns just one- a vibrator he got off the internet by accident, having thought it could massage his fingers, and you couldn't hold in your laughter when he showed it to you, confused as to why it didn't do its job properly. when you were done explaining that it was a sex toy and what it was used for, you enjoyed the lost look on his face and the initial realisation of what it was until he got an idea. you moved back, suddenly scared at what his smug expression implied, "who knew you'd like it this much, princess? look at how wet you are- good thing we found a use for it, hm?"

➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) xavier is unfair, and not in the way you'd think. he has no idea the effect he has on you, hands on your thighs underneath tables when the two of you are on dates, palm on the small of your lower back as you walk the streets, hands finding yours, tracing his thumbs on the back of your hand when he's looking something up on his phone, and those eyes, fuck those eyes really did you in. you're horny 24/7 around him, hyperaware he's there, and that he's yours, you end up asking him to help you. "how did you get this wet, baby? i didn't do anything this time."

➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he's not that vocal; he's on the quiet side, but he knows how to make up for it. the initial moan he lets out when he's slipping his dick in, inch by inch, is music to your ears. he'll bury his face in your neck or place his head beside yours so you can hear his soft groans.

➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) he will listen. you think it's the best thing about him. you have one problem, little or big, you have one tiny complaint, and it's fixed, he'll ask you what you need, and it's done. you want him to touch you more often, want him to spend more time with you, want him to do the dishes when you've had a rough day, it's done, no questions asked. you think he's the sweetest for this, he's definitely a golden retriever boyfriend.

➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) he's not the girthiest, but his dick is long and hits all the right spots. you do realise one day though, that his cock bends slightly to the left, no wonder he has you seeing stars. his v-line is to die for; you love it when he wears grey sweats, the band of his briefs slightly visible as he stretches, and his light blonde happy trail leading down to…

➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) he's more into the romantic aspect of the relationship, having lived as long as he has, he's just happy he has you by his side. but if you tease him… grinding as you sit on his lap, your soaked panties and his pants between the two of you, and he watches you trying to get off, it's all over for you. "you know i can't say no to you."

➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards)immediately, he is knocked out, feeling safe in your arms as you trace circles into his back and rub your hands through his hair, he's sleeping like a rock. the one time the two of you forgot to say 'i love you's' to each other before bed, you had muttered those three words when you had realised, and your half-hearted strokes across his shoulder stopped when he mumbled them back, still asleep.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

#love and deepspace #smut #xavier love and deepspace x reader #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #x reader #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader

[ken-jaku]

happy valentine. zayne from love and deepspace

content warnings. smut, fem!reader, use of drugs (aphrodisiacs in choco-covered strawberries ), evol malfunctions, zayne's got a huge dick, inspired by mr. & mrs. smith, fucking you full nelson, cervix-hitting but realistic? aka it hurts like a bitch (might do a fantasy one next time idk), reverse cowgirl, riding, creampie oops, mentions of impregnating (could be just be a kink, up to interpretation), erm.. mentions of sharing wine.. via the mouth.. in a lewd way

word count. 1.3k (done in a timestamp format)

8:00PM

the two of you found solace in italy, going there for vacations whenever zayne was granted his leave of absence.

with his money saved and ready to spend on you, he bought a secluded house surrounded by a lake and mountainous terrain. it was perfect, especially for a guy like zayne who wasn't entirely a fan of pda but liked the idea of it.

zayne catches you outside, lying on an armchair, drinking your wine as you watch the sun disappear into the freshwater body. your skin looked oh, so radiant as golden hour did its job. sun-kissed skin, plump lips sipping your wine and your eyes appeared lighter than usual thanks to the beaming light.

"started without me, i see? did you bring them?" you smile, craning your neck to look at the tall man behind you.

"mhm!" you pull out a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, taking a bite of one before handing the rest over to your boyfriend. taking them, he takes a seat in the chair beside you.

8:25PM

"c'mere," zayne's words came out in pants, his face damp with sweat while you were practically drowning in your own. the aphrodisiacs were finally kicking in.

smiling, you take a sip of your wine before leaning over to kiss him. zayne wastes no time in prodding your mouth with his tongue, the kiss getting sloppy unusually fast as you two share the small drops of wine between you.

you break the kiss to put down your glass of wine, turning your face away from his for just a moment. as you're about to turn back, you find zayne standing right in front of you, impatience riddling his core. he bends over, his hand grabbing your neck as his lips find yours again.

just as he's about to lift your shirt, a loud firework startles the both of you.

"oh, fuck-" you almost shout before laughing. the startled look on zayne's makes you swoon- his eyes wide as his mouth parts just slightly. he's just so cute! the man can only rest his head on your chest in a sulky manner as he tries to calm his heart. you had honestly scared him more than the fireworks did.

his sneaky hands still find their way under your shirt and on your tits in an attempt to save the mood- as well as for his own pleasure... and comfort.

but you just can't hold in your laugh as you replay the image of zayne almost shitting himself, "i'm so-sorry." you snicker. zayne sighs, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. your hand over was your mouth, cheekbones struggling to stay down as you just couldn't resist smiling. god, were you gorgeous.

8:30PM

"hm- fuck!" the atmosphere was no longer light-hearted. the sound of skin on skin with the distant drums of music and laughter from the festival across the lake could be heard.

zayne had you in full nelson. his thick cock bullying its way up into your cunt at a delicious speed. his cheeks were flushed red, lips bleeding as he broke the skin from biting it too much- too focused on pleasuring you. he also hopes that pounding you is enough for you to forget about the scare earlier.

the aphrodisiac fucking with your bodies gave you two an increased sense of pleasure, senses heightening as all he could think about was your pussy wrapped around his cock.

"fuck, you feel so good." he grunts. all you can do is helplessly moan as you look down at the sight before you. his cock was angled so right but zayne, not thinking straight, attempts to bottom out inside of you. he successfully does it... at your expense. holding you tighter, he pounds you, rapidly hitting your cervix a numerous amounts of time.

the pain makes you jolt as you hiss, tears welling, "zayne! fuck, it hurts! stop!"

zayne, himself, is startled. stopping his movements, he tends to you.

"are...are you alright?"

"fuck, zayne that really hurt. you know not to go that deep!" you pout, his dick still in you, deliciously filling you to the brim and deliciously filing your brain with him, your teary eyes severely dilated. he's not gonna lie, you saying that, especially with that face, made his dick twitch.

"fuck-baby. i'm sorry," he pants, "do you want to stop?"

"i wanna continue... just don't do it again," you mumble, a slight ache running through your body as you begin to ride his cock, your back facing him. moans start to build up again as the two of you continue to chase that high.

"hmm- d-does it feel good?" the sentence sounds borderline pornographic when you say it, chasing his validation. your thighs shake as zayne grabs your tits to squeeze, teeth biting at your collarbone as he lets you use him.

"mhm, so good, pretty girl. so good." he whispers even more praises by your ear, stumbling over most of his words considering he can't seem to keep a single notion in his head. the way you have him wrapped around your finger makes you smile and you lift yourself off of your lover to turn around and face him. you just had to see that pretty face before you came. sinking yourself back down on his cock, you speed up, the constant praises were doing wonders for your ego.

"mmphf- you're so pretty zayne. so pretty," you smile deliriously, " 'n i'm so happy i get to be with you-fuck!" your head finds its way to zayne's neck. diving nose first, you snuggle into him while his arms find their way around your waist, hugging you tight as he basks in the proximity.

"shit. are you close?" your thighs were beginning to burn but the way his burly cock jabbed at your spot, you couldn't let up- not when your orgasm was closely approaching.

zayne can only nod as his eyes roll back into his head. you were fucking him dumb. cunt clamping around his dick so deliciously.

"gonna-cum." your boyfriend chokes out, his hand reaching for your waist to lift you off him but you don't budge. shaking your head, you babble some words coherently while the others make no sense at all, "cum inside me. gimmeababy, please, fuck a baby up into me."

wasting no time, zayne attempts to meet your thrusts just enough so it doesn't hurt you again and instead coaxes both your highs with the utmost pleasure, his hands gripping your waist roughly.

"zayne, i'm cum-ming!" you cry out, nails digging into his collarbones and he follows right after you, spurting load after load inside of you, a whiny moan leaving him in the process as his evol malfunctions- frost covering his palm and your waist, specifically where his nails dug into. finally coming to your senses, blinking slowly, you feel the wet coldness, your body shivering despite the warm temperatures. looking down, you spot the transparent crystals sticking you to your boyfriend.

"zayne?" you whisper as you shudder. he hums, looking at you before he spots the crystals in the corner of his eyes. he stares at it, blinking once. twice. jolting up, he accidentally bucks his hips up into you, causing you both to hiss at the overstim, as he realizes what he was looking at was, in fact, real.

"shit, i'm sorry. you okay?" you nod, curiously poking at the crystals.

zayne closes his eyes in an attempt to relax, allowing the crystals to shrink in size before ultimately disappearing. he kisses your cheek, murmuring apologies as he runs his hand alongside your cold waist.

"you don't have to apologize... it's not you'll give me frostbite." you joke though zayne doesn't take it lightly, humming in response.

"happy valentines day, my love." zayne kisses your hand, his thumb rubbing it softly.

"mmm, happy valentines." you say drowsily, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

the two of you sit there, basking in the afterglow and silence as you watch the fireworks in the sky, cuddled up against each other.

with his cock still stuffing you full, of course!

note. dis shit late asl especially considering i wrote this so long ago, so sawry y'all! also the "fuck, zayne that really hurt." section kinda gave me ideas but i shan't speak on them. oh lawdy!

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #love and deepspace smut #l&ds #love & deepspace #lads #love & deepsace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #zayne x mc #zayne smut

[zayneslady]

hey!! loved that angst fic you wrote xx can i request the boys reaction to when the reader/mc and them are in an argument, and they accidentally said something extremely hurtful and it made reader cry. make the boys regret it so much pls hehe😼 thank you 💗

warnings: angst, open ending again hehe and again, reader is not MC

characters: Zayn, Xavier, Rafayel x reader (separately)

a/n: my first request *-* thank you so much! This exact trope is one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it! Get your tissues ready! Also thank you to everyone's support in my first post! I'm so happy! ❤️

Classification: scenarios

ZAYNE ❄️

You didn't want to admit it, but you were sick. During the day you felt a little sore in your throat and your nose was stuffy. Arriving at Zayne's house after work, it was more than obvious that you had a fever. Your face was red and the chills running through your body made you shiver. 

There was nothing else to do, you would miss work tomorrow to fully recover. Furthermore, with the care of your loving doctor, you knew you'd be fine in no time. So you quickly took a shower and after drying your hair, you grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch with a cold patch on your forehead, waiting for Zayne patiently. 

To your surprise, he arrived at a normal time and your heart vibrated with joy when you saw him enter. He had his head low as he stepped out of his shoes and closed the door behind him. 

"Zayne! Welcome back! How was your day?” You greeted him as he shrugged his coat off. “Guess what," you said, giggling softly because it was quite obvious by your funny voice that you were sick. "I got a little sick after yesterday's ra- 

You jumped a little when Zayne suddenly groaned, whipping his head up to look at you. “Oh my Lord,” he said, annoyed. “Can't you see I'm fucking tired? You do not know when you shut your damned mouth? I can't stand you! Why are you so clingy?” 

Your eyes widened and your face turned bright red. Your mind went blank and you didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Zayne's face changed from complete anger to guilt. He looked at you from the door as if he didn't know what had happened just now. He didn't recognize himself. How did he dare to talk to you like that when you-

He gasped softly, “you're sick.”

You tried to clean your tears with your hands as you got up from the couch. Zayne made an attempt to come close to you, but you quickly ran to the bedroom only to come back after a couple of minutes with your shoes and coat on. 

“Excuse me,” you said, as you approached the door. 

“What? Where are you going like this? You need to rest.”

You nodded, trying to keep some distance from him. “I know. I'll rest back home. So please move.”

“Stay here. I'll take care of you,” he grabbed your hand and more tears fell down. How could he talk so sweetly right now after what he said. 

You shook your head, pulling your hand away and pushing him aside so you could open the door. “I don't need you, Zayne. Not when you can't stand me.”

“I was wrong, please.”

“I was wrong too. Goodbye, Zayne.��

XAVIER ⭐

“My poor Xavier,” you mumbled, gently cleaning a wound in Xavier's side. You winced when he did and your heart broke. You knew perfectly well that this could happen because of his line of work, but you felt terrible every time he came home hurt. “Oh, Xav, is it too painful?” You asked as you started to bandage him. 

He shook his head, breathing heavily and resting his head against the pillow on his bed. “It could be worse. Thank you for helping out.” 

“No need to thank me,” you said, smiling at him as you placed a tender and loving hand over his now bandaged wound. “I wish you didn't have to do this. It's so dangerous.” 

Your words had no poison. You clearly didn't want Xavier to suffer in any way. Why couldn't he have a regular, safe job? Maybe he's just strong because he has to protect everyone. You said those words from the bottom of your warm heart, so you were more than surprised to hear Xavier's response:

“What? Are you saying I'm weak?” He spat and you blinked. 

“N-No! I'm just saying that I wish you had another job because- 

“Is that so? So you rather have a bunch of wanderers attacking innocent people? Just because you don't want me to get hurt?” 

“It's- It's not like that! I never said that. I just get worried sick for you and-

“Maybe I should really stop, huh? Just turn a blind eye to everything that's happening like egoist people like you di.”

He just kept vomiting out words, one harsher than the last. Every time you tried to speak and fix this misunderstanding, his irrational words drowned out your voice and it made something heavy and nauseating settle in your stomach. This was not going to end well in any way. 

“Xavier, my love, please listen to me. I do not- 

“Maybe one day a wanderer will actually kill you. And believe me, I won't even bat an eye at you,” he said, crossing his arms and turning his head away from you. 

Your eyes had never filled with tears as quickly as that moment. Your body began to shake with suppressed sobs as you felt heat and disappointment throughout your body. Did Xavier just... wish for your death? And in the hands of a creature as horrible as a wanderer? 

“Oh no,” he suddenly said and you flinched when you felt his touch against your cheek. “I am so, so sorry.” You cried a little harder before getting up from his bed. “W-Wait, my star. Please, I'm sorry.”

No words came out. You simply grabbed your bag and left the room.

He called your name and then groaned in pain as he tried to move. “Pl-please, come back! Where-

You couldn't hear more of his words as you closed the door of his apartment. Did this mean the end? You truly thought so. 

Rafayel 🐠

"Ah, welcome back, Rafayel!" The amount of excitement that rushed through your body whenever your eyes landed on him was almost overwhelming. It wasn't that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but a second without him felt like a century. 

His eyes, usually warm and sparkling, looked cold and even angry at seeing you in his house. "Hello," he said dryly as he closed the door behind him. You frowned slightly. "What are you doing here?" 

"Hmm, nothing much. I just wanted to visit you. Is that alright?" 

He sighed, placing a paper bag on the table. "Yeah, sure. I gave you a key after all."

You cleared your throat, nodding awkwardly. "Did... you have a good day?" 

He sighed again and shook his head as he stepped out of his shoes. "I didn't. It was terrible for the very first moment I opened my eyes. You see," he started and you nodded, listening carefully. "I overslept so I lost precious time for my painting. Then I didn't have time to eat so I didn't eat anything but a piece of bread."

You immediately got up to make dinner for him, maybe after eating he'd feel better? 

"And the worst thing was," he said, collapsing onto his couch. "I couldn't find my emerald green paint so I had to go all the way to the art store and get a new one! Ugh!" 

You blinked, frowning a little. "Your emerald green?" 

"That's what I said."

"Hmm, I'm very sure I put it in all of your greens?" You left the ingredients aside as you walked to the paints. "Here it is." 

He got up and looked at you with an astonished expression. Confusion quickly turned into anger and he was yelling at you in a second. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You saw me last night!" You explained, carefully leaving the paint back in place. "You said you wanted your paints to be more organized and I asked you if I could help you out! You even told me you liked how I organized it by colors!" 

Rafayel let out a frustrated sigh as a hand carded through his hair. "I can't believe I just lost all of that precious time because of your stupid mistake!"

"Excuse me?"

"Every time you try to help, you just mess things up! Can't you keep your little hands to yourself for once? I was just stupid for letting you help me out! You are way too much, I can't stand you sometimes.”

You were stunned. He had never said anything like that about you, you couldn't even remember other times when you wanted to help him and you ruined it. Besides, it wasn't your fault. The green paint was there all along and he just hadn't taken the time to look for it properly.

You knew it wasn't your fault, but his harsh words and the anger and hatred in his eyes were too much. Tears quickly filled your eyes and began to fall down your reddened cheeks. 

Rafayel realized his mistake a bit too late. Letting out a gasp as he watched the first tear fall, he hurriedly approached you, but you backed away, putting space between the two of you. He couldn't say anything, too surprised by his own words.

What was just a moment seemed like minutes, endless hours with deafening silence. Only your sobs echoed around the entire house, until your voice, small and trembling, made him jump. 

“I won't touch your stuff again, Rafayel,” you said softly, avoiding his eyes. 

“N-No, I didn't mean-

You nod, “if you don't mind, I'll sleep in your guest room. Goodnight, Rafayel.”

Deep inside you so desperately wanted him to stop you, but he watched you disappear into the hall and never called you back.

You knew it was going to be a very cold night.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace Rafayel #love and deepspace scenarios #zaynslady #*scenarios

[gay-dorito-dust]

Love and deepspace boy getting you back for touching their butt when theyre angry and turn away from you pls (I hope you know what I mean)

Honestly had no idea what Xavier would do in retaliation, so I kinda just skipped him. Plus I didn’t want any of them sounding repetitive of each other and that I couldn’t think of anything…

Rafayel

‘I’m not just gonna grow a tail, even if you touch it over and over again.’ He muttered after you smacked his ass, pouting as he rubbing his backside as though you bruised him with your playful swat.

You scoffed, he always acted as though that any form of activity would make him bruise like a peach but when in reality he was just being extremely dramatic; so basically being himself.

So when he began to ignore you shortly after the incident, you weren’t at all shocked nor were you worried as in the end Rafayel always tended to be the one to come crawling back for your affection and attention; you often joked that he couldn’t last a day without pestering you with text and voice messages, attempted FaceTime calls and calls in general and needless to say he took that as a personal challenge but failed just under a record breaking five seconds into it.

However this felt a lot different then to the other times he’s ’ignored’ you.

He was scheming and you were rightfully skeptical.

One day, you had grown bored of his recent antics that you started to head towards the front door and were just about to leave when something caught the corner of your eye; a discarded paintbrush. ‘What the-‘ you sighed before marching over to pick it up, less then amused. ‘I swear I’ll have to get on Raf’s ass for leaving his shit lying about sooner or later because one day someone’s going to get hurt-‘

SMACK

You looked over your shoulder to see a smirking Rafayel and everything started to come together for you.

‘You just smacked my ass.’

‘Yep.’ Rafayel replied, almost as if feeling accomplished.

‘But did you have to do it that fucking hard?’ You complained as you were now the one pouting and rubbing your sore backside as though you were an easily bruised peach.

Rafayel shrugged. ‘You did it to me first, so-‘

‘Yeah but I didn’t smack you nearly as hard as you did just now.’ You cut him off before muttering to yourself. ‘That’s gonna bruise and make sitting down a whole lot harder. Thanks for that.’

Rafayel pretended as though he didn’t hear you and moved past you to pick up the paint brush with a look upon his face as though he had been searching all over his impressive studio for awhile, pocketing it not long after. ‘Aww that must really suck, for you that is, hope you’ve got an excuse on hand for the instance that someone takes notice and starts asking questions.’ He then gave you a look of false sympathy, patting you on the shoulder before leaving you to focus on his latest painting.

You fucking hated him sometimes but couldn’t help but love him twice as hard for his stupid antics that you secretly adore.

Zayne aka ‘mr surgical knots.’

‘Is this really necessary?’ You grunt as you tried to break your hands free from the knot that was currently keeping your hands bound together.

‘Consider it a precaution for your,’ Zayne pauses to watch you struggle before continuing, ‘wandering hands.’

You chuckled humourlessly as you decided that it was hopeless in trying to get your hands untied, Zayne had done an excellent job in making sure that the knot was strong enough to keep your hands restrained but yet not tight enough to cause discomfort to your skin. ‘all this just because I might’ve touched your ass?’ You asked rhetorically, gauging at how his ears became red at the memory, before his evol kicked in and cooled his temperature significantly. ‘Seems a little excessive if you ask me but then again…it’s not exactly the worst punishment you could’ve come up with.’ You drawled, causing one of Zayne’s brows to raise in question.

‘So you find your current predicament to be…pleasurable?’ He inquires as he steps closer to you, making sure that he took his sweet time to admire his work and make internal pointers on how he could improve for instances where he maybe in need to use this certain knot again.

‘I mean you’re the one that’s putting words in my mouth.’ You replied, shrugging your shoulders,fully aware what this attitude of yours would bring should you keep it up.

Zayne’s jaw twitched unseeingly, he knew what you were doing and also knew that you were blatantly aware of what you were doing and so he tears this theory out by reaching a hand out, grabbing you by the restraint and swiftly pulled you closer to him until your chests were practically touching. Your eyes flickered to every inch of his face to see any signs but nothing; His face was still perfectly set in stone as it usually aside from his eyes, his eyes were glittering with an unusual look to them as they peered at you, that you couldn’t help but feel a little hot and flustered under such a unique gaze.

He then leans his head towards your ear and whispers in a low falsetto, ‘Would you like to find out just how pleasurable being tied can be?’ He drawls softly. ‘I can happily show you and help you get closely acquainted with human anatomy.’

#love and deepspace imagine #love and deepace imagines #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x you #rafayel x reader #Rafayel imagine #Rafayel imagines #zayne imagine #zayne imagines #zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace

[stylesharrys]

Knight in Skinny Jeans

Y/N gets stood up and Harry is her knight in skinny jeans and a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt.

A/N: this is an old patron exclusive fic guys, it is more of a little lengthy blurb but it's something for just you guys! this also has Zayn in it I miss him :(

WC: 2k

//

In all her years of life, Y/N’s only ever been hauntingly afraid of one thing. Spiders and bugs have never bothered her, and even as a child, she didn’t mind the dark. She seeks comfort in thunderstorms and welcomes the rush of adrenaline when she stands at great heights. She’s not afraid of much, but there’s one thing that makes her wish the ground would swallow her whole.

In retro respect, she supposes it wasn’t the best idea to agree to meet him at the restaurant. And looking back now, she guesses making as much as an effort would only get her hurt.

It doesn’t change where she is now, though—tucked away in the booth with a half-empty glass of water and a grumbling belly. And let’s not forget the overwhelming sense of nausea in the pit of her stomach.

Embarrassment. That’s Y/N’s biggest fear.

Y/N supposes it stems somewhere deep in her childhood, where a traumatising memory takes place that her mind has blocked from remembering.

She’s been stood up. Plain and simple.

He’s over an hour late and not replying to her texts, so she thinks she gets the message.

Y/N feels a little sick. Her hands are clammy, and she can’t seem to stop her knee from bouncing under the table. She gnaws her bottom lip raw, and her eyes are scatty as she gazes over other guests in hopes they’re not all looking at her and realise what’s going on.

She’s never been stood up before, and in a classy restaurant such as she’s in now, dressed to the nines, it only makes matters worse. If she stands up and walks out, everyone will know she’s been stood up. But she can’t sit and wait around, either.

Y/N feels like they already know—like they’re snickering under their breaths and all eyes are on her.

She’s wrong. No one has noticed yet, and she needs to get out of the damn booth before another waiter comes over with a pitty-filled smile and asks if she’d like to order or not.

Maybe she’s lucky her tea dress can be considered a little casual, and perhaps if she plays her cards right and leaves smiling, people may think she’s left early from dinner with a group of friends.

Y/N knows she shouldn’t be overthinking it this much, but she is. Her chest and neck feel hot with heat, and her eyes are prickling with tears as her nose starts to tingle. She needs to get out of here.

Y/N clears her throat and reaches for her little purse, standing and evening out her outfit. She’s put the bag over her shoulder as she manoeuvres through dim, candle-lit tables to make for the restroom.

She tries to keep a light smile on her face when she brushes past a brisk waiter before pushing into the toilets. It’s empty inside, the harsh lights reflecting over her and highlighting her most unattractive features. She closes the door and makes for the line of sinks, a long mirror coating the wall behind them.

Y/N lets out a shaky breath and braces herself against the counter. She can feel her eyes starting to water, the way she loses control, and her lower lip begins to tremble. She can feel the way her knees start to buckle, how her head grows fuzzy, and everything becomes too much.

She feels stupid. How could she believe she had a chance with someone like Daniel fucking Morell? The idea of seeing him again in class next week is disgusting to her. So much so that she starts to wonder if it’s too late to change her major completely.

Boys are horrible.

Y/N takes another deep breath and stands taller. She straightens her back and plasters on her most believable smile. Her theory is: if nobody sees her sad, how can they have pity?

With her shoulders held high, Y/N pushes her way out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. She walks with ease, lets people believe the glimmer in her eyes is pure happiness and confidence. She doesn’t let them look long enough to realise they’re tears of overwhelming sadness and embarrassment.

She knows she’ll cry the night out when she gets back to the safety of her dorm room.

Y/N doesn’t spare anyone another glance before she pushes out the glass doors of the expensive restaurant and it’s when the cold air of the splintering night hits her, that she feels the heaviness of the situation sit heavy on her shoulders.

She was finally asked on a date by one of the most popular boys on campus -- the boy she’s been crushing on for the longest time -- the boy that they all know is well out of her league. And he stood her up, plain and simple. He told her he’d meet her at the restaurant, and then he ignored her texts.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she rounded the corner and found him and his friends waiting for her just to sit and point and laugh.

Stupid, Y/N. Stupid!

It’s pretty quiet outside (save for a few girls to her left that she briefly recognises from school, and a couple is waiting for a taxi to her right).

She reaches into her purse for her phone, reckons she’ll just call a taxi rather than walking a mile and a half home. The cold air bites at Y/N’s skin, and she’s a shivering mess of nerves and anxiety. She feels naked; like everyone knows she was just stood up.

She needs to stop caring so much what people think.

But it’s when she’s typing away at the Uber app that the girls from moments ago approach her. Y/N looks up from her phone, brows raised slightly and while they all seem vaguely familiar, she doesn’t recall any of their names.

“Y/N, right? We share Mr Harris’ class on Thursdays.”

She’s pretty, Y/N acknowledges. Soft brown hair and gorgeous tan skin. She’s got lean legs and a cute button nose -- captivating brown eyes and if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s incredibly intimidating, Y/N thinks she could quickly develop a bit of a crush on the unnamed girl.

Y/N nods. “Yeah. I don’t know your names, though…” she eases off with a gentle chuckle -- one that suggests discomfort but neither of the other three girls say anything.

They shrug her off, waving their hands with a dismissive headshake. “Doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?” The same girl from before speaks again, and Y/N can feel that lump bubbling up her throat.

Her voice has grown louder as she asks the question and Y/N knows she’s about to be outed for being stood up. She doesn’t look around her; she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she pretends her face and neck aren’t scorched burnt and keeps that unconvincing smile on her face.

She doesn’t realise that the loudness of their tone catches the attention of a certain boy that also happens to attend the same college and share a fair few classes with all four girls.

Harry’s brows knit together as he passes off the lit cigarette to another of his friends. They’ve just left the pub, and he’s a few beers under, but if anything, he only feels more aware of his surroundings. He strains his ears to listen in, can already gather something’s going on.

Y/N’s back is toward the group of them, and all Harry can see is the smug grin on Chelsey’s face. He grimaces. She’s always been a cunt. But then he sees her lips move.

“Where’s your date? You’re not here alone… are you?”

Harry doesn’t bother to tell his friends he’ll be right back. Instead, he palms off his drink to Zayn and exhales the last puff of smoke he didn’t realise he was holding in. There was no way in hell he was about to let Chelsey and her two minions gang up on some (no doubt) innocent and nice enough girl.

His feet kick over to them. He sees the back of Y/N’s head, but he doesn’t recognise her from the position. Her hair is down, she’s got on a pretty tea dress with black tights and some little black booties. Even from a few feet away, Harry can see she’s shivering and cowering into herself.

He takes a deep breath and shrugs off his jacket, leaving him bare to the cold air in just a pair of skinny jeans and his old Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. He approaches the four of them, and Chelsey clocks him first, but he takes no notice.

“Sorry babe, boys were taking ages.” His raspy voice is what has Y/N turning around and Harry’s setting his jacket across her shoulders and pulling her into him.

She looks up, completely bewildered but when she recognises him, she relaxes just a little. She knows Harry from classes, and she’s worked a project or two with him before. They’re friendly, sure, but she’s confused as to why he’d willingly save her off his own back.

She feigns a warm smile, though it’s half genuine. She thinks he’s her knight in skinny jeans.

Harry smiles down at her just the same, and he finally recognises who it is he’s saved and he’s a little surprised. He didn’t peg Y/N to be the type of girl to be stood up. Harry reckons she’s a pretty cool girl; kind and funny, super-smart, too. And she looks extra pretty, now he’s really looking at her.

He can tell she’s made an effort for her date tonight and the fact that she’s been stood up makes him a little agitated.

“S’okay. Know how they can be.”

Y/N plays into it leisurely, coddling into his side. She sets a hand on his chest as she rubs over his left peck and Harry chances it to reach down to give her a tender kiss to the top of her head.

He finally addresses the girls.

“What we chattin’ about?” He stuffs a hand in his pocket and bites back a laugh at the look of pure disgust on Chelsey’s face.

She scoffs to herself, but Y/N doesn’t give her a chance to say anything. “They were just making sure I had a lift home. Girls looking out for girls, just like we should.”

Harry knows Y/N’s lying through her teeth, but he doesn’t say anything -- decides to nod and play along. He hums. “Hate to cut it short then, but the boys are gonna go to The Napier. D’ya fancy goin’ or d’ya jus’ wanna go home? S’whatever you want, love.”

She stares at him for a moment, ponders what he’s offering. Harry hopes she gets the hint that he’s actually offering, that if she doesn’t want to come, he’ll get her an Uber home. Y/N hopes that’s exactly what he’s doing, and she can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s actually offering.

“The Napier sounds good to me.” Y/N grins wide, snuggling into his side and Harry says nothing about how fast her heart is pounding against the side of his ribs.

She’s thankful, knees nearly buckling that he came and saved her, and she reckons she could actually cry. She turns back to the girls, ignores the tingly of her nose. “Thanks for checking in girls. I’ll see you Thursday?”

They don’t have the chance to reply because Harry is pulling Y/N away and toward his small group of friends, and Zayn has been watching the whole thing with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N finally breathes out in relief. Harry’s arm is still thrown over her shoulder, so he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t mention it. Have a few drinks wi’ us and forget ’bout whoever stood ya up. He’s a knob anyway, doesn’t deserve a good girl like you.” Harry kisses the top of her head again, and Y/N all but melts into his touch.

“I’ll be your date tonight instead.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagines

[kartificialdreams]

Doctor

Honestly, I didn’t even know how I ended up in this position. One minute I’m being reprimanded by my doctor about how I need to stop stressing my heart out. The next we’re sharing a heated kiss, sitting on his desk, fingers locked in his hair and hoping it doesn’t end.

He starts kissing down my neck, his hands gliding up and down my waist. I press myself further into him, not wanting any space between us.

“This probably isn’t helping to relaxing your heart.” I hear him mumble, his voice vibrating through my neck and a chill runs through me.

“Why don’t we check doctor?”

My fingers clumsily patting around to find his stethoscope. Instead of handing it to him I place then in his ears and hold it to my heart.

“Mm, just as I thought, an accelerated heartbeat. Should we calm it?” He smirks.

Whether he’s joking or not I don’t want to. Not when everything I want is right in front of me. Especially not when after all these years everything I’ve held back is spilling out. I whisper a quick ‘no’ before connecting our lips again.

“We have to be quick, I have a surgery in 30 minutes. Shouldn’t be a problem, I am quite skilled.” He smirks as he quickly pulls my skirt up, panties moved to the side.

I help free him from his belt, finally getting to what I want the most. Finally seeing his dick, I moan at the thought of it filling me up. Guess it’s true what they say, it’s always the tall quiet ones. He aligns himself with me, a groan leaving him.

“Zayne, please. Don’t tease, not now.” I whine, kissing his neck.

“I got you, just be patient my love.” The term of endearment does more to me than I’m willing to let on.

Finally, the sensation of being filled floods my senses. Immediately I roll my eyes back, falling back on his desk as he slowly thrusts.

“Fuck, Zayne. Feels so good.”

I feel his hand wrap around my throat, pulling me back to him.

“I want you as close as possible.”

His thrust pick up speed, I squeeze around him causing a soft ‘fuck’ to fall from him. His string hands hold me in place as I unbutton his shirt, and start kissing his chest. His hand moves further down, thumb catching my clit and slowly moves in a ‘Z’ motion. Pants and groans can be heard through the room, though I guess it’s a good thing his walls aren’t thin.

“Fuck you’re a dream, never thought I’d see the day I get to fuck you.” He kisses me, a somewhat messy and passionate kiss. “Do you know how many times I thought about you, about this exact fantasy? I’ve craved you for so long.”

His words send pleasure coursing through my being. I latch on to him tighter, my release vastly approaching.

“I do, I’ve had the same thoughts. All the times we spent together. Only you.”

He groans, “say it again, that it’s only me.”

“Only you, Zayne, always you.” My pants now turning into desperate whines as I feel my orgasm ready to burst.

“Gonna cum, you’re squeezing me so nicely, let it out. Give it to me.” He kisses me, mouth shutting any loud cries up.

I cum, biting his lip as I do. A few more thrusts and Zayne empties himself in me, groans leaving him. His beautiful eyes stare lovingly into mine. He kisses me passionately, his hands cradling my face as he does. Cloud 9 doesn’t begin to describe how I feel.

“Doctor? Your patient is prepped and ready when you are!” Comes a nurses voice.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Zayne pulls out, whines leaving us as he does so. He starts to dress himself in new clothes.

“I have to go now but wait for me at your place. I’ll make dinner, most importantly…” he leans down to my ear, “I’ll show you just how loudly I can make you scream my name.”

Those words reignite the fire inside me.

“I’ll hold you to it, Doctor.”

#love and deepspace #lads #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut #love & deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne #lnd zayne #l&ds zayne #dr zayne

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

tsc thoughts while reading (beware of spoilers) starting with -

david wymack my fucking beloved

also i never rlly liked/cared for thea but her scene with jean and her nickname for him was cute

chapter 3 thoughts:

jeremy being in awe of neil and the foxes is giving me life

fanfics with alvarez in them gonna go crazy now that we actually have a first name for her (and don’t have to invent one)

oh they rich rich (in reference to jeremy’s family butler?!)

jerejean first interaction!!!!

chapter 4:

omg sunshine court mentioned

having the sudden realisation that i can never read fanfics that have jean’s perspective or anything about the how the ravens work, raven!neil/aftermath of the kings men in the same way again

my neighbours are having a party and while i’m loving the music and absolutely jealous i’m not there, it’s really distracting me from reading

ngl i rlly miss neil and andrew and the foxes please let me see my family soon

‘ what you hold onto is less important than the act of holding on itself’ nora sakavic shut the fuck up you philosophical genius i’m gonna cry this is so real to me

renee i love u

WIT WTF JEAN IS NINETEEN I DIDNT KNOW THAT OH MY GOD BABY HE JOINED THE RAVEN LINEUP AT SIXTEEN WTF

i’m drinking red wine while reading and i think that’s appropriate… also i’m listening to that jean moreau playlist someone made and it’s mega depressing https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5zlPt63Ap0AjJQ1Ff5OKrd?si=75oEzLE8SO-bfJwewM8Evw&pi=a-ge04jIlVTJGY

this is so funny to only me but i’ve been hyperfixating on one direction again and zayn just dropped new music so everytime i read about jean’s raven roomate zane i think of one direction and confused myself a bit about what fandom i’m reading rn

fuck riko u sick fucking fuck u put jean into a box with a singular hole for air and left him to die u fucking cunt

KEVIN ASKING JEAN TO PROMISE NOT TO KILL HIMSELF AFTER NORA WROTE COUNTLESS DRAFTS IN WHICH JEAN KILLED HIMSELF WHILE ON THE PHONE TO KEVIN AND THE ONLY TIME SHE DIDNT KILL JEAN OFF IS THE VERSION SHE PUBLISHED AND THE REASON WE GET TO HEAR HIS STORY TODAY IM SO BROKEN

jean’s ‘gift’ from the ravens with his broken magnets, blacked out postcards and angry letters is making me cry he deserves so much better

slowly realising that this book is gonna be super triggering lol whoops

a cool evening breeze 🥲

THAT CREEPY LITTLE GOALKEEPER IS MY FAVOURITE GUY OK

‘kevin saw nothingn but the court, but jean had stopped hoping for more than that years ago’ shut the fuckkkk uppppp i cant do this anymore kevin/jean relationship is so deeply important to me (i say this about everything)

chapter 5:

SECOND NEIL/ JEAN INTERACTION OF THE BOOK IM SO FUCKING EXCITED

‘of course it’d be you, you tedious malcontent’ ‘good morning to you too’ is so ‘morning sunshine’ ‘fuck you’ coded (neil and matt bromance confirmed)

the amount of mitski on this jean playlist is making me sick

FUCKING SCREAMING OMFG THIS IS THE JEAN/NEIL CONTENT I YEARN FOR

‘abominable cockroach’ aww jean u say the sweetest things 🥰❤️ neil loves u too babe

literally devouring every last scrap of information jean feeds us about neil - his slow, hungry, hateful smile and the madness in his eyes (neil baby i love u never change)

oh jean don’t diss aaron, do u know how many fanfics have been written about u two

tsc is confirmation that jean moreau will come into ur house and judge u based on the contents of ur fridge (and then throw out ur stash of lollies)

‘to have a real match as a palate cleanser’ jean is really trying to win my favour by borrowing neil’s sassiness huh (no wonder i love them so much together) ((and yes i know he’s BEEN sassy ok))

jean reaching for the tv screen as if he could save neil and describing andrew running for neil as if hell was on his heels is making me absolutely giddy idk whether to scream or cry i’m doing both and i’m giggling

I bet on losing dogs is so jean moreau coded omg

holy fuck nora, the moments after the raven/fox match when riko tries to kill neil is fucking amazingly written. reading from jean’s perspective as he watches the game on tv, the tension, the breathless anxiety and confusion of the scene is palpable i coukd fucking taste it, my chest is tight just reading it

JEAN SAYING ANDREW WILL BE COURT IS IMMACULATE

#tsc #the sunshine court #jean moreau #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #neil josten #andreil #andrew minyard #palmetto state foxes #kevin day #jeremy knox #usc trojans #nora sakavic #tsc spoilers

[horrorhot-line]

rafayel's nsfw alphabet

➵ pairing: rafayel x female!reader

➵ word count: 3.3k

➵ genre: nsfw

➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. slight exhibitionism, sex toys, edging, blindfolding, handcuffs, overstimulation, somnophilia, praise kink, bondage.

➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.

➵ xavier's ver. | zayne’s ver.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

notes: this one's for you @jaiden-zhou, i was gonna take a break and post these later, but your reblog asking for rafayel and zayne's version meant i got to work right away. hope you enjoy <3333

credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) he loves talking after sex. most would get tired after the extracurricular activities, you included, but not rafayel. he loves picking your brain about anything and everything. still semi inside you, lazily thrusting into you as he empties the last of his cum inside you, trailing kisses across your face as he asks you where you'd want to go if the two of you went travelling. he won't admit it, ever- but he does it because he's realised it's when you're the most honest, spent and cheeks still flushed after your orgasms, still delirious after he's fucked the living daylights out of you. he will also never admit, he doesn't want to fall asleep and running his mouth makes sure of that, he doesn't want to risk you leaving him again. "what do you think about the city of love? i'd love to fuck you in paris."

➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he adores your body, you know this, but his absolute favourite part of you is your eyes. no matter how many lifetimes he's spent waiting for you, your eyes are always the same, soft, shining and focused only on him. he loves fucking you, starting off slow as his pelvis collides with your clit and has you seeing stars, he loves the way your gaze focuses on him when he's thrusting into you, pulling out ever so slightly only to snap his hips back into yours. and fuck, does he love the way he gets to watch your eyes roll back. his favourite part about himself is his dick, pretty self-explanatory. he loves the way you tell him his cock is perfect as he fucks into you, pressing the rough of his thumb against your clit as you throw your head back. "you look so pretty like this, drooling all cause of my cock."

➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) he may have asked if he could use your cum as paint once, promising he'll never let anyone else see his creation apart from you. rafayel loves shoving his cum back inside you when it leaks out, plugging you up with his fingers as he makes sure you don't waste a single drop, ignoring the way you look like absolute sin with tears of overstimulation in your eyes. though, he can't ignore the way his dick hardens again at the way you glow after you've orgasmed, thighs wet with slick and looking so inviting, "one more round? come on, i know you can cum again- do it for me."

➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) if you hadn't guessed it already, rafayel lives for validation- your validation. he'll never admit it; he doesn't want to bruise his ego by telling you how much he likes hearing you whimper and moan. he loves when he first puts his dick inside you, grabbing the hand that reaches out to place itself on his stomach as you struggle to take him in, and he raises that same hand above your head so he can plug your slick pussy with his cock. "ah, ah, ah- you wanted this, can't back out now. instead of trying to stop, why don't you tell me how good my dick feels, hm?"

➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he knows his way around, he's watched enough porn when he was researching for an art project of his. the real thing is different though, and he realises that when you're under him, spreading your legs for him, and he finds no matter how hard he tries, you're pussy is just too good. the first round is always quick, but he knows how to work his fingers and his tongue, making sure you cum more times than he can count before he's ready to go again, forcing your legs apart as he raises his top and bites down on it, watching how his dick enters you. "lost for words? why don't you start off by telling me how good i feel?"

➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) this is a hard one for him, but if he had to choose it would definitely be cow girl. the sight of you riding his dick so well, struggling to take him in, sweat lining your bodies as he grips your tit and watches the other one bounce. he loves the way you lower your chest to his after a few minutes, legs aching, letting him know he can take over. he manages to hit all your sweet spots in this position too, and there's no escape for you as he wraps his arms around you, angling his hips to fuck into you, making sure you feel his tip against your cervix. "tired already? if you wanted me to take over, my love- all you had to do was ask."

➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he knows how to be serious, but if there's a queef, he'll laugh. how can you expect him not to? that, and he likes catching you off gaurd, because when you join him, giggling at his antics, he snaps his hips into yours, setting a brutal pace that has you struggling to catch your breath. "what? you not gonna laugh, anymore? no? didn't think so."

➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's always well-groomed. always clean-shaven and there's never a stubble that gives you carpet burn, because he likes to stay on top of it. he wants you to focus on the feel of his dick inside you and nothing else when he's pounding your wet cunt. he treats his body like a temple, basically. "i wanna look good for myself. it has nothing to do with you." (it does.)

➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) rafayel acts like he doesn't care about being romantic, but he does. when he's not salty about how you make him wait, he gives you the best treatment, always eating you out first, fingering you until you can't take anymore, begging for him to fill you up with his cock, which he does, rubbing your clit as he rolls his hips into yours, making sure you remember the way his dick feels buried deep inside you. he always makes sure you finish, and he likes to admire the artwork in front of him one he's done, you laying flushed beneath him, lips parted, breathing heavily and still twitching. "you look so pretty when i'm through with you. hey, can i draw you like this? no? just one quick sketch, please…"

➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) you make him horny 24/7, even when you're not around. he'll be in his studio, casually painting and lounging when you pop into his head, and his mind will drift to all the times you've been underneath him. by the time you've come home to him, he's a needy mess, flushed, dick in his hand already leaking precum as he begs you to help him out because he's been edging himself for hours, waiting for you. "please, my love. i need you."

➵ k for kink (one or more of their kinks) what kinks does he not have? he has a huge praise kink, that's for sure. loves it when you get vocal and tell him how good he feels, how he's too deep and that it's too much, he loves watching you struggle to take him all in, slamming the last few inches in just so he can hear you sob. he's also a huge fan of overstimulation; he loves pushing you past your limits, watching you become a mess as he squeezes out another orgasm with his fingers. he's into bondage too, something about the idea of you being all tied up, looking pretty for him, helpless to what he has in store for you. he's a bit of a switch, too- he loves you taking control when you've had enough of his teasing just so he can roll you over and force you to take his dick. he also adores watching you use him, making yourself feel good with his cock. "you gonna cum, baby? feel good? who knew you'd love my dick this much?"

➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) he's a bit of an exhibitionist, reckons it comes with the job description of being an artist. so, he likes it anywhere as long as it's you. he has a list of places he'd love to dick you down at, but his favourite would be his art studio. you're his muse, what gives his paintings colour and life, and he loves spreading you across his desk, raising your hips off the table so he can snap his hips into you only to imagine the same scenario as he starts his new piece. he also loves the beach; something about being close to home, the waves around your feet and hands as he bends you over, lifting you by the arm so you're body's flush against his, calloused fingers reaching for your clit. he loves the way he can feel the water against his thighs as you throw your head back against his shoulder, and he can watch your lovely fucked out expression. "told you the sea was warm during the summer. having fun, baby?"

➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) just thinking about it gets him horny; you know this already. it doesn't matter where the two of you are, he will borrow your hole to empty his load, whining and teasing you until you give in, finding the nearest secluded place before pulling his pants down and sliding your panties to the side. you have this effect on him, he can't control himself, and he blames you for it, something he lets you know often as he fucks you from behind, grabbing your tit in one hand, arm under your shoulder and across your chest to lock you in place so you can't run, "it's all your fault for turning me on. that means it's your responsibility to help me out."

➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) he calls you 'my love.' a lot- something about your heart being his. he likes calling you his, repeating the words "mine, mine, mine." as he's fucking into you before his lips latch onto yours, swallowing your moans and desperate cries. he does like to use babe when he's teasing you or being mean as payback for you making him wait, rubbing your swollen clit, grabbing the wrist that reaches out to stop him as he rolls his hips into yours, "come on babe, i know you have more left in you. cum one more time for me- yeah?"

➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he loves receiving but will never pester you for it. he'll ask, but if you say no, then so be it. when you do agree, though, he'll shove himself as deep as he can go, hissing as his tip kisses the back of your throat, running his fingers through your hair before wiping away the stray tear going down the side of your temple, smiling down at you as he reaches over to plug his fingers in your pussy, stretching you out as you choke on his dick. "don't cry, my love. save your tears for when i fill you up. not long now, i know you can do it."

➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) he's not slow, but he is sensual. setting a brutal pace that has you falling off the edge and clenching your thighs as your orgasm hits you, before slowing down his thrusts and taking his time, letting you ride out your high before he's fucking into you again, squeezing your ass and moving you up and down his dick so his cock reaches the deepest it can inside you. "you're mine, yeah? fuck, you're so tight. 'm gonna cum inside you."

➵ q for quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) yes, the answer is yes anytime that word is used in a sentence. he'll wait for you to initiate unless you make him horny, which is more often than not- he loves subtly teasing you, hands finding their way into your panties underneath tables, fingers tracing your hips, feather-light touches across your thighs to let you know he needs you, leading you to wherever's semi-decent before he's shoving your clothes aside, bending you over and kicking your legs apart so he can fuck you until he's satisfied. "you're gonna have to cover again with thomas for me, babe. this is all you, you know? wearing those thigh highs- thinking i wouldn't react."

➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) definitely game to experiment, he adores finding new ways to pull reactions out of you. the first time he tried fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold on you, he swore it was the hardest he'd ever been. he was in awe, starstruck, watching you twitch at the slightest touch, looking all pretty and helpless. you were at his mercy, and it made his cock twitch. the wait was worth it, though- after he was done using his fingers to push you over the edge enough times, he lined himself up with your pussy, and hissed at the way he slid right in. buried completely inside you, he held your hips up as he started fucking you, realising you were louder when your sight was covered. "who knew you'd like being used? since you enjoy it so much, why don't we do this more often?"

➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) you usually lose track after the 7th to 8th round, mind blank after he's pulled another orgasm from you, towering over your spent body, a smug smile on his face as he pulls his dick out of you, slapping it against your slick pussy a few times, before shoving it back in completely, with no warning. he will quite literally fuck you until you pass out. "come on, babe. keep your eyes open, and on me- i know you can go one more round."

➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he owns quite a few, most are in the first drawer of his bedside table, the others are scattered across his mansion. he likes buying them to see how you react, keeping the ones you enjoy the most. his favourites are the ones that focus on your clit, he loves fucking you when he uses them, feeling your pussy spasm around him as you cum again. he does own a pussy pocket and uses it often when you're away. also, he's definitely asked if he can have one moulded to the shape of your cunt specifically.

➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) he's very unfair, often teasing you as payback for all the years you've made him wait for you, thumb hovering over your clit as he stops you from orgasming, halting his thrusts as he watches you try and grind against his dick. he turns your head to him and kisses you, mouth swallowing your complaints and sobs as he watches you twitch from overstimulation. he breaks the kiss only to fuck into you nice and slow, building up the pace before he's slamming into you from behind, arms wrapping around you when you try to crawl away from him with how sensitive you are. "what now, my love? you can't move, poor thing. try and escape me this time."

➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he loves being vocal, letting you know just how good you feel as he manages to stuff his dick in your tight cunt, tip kissing your cervix as you double over at the feeling of being so full. he'll pull you right back up against his chest, not letting you catch your breath as he starts fucking into you, fingers flicking your hardened nipples, hands squeezing your tits as he moans in your ear. doesn't help that he sounds like pure sin, and his moans alone have you tightening around his cock. "fuuuck, you have no idea how good you feel. you're so wet, baby… feeling good? yeah? i know i am."

➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) you agree to it after he gives you the pros and cons, and find that he uses it every chance he gets. you didn't expect this out of him, but this man really wants to fuck you in your sleep. just something about the idea of having his way with you when you're not conscious. that, and he gets horny during the night and doesn't wanna wake you just to fuck you. he'd much rather finger you until you're ready to take him, stirring in your sleep but not fully awake as he rubs his dick along your pussy, using your slick to lube himself up before he's lining himself up and shoving his dick in, inch by inch. he'll rolls his hips experimentally, and moan softly in your ear. he waits for you to wake up, dazed and disoriented as your brain catches up, before he slams his dick completely into you, not giving your confused mind the chance to register your arousal as he starts rubbing your clit, teasing an orgasm out of you the minute you're up. "there she is. how'd you like your wake-up call, babe?"

➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) his dick is perfect, no, really. it is the most gorgeous dick you have ever seen, not a hair in sight, and his tip is the prettiest pink colour, all flushed from how turned on he gets because of you. he's circumcised, hates the idea of his penis ever getting dirty or smelling, that- and he reckons it makes it easier for you to suck him off. he has length and girth, not too big that it hurts but enough that you can feel him in your gut when he's inside you.

➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) very high, no matter how many times he fucks you, he can never get enough. rafayel loves the feel of your pussy, maybe more than the feel of a paintbrush in his hand when he has newfound motivation to finish a project, and he enjoys having his way with you whenever he wants. if he's ready to go, it means you'll soon follow. you can't refuse him when his touch trails across your bare skin, hands down your panties and fingers shoved two digits deep inside you, teasing and edging you until you give in to his need to fuck. "you can't blame me- it's your fault for looking so pretty, all fucked up like this. 'm gonna mark you up, let everyone know you're mine."

➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards) he wants to fall asleep right after he's done with you, having spent most of his energy fucking you until you're leaking his cum all over the bed sheets, but he likes staying awake until you pass out, idle talk lulling you to slumber as he brushes your hair out your face and behind your ear, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest before he pulls you into his arms and rests his cheek against your tits. "you're asleep already? …i love you."

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #smut

[whitemancumslut]

REQUEST ALWAYS OPEN

kiss her & don’t tells= pink

instagram blurb= blue

not released yet/ ☓= red

LONG HAIR HARRY↓

Temporary Fix *

summary During the On the Road Again Tour, Harry uses his bandmate’s girlfriend as a distraction from his previous relationship.

PRINCE HAIR HARRY ↓

Grounded *

summary: in which your boyfriend skips a party to be with you.

Attention Span of A Goldfish *

summary: harry proves his point.

Good Boy *

ask: Subrry so gone that he keeps eating you even after you have already cum and are overstimulated but he can’t stop because he just wants to be a good boy for you 😩 I HOPE YOU ARE WELL

LOVE ON TOUR↓

Harryween *

summary: y/n loves harry’s costume.

Midnights *

summary: in which, harry is horny late into the night.

Orgasm Denial w/ Subbry *

ask: su -susss-sub harry pls mama pls pls PLEASE IM BEGGING BANGING MY FIST AGAINST THE GROUNG

Tripping, Falling

summary: subspace blurb

Happy new year

summary in which harry and y/n celebrate their second new years together and y/n makes a big decision in order to keep her and harry’s relationship alive.

DAD!HARRY↓

Harry’s Daughters

Stranger Things Release + Dating Rumors

Los Angeles Residency 4 and 5

(better together series)

PHH/LHH as a dad

Santa Baby *

summary: In which, the Styles’ family is spending their first Christmas in one their homes, in Y/n’s hometown, Boston.

WORST DADDY EVER

summary in which Angel is upset with her father and calls him the worst dad ever.

LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO *

summary: harry and his wife have kitchen sex

The Start of HS4…

HUSBAND!HARRY

Pregnancy Announcement Extended

Los Angeles Residency 4 and 5

Grammys ‘23

summary harry and y/n are up against each other.

The Start of HS4

SOON TO BE DAD!HARRY

Pregnancy Announcement Extended

NERD!HARRY↓

The Cute Tutor *

summary harry is completely obsessed with y/n. but when harry volunteered to be y/n’s tutor just as an excuse to see her every week, he had no idea having an attraction to someone you’re tutoring would become such torture. but harry is completely oblivious to y/n’s flirtatious manner towards him.

cw: phone sex

BOYFRIEND!HARRY↓

Open *

Best of Friends

summary actress!singer!reader is best friends with the one and only harry styles. many suspect romance between the two… but can you blame them? here are some of their birthday post for each other throughout the years💕 face claim, gracie abrams

Princess Treatment

18+ subspace aftercare with no plot

Subrry x Mean!Y/n

ask: can you please write subrry with mean dom y/n? <33 i feel deprived of subrry lately 😭

Precious *

summary In which Y/n is busy and isn’t able to tend and take care of a small sensitive Harry.

Breed Me *

summary: Harry breeds his wife with baby #2

Sad Harry (blurb)

summary harry’s sad and doesn’t know why.

DAD’S BESTFRIEND!HARRY↓

Beautiful Corruption *

You’re Pretty When You Cry *

CHEATER!HARRY↓

Party Pleaser

summary: where y/n tends to think she can blackmail harry to get what she wants but harry puts her in her place awfully quick by making her plead for a gut wrenching orgasm.

ALL MINE *

PROFESSOR!HARRY↓

Edge of Seventeen

BEST FRIEND’S DAD↓

Relentless *

Better Than Me*

DADDY!HARRY↓

Play Date ft. Zayn Malik *

EX BOYFRIEND!HARRY ↓

BAD KIND OF BUTTERFLIES *

summary:

OLDER!HARRY↓

Relentless *

Better Than Me *

FWB!HARRY↓

SHOULD’VE SAID IT *

summary: In which Harry and Y/n had a situationship a few months back. Y/n gets a new boyfriend who she claims she loves deeply but when Harry comes back and they hook up it makes all of his feelings for her suddenly come back. But Y/n claims Harry is too late.

STEPBROTHER!HARRY↓

WHOSE GONNA BRING THE POP TO THE CINEMA?

ask: HEYYY!! I LOVE your writings! can you please write one, where they fuck in the cinema OR ANY PUBLIC SEX? Either stepbrother h or dbf harry. I don’t care which one you choose, I just want that to happen.

FRAT BOY!HARRY↓

LAST CHRISTMAS

summary In which Harry and Y/n had relationship troubles last christmas and are excited to celebrate their first christmas together.

FETUS!HARRY↓

GANG!HARRY↓

STEPDAD!HARRY↓

PORNSTAR!HARRY↓

LIVE ON TOUR↓

BROTHER’S BESTFRIEND↓

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #dom!harry #harry styles x y/n #subbry #sub!harry #dom harry styles #sun!harry x dom!reader #harry styles one direction #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #whitemanscumslut #whitemancumslut

[kyleoreillylover]

Here’s a lil sneak peak into my sami zayn x jey uso x reader wip, coming soon 👀 can you guess the plot in the comments?

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564

You felt the tension you had been holding onto all these months finally crackling into a raging fire inside you, a fire which you hoped Jey and Sami could finally quench. But instead they seemed to have ignited even more.

"I didn't chose him over you." Jey spoke softly, and his eyes were even softer as he gazed at you. You felt that fire inside you again, burning brighter now, hotter and stronger than before. "I chose to protect you. And now, you have to choose the same thing for yourself."

You closed your eyes briefly as you fought the feelings and tension you always felt when you were around them. The heat that rose inside you threatened to burn you from the inside out. But you refused to give in. There was too much pain running through your veins to allow you to fall to pieces right in front of them.

The silence that filled the room was deafening, until it was finally broken by Sami. "Look, you can be as snarky as you want, you can insult us as much as you want, but that won't change the fact that when I look into your eyes, I see someone who needs my help." Sami hesitantly came closer to you- his brown eyes boring into yours. “Someone who's lost everything, and has nothing but hope left. That's not you. And if you continue to run away from this-"

You scoffed, cutting him off, not wanting to listen anymore to whatever he was going to say. You couldn't give in to them.

"Just stop! Just fucking stop! Stop acting like you care about my situation, or about me, or about us. Just... just stop!" Tears welled in your eyes, and it made you want to scream. The tension grew so strong, you thought your head was going to explode. You felt the walls collapsing, the flames starting to lick at your skin.

Jey shook his head, taking a step forward towards you. "Are you tryna convince us or yourself? Cause all your doing is deflecting, deflecting, deflecting, acting like we ain't know every inch of you and what makes you tick, what drives you crazy."

His voice was loud, commanding, hot, and demanding, causing the temperature in the entire room to skyrocket. "Acting like we ain't know you're just tryna make us mad so we'll just leave, well get this through your fucking skull-we ain't gonna go anywhere, we are staying here whether you like it or not. Cause we fucking care about you! Because we 're here for you! We're gonna help you and show you that you fucking deserve everything good in this world, you deserve the best, you deserve us!” His eyes were filled with a fire that matched yours that made your body heat up even more his voice low yet so demanding, his words harsh yet so caring. “Now, you gon' sit there, and tell us that you don't need help, you don't wanna accept our help because you think its weakness or somethin'? Well, that's just bullshit, baby. And we ain't gonna stand by and watch as you try to pretend like everything's fine when its not!"

Your eyes were blown wide, watching Jey take another step forward, anger blazing bright in his eyes. The heat radiating off of him, making your body heat up even further. You swallowed roughly, unable to speak, unable to process what you were hearing.

A tear escaped your eye, rolling down your cheek.

You didn't bother wiping it away.

But Sami did.

#wwe x reader #nxt x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe x black reader #fanfic #nxt #wwe #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x black reader #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #sami zayn x jey uso #sami zayn x fem reader #sami zayn imagine #sami zayn x reader #sami zayn fanfiction #sami zayn smut #wwe smut #wwe fluff

[jadeittic]

HS + Y/I: 2022 (SERIES)

EXTRA (3)

PREVIOUS. NEXT.

HARRY STYLES + PLATONIC!EX-1D MEMBER!FEM!READER

WARNINGS: typical instagram comments, swearing

harrystyles

liked by chrisevans, zendaya, florencepugh, and 7,517,918 others

harrystyles As It Was. Out Now.

view all 347,281 comments

username harry im at a funeral rn pls

username GIRL 😭😭😭😭

username TURN THIS SHIT UPPPP

username what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. the dancing???? the singing???? yn????? harry?????

tomholland2013 yourinstagram you look a little funny in that blue jumpsuit

yourinstagram SHUT UP I LOVED THE OUTFIT OKAY

yourinstagram ❤️💙

username THE VOCALS, THEY ARE SERVING. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENINGGG??!?!?! THE WORLD IS HEALING ‼️🙇‍♀️

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, jefezoff, gracieabrams, and 3,719,615 others

yourinstagram as it was out everywhere now!

view all 121,538 comments

username YN HONEY I THOUGHT YOU WERENT GONNA POST ANYTHINF TODAY.

username for a second i thought you and harry had serious beef

yourinstagram we do have serious beef

britanny_broski i fainted. it’s the second time this day

username THEYRE GOING TO BREAK THE INTERNET AGAIN SOON

chrisevans Dodger and I are so proud of you two ❤️ We miss you a lot.

yourinstagram sucks to say i only miss the dog, not the owner. thank u for ur kind words tho!

username JAILLLLLL 😭😭😭😭

username CHRIS 💀

chrisevans Ouch. What a way to offend me. 😒

username YOU KNOWWWW ITS NOT THE SAME AS IT WAAAASSSS

celebnews

liked by username, and 76,819 others

celebnews harry styles and yn ln rumored to be performing at coachella this year after releasing a collaboration album.

view all 10,718 comments

username YN AND HARRY???? AT COACHELLA???? PERFORMING TOGETHER??? IS THERE MORE I COULD ASK FOR

username you dk whats gonna happen to me if this actually happened

username omg. hoping for this 2 be true.

username YNRRY?????????? 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

username ❤️❤️

username WE SHALL RISEEEEE

username ALL HAIL YNRRY!

yourinstagram

liked by tomholland2013, gatenmatarazzo, harrystyles, and 4,261,197 others

yourinstagram robin when she found out yn and harry are performing at coachella this week

view all 238,860 comments

username HELLO???

username how is she so calm abt this what

username IM CRYING

harrystyles Another performance with you?

yourinstagram saying that like its a bad thing 😭😭

username MY FAV DUO LETS GOOOOOO

username TURN THIS SHIT UP YALL

username THE RIGHT WAY TO TREAT YOU BOTH 🙌🙌🙌

harrystyles

liked by jennaortega, noahschnapp, jefezoff, and 4,619,715 others

harrystyles Robin Buckley says that she’s delighted to have YN and Harry to perform at Coachella this week. Are you?

view all 281,821 comments

username WHAT A WAY TO CONFIRM THIS

username HARRY STYLES IS ROBIN BUCKLEY FAN?

username a crossover i didnt know i needed

username YES YES HARRY I AM DELIGHTED TO HAVE YOU BOTH AT COACHELLA THIS WEEK

emmachamberlain literally spending all my money just for this

username HISTORY. THIS WILL MAKE SO MUCH HISTORY.

noahschnapp milliebobbybrown TAKE ME HERE PLEASE

milliebobbybrown i literally just spent half my money for you

noahschnapp i dont care JUST PLEASEEE TAKE ME TO GO SEE THEM

yourinstagram

liked by timotheechalamet, chrispratt, zayn, and 4,716,810 others

yourinstagram april ‘22. coachella.

view all 491,471 comments

username I NEARLY PASSED OUT WHEN SHE STARTED SINGING

username oh lord

username when they both performed kiwi i swear i felt my legs become weak

username ON MY KNEES FOR THIS WOMAN.

sydneysweeney i cant believe i witnessed this moment. how are u both real!

username YNRRYCHELLA HAS MY HEART

zendaya what a wonderful show you both put on!! proud of harry and my girl <3

timotheechalamet GO GIRL WE LOVED YOU AND HARRY

florencepugh i lost my voice after screaming for yn and yn only

harrystyles Rude.

username her and harrys outfit are beyond omg

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, florencepugh, gemmachan, and 5,715,910 others

harrystyles Coachella, April 2022.

view all 371,716 comments

chrishemsworth Holy shit

chrisevans Holy shit indeed

username IM SHITTING MY PANTS

username HARRYCHELLA HAS MY HEART ❤️❤️❤️❤️

username definition of making history.

username WHEN HE AND YN SHOWED UP ON STAGE I WAS BAWLING MY EYES OUT 😭

username ok but the outfits did things to me and i think i like them

yourinstagram i almost tripped because of you

username GIRL YOU WERE ABOUT TO BREAK THAT GORGEOUS FACE OF YOURS

username IM GONNA CRY SHE LITERALLY WAS GONNA FALL OFF STAGE

username yall dont deserve the crowd you had last night

username YNRRYCHELLA SUPREMACY 🙇‍♀️

ynupdates

liked by username, and 12,462 others

ynupdates yn ln last night at coachella!

view all 5,810 comments

username YN LNNNNNN???!?!???

username THE HAIR. THE CLOTHES. THE GLASSES. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username MOMMY

username she and harry literally stole the show

username NEED A MAID???? I CAN CLEAN yourinstagram

username SHE IS EVERYTHING IM TELLING YOU

ynrry

liked by username, and 18,715 others

ynrry yn ln, harry styles, lizzo, and shania twain at coachella.

view all 4,817 comments

username WHEN SHANIA SHOWED UP I COULDNT EVEN THINK ANYMORE

username MY FAVORITES

timotheechalamet I LOVE MY IDOLS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username NOT YOU COMMENTING

username im telling my kids theyre the ones who ruled the world

username AS THEY FUCKING SHOUUUULLDDDDDD

username 🙌🙌🙌🙌

ynupdates

liked by username, and 6,850 others

ynupdates yn ln via instagram story.

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fake ig #harry styles instagram blurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x you #harry styles instagram au #HS + Y/I #jadeittic

[s-brant]

Super 8

When the hit gets moved up to the end of the week, Harry and Y/N have little time left to sort out their issues. With the added pressure of the time constraint and the possibility of death on the horizon, their relationship becomes more serious than either of them expected. (or hitman!h part seven)

21k (18+)

Warnings: smut, oral sex (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, role-playing, daddy kink, strong language, referenced torture, referenced violence/murder/threats of murder, referenced drink-spiking, referenced past self harm, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder.

-

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Y/N immediately turns to the side in hopes that her wig, as well as her dripping makeup, will conceal her identity from Zayn as he interrogates Harry for his presence here. The rain beats down on them hard enough for every drop to hurt where it meets her skin, and she can feel the synthetic hair of her wig starting to stick to the sides of her face, drenched from it. Thankfully, the coat they stole from the club keeps her shielded from the full brunt of the cold that threatens to freeze her.

He's having none of it, though, he marches right up to them and holds out his hand in her direction, saying, "You think I don't recognize her? We've been working together for almost two months, Harry, I'm not stupid!" He doesn't dare put his hand on the gun they both know is stowed away in the waistband of his jeans, but he does speak to him with an ire few people ever get away with. "Don't make me ask again. What the fuck are you two doing here?"

She's already reaching to hold Harry back by his arm, both of her hands wrapping around the forearm reaching for the gun on his hip, but he shakes her off. Before her or Zayn can react, he has the gun pulled out of its holster and aimed point-blank at the center of his friend's head.

Zayn's shrieking voice overpowers the sound of the rain pummeling the pavement, "What the fuck—"

"Get in the car," Harry says. He doesn't yell or put his hand on the trigger. Everything that leaves his mouth is calm and collected, which scares Zayn more than it would if he were loud or emotional about it. He doesn't say anything else except, "I'll tell you why we're here, just get in the car."

As if she'll do anything to stop him, Zayn looks over at her in a silent plea for help, but all she does is cross her arms over her chest and tilt her head toward the car. The hand he shoved the keys into grapples with them for a second before the sound of the car unlocking indicates she found the right button on the remote.

She says, "You heard him."

With a gun pointed at his head by a man he knows has no qualms about firing it, he sees no other choice but to comply. He mutters, "Fucking unbelievable," under his breath and turns to open the passenger's side door only to be interrupted by Harry making a "tsk" sound with his mouth. The gun still being aimed at his head is gestured to the backseat.

"The lady gets shotgun, you get the backseat."

What he doesn't have to tell her is that not only does he reserve the front seat for her out of respect, but he also does it in order to keep him from being able to jump out of the backseat while they're en route to wherever it is he plans on taking them. It's hard for her to refrain from smiling at him, from walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek for being so quick-witted. If Zayn sits in the back, he can keep him there with the child lock settings on the doors.

They both wait until he's locked in to get inside the car themselves, but, when they do, they remain utterly silent. They don't give him anything to go off of without being in a place far away from the lounge Leo and Ryan are currently at.

As the car's engine turns over and Harry pulls out of the parking spot, Zayn finally caves and speaks up.

"I'm his escort there tonight. If he comes back and sees I'm not there, he'll lose his shit."

She asks, "Well, what time did he say he'd be finished?"

There's a long pause following this that she takes as a promising sign. In the rearview mirror, the couple watches him and allows him to stew in the uncomfortable silence until he can't stand it any longer.

He sighs.

"One."

It couldn't be much later than it was when she checked the digital clock in the dressing room twenty-ish minutes ago, but she checks anyway to confirm they have a large enough time window to pull off the plan he likely concocting at this very moment. That gives them two and a half hours.

Without looking away from the road, Harry sets his gun down on her lap and says, "We have plenty of time.

-

Joe's Diner is, quite possibly, Y/N's favorite restaurant in the world.

Its food isn't anything special, nor are the milkshakes, lazy wait staff, and bathrooms that appear to have not been cleaned thoroughly since the early 2000s, but what makes it her favorite place are the memories attached to it. She first came here with her family, as a young girl, when they were visiting the city for Mardi Gras. Her dad thought it was a charming little place to stop by for lunch and, seeing that she and Peter, who'd been a mere nine years old at the time, were tugging on their parents' pant legs and moaning about how starving they were, it was the closest option.

Then, after her dad's funeral, while their mom was locked in her room crying herself to sleep, Peter drove her and Alanis down here for dinner and promised them he'd take their minds off of what happened for the rest of the night. They walked all around the French Quarter together after, and they weren't happy but they were okay. For the few hours they spent here, walking in a line and swinging their interlaced hands between them to the sound of jazz musicians playing their instruments on the street, the world felt less heavy.

Once her family dwindled down to her and Alanis after everything with her mom, Peter, and having to sell the house to afford to move to the city where she could find work fixing up cars, they'd go as many times as they could afford to. It seems fitting, she thinks, that this is the place he would take them for the conversation they have to have with Zayn

Harry sits on the same side of the booth as her, one hand resting on her thigh beneath the table where no one else can see, and Zayn sits opposite to them with a strange mixture of fear and aggression shown on his face. The waitress took their food orders seconds ago and, as she walks off, he stares at them.

"So?" he asks.

She shrugs and turns her gaze to Harry expectantly.

All he does is lean back against the booth seat and reach for the coffee pot the kind lady tending to them placed on the table. He told her they'd need quite a few cups, so she took it upon herself to leave the pot behind with them. It's not like there are any other customers in here right now. Y/N may not be fond of coffee herself, but between the two men accompanying her, she has no doubt they'll do some damage to it. It spills over the lip of the cup and forms a ring around the bottom of it when he pours it, but he doesn't make any move to clean it for now.

Unlike her, it's difficult for Zayn to read him behind the front he puts on to conceal the truth. He tries to gather something, anything, from the way Harry stares as he fills his cup with the steaming liquid, but he reveals nothing. She knows that it'll remain that way until he gives them proof that they can take him at his word and trust that he won't go running off to Leo the second they part ways. That is if they part ways.

Zayn may be his coworker and a loyal companion over the past decade, but if it comes down to it, he chooses her. Every single time, in every universe, he chooses her. He's gone through too much by her side and done too many things in the name of his worship for her to stop here. That's not to say he wouldn't mourn the loss of his closest coworker, he would, but he could make himself do it if he had to. If it was what it took to protect what's his.

"Perez is an FBI agent," Harry says quietly. "Tate drugged Y/N on his orders to provoke me and allow him to send a few of his men after Leo. He knew I'd get sent after the ones that lived, and when we went on that hit, he captured us. If m'gonna tell you the rest, I need you to prove to me that y'aren't gonna take this back to him."

There is no visible reaction to the news on his face. At first, she doesn't know whether or not he heard what he said with how blank his face has gone. If someone told her that without her having any prior knowledge, her eyes would pop out of her skull in shock. Actually, she's pretty sure she did react that way that night they met Garrett. Either he already knows about it or he doesn't believe a word Harry's saying. She's willing to bet all of the money she's earned in the time since she started working for Leo that it's the latter.

Then, he laughs.

He lets out a howling laugh and buries his face in his hands, shaking his head while they watch in anticipation of what he'll have to say next. Whether it'll be "Go fuck yourself" or "Are you stupid?", Harry isn't sure, but he's hoping it's neither. He's hoping to God that it's some form of compliance so he doesn't have to hurt someone he considers a friend for the sake of protecting everything they've done to get their freedom.

Zayn lets hands fall from his face and shifts in his place, reaching back to rest one arm on the back of the seat as he looks between the two of them in assessment.

"You're fucking with me, right?"

Neither of them laughs or smiles to indicate that being the truth. They simply stare back at him with the seriousness of the situation shown on their faces, silently praying that he won't do anything stupid in reaction to what they've told him as well as what they might go on to tell him. They can't blame him for thinking it's a joke, though. She probably would've thought it a joke too if she hadn't been told while she was restrained to a chair with a group of terrifying men surrounding her and threatening them with jail should they not comply.

Harry's head hangs lower than usual as he shakes his head.

"How am I supposed to prove it to you that I won't tell anyone? How does that even work?" he asks.

This time, it's Y/N who takes the lead in the conversation.

"You tell us something worthwhile. Something equally as dangerous that Leo can't know about," she says. "Trust us and we'll trust you."

It's a risky proposition to be sure, but it's not like they have any other choice. How else would he prove his loyalty to them? Without him having to talk to her about it, she knows that Harry is almost one-hundred percent sure Zayn won't run off and tell Leo about anything they discuss here, but there is no room for "almost" here. Not anymore.

Zayn's mouth opens and closes for a second before he keeps it shut while contemplating what to offer them. A muscle in his jaw clenches as he thinks it over in his mind, staring off at the table and tapping his fingers against it in thought. The lights from passing cars on the street flash over his face in whites and reds that either illuminate or darken his expression. It makes him harder to read.

After taking in a deep breath, he says, refusing to look anywhere but into Harry's eyes, "Alanis and I are together. We have been for a few weeks."

Beneath the table, the hand Harry has resting on her thigh instantly jerks in the direction of her hand to grab on and give it a firm squeeze. An order to stand down for the time being and postpone her freak-out for another time. He can see her expression transforming into one of outrage in his periphery, and he thinks based on that look alone that it might take all of his strength to hold her back from leaping over the table at their friend.

"Y/N..." he says softly in warning, but there is no stopping her.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks. Her lips curl up from her teeth in a snarl as she rips her hand out of Harry's grasp. "I told you to stay away. You know how important she is to me, you know how dangerous it is for Leo to know who we care about, so why would you do that? How could you?"

Seeing her eyes turning watery with tears sets off an alarm in the back of Harry's mind that urges him to do something, anything he can, to fix it. Of course, there isn't anything he can do short of joining her in berating him or beating the shit out of him, but neither are advisable courses of action. Not to mention, he isn't too keen on hurting one of his friends. Although he's the reason for her tears, he can't do anything except over her comfort.

He reaches back for her hand and, this time, doesn't squeeze it tightly to tell her to calm down. Instead, he rips his glove off without thinking and entwines their fingers to convey a different message than the first. The feeling of his scarred flesh beneath her fingertips causes her to go still, her mind blanking on all the things she imagined saying or doing to Zayn in retribution for him breaking his word.

The discomfort felt deep in his chest isn't lost on him, but none of it matters as much as providing her the comfort she needs at a time like this. Suddenly, it's tolerable when it's done for her sake. The memories of when Leo, along with five other men to hold him down, held his hand in the flames crackling in his fireplace do not take over the way they once would have.

"Oh, cut the shit," he says, and Harry shoots him a stare that seems to say, "Watch it," without having to speak it aloud, "I'm serious. Everyone else may be too stupid to see it, but I know you guys are together. What's the difference between you two and me and Alanis?"

She leans closer over their side of the table.

"The difference is that she's all I have left of my family. I already work with Leo, she doesn't, that's the difference."

"Leo already knows about her. As long as we keep it quiet, nothing changes," he says.

Deciding it's gone too far, or, rather, it will go too far should he not intervene, Harry holds a hand up to stop the two of them from ripping each other's heads off.

"Alright, enough." He gives Zayn a pointed look. "Y'did what she asked." His gaze then turns to find Y/N sitting beside him, their bare hands held together on her lap. "And we can talk about this later, but there's bigger shit to worry about right now. M'serious, Zayn, if you tell anyone..."

The weight of what they're soon to tell Zayn comes crashing down on her all at once now that Harry has started to prep him for it. Nothing he's assuming in his head could measure up to the truth. Every table around them is empty, and the wait staff are either on the phones behind the counter or on an extended cigarette break, so he doesn't waste much time. No need to torture him with the wait.

He looks over his shoulder to check if anyone is paying attention to them, then says it.

"Perez has us working for him to off Leo's brother. He's the director of the FBI. That's why Leo gets away with everything. That's why so many of the cops are paid off and do his dirty work, and, if we manage to get rid of Ryan, they can lock Leo up for the rest of his life or let me have him," he explains. "Once that's done, we can get out."

Before he can fully wrap his head around the information, Zayn asks, "When?"

She shrugs.

"It's planned for one of the days between Christmas and New Year's but depending on what Leo or Ryan know, it could be sooner. All we know is the timeframe at this point."

Before he can respond, the waitress comes back with her arms full of plates.

It's hard for her to remain seated here for the rest of their meal without bringing up Alanis or picking a fight with Zayn, but she tries. She instead focuses on the feeling of Harry holding her hand with his burnt one and allows it to distract her from the rage begging to release from inside of her. Well, that and the stack of blueberry pancakes she ordered. Not that Harry ever knew, but she grew to enjoy them after spending countless mornings eating what he made for her. The blueberry was a surprise addition, however. She shocked herself by actually enjoying it when she cut them up and ate them without the usual lake of maple syrup poured over them.

It's the most awkward forty minutes of their lives.

Harry keeps eyeing her up in his peripheral vision to make sure she won't sucker punch Zayn from across the table or start another argument, Zayn doesn't look up from his plate of waffles, and Y/N devours all of her pancakes with the thought of beating him to a bloody pulp on the mind.

Just after the waitress drops off the check, Zayn's phone rings.

The second he picks it up and reads the contact name, she knows who it is based on his face alone, yet he still dares to answer it in front of her. How she hasn't bitch slapped him yet, she isn't sure, but she's pretty damn close to snapping and allowing herself to do it.

"Hey," he says the word as though he fears it.

Through the speakers, she can faintly pick up on the familiar pattern of Alanis' voice from across the table. The hand Harry holds squeezes so tightly, he fears she may cut off the circulation to his fingers.

He stands from the booth in response to whatever she says, nodding his head and muttering that he can come over. When he drops two fifty dollar bills onto the table and tries to walk off without even sparing them a word, she lurches from the booth seat after him, wrenching her hand from Harry's grip to allow her to catch up to him. The sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floor echoes in the empty room, and she's just about to reach him when she feels a pair of hands grabbing her from behind by her shoulders.

"No."

She jerks forward against the strength of the arms restraining her to no avail.

"Let me go after him!"

But he doesn't budge. He holds on tighter and keeps her locked in his embrace until the headlights of Zayn's car shine through the windows. Since he has the keys, not her, it won't end in a chase that's designed for him to lose. By the time he lets go and allows her to rush out through the front doors to the diner, Zayn's sports car is already flying down the street in the direction of the apartment building a few blocks away.

The rain soaks her damp wig again and leaves her to shiver in the long coat wrapped around her naked frame as she watches the car disappear in the foggy night. Behind her, she can hear the door opening and closing, and she doesn't have to guess who it is before whipping around to face Harry with the promise of fury evident in her eyes.

"Why didn't you let me go?"

Her voice is a shrill yell over the sound of the rain pounding the pavement and cars speeding by, sending puddles of water washing over the sidewalk in waves. His arms are crossed over his chest, his back against the wall of the building, and he doesn't give into her demanding tone by reacting how she wants him to. Those fluffy waves are flattened to the shape of his head as he stares her down as if to ask, "Why would I?"

He sighs, taking a few steps closer to her, and murmurs, "C'mere," with his arms extended in invitation.

"Yeah, no," she says with a scoff, "Fuck this. Give me the keys."

"Not gonna happen, sweetheart."

"He's fucking my best friend! It was the one thing I asked him not to do, and he went behind my back to do it! She has no business being involved in any of this! If Leo finds out, it won't be good, you know that! You fucking know that, so give me the keys!"

She holds her hand out with her palm facing up with the expectation of him bending to her will, but she's in for a rude awakening if she thinks she can order him around. He steps into her space and tilts his head down to speak to her, forcing her to see the seriousness of his words.

"Let them be," he says with a sharp edge to his voice. "Y'can't control who she dates, and you were being stupid telling Zayn to stay away."

Her brows furrow.

"Excuse me?"

"What did y'think was gonna happen? When y'tell someone not to do something, it's the first thing they're gonna do. He was probably not even serious about asking her out until you made her off-limits. That's how guys like us are."

All of that pent-up anger felt for Zayn is now aimed at him as they face off with each other in the vacant parking lot of the diner. Neither of them backs down, as expected whenever the two of them start fighting. To his outrage, she actually has the audacity to laugh in his face. Her hands come up to wipe the soaked bangs out of her eyes, and she shakes her head.

"What does that even mean? Guys like you?" Every word is laced with enough aggression to strike him down where he stands. "What? Is that what happened with me? I was off-limits and you decided that was what made me interesting?"

He doesn't know what to go with other than the truth.

"I mean, yeah. I assumed y'had a boyfriend when I saw Peter's picture in your apartment, and Leo told me not to fuck you the day after he hired you. He didn't want me to complicate things, and I always took any chance I could to get back at him, so I did."

And, with that, she thinks her heart cracks open. He may not realize what he said, but, fuck, it makes her chest ache from the cruelty of it. She knew she didn't mean anything to him at the beginning of whatever they have together, but being reduced to nothing more than a pawn to get back at his boss hits her right where it hurts after weeks of being treated like she matters. Like she was more than just a quick fuck that he decided he didn't mind befriending for the sheer convenience of it all.

She asks, bottom lip trembling, "What the fuck is wrong with you? I thought"—Tears roll down her cheeks as she stumbles a step away from him—"I know you hate talking about how you feel, but, even then, I thought a small part of you cared. At least a little bit."

Was it all in her head? Did she make up every sweet moment and gesture, every time he let the mask slip a little, because she wanted them to be true? By the time he first saw her apartment, she thought he was starting to befriend and trust her, but, apparently, it was an act he put on to get into her pants. She wants to hate him for it. She wants to loathe him forever for starting their partnership on something as vile as using her for revenge against Leo, but the only person she loathes is herself. For wanting it. For viewing him through rose-tinted glasses and being so lonely, she led him by the hand right into her heart.

Harry follows her to where she has retreated off the curb of the walkway and says, his face flushed, "I don't know when y'started with this delusion of me being a good guy, but I'm not. I fucking kill people for a living! I treated you like shit when we first met and got off on thinking y'cheated on your boyfriend with me! I'm a bad person, Y/N, you should know who you're dating!"

Everything stops. The thoughts racing through her mind, the words that were on the tip of her tongue, her anger—everything. It takes a few seconds for him to even register why her entire face shifted from a look of fury to shock, but once he does, his face softens too.

She says softly, "Harry..."

Just like that, the wall between them comes back down, and he rushes past her in the direction of the Escalade parked in one of the front spots. His steps splash water up on his pant legs, but he doesn't pay it any mind in the face of what he thinks was a grave mistake he made. The quiet cries escaping her grow louder as she watches him walk away from her. No sign of the sweet, caring man from minutes ago who held her hand without his glove to protect him.

"Get in the car. We're going home."

-

Y/N spent the rest of the night crying herself to sleep.

Curled up in sheets and pillows that smelled of him, she sobbed hard enough to give herself a throbbing headache that she was forced to sleep off rather than risk going out into the kitchen to take a pain reliever. She hoped that once they got in the apartment, he might be willing to talk about any of what happened tonight, but he didn't. He locked himself in his office room the second he got the door open and left her with no company but her own. She wandered around the living room and kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and half-heartedly watching the next episode of the show they were watching, before retiring to the bedroom for the night.

She hadn't bothered to shut the blinds covering the floor-to-ceiling windows when she passed out without even washing off her smeared makeup, so the sunlight is what wakes her. The wig she ripped off of her head sits where it was thrown on the bottom of the bed, and she groans at the lingering ache felt in the front of her head from last night's hysterics as she pokes her head up to see it.

Her hand slaps over her face as she mutters, "Fuck," under her breath.

Last night.

What he said hurt her, yes, but she can't deny that she'd been quick to escalate things in the wake of what she learned about Zayn and Alanis. Not to mention, it's harder to be angry about his intentions at the beginning of their relationship after what he said at the end of their conversation.

You should know who you're dating.

Is that what he sees their relationship as? This whole time, she never thought it more than a matter of convenience on his part. It made sense to her, but, now, she can't seem to wrap her head around it. If they weren't just fuck buddies who happened to be friends, what were they? How long have they been dating? It's not as if he asked her officially or took her on any dates to imply that's what they were to each other.

She tosses the sheet off of her and sits up on the side of the bed with a heavy sigh. There's no point in drawing out the torture, is there? She should simply stroll out there and act like everything is normal, not giving him the chance to continue last night's argument or act with cruelty toward her for the sake of pushing her away again. It's her apartment now too, she shouldn't have to hide in the bedroom like a scared little kid. He doesn't scare her.

Although she hadn't washed her makeup off, she did peel off the nipple stickers and change into one of his shirts for bed, only wearing a comfortable pair of leggings underneath. As she walks out into the living room, she's thankful to at least be covered by that when seeing him again for the first time since last night.

At first, she doesn't spot him in the kitchen. Her gaze goes straight to the couch to find him where he usually lounges, either watching something in the morning or scrolling through stuff on his phone, but he isn't there. It isn't until she searches around the room a second time and turns to head into the kitchen to start making herself breakfast that she sees him.

If the sight of him alone didn't concern her, she might have fought a smile at the fact that he still made her pancakes despite the small rift put between them yesterday. But, the way he's hunched over the kitchen counter with his head hung low between his shoulders prevents her from feeling anything but worry, even after what he admitted to her last night.

"Harry?"

Her voice is timid when she asks it, approaching slowly as one would when walking up to a wounded animal.

Throughout most things, he keeps his cool. He forces himself to maintain an appearance of a calm, collected man who doesn't let anything get under his skin, but the way he looks right now...It must be something bad, so bad that he can't be bothered to care about whatever trivial relationship issues they have going on.

She stops a few feet behind him and asks, "What's wrong?"

Her heart almost stops when she hears him speak next.

"The hit was moved up to Saturday."

Saturday? Today is Thursday. It's the first of December, what happened to it being planned for after Christmas? That's two days away. Only two days of time to mentally prepare herself for either the end of her life or picking up and moving to a new country, always on the run for what they've done. Thank God she already knows how to ride a motorcycle and was taught to shoot by Harry last week. If not, they'd have to cram everything into the next forty-eight hours.

She walks the rest of the way up to him and leans against the counter, tilting her head to the side to make him look at her.

"I don't understand. Why would they do that?"

He shrugs, feigning indifference despite the obvious tears in his eyes. She has never seen him this distraught over having to complete a job in the entirety of their time working together, and it stuns her to silence as she watches him.

"Ryan suspects there's a rat in his team and warned Leo. He asked him for additional protection because he doesn't feel safe, so Garrett is moving it up. Says we have to act fast if we want to make it out alive," he explains, his voice dull and monotonous.

Two days.

That's potentially all they have left together before everything changes. All of that rage she felt last night is scattered to the wind now that she realizes how temporary it all is. Any second of any day, it could all end, and she feels foolish for wasting any time being mad at Alanis, Zayn, or Harry. He wasn't right in whatever cruelty he showed her last night, but she wasn't right either. It hurts to be lied to, but she has no right to dictate who anyone does or doesn't love.

The thought of it makes her chest muscles tighten up, constricting her ability to breathe, and she can feel a lump forming in the back of her throat that she cannot manage to swallow. It sends her stepping back away from him. Her eyes flood with tears as she shakes her head in response to the chaos of her own thoughts and feels the safety of the world she created with him come crashing down around her.

"I"—she stammers—"I need to go. I need to talk to Alanis. I'm sorry."

She gives him no opportunity to stop her, rushing herself off toward the front door and swiping the keys to one of his lesser used cars off the small rack mounted to the wall before disappearing from view.

Everything is a blur.

In all honesty, she shouldn't be driving in such an emotional state but getting to Alanis is all she can think of as she speeds from street to street away from his apartment building in pursuit of hers. Cars honk their horns at her for how she weaves in and out of traffic and nearly rear-ends multiple people, but, at this point, why should she care? She and Harry might be dead within days anyway, so what's to fear about a car accident? Or getting pulled over for a speeding ticket?

No one pulls her over by the time she screeches to a halt in the parking lot of Alanis' apartment building, though. Not even passing pedestrians turn their heads to observe her as she slams the door to the Mercedes shut and sprints around the side of the building to the locked front doors, frantically digging through her purse for the key Alanis had made for her when she first moved in. Her trembling hands make turning the key in the lock nearly impossible, but once she manages to do it, she is flinging it open into the sidewalk and running as fast as she can up flight after flight of stairs.

The elevator would take too long. She needs to see her now, she needs to say everything she hasn't yet and pray it's enough should she never come back into her life again. This time, Harry isn't here to help her up whenever she trips or stumbles due to the tears blurring her vision, and it takes her longer than she wishes to reach the second to last floor of the fifteen-floor building.

She slumps against the door to her apartment and pounds on it with a closed fist, calling out her friend's name.

"Alanis!"

Her voice breaks when she speaks again.

"Please, open the door! I need you," she cries, "I'm really scared and I just need to be with you right now. Please..."

The silence that follows is louder than anything she has ever heard. Not even her neighbors move around or crack open their doors to see which crazy woman is making a scene at eight in the morning on a random Thursday. There are no footsteps behind the locked door, nor are there any voices speaking to indicate that Zayn came back after escorting Leo back home last night to sleep over. Anyone who walks by would likely take pity on her. What a sorry sight she is, sliding down to her knees in front of the door with tears wetting her face and further smudging the makeup leftover from last night.

She sits here for five whole minutes, pressing her forehead against the wall and sobbing so hard, she's shocked she hasn't woken up everyone residing on the floor nearby, before she finally hears the sound of a door opening and shutting inside the apartment. The sound of her friend's footsteps coming down the hall leading to the door might as well be a choir of angels singing to her, all crescendoing in unison until they are snuffed out like the light of a candle with the door swinging open.

"Y/N?"

Hearing her voice breathes life back into her weary body and lifts her head from its place against the wall to see Alanis standing there with concern written across her pretty face. Harry is the one who makes her feel the safest, and that will never change, but Alanis has always been the one person in the world who has never turned her away. Not even when they've fought has she denied her a place to stay if she needed it, or a chance to be heard or given a second chance should she have done anything to warrant it. The reason she came here is that she knew, no matter what, that she would never ice her out.

She sniffles and asks, "Can I come in?"

The question isn't even dignified with a verbal response. She's already crouching down to help Y/N up from her spot on the ground and guiding her past the open door by the tail end of the question.

Once the door is kicked shut, Alanis stops her and cups her face between her hands.

"What happened, babe?"

This only makes her sob louder and harder, crumbling in her arms and bearing most of her weight against the front of her body. She buries her face in the crook of her neck, unable to say it directly to her face.

"Everything is so fucked. Harry and I have to do something really, really risky in a few days that I can't even tell you about or else you might get killed, and he's been ignoring me all night because, apparently, we're dating and he doesn't know how to feel about it! I feel like"—she takes a gasping breath and clings onto her waist as if she'll disappear whenever she lets go—"I feel like I might die if I don't talk about it, and I can't even do it with him because he's probably still pissed at me after our argument last night! I just miss the way everything used to be! I miss my parents, I miss Peter, I just want my old life back!"

Alanis doesn't do anything other than wrap her up in her arms and whisper soothing words. At this point, none of this can surprise her. Dating Zayn and being exposed to this life through both him and Y/N has left her with little room to be taken aback by anything anymore. So, rather than reacting with the type of shock that most people would, she just holds her there in her arms and strokes the back of her head as she whispers to her.

After her breathing has started to slow, Alanis says softly, "I know, Zayn told me about everything last night..."

This pauses every thought whirling in Y/N's head, and she pulls back from her cherished spot in the crook of her friend's neck to look at her through narrowed eyes. That lost anger washes back over her.

"Why? We told him he can't say anything—"

"No, no, it's not like that. You can trust him to keep your secrets," she says, then sighs. "He only told me because he wants me to leave the country before it happens. He said that if it goes wrong and Leo comes after me because of either of you, he wants me to be as far away as possible."

Y/N cannot lie and say that doesn't do wonders to dissolve whatever anger just came rushing over her again. It shifts something in her mind, altering the part of her that took to heart what Harry said last night about "guys like us" and setting it straight. It hits her like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh my god...he loves you," Y/N mutters, not even aware that she's saying it out loud and not in her head.

To this, Alanis chuckles, raising one hand to wipe at the tears that have sprung to her eyes at the sight of her friend being in a state of severe distress.

"You're one to talk. Zayn said he's never seen Harry treat anyone the way he treats you." Her voice then switches to one of gentle teasing, "He's in looooove."

This gets Y/N to break her fifteen-minute streak of sobbing to laugh along with her. Once again, she's left wondering how Alanis always manages to do this. To take her worst moments and turn them into something golden, something precious. It happened countless times after her family passed too. There's an innate talent inside of her for it, and, when she thinks about this, she realizes that her brother and Zayn were lucky to have her in whatever way they could. No wonder every person who spots her falls face-first into the pavement in love with her. It's rare that anyone with her degree of outer beauty has an inner beauty that outruns it by such a landslide.

Y/N says, "For what it's worth, I agree with him, and I'm glad he cares enough about you to help you escape before shit gets bad. It's what Peter would've done, and I was coming here to ask you to do the same exact thing too." She sniffles. "Well, that and to help me figure out how the fuck I'm supposed to talk to Harry about our relationship when I go back home"

Her friend cocks a brow at her.

"Home?" she asks. "As in his home? Okay, that's it, you're staying here and telling me everything now that you've decided to stop being a liar!"

That's all it takes for Alanis to drag her off in the direction of the living room with the sound of their giggles echoing off the walls of the small hallway in their wake.

-

The next ten hours of the day at Alanis' soon-to-be abandoned apartment were a blissful reprieve from the reality of her future. They decided not to talk about what was planned to happen on Saturday, instead opting to gossip about their men and have one last movie night before they're to part ways for a little while. In her heart, Y/N knew that everything would end up alright. She and Harry would do what they were ordered to and find her in whatever far-off country Zayn told her to flee to, but the small part of her that remained uncertain needed to stay with her for as long as she could.

Just in case it was the final time.

It wasn't Y/N who decided when it was time to leave, though, it was Alanis. Having a best friend who understands you to your very core is a double-edged sword, in her opinion, because while it makes for wonderful days like the one they spent together, it also means that they can spot the true intentions of your heart from miles away.

She could tell that Y/N was lingering long after the last movie ended not because she wanted to stay the night but because she was afraid of what might happen when she went back home. Not in a way that meant she was concerned for her safety—as Harry once said, he would never—but in a way that meant she was concerned for the outcome of the conversation they were due to have.

But, according to Alanis' take on it, there wasn't much to worry about.

"Babe, if you think he isn't in love with you, you're stupid, okay? If you forgive him for what he did, then tell him that. If you don't, then say that. Men aren't that complicated. I know he seems like he is, but I bet he's just scared shitless that you won't feel the same way."

So, she drove back over to their apartment building with that on replay in her mind, hoping against hope that Alanis was somehow right and everything will be okay between her and Harry again the second she walked through the front door.

The front door sits in front of her for a long moment before she can summon the strength to unlock it. She stands there for a long time, imagining all the different ways this could go wrong and end in her never getting to have him in the way she has for the past month or so, and tries to keep herself from getting worked up over it before they even have a conversation. For all she knows, Alanis could've been right. What if, just this once, something goes her way? She has lost everything—her brother, her parents, her autonomy, her potential in life—but the one thing she couldn't survive losing is him.

If she didn't push through all of the hardship for a reason, if it wasn't for him, for something at least, then she won't know what to do with herself. When Alanis leaves New Orleans and gets shipped off to whatever country of her choosing, Harry is the one person she will have left in this world. What happens if he casts her aside because he can't handle the pressure of meaning that much to her? The question she didn't dare present to Alanis when she said he probably feared her rejection was: What if what he's afraid of is her loving him back?

In the end, she opens the door like she would rip off a bandaid. The last thing she expected to see when rushing through the front door, however, is this.

Harry spins around, on defense immediately with a pair of Christmas tree ornaments raised as make-shift weapons before he sees who it is and visibly relaxes for a second, then halts as though he remembers the sour note they left off on. In the corner of the living room, a real tree is propped up in a stand and lit up with white string lights. Dozens of ornaments, which she assumes are brand new considering the fact that she has never pegged him for an avid celebrator of Jesus's birthday, already hang from the limbs of fresh pine that extend out from the trunk and sprinkle needles onto the towels he laid out on the hardwood floor.

For a second, they can't do anything but stare at one another across the immeasurable distance that has grown between them in less than a day and, somehow, shrinks into nothing the second he realizes that she came back. Part of him couldn't help but wonder as he paced around the kitchen in the moments following her departure if she was leaving him forever. If last night was the final straw and she was going to ask him if they could fulfill the plan he offered her in her kitchen early last month. For her to flee and leave him as the sacrificial lamb to pay the price for her escape. He decided as he went out to shop for Christmas decorations that he'd do it if she asked. If that was what she wanted, he would do it for her. It would be the least he could do.

He says as means of greeting, "Um, I thought we could do Christmas tonight since we might not get the chance to spend it together after everything coming up."

His lips press together tightly, likely to keep himself from saying more and begging her to have mercy on him after yesterday, and he stares at her with hope swimming laps in his irises. Back at Alanis' apartment, she already knew she forgave him for everything, but, now, nothing could stop her from crawling back into his arms and accepting his apology with as many kisses as she can manage.

Y/N shuts the door behind her, rushing forward across the open space and throwing herself into his arms once she reaches the other side of the room. The ornaments in his hands make it difficult to hold her up, but he manages, and he doesn't have the chance to say or ask anything before she's kissing him. Without thinking, he kisses her back, but not the way he usually does. This kiss is softer, and sweeter, and they both realize around the same time that it's their first real kiss as a couple.

His hands drift up the sides of her body and squeeze her waist, using this as his leverage to tug her as close to him as he can. The second she feels this happen, she smiles into the kiss because she knows. She knows that he isn't pushing her away this time, and she doesn't have to fear losing him, not unless Saturday's plans go awry.

He pulls away earlier than he wishes for the sake of saying, "I got you a present."

This blossoms a warmth in her heart that she never would've guessed she'd feel upon coming home tonight. On the car ride home, she anticipated a disaster of stifled emotions and cruelty aimed to put her at a comfortable distance yet again, but this...This is new. This something strange and beautiful that she has never felt before, and she doesn't know whether or not telling him this would ruin the feeling before she's had the chance to truly enjoy it.

His gloved hand slips into hers to guide her away from the tree and over to the couch where a small, square-shaped box sits on the coffee table in front of it. Neither of them speaks until they're seated side by side, the curve of her hip fitting to his body perfectly as he settles into place with an arm wrapped around her back. The other arm outstretches to reach for the little black gift box she assumes is the present he spoke of seconds ago, and her cheeks ache from how hard she smiles.

"Please, don't tell me it's too much," he murmurs as his only warning before putting the box in her waiting hands. "I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now. This isn't an apology gift, I just"—he stops himself, his lips curving upwards in a shy smile—"I want you to have it. Honestly."

With that being said, she lifts the lid of the box and unwraps the tissue paper concealing the gift from view to find an old key laying at the bottom. But, it isn't just any old key, it's the same key she remembers stealing from him last month and turning in the ignition of the Cobra to drive to the race track. The realization of what he's trying to do hits her with a brutality she never saw coming.

"Harry," she starts, "This is..." Remembering what he just said, she pushes away any suspicions of this being a desperate bid to win her forgiveness and turns her head to find him staring at her, his eyes soft with affection. "Are you sure?"

He nods.

"Positive."

For what feels like the fifth time in the last twenty-four hours, she can sense her eyes welling up with tears, and when she feels his arm tighten around her waist, she falls forward with her face in his shoulder to embrace him. Her tears wet his shirt as she remains there, her arm slung around the back of his neck to force him to stay right there, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything except for the happiness and appreciation he witnessed on her face before she threw herself on him.

When she pulls back, one of his hands is caressing along the edge of her jaw to bring her chin up so their faces are level. Happy tears. He has never been so glad to see her cry in the time they've known one another. Every other time, it was a result of his callous behavior that he loathed himself for causing, but this is something he takes pride in doing to her.

"I know this isn't an apology gift, but I am sorry for what I said last night," he says softly, nudging her nose with his. "I can't lie and say some of it wasn't true, but...I don't feel like that anymore. And it scares me, baby, it really does. M'not used to this. I've never dated anyone before. I don't know how this works."

The room seems to buzz with silence in the gaps of their speech, yet it isn't a silence either of them are needing to fill. If they say anything, they want it to be meaningful, not a useless string of words only said to lessen the tension hanging in the air. But, if she's honest with herself, there isn't any tension. Not anymore. All of it dissolved the second she saw him standing there with tree ornaments in his hands and hope in his eyes.

Her fingers card through his hair to brush it back from his face, taming the unbrushed curls that tickle her forehead the closer she nears to him, and his eyes flutter shut in appreciation of the gesture.

She says softly, but not weakly, "Well, I have, so believe me when I say I'm just as fucking lost as you are. I haven't felt this way about anyone before." Their lips are nearly touching. "But, I want it. Whatever you'll let me have of you, I want it."

Just as he juts his chin out to close the distance between their waiting lips, the feeling of her hand pushing flat against his chest halts him in his tracks.

"Wait."

His brows furrow in confusion.

"What's wrong?"

A smile lights up her face as she disentangles herself from him and stands from the couch with little explanation other than her saying, "I'll be right back," before scurrying off in the direction of the bedroom. He watches her disappear through the open doorway with a swing in her step that he hasn't seen since the night they spent together on the race track and waits eagerly for her return.

When she's out of sight, he finally lets out the sigh he's been holding in since she left early this morning for Alanis. She may not know it, but he spent every second of her absence making himself sick with worry over whether or not she'd forgive him for, well, everything. Yet, now that she's back, he realizes how stupid he was to think she'd leave him, and, for once in his life, he thinks he can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Should everything go well this weekend and Garrett manages to get them to safety with Ryan out of the way, they could have any life they want together. He could work on film sets somewhere across the world while she opens a bakery of her own and spends every day doing something she loves. They could have it all.

Her soft footfalls on the floor are what wakes him from his daydream of a future with her, and when he looks up to see her walking across the room to him, he grins.

"Y'didn't have to get me anything," he says only to be shushed by her.

The couch dips with her added weight sitting back down on the cushion beside him, and he relishes the warmth of her body as it presses against his without an inch of space left for them to cross. Her gift for him is wrapped in a box at least ten times the size of the one he used to give her the keys to the Cobra, and he raises his brows at her when she sets it down on his lap. It has a heavy weight to it.

In answer to his unspoken question, she says, "I—uh—I got it for you soon after you got me the tattoos." A deep breath, then, "I used the money I stole from you in October."

He goes as silent as death, and she takes it as the time she needs to explain herself after dropping the confession on him with little to no warning.

"I didn't do it on purpose, okay? It was a complete accident, and that doesn't make it any better, I know that, but I was afraid of you back then and didn't want you to think I took it to get back at you after you hijacked my car—"

"Hold on," he says, and she complies without protest. There's a pregnant pause, then—"Are y'talking about the money I put in your sweatshirt pocket the night we met?"

She nods. And, for some reason, this amuses him rather than upsets him. Seeing her nod, admitting that she stole from him after months of lying, makes him chuckle, shaking his head at her. One of his hands cups the side of her neck to keep her from hanging her head in shame to avoid meeting eyes with him.

"You silly girl," Harry whispers, "I did that on purpose."

This time, it's her turn to be shocked.

"What?"

This only makes him laugh harder at her, making her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she thinks back on everything that happened that night and realizes that she'd had it wrong. That night, when he interrogated her about why she was dealing drugs in Leo's territory, she told him she was doing it in an act of desperation. To make enough money to pay her rent. And when he shoved her driver's license and insurance papers back into the pocket of her hoodie, he slipped in all of the cash he had on him at the time for her to pay rent with. He knew her rent probably didn't cost six-thousand dollars a month, but it isn't like he had the chance to ask her how much she needed and count it out. He didn't want her to know he did it until she got home. When he assumed they'd never see each other again.

He unties the bow she wrapped around the large box and says, "I was giving you the money for rent. Y'didnt steal anything from me."

While she's too busy reeling from the shock of this news, Harry is ripping open his Christmas gift like a little kid does when sitting under the tree in their pajamas. It's endearing to see him so excited about something she's done for him when he typically has all the emotion of a brick wall in everyday circumstances. Although, she thinks he'd be excited about anything that involves her at this point, and knowing that pleases her more than he will ever know.

Under a blanket of tissue paper, he wraps his gift inside the box to find something he never anticipated getting from her. He mentioned his aspirations to make films once or twice at most and figured she wasn't even paying that close of attention, but she was. The interior of the box is packed with Styrofoam to keep the vintage Super 8 camera she bought him safe from any bumps or falls, and he doesn't know what to say when he sees it.

It's in beautiful condition based on his first glance at it, probably manufactured sometime in the mid-70s if he had to give it a good guess. It must have taken her a day or two to find a good store and cost her a few hundred dollars to get this, as well as the film and tools he needs to operate the old device as though it's brand new.

He looks up from the box to find her there, smiling at him, and doesn't hesitate to lean in to kiss her. It's short, way too short, but he must pull away from the small peck to speak. When he withdraws from her, she follows him with her eyes still closed, thinking he was going to come back to her with a passion that'd make that first kiss seem pitiful by comparison, only to find him watching her again.

When he doesn't say anything, she asks, "What?" and he shakes his head as if to dismiss any of the worries he knows are springing to life in the back of her mind.

"This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has gotten me," he says. That wall that fell into place between them after what he said last night crumbles at this moment, and she can tell that every word he speaks is genuine. "Thank you so much, baby. You totally beat my present for you."

To this, she laughs.

"You literally gifted me my dream car, Harry, which was so thoughtful considering my dad and everything. I'm gonna have to find a hundred vintage cameras to one-up you now!"

"No, absolutely not, I'm the one who spoils you here, not the other way around. M'gonna buy you as many cars as you buy me cameras, so we're gonna need a bigger car park pretty soon."

Y/N's face aches from how hard she's been smiling since she got home as she leans over to rest her head on his shoulder again. Of course, he has no qualms with this change in position and adapts straight away to throw his arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as an additional "Thank you" for the gift.

With her tucked under his arm, he uses his free hand to lift the camera from the box by the monopod and bring the viewfinder to his right eye. He doesn't waste the film she loaded it up with on random footage of the living room, but finally having a camera in his hands touches a place deep in his heart regardless of whether or not its rolling. And it suddenly hits him as he sits here and moves the camera to observe different parts of his living room that this is what he could've had for a decade. Her, a camera, and hope for the future rather than spending every minute wishing he could fall asleep and never wake up again.

"I was thinking since we're about to pick up everything and move to a new place this weekend, you could use a good camera to capture it. I was kind of hoping for New Zealand or Japan if Garrett is really gonna let us go wherever we want. They film a lot of movies in New Zealand, I heard," she says. "What about you?"

He takes a second to think it over, then says, "I'll follow you anywhere. Japan, New Zealand—it's your choice."

The threat of death on the horizon should they fail pushes him to a place of honesty he has never inhabited in her presence yet, but it feels strangely good. Every time he imagined allowing himself to say what he feels with her, he thought it'd feel wrong or terrifying, but it feels right. She feels right, and he couldn't be any happier than he is at this moment. He tries not to think about the fact that they could fail on Saturday, though. For once in his life, he wants to stay alive to experience how it feels to exist in peace with her, and, if he dies weeks after he finally began to enjoy living, he'd have to crawl his way out of hell to take his anger out on those who put him there. And if they killed her too...not even death could prevent him from seeking vengeance.

From where her face is nuzzled in his neck, her voice is partly muffled when she speaks next, but he hears it.

"I was also thinking...maybe the first thing you film could be us."

The thing is, Harry is notorious with her for having a dirty mind, so he doesn't want to assume that the first thing he thinks of is what she meant by that, but, then again, it is Y/N he's dealing with. She is just as filthy-minded, if not more, than he is when you truly get her going, and the way she said it leads him to think his assumption is true. This is the same woman who begged him to fuck her on a motorcycle in public, the same woman who got off on him calling a guy she rejected while they were fucking—she is many things, but she is not pure-minded.

He slowly lowers the camera back into the box and shifts a little in his spot to get a good look at her, knowing that one glance at her face will either confirm or deny his suspicion. And, just as he thought, when he tilts her head up from his shoulder to make her look at him, there's a mischievous smirk on her face.

"What?" she asks. "You really thought you weren't getting any more gifts?"

Soon enough, a smirk to match her own appear on his face.

"Y'wanna make a movie with me, Y/N?"

Before he can lift a finger to touch her or speak another word to order her to strip her clothes off, she jumps up from the couch and runs—actually runs—to the bedroom as if to ask, "Does this answer your question?" And he can't even make fun of her for her eagerness, because as soon as he sees her disappear behind the door, he is getting himself off of the couch with his new camera in hand and running after her. It's been a few days since they last had sex, so it isn't surprising to him in the least that he can feel himself getting hard at the mere suggestion of it. They were so busy doing Leo and Garrett's bidding that they didn't have a spare moment, or the energy, to do anything together, and he hasn't jerked off since they started living together, so...

On the way over, it takes a few fumbling seconds to find out how to turn the camera on and begin rolling, but he figures it out by the time he reaches the bedroom. The first shot he ever films is of her, laying on the bed with her legs curled up into a ball and her top already thrown across the room to reveal the expanse of her bare torso to him. When he zooms in, she waves at the camera with a radiant smile lighting up the frame, then beckons him to her with a plea for him to come to bed.

Harry approaches the edge of the bed slowly and watches her, making sure to move the camera to capture every one of her movements, as she crawls down to meet him at the end of it. When she looks up at the lens of the camera through her lashes, her cheeks turn hot and she averts her eyes. But he doesn't let her do it for any longer than a second. The hand not holding the camera grabs her by the chin and forced her to face it again.

"What?" he asks in a condescending tone that makes her press her thighs together. "Y'getting camera shy on me now, baby? I thought I found my leading lady."

Falling right into the scene he sets with those two sentences, she shakes her head with wide, pleading eyes staring right past the camera at his face. The angle he looks down at paired with her arms crossing over her chest accentuates the swell of her breasts for the camera. A purposeful tactic on her part, he assumes.

"No. No, I wanna be a big star, Mr. Styles. Put me in one of your movies." Her hands lift to settle on the waistband of his jeans, sliding into the middle to play absentmindedly with his belt buckle. "Please?"

One of her hands drifts lower until she can palm his half-hard cock through his pants to elicit a sharp breath from him. He lets her do it for as long as it takes to get him the rest of the way there, looking up at the camera like the good girl she always is—dying to please him at any cost. The hand still working his belt takes forever, but, finally, it comes undone for her after a solid minute of effort and allows her to then move on to the button and zipper of his jeans.

She leans forward off the edge of the bed and kisses the trail of sparse hair leading down from his belly button into the familiar territory concealed by his unzipped pants and underwear beneath, moaning when her cunt presses down against the heel of her foot during the change in position. He can sense that she's about to reach up and pull his clothes down his legs, but, before she can, he remembers something she said to him at the gun range. Before any of the heavy stuff came out, she joked about him holding her at gunpoint while they fucked, and seeing that his gun is tucked right there in the holster hidden in the waistband of his jeans, he doesn't see why he can't bring her fantasy to life.

Her eyes were closed as she kissed her way down the length of his stomach, so when she feels the barrel of a pistol digging into her temple, they shoot open in surprise. It makes her entire body go still until she peeks up at him and sees the look on his face. Without speaking, it tells her that she can call it all off. That if he took it too far and mistook a joke as a request the other week, she has every right to knee him in the balls and banish him to the couch tonight.

Much to his enjoyment, it ignites a sick pleasure between her thighs that he can sense by how she looks at him alone. He's become well-versed in the complexities of her expressions and mannerisms over the time they've spent together. He knows when she's angry with him, upset, happy, or, more appropriately for their current situation, aroused. Right now, she looks like she could eat him alive.

He says, "Go on," and presses the gun into her head with added pressure.

His jeans and underwear are practically torn down his legs seconds after he finishes ordering her around.

The contact of her warm palm wrapping around his cock once it's freed from the confines of his clothes tenses his abdomen muscles. It's heavy in her hand, hot to the touch, and it twitches with the caress of her fingers rubbing the sensitive underside where the tip connects to the rest of his length. She pushes up to stand taller on her knees and allows a string of spit to dribble out of her lips—still visible for the camera, of course—onto it for lubrication as she jerks him off with her head tilted to look up at him.

Once she's sure he got the shot she envisioned in her head, she then sinks back down into her previous position and takes him into her mouth. He's given no chance to prepare himself for it, so when he feels the wet heat of her mouth suctioned around his cock, he can't help how he moans in response to it. Her hand pumps what she can't take all the way into her throat as she pushes her head down as far as she can without gagging, trying to do it exactly how he likes.

"Fuck," he groans, head tipping back to the ceiling, "That's it, baby."

The vibration of her humming with her mouth encasing his cock has him fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward to thrust deeper into her throat. His free hand reaches down and wraps itself in her hair, bringing it away from her face and using it to guide the steady pace of her head bobbing up and down.

There's something particularly thrilling to her about being allowed to do this to him. She likes the idea of being the only person on this earth allowed to touch him, allowed to render him weak from her touch and leave him at her mercy. It helps her understand why he enjoys the power he has over her. It can be intoxicating, in a way, to look at a person and know they would do anything should you request it for nothing in return.

Her other hand comes up to cup his balls, massaging them in her palm and delighting in the reaction of his hips jerking forward to press himself deeper into her mouth. She allows her jaw to go slack at this, relaxing her throat, and glances up at him with a pointed look that tells him exactly what she wants him to do.

The hand he has wrapped up in her hair remains there, gripping the back of her head for leverage as he starts to thrust in and out of her open mouth with little care for how the camera begins to jostle with his sudden movements. It feels far too good to care about whether or not he's getting it on film right now. Every time he feels her throat constrict around the head of his cock, he has to actively fight the urge to come. He typically has the stamina to keep going for a while, but the eroticism of the situation with him filming it and her letting him fuck her mouth pushes everything to a degree of intensity he can't escape from.

They've only done this once before, so the novelty of it has yet to wear off this time around. Every time he pulls away until he's almost slipping out of her mouth, the end of her tongue flicks against his tip in a teasing motion that beckons him back into the tight heat of her mouth.

"Good girl," he murmurs in praise, cut off at the end by his own breathy moan when she swallows around him.

It isn't until he presses a little too deep on the upstroke of one of the thrusts, causing her to gag and take in a sharp breath through her nose, that he uses the hand in her hair to pull her off of him. Her lips are smeared with spit, a string of it connecting from them to the leaking tip of his cock until it breaks and falls onto her breasts, and her hair is a downright mess from the grip he had on it. She gulps down air desperately as she looks up at him, her brows furrowing as if to ask why he stopped.

When he takes too long to answer while staring down at her, she asks him, "What?"

"Take the rest of your clothes off."

He takes a step back with the camera lifting to get a better shot of her and tries to ignore the throbbing of his cock that urges him to bend her over the edge of the bed in order to push him over the edge he's so dangerously close to. The leggings she wore to sleep last night aren't accompanied by any of the skimpy undergarments he's gifted her, so when she dips her fingers under the band and starts to shimmy them down her legs, he's met with the sight of her bare cunt sooner than he expected.

Being the little temptress she is, she takes it slow for the camera. She truly puts on a good show for both him in the present and the future version of him that'll no doubt rewatch it. From where he stands, he can see how wet she is. It glistens on her pussy and inner thighs in the light shining down from the ceiling, and though he wants to get a taste of her, the need to be inside of her already outweighs it greatly. Three days without fucking is far too long for him to resist it now.

He passes the camera off to her, allowing Y/N to scoot back up the bed enough to keep her feet from dangling off as she raises the viewfinder to her eye to capture him tugging his shirt off. Shamelessly, she zooms in on his chest and pans the camera down from the birds on either side of his crucifix necklace, past the butterfly, and to the ferns that decorate his hips before zooming back out to capture him in his entirety.

The bed creaks beneath his shifting weight as he kneels on the edge, crawling over her body until he's settling between her eagerly spread thighs. The gun is set down on the empty space of mattress beside her. She makes sure to point the camera lens down the small gap left between their bodies the best she can to capture everything he does, but it gets increasingly more difficult when he guides his length forward to rub between her folds and soak it with her arousal. The contact of it sitting heavy against her clit has her rocking her hips up against him in a silent urging to hurry up.

He doesn't, though.

He takes his time inflicting this torture, grinding against her and leaving the hand that holds the camera up shaky from the stimulation that is simultaneously too much and not enough. This goes on for as long as he can stand it for the sake of getting her as needy for him as possible. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the least sexy things he can conjure—you know, a cold shower, his grandparents, and so on—to keep himself from getting too excited too fast. If he blows his load the second he pushes into her, he'll probably have to hide his face into one of the pillows to shield himself from the embarrassment.

"Please," she breathes out and rolls her hips up into his to guide his tip closer to her entrance, "Wanna feel full, daddy."

"No," he says.

This halts everything. The movement of her hips, the hand she had rubbing up and down the length of his arm, and the additional pleading words that'd been on the top of her tongue. Right before she can ask him if he wants to stop, he leans down and claims her mouth with his own. It's a deep, surging fire of a kiss. It whisks away any of the thoughts floating around in that head of hers as he uses the distraction to line himself up with her dripping hole and presses the tip inside.

His voice is soft and sweet when he says into her parted lips, "Use my name"—his tongue licks into her mouth playfully—"Say my name and I'll fuck you."

And, of course, it isn't even a full second that passes by the time she's whispering, "Harry, please," into the messy kiss they share.

The stretch of him pushing into her after a few days without intimacy of any kind has her biting down hard on her lip to stifle the whimper that rises out of her from the strange blend of pleasure and pain it elicits. He isn't above average in the way that men are portrayed in porn, but she can't deny that his cock is the biggest she's ever taken. The first time they had sex in Leo's parking garage, he had been behind her, so it wasn't until he entered her and began pounding away with little care for whether or not she needed time to adjust that she realized it.

She loves it. There's nobody else that could compare, which isn't solely to do with his size but rather what he does with it. If she were to tell him the things she thinks when he first thrusts into her every time, his ego would likely inflate to a size ten times the one it typically is. And, when it comes to sex, his ego doesn't need any more stroking than it has gotten already.

The initial pace he sets is not as brutal as it was their first time.

He fucks into her in deep, slow strokes that leave him lingering inside her, aligning their bodies so he rubs against her clit every time he slides in to the hilt. If anything, it's a less hurried recreation of the time they fucked on the motorcycle at the race track. Unlike that time, they have time and privacy to do whatever they'd like for however long they'd like to do it, so he takes his time and tries to savor it with her. Though she may like getting it rough and fast most of the time, neither of them is opposed to something as loving and tender as this.

Softly, she asks, "Can I take these off?" and reaches for one of the hands he has braced on either side of her waist against the mattress. More specifically, she reaches for the gloves he still wears while every other article of clothing has been shed from his body and tossed to the floor. "I wanna feel you touching me. I'll keep them out of view of the camera. I promise."

There's a moment in which the practiced cadence of his thrusts falters in reaction to the question, and it takes a few seconds to make up his mind. She can feel him tensing up on top of her as he becomes aware of his scarred hand again after being buried beneath the blissful haze of pleasure and glances down at where it presses flat against the bed.

I trust her, he reminds himself. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her. I trust her—

He brings his scarred hand up to his face first and bites the end of the glove on his middle finger to tug it off. The camera is immediately turned to the side before it comes all the way off, facing the windows that display the skyline of the city under the dark night sky, to give him the privacy she promised as he lays himself fully bare before her. It isn't the first time, technically, but it is the first time she's asked him to do it. Every other time, he did it of his own choice and made certain to keep it from her line of sight as much as possible, but, tonight, he lets her watch as he pulls both of them off and tosses them in the direction of their other clothes.

During this, he hasn't stopped the slow undulations of his hips that press his cock deep into her, consistently rubbing a sensitive spot inside that draws a series of quiet moans from her open mouth as she pants for breath. What she does next, however, makes him stop for the short second it takes his brain to process what he sees.

She takes the burnt hand that cups her breast and brings it up to her face, setting the camera on the bed to wrap it in both of hers until it's closed into a loose fist. The sensation of her soft, unmarred skin against the ridges and scars covering every inch of his larger hand satisfies something in him that he hadn't known existed, but she isn't done. If he thought he liked the contrast of her skin touching his, the feeling of her lips pressing kisses onto the heel of his hand and curled-up fingers might as well be heaven-sent.

"I love you," she whispers with her eyes fluttering shut to avoid the rejection she assumes is displayed on his face the second she says it. She tries not to cry as she holds his hand to her face, Harry already having gone still inside of her, but there's little she can do to fight it. "You don't have to say it back, but I'm just so tired of not being able to tell you."

There is no part of her that expects him to say the words back. The first time she felt the urge to say them was the day he came back home and apologized to her for leaving by letting her shave off his beard. It was something about the way he looked at her, and she knew at that moment, as he watched her while she pretended not to pay attention, that she was a goner. Truth be told, she had been falling for him long before that. She may have even been in love with him from that first night in the parking garage and hadn't known it until she'd been sitting on his lap to shave his beard for him. Perhaps that was what made her so enraged with him—how desperately she wanted him underneath it all.

Harry mutters, "Open your eyes."

He knows the power he holds over her, so when he tells her to do this, he has no doubt that she will listen to him, especially in the delicate situation they're in currently. Sex has a way of making her more pliant than she is otherwise. Outside of it, there is no doubt that they hold the power in equal amounts between them in their relationship, but during it, she surrenders herself to him in a way she never does elsewhere.

When her eyes open to find him laying atop her body, their chest fitting to one another's with every rise and fall of their breaths, she doesn't find him scowling or withdrawing from her in discomfort. Instead, she finds him looking at her the way he had that day she shaved his beard for him. Those green eyes are softened to a degree they never do unless it's her they're focused on. He has nothing but fondness for her, even after what she just confessed.

"I feel," he says, pausing as though trying to get the words out is harder than anything he's ever done before, "so much for you...I can't—I can't say that yet, but that doesn't mean I don't feel similarly." He pulls his burnt hand out of her grasp to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while he looks down at her. "I've always been yours."

This stuns her to silence.

Never in her life did she think she'd receive something like that from him—not refusal, rejection, or cruelty, but honesty and validation. Hell froze over, basically, and she couldn't be happier about it.

She says, "Then let me treat you like you belong to me."

Y/N guides him to roll over onto his back, careful as he pulls out of her to shift their position in order for her to straddle his lap. Her legs sit on either side of his hips, and she rises up on her knees just enough to allow him to guide his cock back inside of her. As soon as she sinks down onto him, they're both moaning out into the empty apartment with their hands clinging onto one another for support. Hers brace themselves on his pecs, fingers splayed over his swallow tattoos, and she uses this to keep herself steady as she begins to rock her hips back and forth on him. In this position, she can feel him even deeper than she did seconds ago.

He reaches for the camera that has been laying on its side on the mattress for the past two minutes and brings it back up to his face to capture his point of view. Her hair falls around her face as she drops her head down to meet his gaze, and he can't tear his eyes away from her for any longer than a second before he feels the need to find her again. With every thrust, she rides him harder. Fully in control, she sets the pace and depth she enjoys most and lets him come along for the ride with her, his hand holding onto her hip so hard that he runs the risk of bruising her.

"Harry," she whines, her eyes shining with tears, "Fuck—I love you."

The hand squeezing her hips guide her through the motions as she begins to get too immersed in the pleasure to keep it up. Her breasts bounce with the jolting motions of their bodies colliding, the wet sound of their rutting invading the room and accompanying the symphony of moans and sighs that otherwise fill the silence. It takes everything he has to keep himself from coming pathetically early from the sight and sound of her being split open on his cock. He had already noticed how close he was getting when she let him fuck her mouth, but now he's barely hanging on.

He has to close his eyes, knowing that if he keeps looking up at her while they do this, he'll finish in a matter of seconds and leave her unsatisfied. This has never happened to him before. In all the times he hooked up with random people over the years, treating sex more like a chore to release his volatile emotions than anything else, he never felt as though he was going to come less than a minute in. If anything, he took pride in the fact that he had stamina in bed, but he's beginning to realize now that it had little to do with his ability and everything to do with how he was treating the actual act of having sex with someone. They were physically attractive to him, yes, but they weren't her. And they certainly weren't crying out his name and telling him they loved him the way she is right now.

"Hey," she whispers, "what's wrong?"

The rapid pace she set begins to slow with her growing concern for him, but he doesn't let her. He uses the hand he has on her hip to keep her moving on his cock, shaking his head to dispel her worry as he tries to string together a sentence amidst the euphoria.

His eyes remain clamped shut when he mutters, "M'gonna come too fast if I look at you."

To this, she squeezes around him as tightly as she can as if to egg him on, invigorated by the thrill of knowing what she does to him and using it to bounce her hips on him like her life depends on it. She even exaggerates the sound of her soft moans for the sake of pushing him closer to the edge, and if he weren't so close to his orgasm, he'd probably laugh and call her out for being such a tease. At this point, he doesn't care about the camera capturing any of it. It ends up falling to the bed next to their bodies as he throws his head back against the mattress and tries to pull himself back from the brink of climax.

Then, he feels the hard steel of the pistol he left on the bed pressing into the side of his head.

"Go on," she says, and he can hear the smirk in her voice, "I want you to."

When he opens his eyes to take in the sight of her on top of him, there's no turning back. From the delicate curves of her hips leading up to her waist to the look in her eyes as she stares him down with his own gun pressed to his temple, this visual of her at the moment is nothing short of pornographic. Everything about it overstimulates him—watching her, hearing her breathy moans, and feeling her cunt squeezing around him as if she's trying to milk every drop of cum from his thick cock.

His brows scrunch up as he teeters on the edge, begging her, "Say it again. Please," he starts to thrust up to meet her movements, holding her still by her hip to allow him to pound into her with all of his strength, "Tell me."

Without even having to ask for clarity, she knows that what he wants to hear isn't the last thing she said. It's the confession that she's kept from spewing for weeks, and knowing that hearing her say it pushes him closer brings a tired smile to her kiss-swollen lips. She tosses the loaded gun aside and it clatters along the floor, sliding until it hits the far-off wall, then leans down to kiss him. Her lips taste of the flavored gloss she borrowed from Alanis this afternoon, and he slides his arms around her waist to tug her closer, chasing his release with little care for anything other than the woman before him.

He bites down on her lower lip in punishment when she takes too long to give him what he asked.

"Say it," Harry demands.

​​She gasps at the brutality of his thrusts and falls into his chest with no strength left to keep herself held up, whining every time he buries himself inside her hard enough that she knows she'll be sore tomorrow. The gun slips out of her hand and onto the sheets beside the forgotten camera she gifted him.

She cries out, "I love you, I love you—"

Her emphatic declarations of love are cut short by Harry kissing her, using her gasps for air as his chance to lick into her mouth with his tongue as he gives himself to the pleasure that has been begging to consume him since they began.

It's unlike anything he's experienced before. He never thought that sex could feel like this until he met her, and, more specifically, until he realizes what it felt like to do it with someone who loves you. With each spurt of his release, he feels like his life force is being drained out of him and given to her—it feels as if his soul belongs to her now. The arms wrapped around her are squeezing with enough force to limit her breathing, and he doesn't dream of letting her go. Not yet. He holds her as close to him as possible while he rides out the blissful rush of endorphins pumping through his body as his thrusts slow to a lazy grinding of his hips into hers.

She dips her head down to kiss his neck in the aftermath, giving him the space he needs to catch his breath now that he's on the comedown. His chest rises and falls at a rapid rate beneath hers, but it isn't a steady one. It jerks and stutters in a way she's only felt or seen when the person she's holding is crying, and it makes her come back up from the warm curve of his neck to check on him.

Those long lashes are wet with the tears he attempts to blink away. He is crying, but she doesn't feel alarmed by it. It's obvious to her that it isn't the type of crying bred from sorrow or regret, it's the type of crying bred from happiness. From love. They're the same kind of tears that she shed moments ago when she confessed her feelings for him.

As soon as he catches her watching him, though, he stops. Not because he isn't comfortable with her crying but, instead, because it occurs to him for the first time since coming back from the intense pleasure of his orgasm that she didn't come. And that simply won't do.

Harry pecks her once on the mouth before using the arms still encasing her waist to flip them over. With his considerable strength, it's a smooth transition that is over as soon as it begins, and she hardly has the chance to laugh before her back hits the mattress. He's already descending the length of her body by the time she lifts her head to look at him. His hands push her legs apart with little formality, exposing her sodden cunt to him.

"You don't have to—"

She can't even finish the sentence before his face is buried between her thighs, his tongue spreading her open and feasting on her unashamedly. He could tell that she was getting close by the time he came, so he didn't want to waste any time and risk her losing it.

It's hard for her to hold her head up off of the bed to look down at him, but she holds out for as long as she can because seeing him looking up at her with his tongue lapping up his own cum that drips from her is undoing in and of itself. Knowing he close she was before, once he's swallowed all of the release that was dripping from her hole, he moves his attention up to her clit. The difference is immediately noticeable in how she tenses up in his hold and starts to grind her pussy against his face in a desperate plea for more, more, more.

Although his cheeks are burning scarlet from coming prematurely, it is all forgotten in her mind and replaced by the budding pleasure building in the pit of her tummy. His lips close around her clit and suck hard, his tongue flicking against it repeatedly, and she can't help but throw her head back against the mattress in ecstasy. It has her breath turning from a steady, deep rhythm to heavy pants that are never enough. From his place down low, he watches her back arch and exaggerate the size of her breasts as they fall up and down with the dramatic breaths she takes.

He parts from her for only a second to murmur in between kisses placed on her sticky inner thighs, "Could stay here all night, baby, y'taste so fucking good."

The arms he has wrapped around her thighs rug her closer to his face, and he begins to lose himself in it now. Whenever she sneaks a glance down at him, his eyes are closed and the movements of his tongue and lips on her clit are executed with a practiced perfection. God, she cannot believe that she has him all to herself. Now that she knows he's with her for the long haul, she finds it difficult to wrap her head around the fact that she is the only one who gets to experience this with him. Plenty of women and men take lingering looks at him whenever they're out in public, but his eyes never stray from her. Hers is the only body he will kneel before to worship like a devout believer praying at an altar before the Almighty.

She babbles incoherently as he lifts her hips up from the bed and eats her like a man starved, licking and sucking at her puffy clit like he'll never get the chance to do it again. He's in a trance at this point. Even when she whines his name and reaches down to grab a handful of his hair to tug on, he doesn't react or look up at her, he just continues his relentless assault on her sensitive cunt until she starts to feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm stirring inside of her.

Having been warmed up for it by him fucking her, it doesn't take much to get her back to where she'd been before he came. She was already easy to rile when they were strangers to each other's bodies, but now that he knows her better than he's ever known a partner before, he could get the job done in less than two minutes if he wants to. And, he thinks that just might happen tonight if the way she's saying his name and clawing at his shoulders has anything to say about it.

"Harry!" she sobs, "M'gonna come—fuck—right there!"

One more flick of his tongue against her clit as his lips suck hard around it and she is sent careening over the edge into oblivion with nothing to tether her to reality except for him. She digs her nails into his shoulders as she jerks and tenses with every pulsating wave of her climax. It robs her of her breath, leaving her with nothing to do but writhe throughout it all and leave her mouth fallen open to sing her praises to him with what little breath she manages to take in. It's the type of orgasm that wipes the slate clean and empties her mind of every worry it held onto prior to this. The hit on Saturday, Alanis leaving the country, either of them being hurt on the next job—none of it can reach her.

When the final peak of it drops her back off into her body, he remains between her thighs, ever the diligent lover, to help her through the aftershocks before she becomes too sensitive to handle his touch for a bit. It isn't until she pulls on his hair, mumbling a soft, "Too much," at him while she jerks her hips away, that he pulls away. The back of his hand wipes his mouth and chin to clean it of the mixture of his cum and her slick arousal.

With the absence of their moans and the sounds of their bodies converging, the room rings with silence as he crawls back up the length of her body and collapses onto her chest with a tired sigh. She accepts him with open arms, her mind too muddled from her climax to even realize that this is the first time he's cuddled with her. His body is a furnace atop hers, and she savors every second of the warmth seeping into her body, the thin layers of sweat coating them blending at each place they connect.

It takes a long time for either of them to say anything.

Harry lays with his head cradled against her heaving chest, eyes closed, and takes it all in. Every word, every touch, every kiss—he rewinds the events of the night and relives them until he has them memorized inside and out. The burnt hand slides up the side of her waist until it finds one of the hands resting on his shoulders, removing it for the sake of entwining their fingers together.

Meanwhile, Y/N lies beneath him in utter shock.

Tonight went in the opposite of every direction she assumed it would. The aforementioned shock doesn't mean she is displeased by the turn of events, not in the slightest, but she can't say that their previous track record indicated any of this going as smoothly as it has.

"Can I tell y'something?"

His voice is the first to break the silence.

A lazy smile appears on her face as she cranes her neck to allow herself to meet his gaze. His head is tilted back, her breast a soft cushion beneath it, and his heavy-lidded eyes never stray from her face.

"Anything," she says.

There's a pause, then—

"I stole your knives."

She sits up as much as their current position will allow with her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Her upper body is supported on her elbows when she sits up, disrupting his comfortable spot on her chest in favor of checking his face for any sign of dishonesty or playful teasing. There is only honesty found in his unflinching stare.

"What?"

He sighs, pushing himself up so that he's no longer bearing all of his weight on her body and, instead, braces most of it on his arms while he lays between her legs.

"After I brought you home from Leo's place," he clarifies, "when y'were too distracted with Alanis and Zayn to notice, I stole them."

"Why?"

In her heart, she already knows the answer to that question, but she must ask. For the sake of the heart that aches for him at the mere thought of his possible reasoning for doing such a thing, she must ask.

He says softly, "I didn't want you to hurt yourself again."

That statement alone could be replayed and analyzed in the back of her mind until the end of time. How could he claim he never cared when they fought last night if everything else he says when they talk contradicts it? First, it was him sparing her life, then giving her rent money, then saving her from being tortured and murdered at Leo's hand, and countless other actions no terrible man would bother going through with. If he's a monster, then why was he the only one to see her drowning and extend a hand to pull her from the rough current?

"You know what I think?" she asks.

He doesn't dare respond with anything other than a glance. Should this go south in the way he's assuming it will—because, let's be honest, it always goes south eventually when it comes to him—he doesn't want to say anything more to ruin it than he already has. She's probably preparing to scold him for assuming she couldn't handle her urges on her own, for assuming she needed to be looked after like a child—

"I think you're a good man, Harry."

Everything stops at that.

The thoughts racing around in his head, his heart hammering against his ribcage in his chest, and every other part of him that has been on alert to assess the next threat for the past decade—it all stops, and, for the first time since he was dragged into this abhorrent world of murder and heartache, he can breathe.

No one has ever said that to him. Growing up, it was because it was a given. He was a sweet boy, a mama's boy, and the few times he got in trouble were due to misunderstandings and typical childhood mood swings. So, no one felt the need to point it out. But, after he began "working" for Leo, everyone pointed out the opposite. Everyone called him a monster, not that he ever disagreed, and he welcomed it. The more people who feared him, who loathed him, the better. The distance would protect him. Everyone he's met in the last ten years has come to the same consensus that he is a terrible man worthy of nothing. Until her.

"You're just a good man who's been forced to become someone he's not," she whispers, "and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that, but I do now." Her hand reaches down to brush the hair hanging in his eyes out of his face as she looks at him with a softened gaze. Tears flood her eyes once more, and she wishes she could get through it without becoming overwhelmed with emotion, but she can't. Her voice even trembles when she says, "And I love you so much."

He cannot do anything but stare at her with every word he wants to say stuck in the back of his throat, barred from coming out until he processes what she said and allows the full emotion of it to rush through him. And even though he can't say it back yet, hearing it from her over and over tonight has reached a place in his threat he thought was long since dead.

His mouth opens to speak, but he's cut off.

The sound of his phone ringing where he left it in the living room cuts through the blissful haze created by the night they've spent together, and she can instantly feel him tensing up on top of her. His eyes shut, and it's almost as if he pretends that if he stays as still as possible, nothing will have to change. But, of course, they have a harsh reality to face whenever either of their phones ring, so he has no choice but to part with her to answer it.

"Stay here, baby," he murmurs, then pushes himself off of her and stalks off toward the living room in pursuit of his phone.

Unlike the night at the race track, Harry doesn't keep a distance between them once he picks up the call. He actually comes back into the room and sits at the end of the bed as he hits the button to answer it. She doesn't invade his privacy by crawling up from behind and wrapping her arms around him as she wishes to, but she does watch him throughout for any signs of it being Leo or Garrett calling them to action.

She can't hear what the person on the other end of the line is saying, but with the way his brows raise and his eyes widen, she assumes the worst. She assumes that Garrett is calling to tell them that they have to get in the car and drive to the place where the hit will take place as soon as possible.

Harry nods his head along to whatever the person is saying, even glancing over his shoulder at her once or twice. But, much to her surprise, he doesn't hide his true feeling from her by schooling his face into the typical mask of neutrality.

“Can I bring someone with me?” he asks, then spins a little white lie in order to convince them to let him bring her along. “I know it’s supposed to be family only, but I just got married yesterday. I’d like my wife to come along.”

Her heart begins to pound at the thought of the title he just placed on her. Even if it’s not the truth.

A second later, he says, "Good. We'll be there tonight."

-

The whole car ride over, which ended up being a little over an hour, he briefed her on where they were going and why they were going there. As soon as the call dropped, he was quick to reassure her that it wasn't Leo or Garrett calling upon them for their services. She watched in confusion as he stood up from the bed and began getting dressed, digging through the dresser drawers for a clean set of casual clothes as he told her to do the same.

It wasn't until she stood from the bed and began dressing beside him, slipping on a loose pair of jeans and one of his vintage band tees, that he offered any form of an explanation for the interruption. Apparently, it was the same place or person that called him the night on the race track when he had a "family emergency", the only difference this time being that she was allowed to peek behind the curtain and know what was going on.

Harry stuffed his gun back into the holster he switched from his dirty pants to his new ones, saying to her as he searched the room for his backpack, "My mother's in a nursing home. Whenever they call, I go. M'sorry to cut our Christmas short, but they called with good news. I'll explain it all in the car. C'mon."

With that, he grabbed her arm by the wrist and pulled her along to follow him. They made it all the way out of the apartment, into the elevator, and to the top level of the garage where he always kept his cars parked before he proceeded with his promised explanation. It was all a bit jarring, honestly. To receive such pivotal information in a matter of seconds, all while her head was still reeling from the night they shared, dizzied her.

They were about ten minutes into the ride when he spoke again.

"She has Alzheimer's," he said, cutting her a sorrowful look before looking back at the road. "When I was eighteen, she needed to be put into full-time care. S'why I had to borrow so much money from Leo, I couldn't afford any of it at the time. I mean, what eighteen-year-old living in the states can?" The music playing from the phone he plugged into the aux cord filled the gaps in speech as she stared at him with watering eyes. "Anyway, they called and said she had a fall last month. Broke her hip and needed surgery, that's why I left so fast. But, this time, it's good. The nurse said she's been lucid for hours. It never usually happens for any longer than thirty minutes with her, so by the time I get there, she doesn't even know who I am."

That's what led her here, standing hand in hand with him in the lobby of the nursing home with her head spinning from the overload of information dumped on her.

That was what Leo had to keep him in it, wasn't it? It didn't make sense to her why he stayed if he was so close to killing himself as a way out at one point, but, now, everything clicks. If he killed himself, his mother would be left with no one to pay for her care, and if he left...It's the same situation she faced with Alanis. It's Leo's best tactic at getting people to obey him—find out who they love and keep them under the threat of death or torture at all times should the person working under him step out of line.

From what she knows of Alzheimer's and Dementia patients, terminal lucidity is often a sign of death waiting right around the corner, but she doesn't dare to say that to him. How could she ruin this ray of sunshine that has found its way into his life after years of perpetual night?

He squeezes her hand hard in his, tapping his foot against the tiled floor to the anxious beat of his heart, and keeps searching down the long hallway for the nurse that said she'd go and ask her if she wanted to see her visitors.

"It's been, like, seven years since she remembered me," he says with a smile growing on his face. "Do y'think she'll remember me now?"

Y/N rests her chin on his shoulder and looks up at him with a smile to match his own.

"If they're saying she's lucid, I don't see why she wouldn't."

It's difficult for her to enjoy the happiness emanating from him. All she can think of is how young he was when it all began and how terrified he must've been. He told her on the car ride over that his dad never spoke to them again once she got the diagnosis, leaving him to handle everything in his absence, and it made her heart snap in two. He was just a boy. He's never had the chance to truly live as an adult, every second has been consumed by the debt, Leo, and murdering people against his will, and it enrages her. If the promise of his imminent downfall weren't already planned out, she'd likely steal his gun and hunt their boss down herself for stealing his life away.

He saw a sweet young boy in need of help, desperate to latch onto any older man he could out of a need for a father figure to replace the one that abandoned him, and chose to destroy him rather than lend a hand. So, while Harry smiles and waits in excitement for the nurse to bring them to his mother, she's trying not to cry for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

The sound of a woman's gentle voice breaks her from her trance.

"Mr. Styles?" she asks, then turns her gaze to her. "Mrs. Styles?"

The ring sitting on her left hand is an old one he dug out of the jewelry stand in the bathroom. It isn't what most people would view as a traditional wedding ring, but it was the only one he had that fit her ring finger, so it would have to work. If anyone questioned him, he'd happily tell them fuck right off. The nurse's unbreaking stare makes her realize she forgot to take off the sunglasses he gave her, and she reaches up to snatch them off of her face.

It was dark outside, but she put them on on the off chance that she'd cry more tonight and need to hide her puffy red eyes from any curious passerby. And, considering the fact that she was two seconds from shedding tears from merely thinking of what he's gone through, that wasn't an unrealistic worry to have.

"Yes?" Harry responds.

The badge clipped to the front of her pink scrub shirt reads, "Kaitlyn," and she smiles so widely, her eyes crinkle at the sides from behind the thick lenses of eyeglasses.

"Come with me."

It takes a decent minute or so to get from the lobby to the open door to his mother's assigned room. The nurse had to use her badge to swipe them into the patient's side of the of building, explaining away about their safety precautions to protect the inhabitants as both of them ignored her in favor of their own thoughts. Down another long hallway of rooms, to the left, and there it is. Her name is written on a dry-erase board hanging from the front of the door.

Elise.

What a lovely name, she thinks to herself.

Kaitlyn comes to a stop outside of the threshold and offers them a bright smile as a parting gift, saying, "She's waiting for you. She just took her sleeping meds, so she'll probably be out pretty soon, but you've got thirty minutes before visiting is done, so enjoy."

Harry walks in ahead of her with his gloved hand still holding on tight, arm extending behind to guide her in after him as he hurries into the room with an excitement that cannot be contained within it. The first thing she sees are walls covered from top to bottom with artwork. Paintings, drawings, sketches, and more framed forms of art that cover the beige walls and enliven them with color. It makes sense now that she sees how his mother chose to decorate her room why Harry has such an artistic, romantic soul.

And when she turns her attention over to the woman sitting up in a reclining chair, even deteriorating with age and sickness, Harry's good looks make even more sense to her. Long hair the same shade as his, following the same loose curl pattern, is streaked with grays and braided in two sides.

"Mum," he says as a way of greeting.

Their smiles are exactly the same, she soon realizes. Dimples form on either side of her lips as they pull away from her teeth in a grin, and her two front teeth are a tad bit longer than the others beside them. Just like his.

She holds out her hands in an invitation for him to come closer.

"My baby boy," Elise says softly.

Neither of them is sure how lucid she is, whether or not she knows he's not still an eighteen-year-old kid or younger even, but he got what he wished for the past seven years. His mother remembers who he is. For once in his adult life, he doesn't come to visit her only to be met with confusion and violent outbursts. The last time he came here, she was so high off of the pills they gave her in her recovery from hip surgery that when she woke up to see him sitting at her bedside in the middle of the night, she began screaming and throwing every nearest object she could reach at the "intruder"

The two of them share a lingering embrace, and Y/N doesn't do much other than take in the small room, picking at the sleeve of the shirt she stole from him to keep her hands occupied.

When they pull apart, Elise's eyes land on her and narrow. They scan up and down, almost analytically, until she seems to get a general grip on who the woman standing in front of her is. She inevitably comes to the conclusion that she is a stranger to her but not to her dear son.

"This is my girlfriend," Harry says. He stares at her with affection shining through in his eyes and reaches out his hand to beckon her closer. "Her name is Y/N. We were just exchanging our Christmas gifts"—a subtle wink direction at her while he brings her over to the same side of the recliner chair he stands on—"when Kaitlyn called me."

There's a moment of silence.

"Are those mine?"

Y/n follows the path of Elise's finger pointing to the center of her chest and finds that the sunglasses Harry gifted her last month are the subject of interest.

He squeezes her hand a few times in his before letting it go to kneel beside his mother.

"They are," he says quietly, which is news to Y/N. "You told me when I was twenty to give them to the woman I want to marry...I think she's the one, Mum. You'll love her once you two get talking for a bit."

Elise watches her for a couple more seconds before settling her attention back on her son and nodding in acceptance of his choice. It must be overwhelming—meeting your grown son and his girlfriend for the first time after years of not knowing who you are or where you live except for short moments of clarity that never last more than thirty minutes. The last time she was fully lucid in his presence, he was on the cusp of adolescence and adulthood. His hair was overgrown, shaggy and wild with the same curls growing from her head, and his eyes were brighter back then. It was before Leo had broken him.

When she looks around the room, Y/N notices framed pictures on her bedside table and ones that hang on the walls between art pieces carefully chosen from her large collection locked away in a storage unit he pays for monthly. It isn't so bad, but when she pays attention, it saddens her. The carpet is stained in places, whether it be with blood or urine, there's no way to tell, but the smell is suffocating. Clearly, she's had many accidents relating to incontinence, and the staff must not properly clean the rug enough to keep the stench from permeating through the air of the closed area.

It starts to get so bad to her over the next minute, she feels the need to hold her breath, and she can't stand it for another second before she has to excuse herself.

"Um, I'm gonna go to the ladies' room," she says with a forced smile, then shoots him a look that tells him not to worry about her. "Be right back."

Neither of them puts up a fight when she turns to walk out of the room, they're far too distracted with each other to notice the undercurrent of tension that lives within her at the moment. The sense of sickness persists the entire way down the hall until she passes through the double doors Kaitlyn had to swipe her badge to get them through. She isn't concerned with getting back to Elise's room at the moment, though. Her main concern is whether or not she can stifle the sickness rising in her throat.

Thankfully for her, the strong scent is evaporated once she reaches the bathrooms stationed at the front lobby and replaced with the overpowering disinfectant used to wipe down the mirrors, sinks, toilets, and floors. It's unpleasant but not nearly as bad as she found the scent of urine in the hall of patient rooms.

Y/N comes to a halt in front of one of the mirrors, bracing her hands against the sink, and takes deep breaths in and out of her mouth until she feels stable enough in her ability to keep her food down. The relief of knowing she won't have to throw up releases the tension that built in her shoulders and neck, allowing her to sigh a heavy breath of relief and turn away from the sink now that she knows she won't be sick.

Her head hangs low as she turns to lean against the porcelain, her fingers gripping it hard enough to turn her knuckles white, and tries to calm herself amidst all that has happened today. From beginning to end, it took her for enough twists and turns to give her whiplash.

Hopefully, she won't feel sick again when she goes back in there, but she doesn't have any other choice. It's his mother. His mother he avoided mentioning to her like the plague and didn't trust her knowing was alive until tonight. The fact that he brought her here to meet her while she's lucid is an honor she could never thank him enough for bestowing upon her. Not to mention, the sunglasses, him calling her his girlfriend, and the lie he told to the nurses about her being his new wife.

A subdued little smirk finds its way to her face as she lifts her head up and turns to make her way back to the patient rooms, but something hanging on the wall catches her eye.

It's a dispenser for feminine hygiene products.

And that is all it takes for her to be stopped in her tracks. She typically gets prone to nausea in the days before her period, but not without the presence of dull cramps that don't require any more than a dose of over-the-counter pain medication. This nausea she has can't be her period, not if she doesn't have any other symptoms or even a little spotting in her panties.

The longer she looks at the dispenser, the more it dawns on her what might be happening to her.

She didn't get her period in November, did she? It's most often toward the end of the month, so she didn't worry about it, but with everything that's been going on, she got so distracted that she—

Her hand slaps over her mouth as she hurries out of the restroom and flees for the colder night air in hopes that it'll cool her down from the anxiety causing her to perspire beneath her clothes. Going back to the memory of her last period verges on impossible considering the more important information she's had to keep track of in the time since the middle of October, but she knows it didn't come last month. And if her last period was two weeks before Halloween and she vomited her guts out after being drugged by Tate?

The wind blows cold against her stunned face, and she can't do anything but pace around in a blind panic.

She took the pill regularly every single day, and she made sure of that, but Halloween night was the only time she fucked up. The alarm for her pill is seven in the afternoon, and it wasn't much later that she was on her knees puking into a trash can. That paired with the fact that she and Harry had sex first thing in the morning—

"Fuck..."

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #getaway car #dark!harry #don’t worry darling #fanfiction

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of February. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) A Sudden Desire | Explicit | 2558 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Whiskey (Kingsman).

Save a horse, ride a cowboy.

2) Whipped | Not Rated | 2595 words

It seems to be a normal day at scenting Inc, but the visit of a certain Omega gives everyone a different look on their boss.

3) Want Another Drink?| Mature | 3528 words

Note: Please take note of any trigger warnings and tags.

Louis finds his way to a club in town, wondering what this night could entail.

4) Historical Kisses, Unforgettable Night | Explicit | 3590 words

Harry has a thing for pregnancy.

He loves the fact that omegas are able to create and bring life to the world, even as fucked up as it is.

So when he spots a pregnant omega in Avenus orium he has to get close to him.

5) 3 2 1 Let's Begin! | Explicit | 3985 words

He went until Harry was red with it, moaning and shifting in his chair. And if Louis knew what Harry liked, he knew his tells even more. The second Harry’s leg twitched just so Louis withdrew his hand and dropped it to his side, Harry’s back arching off of the chair as he was denied any more pleasure so close to his release.

“Fuck,” Harry whined. Louis laughed.

6) Until I See You | Not Rated | 4475 words

Louis and Harry are college sweethearts who live on different continents. Louis makes a sudden, impulsive decision to go on a trip.

7) Excuse Me, Green Tea? | Not Rated | 4765 words

Harry is sure there's a magnetic force pulling him in. So he decides to run a meeting at the café to clear up his doubts and know why he can't get the waiter out of his mind.

8) Obviously, Genuinely | Explicit | 5492 words

Louis never thought he was gay, it just hadn't crossed his mind like that. That is until Harry comes along and discovers it for him. Harry decides that he sees fit into sending Louis into a gay panic causing all sorts of tension and confusion.

9) Back To You | Explicit | 11705 words

"Never underestimate Fate, Louis. As it is one of the things that people take too lightly as. Always remember little omega that no matter what happens, what's yours will always find its way to you. And if it doesn't, it was never yours in the first place."

10) Uncomfortable Truths | Explicit | 18125 words

“I can get him. I know I can, that part’s easy. But what the fuck do I do with him?”

“Do you want an honest answer or a good one?” Zayn asks.

Harry considers his options. “A good one?”

“Once you get him, you do all you can to make him happy.”

“And the honest one?”

“You sink your teeth in. Deep. And you hold on for dear life, because good things rarely last.”

11) Windsor Peaks | Not Rated | 23801 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Harry Styles/OMC.

Louis Tomlinson lost his parents when he was 8 years old. He was moved to an orphanage in London where he stayed until he was old enough to leave. Louis moved back to his home town of Windsor Peaks, to study and make a life for himself where his parents had lived and wanted to raise him.

Louis life was going well, he was happy, until two detectives from London turn up. Harry Styles and Scott Wolf are investigating a string of murders and a car accident that lead them to straight to Louis and his past.

Is Louis a suspect or is there something more sinister going on.

12) The Luna of Which Pack? | Mature | 72696 words

“This is cute, Lou. Really loving this faux innocent look going on. But if you ever want to get back to your beloved Simon, you better start talking. I may be kind to my family, but you, darling, are not family.”

Internally, Harry began patting himself on the back. He praised himself for not only besting the cunning, snarky omega, but also maximizing on this potentially negative opportunity that arose.

Then, Louis chirped up with a slick grin. “Perfect. I’ll shut up. Can I sleep in your bed again? It’s really comfy. Reeks of lonely ruts, though. You should really change your sheets more often, you know.”

13) Nothing Quite Hits Like You | Explicit | 81098 words

For many centuries, Inferis Lamia had been a college strictly for higher magic alphas, where most rulers of the Underworld had reached their Divine Enlightenment to become the alphas they were now. However, that year, for the first time since it was founded many centuries ago, the academy would welcome omegas from the Underworld, giving them the same opportunities alphas had, the same education.

14) Drops of Jupiter | Mature | 121826 words

In a small, sleepy town ruled by prejudice, Louis Tomlinson runs his grandmothers shop for the occult. He finds comfort in his tarot cards, his friends, and a dog that he doesn't have room for. He thought the worst he'd have to deal with would be bigotry, until a new sheriff arrives with a headstrong little girl that's impossible not to fall in love with.

But what happens when a string of break-ins leads to a brutal attack, and the towns' darling is murdered right under their Sunday hats? A murder that just so happens to bear the same modus operandi as similar homicides in neighbouring states. Has the killer been circling Virginia, or is he a local of Lavender Hills?

And what will Louis do when the charming Sheriff Styles starts to suspect him of such a heinous crime?

15) No Hello Just Goodbye | Mature | 142502 words

Louis had 9 months to try and convince himself out of it, but he knew from the very moment he saw the dreaded 2 lines that he couldn't raise the baby. Not when the conception took place against his own will.

Adoption was the only answer. He had no problems handing over his child nor did he endure any sort of regret. Or did he? 4 years after giving birth Louis sets out to search for his baby but what he finds instead is something he totally didn't expect...... Love.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry fics #fic res #blp fic recs #blp monthly fic recs

[mrs-toohot]

This week's episodes: Live react

Candace is taking my man on a date? I'm gonna have thoughts.

(Also my MC's name is Sophie)

Firstly, he'd better say no.

Okay, so he can't say no. Fuck.

Awww 'the look on his face turns from shock to reassurance when he notices your expression'

"You know you have nothing to worry about, right? You and I are solid." aw omg stop??? so cute

"I'd never break your heart, Sophie, you know that, right?"

Oh we're getting three stress tests

"What if Wesley is already making out with Candace?" Nora STFU you bitch lol. If we were friends that would be funny, but we're not so shut your slut whore bitch mouth.

How insecure do you have to be to press the button because you found out that she's 22 and American? Like wtf? Yeah cool she's a model, but Jesus Christ, do you really think your man is going to fall over himself that easily? HE'S ON TV! HE'S BEING JUDGED FOR HIS ACTIONS!

'No, I trust Wesley' is obviously my choice.

"There's nothing hotter than a guy who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to go for it."

Yeah, cool, but this is just telling me that she wants him. Again, I am not phased.

Again, trusting Wesley. This is easy af

'Candace is perfection incarnate' Yeah but she's also got pink hair and my man's a CEO like fr he wants a WOMAN not a GIRL.

Okay as predicted, Candace is Cassia's ex (Lucky Candace... damn...)

'If she sees even a small opening with Wesley, she'll jump on the opportunity'.

Um yeah but she's not gonna.

God, this would be so much harder on a loyal Ryder route. I'd be genuinely shaking in my uggs rn.

Yay, I passed the easiest test in the world

Seriously you would have to be insanely jealous to fail this, the fuck???

Oh sweet we get $10k!!!

Ancient Greece Party!!! Writers should've made it a Roman Empire party just to keep it current and up to date

Amari - I've always wanted to dress like a goddess Antoine - You don't do that already? Could've fooled me.

EXCUSE! ME! SIR! YOU'D BETTER HAVE THOSE LINES ON MY ALTERNATE ROUTE!

Why is Wesley literally in underwear tho

NO HE DID NOT JUST GREET ME LIKE THAT

"Sophie! There's my girlfriend!"

"I'm not interested in pursuing a taken person".... Why does this fill me with dread. What is she going to do? Is she gonna try and break us up and THEN pounce on him?

Cute toga, omg that one hairstyle (you know which one) it is CUTE

"His jaw goes slack as he takes you in" dear god who is writing these LIs and can you please take over LITG

OH HE LOOKS SO FUCKING HOT FJDKHGSBF

HE'S GOT A LITTLE LIGHTNING BOLT EARRING GUYS LOOK AT HIM

You suddenly feel shy under his smouldering gaze. (Oooof)

'I can't remember if I've ever mentioned, but my parents own a hotel nearby'

Yes babe you did but please take me aside and tell me exactly what you're planning on doing to me once we get there.

I am teetering on the edge of BFFs with Cassia, and then I'm hoping I can jump her bones. She's so hot I stg

Amari's outfit is so boring

NORA'S OUTFIT IS SO CUTE

Elena's outfit is so mid

ANTOINE'S GOT WINGS bhfkdsfasdhvdbs HAHAHAHHAHAHAH he's so fucking extra I can't

SLAY NAOMI I LOVE YOUR BUTTERFLIES

ONCE AGAIN ZAYN'S OUTFIT IS TOO MUCH he's got a lion head as a dick cover wtf hfkdbsahs

Excuse me while i thirst over cassia deeply

Blah blah blah playing beer pong with Wesley

WYM YOU'RE STARTING TO SOUND LIKE NAOMI

WHY YOU BEEN SPENDING TIME WITH HER

THIS IS MAKING ME MORE JEALOUS THAN THAT DATE EVER DID

bdhsfksdahfsd me distracting him though ahehehehehehhe

"That was a dirty trick, love."

Yeah, I know, that's why I did it. Now do it back.

OH ANTOINE'S TELLING AMARI HE LOVES HER aaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwww

Since when are they that serious the fuck

"Should I say something to Amari?" About Antoine being noncommittal? When he's been all in for me since day one in my other playthrough? Nah babe, I'm good. I believe it.

Aww Wes brought me brekkie. OJ.

AWWW HE WANTS TO LEARN TO COOK FOR ME BECAUSE HE'S SHIT AT IT of course he is, he's never had time to cook because he's been too busy working.

WESLEY SLEEPS NAKED WESLEY SLEEPS NAKED OH MY GOODNESS HE'S GOING TO MAKE ME BREAKFAST WITHOUT ANY CLOTHES ON

Oh Lana's got snitching to do sigh.

WHAT THE FASHIONNOVA IS ZAYN WEARING HSKADFHBSDA

Oh Zayn and Nora in the suite?? I see I see.

okay i forgot to write during the workshop because Wesley

Literally stop Antoine and Amari are wearing matching outfits CEASE

Okay wait...

I decided to stay out of it, and Zayn and Nora got back. Lana annoucned they broke the rules, and then the game glitched back to my conversation with Amari about Antoine in the bathroom???

URGH i had to restart the episode.

skipping skipping skipping

Even though I'm replaying this i still forgot to take screenshots of the workshop. But trust me Wesley's dialogue is REALLY CUTE

muaahahhaha the benefit of getting a glitch is that now I know NOT TO TRUST ZAYN AND NORA

ha 'IMMEDIATELY WESLEY IS ON YOUR SIDE'

They learned from last season where people got SO MAD at Liam & Henri hahahahah

AW IS RYDER GOING!?!?!?

UM UM UM WHAT THEFUCK IS WESLEY GOING ON ABOUT? "What if Sophie walks away once I tell her?!"

BABE TELL ME WHAT!??!?!?

SOMEONE GET A BETTER SCREENSHOT THAN THIS PLEASE HUFDSHKAVFSBJASD I NEED A NEW SCREENSAVER

#thth2 #too hot to handle game #ththg #ththgame #thth #thth game #thth wesley

[justthinkingaboutlouis]

Hi Swathi, I saw that you were going to sleep so here is Zayn's recap for you (that you didn't ask) when you wake up:

Here is the link with the documentary and performance on ig. If you want only the documentary here is the video on twitter.

So after the DJ (who btw was in Louis first AFHF), they play the mini documentary where Zayn talk about how excited he was to sing in this performance after all this years etc.

Then Zayn appeared with this outfit, the coat was gone like after the first song or something like that and he look like this.

According to twitter the setlist was My Woman (twitter link), Alienated, Birds On A Cloud, Concrete Kisses x, Dreamin x, Gates Of Hell (twitter link) (I really just was listening without paying attention to the order).

He thanks the fans for the support and for waiting for him. It was all so good and end it so soon for all of us but it was worth it.

He got confused at one point on what song was next.

This was a few of the screen graphics x x x.

The fan project that Zayn never saw because he left without warning.

That is what I can remember. I hope you have a nice day/afternoon/night :)

CC... YOU ATE AN ANGEL😘😘 THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE RECAP.

Finally I was able to catch-up with zono!

How cool is that! She has now Dj'd zouis shows🤩 and the documentary starting somewhere in Pennsylvania had me😂 and hearing Zayn's thoughts and him sharing his rehearsals and just goofing around the farm is everything and absolutely loved how he says we are all just human beings not everyone is perfect and don't get me wrong even though there is pressure on him for returning on stage after 9 years, he seems so at peaceful and just be happy to be playing his album live which is just him and without the in ears fucking hell Zayn bro how did you manage to do that?

He looked so good and the coat was gone during 1st song 😂 and absolutely loved the screen and visuals throughout the show. His band is amazing all girls🥰 he thanked after every song and did the bow at end of the send and left just like that😂. His vocals are just amazing and my god he just smashed live performance the crowd was so happy to be there and hear him live the live streamer was so sweet with her commentary I love her.

Sad that he didn't see the fan project in real-time but I saw it was being recorded so he sure has seen it by now I think.

Again you're an angel thank you so so much for the great recap. Have a nice day/noon/night angel CC.

#CC<3 #lovely mutuals #zono