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lovebugism · 7 months

Note

Okay maybe Eddie bought a silly couple costumes for himself and r (something cute with “Why aren’t you wearing a costume?” and “I’m not wearing that.”) 🩷

ty for requesting lovie! happy fictober! ily! — eddie buys you a costume you don't feel pretty enough to wear and the gang crashes your cuddling session (hints of smut, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 2.5k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Your bare bodies stick together beneath a decade-old quilt. Eddie’s nice enough to let you use his lanky bicep as a makeshift pillow while you cuddle on the couch. His other hand hovers over your face, smoothing out the subtle furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb.

“What’s this face for, huh?” he singsongs into the heavy, golden, post-sex silence of the trailer. His smile is swollen and crooked and barely there. It’s a very hushed sunshine compared to your distant pout.

“‘Cause I still feel bad,” you confess, voice so soft it’s nearly inaudible. Your feet knock with Eddie’s when your anxious legs entwine with his. “I made you miss that movie.”

“You didn’t make me miss shit,” Eddie laughs, assertive but not unkind. His warm palm spreads over your cheek. His chocolate eyes dance between both of yours. “I stayed in ‘cause I wanted to, alright? I wanted to spend time with you.”

“You called me a succubus,” you tease with a gentle giggle.

He had, though he doesn’t have much recollection of it. You looked far too pretty underneath him, and he’d been far too close to his orgasm.

His hips rutted sloppily against yours, his rhythm gone totally stupid after feeling you gush around him. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” he babbled into the sticky skin of your neck, voice tighter and higher than usual. “You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, baby? Pussy’s so good… I’d fucking— I’d do anything you wanted me to— shit.”

His legs are still numb from the mind-blowing climax he had a moment later.

Eddie’s chuckle is louder and more boyish than yours. It fills the trailer with sunlight. “Well, yeah. ‘Cause you are. Which means I’d much rather be here with you than at The Hawk with all those other schmucks.”

He kisses you to seal his promise — a chaste peck upon your smiling mouth. It’s beautifully innocuous compared to how good he was making you feel hardly more than five minutes ago.

“I know you don’t like those movies anyway, so…”

“That’s not true,” you argue with a very believable pout.

His gaze goes sympathetic. “Babe… You almost cried when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street the other day.”

“No, I didn’t!” You most certainly did.

“You said you weren’t gonna sleep ever again.”

“I like horror movies ‘cause you like horror movies, dummy.”

The term of endearment makes him grin. He likes it when you get all mean, though you never really mean it. “Is that so?” he lilts with raised brows that disappear behind his fuzzy bangs. The ends of the umber strands are damp with sweat.

You nod lazily against his arm. His fingers are starting to tingle with numbness, but he loves you too much to move.

“Mm-hmm. That’s how relationships work. Compromise. I tolerate horror movies, and you tolerate—”

“Your Harrison Ford obsession?”

You lose your firmness and get all sheepish. “Shut up…”

“I’m pretty sure they were showing Return of the Jedi in the theater over, right after Sleepaway Camp,” Eddie observes suddenly, brushing stray strands of your wild hair from your temple. “We coulda had a double feature tonight, but you wanted to stay in with little old me.”

“That’s ‘cause I love you a whole lot more than some guy I’ve never met.”

Eddie beams at your words. His eyes start to glitter like he’s won something, and his cheeks speckle pink with pride. He’ll never get tired of hearing you say that. He’ll never get tired of you loving him.

“I’m flattered,” he singsongs and means it.

You smile and lean in to kiss his grin. The boy gasps before you can. He springs up from the couch at a moment’s notice, climbing over you with naked limbs. He flashes you his bare ass just before he tugs on the crumbled pair of boxers left forgotten on the floor.

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, eyes narrowed in curiosity and mouth quirked in amusement. You twist on the couch so you’re propped against the back of it. You clutch the heavy quilt to your naked chest.

“I forgot something,” Eddie mumbles, halfway to himself, then sends you a lighthearted glare over his shoulder. “Don’t move!”

You still, grinning softly at the boy as you peer at him from beneath your lashes. You watch him while he rifles through a plastic bag beside the TV stand. “I got us something while I was at the Halloween store with Harrington earlier,” Eddie explains over the noisy crinkling sound.

“Oh, god…” you murmur.

Eddie laughs and looks at you over his shoulder again. “C’mon, babe. Have a little hope, would you?”

He returns to the couch with a smirk and something he hides behind his back. He grins like a kid when he reveals them to you — two packages of Star Wars themed costumes held in both his hands.

Pictured on one is a guy who looks eerily like Han Solo — complete with the vest, blouse, and holster triad. The other is an uncanny Leia Organa in a skin-tight white suit, beige knee-high boots, and a flowing cape.

You blink at both of them, then at Eddie.

“…I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“Our Halloween costumes!” he exclaims with a beam. “See, I’m gonna be Han Solo— ‘cause I’m, you know, charming and sarcastic and handsome.”

“Don’t forget humble,” you joke with a lovesick grin.

“—And you will be my beautiful, hard-headed Leia Organa.”

You glance again at the package in his right hand, at the pretty woman on the cover. You know you won’t look nearly as good in the costume as she does. Your soft smile flickers.

“Eds…” you mutter in a wavering lilt.

A frown forms between his bushy brows, similar to the one you’d been sporting earlier. “What?”

“I told you I wasn’t gonna dress up this year, remember?” you remind him, shifting awkwardly on the couch and clutching the blanket closer to yourself.

“But it’s Halloween, babe! Why wouldn’t you wear a costume?”

Your mouth opens and closes as you stammer out an excuse. “Because— I don’t know— I’m too… indecisive. Like, that’s a lot of pressure.”

“That’s why I picked for you!” Eddie grins, totally oblivious.

You laugh. It’s a bit cynical but not totally unkind. “I am not wearing that.”

He pouts, like a child or a hurt puppy. “But why not?” he wonders with a crestfallen inflection.

Again, you stammer. “Because— I mean— Just look at her, Eds!” you gesture to the package he holds with a significant focus to the girl on the front. “I don’t look like her!”

He grows from sad to confused. His brows pinch as he tilts his head to the side. His wild curls tickle his bare, pale shoulder. “Oh… kay?” he mutters, trying his best to understand you but not getting it completely.

You huff. Your chest stings as you explain it all to him.

“I’m… I’m not gonna look like the girl on the cover. You know that, right? I’m not— I’m not Princess Leia kind beautiful, you know?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, seemingly agreeing with you and smiling all over again. “You’re a you kind beautiful. That’s what makes you so damn sexy.”

He leans down over you with the intention to kiss you.

Still pouting and inwardly aching, you pull back from him.

“Eddie…” you murmur, still gentle but obviously sadder.

He concedes with a small sigh. The couch cushions dip with his weight when he sits down beside you. He leaves the packages abandoned on the other side of him and gives you his full attention.

“Look… You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, alright? We can stay in for Halloween for all I care. I just… I think it’d be a lot of fun, you know?” the boy rambles with a seriousness that’s typically foreign to him. His palm smooths across your knee over the thick quilt. His lips quirk into a crooked grin. “And I think you’d look… very pretty as my Princess Leia.”

His chocolate eyes twinkle with an undeniable sincerity. It makes your chest feel so warm it burns.

“Yeah?” you mumble, not quite believing him but wanting him to hear him say it anyway.

“Totally,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. He presses a lingering peck to your lips, then melts when he tastes leftover sex upon them.

A switch flips within him then. His belly twists, and his eyelids get all heavy. His smirk is weighed down by lust as he pulls back from you and shrugs. “I think I could show you better than I could tell you, actually…”

Across the living room, the door busts open.

Sunlight explodes throughout the dim trailer, making the two of you squint.

Steve enters first, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival. “Phone’s off the hook,” he observes, pointing to the telephone lying face up on the table beside the front door.

Eddie had two fingers inside you, and the thing just wouldn’t stop ringing. He grumbled in annoyance when he had to part from you to hang it up.

Steve puts the thing back on the hook while Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle walk in behind him.

Mortified, you watch with wide eyes as your uninvited friends file in. Your grip tightens around the blanket. You use one hand to make sure every inch of your naked body is covered with it.

Eddie doesn’t seem nearly as bothered by it as you are. Instead, he huffs in annoyance and spreads his arms along the back of the couch. They were the ones barging in, after all. If they had a problem with his pale, lanky figure and his thin, plaid boxers, then that was on them.

“Oh. Come in,” he hums, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “Make yourselves at home.”

Robin’s got a thousand-year stare in her eye and a blue, red, and purple mouth. “Can I use your bathroom?” she wavers, voice strained. Her fists are clenched beneath her baggy flannel. They tremble beside her baggier jeans.

“Uh, yeah. Knock yourself out.”

She’s already rushing down the hall before he can get the words out.

The two of you watch her leave and then turn to Steve. He’s an expert in all things Robin Buckley nowadays. He shrugs and tells you, “She had, like, four slurpees while we were waiting on you guys at The Hawk.”

You shift awkwardly like you’re getting scolded. Eddie only laughs.

As all the gang settles around the trailer — Jonathan on the recliner, Nancy on the arm of it, and Steve sitting on the adjacent table — Argyle is the only one without a place to sit. He idles beside the couch, smiling at you with rosy lips and rosier eyes.

“How are you doing today, amigo?” he wonders with a curt nod, as mellow as ever.

You smile up at the boy, not nearly as fazed by the bright style and long raven hair as you used to be. Actually, you’ve grown quite fond of his slurred jokes that don’t really have a punchline because halfway through, he realizes he’s forgotten it entirely.

“Good,” you respond, crossing your arms over the quilt you’ve got bunched at your chest. “You?”

“I’m peachy, brochacho,” he nods back at you. He grins, but the bright expression is weighed down by the weed. The skunky smell entwines with his musky cologne, creating a deep earthy scene that’s much more bearable than the weed alone.

“Not that I’m not thrilled you guys showed up—” Eddie starts with an inflection that would imply otherwise, wide eyes flitting around the room. “—But what the hell are you doing here?”

“You’d know if you answered the phone,” Steve retorts with a scrunched nose, flipping through a random car magazine. The Beemer on the front matches the sunshine yellow of his sweatshirt.

“Well, I was a little busy, Harrington—”

You nudge Eddie before he can finish the stupid joke. Everyone could already hear it anyhow — “I was a little busy, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

He shoots you an innocently confused look. You give him a half-hearted glare in return.

“You guys flaked on movie night, so we brought the movies to you,” Nancy singsongs with a sweet, pink smile.

Jonathan unrolls the folded-up paper bag between his feet. The flimsy cardboard crackles loudly as he rifles through it. He pulls out a number of unblanketed VHS tapes with handwritten stickers glued to the front of them.

“Uh… We got Sleepaway Camp, obviously,” the Byers boy mutters in his usual Byers way. He waves the tape in his hand and sits it off to the side. He reaches into the bag and grabs two more. “Twilight Zone and, uh, Return of the Jedi.”

Eddie is as grateful as he is confused. Movie night wasn’t totally gone, and both of your movies had been seemingly carrier-pigeoned to his trailer, but neither should be out on VHS yet. “How…?” the boy trails off with pinched-together brows.

Argyle answers. “Let’s just say I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy…” he smirks, then swirls his features in puzzlement. It looks like he’s trying to do math in his head. “…Who knows a guy.”

“I can pop some popcorn if you guys wanna, you know, make yourselves decent,” Steve teases with a feigned maliciousness as he hops off the square table. The old thing squeaks under his weight.

Eddie’s retort doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Right. My bad, Stevie. It’s not like you totally barged in on us or anything.”

You shake your head at their bickering, though you’re still smiling quietly to yourself. Eddie shields you while you rise from the couch. You wear the heavy quilt like a dress as you shuffle down the hallway to his bedroom. The thing trails behind you as you go.

“Sorry about them, sweetheart,” Eddie apologizes as soon as the door clicks closed.

He’d wanted to say something earlier, but kept his mouth shut instead of making it a bigger deal. He knew you were bound to be embarrassed — because you almost always tend to be, anyway. He didn’t want to draw attention to the situation, or least of all to you, and make it that much worse.

“’S okay,” you shrug and drop the blanket on the carpet.

Eddie tries not to go all teenage boy at the sight of your naked body, but he nearly loses his mind when you bend over to pick up one of his t-shirts from the floor.

“We did sorta flake on them,” you reason as you tug the cotton over your head. The baggy fabric falls over you like rain.

Eddie shakes his head, mostly at himself. He couldn’t love you more if he tried.

“Only you would blame yourself when those assholes walked in on us,” he laughs, walking the short distance to you and wrapping you in his arms from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your neck. You smell like flowers, sex, and his cologne.

“You’re too sweet for your own good, baby. No wonder those schmucks won’t leave us alone.”

Robin’s voice seemingly comes from within the walls — ‘cause the bathroom is only one room over, and the walls are especially thin. “Rude!” she grouses, voice muffled. “I mean, it’s true, but still.”

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swordsandholly · 6 days

Note

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

#answered #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost cod #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod #simon x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #fem reader #mechanic au

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douceurrrr · 4 months

Text

SILENT LOVE

paring(s): felix catton x shy!black!reader

summary: felix has taken a liking to the “invisible” girl but she’s not invisible to him

warning(s): mdni, oral (female receive), angst, smut, kissing, dirty words, breast play.

the first time he saw you? you were in a local coffee shop he loved to go to, studying with michael gavey who was you only friend at the time. he could remember that you were sitting there, skirt in the middle of your thighs and your braids pulled up in a ponytail. that day you and micheal were going over statistics and micheal had said, “oh look, one of the popular imbeciles.” and you had look up and saw him and connected eyes with him.

all that was going through his mind at that moment is that how is it that he never seen you before? how could he let someone like you slip his mind if he did?

all it took was a cough from michael to pull you back to reality. “don’t get caught up, lovie. people like us are just toys to him.” you took what micheal said that day to heart and shook any thoughts about him away. meanwhile, felix kept you in his mind but he tried not to, especially when his sees you everywhere he goes. felix had made a promise to himself that when he sees you again he’ll gather the courage to ask you out but instantly baled when he saw you at the library.

you looked beautiful. your braids were laid over your shoulder, he eyes traveled down. you had on a shirt that your roommate made you wear, claiming you dress like a nun. it showed your cleavage, making felix bite his lip. you had every intention on forgetting about felix but you had to lock eyes again at the library, he quickly looked away, muttering a “shit” to himself. your heart pounded as you begin to feel what you felt that day at the cafe. you knew you couldn’t study, knowing that he’s near you, so you gathered you things and began to stand from you chair when you hit something hard.

you looked up and it was him. felix. “y/n right?” he begins to say but all you hear is people like us are just toys to him. your didn’t reply back, you just grabbed you bag and continued to walk. felix felt stupid nonetheless, thinking he probably scared you or worse humiliated you. that night in your dorm these images were going through your mind, from his eyebrow piercing to his pink lips, just the thought made your stomach flutter or maybe something else flutter.

same for felix, in his dorm. he thought about the way your skirt would flow in the wind, lifting a little bit to reveal a part of your panties and how your brown skin glowed in the sun. he groaned at the thought of you, trailing his hand down his pants and…

bam. reality hits you as your alarm blares in your room. you look over to see your bonnet in another country, if that wasn’t enough you had a test that day as well, could this day get any worse?

yes. there he was again. he was in the same pub, michael wanted to meet up at. you see him laugh and have a smoke with his friends through the window. you decided to take a deep breath and just walk in. once you did, the door bell rang showing that someone has walked through the pub but thankfully felix hadn’t look up to see who it was. “over here, lovie.” the voice belonged to michael. you walked over to and sat next to him. the table that felix was at a open booth that was behind michael.

“do you think we can choose another table, micheal?” you asked, leg bouncing in nervousness. “no sorry, lovie. everything is taken.” michael says, you frowned but stood your ground. “give me a sum.” michael nodded.

you watch felix’s head flys back, in laughter as farleigh says something in his ear. “um 597 times 300?” you didn’t pay attention to michael’s answer, you just paid attention to the boy. “come on. give me another.” you told him another sum while watching some blond rub against him. felix looks over at her and gives her a fake smile. a part of you wanted him to see you and the other part just wanted him to run to you and kiss you.

you huffed and decided that it was time to go. “I’m gonna head out.” you hummed to micheal, he rolled his eyes and nodded. felix look up for a second, noticing a girl with braids get up and walk towards the door with her coat left in the seat, he instantly knew it was you. “excuse me farleigh, I have to do something right quick.” he says before quickly scooting out the booth and over the table you and micheal were sitting. “michael gavey? right?” michael looked up at felix with an emotionless expression. noticing his expression felix cleared his throat and talked again.

“uhm y/n left her coat and I think it would be nice to give it to her.” michael huffed. “just don’t break her heart.” micheal gave him a serious look. felix nodded and took the coat and ran out the pub.

“y/n!” you turned around, thinking it was michael. but it was him and he knew your name. he had your coat in his hand, you didn’t even notice you left it. “you left this.” he stomach started to feel queasy as your hand brushed against his while grabbing your coat. “thank you, I didn’t even notice.” he smiled, looking down at your lips then you eyes.

“I’m felix.” he chirped. “i know.” you nodded.

“actually I have something to tell you.” he says, taking another step towards you. you looked up at him with those eyes that made his heart warm. “I’m in love with you.”

your breath hitch a bit. you wanted to believe him but back away from him. “Is this a prank or something?” he frowned at your question. you rolled your eyes tears filled your eyes but you sniffed them away. what upset you was that fact that even though he was pulling a prank you would still want him.

“no this isn’t a prank, you really think I’m that types of person?” felix says. “people like you pick on people like me, felix!” even though you were kind of angry he would give anything to hear you say his name again.

“what do you mean people like you?” felix questioned, getting a little mad that someone has picked on you before. “forget it.” you sighed, turned around to walk away but he grabs your arm and turns you around. you looked at him shocked but was even more shocked at what he did next. he closed the gap between you two, grabbing your waist to pull you in. your body tenses up but slowly relaxed as you run your fingers through his hair.

his hands traveled to you ass, squeezing it from underneath your skirt to earn a moan from you. as his lips traveled to you neck you couldn’t believe what was happening. “wait wait.” you whined, feeling his lips on your collarbone. “I don’t understand, why me.”

“Why not you? I’ve loved you ever since that day in the cafe.” he confessed with hands still on your waist. “me too.” you nodded, smiling up at him. felix grabbed your neck and kissed you again, you moaned at the feeling of his hands on you, it’s so much better than your imagination.

“wait we can’t do this here.” you put your hand on his chest, feeling his toned chest. “you’re right.” felix then took your hand in his but you wanted to ask about his friends but didn’t care, you wanted him. he took you to his dorm and neither you nor felix felt like it was real but it was. “this is forward but I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.” your heart pounded in your chest at what he said. felix took your hand and lead you to his bed and sat down with you standing in front of him.

some how you were bold enough to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck. “fuck you’re beautiful.” he groaned before kissing you again. his hand rested at your hips, underneath your skirt. “show me how much you love me.” he whispered into your mouth. you then pushed his chest down to lean down and kiss him. he smiles into the kiss, trailing his hand to you ass with a smack to get a reaction that he was pleased with.

soon enough, you couldn’t take the foreplay and started taking your shirt off. felix watched you yank your shirt off on his lap, leaving you in a lace bra. the color of the bra matched your skin tone really well and made you look like a angel in his eyes. “you don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to.” felix says even though he would love to see your tits. “no it’s fine.” you then unclipped the back of the bra, letting it fall revealing your chest to him. he couldn’t help but to touch them, taking your nipples in between his fingers. “felix please.” he instantly flipped you on your back and started to take your other clothes off, leaving you bare.

you rushed to get his clothes off as well, until he was completely bare. “spread your legs for me, love.” while you spread your legs you took a peek at his cock, it was bigger than you imagined. “pretty pussy.” he muttered. he stared at the dark brown lips along with the pink cunt. “thank you.” you mumbled, shyly.

he started to rub your clit with his thumb earning a moan from you. “feels good?” you bit your lip and nodded as he continued to rub you. he licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. your breath hitch when his tongue made the perfect rhythm. your hand tugged on his brown locks. he groaned at the pain, swirling his tongue around your clit, making you feel like fireworks on the forth of july.

“felix.” you cried out as your body prepares for a release. “m’gonna-” you didn’t even get to finish your sentence as your body finally came to a release, making you whine.

“fuck me, felix.”

with that being said, felix climbs on top of you, starting to postion his cock to your cunt before giving in a powerful thrust with a growl. without a warning he started to pound into your pussy. “fuck felix!” feeling a coil build up in your stomach.

he palmed tour brown tits as he speeds up his thrust. “feel good, love?” he asked while watching you face full up with pleasure. the look on his face alone would make you cum, his eyebrows were clenched while he bit his lip in pure ecstasy.

“I-” he starts, not knowing if he should finish his sentence. “I -shit- I love you.” he whimpers as wave of pleasure hit him. what he said almost made you cum as your toes curl when your close to your end. “I love you to.” you mewled, digging your nails in his back.

it took a couple of more thrusts for you and felix to cum, grunting and moan as the wave hits. felix flipped on the bed, pulling you on his chest. you drew invisible circles on his stomach has he plays with you braids, in between his fingers.

felix breaks the silence. “will you come to saltburn with me?” felix asked, hoping you would say yes. “yes.” you muttered, softly with a smile. felix then wondered what would happen if he never gave you your coat or let you walk away. definitely not this.

#black!reader #woc #fanfic #saltburn #saltburn x reader #saltburn x black!reader #felix catton x black!reader #felix catton #felix catton x reader

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little-diable · 29 days

Text

Sinful mouth – Draco Malfoy (smut)

A small drabble for my Draco lovies. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, reader lost a bet and has to pay the price

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), slight dubcon (but full consent), dom!Draco, degrading, choking

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (1k words)

“Kneel.” His voice filled her bedroom, bright eyes starting her down as his smirk began to widen.

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” She knew she had no way out, forced to follow his command - all because of some stupid bet she has lost. “Why can’t you be normal and ask me to do some other shit for you?”

“There’s that fire you always show me. Good, I was wondering how long it’d take for you to snap. Now it’ll make it even more fun to break you.” She watched him lean back against her dresser, arms crossed in front of his shirt-clad chest. (Y/n) hated the way her body reacted to Draco, how her thighs clenched whenever she heard his voice. “I won’t say it again, (y/n). Kneel.”

“And now?” She had dropped to her knees in an instant, staring up at him as she tried not to pay the way her carpet was already rubbing against her skin any attention. “I don’t have a lot of time, so if you can get this over with.”

He was in front of her within seconds, hand clamped around her throat to draw a shaky and surprised gasp from (y/n). Wide eyes met piercing ones, hers full of confusion, his filled with darkness. A darkness so rich, (y/n) feared it'd swallow her wholly and steal her light.

“It’s your own fucking fault for being this stupid, you had to try and go against me, and you failed. Now be a good girl and pay the fucking price, sweetheart.” Draco’s smile began to widen as he watched her pupils dilate, a sight that left his cock twitching, growing harder in the confines of his trousers. Tonight he’d force his cock down her throat, just like she had always hoped he would, secrets shared with close friends, secrets that had found their way to him years ago. “Keep up this bratty act and see what will happen. We both know you’ve wanted this for years, be happy I’m granting you this wish.”

“What are you talking about?” She could only whisper the words, not daring to use more strength as Draco tightened the grip on her throat. His eyes burned through her, leaving holes in her trembling body, holes that were filled with lust the second a raspy chuckle left him.

“You didn’t think you could hide that crush of yours from me, could you? I’ve always known this little act of yours was nothing but lies, trying to distract me from your obsession with me. Well, tonight’s your lucky night, baby.” Embarrassment tugged on her features, shooting heat through her body as she tried to avert her gaze – without any luck. Draco’s ringed fingers kept holding her in place, staring down at (y/n) with a satisfied grin glued to his lips.

“Now, be a good girl and open that mouth for me.” He let go of her to rise back to his feet. Draco would never do this if he weren’t sure of her longings, he’d never pressure her into doing something this intimate if she’d ask him to stop – which she didn’t. All (y/n) did was run her tongue along her lower lip before she parted her lips, tongue exposed to his piercing eyes.

Her eyes followed the movements of his fingers, how they freed his cock within seconds. Draco had done this numerous times, reach for his cock to fuck his hand to the thought of (y/n), speaking to her as if she was kneeling in front of him, ready to swallow his cock – just like she was now. He stepped back towards her, pushing the pre-cum-bearded tip past her lips, unable to swallow his groan at the warm feeling.

Eagerly she closed her lips around him, she hallowed her cheeks and began to bob her head, wanting to draw the most sinful sounds out of the tall man. Draco held onto (y/n) with his ringed fingers combing through her hair, keeping an almost possessive grasp on her. She worked carefully, pumping the parts she couldn’t reach just yet, having to force herself to calm down. It took her a few seconds to relax her throat, to take him deeper without panicking, but his sounds were worth the struggle, telling her how much he loved being touched by her.

She tried to focus on Draco, on the taste of him, on the feeling of him resting on her tongue, but her mind kept bringing up his words, reminding her that he was all too aware of her crush on him, a crush she had been fostering for years, ever since meeting him at Hogwarts. But even though she couldn’t help but be embarrassed, (y/n) also began to realize that he must share her feelings, otherwise he wouldn’t have pushed her to do this.

“I’ll never allow you to stop doing that, your mouth’s a sin in itself.” Draco’s raspy words left her chuckling, urging her on to move even faster, set on pushing him over the edge. His hips jerked, forcing his cock deeper down her throat to leave (y/n) choking on her gasps. “Such a desperate slut, you’d rather choke than stop sucking my cock, wouldn’t you?”

The hum leaving (y/n) drew a gritty laugh out of Draco, his head rolled back, exposing his throat to (y/n)’s wandering gaze. She could tell that he was close, twitching in her mouth as he tried to hold back, tried to stop himself from cumming right there and then. Her grip on his cock grew tighter, adding more speed to her movements as he once again forced himself down her throat.

“I want you to swallow every drop, show me how greedy you are for me.” Their eyes met as he spoke the words, seconds before he came down her throat. (Y/n) watched him cum undone, feeling him paint her mouth white with his cum. She swallowed, only pulled away as he loosened his grip on her hair, waiting for (y/n) to expose her now clean tongue to his eyes.

“The next time you lose a bet, I’ll fuck you, that much I can promise, sweetheart.”

#Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x reader #Harry Potter smut

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bug-is-snug · 3 months

Text

starved pt. 2

part one

plot: you're a zombie <3 CW: depictions of violence, depictions of obsession, gore, self-cannibalism (stay safe cutiepies!), blood, gore, eventual smut (That means Minors DO NOT INTERACT), self harm (I think? I'm not sure but I'm adding it to be safe!), military inaccuracies, dead dove do not eat kinds of stuff

A/N: let me know if I missed anything with the content warnings! Also please forgive me for the terrible accents, I am but a small humble person with the brain made of v8 juice- Also some of this was written on mobile so forgive me if there are any grammar errors ^^; banner by: @frostthecupcake (deactivated) and found by using "Find A Banner"

You felt your face grow warm as your mind went back to the sight of your Captain's wrist. Well- mainly his veins...God, he had lovely veins... You imagined grabbing his arm and sinking your teeth in, tearing away at his skin and tendons with gnashing teeth...while you daydreamt you couldn't help but wonder; How sweet would his flesh taste? Shaking your head profusely, you let out a huff and continued to head off towards the barracks while ignoring the emptiness in your stomach. God, you could feel the blood running down your throat, warming you far better than any hard alcohol... "Stop it." You hissed quietly to yourself, as if you had any control over the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind, "Don't think at all, just shut up!"

Taking a moment, you lean up against the wall and desperately try to gather your thoughts. Your stomach growled almost angrily, making you let out a frustrated groan. "Hungry?" A familiar voice cooed playfully, their Scottish accent giving away their identity instantly. You look up to see Soap, your heart instantly beginning to race. Your eyes scanned over his body while your nose took in his scent, which allowed you to recognize that he had just gotten back from the shooting range, the smell of his musk and the gunpowder making your head swim. "Uh-" Christ, you sounded dumb, "Maybe? I dunno, I kinda skipped lunch today...though I do hear that your body can make you hungry when you're exhausted so- uh- maybe it's that?" ...WHAT? Where did that even come from?! What kind of stupid excuse is that?! Soap raised a brow, staring at you for a moment and giving away that he was also just as bewildered as you were over the shit you just said. "...I am going over here now." You quickly walked around him, attempting to make it to your room. "Hold on now, that dinnae make a lick o' sense. What's goin' on wi' ye?" A strong, calloused hand grasped at your forearm making your heart jump to your throat, "Ye alright, lovie?" You shuddered slightly, digging your nails into your palms as thoughts of tearing your precious teammate’s ribs apart and sinking your teeth into his heart while it still beats made you feel dizzy and your stomach ache. What would it taste like? Sweet? Savory? How much would you be able to devour before someone else stumbles upon the sight? You quickly interrupted your own thoughts as you blurted out, "I think I'm sick is all." Soap hummed and reached over, pressing his hand against your forehead. "Ye dinnae feel sick, ye feel cold to be honest, lovie..." He muttered. "Sarge-" You were cut off by his hands feeling up the scruff of your neck and under your jaw. "Sorry, mate. My mum used to do this to check if me or my siblings were sick..." His voice was low, as if he trying not to spook an injured animal. "Sarge, I'm fine, honest-!" You tried to reason with him. You knew he was telling you the truth, but you also knew how he was. To clarify, while the relationship between you and Soap was rather handsy it was usually a welcome action and when it wasn't, you would tell him and he would back off. The touches the two of you would share sometimes bordered on inappropriate, but it often didn't go much further than that. It was a very intimate relationship, one that could be missed if someone didn't have a trained eye. However, it wasn't quite romantic...just intimate and sometimes intense-

Looking into his eyes, you could tell that while he was indeed just checking up on you, there was a small sense of enjoyment at the fact you were letting him casually paw at your sensitive skin. You let out a soft hiss in pain when he pressed down on a particularly tender spot, "Johnny, too hard..." "Sorry, lovie..." Soap said quietly, letting go after a moment. "It's okay..." You assured him, "What's the prognosis, Doctor MacTavish?" He chuckled at your teasing and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yer feelin' a bit stiff is all. Probably from yer god-awful posture." "Then I am going to do what I was planning to do and go take a nap. I should probably tell Gaz...I was gonna eat lunch with him today..." You said, disappointment heavy in your voice. "I can tell 'im fer you, lovie. Dinnae ye worry yer little head ‘bout it." Soap smiled, reaching over and giving you an affectionate pat on the shoulder. A sigh left your lips as you gave him a relieved smile, "You'd really do that for me? Thank you, Johnny..." He smiled back, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder. "Yer welcome..." You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow which made him chuckle and give you a wink before he walked around you, leaving you on your own as you finally made it to your room. You remembered the last time you retreated to your room when feeling unwell while you stared at your bed, closing your door behind you. It was a few days after the attack... Your body felt like it was on fire, especially where that damn doctor had bitten you. Your heart raced and your arm felt like your veins had poison coursing through them. You had refused to let anyone know, nor let anyone take care of you going as far as to barricade the door. Stupid? Yes, but what were you supposed to do? Let the teammates whom you trust your life with every single day know you're unwell? Ask them for help because they're your found family and you would drop everything to take care of them if they were in this state because you love and cherish them as people? Cringe- You groaned in pain, curling up in your little bed while digging your nails into the fabric, tearing them effortlessly much to your surprise. "What the fuck?" You huffed out, grimacing as you stare at the ruined sheets, "I just bought those..." Was that what you should have been worried about? Absolutely not, but you have to cope somehow. The pain was unbearable, but the worst of it was the fever and the fever dreams that came along with them. Well, you called them fever dreams; they actually appeared in your mind when you were awake. And most of them were really just...urges... Visions of ripping people apart filled your mind. It felt so real...you could feel your fingers digging into some faceless person's skin, tearing apart their flesh and ripping apart their ribs while they screamed and thrashed. The more skeptical part of your mind shoved it off as just an edgy little thought that you had as a courtesy of watching so many horror movies with Gaz, just a silly little spout of aggression. No, it was the thought of eating the person that got you to worry. It was the thought of burying your face into their warm body and sinking your teeth into their heart that scared you. The worst part of it was the fact that your stomach growled every time you imagined chewing and swallowing, like a forbidden fruit... Blood spilling down your chin like you had just bit into an apple after days of neglecting your hunger became a feeling you craved desperately. "Please just be a really fucked up version of the flu..." You whispered, "I swear to everything that is good and holy if it's not-" You were interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in your stomach, making you cry out. Burying your face into your pillow, you let out a quiet sob while you clung to it. Somehow, you felt embarrassed about how much pain you felt. You've taken bullets for fuck's sake! You have broken bones, dislocated joints-! And a little stomachache is making you cry?!

"What the fuck...?" You muttered, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Upon seeing the literal puddle of it in your hand you cringed, “Mm…that’s nasty…”

Sitting up, you use the headboard of your bed to keep you steady while your head pounds and begs you to lay back down. You huff, leaning your head against your arm for a moment. This fucking sucks. There is no denying it!

Your nose is pressed against your flesh, and you catch a whiff of yourself…Oh my…

Your stomach beckons you, and in that moment, you don’t even care. How can you? You’re starving!

So…

Without a second thought…

You sink your teeth into your wrist with a sickening squelch, tearing through veins and muscle. And, God, if it didn’t taste lovely…

Back To Current Day…

You sit down on your bed, running your fingers over the stitching you had done over the once torn sheets. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough!

With a sigh, you lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling as you reach over and gently touch your forearm, your fingertips sliding across the edge of the bandage. You didn’t really want to check if the wound was still there…but you didn’t want it to get infected either.

Your eyes glance down as you kicked off your shoes, scooting into your bed while your hand slowly peeled the bandaid off. You expected infection…a festering, pulsing and pus filled one…however, there was nothing. Your wrist was completely healed, like nothing happened-! How…?

You shake your head as hard as you can, as if it would shake the thoughts away. You ball the bandaid up and go to the trashcan, tossing it before going to your sink and rinsing your hands off. This isn’t so bad, right? It’s- er- not ideal, but it’s something! Maybe you should keep a journal of your changes- No. Too risky. If anyone found it…

Your eyes closed as you lean against the counter, inhaling through your nose while your leg bounce uncomfortably, “I can’t see a doctor…I really should but-! …What if I hurt someone…?”

You found yourself doing that a lot; whispering to yourself, fighting yourself…etc…

But that’s neither here nor there, it’s time to eat.

You started to head to your mini fridge, kneeling down before it and opening it up to take a package of raw meat out. You tear it open with your finger, feeling yourself begin to shake…

Shoveling raw meat into your mouth was not a good feeling. Did it scratch that lizard part of your brain? Yes. But social norms taught you to be disgusted with such bad manners-! However…as you sunk your teeth into the raw chicken breast, you ripped and tore away at it, feeling yourself grow more and more ravenous as it you continued. It tasted pretty okay for the most part, which is what surprised you the most.

Tasted like chicken, obviously, but the raw flavor added to it somehow? It was so hard to describe! But…then those thoughts came…

You were imaging the meat belonging to Soap, your beloved teammate. You felt so dirty and perverted…

‘This isn’t normal,’ You reminded yourself, ‘This is NOT. NORMAL!’

You didn’t even realize someone else had entered your room until they cleared their throat, making you snap your attention to whomever it was.

Oh shit.

#bug sure is snug in this rug #141 x reader #task force 141 #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #poly 141 #john soap mctavish x reader #zombie au #zombie reader #john price #141 au #cod 141

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konigsblog · 7 months

Text

double penetration

gaz x fem!reader x soap ...

kinktober masterlist. [DAY 18]

[WARNINGS]· double penetration, humilation, degrading, praising, rough sex, female anatomy.

Both Kyle and Johnny had been waiting for the correct moment, where they would ask you for a threesome. Honestly, they expected to be turned down, but were pleasantly surprised when you complied and agreed. Sneaking off with them into your barracks.

”Remember yer' safe word?” Johnny mumbles into your ear, holding your thigh up and running his shaft along your glistening folds. You nodded, biting your lip and eyeing up Kyle, who was undressing slowly, giving you a show before sliding into bed.

You were on your side, with Johnny being the big spoon and you being the small. Gaz laid beside you, watching as Johnny eased his thick cock inside, sliding his own lengthy, stiff dick deeper into your walls. You gasped, gripping Gaz's shoulders as he pushed his hips up against yours, pressed between two burly men.

Gaz held your jaw, tilting your head up to make out with you sloppily. “Aye, that's it... Make out wi' him while i fuck this cock into ye'...” Johnny grumbled under his breath, fighting for more room inside your wet pussy, both men bottoming out at once. The stretch was painful but had you moaning into Kyle's mouth, sucking on his tongue while they began thrusting into you.

You moaned out, tilting your head back, Johnny's lips attaching onto your neck to suck a big bruise onto your neck. You cried out, a few tears sliding down your cheeks when they both began rutting deep into your cunt. Your poor, poor hole being used and abused by two long dicks. “God– you're always so tight, dove...” Kyle moaned into your neck, sucking hickeys onto your collarbone while Johnny layered them on your neck.

Soap grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back as he slammed into you. His full and heavy balls smacked against your ass, bound to be bruised from his tight grip and rough pace. Gaz had no shame in playing with your hardened nipples, swirling his thumb around your now sensitive nubs, bullying his dick into you. His balls smacked against your cunt with each thrust, causing more ache to the throb between your thighs.

You had tears running down your pretty cheeks, moaning and gasping while making eye contact with Soap. He chuckled, a playful grin on his stupid face. You could feel Gaz lick a stripe up your ear, before moving down to your nipples, sucking in them and pounding into you ruthlessly. “Wai–..fuck–Kyle..!” you moaned, arching your back when his wet tongue dragged over your raw nipples.

Johnny's thumb rubbed your clit in soothing circles, gripping your jaw and making out with you while driving his hard, fat cock in and out of you, their paces increasing and the desire to orgasm became more strong. You whimpered, twitching and trembling, almost fucked stupid before they where counting down, forcing you to come with them. “Shit–fuck, cum down, lovie!”

Kyle and Johnny spurted thick amounts of seed into your arousal, feeling your cunt cream around both of them, your eyes wet and sticky from crying and your cunny dripping in their load. You moaned, eyes shut gently as they slowly removed their cock out, both of them rubbing your pussy to soothe the pain.

“Such a good lassie, ain't'cha? Did so well f'me and him..” “That's right, always so good for us, huh? You just love getting fucked nicely by us both, yeah, dove?” they chuckled at your expression, cleaning you up before sliding back into bed with you, Kyle's lean arms around your waist and Johnny's head buried in the crook of your neck.

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saintship · 9 months

Note

Could I request a fic for konig (and/or anyone in the 141) (whoever you think fits the best).

One where the reader has an eating disorder that she's been hiding for a while and the team is starting to notice.

Eventually they confront her and she tries to defend herself but only makes it worse. Saying stuff like she knows her limits now and explaining how it doesn't really hurt that bad to purge since she figured it out.

Like she's trying to comfort them but is only making it so much worse. I need my angst + comfort

I decided on Ghost because there’s a lot of König’s big ass on my blog

WARNING: potentially triggering content for people suffering from restrictive/bulimic eating disorders

This hits close to home, and v accurate to how a confrontation like this can go, I hope you’re alright ml

You’re not fine - Simon Riley x Reader, 141 & Reader

You had a love-hate relationship with little celebrations like these; you liked talking with everyone, and you also liked that it was held at the base, so you didn’t have to worry yourself watching your back. But with celebrations, there will be alcohol, and then food, and then inebriated recruits spewing whatever comes to their mind. One in particular you were sat near was especially vocal, swinging his glass in arcs as he grumbled on and on. Many of his words were nonsense, their only repercussion being the drunk giggles of his friends.

You sat up a bit straighter when he leaned closer.

“Oi, I hate these, you want it?” He murmured, gesturing to the cherry adorning his drink. You looked away a bit, shaking your head.

“Why? You was eatin’ them before..”

“I had enough.”

He only grinned. “What, you think a cherry will make you fat or something?”

Your silence only amused him more.

“Aw, you starve yourself, lovie?” He laughed loud and bright, like what he’d suggested was the most amusing thing he’d ever thought of. His friends didn’t miss it either, now cooing comments and non-questions in your direction that made your head spin.

It wasn’t until you pushed yourself to your feet and made a break for the door that you clocked the eyes behind Simon’s mask, following you carefully. The embarrassment flashed through your mind, but you continued, leaning against the outside wall where people came to smoke or grope each other in the lamplight. You felt the cherry on your tongue, your stomach beginning to flip before you gathered yourself. You were in control. A sharp pain sliced through your gut. You’d been able to walk the line of hiding your self torture until now; if someone walked up to you, there was no way you’d play it off. You were in control. Everything is under..control.

You thought about going back inside, just eating the stupid cherry and getting rid of it in the common room bathroom. But you were tired, and the only 141 member inside seemed to have a habit of burning holes in your back, so what was the point? Going back to your barracks seemed best. Walking by the front entrance again, Ghost pushed open the door simultaneously.

“Oi.”

You stopped and turned; Ghost rarely incited conversation. He approached you, scanning around the grounds as he walked. He seemed to be searching for the right words, a quiet grunt escaping him before he spoke.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re acting..” he gestured with his hand vaguely, his eyes glowering with suspicion.

“Acting what?”

He dropped his hand. “Off.”

When you didn’t reply, he sighed. “Look, I’m not good with this shit, yeah? If something’s wrong, I’ll only catch it once. So what is it?”

Your heart ached. You wished so badly there was a way to brush him off and reinforce his compassion at the same time. But there wasn’t.

“I’m okay, really.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sergeant.”

His reply made you blink, but your head still shook for the negative. “I’m fine.”

“You-"

“Goodnight, Ghost.”

Your tone only registered in your mind when you’d walked ten paces away from him. Simon Riley had just mustered up the courage to show a bit of concern, and you’d fucked it up. It would take a miracle for him to show vulnerability like that again. Your exhaustion urged hot tears to run down your cheeks, your skin heating up with shame and embarrassment. You didn’t get a wink of sleep.

The next morning it was pouring rain, and your walk to the med bay left you completely soaked by the time you opened the door to your office. The cold and discomfort of wet clothes were dull in your mind; all that played in your head was the encounter from the night before. The unit was empty other than resident patients, the rest of the staff likely at the mess hall. By noon, you were dry and warm, but every knock at your door made you jump. Just as you tried to convince yourself that you were being paranoid, your pager buzzed. Price’s voice rang clear.

“My office. Now, unless someone’s dying.”

Another day, you would have huffed a small laugh at his bluntness, but now, your anticipation weighed heavy on your chest.

Jogging through the rain again to the main building, scenario after scenario ran through your mind. Ghost outranked you, and you’d brushed him off without a glance behind you. You’d never had a charge of insubordination, ever. You admired and cared for your superiors in a way you hadn’t expected, and with that, there was never a time mouthing off even crossed your mind.

You lowered the hood of your rain jacket carefully as you eased Price’s door open, seeing it was already ajar.

Your heart sank through the floor when you saw Price’s expression, and then further some when you looked around the room. Soap, Gaz.. and Ghost.

“Is this an intervention?”

Your joke was met with a downcast silence, as Price rose from his desk chair. “Sit.”

He walked past you to shut the door gently, leaning on its surface. You obeyed his request, settling into a chair near his desk.

“Sergeant..you know that you’re cared for here, right?”

You blinked, glancing at Gaz and Soap. The two of them were so rarely serious that their concerned expressions were distracting.

“Uh..yes. Yes, sir.” You murmured.

“Since we care for you, we notice when you’re not all there. Isn’t that right?” The squad nodded, and you wished for a sinkhole to pull you into the center of the earth.

“Ghost. Why don’t you explain why we’re here?”

You couldn’t look at him, but you felt his eyes.

“You ran off last night. And I know it wasn’t cause of that daft recruit.”

The wood panels of Price’s floor were faded with a worn path of heavy boots. Gaz stepped a bit closer.

“We just don’t want you to be doing anything that’ll hurt you, love.”

You didn’t look up.

“Why would you think that?”

The sound of shifting weight was all that answered at first. Soap’s gentle voice filled the small space.

“You’re not eating, lass.”

Your eyes finally found their way upward out of surprise. “That’s what this is about?” You look around; no one’s expression had shifted. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve skipped every weigh in the last three months.” Price folded his arms.

“I’m a medic, I was busy! I think I would know if I had a problem.”

“So why do you drink your calories? Why do you work through mealtimes?” Ghost’s tone became a bit firmer.

“We’re just a tad worried-"

“There is nothing to worry about!” You interrupted Soap, making Gaz back up a pace. “I know my limits, I know how to do it right. I don’t need a lot.”

Price’s head tilted. “Sergeant..”

“I know how to do it right.” You repeated, a trembling hang raking through your hair.

“Do what right?” Gaz’s question hung heavy in the air.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, I-I figured out how to..you know, purge. Correctly.”

“What?” Price pushed off the door, standing closer.

“It’s fine!” Tears pricked at your eyes.

“No, it’s not.” Gaz’s voice was low with emotion, his eyes following you as you got to your feet.

“I’m fucking fine!”

“Sergeant, lower your voice.” Price’s order silenced you, a tear escaping down your face.

“It’s—I have it under control..” your voice wavered.

Soap sighed. “That’s not how it works-"

You wiped your tears angrily, irritating the skin that was already warm with embarrassment.

“What do I have to do to convince you that I am fi-"

Ghost’s arms were around you. The rest of the room was silent. Your eyes were closed. You cried into his vest. He smelled like smoke.

“You’re not fine.” His voice was softer than you’d ever heard it.

“I’m sorry..I’m sorry..”

“Oh, love..” Gaz hand was warm on you shoulder.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Soap assured. Ghost’s gloved palm stroked your back.

A different hand laid on your other shoulder, and you turned you head to see Price lean to your level.

“You’re not alone, soldier.”

That night, the entire team accompanied you to dinner. They made sure to tell you that even if you couldn’t stomach anything, just being there made them proud. Proud that you could face this disease that would follow your every step, and that you trusted them to walk alongside you. Ghost excused himself for a smoke, and you followed him out where he stood in the night air. The cicadas were chittering incessantly, but the breeze was nice. You stood by his side for a few moments before speaking.

“You called the meeting.”

He held his balaclava away from his face slightly with a thumb, exhaling a breath of smoke.

“I did.”

Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Thought you’d be angry with me for brushing you off like that.”

His head shook slowly. “No.” He breathed a sigh of the fresh air. “You’re not the snippy type. Something was off. So I went to the people who deal with that sort of thing better than I can.”

You eyed him. “Why do you always end with that?”

He glanced back, but continued to toe at the gravel.

“What do you mean?”

“You say you’re not good with this sort of thing. But you are.”

His brow furrowed. “M’not.”

“When I walked away from you, you could have just decided I was a dick and moved on, but you didn’t.”

His head shook again. “I had to get backup.”

“You knew who to put in that room.”

“Because I couldn’t do it alone.”

“You hugged me.”

Your shoes turn toward him, the glow of the entrance light glancing off the woven fabric covering his face.

“When I was freaking out, you steadied me. It really helped..” your admission suddenly embarrassed you, and you looked at your feet the moment he brought his eyes forward.

“Doesn’t mean I’m good at this.”

“You’re good to me.”

He blinked. “Am I?”

“You’re good to the team. Good to your trainees.” Looking up into his eyes, the apprehension there was gut wrenching. “I’ll tell you every day if that’s what it takes for you to believe it..”

“Sergeant..”

“It’s true. You make me want to be better.”

Ghost shifted on his feet. “I just want you alive.”

You cracked your first smile in weeks. “You make me want to be that, too.”

He gazed at you a bit longer before outstretching an arm, pulling you into his chest while taking another drag with his other hand. Your smile stayed as you leaned into his coat, the warmth radiating from him making your heart swell. The gratitude you felt that Simon Riley was letting you be so close to him was exhilarating. He rubbed your back as he’d done in the office, but out here, where it was just you, Simon, and the cicadas, it was just better.

#cod requests #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #simon riley x gn reader #simon riley #ghost x gn reader #ghost x reader

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ivyjupiterwrites · 2 months

Text

I just had the funniest thought of what if there was a Con of sorts going on, and you were dressed up, saw Ghost and asked him for a picture cause you thought he looked cool/was a part of what was going on.

There's you, dressed up as your favourite character, cutely approaching and interrupting him talking with the rest of the 141. You look like a field mouse wandering over to a bunch of barn cats-- cautiously yet fearing for your life despite proceeding.

"Uh excuse me...Hi," you began, and they all ceased their chatter to turn and look at you. Now that the skull masked man was leering at you, he was a lot more intense than cool but you fought through your nerves, "You look really cool, do you mind if we get a picture together?"

Ghost has zero idea what is happening.

Looks over to the boys--which I feel like the sgts would be nodding their heads in different levels of enthusiasm even though they know he doesn't do photos and Price would just be smiling so wide.

"Sure...." his response takes a nerve wracking, awkward moment, but after looking at you thoughtfully he figured what could it hurt? You looked really adorable in your costume peering at him, and though this could be against his better judgement, you seemed very nonthreatening.

So thus one of them grabs your phone, and you scooch up beside him. Now that he's not having an internal debate over the whole picture thing, Ghost is noticing just how nervous you are. There's the the faintest tremble to your being, and you look like you're being held at gunpoint, not happy.

"C'mere." he shifts himself to narrow the distance between the two of you, going as far as to throw an arm around you for one. "I don't bite."

"Yeah you'd have to take yer mask off," Soap snorts at him from the sidelines, gaining your attention. "and we all know that's not happenin'." huh?

"Affirmative." he gruffly replied, the two of you now finishing up he sees you looking at him curiously. "Too handsome lovie, wouldn't wanna blind ya."

"Oh." the little 'o' that came to your face was well worth it, and exactly what he had been trying to get out of someone with his smart ass comment. He got even more handsome? Well then. "Well... Thanks."

"Cheers." Ghost nods to you, the rest bidding you farewell and you scurry off with bright red cheeks. It was the bravest, stupidest, most dopamine inducing scenario, and you're sure you'll never recover. "Wonder what that was about?"

It's now when the guys are laughing, I feel like not Price but the sgts at least would know about the Con going on and the mix up.

"That was probably top ten best things I've ever seen."

"Wonder what she thought you were dressed up as?" Gaz questioned with a raised brow, but

"Hell Rider probably, that's'ou people usualy think'e is." Soap laughed as Ghost shot him a displeased glare, he was himself goddamit.

"I think they liked you," Price's comment gained him Ghost' attention, head snapping around from shooting Soap looks.

"You think so?"

"You're really dumb Lt." not being able to get enough of the socially inept man, Soap and Roach were having a real good laugh over him. "You should've gotten their number!"

bonus:

"Oh shit." an hour or so later Roach is patting himself down, and finds your phone nestled away in his pocket. He had just slid it in there after taking the photos, with you being so anxious, the both of you had entirely forgotten about it.

"You weren't supposed to keep it!" the deadpan he does to this stupid comment by Soap.

"Looks like you're going to be able to get that number after all."

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lovisyandereblog · 3 months

Text

y’all I need to know if I’m being dramatic so lil vent!

So basically I have this very very close friend let’s call her Amy (considered her one of my best friend) of three years and it was recently her birthday. I said happy birthday and everything and all was well. Yesterday I was talking to a mutual friend Amy and I both had, let’s call her chloe. I just generally asked Chloe if she was doing anything exciting over the weekend and she said she was going to a party. So I was like oooh who’s party is it? And when she mentioned party I remembered it had been Amy’s birthday so I just asked if Chloe has wished her yet….

Then Chloe said it’s funny you say that cause it’s Amy’s party I’m going to 😭😭 I was like what????? Cause I had NO idea about this and keep in mind I’m one of Amy’s best friends, like we literally talk nearly everyday.

So I go and message Amy and say so you’re having your 18th birthday party (which is a big big event) without inviting me??? Like hello? I’m your best friend. And then she replies with I’m sorry i forgot I was just so busy with my own stuff which I completely understand but it genuinely hurt my feelings that she’d forget to invite me. And it doesn’t even make sense cause I literally wished her a happy birthday (also extra info, she didn’t say happy birthday to me when it was mine) so how could she just forget??

Then she was like gaslighting me and saying if you want to come you can ig and I was like no thank you babes

Idk if I’m being dramatic but it genuinely hurt my feelings when she just forgot to invite me, even after all our years of friendship.

#vent post #lovis stupid shit

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gimmeurtmi · 8 months

Note

i love the idea of a virgoracha birthday bash!!! so cuteee

ok so my wisdom tooth hurts so bad right now so i was wondering if i can req the prompt "no one hurts you and gets away with it" with seungmin? thank you!

thank you!! 🤗 i hope you aren’t in too much pain lovie and you enjoy this lil fluffy blurb ✨

seungmin walks in to find you in the fetal position, curled up into a ball as you groan loudly. your wisdom teeth have started to come out, the feeling quite literally like a searing pain through your gums. you’ve tried the few hacks you’ve seen online to numb the area, including finishing all the ice cream in the fridge and gurgling unpleasant tasting water.

the pain was so bad it had caused the front of your head to hurt too—and now, even with the blinds drawn back and the room in complete darkness you felt like your senses were in overload.

you heard the front door open and close before a ray of light followed a soft creak as seungmin entered the room.

“y/n?” he asked, concerned. you only ever draw yourself into darkness like this when you’re feeling awful—and when he left you this morning you looked fine.

you hum in response, the sound painful to even make, and seungmin quickly sits by your side.

he brings his hand to your shoulder, petting you lightly as he turns on the fairy lights around you to see you better.

“what’s wrong?” he demands. his brows frown tightly, his bottom lip poking out in what you can only describe to look like an angry puppy.

“stupid,” you begin, but before you can explain it’s your stupid and not at all wise teeth, you let out a pained groan.

“stupid? who’s stupid? i’ll punch them,” he jumps up in his seat momentarily.

“no one,” you roll your eyes, “it’s my teeth. they’re making my brain hurt.”

“oh,” he says, almost disappointed. he looks conflicted, as if he isn’t sure who he’s going to punch now.

he decides who deserves his wrath, evidently, as he climbs on top of you and digs his hands into your waist.

“what are you doing?” you let out.

“getting my revenge,” he explains, kissing your forehead multiple times. he then kissed down your temples and towards your cheek, the kiss much lighter around the swollen area.

“listen here you little shit,” he whispers against your cheek.

“hey!” you protest, kicking your feet to try and get out of his hold, “i didn’t do anything.”

“i was not talking to you,” he raises his head slightly, looking at you before pressing his lips back against your cheek, “i am threatening your teeth now. give me some privacy.”

“i.. i can’t? it’s my teeth?”

“then be quiet,” he rubs your stomach softly, “i’m busy.”

you roll your eyes before you acquiesce—allowing whatever this is to just happen.

“listen to me,” he mumbles against your cheek, his face pressed right against it, “you better come out of there so fucking fast she doesn’t feel anything. got it? don’t make me come in there and break all your fingers for hurting her!”

“teeth don’t have fingers,” you remind him, “you look so dumb right now.”

“yah! don’t get involved,” he pouts at you, “no one hurts you and gets away with it. mr. tooth in there needs to be made aware of the consequences of his actions.”

you laugh loudly, wrapping your hands around seungmin’s broad shoulders.

“why are you so fucking weird?” seungmin then attaches his lips to your neck and blows against the skin, the noise and feel of it causing you to giggle as he blows multiple raspberries against your skin.

it’s then you notice all the laughing and his odd behaviour has been enough of a distraction to ease the pain lightly and your eyes don’t sting as much anymore.

“i love you.”

“now who looks dumb?” he grins at you before attaching himself right beneath your collarbone and blowing another raspberry. “love you too, i guess.”

you roll your eyes softly.

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a66-1 · 24 days

Text

i like the way you kiss me

Simon x reader

TW: Cursing.

a/n: little late night dabble bc I've been reading a lot and I want to write

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. please I'm bored, it won't hurt to request..

NOT PROOFREAD

A stressful day at work is honestly the last thing you need this week.

Not only have you been absolutely drowning in fucking work, your parents have to pull out favorites right in the middle of holiday season, and suddenly you've been ghosted for a month. And, oh, of course there's an and, nobody is in town for you to go unwind with.

You groaned into your hands, the bus stopping to let a few people out for the night. You just want to be back in your flat with your stuffed animals, and not on the rickety bus from your fucking nine to five job that barely pays enough as is, and you can barely keep yourself afloat when your stupid manager puts all the work on you. You pull at your cheeks, before leaning your head against the window, huffing onto the glass, causing it to fog up slightly as your eyes chase the raindrops that slide down the clear material.

You check your phone to find a few random text messages, and then one from..

Simon?

Woah, woah wait, you haven't seen that name pop up since-

"Missus? Last stop of night. Get." The driver gets your attention. You softly sigh, and grab you bag, and get off the bus. Fuck.

You missed your stop being in your head again.

You took a sharp left, as you walked down the dark streets, following the little map in your head so you can finally get home. You reach for your hood, and then remembered..

Fuck, your sweatshirt is at work. Goddammit.

You headed up the stairs to your flat, cursing yourself out for not thinking clearly again

You carded through your bag for your keys, standing at the door to your flat. You swore you saw your keys in here, shit, what if you left them at work. You softly fist your hand and hit it against your door. You try the handle and..

It.. Opened?

You stalk quietly into your house, as you put your things down. You walked to your living area, and found a very much relaxed Simon on your couch. You stare, shocked, before stammering.

"Simon? What- You-" You gesture wild with your hands. He snickered, and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Hey, love. 's been a minute." He stood in front of you, and smiled. You slap his chest softly, checking subconsciously to see if he was real. You haven't seen him since he left, almost 2 years ago, right out of highschool to college. He was.. Built, tattoos adorning his arms. He was not the Simon you knew, but his eyes...

The way he looked down at you.. Made your heart flutter.

"Si, I.. I fucking missed you, you don't.." You fail for words. You need somebody, anybody, especially right now.

He was obviously the best and most hoped for, though. Your hands cupped his cheeks and pulled him down into a soft kiss, your lips crashing against his. His hands slid onto your hips, pulling them against his.

He pulled back, and kissed your forhead, wiping the stray tear that lingered in your cheek.

"I like the way you kiss me, lovie."

requests are open!

Goodnight babes...

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon fluff #simon riley

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faeridollz · 5 days

Note

Virgin reader and older price 🤭🤭

(Not creepily older tho)

Feel free to ignore tho xx

“Such a pretty face <3”

Pairing; older!price x virgin!reader

Cw; price is in late thirties reader is in mid/late twenties ^^

Synopsis; your boyfriend is more than happy to help! But surprise!!! You’re a.. virgin? :(

A/n; kinda long so there’s a divider where nfsw starts!! Also dividers from @rookthornesartistry and @cafekitsune 💋

ˏ ˋ°•*⁀➷ TINDER WAS CERTAINLY NOT A GOOD PLACE TO FIND “LOVE.”

You knew that. But at a party with your friends, you were forced to make an account. “Oh cmon Y/N, you're still single after all this time? You know, Mya found her husband a Tinder, you should download it! You never know, you could find a real hit!” She babbled, and when two more of your friends joined in, you were pure pressured into getting that stupid fucking app.

But.. should you really be that mad? You gained a boyfriend who’s a total dilf minus the kid. It’s pretty nice actually, treated like a princess 24/7 and loved on. You love that he’s older too, he teaches you things.

So when he offers to watch movies with you, who are you to deny? Time with your lovely boyfriend is all you need. Sitting next to him with his hand gently gripping and rubbing your inner thigh. It’s been driving you crazy since this dumb movie started.

“You alright lovie?” He smirks, and you nod. “Yeah.. j-just a bit hot y’know?” Your breathing is heavy, you can’t really focus on the movie. “I understand Lovie.” Grinning, he trailed his thick fingers to your clothed cunt. skirt lifted, providing easy access.

“Wait- price..” you squirm, thighs slamming closed. “What’s wrong?” He freezes. “Price. I’m a virgin..” you’re almost ashamed. You’ve never told him before and you’re saying it now? Ugh, this is so fucking embarrassing. Tearing up a bit

“Hey hey, don’t cry lovie, it’s nothin’ to be ashamed about sweetheart.” He cups your cheek, making you look in his beautiful blue eyes. They make you feel so safe, y’know? Just so calm. And god he’s so soft, husband material but stern when he needs to be. “It’s okay sweetheart, really.”

“Really? You’re not mad or anything?” Your head tilts. “Why would I be mad? That’s absurd lovie.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. Beard tickling your soft skin. “I dunno, It’s just kinda embarrassing.” You watch as his face falls. “It’s not embarrassing. I was a virgin too once, just like everyone else in the world. So please stop saying it’s embarrassing sweetheart. Because I swear, it’s not.”

He always seems to have a way with his words. It amazes you sometimes. “Tell me you understand sweetheart.” He nods, and you do too. “I understand love. And. I know you said it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but.. Can you uh.. touch me?” You aren’t too shocked when his eyes widen, followed by ‘Are you sure?’ Fuck this is embarrassing.

His finger is thick, it’s expected but you never knew it could feel this good. “Feels good love?” You nod, he wanted to keep watching the movie, but he made sure to keep paying attention to you. Of course, he did. But how the hell did he expect you to pay attention to this movie? What was happening again? Shit.. it’s one finger but it feels so damn good. Curling up on your G-spot, the rope tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap.

“Fuckkk..” you whine, grinding into his hand. Breath quickened when he rubbed on your puffy clit. “I asked a question sweetheart, wouldn’t an answer be nice?” You can almost hear that cocky smile if that was even possible. But it makes you tighten around him, drenching his fingers. “g-good it feels soo~ good” shuddering when he speeds up.

“Ya think another finger would fit?”

“Y-yes- please!” Who knew you could be so whiney? Not you. But price makes you feel so good. And if this is just his finger then what if-

You let out a pathetically loud moan, how the hell did you not notice him putting another one of his thick ass fingers in you? It feels so good though, you. “Bloody hell sweetheart. So fuckin wet right? Feel good?” He nods. Moving slow, then picking up the speed a bit. “M-mhm!” You whine, the rope in your stomach finally snapping and your vision blurring a bit. Coating his fingers in creamy cum. Your cum.

Your gooey walls tighten around his fingers, hand gripping at his arm. “N-Nghhh..” you moan, shuddering as he gently pulls his fingers out of your drenching hole. His fingers were coated in a thin layer of cum. You think you may be hallucinating when he licks his fingers clean. “And tastes fuckin’ magical sweetheart.” He grins, kissing your neck. Your cunt is cold, the wetness attracting the cool air.

“Price.. you’re hard as fuck..” you giggle, his dick making a menacing print in his pants. Was it possible to be that big? You’ve seen it before in the shower and stuff but it was soft then. He’s really a grower.

Safe to say you ended the night with him passionately fucking your puffy cunt. After you followed him to your shared bedroom of course. Whining in his ear as he whispered sweet praises into yours. The prep was good too. Tongue fucking you and rubbing your clit until you were technically brain dead. Giving you time and waiting for the green light to continue. And the aftercare was one of a kind, nothing you shouldn’t expect from a total sweetheart.

He’d set a nice warm bath for you and massage your skin, even if he didn’t fuck you rough at all he’d still take care of you!! :)

I got so carried away ughh!! 😭 but I really liked writing this 😆 reblogs and likes r appreciated!! Also if you too wanna submit an ask I would be more than happy to make you ask come true my love!

#faeridollz #cod x reader #faeridollz asks!!#cod smut #captain john price #price x reader #cod price #captain price #john price #captain johnathan price #faeridollzspeaks💗

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goldengalore · 1 year

Text

The Great War

Summary: Y/N wants to take a break from touring with Harry because the scrutiny from his fans has become too much to handle. During their time apart, Harry misses her deeply, but she seems happier without him. A cheating accusation leads to the biggest fight they’ve ever had.

Warnings: accusations of cheating, Y/N getting bullied, mention of slut-shaming, ANGST, smut (dom!harry, a little rough, choking)

Word count: 7.7k

A/N: This wasn’t originally based on The Great War by Taylor Swift, but while writing, I realized how well it fits the story so I started including elements from the song. Longest fic I’ve posted on here so far, enjoy! :)

***

Y/N has had enough.

She was so excited to go on tour with Harry. When her boss approved her request to work fully remotely for the next few months, she was over the moon because it meant that she could join him on the North American leg of his tour.

But some recent incidents with his fans have left a bad taste in her mouth, making her want to step away for a little while. Usually, she’s quite good at tuning out the nasty things that people say about her, but there is a big difference between someone talking shit about you on the internet versus in person. The latter is much more difficult to ignore.

Y/N had an absolute blast at the first few shows, singing and dancing wildly with Harry’s managers, Jeff and Tommy, in their little area by the pit. It was the fourth show of the tour when things began to go awry. A girl in the front row brought a sign that said, in thick black writing, “Blink twice if Jeff is forcing you to date Y/N # freeharry.”

The sign was huge; it was baffling that security had even allowed it into the venue. The people behind this girl were clearly irritated by the big piece of cardboard blocking their view, but she remained ignorant to the commotion she was causing. No, she was more focused on making sure the sign was visible not only to Harry but also Y/N.

Unfortunately for her, it was also visible to Harry’s managers, who were protective of Y/N like older brothers. Tommy instantly sent a security guard to confiscate the sign.

“What a stupid sign,” said Jeff. “Even if I could make Harry date anyone, it would obviously be Mitch.”

“Oh, obviously,” Y/N joked back.

Harry mentioned the sign to her later. He had noticed it, and the commotion it was creating in pit, during his performance of Daylight. He’d made a mental note to have security take it away once the song was over, but thankfully, Tommy got there first. Y/N told him it was fine, that she didn’t care. And at the time, she really didn’t. Why would she care about the opinion of some random teenage girl?

But at the next show, there was a group of girls at the back of pit who kept shooting her dirty looks, giggling amongst themselves, filming her while she was dancing, thinking they were being discreet. The most annoying part was that at the start of the show, one of them had walked up to Y/N to compliment her outfit, but it quickly became clear that the seemingly kind act was just part of their stupid game. It was like she’d been cast in a high school bullying PSA without her knowledge.

There were several more instances like that at the next few shows. It was getting to the point where Y/N could no longer tell who was being genuine and who wasn’t when they came up to chat with her. Any phones—or even mere glances—pointed in her direction made her feel deeply uncomfortable, like everything about her was being picked apart and scrutinized.

Tonight’s show is in Chicago. Y/N’s plan was to push through this one and wait until the morning to tell Harry that she needs a break from touring. But as she sits in his dressing room, watching him get ready, she can already feel her heart pounding and her stomach churning at the thought of being out there in the crowd tonight, and she realizes that she can’t do it. She just can’t.

When she tells Harry this, he looks at her with eyes full of concern.

“What’s wrong, lovie?”

“Nothing.” A conflicted sigh escapes her. “Let’s talk about it after the show. You need to get ready.”

“No, hey, tell me what’s wrong.” He walks over to the couch where she’s seated.

She really didn’t want to bring this up before the show. It’s just going to put a damper on his mood for the rest of the night. But knowing Harry, he’s not going to relent until she tells him what’s on her mind.

His stylist, Harry Lambert, is in the room with them, sifting through some clothes on the clothes rack.

“Lamby, do you mind if we have a minute alone?” asks Y/N.

“No, of course not. Just come get me when y’all are done.” Lambert leaves the room to give them some privacy.

Harry sits down next to Y/N, folding a leg under him and resting his arm on the back of the couch. She explains everything that’s happened at the shows lately and how it’s been getting to her. When she reveals that she wants to take a break, to get away from it all for a while, the light in his eyes seems to flicker out.

“You—you want to take a break?”

His expression is so despondent that she feels the need to clarify, “From tour, H. Not from our relationship.”

“No, I know. I just—” His gaze shifts to the floor by their feet. “Jesus. I didn’t know it was getting this bad. I mean, I saw the sign, but I thought that was it. I didn’t know people were being that cruel.” He shakes his head, looking at her now. “I should’ve known. I’m sorry. I should’ve noticed what was happening.”

“You couldn’t have. You’re on stage the whole time, focused on putting on a good show, as you should be.”

“No, but we’re in the same bloody room, Y/N. And this was happening in pit. How could I not notice that? Fuck.” He rubs his hands over his face in frustration. “Fuck.”

“It’s not your fault,” she emphasizes, but it’s evident that he doesn’t believe that.

He has always been quite hard on himself about the harassment that Y/N receives from both the media and a certain part of his fanbase. Despite her reassuring him on several occasions that she doesn’t blame him for any of it, it doesn’t always stick.

“I’m going to speak to Jeff about this,” he suddenly says with conviction. “If it’s getting this bad, we need to say something about it publicly. I need to say something.”

His words take her by surprise. It’s rare for him to address any kind of drama publicly. And while it’s sweet that he wants to defend her and set the record straight once and for all, she’s not so sure that it’s the right move.

“What are you even going to say?” she asks. “‘Stop being mean to my girlfriend’? Yeah, that’ll go down real well.” She doesn’t mean to be sarcastic, but she can’t help it. Recent events have made her a little resentful inside. Not at him, just at the situation.

“Well, I’m not going to say it like that. I’ll think of something.”

“Don’t. You don’t need to say anything.”

“Yes, I do.”

She grabs his hand. “Well, I’m asking you not to. Okay? It’s not going to make people stop. It’s just going to bring more attention to me, which is the last thing I need right now.”

He studies her face, then sighs. “Okay. Okay, I won’t. What else can I do?”

“Nothing.”

It’s obvious that this answer is difficult for him to accept.

“Seriously, H. I just need some time away from the shows and the crowds and the traveling. Just until I get my head straight. That’s it.”

He nods and lifts her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”

***

“Apparently, we’re broken up,” says Y/N, getting comfy in bed with her phone pressed against her ear.

She’s back in London now, in the home that she and Harry share.

“Again?” asks Harry on the other end of the line.

“Yeah! Found out from my mother, who called me in a panic this morning because of some article she read in the Daily Mail about how I haven’t been at your shows for the past two weeks and how that must mean we’ve broken up.”

He chuckles. “Oh, dear.”

“I’ve told her so many times not to believe a thing she reads on that stupid website. If she wants to know something about our relationship, literally all she has to do is ask us.”

“Hey, cut her some slack,” he says kindly. “She’s probably still adjusting to the madness.”

“We’ve been together for two years, H.”

“Well, it took my mum a lot longer than that after I started my career.”

He does have a point, she thinks to herself. Whenever she and her mom get into petty arguments, which happens annoyingly often, he somehow always gets her to see her mom’s side, immediately defusing the tension. That’s probably a big part of why her mom adores him so much.

“So, anyway,” she says, “how are things? How’s tour going?”

“It’s going well,” is all he says about it. “I miss you.”

She feels a twinge in her chest. “I know. I miss you too.”

“When do you think you’ll come back on tour?”

She sighs, rolling onto her back and staring up at the bedroom ceiling. “I don’t know. It’s only been a couple of weeks, and I feel like I’m just starting to get back into a good headspace... I need more time.”

“Okay.” His voice doesn’t give much away, but she knows he’s disappointed with her answer. “Two weeks.” He whistles. “Can you believe we’ve been apart for that long?”

She laughs. “What do you mean? We were apart for months at a time when you were touring last year, remember?”

“Sure, but now I know what it’s like having you on tour with me. Going to bed with you every night, seeing your pretty face every morning, watching you dance like a mad woman at my shows...”

She lets out another laugh.

“I’m spoiled now,” he says.

“So spoiled.”

There’s a brief pause where she can hear him shuffling around.

“Are you in bed right now?” he asks.

“Yup.”

“What are you wearing?”

She smirks, knowing exactly where this is going. They used to do this all the time when he was on tour last year—touch themselves while making flirty, filthy comments at each other over the phone, sometimes over video.

“One of your sweatshirts and—”

“Which one?” he interjects.

Looking down at her torso, she replies, “The blue Pleasing one with the frog on it.”

“Ooh, good choice. What else?”

“Just panties.”

“Hmm... That’s far too much clothing you’ve got on there.”

Her smirk grows wider. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm. Think you need to take some of it off... Or all of it.”

Giddy excitement takes over her. She sits up in bed. “If you say so! I’m putting you on speaker phone.”

Placing the phone next to her, she removes the sweatshirt, then her panties.

“Okay, clothes are off,” she tells him.

“Good girl. Now—”

His voice suddenly cuts off. She frowns, wondering if she’s lost him.

“Hello? H?”

“Sorry, I’m getting another call. Need to take this. Be back in a sec.”

She sits there and waits for him to return to the call. A couple minutes later, he’s back.

“Hey, my love, I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go.”

Her excitement deflates. “Aw, really?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I was supposed to meet with Rob tonight but just found out he can’t make it, so he wants to have our chat over the phone now instead. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she tells him, suppressing the slight frustration she felt at being interrupted right as the fun was starting. “Good luck with the call.”

“Thank you. I love you. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says in a haste.

“Love you.”

And with that, he hangs up. She flops back down on the bed, still naked after he made her undress. Looks like she’ll just have to make herself cum by imagining what else he was going to make her do on the phone, which isn’t nearly as fun as actually being on the phone with him... But oh well.

***

It’s a bright, sunny day out. The middle of October, so there’s a slight chill in the air but not quite cold yet, and some of the trees have shed their leaves while others still hang on to theirs.

Half of the North American tour is over. To celebrate and thank the crew for all their hard work so far, Harry decided they should have a crew barbecue on a day off between shows. He likes making sure that every single person involved with the tour feels appreciated. As the performer, he gets all the praise and attention from the fans, so it can be easy to feel invisible or undervalued if you’re someone who works more behind the scenes.

That is also why he makes an effort to walk around and chat with everyone at these barbecues, ask them about their lives and their families back home, make them the focus of attention for once.

During his conversation with the lighting technician, Laura, she brings up Y/N.

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask. Is Y/N coming back on tour?”

The question catches him off guard because he’s been trying hard not to think about Y/N’s absence.

“Um, yeah, probably,” he replies, though he’s not even sure if he believes that himself.

“When do you think she’ll be back?”

He stares down at the cup of lemonade in his hands. “I don’t know... At some point.”

“It’s awful, the things I see on the internet about her sometimes.” Laura tuts and shakes her head. “I feel so bad for her. She seems like a sweet girl.”

He nods. “She is.”

“I hope she knows none of us here believe any of that crap. I had a lot of nice conversations with her.”

When he speaks to a few other crew members, they ask him the same thing—if Y/N is ever coming back. He never realized how much of an impact she made on these people, even though she was only around for two weeks. It’s not surprising though. She has such a warm presence that after you meet her, everything else feels cold to the touch.

All of this talk about Y/N leaves him feeling a multitude of emotions. Love and longing, sadness and guilt.

After the barbecue is over, he steps away to give her a call. He wants to tell her all the nice things people said about her today in the hopes that she’ll realize how loved and accepted she is here. But she doesn’t pick up.

He sighs and decides to open up Instagram. Lately, he has been getting doses of her by looking through the photos and stories posted by her close friends. Y/N stopped posting much on her own Instagram soon after they got together and people started bombarding her page with vile comments. So, her friends are his best source of Y/N content.

Their recent stories reveal that she went out to a concert last night. This is the third one she’s been to in the past couple weeks. In one clip, she’s singing along and dancing with a girl he recognizes as her best friend Michelle. In the next one, there’s a guy dancing between them, his arms strewn around both women’s shoulders. Harry doesn’t know who he is, but he’s been in a lot of the posts lately. And Y/N is always somewhere near him.

As he scrolls through Michelle’s posts, he notices Y/N in the background of a photo taken at some party. She’s standing with that same guy, her head tilted back in laughter. Then there’s a video of the whole friend group saying goodbye to each other at the end of a night out, and Y/N is giving the guy a hug.

Harry experiences two separate pangs of jealousy at once. One is the result of seeing Y/N so carefree and comfortable at other people’s shows. He knows it’s selfish, but he just wishes she felt that comfortable at his shows as well.

The other is the result of seeing some other guy all over his girlfriend while he’s an entire ocean away from her.

His phone is turned off and placed back in his pocket. He finishes what’s left of his lemonade, suddenly wishing it was liquor instead.

He needs to get his mind off all this. The barbecue may be over, but he has the rest of the day to do whatever he wants. And while he would normally use this time for something productive—like working out, meditating, or writing music—he’s not in the mood for any of that today. No, he’s only in the mood to drown out his emotions.

***

Despite being back in London, Y/N has still been working remotely. It’s just far more convenient, and she doesn’t have much of a reason to be at the office in person. She can also work whenever she wants, as long as she gets her eight hours in.

On Fridays, she prefers to start work extra early so that she can finish early and get a head start on the weekend. Today, the clock barely hits 7 a.m. before she sits down in her home office and gets to work.

Just as she’s starting to get in the zone, her phone rings. It surprises her to see Harry pop up on the screen—saved as just “H💘” in her phone. His next show takes place in Toronto, which is likely where he is at the moment.

She picks up, already smiling. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi,” he says. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I’ve been up for a while. Just getting some work done.” She swivels from side to side in her office chair. “What are you doing up? Isn’t it, like, two in the morning over there?”

“Yeah...” He doesn’t say anything else.

“Is everything okay?” she asks slowly.

“Mhm. Everything’s fantastic,” he mumbles.

“Okay...” She hears a car horn in the background. “Where are you right now?”

“Dunno. Was at a bar earlier. Had some poutine. It sucked... The poutine, not the bar. The bar was cool.”

It’s only now that she realizes he’s slurring his words quite a bit. It’s been a while since she’s seen him get drunk, so it didn’t even cross her mind until now.

“Are you drunk?”

“Mmmm... Perhaps, a smidge.”

Definitely more than a smidge, she thinks to herself.

“Okay, something’s definitely up. You don’t drink like this on tour, nor do you stay up this late.”

He scoffs. “Who came up with that stupid rule?”

She laughs and quirks a brow. “Uh, you did? Because you want to be at your best when you’re on stage, which is hard to do when you're hungover and sleep-deprived?”

He’s silent. His uncharacteristic behaviour is starting to make her uneasy.

“What’s going on, H? Talk to me.”

It’s a long time before he finally says something.

“I miss you.” His voice is so soft and quiet when he says it that she almost doesn’t hear him.

Her chest constricts. “Oh, baby, I miss you too.”

“Do you though?”

She frowns. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”

“Well, lately, it doesn’t seem that way... Seems like I miss you more than you miss me.” He sounds sad, but there’s also a bitterness underlying his tone that Y/N isn’t used to hearing.

“That is not true. Why would you think that?”

“Because I see it, Y/N,” he says, his voice becoming more resolute. “I see it in the photos and—and the stories that your friends post when you go out with them to those parties and shows and all that. You seem so much happier without me.”

Each word he says seems to add to her confusion. “You can’t be serious right now. You’re upset that I’m spending time with my friends?”

She hears him sigh heavily. For the first time in their conversation, she feels irritated with him.

“That’s not what I’m upset about,” he grumbles.

“Then what—”

“You’re going out to all these shows, Y/N. I thought—I thought you said you needed time away from the crowds? Time to yourself? What happened to that?”

“I am taking time to myself.” She huffs, adding sarcastically, “Sue me for going to a show here and there to have some fun.”

“Who’s the guy?”

“Excuse me?”

“That bloke you’re always with in the background of these photos. He’s got his arm around you in one of them. He’s always touching you this way and that. Who is he?”

Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach at his words, at the implication and the accusatory tone behind them. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Have you been reading the Daily Mail like my mother?”

“This is not funny, Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. You sound like someone who’s been reading those tabloids, which is the last thing I would’ve expected from you.”

“I’m just explaining what I saw,” he says flatly. “If I’m wrong, just tell me I’m wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you!” She feels her anger rising. Her fingers fiercely clutch the arm of her chair as she sits up straighter. “I shouldn’t because you know what? For the past two years, I’ve put up with so many bullshit rumours about you being seen with some female friend of yours and people assuming that you’re fucking her behind my back, and I have never once suspected that you were cheating on me. Not once! Why? Because I trust you! And now, you see a harmless picture of me with a guy friend and you assume I’m cheating? When did you become so possessive and so—so fucking needy?”

“Don’t call me that,” he hisses.

“Well, that’s how you’re acting. Like a jealous, possessive, needy fucking boyfriend.”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m being—” She lets out a humorless laugh. Some part of her feels like he’s purposely trying to get under her skin, while another part of her thinks he’s just saying whatever comes to his intoxicated mind, and she doesn’t know which part is right. Her head is beginning to throb. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this. I’m calling Jeff to go get you.”

“I don’t need anyone to come get me. I’m not a fucking child.”

“No, but you need someone to knock some sense into you, and I can’t stand you right now, so I’m sending Jeff.”

“Y/N, don’t hang u—”

She hangs up on him and immediately locates Jeff’s number in her contacts.

“Y/N?” he answers after several rings, his voice groggy and thick with sleep.

“Jeff, hey. Sorry for waking you. Look, do you know where Harry is right now?”

“Um... Asleep in his room, probably. Why?”

“No, he’s not. He is drunkenly wandering the streets of Toronto right now by himself.”

There’s a pause as he processes what she just said. “What? Seriously?”

“Yeah, he just called me. We...” We had a fight, is what she wants to say, but she holds herself back. “You need to go get him.”

“Did he say where he is exactly?”

“No. He just mentioned having some bad poutine at a bar earlier.”

“Oh, I was with him when we had the poutine. It was really fucking bad... But that was hours ago. What’s he still doing out?”

“I don’t know.” The next few words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, “He accused me of cheating on him.”

“He what?” The incredulity in his voice makes her feel just a tiny bit better because it means that he knows she would never do something like that.

“Yeah. Can you believe it? After everything...” Her voice cracks as the lump that has been forming in her throat ever since her conversation with Harry finally bursts and makes her eyes brim with tears.

“Y/N,” Jeff begins, carefully choosing his words, “he hasn’t been doing so well lately. Mentally, I mean. He misses you—”

“That’s not a good excuse,” she argues.

“—And he’s really beating himself up over what you went through at the start of tour. He feels so guilty.”

“Well, I feel guilty too!” She sniffles and wipes at her tears angrily, annoyed that they won’t stop coming. “Guilty that I can’t be there to support him on tour like I promised I would. Like his previous girlfriends did. God, Jeff, I feel like such a shitty girlfriend.”

“His previous girlfriends weren’t getting anywhere near the amount of hate you’re getting. And no one blames you for not being on tour, Y/N. Especially not Harry. He’s just being an idiot right now.”

Although she knows that everything he’s saying is rational and true, her emotional turmoil keeps her from fully believing it.

“You should go get him,” she says, rubbing her temples. “And can you please text me when you find him? Just so I know he’s safe.”

“Of course.”

As soon as she gets off the phone with Jeff, a state of exhaustion overcomes her. It’s been less than two hours since she woke up, yet it feels like she’s gone through a whole day within the past fifteen minutes. Abandoning her workstation, she crawls back into bed, pulling the covers over her head as the endless flood of tears flows from her eyes.

***

Harry fucked up. Immensely. He knows it the moment he wakes up the morning after his fight with Y/N. He reaches for his phone to call her, to apologize, but something stops him.

Pride? Guilt? Fear? All of the above?

He ends up waiting a while before reaching out to her. A week goes by before he finally calls her, and as expected, she doesn’t pick up. He tries again and again for several days, texting her after each attempt, begging her to talk to him, to let him explain himself. But it’s no use.

She has iced him out.

The rest of tour feels like a blur. Being on stage still gives him an indescribable high, but that disappears as soon as he’s alone again.

Returning home to London after his last show is a relieving yet nerve-wracking experience because he doesn’t know what to expect from Y/N. They haven’t spoken in weeks. He has been using Michelle’s Instagram posts to keep up with her and to know that she’s okay.

Now, he takes a deep breath before entering the house with his luggage. Everything is completely silent. He wonders if she’s even home.

“Y/N!” he calls out. “I’m home!”

No response.

He sighs and makes his way upstairs. He finds her in her office, working at her desk with big noise-cancelling headphones on, her back to the door.

“Y/N?” he says from the doorway.

When she still doesn’t hear him, he walks up behind her and gently touches her shoulder. She jumps and yanks the headphones off her head.

“Oh my God. You scared the shit out of me.” She clutches her chest.

“Sorry, lovie. I was calling your name, but you didn’t hear me.”

She spins around in her chair and stands up. He expects her to walk out of the room or say something to indicate that she’s still upset with him, but all she does is slide her arms around his torso and press her cheek against his chest.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she says.

It takes him a moment to recover from the shock. Wrapping his arms around her, he replies, “Me too.”

They hug for a good minute. He starts thinking about the apology speech he had prepared.

When she pulls away, he says, “Maybe we should talk about—”

“There’s no need. It’s all forgotten.” She pushes up on her toes to kiss him, but he retreats slightly to study her expression.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Absolutely.” She gives him a reassuring smile that seems believable enough, so he lets her kiss him.

And instantly, he melts at the velvety feeling of her lips against his. One of the many things he’s missed about her during their time apart. As soon as she parts her lips, his tongue darts into her mouth. With his hand under her jaw, he tilts her head upward to taste her more fully. He wants to devour her.

Pulling away, he asks, “Bedroom?”

“Yes.”

He grabs her hand and leads her out of her office to their shared bedroom down the hall. Their clothes come off in record time, and they’re making out again, hands all over each other’s bare bodies.

“I want you,” Y/N says between passionate kisses.

She nudges him towards the bed until he sits down on the edge of it. Then she gets down on her knees between his legs, eyeing his erect cock like it’s an object of worship.

She takes him into her mouth inch-by-inch, wrapping her hand around anything that doesn’t fit. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes for a moment, engulfed by the pleasurable sensation of her tongue gliding against his cock.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good on me,” he breathes out.

Encouraged by his praise, she takes more of him into her mouth, allowing his tip to hit the back of her throat. Then she pulls her head back until only his tip rests on her tongue and takes him back in. She repeats this gesture while fondling his balls at the same time.

His hand slips into her hair. She starts deliberately slowing down at one point, teasing him by only keeping the head of his dick in her mouth, licking the tip over and over to drive him insane. His body reacts by bucking his hips to push more of himself into her. His hand keeps her head in place as he begins guiding his length in and out of her mouth all on his own.

His ragged breaths and moans are the only sound filling the room. He forces himself to stop before he can cum and removes his cock from her mouth. The way she gazes up at him, eagerly awaiting his next move, makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“I need to be inside you. Get up here.” He pats the bed beside him, and she climbs up. He kisses her, tasting himself on her mouth, then says, “Hands and knees for me, sweetheart.”

Compliantly, she turns around and gets on her hands and knees in the middle of the bed. He shifts to get behind her, admiring the view granted by this position. His fingers find their way between her legs and come away coated with her juices.

“Fuck. You’re soaking,” he remarks, inserting two fingers inside her hole. “Who’s got you so wet, hmm?”

“You.” She exhales with pleasure.

“Sorry, didn’t hear that.”

“You, you,” she repeats. “God, only you.”

He smirks and inserts a third finger, making her squirm and moan. She pushes her hips back to get as much of his fingers inside her as possible. He allows her to get off on his fingers for a bit, then retracts them without warning. A disappointed whine leaves her at the sudden emptiness filling her pussy.

But she doesn’t stay empty for long, as he aligns his tip with her entrance and begins filling her up little by little, giving her pussy a chance to adjust to him. It’s been so long since he’s felt her tight walls squeeze his cock like this. Too long.

He pulls out of her, then thrusts himself back in with more force, releasing a grunt. Y/N gasps and collapses onto her forearms. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanks her head back, causing her back to arch and allowing him the perfect angle to drive his length deep into her.

“Harry,” she moans his name, and he swears he can cum right then and there but he restrains himself.

He tugs on her hair a bit more, then shifts his hand to wrap around the front of her neck, pulling her back against his torso.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispers in her ear. “God, I missed having you like this.”

Her pussy clenches around him. He continues fucking her hard while squeezing the sides of her neck. Her mouth is agape, her pants and moans and whimpers mixing together beautifully.

“Can I cum?” she asks breathlessly.

“Maybe,” he teases. “If you ask nicely.”

“Please, can I cum? Please?”

“Of course you can, sweet girl. Cum for me.” He presses his lips against her temple as she unravels in his hold. Her body convulses against his. “That’s it, baby.”

His orgasm follows right after hers. He finishes deep inside her warm, wet pussy, which milks every last bit of cum from his cock. Once he lets go of her neck, she sinks onto her stomach on the mattress.

He lays on top of her as they both recover from their highs, peppering kisses along her neck and the backs of her shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispers.

She just smiles and turns her head a bit more to catch his mouth in a kiss. The lack of a verbal response from her doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He rolls off of her after a few minutes. She immediately sits up.

“Are you hungry? I can make us something,” she offers.

“Uh, sure, but—”

“Okay, great, I’m hungry too. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.” She leans down and pecks him on the cheek, then hesitates briefly before saying, “Love you.”

Grabbing her clothes, she disappears into the bathroom before he can even register what just happened.

He was hoping they would spend some time cuddling, which is usually what they do after sex, but Y/N seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the room. Not to mention how long it took her to return his “I love you.” If all really is forgotten as she claims, then why is she acting so strange?

He expects her confusing behaviour to continue after he takes a shower and goes downstairs to eat with her, but by then, she seems to be acting like herself again, telling stories and joking around with him.

Maybe everything really is fine and he’s just being paranoid. That’s got to be it.

***

Y/N tried to act like everything was fine after Harry got home from tour. But you can only repress your emotions for so long before they start expressing themselves in other, unexpected ways...

A few days after Harry’s return, he and Y/N attend an engagement party hosted by their friends, Mary and Laila, who got engaged last week.

Harry is attached to Y/N’s side for most of the night, only stepping away to go use the washroom. He’s gone for quite some time, during which Y/N mingles with other people at the party. When he eventually comes back fifteen minutes later, he places his arm around her waist and a kiss to her temple.

“That was a long bathroom break,” she remarks, looking up at him.

“Yeah, I ran into Ava on the way back and we were catching up.”

Ava is an ex-girlfriend whom he’s still good friends with. Y/N notices a red, oval-shaped mark on his left cheek right next to his lips.

“Is that lipstick on your face?”

He reaches up to touch his cheek and laughs. “Oh, yeah, she just kissed me as a joke.”

“I hope that’s all it was.”

Y/N already knows that’s all it was. She’s known Ava for a while and is well-aware that their friendship is entirely platonic. In fact, her comment has nothing to do with Ava. It’s just the result of her petty need to get back at him for what he accused her of weeks ago.

She watches as his smile fades.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” she says. “When the roles are reversed?”

“I knew it. You’re still upset with me.”

She turns away but still feels his eyes on her. Before he can say more, one of their friends comes up to Y/N and starts talking to her, preventing their conversation from going any further.

Silence fills the car on their ride home from the party. Harry drives. Y/N stares out the window the whole time.

As soon as they step past the threshold of their house, he states, “We need to talk.”

“I’m not really in the mood.” She slips off her heels and heads upstairs. He follows closely behind.

“You can’t keep avoiding this, Y/N. We’re going to have to talk about it at some point or this relationship’s not going to survive.”

She reaches the top of the stairs before replying, “It wasn’t going to survive anyway.”

She knows those words are like a slap in the face to Harry. They make him pause in his tracks. Meanwhile, she continues toward their bedroom, the flames of her fury crackling inside her.

“Why would you say that?” he asks, joining her in the bedroom a moment later.

She talks while changing out of her party dress, “Because you don’t trust me, Harry, and everyone knows a relationship without trust is doomed to fail.”

He sighs and sits down on the bed. “I do trust you. I just made a mistake, all right? I was drunk and—”

“Classic excuse.” She pulls on a pair of comfy shorts and an old worn-out t-shirt of hers.

“Not making excuses. I take full responsibility for what I said. I’ve apologized so many times over text, and I wanted to apologize in person when I got home from tour, but you were the one who didn’t want to talk and I respected that.”

“How generous of you.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you stop with the little quips? It’s bloody annoying.”

“Annoying? That’s it? I’m being called way worse online,” she says with a bitter smile.

His gaze drops to the floor. “You know I don’t look at that stuff, and you shouldn’t either.”

“Kind of hard not to when people are spamming my friends’ comments, accusing me of cheating on you, slut-shaming me for hanging out with any guy who isn’t you. You know, none of it would bother me that much if my own boyfriend didn’t believe it too.”

“I don’t! Jesus, Y/N. I don’t believe any of that.”

“Oh, really? Then why did it take you a whole week to reach out to me after our fight on the phone?”

He swallows and stares down into his lap. “I—I was just trying to give you space. I was... I was...”

“You were what?” She prompts him to finish his sentence, but when he doesn’t, she fills in the blanks for him, “You were still trying to figure out if you were right about me cheating. It wasn’t just something you said by accident while you were drunk. You really believed it. Didn’t you?”

He closes his eyes, defeated. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She shakes her head and turns away from him, clenching her jaw. “God, I can’t even look at you right now. I’m so fucking angry.”

“I was scared, Y/N,” he says in a small voice.

When she looks at him, his green irises are swimming in tears. She hates how the sight instantly makes her soften.

“Of what?” she asks.

“I was scared that I was losing you. No one should have to put up with the shit that you put up with on a daily basis just for being with me. It keeps getting worse. It’s—it’s like the more success I have, the more people in my life suffer and I don’t know how to make it stop and it kills me, Y/N. It absolutely kills me.” The tears escape his eyes now, freely roaming down his cheeks.

“Baby...” Y/N’s heart breaks for him. It shatters. She walks over to him and takes his face in her hands, wiping her thumbs under his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He keeps repeating himself, his hands trembling in his lap.

“Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” She pulls his head into her chest and gently runs her fingers through his curls to calm him down.

Once he seems calmer, she suggests that they go to sleep for now and have a proper conversation tomorrow when they’re both fully rested. So, they get ready for bed and crawl under the covers together. Y/N invites him to nestle his head against her shoulder and plays with his hair until he falls asleep.

***

The next morning, she wakes up before him. He’s lying on his stomach next to her, his cheek adorably squished against the pillow. He looks extremely kissable, so she can’t help but lean over to plant the softest kiss on his face.

Then she lays there, staring up at the ceiling while her mind ponders over last night’s events. The heart-wrenching look on Harry’s face as he confessed his fear of losing her is engraved in her brain.

Jeff had told her that he wasn’t doing well, that he felt guilty about all the animosity she’d become victim to. But at the time, she was too angry—justifiably—to give it much thought. Now that the anger has subsided and she understands the real reason behind Harry’s accusation, she feels nothing but compassion and empathy for him.

His eyes flutter open a few minutes later. She turns her head to the side to look at him.

“Morning, handsome.”

He smiles and mumbles sleepily, “Morning.”

They stare at each other for some time, basking in the sunlight streaming through the curtains and in each other’s presence.

“So, I was thinking...” Y/N begins. “It’s Saturday. We’re both free. Why don’t we go on a long walk today?”

He nods. “Yes, please. We haven’t done that in a while.”

That afternoon, they prepare for their walk, bundling up in layers to insulate from the crisp weather of early December. They pack some snacks and a blanket into a tote bag in case they decide to sit and eat somewhere for a bit. Harry hikes the bag onto his shoulder and they head out.

As they stroll through the park with Y/N’s arm looped around his, they pass by several people walking their dogs. One particularly adorable pup catches Y/N’s attention as it scampers by.

“Oh, look at how cute that puppy is!” she coos, tugging on Harry’s arm. “Ugh, I want a dog so badly.”

“We can get one, you know.”

She gives him a look. “H, you’re on tour, like, nine months out of the year. We’d be the most absent dog parents ever.”

“Yeah, but when I’m on tour, you’ll still be here, right? So, the dog won’t be alone.”

She realizes that he’s going off the assumption that she won’t be joining him on tour in the future. “About that...” she says. “I came up with a plan.”

He quirks an inquisitive brow.

“Since I went remote at work, a few other people have as well. My boss likes how productive everyone’s been, and she wants to make a permanent shift to remote work in the new year. So, I was thinking that I’d join you on tour for a few weeks at a time, and whenever I feel like I need a break, I’ll just come back to London for a little while, then fly back out to you. How does that sound?”

She looks at him, and it’s apparent from the way he’s biting his lip that he’s trying to contain his excitement.

“Perfect. That sounds perfect,” he says, hesitating before adding, “Honestly, I thought you’d never come to another one of my shows again. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” she states firmly. “That’s exactly what the assholes want, isn’t it? They want me to skip the shows. Well, they can’t get rid of me that easily! In fact, they’ll have to physically pry me away from you if they really want me gone.”

He laughs. “How romantic.”

“I’m serious!”

“Oh, I’m aware.”

Later into their walk, they find a secluded area in the grass to lay out their blanket and rest while munching on snacks. Y/N offers him some Skittles. As he reaches into the bag, digging around to find the red ones he really likes, Y/N says, “H, I need you to promise me something.”

“What?” He finds a red Skittle and pops it in his mouth.

“I need you to promise me that you’re going to stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control.”

He stares at her, slightly puzzled.

“The things that people say about me, or anyone in your life for that matter, are out of your control,” she explains, “and if you keep blaming yourself, it’s only going to destroy you.”

He sighs and leans back on his hands, gazing up at the clear blue sky. “I know. I try so hard not to. It’s just reached a whole other level these past couple years, and I feel so helpless. Feel like I should be doing more to protect you.”

“You’re doing the best you can.” She reaches out to caress his cheek. “And I don’t need you to protect me. All I need is for you to trust me when I say that I’m not going anywhere.”

He turns his head to kiss the inside of her palm.

“I’ll always be yours, H.”

The last three months may have been the most trying period of their relationship so far, but Y/N wouldn’t change a thing because what they went through only strengthened their bond. They learned their lessons. The worst is over. They may always look back on this time with a bittersweet reminiscence, but one thing is for certain: they won’t put each other through anything like that again.

And if they were able to get through this and still stay together, Y/N feels confident that they can face anything.

***

Thank you for reading! MASTERLIST

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