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psychedelic-ink · 4 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐕𝐑𝐄

ㅤㅤmarcus pike x art historian!reader

genre: mutual pining, friends to lovers, forced proximity, smut, minors dni,

word count: 6k

summary: when a famous art collector is murdered, circumstances lead you to be temporary roommates with Marcus Pike.

warnings: oral sex (marcus receiving), marcus getting spoiled, some very mild angst, idiots in love

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @sevillagrenada! thank you so much for your support and thank you so much for this delicious idea, I had a blast! ❤️‍🔥

** dividers made my the talented @saradika-graphics 💜💜💜

Another day, another handsome detective at your doorstep.

It’s been a few months since you and Marcus first got acquainted. He had visited you during one of your busiest hours, asking you for information on a recently stolen painting while you were desperately trying to sort out a curated disaster by one of the interns. It didn’t end well. You ended up shouting at him to leave you alone and even though you regretted your choice in showing how distressed you were, it was what it was. What surprised you later, however, was finding him in the early morning hours with two coffees and blueberry muffins. He apologized profusely and asked for a do-over. Something that you were more than eager to oblige.

And the rest, what most art historians like you would say, was history.

Now he visits you almost every morning if he can. Thanks to his charm, you were now considered the number one go-to person of the FBI when it came to art theft. A title you didn’t mind having.

“A bit early even for you, don’t you think?” you say, handing him the folders you’d been carrying. You smile as he lets out an exaggerated “oomph” and go to open the door. “Don’t be a baby, detective.”

“I just wanted to see you, what’s the harm in that,” he answers, following you inside. “I have the day off tomorrow so I won’t be visiting.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

“Good to see that someone appreciates it.”

He takes a seat as you head for the coffee machine. You’d got it a month ago, saving Marcus the trouble of waiting in line every morning before work. You appreciate having this as an excuse for him to stop by every morning. Luckily, the museum was on his way to work, meaning he was more than happy to visit you. Sometimes it’s hard to forget that this relationship between you two is meant to be nothing other than friendship, a platonic thing. But every day you find your heart swelling more and more at the sight of him. It’s been too long since you felt close to someone. It’s been even longer since you ached for a person you know you shouldn’t ache for.

“Are you working on something with Remedios Valo?” When you turn you see him hunched over your desk, his eye meet yours, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, all these books were just sprawled here. I couldn’t help but look.”

The coffee machine comes to life, the aroma mixing in with the scent of books.

“That’s alright,” you answer, lips feeling numb. “And yeah, Olivier is adding one of her works to his collection so he wanted me to take a look.”

“Which one is he buying?”

You know he absolutely despises the idea of art being bought, hidden from the rest of the world to be a decoration. You hear it in the drop of his voice.

“Les Feuilles Mortes.” His gaze falls back to the table. “Dead leaves. The one with the woman with orange hair and green dress.”

He hums when he finally sees it on the page, “It’s a nice one.”

“It is. It’s one of my favorites.”

You bring the two cups of steaming coffee. His eyes find yours as you place them down, taking a seat. “You must be excited then,” he states. “To be seeing it in person.”

“I’m just happy it’s going to someone I know will take care of it.”

“I did meet him once. Seemed like a decent enough guy.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, “You really hate art collectors don’t you?”

“With a passion,” a soft smile touches his lips. “But I’ll make an exception for you.”

You shake your head, smiling into your cup as you bring the steaming liquid to your lips. He’s always like this. Making sure just how much you matter, making you feel cherished, it’s a contrast to how you feel most of the time. Your eyes fall on the painting printed onto the glossy paper. Everyone interprets art differently. In this particular piece, you see loneliness but also a peaceful serenity. The shadow bowing to the woman, them being connected with a piece of blue yarn that she’s holding. The fact that it’s blue and not read also piques your interest. It makes you think it’s not something that is forced, it’s not the fates that brought them together but something else. Something more intimate and free.

“So, when are you seeing this stunning artwork in person?”

“Tonight.”

Marcus already knows that today is going to be a long day.

He knew it as soon as he entered his office, all fellow agents gathered in one place, murmuring. They parted like the Red Sea when he came through. That’s when the captain told him that extinguished art collector Olivier Balmaceda was found dead. Murdered.

All he could think of was you. How excited you were to see him, and the painting, tonight. How Olivier was your friend and what would this mean for the investigation? Everyone here knew you, adored you. You being close to the murder victim certainly wasn’t good. He didn’t want you to be involved in any way, not even as a consultant.

He steps out of the unmarked FBI sedan, his leather shoes echoing against the pavement as he approaches the crime scene. His partner, Tim, follows suit, both agents taking in the scene that awaits them.

The art collector's mansion looms before them, an opulent testament to a life steeped in appreciation for creativity. The air carries a faint scent of antique wood and the unmistakable aura of the art world. As they enter the expansive gallery, it becomes clear that Olivier Balmaceda's passion for art extends far beyond mere aesthetics.

The crime scene, bathed in the soft glow of gallery lights, is surreal. Olivier lies in the heart of his sanctuary, surrounded by the very beauty that defined his existence. The juxtaposition of life and death against the backdrop of artistic brilliance is haunting.

Tim glances at Marcus, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Together, they navigate the intricate dance of art and tragedy. The paintings, sculptures, and tapestries bear witness to the final act of a man whose life was intricately interwoven with the world he cherished.

As Marcus approaches Olivier's lifeless form, he can't help but feel the weight of the art that envelops them.

The art collector's mansion is cloaked in an air of somber anticipation as Marcus's focused gaze is drawn back to Olivier's lifeless form, nestled among the artworks that had once been a source of joy. The forensic team, adorned in pristine white suits, moves with meticulous precision, weaving through the crime scene like careful curators preserving a delicate masterpiece.

"Bullet entry at the back of the head. Looks like a single gunshot," Marcus hears one of them say, his voice a measured cadence amid the artistic silence.

Marcus nods, absorbing the gravity of the information. The team proceeds, each member contributing to the careful orchestration of documentation. His path takes him to the abstract painting, now surrounded by the scrutinizing eyes of forensic experts.

"We're scanning for any hidden messages or anomalies. This painting could hold clues.”

"Keep me posted," Marcus replies.

His attention turns to the delicate sculpture, now cocooned in an evidence bag. Tim approaches, his words a whisper against the backdrop of the gallery.

"Looks like they're treating the whole gallery as a crime scene. Anything stand out to you?" Tim inquires, his voice a muted harmony in the investigative symphony.

"Not yet. We need to dig deeper, find the connections between Olivier and whoever did this," Marcus responds, his words a subtle melody of determination.

The investigation shifts towards Olivier's desk, adorned with sketches and notes – a tableau of potential motives. They meticulously examines the papers, unveiling a narrative hidden within the inked strokes.

"Possible motive here. Let's see if Olivier was working on something that could've angered someone," suggests the expert, their words punctuating the air with a promise of revelation.

Acknowledging their findings, Marcus's thoughts churn with possibilities. Just as the investigation prepares to move to another sector of the mansion, his discerning eyes catch sight of a sketchbook nestled on a nearby shelf. A flicker of curiosity sparks within him, prompting the donning of gloves.

"Hold on a moment," Marcus interjects, a pause that reverberates through the dance of forensic activity.

The team halts, their collective gaze directed towards Marcus as he delicately retrieves the sketchbook. Its presence is unassuming, a silent witness to the unfolding drama. As Marcus flips through its pages, the sketches reveal a familiar artistic style, each stroke a brush with recognition.

"Wait... these look like—" Marcus begins, his words a murmur to the sketches that come to life beneath his fingertips.

Tim glances over, an inkling of recognition in his eyes.

"Isn't that—"

"Yeah. It's hers," Marcus confirms, closing the notebook.

So much for not getting you involved.

“Captain, you can’t be serious.”

Your eyes are drawn to Marcus, his voice holding the tone of nothing other but disbelief. Your eyes turn to the floor. Olivier is dead. Murdered. And the only proper evidence to connect the dots of what happened is your sketchbook. The sketchbook you could’ve sworn you left in your office. The sketchbook that you only kept to yourself other than Marcus and a couple of more trustworthy people. One of them being Olivier.

You close your eyes. It’s exhausting to breathe. You focus on how your nostrils flare and let it all out through a small gap between your lips. Marcus inches closer, hand firm against the small of your back.

“I’m dead serious, Agent Pike,” Captain Lana answers, her voice calm yet cold as ice. “Until this entire case is solved, she’s on house arrest and under your care.”

“Just because we found her sketchbook does not mean she’s a suspect—”

“Agent Pike,” her voice cuts through the tension in the room. A sharp shudder crawls up your spine, your skin prickling with attention as you open your eyes. Despite her tone, she doesn’t look mad. “You will do what is best for our consultant. As of right now, she is linked to the case of one of the biggest art collectors for reasons we do not know. The best thing we can do is keep an eye on her and protect her.”

His mouth slams shut, his jaw clenched. His hand deserts your back and in that moment, all you can feel is guilt. Guilt of him being forced to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do.

To share his home.

“I understand,” he answers curtly, turning on his heel. “Let’s go get your things.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you, shooting Captain Lana a glance, you follow him out of the office.

Marcus hasn’t said a single word during the entire drive. Even when you finally parked, he just took your bags and led you up the stairs to his apartment. Your heart felt as if it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. The poor organ was already weighted down by your friend's death, and now one of the closest people to you couldn’t even look at you.

He drops your bags to the floor and you slowly shut the door. You don’t even have it in you to look around, not that it would matter, you’ve already been here before. You doubt anything changed.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything else. “God, Marcus, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

His hands are on you in an instant, lifting your downturned gaze. You blink away the tears, breath catching in your throat as you meet his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in them. You could live an eternity there. “For . . for having to stay here. I know it’s inconvenient.”

“Oh, sweetheart no, no. You could never be an inconvenience. I’m. . . I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I should’ve checked in on you. None of this is your fault understand. None of it,” his thumbs draw slow circles around your cheeks, the knot in your throat growing by the second. “And for all it’s worth, I’m happy that you’re here. I would be worried sick knowing that you’re alone.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled into his chest, your senses completely enveloped by his scent. He gingerly cups your head from behind, holding you there, allowing you to disappear from the world for a while.

The first tear escapes unexpectedly. It’s immediately absorbed into his shirt and the rest follows. He doesn’t try to hush you, doesn’t try to get you to stop. He allows you to break down completely. You cry and cry, until there’s nothing left anymore. Only then does he pull back, lifting your gaze to him once more.

“Feeling better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Marcus.”

He shakes his head, “I’m not doing anything you should be thankful for. This…this is what friends do.”

That’s right. Friends.

Your eyes sting when you blink, a forced smile tugging at your lips, “Yeah, friends.”

You’re almost certain that you’re imagining it, but you swear the crease between his brows deepens with your answer.

The soft glow of the TV screen bathes the room as Marcus settles onto the couch beside you. “Really? That’s what you want to watch?”

Marcus raises a brow as he looks down at you. You’re wrapped in a blanket, looking as if the two of you have been living together for years. He loves how you’re already comfortable with the living situation. He wished he could have this in better circumstances without an ongoing murder investigation, but he’ll take what he gets.

“I haven’t started the new season yet, it’ll be fun.”

“It’s a murder mystery. Are you sure?”

You snort, “I know the plot of Only Murders In The Building, Marcus. No need to remind me.”

As the first episode begins, the room is filled with the intriguing soundtrack of the show. Marcus watches the characters unfold on the screen, but his attention keeps drifting back to you. The play of emotions on your face, the way you get caught up in the plot – it's more captivating to him than any murder mystery.

Gradually, you lean into him, seeking comfort in the shared moment. The warmth of your presence seeps into Marcus's consciousness, and he finds himself entranced by the way you become absorbed in the show. Unconsciously, his arm drapes around your shoulder, the gesture protective yet tender.

In the semi-darkness of the room, Marcus grapples with his own emotions. The line between friend and something more blurs as he navigates the uncharted territory of his feelings. As you snuggle closer, he can feel the gentle rhythm of your breath, the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses Marcus's mind. Does this closeness mean the same to you as it does to him? He wonders if you sense the subtle shift in the dynamics between you. The arm around your shoulder, a silent invitation, speaks volumes, but Marcus Pike remains in that delicate space between uncertainty and the unspoken desire for something more. The murder mystery on the screen becomes a mere backdrop to the complex enigma of emotions unfolding between two souls entangled in the intricacies of life and love.

Marcus's heart races as he lets his hand linger on your waist. He can feel the warmth radiating through the fabric of your shirt, and he wonders if you can feel the heat of his touch as well.

He watches your face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but all he sees is the same intensity and focus on the TV. It both thrills and confuses him – is it possible that you can be so oblivious to the way he feels?

But as he watches you, he notices the faint hitch in your breath when his hand moves slightly, as if you're aware of his touch but trying to hide it. It only fuels the growing attraction between them, and Marcus can feel himself getting more and more drawn in.

His mind is filled with images of how he wants to touch you, and he can barely contain the urge to lean in and brush his lips against your neck. He wants to feel your skin against his, to explore every inch of your body.

The tension in the room becomes palpable, and Marcus can feel his heart racing. He looks over at you, and for a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of desire in your eyes. But just as quickly, it disappears, and you go back to watching the movie without a second glance.

His hand moves even closer to yours, brushing against your fingers lightly. He can feel the heat emanating from your body, and he knows that you're just as affected by the electric chemistry between them.

His mind is clouded with desire, and all he can think about is kissing you, touching you. But he knows he needs to be patient. He can’t just make a move and potentially ruin the friendship you have.

But as the episode goes on, Marcus can barely pay attention anymore. All he can focus on is you, and the way your body moves slightly with each scene. He can feel himself getting harder with each passing moment, and he knows he needs to do something to release the tension.

Without thinking, his hand moves to your thigh, tracing small circles on your skin. He can see your breath hitch and your eyes flutter closed for a split second before you regain your composure.

He leans in closer to you, his lips just inches away from your ear. "Is this okay?" he whispers.

Marcus relaxes when you nod, eyes still glued to the screen. He knows you want to turn to him, to witness his feelings lingering in his eyes but he also knows that you can’t for the same reason why he can’t tell you how he feels. Fear. Fear of rejection. Of loss of a friendship.

So, his hand on your thigh is as far as he’ll go. Soothing you with the simplest of touches.

The credits roll and the episode ends, Marcus can't help but feel a lingering sense of longing. He knows he needs to push these feelings aside and focus on the case, but he also can't deny the strong connection he feels with you.

As you stand up to turn off the TV, Marcus suddenly reaches out and takes your hand in his, surprising both of you. The air between them is heavy with unspoken words and tension, but they both know this isn’t the time or the place.

For now, they'll focus on solving the murder and catching the killer. But Marcus can't shake the feeling that this shared moment was the beginning of something more – something that could change everything.

It’s been almost two weeks now since you moved in with Marcus. And other than Olivier’s murder, things have been. . . peaceful. He’s been doing everything for you. You’ve never been taken care of to this extent before. It made you feel bad in a way, as if you were a burden to him and now he felt inclined to take care of you just because of the circumstances.

However, you couldn’t ignore the tension either, the chemistry. Almost every night you thought of when the two of you watched TV. How close the two of you were. You often find yourself thinking about how differently that night could’ve ended. Only if you were brave enough, then maybe the friendship could’ve escalated into something more.

While heating leftovers for the both of you from last night, the door clicks open. You expect to see his smile, the same question on his lips asking how your day was—but all you can see in his eyes is exhaustion. He forces a smile when he sees you, then silently heads to his room. Your lungs cave in on itself. Your body buzzing with worry, you look down at the barely heated leftovers. He deserves something more. Something fresh.

So, as you quickly head down the hall to check on him, you order his favorites. You come to a halt at the door, heart beating in your throat, you knock.

“I’ll be right there,” he says, almost apologetically, which makes you feel even worse.

“I just wanted to check if you’re alright. Can I. . . Can I come in?”

You’re about to head back to the living room when the door slowly opens. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt wide open, exposing skin. You barely manage to tear your gaze away. He looks vulnerable, defeated.

“I’m okay,” he clears his throat. “I promise.”

You ignore what he says and take a step forward, forcing the both of you inside the bedroom. It smells of cinnamon. “I ordered us some food from that place you like. We have some time to relax.”

“Relax?”

You let out the breath you’ve been holding and trap his face between your hands. You want to make him feel good. You want to pamper him. At least this one time, you want to do something for him instead. You know what his answer is going to be if you ask him about his day—he’ll brush you off, because it’s the case you’re involved in. The murder of your friend.

“Let me make you feel good, Marcus.”

His eyes widen, lashes fluttering, his lips part, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to but I want to.” You quickly add when you see the hesitation growing in his eyes. “Please.”

You notice the hollow in his cheek, the way his jaw moves as he chews on the inside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest. After what feels like hours, his head jerks in a small nod, “Okay.”

Marcus gently falls onto the bed and you drop to your knees, taking a place between his spread legs. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze intense as you fumble with his belt. You tug down his pants along with his underwear, his hips slightly lifting to make it easier for you. His cock is still soft. It makes a certain type of hunger grow inside you. Placing both hands on his thighs, you dip down, taking him into his mouth. He sharply inhales, cock twitching over your tongue. It doesn’t take him long to grow in your mouth, and suddenly swallowing him down proves to be harder than you thought.

Your nostrils flare as you attempt to swallow him down, your nose brushing against the soft curls. His hand gently cradles the back of your head, and when you look up you see his head falling back, his brows furrowed as he breathes heavily through his nose.

Parting away, you suck the base of his cock, your tongue swirling. His hips jerk and a moan rips from his throat. “That—that feels good,” he swallows.

“You like it slow?” you say, lips moving against sensitive skin. “Tell me how you like it. Show me.”

“You’re doing great sweetheart, just do it how it’s best for you,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not picky.”

Brows knitting together, you pull away and fix him a half-hearted glare. You wrap your fingers around and begin to stroke him, witnessing the flex of his thighs. “I want to do it how you like it,” you state. “Show me or I’ll stop.”

Your lips curl as you hear him whine. It’s such a beautiful sound.

“Fine.”

He drags you back down to his cock, your hand falling away. You open your mouth to take him once more, thinking that he wants to fuck your mouth, but instead, he presses your lips to the side of his cock. You feel the heat of him, the bulging of his veins.

“Wrap your lips,” he rasps and when you do, he starts to move your head up and down.

You let out a muffled moan, the vibrations sending shivers down Marcus’ spine. His movements are slow, almost as if he’s fucking himself deep into you—almost as if he’s been thinking about this for months. Your head bobs up and down, your lips pursed around him tightly. You hear him grunt above you, and you can tell that he’s struggling to keep himself in control.

“Put your hands back on my thighs,” Marcus commands, and you do so without hesitation. “I want to feel the bite of your nails.” His thighs are shaking beneath your touch, and you can feel the coiled tension inside him, just waiting to snap. You do as he asks, digging your nails slightly into the flesh. Another whimper falls for him, a sounds desperate and needy at the same time. He pulls up and finally slips himself into your warm mouth, your eyes water as he pushes you down, taking him whole.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Marcus grunts, his voice punctuated by the wet sounds of your mouth on his cock.

You keep up the pace, eager to please him. You can feel his cock growing harder and harder inside your mouth, and you can tell that he’s close. You swirl your tongue around him, pressing your lips even tighter around him.

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters, his hand gripping your hair tightly. “I’m gonna—”

Before he can finish his sentence, he releases into your mouth with a deep groan, his hips bucking up into your face. You eagerly take him in, swallowing around him as he spills, hot come trailing down your throat. He lets out a heavy sigh, his body going limp as he comes down from his orgasm.

You sit back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Marcus looks at you with admiration and slight embarrassment, his cheeks peppered with a faint shade of red.

“Sorry, that was quick,” he murmurs, tugging you up and pulling you to his lap. “Now it’s your turn.”

He leans towards your lips but you stop him by pressing two fingers, they’re soft. “We can think about me later,” you say, despite the inside of your panties being an absolute wet mess. “I just wanted to make you feel good.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” he objects, nipping at your fingers. “Don’t you. . . I thought you wanted me.”

The guilt in his eyes is back and your hand drops away from his lips. He’s holding you tight as if you might disappear.

“I do,” you answer tentatively. “But I don’t want you to jump into this thinking you have to. I don't want you to do anything you might regret.”

“Regret?” he shakes his head. “What does that even mean? I’m not jumping into anything. I’m not confused if that’s what you’re worried about,” his arms around you tighten, and with that, you know you’ve said the wrong thing. “You just sucked my cock—are you telling me that was out of pity? Gratitude?”

You cut him off, “N–No. . .”

“Then what was it?” his voice drops dangerously low, eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and hurt. “I’m one hundred percent here. It has nothing to do with the case. And for you to do something just because you felt bad for me. . . I thought we were finally getting somewhere after all of this.”

“Marcus—”

“I think I want to be alone right now,” he turns his head away from you but doesn’t do anything to push you off of him. Your apology dies in your throat, your mouth suddenly dry. You slowly move away, the taste of his come still in your mouth as you contemplate what to do. What to say.

But whatever you were planning evaporates with the ring of the doorbell.

You’re sitting on the couch when Marcus comes home and sits on the armchair right across from you. You’re eyes slowly shift from your phone to meet his gaze, he continues to stare down, his thumbs thrumming over his thighs.

It’s been an awkward couple of days after the argument you two had. Neither of you were brave enough to broach the subject, However, that didn’t mean what happened didn’t haunt you in the dead of night, both in a bad and a good way.

“It’s done.”

His words send a chill down your spine, your muscles tightening, “What’s done?”

“The case. We found who murdered Olivier. . . and how your notebook got there.” Marcus takes a deep breath, his eyes finally meeting yours as he begins to unravel the mystery that has been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud.

"Olivier's murder... it was someone close to him. Both rival and friend," Marcus starts, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation. "Turns out, his friend had been eyeing the same collection for years. When Olivier outbid him for that prized painting, it pushed him over the edge."

You feel a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of shock and sorrow swirling within you. Olivier, with his vibrant personality and passion for art, didn't deserve such a fate.

"And my notebook...?" you prompt, needing to understand how your own belongings ended up tangled in this tragedy.

Marcus sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Olivier... he wanted to show your sketches to one of his friends. He thought you had real talent and he was planning on gifting you that painting."

Your heart sinks at the realization. Olivier, you’re going to miss him. Marcus wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support as the weight of the emotions you've been suppressing finally spills over. You lean into him, the warmth of his embrace a soothing balm for the wounds of the past few days. His touch is both reassuring and grounding, reminding you that you're not alone in this tumultuous journey.

"I'm here," he murmurs softly, his fingers gently tracing comforting patterns on your back. "It’s over now. You can return to your life and begin to heal."

“Heal?” you blin at him, lips parting. “Return to my life? What does that even mean? We can’t go back to normal Marcus. Not after everything. . . I—” You swallow, the knot thick in your throat. “I care about you, Marcus. I care about you deeply and I just want you to know that. I don’t want you to think it was a one-time thing. Ot that I did it because of the circumstances. I did it because I wanted to. And I wanted to long before any of this happened.”

As your heartfelt confession hangs in the air, Marcus's eyes soften, his expression reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. Without hesitation, he leans in, closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. It's a moment of shared vulnerability, a silent exchange of emotions that speaks volumes more than words ever could.

The warmth of his touch ignites a spark within you, a reassurance that despite the challenges you've faced, your connection remains unbroken. In this intimate embrace, you find solace and hope for the future, knowing that whatever trials may come, you'll face them together.

As the kiss deepens, the weight of the past few days begins to lift, replaced by a sense of renewal and possibility.

Marcus's hands move to your waist, pulling you onto his lap as he deepens the kiss. You feel his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire within you. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair.

His lips move fervently against yours, conveying the unspoken emotions that have been building between you for weeks. You can feel his heart beating against your chest and it's a comforting reminder that you're not alone in this moment.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a tingle in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, arching your neck to give him better access. His hands roam over your body, his touch setting every nerve alight. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Your fingers move to his shirt, desperate to rid him of the barriers separating your skin. His lips trail down your neck again, moving to your shoulder, his hands roaming freely over your body. You let out a soft moan, arching your back as his hands reach your waist, pulling your shirt off. The cool air hits your skin but it's nothing compared to the heat radiating between you two.

Marcus and you remove each other's clothes. Your hands roam hungrily over his bare chest, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He moans softly, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move to your back, unhooking your bra and gently sliding it off. Your bare chest presses against his, skin against skin, and the sensation sends sparks of pleasure through your body. Your lips meet again, his tongue moving alongside yours, his hands roaming lower to your waist and down to your hips, pulling you closer.

You push him down to the couch, your hands reaching for his jeans. With ease, you undo the button and slide them off, revealing his toned legs and the bulge in his boxers. Your fingers trail down his stomach, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

He flips you over, his lips moving down your neck and to your chest. With a flick of his tongue, he takes one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan of pleasure. His hands reach down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them off your legs.

As his lips continue to travel down your body, his fingers slide into your underwear, eliciting a gasp from you. You can feel the heat and wetness building between your legs, the tingling sensation increasing with every touch.

In one swift movement, he removes your underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable to his touch. But with Marcus, you feel anything but vulnerable. In his embrace, you feel safe, loved, and desired.

And you know that is something that will never change.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x fem!reader #marcus pike x f!reader #writing commission #the mentalist fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic

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gurugirl · 4 months

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Can We Start Over | Ch. 4 The Exit Strategy

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 4. Summary: It's hard for Harry to overcome not feeling a bit hurt after you left him the way you did but there are bigger issues you need to tackle, like the fact that Harry's doing something shady as well as figuring out how you feel about him.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, feelings of confusion and turmoil, angst, illegal dealings

Can We Start Over? masterlist

Harry woke up alone in your hotel room. He sat up and rubbed his hand over his chest and he couldn’t help but smile thinking about what had happened the night before.

But he couldn’t figure out exactly where you’d gone. He peeked into your bathroom and then stepped into his room, “Y/n?” You were nowhere to be seen. The smile he wore fell when he realized you weren’t there. Perhaps you’d just stepped out for a moment? But why? Harry looked at the clock to see it was only just past 7 am. For coffee perhaps?

Harry slid on a pair of pants and the shirt he wore the night before as he found his shoes and his key card. He figured he’d go find you. Something told him you hadn’t simply stepped out to grab a coffee.

“Y/n?” You quickly turned and saw Harry heading toward you. You’d been sitting in the lobby looking out the window. It was rainy. You’d planned on a walk but weren’t too fond of getting yourself all wet just so you could go through your existential crisis outside.

Standing up from your spot you gave him a weak smile.

“What are you doing? Is everything okay?” Harry stood in front of you and dropped his eyes over your frame. He looked frazzled. His shirt was mostly left unbuttoned and his hair was a mess. But the way he seemed worried had you suddenly feeling bad for the way you left him. But it wasn’t like you could stay either.

“I uh…” you scratched at your neck and frowned, “Needed some air. Needed to think about last night.”

“Okay. But did I do something wrong?”

You blinked your eyes and looked toward the front desk where someone had approached reception before looking back at him, “No, you didn’t. I woke up and realized… it didn’t feel right.”

Harry stood with his mouth agape for a moment before he began to shake his head, “Let’s go back up to the room to talk. We can’t do this here.”

You nodded, “Okay.”

He had turned around before you could even get out a response. He could tell by your demeanor what was going on. You regretted it. And now he felt like shit. He braced himself mentally for you to reject him.

The silence on the way up to your room was loud. Harry had his arms crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes down. He was clearly going over in his mind what had gone wrong.

And you figured maybe he’d give you the silent treatment once you got into your room but the moment the door was closed behind you he started, “Did I do something wrong, Y/n? Tell me the truth.”

You shook your head and looked at his face, “No. Of course not. I wanted it. I just…” you sighed and sat down in the chair by the window. Your head was fuzzy. Not only had you gotten little sleep everything with Harry was confusing. Your feelings surrounding him didn’t make any sense.

“You just what?” He leaned his back into the wall across from you and crossed his arms over his chest again. Now he looked like he was becoming angry.

“I feel like that was a big mistake. I should have known better than to do that.”

“Are you serious? You felt like that was a mistake?” He gestured with his arm before tucking it back against his chest.

Nodding you put your palms on your thighs and looked down, “It just can’t happen ever again. We shouldn’t have done it. I regret it.”

There it was. Harry pushed himself off the wall and laughed as he shook his head, “Wow. Okay. I asked you if you wanted it. If you were comfortable… But now you’re telling me it was a mistake? How do you think this makes me feel? Waking up alone thinking I was gonna have you there with me in bed. Really thought you were okay with it. Fuck…”

You watched him pace the room, “Last night I wanted it. I just… I woke up and felt like this shouldn’t have happened.”

Harry nodded and put his hands on his hips as he watched the floor, “Fine. You win. This back and forth between us,” he looked at you, “No more. That’s why I was cold toward you, and kept you at a distance, Y/n because it’s easier for me to be that way. The moment you wanted us to be amicable… I tried. But I hear you now. Loud and clear.”

Needless to say, the flight back was like torture. Harry hardly spoke to you and he certainly didn’t look at you. You had to jog to keep up with him half the time. Part of you was worried that he’d have the driver leave without you when he was already outside at the car and you were struggling with your suitcase which had lost one of its wheels somehow.

He finally did speak to you when you arrived at his home, “You’re free to do as you please today. No work. I’m gonna go out. We’ll get back to it in the morning.”

And that was it. You didn’t see him after he went to his room and you didn’t hear him leave but you knew he did.

“We had sex.” You called Brandy as you walked around in the back garden, after making sure you were totally alone and no one could overhear you.

“I knew you would, he–“

“No. It’s not like, Brandy. I hate that I did. I feel awful. I feel like I disrespected myself for it. What he did to me? That first night? How can I even feel attraction toward him? Sure he apologized and I understand what happened, but the fact remains, he treated me like garbage.”

“Y/n, don’t beat yourself up. You’re only human. And you two do have a connection, even if it’s small. He likes you. But it’s okay to not do it again. You still have a job right?”

You sighed, “Yeah. I don’t think he’ll fire me but… I don’t know if I can handle working for him anymore. What if something happens again? I’m just gonna keep feeling bad and Harry’s gonna get mad. Like now. He’s pissed.”

“Why is he pissed?”

“Because he woke up and I wasn’t there and told him it was a mistake so now he feels responsible I guess. I don’t know. He’s not really been talking to me since I told him I regret it.”

There was silence from Brandy for a beat as you sat on the bench under the trees at the far end of the garden.

“Was it good at least?”

You rolled your eyes, “Brandy…” you said in warning.

“Hey. I’m your best friend. You don’t have to act all high and mighty with me. You had sex with him again. Was it good? Like, at least if it was good then you can walk away knowing you had one last good time.”

“Of course it was. He’s good. But that’s really not the point, Brandy.”

“I know it’s not the point. I’m trying to get details from you is all. I’m nosey and what can even I say to make you feel better anyway? I feel like sometimes you take yourself way too seriously, Y/n. It could be good to lighten up a little. I know this feels like a big deal to you. I get it. I’m here to listen but there’s nothing anyone can say to you or anything you can do to reverse what happened. I’m here for you but truly. You could just calm down a little. Lighten up a touch.”

“Lighten up? Are you saying this is somehow my fault?”

“I didn’t say that. Why does this have to be anyone’s fault? Why point fingers? Shit happens. Why do you always need someone to blame?”

You sighed and closed your eyes, “I know. I like things neatly categorized and this is so not neat or categorized… I just feel like since I don’t know where to put this feeling it has to have a reason. But you’re right. The reason is just that…”

“Is just that you’re human and you gave in to a very human need. So did he. You both did nothing wrong in this case. I mean, maybe not the best idea to sleep with your boss, but like…” she laughed.

“Yeah, that’s another thing that’s hard for me to wrap my mind around. I slept with my boss. How do I go from here?”

Brandy chuckled into the receiver, “God you’re so dramatic, Y/n. I love you but you take shit way too seriously sometimes. Some things don’t need to be explained. Okay? Now you’ve got what you want, right? He’s probably not going to be flirty with you anymore after this since you told him it was a mistake. No more sex with the boss.”

You and Brandy were pretty much opposites when it came to personalities. She was light-hearted and went with the flow, while you were serious and liked order. You knew she was too light-hearted at times, though. Some things were serious and did need explanations so you could learn from them and never do it again.

But sometimes she was right. She had a good point about this issue. What could be done? You’d told Harry your feelings about sleeping with him again and even if it did hurt his feelings or make him mad you did what you felt was right for yourself. And that was that. What more could you do?

. . .

Harry walked through his front door sweaty after his run. It was 8:30 am. Your mornings usually started at 8. When you’d gone into his office and he wasn’t there you set up your laptop and then went down to the kitchen to get coffee.

It was unlike him. Normally he was ready for the day before you’d even woken up.

You watched him walk past you, not a single word as he went upstairs where you imagined he would go shower and then he’d join you in his office after he was done.

Except he didn’t go into his office. You were sat in your usual spot and responding to a couple of emails before you saw one from him.

Book two business class seats (not together) to Buenos Aires for the Friday after next, returning Sunday. See the attached for the email of the person we’ll be meeting and book the hotel he recommended. Set up our meetings and get the wire information from him in advance. Send to me before finalizing anything so I can look it over.

You frowned at this. You didn’t like that he was emailing you rather than speaking to you. You didn’t want him angry with you but you supposed this might be better than him being too friendly.

Harry’s attitude the rest of the week was the same. He only spoke to you when it was absolutely necessary. Not once did you find his gaze on you. No smiles or laughing. Nothing.

You hadn’t expected him to be so cold with you. You figured the boundaries you were placing with him were good ones. That he’d come around and understand why they needed to be established.

But instead of him being nice to you and having evening chats in his kitchen after Carl left and getting to know him slowly, he was completely shut off. You could say that he was being professional with you. Which was what you wanted.

Not like this, though. Not with barely a glance or a friendly smile. Not a single dimple showed itself to you over the next weeks.

And now here you were with him in Argentina where you should be enjoying red wine and empanadas but instead, you were sitting quietly while he conducted his meeting with the seller.

You said no to wine. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t push you. In fact, you heard him let out an annoyed short laugh and a mumbled suit yourself.

The man you were meeting with had a small stone sculpture that was considered an ancient artifact. You didn’t know how it was that he procured the item but it seemed like something that should have been in a museum. You did learn that many years ago it was considered stolen or lost. That didn’t sit well with you.

And when you tried to confront Harry about that he said nothing. He did look at you. His severe gaze sliced into you before he looked back at his computer and continued doing whatever it was.

You wanted to ask more questions. The man wasn’t even a gallery owner or someone from whom you’d normally buy art. The whole thing was shady. Something was off and Harry was giving you nothing.

But when you heard the price tag of the item you coughed and your eyes widened. The three of you were in a small dark room with shelves and boxes and the sculpture was sitting on a table under a light as Harry carefully inspected it.

“It’s legit. This is the real thing. I’ll let you look this over,” the man handed Harry a manila folder, “…you can see the paper trail. Where it stops. The timeline matches up. I’ll give you three hours to make a decision but after that, I have to move it to a safer location. I hope you understand the time constraint.”

You and Harry left the building, in silence as became your norm, and got into the car to head back to the hotel.

You watched Harry look through the paperwork and check the provenance but you knew this item was not going to have everything in place since it seemed it had been lost for some time. Big red flag. Perhaps this was what made Harry the kind of money he had. Dealing with lost or stolen artifacts was big money and definitely illegal. He had told you that he never did anything illegal.

Back at the hotel, Harry pointed, “Meet me in my room. Get your laptop. We have some work to do if we want to make this deal in the next three hours.”

You felt nervous. Felt sick to your stomach. Something was amiss about this whole deal and you didn’t like it. You weren’t sure you wanted to be involved at all.

When you got to Harry’s room he was on the phone with someone, “I saw it in person. It’s real. They are asking 2 but I can talk them down to 1.7. From there you and I can discuss what you’re willing to pay me but with the risk I’m taking I’d want a minimum of 2.5.”

He was discussing money. And you knew he was talking millions. The risk was that it was something that should not be on the market to purchase.

You waited for him to get off the phone before you spoke up, “Is this an illegal transaction?”

Harry looked down at his cell phone and typed something in before looking at you, unaffected, “No. I told you. Nothing I do is technically illegal.”

“I don’t want this to come back to bite me. If I’m involved in this and something happens? I could be linked somehow and I don’t –“

“Nothing is going to happen other than a huge payout. Just do your job, Y/n. I need you to find everything you can about this,” he clicked his phone and looked back at you, “Just sent it to your email. Look through everything and compare it to the photos I attached. Go down the checklist attached and make notes. The item had some damage and I need to get his rate down so my client will be happy with the price.”

You got to work. Even if you were hesitant a bit, you didn’t want to disappoint Harry. He was your boss above all. And you were stuck in Argentina with him.

But the more you learned the worse it was. The item had been stolen during World War II. Now that was a long time ago but still. You understood why what Harry was doing wasn’t “technically” illegal. Because the client would be the one wiring the full amount and from there, Harry would meet in person with the client to get his cut once you got back to the U.S and he handed the item over to them. It was illegal but it wouldn’t come back to Harry. His name wouldn’t be associated with the transaction.

When you’d given Harry everything you found he seemed pleased.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” You said as you stood in front of him as he looked over the provenance and your findings.

“And what do you suggest? Just walk away? You do realize your salary is based on how much money I make, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah but if it’s illegal then I don’t want to be part of this. And Harry, this is illegal. Maybe your name isn’t on anything but this whole thing is–“

“Stop! I already lost out on the last big deal because of you and I’m not doing it anymore. You’re nothing but an employee to me, Y/n. That’s what you wanted so that’s what you’ll get.” He made it a point to remind you that his behavior was your fault.

You dropped your mouth open and felt your heart drop. He blamed you for the failed deal with Hallie? You didn’t know what to say. It made you feel awful. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes as you looked down and turned away from him so he couldn’t see what his words had done to you.

“Now let’s get ready. Meet me in the lobby in thirty minutes.”

You stayed quiet during the whole thing, which seemed to be your new norm. You didn’t even look at Harry. You wouldn’t. You tried to get over the hurt feelings you had but that turned into anger. You were feeling mad. He was a true asshole and you were glad you had that clarity now. No more feeling bad for hurting his feelings. He was probably faking his feelings anyway.

After the deal was done you both went back to the hotel together but Harry left to get dinner. Alone. You ordered room service.

And you weren’t going to be drinking anymore. Not while you were anywhere near Harry. If there was even a chance you’d see him you’d not be drinking. That seemed to make you forgive him too quickly and you didn’t want to forget about how angry you were with him.

. . .

Nothing changed even when you got back to the U.S. Harry hardly spoke to you unless it had something to do with work. He didn’t even ask you to get his lunches from Carl anymore. And if you saw him in the kitchen late at night you’d just turn around and walk away. You didn’t have anything to say to him.

You sucked it all up, though. The money he was paying you was good. Very good. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. You could only be his punching bag for so long.

Every morning you would get your coffee and Harry’s for him as well before bringing it into his office to begin your day. That morning was like every other morning. Or at least you thought it was.

“Y/n can you close the door behind you? We need to talk about something private.”

You paused at the door and as you looked at Harry behind his big desk you took your foot to gently shut the door since your hands were full.

Placing Harry’s mug down on his desk you sat down in your usual spot and waited for him to speak.

He sat back in his chair and turned to look at you, his expression unreadable, “I need you to sign this,” he slid a piece of paper across his desk toward you, “It’s a confidentiality agreement. I should have had you sign it when I first brought you on but… Well, now’s a good time I think.”

You picked up the paper and looked it over. An NDA. He wanted you to keep your mouth shut about the illegal things he was doing. And you were sure this was his plan all along. To hire you, give you a taste of that big fat salary and the kind of lifestyle he paid for you to enjoy, and then hit you with this.

“Why would I sign this? It only protects you?”

Harry reached for his coffee and took a sip before responding, “Because I’m telling you to sign it. Because I’m your boss. Because I need you to keep quiet about what you’ve seen if you’re going to work for me.”

You shook your head and sat the paper down on his desk before picking up your coffee mug and sipping it slowly then taking a deep breath for what you were about to tell this asshole, “I’m not signing it. You either trust me or you don’t. And if you don’t then I’ll leave right now and you can find someone else to be your bitch. I’m not someone you can just walk all over. I’m not taking the fall for you ever.”

“Is this really how it’s going to be? You’re willing to walk away from this job because of an NDA?”

You nodded, “Absolutely. It’s an insult to me and my character. I take this job seriously and you know that. This is you trying to exert your power over me and I’m not falling for it.”

Harry stood up from his desk and walked to his window with his back to you as you stayed seated comfortably and took another drink of your coffee.

On the outside, you appeared calm but on the inside, you were freaking out. This could be it. You would probably be losing your job now that you were taking a stand against Harry.

“I didn’t want it to be like this, Y/n. I thought maybe you’d understand the need for this agreement,” he turned toward you and walked to his desk, putting his palms down on the wood with his eyes on you, “Sign it. Please.”

You laughed and sat your mug down before standing up from your chair, “No.”

Harry rubbed his hands over his face, “God damnit!” He paced toward his bookshelf and back, “I need you to sign that. I’m gonna be honest here and say I don’t want to have to find anyone to replace you. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I’m not signing it, Harry. I already told you that if you feel like you can’t trust me at my word I’m out.”

Harry rounded the desk and stood in front of you, “I trust you but this,” he pointed at the document, “needs to get signed.”

Shaking your head you let out an incredulous laugh, “You know what? I don’t need any of this. You and your shady deals… the way you treat me–“

“How do I treat you? Hm?” He blocked you from stepping away from him.

You swallowed, “You’re not nice. Just because I felt uncomfortable after we had sex, you got your ego hurt or whatever and so you’re taking it out on me and… acting like I did something wrong.”

“I’m treating you the way you want to be treated, Y/n. This is exactly what you wanted. Is it not? Because you know what’s going to happen if we get too friendly again. So it’s this or the alternative.”

You tried to step to the side and move around him but he followed, staying directly in your path, “You’re not leaving this room until you sign that,” he pointed at his desk as his eyes bore into you.

“You can’t make me sign that, Harry. You have no power over this situation and you know it.”

“I don’t want to fire you, Y/n. Please just sign it.” He sounded defeated.

You pushed at his arm lightly to get him to move out of your way but he wrapped his hands under your forearms to hold you in place, “Y/n, look at me.”

You huffed and looked up at him, held in place by his hands and speaking through clenched teeth, “What?”

“I need this from you. Okay? It’s me. You can trust me. I know you know that. I might not be the nicest person to you but that’s just so we can maintain a professional relationship like you want. Please, Y/n.”

You couldn't understand why it was so important to him. If he trusted you he wouldn’t need it. But he did seem desperate.

“I can’t sign that. That’s incriminating to me if anything were to ever get out. My signature with a promise of silence? No. No way.”

Harry looked up at the ceiling and groaned before he looked back down at you his hands moving up to your upper arms, holding you still, “I’ll give you a raise. I’ll make it worth your while, Y/n. What do you want from me? What will it take to get you to sign it?”

You pulled your brows together and shook your head, “There’s nothing you can do to get me to sign that, Harry. This is a matter of trust. And it’s an insult. Another fucking insult from you.”

“No. It’s not an insult. It’s not personal. I trust you. I do. I swear.”

“Then you don’t need that do you?”

He was standing too close and his fingers were digging into your shirt over your skin and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You noticed the stubble along his jaw and the darker patch of growth above his lip. Normally he was quite clean-shaven. Sometimes he’d let it go for a few days and you had to admit, you kind of liked the overgrown, unkempt look.

“Y/n,” he closed his eyes and you saw him clench his jaw before he looked back down at you, stepping in closer, “I… fine. You don’t have to sign it today. I can’t lose you or have you walk out on me. If we can trust each other then we can make this work. Will you take some time to at least consider signing it?”

You sighed and looked down at his shirt for an escape from his gaze, “I don’t know. I don’t think I can ever sign that.”

He released one of your arms and put his hand on your chin, pushing your eyes back up to his, “Just don’t walk out, okay? I’m worried you’re gonna quit and I’m gonna be fucked without you.”

You hated that you loved his hands on you. All it took was his nearness and his soft eyes looking into yours. But you didn't know how to respond exactly. You were glad he wasn’t going to make you sign it, yet. But how long did you have before he was badgering you about it again? You were still going to say no.

“If you trust me, you don’t need my signature on that document. I’ll never put pen to that paper, Harry.”

“Y/n…” his voice came out in a whisper as he moved his other hand up to your face, his thumb at your temple, “I just want to know you’ll stay. Forget the document right now.”

Even though you knew what was happening you couldn’t figure out why you weren’t trying to stop it. Why you weren’t pushing him away and telling him to keep his hands to himself.

“I’m here right now aren’t I?” You whispered back to him and suddenly your hands were on his forearms as he cupped your face in his hands and everything around you turned into a blur when his mouth found yours.

Your heart pumped violently in your chest as you slid your hands up to the back of his head and you felt yourself being moved to his desk, your bottom hitting the wood as he leaned over you and moaned when he felt your tongue against his.

You felt a notebook slip off the desk and something metal tipped over, hitting the wood. Everything was happening so fast.

Harry placed one palm down on the desk as his other hand held the back of your head, his tongue and mouth were instantaneous, urgent. You felt like a wilted flower about to blossom.

And you felt his desperation because you were experiencing it just the same. You both breathed in through your noses for oxygen as your lips slid together wetly. He was overpowering your senses but it was welcome in that instant. His scent, his weight against you, the stubble on his face scraping your soft skin.

His nose turned into yours and pushed your head to the side as he lowered his mouth down to your jaw. Wet, hot presses of his lips and licks of his tongue had you letting out a shaky moan as you clung to him tightly.

When he grazed his lips over your neck and sucked gently on your skin before lapping over the tiny bruise you felt his mouth lower to your sweet spot. That one little sensitive area that had your entire body igniting with need, your figurative wilted petals being nourished and opening up, seeking the sun and water and breeze.

“Don’t leave me, please,” he whispered into your neck between kisses and you stuffed your fingers into his hair.

Everything was spinning and disintegrating around you as his lips were ravaging your neck and up to your jaw again.

“Tell me you're not gonna leave me,” he pressed his mouth against yours, “Please, Y/n.”

The kisses slowed down, your mouths moving gently together, tongues softly poking out and retreating until you parted from the kiss, pushing at his chest so you could sit up.

And when his lips weren’t urgent against yours you felt the heavy realization of what had just happened crumble around you. You didn’t understand why you didn’t stop it at once, why you let it happen in the first place. Your brain new better. Your heart could not be trusted.

Your chest heaved as you looked at Harry, your hands still on his chest, “We can’t do this…”

Harry put his hands over yours, unmoving from his spot so close to you, “We can. There’s no reason to pretend there isn’t something here, Y/n.”

You watched his chest rise and fall and his kiss-swollen lips mouth the word please. You couldn’t hear him say it but you knew he said it.

Shaking your head you pushed him away and stood up, dizzy and flustered as you ran to the door to leave. For breath. For distance.

“Y/n wait!” Harry ran after you. “Please!”

You went to your room and stuffed your bag with things you’d need (for what? You weren’t sure at that moment) as Harry watched you from your door, “Y/n. Where are you going?”

You cleared your throat and looked at him. Which you immediately regretted. He looked heartbroken, “I need some air. I have to get out of here. I’m sorry,” your words were rushed as your hands trembled with the items you collected to bring with you.

Harry watched in dismay as you picked up your keys and walked past him before he reached for your elbow to stop you, “That’s fine. If you need to think. Just… come back to me okay?”

You couldn’t look at him as he said it and you didn’t respond as you walked down the stairs and out the door.

It was all too much for you. Reconciling what you knew you should have done and what actually was happening didn’t synch up. It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t stay there with him any longer.

. . .

Harry thought you’d return that evening after cooling off. He had a whole speech prepared for you. An apology, a confession… The NDA was because he was worried you were going to quit and that you might wind up saying something about what you’d seen.

But that had been stupid of him to try and get you to sign it. And you were right. It was a power move in a way. He wanted you to know who was in charge and put you in your place because he was so frustrated at how you’d regretted something that he longed for. Something he wanted. He’d wanted it so badly and then he had it… until you took that away from him. So this was vindication on some level. Vindication for the blow to his ego. To his heart. But that wasn’t fair to you.

When you didn’t come home he decided to give you space. Surely you’d be at work in the morning at 8 am. You just needed time.

But at 8:15 the following morning when you still hadn’t even so much as called he realized you may have needed more than just air. And that was concerning.

He called you and left a voicemail. And waited. And waited. You didn’t call back.

So he texted you later in the day after working a little (but he could hardly think of anything but you) but the response was the same. Radio silence.

Now Harry didn’t like being in serious relationships and didn’t like people invading his space or having someone clinging to him or wanting his attention or relying on him to be their emotional support in any way but his heart squeezed painfully in his chest when he thought about you and how much he enjoyed your company. It hurt to know that you weren’t feeling the same kind of connection he was feeling. It stung that he’d given a little bit of himself to you, whether you knew it or not, but that you rejected it. You didn’t want it.

He'd give you another day before he came knocking on your door to find out what was going on. One more sleepless night to let you come to your senses.

. . .

“Look, I know you, Y/n. You do this. Anytime someone gets close to you, you brush it off like it didn’t exist. When your dad tried to come back into your life last year? How he wanted to see you and make up for all that lost time?”

You shook your head, “That’s different.”

“No, it’s not. You run away from your problems when you can’t contain things in one neat and tidy box. And your relationship with Harry was never neat and tidy. So you’re pretending he doesn’t exist.”

You bit your lip and looked away from Brandy. You knew she was right in some ways. You couldn’t handle messy. Anything to do with your emotions that you couldn’t settle up in your head seamlessly you wanted nothing to do with.

And you couldn’t settle your heart and your head when it came to Harry.

“At least call him and tell him you don’t want to work for him anymore. I mean look at these texts, Y/n…” She held your phone out to you but you turned away. You couldn’t look. She’d read them to you already. You knew what they said. “He’s worried about you. All he’s asking is for you two to talk.”

Shaking your head you stood up from her couch, “I’m not talking to him. I’ll let the agency do it. I’m emailing Monica to tell her I need to be matched for something else.”

Brandy watching you grab your laptop from your bag and shoot off the email.

“I think it’s a mistake to quit.”

“Why would this be a mistake? Even if he was the nicest guy on earth, we can’t work professionally together. He can’t be my boss when we’re unable to stop from kissing in the middle of a disagreement or having sex on a work trip.”

You were leaving out the fact that he’d been up to something shady. Illegal. You decided you’d wait to reveal that to Brandy once everything blew over. As much as you hated that Harry was conducting business the way he was, you didn’t want him to get into trouble. Not that you ever thought Brandy would go off to the police or anything. It just felt better to keep that knowledge to yourself for a while.

“Okay. Fair enough. But you two have something. Why would you throw that away?”

“Because we don’t actually have something, Brandy. His judgment is clouded because I work for him and he likes that power, and that’s what turns him on. I’m easy access and forbidden. He doesn’t actually like me like that. And I guarantee the moment he learns I’ve quit he’s going to forget all about me.”

Brandy laughed, “You have to stop thinking that men don’t like you. You have to stop feeling like no one would ever find you attractive or that when they’re flirting with you that they aren’t. You always push that notion away but it’s crazy! It’s okay to admit when a man likes you back, Y/n. It’s okay to let that happen.”

You weren’t buying it. Men, as a rule, didn’t find you pretty. Not really. Not pretty enough to fall for. You were the safe girl for men to be around when they liked someone else. There would never be any confusion about that kind of thing. Not from you, not from anyone looking in from the outside.

Except Brandy of course. Always the optimist. You wonder what she’d say if she knew the whole truth about him.

. . .

Harry had it all planned out. He was going to buy you flowers and bring those special decadent chocolates from the chocolatier he learned you loved and beg for you to forgive him, or whatever it was that needed to be done. He was going to tear up the NDA in front of you so you knew he trusted you without a doubt. Confess his feelings to you once and for all. No more playing coy with you. He was going to win you over. Whatever it took.

And it was crazy that he was suddenly feeling such despair at the thought of losing you. He knew he was developing feelings for you. It was easy to fall for you with your spunk and your take-no-shit attitude, your adorable smile, your sexy mouth… there were countless things about you that he couldn’t get enough of. Knowing you might not come back had him anxious and feeling sick over it.

But before he had even gotten through half his day at work an email popped up from Personal Premier Services with the subject line: Exit Survey – Y/n Y/l/n 2776

He blinked his eyes as his heart thudded when he opened the email.

Dear Mr. Styles,

We’re sorry the assistant we matched you with didn’t work out. We strive to make sure all of our clients are pleased with the performance of each of our employees and would appreciate your response in the link provided so we know how we can make better choices for you in the future.

We’d love to be able to continue working with you. Please let us know if we can be of further assistance in finding the right person to work with.

Harry couldn’t finish reading as his eyes burned and his mouth went dry.

You had quit. You’d walked out after he kissed you and you weren’t coming back. He hadn’t expected you to quit. He should have seen it coming based on your lack of response to him but he didn’t. He was blindsided. Somehow he’d clung to the tiny bit of hope that you felt the same for him too.

Even though he was in the middle of searching for a piece of art his client wanted he stood from his chair and picked up his car keys, hurrying out of his home to make his way to you. There was no time to stop to pick up flowers or chocolates. No time to wait until the end of the workday after he’d made arrangements with a client. No time to pretend things would be okay anymore.

It took him over an hour to get to your apartment, traffic was shit. No surprise. He pulled up his contacts to find your apartment number once he arrived, and got out of his car to find which door was yours.

When he did find it and knocked with no answer he tried peeking into the one window but he could barely make out anything. You had drapes hung over the window and it appeared all the lights were off.

So he waited. He sat by your door and waited for you until you came back. Nothing else was more important to him at that moment. Even if he waited all night. To Harry, this was code red. His last shot with you.

. . .

You were feeling clear-headed. It was the right choice. It had to be because you couldn’t work for a man like Harry. A man who did illegal things and wanted you to sign an NDA so you wouldn’t talk. A man who you were far too attracted to for it to make any sense. It would just be a series of fights and cold shoulders and sex and longing…

Definitely, it was the right choice to quit. It had to be.

Unfortunately for you, when you got to your door Harry was there, scrambling to push himself up from where he’d been sitting, “Y/n…”

“What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk. I want to make things right with you.”

You shook your head and gripped the shoulder strap of your bag, “There’s nothing to make right. We aren’t good working partners. I should have never agreed to work with you.”

Harry stepped forward and took your hand, “Y/n. We… this isn’t even about work anymore okay? I don’t care about that. Quit if you want. If that’s what you need.”

You pulled your hand away from him, “What do you mean this isn’t about work?”

He sighed and kept his eyes on you, “Because… I like you. I feel like we’re–“

“No. Stop. Don’t do that. You’re confused because when I worked for you that was fun and risky for us to do. But I’ll bet that when the disappointment of me quitting wears off you’ll realize you don’t actually like me like you think you do.”

Harry furrowed his brow as you stepped past him to unlock her door, “What? What are you talking about? I’m serious, Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t think you actually are, Harry,” you pushed your door open.

He was beginning to panic. He hadn’t expected you to reject him telling you that he liked you.

“Wait. Please. Look, okay,” he put his hands up in surrender. “Can I come in? We can just calmly discuss this. Person to person. Also, I really have to take a piss. I’ve been out here for almost four hours waiting for you and I should have thought about that before I left my house but I was in such a rush to get here–“

“Fine. Come in.” You let him through your door and closed it. “Bathroom’s just there in that hall. Do want something to drink?”

Harry looked at you with those soft eyes that made you falter for a second, “Some water would be great. Thank you, Y/n.”

You couldn’t believe that you’d let him in. That you were pouring water for him while he used your toilet. In your apartment. You shook your head thinking about how ridiculous it was that he was sitting outside of your door waiting for you.

When he came out you had his glass of water on a coaster on your coffee table in front of the couch. You took the chair at the side. There was no way you were going to sit next to him. Things didn’t seem to always go as planned when he got too close and you couldn’t have that happen.

“Sit,” you gestured at the couch.

Harry sat down and picked up the glass of water, taking a few big gulps, nearly finishing the entire thing.

You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for him to talk. You had nothing to say in that moment. You hoped it would be quick and he’d be out soon. You didn’t want to look at his handsome sad face for too long or you were worried you’d fold once again. Seemed it didn’t matter if alcohol was involved or not after all.

“Y/n you don’t have to work for me. I know maybe it’s not the best environment when we’re both attracted to one another the way we are. That’s okay. But… I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

“You’re not attracted to me in the way you think you are.”

Harry let out a laugh of confusion, “I can tell you with 100% certainty that I am extremely attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re sexy. You’re intelligent and funny. I like you, Y/n.”

You shook your head, “Like I said. Wait until the disappointment of me quitting clears. You’re just not getting your way right now and that’s a challenge for you and you’re mistaking those feelings for excitement or attraction.”

The look on Harry’s face was sheer confusion, “What you’re saying is absurd. I came here to confess my feelings for you, Y/n. I… I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone. This is not some strange psychological thing where I’m confusing a challenge for attraction.”

“And you’re into illegal things so I just… I can’t be around that. It’s not worth it to me. You wanted me to sign an NDA. Put my name on a document that proves guilt and sign off on it? And now you’re telling me this? I call bullshit.”

“I don’t want you to sign the fucking NDA. That was stupid. It was in bad taste. It was a way for me to make sure you didn’t quit. I was desperate for keeping hold of something I felt slipping away.”

You laughed loudly, “A lot of good that did.

“I know. I’m so sorry. Y/n please… I’m dead serious here. Do you not like me? Are you not feeling this?” He gestured between himself and you.

You forced yourself to make eye contact with him and it nearly had your heart torn in shreds. You didn’t like the way your mind said one thing and your heart screamed at you for another. But even if you did like him and he liked you, then what? He was doing things that were disreputable. Illegal. That made him a person you didn’t want to be around. You had morals and you had your dignity to look out for.

“Harry it doesn’t matter what I feel or what you feel. I can’t be with you as an employee or a lover, or whatever it is you think you’re looking for. You’re involved in illicit sales of stolen artifacts and artwork. It’s illegal and I know that most of the money you’ve made has been doing dirty deals. How can I ever get over that?”

He looked down at the floor in thought. You were right. He understood your position but he couldn’t accept it. It was too much for him to wrap his head around that you would deny your feelings for him just for something that he thought wasn’t all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

“Y/n, I think it does matter what you feel and what I feel. I think that matters more than anything else actually,” he got up from his spot and you watched him with caution as he stood in front of you and got onto his knees, taking your hands in his, “Y/n, I can’t just walk out of here like this. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. You feel this too, don’t you? Tell me the truth.”

The fucked up part about looking into his eyes was that you softened for him every single time you did it. You tried to be strong and fierce. To be a woman with unshakable values and a strong sense of self but Harry had you feeling wobbly and unsure, “I do, but… it’s not fair.” You willed the tears to stop from filling your eyes.

“It’s not fair to us to ignore this. This feeling. This connection, Y/n.”

“Harry, what’s not fair to me is the way you treated me that first night. What’s not fair is that you hired me and didn’t disclose to me what you really do to make your money. It’s not fair to me that you’re here right now saying all this to me when it’s impossible! How can I say that I respect myself if I allow this to go any further with you?”

Your tears had a mind of their own as they pushed their way out of your sockets and poured down your face. You closed your eyes and then felt Harry’s thumb at your cheek, wiping your tears.

“Y/n, what do you want? What do you want me to do? Hm? How can I make you forgive me for that night? That was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made. And everything else? What can I do?”

You shook your head but you didn’t dare open your eyes to look at him, “Harry you can’t do anything. The damage is done.”

“Y/n I can make it right. Please tell me what to do.”

“You can leave. That’s what you should do.” Finally, you peeled your eyes open and looked at him directly. You wanted him to know you meant business.

“Can’t we just–“

You pointed at the door, “Leave. Now. Leave my apartment, Harry. Go.”

Harry stood up slowly and swallowed thickly as he scratched the back of his neck and turned toward your door.

You pushed yourself from the seat ready to lock the door behind him but he turned back to look at you, “Please don’t do this, Y/n.”

You felt a pit in your stomach and a lump in your throat as you pointed at the door, “Go. Please, Harry. Just go.”

When your door was closed and your deadbolt latched you broke down into a sobbing mess on your couch where he’d sat. Only in private would you let yourself feel all those things your heart had pleaded for you to feel. You didn’t want anyone to see this. To know how devastated you were. It was the right choice but the ache in your chest felt like hopelessness.

To have found someone like Harry, the glimpses of his soul and his kindness and his cheekiness, the way he treated you when things were good…

But you had to collect yourself and wipe your tears and move on.

It was time to figure out your next move. Your lease was coming up and you had enough money to find somewhere else to go now. You felt like a new start in a new apartment, maybe in a different city would be good for you. It would make it harder for Harry to ever just traipse up to your apartment again and try to sweep you off your feet.

The first thing you did was block his number and his email and then you opened your laptop to begin the search for a new place to live. A new beginning.

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 month

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: billy butcher, hughie campbell, frenchie, mothers milk, kimiko, and soldier boy

↳ warnings: canon type violence and happenstances. hinted to take place during season three at some points.

↳ notes: sorry butcher is in here so much. he's the kind of guy that can't shut the fuck up, so i feel like he's always getting in everyone business no matter what

↳ song: rock me like a hurricane—scorpions

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𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

• He has mixed feelings about you

• On one hand, you’re a great team player. Always making sure the job gets done, willing to put yourself on the line for the team, one of the most willing to kill a supe in a snap—second only to him—and always managing to make shit up on the fly whenever something inevitably goes wrong on a mission. Butcher has seen you fend off an entire team of armed Vought men before with nothing but a well timed lie and piece of pipe. That’s not something to scoff at, even if he does anyways

• But on the other hand, he has a feeling that you were just as much as an annoying shit as he acted sometimes

• “Sorry to say this guys—“ You said one night through the food in your mouth as Chinese takeout sat on a dirty table in front of you, curtesy of M.M and his pocketbook, “—but I think I’d betray you all for a fortune cookie. I’d betray my country for a fortune cookie.”

• "You say that like we ain’t already betrayin’ the cunts, sunshine.” Butcher eyed you from across the room as you nicked Frenchies own cookie from him while he was staring off at Kimiko for the tenth time that night

• “Too right, Butch.” You grinned like a shark at your idiotic nickname for him, and he ignored you as you did so; like he always did

• He definitely appreciates your enthusiasm behind his plans. Unlike Hughie or M.M, who despite working in the business of taking down supes seem to be hesitant about doing too much shit, you don’t seem to have a very strong moral code. That’s not necessarily a good thing in anyone’s eyes except for Butcher’s, who knows that he can always count on you to have his back in whatever situation he manages to squeeze himself into

• “Thanks for comin’.” He grunted at you while vomiting into a toilet, green bile spewing from his mouth. Butcher’s eyes burned with the urge to let out a laser beam, and he did so for a moment, splitting the porcelain throne we was leaning over in two

• “Want me to hold your hair back for you, honey?” You didn’t even miss a beat to start making fun of his situation, which made Butcher growl at you even from his current position. Despite your sarcastic demeanor in the moment, and the way he had just scorched an unexpected hole through the shitty bathroom, Butcher knew you’d help, no questions asked. And that’s exactly what you did, grabbing whatever he asked you to as he gave you a run down on the latest solo mission he had been attempting to get by with on his own

• “Jesus, poor Gunpowder huh?” You mused as you crossed your arms and leaned on the sink above him. For a moment Butcher thought you were granting the dead supe a bit of sympathy before he saw the glint in your eyes. “If the last thing I saw before I kicked it was your mug, I’d probably wanna get it over with yeah?”

• “Do me a favor. Go grab the toaster in the other room an’ take a nice bath with it, would ya?”

• “You first, Butcher.”

𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥

• The two of you are like peas in a pod. Two very weird, very cautious peas in a pod

• Even if Butcher is beside himself with annoyance at having another, as he put it, “soft cunt with a morality complex,” join the team, Hughie couldn’t be happier that someone seems to share his values on supes, on Vought; on the world, really

• In the first season or so, the two of you would probably spend a lot of time in between working with everyone else in the field to come up with a way to take Vought down the right way. Eventually,as we all know, that later falls apart, but it exhilarates Hughie to know that there’s people out there like him that want to try and put in the effort for things like that

• “Yeah, so if we can get one more witness about the Termite incident to come forward and testify—“ You bit your pen between your teeth and nodded as Hughie waved his hands over a stack of papers and talked at a million miles an hour, somehow understanding each and every word.

• “—then we could finally take a supe down legally. And that would make way for a whole round of others; Hughie you’re a genius.” You finished his sentence for him, slapping a hand down on the table with a grin as Hughie smiled. Somewhere in the distance someone snorted wryly, no doubt having heard the entire conversation. You had no doubt it was Butcher, but that didn’t matter to the either of you with how happy you were at the revelation. No matter how temporary it would turn out to be

• Hughie finds himself trusting you quite a bit. He can get attached pretty easily, so he finds himself willing to do anything to back you up—within reason of course. He still has some semblance of sanity left

• Listens to Billy Joel with you! Doesn’t matter if you all are coming back from a mission covered in blood—once it was whale guts—he will stick one earbud in and leave the other out for you as he presses play on a mix. More than once the others have found both of you passed out and snoring as the faint sound of Billy Joel plays through the headphones

• “Think we should wake them up, mon amie?” Frenchie tilts his head as he looks down on the both of you. Hughie chest rises and falls with a softness he couldn’t afford on the regular. You were positioned far away from him to have your back to him, somehow keeping your end of the earbud in as you drooled

• “Nah, let em sleep. God knows they need it.” M.M shook his head with crossed arms, the sight reminding him of better times

• “Oi! Stop ogling at the knackered sods and come help me with this, would ya?”

• “Fuck you, Butcher.” M.M said with a sigh, leaving the room to go and help anyway

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞

• He fucks with you so hard

• I mean, come on, someone that’s as excited about making bombs as he is? Someone that is willing to understand French? To shit talk everyone else to their face—especially Butcher?? He might have to marry you on the spot

• Please learn French. He will literally beg you to start. Conjugates, vocabulary, even a simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Anything at all. Will absolutely not judge you for your horrific accent or pronunciation if you have any

• Bomb lessons on the side, too. If you already know the basics, or are a pro, it’ll be a lot more breezy, but he’s willing to start from scratch. It’ll be nice to have a partner to help him with his creations on the team for once, and even better since he likes you

• The two of you, and Kimiko obviously, are practically joined at the hip. What I said about the shit talking earlier was real, too. All of you use different languages or sign to voice whatever you’re thinking. It’s nice to be able to speak your mind freely, and there’s the added bonus of not having M.M give you that sharp look of his, or Butcher calling you names. Anymore than usual, that is

• “What do you reckon the three of ‘em are always on about?” Butcher took a swig from his drink. He was sitting next to Hughie with a beer on one of their down days as the younger man typed away on a computer. He was watching you Frenchie and Kimiko from across the room as you all signed at each other with giant smiles on your face. Frenchie would speak occasionally, but all that came out was his mother tongue, and your face would pause for a moment as you let your brain process what he was saying. Then all of you would break out into another round of grins, something that Butcher had to deadpan at

• “Probably planning a coup.” Hughie answered Butcher without even looking up from his screen. He knew who he was talking about anyways. It wasn’t hard to guess thanks, to the occasional loud exclamation from Frenchie as you signed something particularly risqué or funny

• Butcher flitted his eyes away in annoyance from you all after he recognized the word ‘cunt’ in the passing conversation, along with a sign that was clearly supposed to represent him

• “I think at this poin’ I’d prefer tha’.” He grumbled into his cup, and all of you laughed

• “Cheer up, Butcher. At least Frenchie isn’t teaching them how to make homemade cherry bombs again.”

• “Shut up.”

𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐤

• Finally. Someone other than him can be the voice of reason in the group

• It’s tiring being the one to hold everyone together all of the time. It might help if Butcher wasn’t so much of an ass, or if Hughie didn’t feel the need to derail every plan with thoughts of his own, but M.M knew that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. So he’d take any help he could get with reigning everyone in

• Definitely bonds with you over your shared habit of wearing band t-shirts to meetups or hideouts. I’d like to imagine that at one point the both of you show up wearing the exact same one, and it goes exactly how one would expect

• “Same shirt.” M.M notices one morning, pointing at your torso with the initials N.W.A written over it. He’s smiling, and so are you as what he’s wearing in turn dawns on you

• “Same shirt!! Hell yeah.”

• Fist bumps. Fist bumps galore, man. The two of you fist bump a lot. To punctuate sentences, drive a point home, agree on stuff—anything. It’s your own way of communicating with each other without having to bat an eye

• It’ll take M.M a while, but eventually he’ll start to really open up about missing his family to you. Beyond just showing you pictures of his daughter at soccer practice, I mean. If he trusts you enough to have his back in a shoot out, then he trusts you with this

• At one point, it goes farther than his (regrettably ex) wife and daughter, and eventually branches out into what he’s willing to tell about his dad and brothers. You feel like you know all of them by the time he’s done, and that only makes the typewriter story hit harder when he finally decides to reveal it

• Let’s just say you were pretty willing to jump Soldier Boy on M.M’s half the first time you were left in a room with them

• “Just one swing I swear—“

• “He will literally beat you into a pulp.” M.M deadpanned, doing his best to avoid looking at the other imposing figure in the room as he clasped two hands on either of your shoulders

• “Listen to your friend, sweetheart. Would hate to have to scrub my hands clean of any of your blood. Getting under the fingernails is always hard.”

• “See what I mean, just one punch that’s all—“

• “No.”

𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨

• It’s honestly great for her to be able to hang around someone that feels the same way that she does. Maybe it’s how silent you are that really draws her attention at first, but Kimiko really grows to appreciate you as a member of the team

• Probably gets a lot of joy from having a friend like you. She constantly asks to do things like have you watch movies with her or to do ‘sleepovers,’ which are really just the two of you crashing on the main room couch together

• She never got a chance at a normal childhood or friends, so you and Frenchie are the closest she gets to a peace of mind

• Not even a question about it, she’s making you learn her sign language

• Will stare at you for days on end, saying nothing but everything at the same time until you agree to learn. Once you do, it’s all over. She gets the biggest most happiest look anyone ever seen, and there’s no turning back from that

• “Kimiko, what are you doing. It’s two in the morning.” You groan at her from under the thin covers of your bed, doing your best to ignore her hands as they fly about. It’s the childish equivalent of ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’

• ‘No time to sleep. We have to go over stuff before the mission tomorrow. It will help us communicate.’ She was unnerved by your lack of enthusiasm. If anything it only spurred her on more, shaking your bed and pulling at your covers as you groaned. Even with the progress you had been making with signing over the past few weeks, your knowledge was still a bit shaky, and being half asleep didn’t help, so you only caught a few words. Enough to know what she wanted, however

• “Go away, Kimiko.” You whined. The shaking stopped, and for a moment you thought your request had worked. You were more than happy to fall back into whatever dream you had been having beforehand

• Then you heard the rushing of feet and a large weight slammed onto your legs

• “Goddamnit!—“

• Frenchie found the both of you the next morning; Kimiko looking bright eyed and bushy-tailed while you were practically falling asleep from where you sat. It was a teasing point for you over the next two weeks

• Between you, there’s moments like that where, despite Kimiko’s silence and your habit to keep your thoughts to yourself, nothing ever goes unseen or unsaid. The two of you know each other like the back of your hands, and sometimes you wonder if you’d even need her sign to communicate

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲

• If the saying ‘this town is only big enough for the both of us’ could apply here, it absolutely would

• It’s almost ironic how bad Soldier Boy handles another version of himself. You’ve got just as much snark and anger as him, and it pisses him the hell off. Constantly.

• Maybe it’s because you didn’t fan boy over him as soon as he flashed a few cheesy lines that keeps his disdain for you boiling, or that you didn’t keep your distance when he threatened to eradicate your entire bloodline if you didn’t stop running your mouth at him

• “Need help with that?” He cocks a brow at you one day, watching with poorly hidden annoyance as you struggle to tie a knot in your shoes for the fifth time in a minute. The offer isn’t serious, and even if it was, he has no doubt you wouldn’t hesitate to kick him in the face if he bent down to tie your shoe for you

• “Need help taking my dick down your throat?” You parroted back at him while raising your voice in a false-happy tone. Finally you get the shoestrings to cooperate, completely missing the way Soldier Boy glows in a harsh warning at your attitude

• “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.” Butcher calls from the room over, no doubt tired of the bickering between the two of you that had been nonstop for the past few days. “Let’s get a move on before one of you decides to claw the others bloody eyes out, yeah?”

• The fact that you’re not even a supe just ticks him off more. Only a few people have ever pushed his buttons like this, most of them being supes, and they always ended up being nothing but red paste in the next few minutes

• You make sure to point it out to him several times that you’re just acting like he always does, making sure to don a shit eating grin when he clenches his fist at your comment

• Please for the love of everything that’s holy tone it the fuck down. Some people may say that Soldier Boy has no self-control, but it sure is taking a whole lot of it not to kick you in the crotch as hard as possible

• “The feelings mutual.” You deadpan at him when he eventually shares that fantasy out loud. He knew full well that if you even so much as tried that, you’d end up with a broken ankle and your front pinned to the closest brick wall, but he had no doubts that you would go for it anyway

• Seriously. How has he not murdered you in your sleep yet

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lets-break-free-from-our-chains · 10 months

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Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!Reader—General HCs

(A/N): I’m obsessed with the Barbie movie. Margot is so stunning as always and she’s one of my favorite actresses. I absolutely adored Ken in the movie. He’s such an icon! Let me know if you guys want more! Sorry if this isn’t the best. This is my first head cannon and I’m using to writing stories and not this format. So beware with me and enjoy!

Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!Reader

The ultimate Golden Retriever (Sunshine) x Black Cat (Grumpy) trope

Fashion Designer!Barbie!reader is honestly very similar to Cruella de Vil from the 2021 Film—minus being evil part. More so, your creativity and chaos vibes are on the same level as Cruella’s.

Ken thought he was in love with Stereotypical Barbie until he locked eyes on you.

You were absolutely perfect. Your style was one of a kind and the hottest in-style in Barbieland—everyone wanted to commission outfits from you— and you seemed so elegant and confident.

Non Evil!Cruella de Vil vibes 1,000,000,000%

He literally tripped right in front of you in his haste to make it over to you, but he pulled himself up and gave you a killer golden smile.

You wanted to say you weren’t amused in the slightest, but even you couldn’t help but give a slight smirk at his goofball antics.

You’d never given him much thought beyond the facts that he was super loud, always freakishly happy, acted like a shaken up soda bottle you accidentally opened up.

You thought you might be able to scared him away with your sharp wit, sarcastic and mocking smart remarks. You were sure that your over all jaded and blunt personality would do the trick.

NOPE!

He falls even harder for you. Finding your honestly, transparency, and overall confidence to be so endearing but so unbelievably HOT. Not even Stereotypical Barbie could touch your level.

Imagine his surprise when he finds out you and stereotypical Barbie are very close friends who go way back. TOTAL Pikachu face!

He loves watching you work. You’re so in your element and hyper focused on what your doing. He’s left in awe while watching you tear apart and shred different fabrics. It’s total chaos but he’d never question you. He trusts your masterpiece process almost religiously.

He asks you a zillion and one questions about what you’re doing but lowkey you kind of love it. Someone taking a genuine interest in your art? Everyone else is either too afraid of the consequences of interrupting you or is uninterested in gerenal.

This is one of the many small things that soften your resolve towards him.

He insisted totally begged you to let him help you carry your bolts of fabrics, material for accessories, and supplies as you went from shop to shop. He refused to let you carry anything.

He talks the whole time and doesn’t really think you’re listening, until you ask him a question about whatever it is he’s babbling about at that point in time.

He could feel the tears of joy welling up in his eyes at the notion that you were actually listening. That could only mean one thing—you respected him.

Don’t even get me started on how Ken acts when you ask for his opinion on a decision or if he likes what you’ve made! He LOVES everything you make btw.

This only sets Ken’s love for you in stone.

Totally asks to be your date to the Barbies parties.

If you thought he was nervous asking out Stereotypical Barbie then oh boy! Fingers crossed, eyes squeezed shut, lip biting—the whole nine yards!

High-key wants to cry when you say yes.

Everyone is always so excited to see the new unveiling of your outfits at any and all parties.

Barbies and Kens never really know what to expect but they all know they’ll be guaranteed the best appearance from you.

Ken is totally smug af that he holds your affections and so he completely and unapologetically rubs it in the other Kens’ faces.

The first time you genuinely smile at him, he really thought he might die! Your smile is so stunning, perfect, opulent, gorgeous, goddess like, and—

He could go on forever. The point is, you smiled at him! HIM. You never smile at anyone! You smirk plenty, but never smile.

Even on the rare occasion that you do, it’s very small—almost none existent.

You always thought he was very funny. He never had to try hard seeing as he was just a naturally silly fella, but the first time you couldn’t hold back and you laughed loudly at something he said, he was in absolute awestruck.

What he said wasn’t even that funny, it was the way he said it.

All the Barbies and Kens ship the two of you. The definition of opposites attract.

Stereotypical Barbie is totally the official president of the OTP ship fan club for you two.

1000% you look at Ken like this 🥺🥹 and you look at everyone else like this 😒🖕 pretty much!

The patience and softness you exercise with Ken makes others feel like they’ve fallen through the looking glass.

You go from being a ferocious she-lion like this to a total mushy docile kitten with him Like this

Seriously, it so easy for you to snap on someone’s case and put them in their places, but with Ken you have a seemingly bottomless pool of patience.

Legit tho. This was you and him at the beginning of your budding relationship in general…you were over it at first. You really weren’t tho

Someone or something please help the person that hurts Ken—accident or not—whether it be emotionally, physically, or mentally. It’s gonna be a dark day in Barbieland.

It warms Ken all over to have a girlfriend who cares about him and his wellbeing so much. He feels so important, loved, and cherished.

And that’s all baby boy really wants!!!

He loves holding hands and linking arms together.

He’d say it’s his favorite but let’s face it, cuddles are his kryptonite.

Your embrace is so warm and soothing, and surprisingly to him, you secretly adore cuddling.

Though you did tell him if he ever told anyone else that tidbit of information you would never cuddle him again!

Honey…He sticks to those words like the gospel!

He cannot and will not lose cuddling privileges💯

Now listen. If Ken’s going to date you then his outfits got to be on point, and you make sure of it. You know what he loves outfit-wise and set to work for making him a one of a kind wardrobe.

He actually does cry when he sees the final product of all your hard work for him.

You hate seeing him cry in anyway, it hurts you to see him cry, but at least these are tears of happiness.

You suppose you can live with happy tears…

You guys become the IT couple in Barbieland. You’re the highest standard for couple goals.

Speaking of boyfriend/girlfriend goals.

He has so many adorable nicknames for you but he will never grow tired of hearing you call him by the term of endearment you chose for him.

You call him Baby Darling…

He. Is. OBSESSED!!!

He just about melts into a puddle whenever you call him Baby Darling.

He’s never heard any other Barbie call their Ken that and it makes him feel so special.

Who else loves and ships Ryan Gosling!Ken x Fashion Designer!Barbie!reader?

#barbie the movie #barbie ken x reader #barbie 2023 #barbie #ken x reader #ken imagine #ryan gosling #margot robbie #ryan gosling!ken #Ryan gosling!ken x reader #barbie imagine #barbie imagines #Barbie the movie imagine #ken barbie #ken x y/n #ken x Barbie reader #greta gerwig #ken x you

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sixosix · 11 months

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BUT THEY ALL LEAD BACK TO YOU | S. HEIZOU

he said, “it’s a shame, then, that it’s against my ideals to commit a crime.” you couldn’t think too hard about what he said because he distracted you quickly with a kiss, even forgetting your name for a moment.

tags implied…Ahem yk, getting together, heizou is pining BAD but so are u (carnally now too ig), sweet sweet fluff

a/n 2700 words, holy shit this was longer than i planned T__T

previous part

"why does this shikanoin heizou want to meet me that badly? how does he even know me?"

kazuha smiles lightly, content with watching you make a mess of your temporary room like a cyclone. “i’m not so certain. heizou has a habit of prying into the lives of people he hears mentioned. i was reminiscing about the day i met you while catching up with him, and he insisted i introduce him before i could talk about anyone else.”

seriously, who does that?

kazuha had mentioned shikanoin heizou before, as with his other close friends. you were listening but not paying attention enough to have him as your surprise not-in-a-romantic-way-date like a pop quiz. it was as though you didn’t have enough time to prepare for heizou’s inevitable “what time and date did i meet kaedehara kazuha and what’s the name of my distant cousin?” but that’s not the case right now, which means what else could doushin shikanoin want from you? a good first impression and a far-from-suspicious job, obviously.

“there’s nothing about me—my hair’s a mess, why didn’t you tell me?— that could possibly warrant a tenryou commission detective’s interest in that way.”

you pick an unruly strand of hair off, then belatedly realize that walking outside would lead to more of them, and there is no point in doing so. you’re deeply stressed.

“clearly he disagrees,” your friend says in return, amused. you do not share his delight, back to pacing across and around your room.

“kazuha,” you groan, “he’s your friend, isn’t he? can’t you just ask what he wants from me? get this over with.” you abhor first introductions. can’t kazuha just tell you if you should ship your ass back to liyue right this instant?

“are you truly this nervous?”

“he’s a detective, kazuha. and no one can know what i do for a living—yelan will kick me out!”

“you don’t have to worry too much. he bears no ill intentions towards you. if he did,” kazuha pauses to meet your eyes intently, turning serious, “i wouldn’t have offered to introduce you to him in the first place.”

you throw your hands in the air, exasperated.

that answers absolutely nothing and only brings more questions. what does he want from you if not your occupation? surely a detective with a renowned reputation such as himself taking an interest in you means that he wants you to spill truths you’ve sworn to lie about.

maybe it’s not too late to ask if beidou wants a trip back home at this very moment.

“y/n,” kazuha says, with a hint of a fond smile, “let fate take the lead for today. you’ll find that it’s nothing like you’re agonizing over.”

your first memory of inazuma city is when kazuha was hauled away by a few people and left you stranded in the crowd, the same one who had seen you tailing kazuha like a lost puppy—the same one who treated your friend as something sort of a celebrity because of his famous block.

in the few days you’ve been wandering around here, you’ve learned that people everywhere, no matter the region, are always too curious. and somehow prepared to bargain for information.

you’re breezing through everyone in hopes they can sense you don’t want to talk with any of them at the moment. the last time you were lenient, new rumors sprung in the air the first few hours you arrived at inazuma, saying that you’re their ticket to meeting kaedahara kazuha himself.

you’d been deeply affronted. you’re not a scammer; even you’re incapable of tying kazuha to one place, much less holding a meet-and-greet for his fans.

“sorry, sorry, hey—wait up! you!” someone calls out from behind, sounding oddly familiar.

irritation spikes.

“i don’t know who kaedehara kazuha is, sorry,” you say, speeding past stalls and apologizing in advance for people who swerve out of your way.

but this person is determined, somehow swift enough to seize your wrist. there was a second where you forgot where you were for a moment and jerked your arm back in favor of a very, very violent self-defense— even so, this person’s grip was surprisingly strong.

he smiles when you meet his eyes. “i was looking for you, actually.”

there is no mistaking it. his face had been hard to tell in dim lighting, but even then, you could make out the soft features and the distinct twin moles illuminated by blue.

you couldn’t confuse him for someone else even if you tried. the moment you stared a little too long when he was being dragged away, you set it upon yourself for today—as if he was never unfamiliar.

“i know you,” you say, “you’re the drunk guy.”

and then it hits you harder than yelan’s kick on a good day.

this is the same guy kazuha said is a tenryou commission detective—their best one, people say, renowned for his commendable skills and intuition. you were expecting someone older, taller, who fit that description, and definitely, someone who didn’t look like…this.

“yes, that’s me,” he grins brightly. “hi.”

seeing him up close on a bright, sunny day was not the best idea. only here can you see the startlingly compelling shade of green on his eyes and the softness of his burgundy hair. only here can you realize that this man is exactly your type.

“hello,” you say pleasantly and hope you aren’t gaping.

shikanoin heizou looks around, taking in the number of people passing by. he looks back at you, and leans in close to whisper, “let’s go somewhere else.”

you follow him into a food stall, with only one person on the far edge eating. you take a seat on the two chairs laid out on the far right with him. this is starting to feel less like an interrogation and more like something you’re not willing to get into at the moment.

heizou leans against the wooden counter, announcing his order. he suggests food for you upon seeing the conflict on your face.

“you’re from liyue, right? you live in liyue?” is the first thing heizou asks, his arm still resting on the counter with his chin on his palm.

he looks enticing in the gold glow of the lanterns on both sides of the stall. you let your eyes stray, pretending you’re entranced by the ramen and not his arms. “i’m not here on any official business. i’m just here because kazuha begged me to accompany him to inazuma.”

“from what i heard, you jumped at the boat the moment kazuha offered inazuma for you.”

your brow twitches, caught. “details, details.”

the distinct scents of different foods sold in other stalls along with this fills your senses. your stomach rumbles, a gentle reminder. an embarrassing one, at that.

heizou smiles, and it’s almost sweet if you weren’t so suspicious. “my treat.”

“...shikanoin-san,” you begin, “is there a reason why you were so adamant about meeting me?”

his gaze drifts then, ears darkening. “do you remember that night we met? i dragged myself to work the next day, head pounding, my desk a mess from stumbling around it the night before. my mind was elsewhere. my peers ushered me when they caught me snea—ahem, doing patrols.”

“did they belittle you once again or something?”

“i’m pleased you still remember that.” your face burns, intently staring at the ramen the stall owner is preparing. “they told me all about how i was blabbing their ears off about someone. someone i insisted must be a youkai with how uncharacteristically enamored i was. they told me i kept asking to get myself drunk again to trace myself back to you—and i almost considered it sober.”

“that’s stupid,” you say, pretending you aren’t flustered by this.

“isn’t it?” he doesn’t look embarrassed at all. “but then i saw kazuha. we caught up, and he told me about this friend who is a stranger in inazuma; my intuition honed in on your name the moment he mentioned it.”

“and what do you know—” heizou glances at you, “—my intuition still hasn’t failed me.”

this could’ve been the moment you realized that shikanoin heizou is a dangerous, dangerous man, but really, it was on that night when he had been an ungraceful mess, letting you pin him against the tree with a gleam in his eye.

finally, food is served, and you don’t have to answer that. you can only hope that heizou won’t hone in your face the same way, and you can excuse the steam of the ramen as the culprit of its heat.

“so,” heizou begins, and you dread how it’s going, “you come here often?”

you hide a laugh. “you shouldn’t be so curious about me, for your own sake.”

“why? are you hiding something?”

he is no threat at all, you realize. you’re almost desperate, because whatever is happening right now is far from your expertise. with a glimpse of honesty: “i have no obligation to give you information about myself or my field of work. if i spill anything, the commission will never hear from you again.”

“is that so?” he looks excited.

shikanoin heizou is strange. so why are you fighting off a smile?

is it also so strange you realize his body is completely facing you? he speaks again, “well, i heard from kaedehara about a case here in inazuma that i would’ve been thrilled solving, and you were the one to bring it to a close before anyone else caught wind of it. before i caught wind of it.”

you remember that. it was practically nothing. the bandits were just unfortunate enough to do their crimes in front of your face, trained and armed for these very moments.

but where is he going with this? “i have committed no crimes myself, detective.”

“that’s not what i said,” heizou grins, resting his chin on the center of his palm. “i just want to say i appreciate you for helping in your own way. even if that meant we had to deal with interrogating dazed, thoroughly beaten-up nobushi. i want you to tell me about what went down in excruciating detail some other time.”

“you’re welcome. are you going to arrest me for interfering?”

he hums. “why do you want me to arrest you so much? want my handcuffs on you that badly?”

you’re glad you’ve already swallowed the noodles before he opened his mouth. “that’s not what i mean and you know it.”

heizou giggles, the bastard. “cute,” he murmurs as he sips on his drink, smiling to himself.

are you the one with alcohol in your system this time? because the tension is suffocating and you want him bad. “you’re too forward, shikanoin-san.”

“heizou,” he corrects. “and what’s the point in beating around the bush? we both know what i want at the end of the day. you think i meet you again and i’ll let you slip from my fingers again?”

it’s hard not to want the same. it’s itching under your fingertips, begging to be closer, to feel his laugh against your skin. “let’s pray kazuha doesn’t find out.”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” or makes things extremely awkward for him.

that night is also the same night you last see shikanoin heizou for a while. you told him about how you were leaving the next day, and getting attached would be a bad idea.

he had been hovering over you when he said, “it’s a shame, then, that it’s against my ideals to commit a crime.” you couldn’t think too hard about what he said because he distracted you quickly with a kiss, even forgetting your name for a moment.

with inazuma added to your to-do list for next year (ASAP!!! written beside it), you and the crux sail back to liyue. you were already starting to miss it, but homesickness washed over soon enough at the sight of the familiar wharf. people wave at you, saying they missed you, asking if you enjoyed your vacation.

“hey, you.”

you don’t have to look to know who it is. “yelan.” you crane your neck. “i haven’t seen you since i got back.”

“there wasn’t much you missed out on; i was dead to the world,” yelan says with a cunning smile, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “how was your trip? had fun? bring home anything good?”

you smile to yourself, “i had fun.”

“oh,” yelan smirks. “i see. what did they call it? summer fling.”

“no, nothing like that.”

she flicks your forehead. “you’re still a lousy liar as ever.”

the days pass, and it’s almost easy to forget you even went to inazuma. everything falls back into place, as routine dictated—if it weren’t for the way you keep thinking about bare sides, olive eyes, and unending playful banter.

although you weren’t slacking off, it was easy to tell that your mind was far away when you walked past couples whispering to themselves, tucked into some dark corner.

“hey, y/n! kazuha is calling for you in the wharf.”

“coming! hold on!”

the crux fleet’s grand ship looms over other boats. curiously, you note that the crew has only begun to disembark. beidou waves at you when she spots you, and you wave back with a wide smile.

she gestures at the side. you follow her gaze.

if you didn’t know who he was, you’d think—with the way he walks around and smiles at curious onlookers as if he knows them personally—that he belongs here. but you do, you do know him, madly so. he’s been in your mind for far too much that you convinced yourself he’s just a fragment of your imagination until he catches sight of you and brightens.

“y/n!” he says, enthusiastically making his way towards you.

“heizou…?” you let him tackle you into a hug, too stunned to do anything else. “wait, heizou!?” you pull away, cupping his cheeks in your palms. “what are you doing here… in—in liyue? who…”

heizou sighs, looking away despite all the confidence he’s bragged about. his face is very, very red. “it’s a long story.”

kazuha appears behind him, startling the both of you bad enough to have you freezing in sync. “he jumped at the boat the moment i offered. it was starting to get disheartening seeing the longing looks.”

he definitely knows something between you two went down.

“thanks again, kazuha, i owe you one!”

“two, heizou.”

“two,” heizou amends. “you’re the best.”

kazuha quirks a brow, amused. “flattery won’t make me lessen it, doushin shikanoin.”

“dammit,” heizou curses, smiling when you laugh.

“i’ll leave you two to it,” kazuha says, and despite all this, he looks genuinely happy. maybe because he’s rubbing on your face that he’s right—this was far from what you were agonizing over.

“ah, so you work for…the ministry of civil affairs.” heizou definitely doesn’t believe this, and he doesn’t even bother trying to hide it on his face. “the youngest, too, i heard on the way here. very good with a sword.”

“don’t underestimate me,” you instinctively say. deep inside, you’re pleased with the way your friends are giving him a good impression of you. “i do more than issue bounties on wanted criminals.”

“i knew that. though most of them don’t need to carry around a weapon as sharp as that.” you try not to react too strongly, but based on the way heizou smiles, you know that he can see straight through you. damn intuition or whatever. “and you don’t have to explain to me, i’m not underestimating you. i’m the youngest in the commission, too, you see?”

“oh…” you do remember him repeatedly mentioning how extraordinary and young he is.

“look at that,” he coos, his arms snaking around your waist, “we have so much in common already. what are you gonna do about it? shikanoin heizou, in the flesh, all for you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “is that all you think about?”

“you’re all i think about.”

you learn that it’s difficult to keep heizou’s hands away from you.

( “do you like him?”

“huh? who? shikanoin heizou? he’s annoying. the flowers in chinju forest are taller than him.”

kazuha looks thoughtful. “are they?”

“yes. they were taller than me, too, but that’s not the point.”

“and so was the answer to my question,” kazuha says, “you didn’t outright say no.”

your face burns, caught.

kazuha grins. “i’m glad to have someone accompany my every visit to inazuma from now on.” )

a/n thank u for reading!!!!! i feel like i didn't do heizou enough justice </3 but i wasn't expecting the first part to get attention at all so thank u to the people who commented and reblogged <333

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #heizou fluff #heizou x you #genshin impact x you #shikanoin heizou x you #genshin x reader #heizou fanfiction #shikanoin heizou fanfiction

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malebodyexhibit · 1 year

Text

Gives an inch, takes a mile (a free commission tale)

I nuzzled my face into my boyfriend’s chest. After his gym workout, he smelled so good. I was usually not into the smell of sweat or BO, but smelling his musk with lavender body wash was soothing as he held me in his arm. His body warmed me through my gray pullover. He knew I didn’t jock out like him. I was a bit of a geek. I preferred to stay in and play video games; but I hoped the home-cooked meals, muscle massages, and my love were enough. Yet, he posed with me in a selfie for his Facebook. He did his best to capture his good side and mine as well, but I didn’t have many good sides. Not like him. Leaning against him, I could feel his muscles and the bulge of his erection. I tried to think that it was for me, but he was still friends with his ex on Facebook. That was who the pictures were for. It was a silent competition between the two of them.

“Look at my cute boyfriend whom I snuggle with after a hard gym workout!” My boyfriend’s selfie implied. He’d take pictures of my home-cooked meals with heart emojis. Then some of us while we hung out with friends. All of this to “get back” at his ex. An emotionally manipulative asshole.

The type of asshole who posted obvious bulge pics on Facebook. He flaunted his body like it was God’s gift. He always did lewd gestures with his tongue and fingers. His photos always had him showing off his muscles, posing with other men, and partying. I tried to tell myself that my boyfriend was over him, because that dick would tease him. He would share my boyfriend’s secrets with his friends behind his back. He made my boyfriend do sexual things that made him uncomfortable. My boyfriend told me that his ex even had him wear a chastity belt to work. If he wanted it off, he’d have to beg his ex to unlock him, but his ex wouldn’t until my boyfriend submitted to him and sucked him off. This wasn’t even mentioning the times his ex cheated with other guys and gaslit my boyfriend into thinking it was his fault.

I kept think why my boyfriend had put up with it for so long. But I knew the answer.

It’s because he’s hot obviously. He had the abs, the shoulders, and the 12-inch cock that would make men put up with his shit. Someone like me had to rely on kindness and being a decent human being. I loved my boyfriend so much and wondered why he just didn’t settle down with me. If I was hot, then he would have proposed to me already. But I was just too kindhearted and unremarkable.

But I heard about a different website that could help me… It was an underground thing that was spread by word of mouth. A man walking down the street stopped me and looked me up and down. He said, “I think I got something for you.” He told me about the website and that it was built for “people like you.” The website promised to make you the “man of your lover’s dreams.” The website could make me his ex.

Well.. it did more than that. I entered my and my boyfriend’s information. It promised to turn me into someone my boyfriend loved. Someone he wanted with his whole body and mind. The next morning, I was in his ex’s body.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. I played with his light-brown hair, so fair and soft unlike my original hair. I ran my hands over my biceps, then my abs. The first time I ever had abs! His body was so sensitive and I was so turned on my the sight of me controlling his ex’s body that I felt myself getting hard. I pulled down his underwear and saw the massive cock. I understood why so many people wanted this asshole now. I stroked one out right there. My jizz sprayed over my abs and chest. He had a long reach. I dug through his laundry hamper and pulled out clothes. They smelled ripe, but I noticed he didn’t have much clean clothes.

I had access to his memories and I knew that around this time he would be at the gym. That’s when I realized my boyfriend and his ex went around the gym at the same time. In his ex’s memories, I saw that they checked each other out while they worked out. They showered just a few feet apart. The whole time his ex would tease and mock my boyfriend by showing off his body to him. Not anymore.

I headed to the gym and found my boyfriend there. We made eye contact and throughout my workout, I watched my boyfriend watching me in the body of his ex. And let me tell you, it was hard to workout with a massive erection. I kept taking breaks to find ways to hide my boner. But this body was so hot, I eventually went to the showers to finish up. Then my boyfriend came in. He tried to keep things casual, saying hi and doing his shower. But I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Babe, it’s me.” I then told my boyfriend everything that happened. How I switched bodies and how I was his ex now. My boyfriend was shocked but suddenly realized it was me when I told him I loved him. “Wouldn’t it be awesome if I stayed in this body?” I said, smiling. “You could have a sweet boyfriend and an incredibly hot one too.”

“But, I thought you hated him?” My boyfriend said. “Every time I mentioned what he did to me, you always got mad that someone treated me so badly.”

“Yes, but I know you like his body—don’t deny it. He’s pretty hot. I got to rub one out and I honestly want to see what else it can do.” I held my boyfriend and took a picture. I loved how I look and how small my boyfriend was now.

The next few weeks were awesome. I cared for my boyfriend and gave him the attention he needed. I cooked for him and let him top this hot body, something his ex would never let him do. The first time after he tried to pin me down (he’s shorter than my new body) and shot a load in my ass, he held me and told me he loved me. He asked if it was almost the right time to get married. I was excited, but kept my cool. I told him, let’s get used to the changes first. We kissed and he explored my body with his mouth.

Some of the new changes were that my boyfriend wanted me to go with him to the gym though. And I actually got into it. I hardly play video games anymore or do that geeky shit, but I love pumping iron. The guys at the gym also can’t help checking me out. My boyfriend started to get insecure, but I tried to reassure him that I loved him and wouldn’t cheat, unless he got fat. I meant it as a joke, but he took it pretty seriously. He started working out a bit more, and I loved the results actually. So sometimes I would poke his stomach just to give him a reminder. I found that my boyfriend also had trouble making me cum during sex. He tried his best to satisfy me, but I jokingly asked if he needed another guy to help. So now I top him. It’s just easier for us that way. I also noticed I was getting cocky. The past day I got sidetracked at the gym. I was chatting with these couple hotties and just having a casual flirt. I mean it’s not cheating unless I actually fuck them, right? Well, I told my boyfriend he needed to cook dinner since I was busy. He threw a big fit, so I just decided to eat some ass. The two bros I met at the gym took me back to their place and I went to town tonguing their holes and fingering them open. While I fucked one, the other jerked off and came on me. I didn’t even wash up when I got back home. I wanted my boyfriend to see he couldn’t take me for granted.

Now I don’t even care if my boyfriend goes with me to the gym as long as he is facedown on the bed when I get home so I can pound his ass. He’s so afraid that I’d leave him. I understand why his ex was so hard on him. Give him 12 inches and he tries to take a mile. You got to keep him down so he knows who the alpha is.

#male transformation #male tf #transform #male transform #transformation #nerd to jock #mental change #personality change #alpha #male body exhibit

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tamelee · 3 months

Note

pls bottom naruto is disgusting stop drawing this ooc cringe

Eh? And it hadn't even been a full day.

Anyway, do you know what this means?:

It means… that I don’t give a damn about your whiny gibberish about this top/bottom bullshit, because it sounds incredibly silly. (And wrong because I draw both?)

It’s fine to have a preference, good for you (I have one too!), but if all you care about between a character-dynamic is the single notion which establishes a rule within a fandom that demands only this particular dick in only that particular booty and nothing else, while dividing yourselves between "us and them" while seeing the people who like the same exact characters as your "enemy" and treating them as such— well,

I have nothing to say to you, I couldn’t care less what you think about me and I don’t know you.

But for the sake of other creators who are often a target also, some which I know quit because of this… there is a little something I'd like to say about these servers:

You don’t think I (we) know what is said in there and by who? 👀 That your rules of "what is said on here stays here" with a bunch of people online that you don't know, is actually respected? Why do you think I never join any. And bet your ass that I'm not the only one. This constant fighting between NS/SN is such an embarrassment for this fandom, seriously. I hope you realize that.

Because, instead of encouraging a (new) creator to share something about the characters you claim to love (for fucking free) you go off chastise them for not “doing it right”/“your way”, pretending it's some unspoken commission no one knew of or was paid for. Instead of being happy there’s still so much creative contribution for characters from a story that ended years ago, you go complain under fanfics and dishearten writers, often grinning away with your little server-“friends” and make fun of work someone poured their heart in. Or, you huff, puff and breathe fire as you make plans to cancel them out of pure bitterness, to the point (especially new) creators are too scared and dispirited to ever share anything again. It's easy to do anonymously, aye? And if you think that doesn’t affect their lives and sends them right back into a crestfallen pit of dark hell because it prevents them to do/share the single thing in life that gave them a bit of joy, then...

Congratulations; you’re a heartless bastard.

And you, as a fan, did yourself dirty too.

Do you know how many people don’t want to share anything at all for this fandom because you people leave comments, tags, asks, tweets constantly complaining about an incorrect portrayal of the (in your opinion) only acceptable dynamic, like a bunch a brats? Do you? Because I’ve talked to quite a few of these discouraged creators, they have to hope for the best and pray they’re spared from your scrutiny. I receive it from both sides every now and then.

Again, congratulations: you’re the reason there’s less chance of you getting what you want in the first place.

Do you... really not realize?

The more you squabble with "your enemy" (lol) the more it affects the "us" you care about while the rest of us just bask in the glory that is SNS/NSN and couldn't care less about what you think/have to say. So, keep everyone else out of it and go mope elsewhere.

But, between you and me? There are better ways to share what you think is right. Make something yourself, because what's stopping you?

You’re perfectly capable, it doesn’t have to be art or a fic, maybe there’s just something in the story that you really enjoyed— write about it. Make a meta. Post the panel, show the moment that determined your undying love for this single dynamic and why— whatever. Because, wouldn't it be nice having someone encourage you to create something you like? 😬 Especially because you and your server feel so strongly about it? And then you don't have to depend on others either?

Wouldn't it be nice?

Well?

Hm!?

Try it, ffs.

#asktamelee #fandom talk

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mooshywrites · 4 months

Note

Hello there, I just wanted to start off by saying how much I adore your works!

Would I be able to request the companions reacting to a drow reader who is surprisingly kind and gentle but is still treated with distrust by people? I always found it odd how none of the companions reacted to Tav being treated poorly due to being a drow, especially considering how out of there way they go for others!

Thank you so much!

A/N - I know it would probably be wayyyyy too much game data to include tons of class and race specific lines, but this one I really feel like they should’ve gone into! If anyone reads this and has free time, do some research into drow and especially driders. It’s all a fascinating world

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Masterlist

art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Wyll -

~ Wyll was suspicious of you in the beginning, as much as he hated to admit.

~ It changed when he heard how you went out of your way to save a little tiefling boy from a gaggle of harpies

~ After that, he paid a lot of attention with how different you were to the drows he had heard of

~ He asked casual questions about your background, not so subtly trying to figure you out

~ The longer he knew you, the more he took issue when people would lump you in with the drow stereotype

~ Instead of confronting people, he filled every conversation when meeting someone knew with little tales and jokes about how great you are. How the group would fall apart without your kindness in direction

~ “I wish the world would see you the way that I do.”

Karlach -

~ Karlach was one of the most non-judgmental people you knew. To the point that she was one of the first people to treat you no different to anyone else

~ It also took her a bit to see the difference in how others treated you

~ She couldn’t quite wrap her head around why people treated you like you were shifty, all she knew was sunshine and rainbows when you were around

~ It took you crying for the first time to really heat Karlach up

~ It had been a long day and a shopkeeper refused to sell you any healing potions. He thought you were going to poison them and resell them

~ All the stress of the day caught up with you as the shopkeeper yelled, tears stating to run down your face

~ Karlach ran red hot, flames jumping from her body as she got all up in the storekeepers face

~ You were able to leave with an armful of free health potions, a very warm kiss on your forehead, and a very smiley Karlach herding you back to camp

~ “Anyone ever talks to you like that again, you just come tell Mumma K”

Astarion -

~ Astarion actually had the nerve to be disappointed when he realized how sweet you were

~ Everyone in camp seemed to have such high moral standards, he was hopeful at least you would lean more towards debochary

~ The annoyance didn’t last long though, it was hard to have a frown when you were near by

~ He might’ve acted exasperated by you bringing home a new less fortunate every night, but he was all grins when you weren’t looking

~ It gave him some hope, seeing you break away what everyone thought you were

~ You had people from all angles acting like you were one step away from pillaging their home, but you never offered anything but kindness.

~ “You make me feel like I can be a good person, too.”

Lae’zel -

~ Lae’zel didn’t see much point in being overly kind, so you mostly just confused her in the beginning

~ She couldn’t understand why you wouldn’t just go along with the stereotypes. It would probably be easier in the long run

~ What she couldn’t understand even more, though, is why she felt anger every time someone spoke down to you

~ Often times, she’d have quite the strong words for whoever was insulting you

~ The days she were also the nights she spent trying to convince you to act meaner

~ She was convinced it was the only way you could make it through the journey without being attacked from every side

~ You simply shook your head and told her you’d always choose the gentle path

~ “Chhk. Fine. I will be mean enough for the both of us.”

Halsin -

~ Halsin was much too old to believe in most stereotypes. But even you surprised him

~ He often watched you in the evenings, watched how you interacted with the various critters you brought home

~ You were so gentle and attentive, you didn’t even know ‘Speak Animals’ but you understood them completely

~ It warmed his heart to see how nature and all it’s charges reacted to you, it genuinely seemed that even the birds were attracted to your presence

~ He couldn’t even take people seriously when they spoke down to you

~ Their opinions were meaningless to him because he just couldn’t imagine you being anything other than lovely

~ Instead of arguing, he’d shower you in compliments afterwards, always making sure to patch up any piece of your insecurity that they had left

~ “They may not know it, but I and nature can see what a blessing you are to the world.”

Shadowheart -

~ Shadowheart was annoyed with how quickly she came to love and trust you

~ Something about your smiles and attitude were absolutely infectious, and she wondered how you kept it up when everyone thought you to be evil

~ She was even more impressed with how you brushed off naysayers comments

~ She’d tease you pretty often, she was the one who started calling you “The Gentle Drow”

~ As much as she affectionately tease you, she absolutely hated when people tried teasing you back

~ Even if it was good natured, or even coming from a companion, the tease was met with a very harsh glare from Shadowheart

~ She would outright shush people you didn’t know if they tried to insult you. Usually people dropped their jaw at the interaction

~ “Speak ill of my friend again, and I’ll relieve you of the use of your tongue.”

Gale -

~ Gale was absolutely fascinated with you

~ He didn’t really have an expectation of you being horrible, but he found it interesting that ‘The Hero of Farun’ was such a gentle and shy clutz

~ He often spoke to you as if he was talking to a science project, trying to get to the bottom of what made you so kind

~ He was thankful you were, it reminded him about how much people could decide for themselves

~ It surprised him when people insulted you, he was mostly shocked people had the gall to say things to your face

~ He was even more taken aback when, every time, you let the comments go, offering only kindness in return

~ Gale quite enjoyed walking around in public with you, almost cataloging how you interacted with people

~ Anytime you looked particularly weary from the constant abuse, he never failed to offer a joke

~ Once, a kid ran past, pointing at you and yelling that you were here to pillage the town

~ Gale simply picked up the edge of your scarf and put on a stoic face

~ “Not to worry, citizen. My drow is on a tight leash.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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greynatomy · 11 months

Text

A Chance

Lexie Grey x Fem!Reader

My first grey’s anatomy imagine! Decided to write a fic on what inspired my name.

If you have any requests/ fix ideas you want me to write, take a look at my commissions page on ko-fi. You can find it on my Masterlist pinned to the top of my page!

Let me know what you think!

-grey

masterlist

———

Throughout Lexie’s intern year, Mark and Lexie have been dancing around their romantic feelings to each other.

… Or so everyone thought.

Derek and Meredith got so fed up in the two that they decided that they would take matters into their own hands.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?”

Mark looks up from his tablet at the nurse’s station. “What?”

“You give her all these looks and won’t even ask her out.”

“She doesn’t feel the same way.”

“I call bullshit. She gives you the same looks.”

“Really?” Mark looks at him, intrigued.

“Yes, so ask her out sometime soon.”

After a few seconds of thinking, “Help me plan the perfect date.”

———

At the cafeteria, Meredith sees Lexie sitting at a table on her own eating her lunch. She observes her sister for a bit, seeing her smiling very big at her phone, making her wonder what was it that is making her so happy. She swiftly walks to her sister and sits down on the unoccupied chair.

“Uh, hi?” Lexie confusedly looks at Meredith.

“When are you gonna stop ignoring your feelings from Mark?”

After hearing those worlds, Lexie chokes on whatever she was drinking. Caught completely off guard to what her sister just said.

“I do not have feelings for Mark! What made you think that?”

“Oh, yeah? Come on! You give each other these looks that screams that you want to drag each other in an on call room.”

Wide-eyed, Lexie couldn’t even think of what to say.

“Look. I don’t know how to came to that conclusion, but I can assure you I don’t have these feelings that you’re saying I have. I’ve never even thought about him that way.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Nope!”

“Well, why not? Mark is totally in love with you.”

“Until he says that, I won’t believe him. But if he did I would reject his advances because that would make me unfaithful.”

With that, Lexie walks away.

“Unfaithful?” Meredith asks herself.

———

It’s now a few days after. The workday was done for Lexie. She was ready to just go home and sleep the night away until she has to come back to work, don’t knowing of a surprise coming her way. Or multiple surprises.

As she’s walking out to the exit of the hospital, she hears quick footsteps behind her.

“Hey, Lexi.”

“Hi, Mark. What’s up?”

“Uh, well, I was just wondering if you have some time after work tomorrow? For some dinner.”

“Like a date?”

“Yes.” He replied confidently.

Not far away, Meredith and Derek are watching the interaction.

“She’s definitely going to say yes.” Derek stated with a smile.

Meredith looks at him sheepishly. “IforgottotellyouthatwhenItalkedtoLexieshesaidthatshewouldturnMarkdownbecauseshedoesn’tseehimanywayromanticatall.” She said very quickly all in one breath.

“Say that agin, but slower.”

“I forgot to tell you that when I talked to Lexie she said that she would turn Mark down because she doesn’t see him any way romantic at all.”

“What?! Why didn’t you tell me.”

“I don’t know! I didn’t believe her, but I should’ve believed her cause she said something about feeling the same way would make her unfaithful.”

“So, she’s in a relationship?”

“I think so.”

“So, Marks gonna get his heart broken?”

“Probably.”

Back with Mark and Lexie, Lexie is speechless while Mark looks hopeful.

“Look, Mark.” She pauses, trying to find the right words. “I am flattered, but I don’t feel anything romantic towards you.”

“What? But Derek said that we look each other the same.”

“Well he was probably seeing things cause I don’t look at you any other way but friendly.”

“Can’t you just give me a chance. Just one date and after you can tell me to stop if you still don’t feel the same.”

“I can’t. Besides…” Lexie looks away, which happens to be over by the door. At that moment she sees someone walk in holding a bouquet of flowers, wearing an army uniform, taking the beret off their head. Lexi becomes wide-eyed, not believing who she’s seeing.

At the same time, the person looks up, meeting Lexie’s eyes. Her eyes light up, holding up the bouquet of flowers. Lexie completely forgets about Mark and runs past him, jumping into the arms of this woman.

“Oh my god! How are you here? I thought I wouldn’t see you until next week?” She said into his neck, arms clinging onto her.

“I lied.” She said, chuckling into her hair. “Wanted to surprise you.”

Meredith and Derek took this time to walk up to Mark who had a confused and hurt expression on her face as Lexie pushed past him, essentially forgetting about their conversation.

“What just happened?” Meredith was the one to break the silence.

“I have no clue.”

“I asked her to give me a chance at on date to see if her mind changes, but she said no.”

“That’s probably the person she’s in a relationship with then.”

“She’s in a relationship and you didn’t tell me?” Mark asked Derek, hurt.

“I didn’t know until a couple minutes ago. Meredith knew, but didn’t believe her.”

“Even if she’s in a relationship, I usually still get the girl.” Derek looks at him with a face that says ‘really.’ “Right… sorry.”

A few more moments of watching the two embrace, Mark clears his throat cause the two to break apart and look at the others.

“Oh, yeah. Come here.” Lexie says, grabbing the woman’s hand, pulling her towards the group. “These are my friends Mark, Derek, and Meredith.”

“Meredith, your sister?”

“That’s the one.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you all.”

“How do you know Lexie?” Marks straightforwardly asks.

“Uh, well we met in high school actually. Sophomore year, specifically.”

“So, been friends ever since.”

“Best friends. She’s actually my ex-girlfriend.”

“You guys dated?” Mark asks, at the same time Lexie says, “You need to stop calling me your ex-girlfriend.”

You look at her with a smirk. “It’s true though.”

“I’m confused.” Derek speaks up.

“She always introduces or calls me her ex-girlfriend whenever we meet new people.”

“I’m still confused.”

“We’re married, but she technically is my ex-girlfriend because now she’s my wife. And that makes us in-laws.” You clarify, looking towards Derek and Meredith.

As the in-laws converse, Mark is stuck in his own head, reeling back to all the times Lexie could’ve reciprocated his same feelings, but now that he really thought about it, she never showed any signs of it.

“Well, we should go. I’m exhausted and I’m sure this one is too.” Lexie said, the whole day of work finally getting to her. “And Mark. I hope you find someone that is right for you.” With that, she grabs your hand and intertwines it with yours, pulling you to her car.

You both walk away, oblivious to the three staring at your retreating figures.

“We all didn’t read the situation correctly, I guess.” Meredith speaks up, still staring at her sister and husband.

“Don’t worry Mark, you’ll find someone.” Derek pats Mark on the shoulder. They both leave him, walking away, holding onto each other.

Mark is still staring at the both of you, seeing you pick Lexie up bridal style, her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you into a kiss, smiling at each other as you pull away.

Still wishing that Lexie was his to love, Mark is content that she’s happy and loved, even it it’s not with him.

#grey’s anatomy x reader #grey’s anatomy #grey’s anatomy imagine #grey’s abc #lexie grey x reader #lexie grey #lexie grey imagine #meredith grey #derek shepherd #mark sloan #merder

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mossy-opal · 1 year

Text

Sweet Spot

Sugar Baby Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of a Bar, Mentions of Black Mail (against heroes), Mentions of Cheating (nothing explicit), Mentions of Drug Use (a hero using, nothing explicit), Mentions of Murder, Nefarious Plotting, Mentions of Smut, Prostitution (he's a sugar baby, you know what you're reading), Smut For Real

Villains were shifty in many ways, Tomura was taught that by his master for a long time. Villains had a large underground society, his master showing him everything he had at his disposal, so long as everything went according to plan.

But when his master was taken into custody, that was certainly not according to plan, he and his comrades were left with nothing. Not even Giran could help their lack of funds, the only thing they could do was rob small convenience stores. Even that was getting more difficult to do, with the presence of police and heroes increasing in areas they frequented. The yakuza wasn't the safest option for them, they were running out of supplies, tensions were running high.

Giran introduced him to something he could do for money, a small side gig to make a few extra bucks. After all, the villain world was vast, and Tomura was desperate.

“No, this has to be a scam-”

“It’s not. Old bitty’s are desperate for a young man nowadays, and they’re discreet-”

“I don’t give a shit.” He hissed, “It’s a safety risk, especially now.”

“I know, but it’s an option…”

Giran handed him the new phone, and he saw the site was exactly what he said. Discreet. No names, no pictures. He looked through reviews of some of the clients, how they complimented the work ethic and how easy it was to get a hold of some people. With the Yakuza deal being an issue, 'Overhaul' being a risky 'ally', this option seemed… Do-able.

So, he made an account. His first few clients were too scared of him, they expected him to be someone different, maybe someone lesser-known, or someone easier to talk to, but they got him instead.

He didn’t expect much, he was never one to be looked at as if he was… Attractive. Did he have high expectations of getting lucky with any of these women? Not particularly. Some of them were too old, just in need of someone to talk to. Their husbands cheated on them and they wanted to get back at ‘em, but never followed through. The younger women who asked for his services were shocked it was him, and if he did get to go all the way with them, they usually told him to go from behind, turn off the lights, don’t mind them if they moan someone else's name, don’t take all of his clothes off.

It only bugged him slightly a lot, but it made the league money.

He used that money to feed his league, good foods aside from junk, get them clothes they’d need, get Toga her feminine things, and so on. It was useful, he could easily lie about the money coming from Giran, and no one would ever ask him where he went.

He couldn’t imagine the humiliation he’d endure if they found him making his way to love hotels at least once a week. Sure it was dingy and gross, but he didn’t pay for it, and he got paid for it, so he couldn't complain. It wasn’t just women who’d buy his services either, he’d get men too. Due to the vague website and the lack of names, not many men would expect the leader of the League of Villains, but for enough money, Tomura followed the terms of his contract and swore to be quiet about it. Sometimes it was lawmakers he’d fuck with, sometimes people from the Commission, sometimes it was even low-ranking heroes he’d get to fuck. It didn’t matter to him, all that mattered was the money, and it got him plenty of black mail material too, but they didn’t need to know about that. Sometimes he’d be security for rich families in the underground, security for people at parties.

It didn’t matter.

He’d do what he needed to.

So when his next client refused to meet him at a love hotel, he got irritated.

When they refused to meet him at a bar, he got mad.

When they insisted on meeting at a cat cafe, he wanted to drop the client entirely.

This had to be a fucking joke.

But, he kept reminding himself it was for the money. It was for the league. The pay the client offered was something he couldn’t refuse.

The cat cafe was a late running one, so when he showed up and the sun was down, he was slightly surprised it was still open. Walking in, he saw someone wave at him. He looked around, pointing to himself, and you nodded. He shuffled through the cafe slowly, sure to keep his eyes on the floor beneath him, as to not step on any cats.

When he got to your table, you offered your hand.

“Pleasure to re-meet you, you remember me, right?”

He didn’t take your hand, sitting down with a huff.

“Remember you from what?”

“College of course.” You said it with a wink, and he caught on, nodding.

“Sure, remember our computer class… Why’d you reach out?”

You smiled, “I heard you do repairs now, you have great reviews.”

He hummed, this was certainly new.

“Hm, where’d you hear that from?”

You pulled out your phone, showing him a picture of a hero, and smiled.

“My friend told me all about you, said you’d get rid of any problems, real quick too!”

He smirked beneath his face mask, looking at you with sharp eyes.

“Sure I can… What’s the issue?”

Your wicked smile made him feel something, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he liked it.

“Just a bug in my software, I’m pretty sure it’s not a virus, but it’s a real pain…”

Tomura hummed, keeping his eye on your phone screen. He’d seen the hero before, knew he was a small time guy, pretty sure he’d fucked him too. He was sure to memorise his face, trying to make out what he looked like behind the mask, before he looked up at you. You were looking at the menu currently, your eyes scanning the words. You were pretty, and young. He wondered…

“How’d you get the 'virus'…?”

He asked, and you looked at him with a smile, “Aah, my friend borrowed someone else's computer and transferred some files to mine, and well, the files weren’t secure. Go figure, amiright?” You said with a smile, but you looked irritated behind the smile.

The bastard cheated, and on you of all people. Why would he go and do that? Probably fucked a fan...

Tomura huffed, he hated people like that and nodded.

“Any issues with your computer aside from the virus?”

“Thankfully no, I’m always sure to use protection, 'specially if I can't trust my buddies to keep it to themselves. VPNs, y’know~?” You said with a wink, making him actually chuckle.

Despite the small crime of “using someone else's computer”, Tomura wanted more information.

“I can get rid of it, but I wanna know… Any other issues?”

You smirked, shrugging. “Plenty, what do you want to know?”

“All of them…”

That was how you two met. You worked for the Commission as a paper pusher, "Damage Control" you called it, just running documents to and from different agencies, only making copies of classified information every now and then, when a hero assaulted someone, when a hero slipped up with drugs, when a sidekick got caught with a hero twice their age, so and and so forth. You were a beautiful well of knowledge, and you paid him for it, how funny was that?

You were smart to use code when talking to him, smart enough to cover your tracks with several different firewalls and VPNs, smart to keep your name hidden from him, only ever using aliases.

He knew you knew who he was, and as far as he could tell, you didn’t give a shit.

You were perfect for him, and he was certain to keep everything he did with you under wraps. Sometimes the information you’d slip to him would get to news stations, who would've guessed? It’d even sometimes end up in the hands of the police, how it got there, no one knew.

It was a dance he had with you, making the right moves got him anything he wanted, and you were happy to oblige in any way you could.

One day, you asked for his services once more, but you invited him to a bar. It was different, usually you asked him to meet you at places that were cute, unsuspecting, with low security and no cameras. But never a bar, much less an underground bar.

But, he was getting paid, so he wouldn’t complain.

Getting there was easy, getting in was even easier, and finding you was a piece of cake. You had two drinks in front of you, and when you turned to see him you smiled a genuine smile.

“Heeey, nice to see you death’s-head~!”

You’d always give him moth related nicknames, he suspected you just really liked moths.

“Why are we here of all places?”

You shrugged, “I haven’t had any issues at work lately, but I kinda like spending time with you, figured we could just hang out?”

He felt his face heat up with that, sitting on the stool next to you. “Not really my thing…”

You clicked your tongue with a coo, “Yeeeaah, but you’ve been busy lately, kinda wanted to let you chill out for a minute, y’know?”

Tomura shrugged, moving his mask to take a drink, keeping his head down. Even amongst other unsavoury types, he still wasn’t safe.

“I don’t really have that kind of luxury, you should know that…”

You hummed, sipping your own drink slowly.

“Yeah… But hey, at least now we can talk freely, yeah?”

“Tch, wouldn’t do that around here…”

You shook your head, “Not an issue, I know the owner of the place, he’s an old friend.”

Tomura chuckled, “Friend from college?”

You smirked, “Something like that~”

With that, the two of you just talked that evening. You kept paying for drinks and even some food, introduced him to the owner of the bar, it was a kind old man you called gramps, and he even got to know the old man. You two never exchanged your real names, only telling each other about interests and passions, you didn’t have a quirk and wanted to be a doctor, but ended up being a secretary of sorts. “Whatever pays the bills”, you said, and that really resonated with him. He couldn’t tell you much, but you didn’t press for information.

You never did.

The two of you started to hang out a lot more, without payment. You invited him to what he assumed to be your apartment, since it was filled with things that you would like. Cute plushies, horror movie posters, pictures of yourself with friends, moths and butterflies littered the walls in shadow-boxes. It was certainly your home. He felt special to be trusted like this, he was sure to keep you a secret.

He wanted to have at least a little bit of a normal life with you.

You paid him to take information and kill off small time shit heroes, hung out with him on your days off and weekends, offered him a couch to sleep on when he wanted.

He considered you a friend and an ally, even if he didn’t know your name.

One day while he was hanging out in your living room, fucking with your game scores, he heared the door slam shut and you run to your room, slamming that door too.

He didn’t like that.

Carefully making his way to your door, he heard you talking to yourself, throwing things and screaming into pillows. Tomura opened the door slowly, only to be hit in the face with a small plushie, hearing you gasp immediately afterwards.

“P-pepper- fuck I’m sorry I-”

“Why are you so upset?”

You blinked, wiping away your angry tears and shaking your head, “Stupid reason…”

He picked up the plushy and walked into your room, tossing it on your bed before sitting next to you.

“Only stupid if you don’t tell me ‘bout it.”

You sighed, shaking your head again, "Just- a lot of little things, y'know? I made a mess of my breakfast this morning, I got a message from an old ex about how he 'misses me', crock of shit if you ask me- I missed my usual train so I was almost late to work, I couldn't get coffee until lunch and then I spilled my coffee! It's stupid but- Ugh…. The last straw was when my coat got hooked on the door on my way up…"

You laughed, putting your head in your hands. "Everything's just too much right now…"

Tomura nods, listening all the while. He felt something during this, he felt good to know you trusted him like this, ranting to him about these issues. They may have been meaningless, but they bothered you, and upset you, so they mattered to him.

He snorted, "What ex? Thought you don't date anymore."

"Yeah, since that last hero I haven't been doing anything with anyone, been too damn busy… This guy was from my last job, caught him texting someone else and left him. Why, you gonna get him back for it?"

Tomura shrugs as you lay down with a sigh. He lays down next to you, "Maybe, maybe not. Only if he bugs you again, 'kay?"

You chuckle, "Sure thing…"

You two laid like that for a moment, your breathing slowed as your heartrate did, and you let out a nice long breath.

"Tomura…"

He jolted up at the mention of his real name, looking down at you sharply, getting away from you quickly. Why did you say his name? What did you want? Were you bugged? Was he really safe here?

"Hey hey, easy now…" You sat up and put your arms out, "No need to freak out I just…. When we're like this, can't we use our names?"

"No, you might be-"

"Bugged? What, you think I wouldn't notice a whole feather from Hawks? A chip from the Commission? Come on, Tomura, I'm smarter than that…"

He stayed silent, not wanting to say anything else until you sighed, making a move to shut off your phone completely before you started taking it apart. He could see all the components, the battery… Nothing was out of the ordinary.

You told him your full name as you put your phone together, you explained you had access to the cameras attached to your building and would always alter the footage to show a loop of your hallway. You had a routine anyway, so it wasn't out of the ordinary if someone looked at it casually. You explained you checked every document you ever got, you never took your work bag further past your door, and you never used the laptop they gave you at home, anyway. You sat back on your bed with a small smile.

"Are you at ease now, Tomura…?"

He let out a breath and nodded, but he was still confused.

"Why now…?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you want to use my name now? Why give me yours?"

You shrugged, "Well I mean… You sleep on my couch, I don't really see why I can't trust you with my name. It's not like I didn't know who you were or what we were doing, and it's not like we're working now anyway. So…"

Tomura sighed, shrugging. "Sure, I guess…"

With that out of the way, you giggled, and that made him snap to look at you. "What?"

"Well I mean… I was just thinking… About the site we met on…"

He felt his face flush as he started walking out of your room, "What about it?"

You followed him out of your room, "Well I see that it's usually used for… Heheh, other things…"

"Like what?"

"Did you get paid to have sex with anyone~?"

He rolled his eyes as he started playing your games again, "Can't say, contracts and all that, you get it…"

"Oh please, as if either one of us cares about 'security', so spill it! Any old women? Men?"

Tomura smirked with a nod, "You're not my first Commission client~"

You feigned offence, "Ah! I'm hurt~!"

You laughed, and he chuckled at the normalcy being regained once again. He told you about all of his clients and the different things he'd done for them, and even told you about the heroes he'd been hired by too. Those stories made your night even better, because you had worked as damage control for the heroes that Tomura Shigaraki had previously had sex with! You were delighted with the new information, and even happier he had gotten some pictures too.

You really were a dream come true, and now he knew your name, too.

•

Things got busy for a little while, and Tomura hadn't been able to take clients, or even visit you. He was fighting for his vision after all, and with the information he had, he had plenty of fuel for his fire. He couldn't help but wonder though, what were you up to these days? Had you gotten back at that ex without his help? Were you still busy with work? Were you still living in that apartment?

…

Were you worried about him, too?

Of course you were. You couldn't reach out to look for him, that'd be far too dangerous. You could get hurt, arrested, the possibilities were endless with what could go wrong. But you were worried sick for him, especially after the news broadcasted the links heroes had found to the League of Villains after the raid on the Yakuza, and the attack on that Chisaki guy, you were scared. Not for your safety, but for his.

You couldn't tell him, Tomura would probably freak out if you told him how much you really cared. Hell, you were freaking out yourself, every time you had a relationship it always ended with them… Finding someone different. It always landed back with you looking at yourself in the mirror with doubt.

You knew, logically, it wasn't you who was the weak link in the relationships, but with how often it happened, you couldn't help but think… What if it was you?

What if Tomura didn't reach out until you paid him? What if he only reached out because you paid him? What if he wanted something more from you? What if- Your thoughts were cut short with a knock on your door, and you carefully made your way over.

Tomura had never knocked before.

You peaked through the peep-hole and felt your heart swell, quickly opening the door and pulling him inside, pulling him into a tight hug.

It was Tomura.

He was shocked at the response, unable to pull down his hood or take off his face mask because of your viper-like grip on him. Soon you let him go, immediately throwing questions at him.

"What the hell were you thinking!? Taking his arms!? Don't get me wrong the bastard deserved it- But what if you were caught!? You haven't talked to me in like a month- I thought you got caught by police or a hero or you died or something! You had me so worried-!"

"You were worried…?"

Your questioning stopped as you huffed, pushing some hair out of your face.

"Of course I was…"

He was shocked, as were you. You thought he'd know you were worried, but clearly not. What, had he never been fretted over before?

"Tomura-?"

He cut you off by grabbing your face, pulling you against him with a kiss. You huffed into the kiss and moaned into him, gripping his coat while pulling him against you. He kept his hold on your face, letting your weight push him against your door as you kissed him back.

Oh fuck, you kissed him back. You kept kissing him when his eyes shot open to look at you. You. You worried about him, you cared about him, you worked with him, you- You kissed him back! You were kissing him, and feeling him up too, before you pulled away.

"Ha- Is everything okay…?"

He blinked, letting your face go as he nodded, "Uh- y-yeah…"

You smiled at him, "You stopped kissing me~"

"I-I… I-uh… Y-you…"

"Tomura… You don't have t-"

"No I want to I just…. This doesn't normally happen…"

You laughed softly again, "You've told me, but those hags don't know what they passed up…"

You kissed him gently again, "You're smart…"

You kissed him again, kissing his cheek and his jaw, "You're handsome…"

You kissed his neck, gently nipping him, "And you're definitely my type~"

He chuckled at that, groaning at the feeling of your kisses, and letting you take his coat off of him, letting it fall to the floor. His hands found your hips, gripping them tightly while you paid attention to his neck. He pressed his knee between your legs, pulling your hips against his, relishing in your whine.

"Ha… W-we should- fuckin' move~"

He said with another huff, gently pushing you away. You whined impatiently but nodded, taking his hand and leading him to your room. When you got there you didn't even bother closing the door before ditching your shirt, Tomura following in your footsteps, undoing his belt while you shimmied out of your pants. He didn't get to lose his pants when you pulled him over to you, kissing him again, your bare chests pressed against one another. Tomura moaned into your mouth, pushing you by your hips onto your bed. You both seperated with a small laugh, pushing your plushies off the bed.

He never thought he'd see this.

He never thought at the beginning of this that he'd ever meet someone like you. You looked at him with a smile, you cared about him, you helped him and supported his desires. He wanted to relish this.

You were admiring him too, his handsome face, his beautiful eyes and pretty hair. You pushed some of his hair behind his ear as you held his face. You didn't look away from him, didn't tell him to turn off the light, didn't tell him to turn you around. You wanted him, entirely, unabashedly.

He didn't wait any longer, kissing you again, pulling your legs apart to press himself against you comfortably. You wrapped your arms around him again as he grinded against you. You shuddered at the feeling, your arms moving from his shoulders to his hips, pushing his pants down his legs. He smirked against you before he stood, taking his pants off entirely. You moved up on your bed, before whistling at Tomura, getting his attention. He looked at you, and felt his breath hitch at the sight. You pulled your panties to the side to show him how wet you were, wet for him. He quickly shoved his boxers down and damn near pounced on you pressing himself against you, before pushing himself in, selfishly.

You moaned sharply, laughing breathlessly, "T-Tomuraa… C-careful~!"

He huffed at the feeling of you- moaning at how fucking good you felt for him. He couldn't stop now- Couldn't hold himself back anymore. His hips slammed into yours over and over again, fucking you like he wanted. Your moaning spurred him on, the squelching of your sopping heat making him groan and whine above you as he looked down at where he pressed himself into you. His eyes kept looking from you to what you were currently moaning over. His smile was almost unhinged as he gripped your hips tight, ploughing into you faster than you'd ever felt.

The look on his face alone made your heart swell as you gripped his shoulder and your sheets. You clawed into his back as your head rolled back, moaning his name over and over again. Your previous partners never seemed this desperate for you, never felt this close to you, never felt like they-

Your eyes shot open as you moaned out as you came with him, feeling him shoot into you deep, making you shudder at the feeling of being so full.

"Ha-Haaa… T-Tomura you-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence, as he pulled you over the edge of the bed, pressing your face into the covers.

"I'm not done with you yet."

Tags: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @dabispreciouslittlebean @the-milk-anon @shockinglysubmissive @kelin-is-writing @elias-fable @mothiopal

Did I say this evening? I meant when I was done. Enjoy~

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #tomura shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura x reader smut #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #mha tomura #mha shigaraki #mha smut

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gurugirl · 8 months

Text

Just For Tonight | Ch. 2

Series Summary: Harry spots an angel in the crowd and he can't keep his eyes off of her. And, as if by some cosmic pull, he can't help but ask her backstage. But it's only going to be just for tonight. Or is it?

Chapter Summary: Y/n's pretty sure she'll never see or hear from Harry again. They had a fun night but he made it clear that it was only just the once. Except Harry can't seem to follow his own rules.

Warning: 18+ only, smut

Word Count: 10,501

Commissioned by anon (thank you!! xoxo)

Just For Tonight Masterlist

Having a night with Harry Styles was like having one of those hot-girl secrets that only the most privileged were in on. But what that also meant was that she couldn’t really go talking all about it to everyone either.

She would have loved to have posted on Instagram all about it. Bragged about having seen his cock and then having it inside of her. She would have loved to have seen Dyna’s face when she told her that Harry Styles had eaten her out and spanked her. Dyna was one of those acquaintances in her friend group who was smug and pretty but rude. Thought her shit didn’t stink.

And well, she never would tell anyway. Not only would she never brag about what she’d done with someone during sex, but she wouldn’t want to betray anyone that way.

But it was kind of a bummer that she couldn’t talk about it all. Ady drilled her for information and Y/n had already decided that she’d only spill the details to her best friend, whom she could actually trust. Ady was a work friend at best. She trusted Ady, but not with that kind of secret.

All Ady knew was that Y/n had spent the night with Harry Styles. And when she arrived at the office on Monday morning, half of her co-workers had already heard about it.

“That’s why I didn’t give you details, Ady. You shouldn’t be saying anything to anyone.” Y/n replied as she bit into her sandwich. Ady was trying to extract more information from her.

“But I would never tell anyone those details, Y/n! Come on. Just give me something. Any tattoos we don’t know about? Is his dick as big as everyone thinks it is?”

Y/n rolled her eyes and stood up from her chair, tossing the crust of her sandwich into the garbage, and completely ignoring Ady on her way back to her desk.

After a few days, the gossip had died down and Ady had pretty much given up. Y/n was glad everyone had stopped talking about it and asking her uncomfortable questions.

And while on the outside it had appeared Y/n had moved on completely, on the inside she couldn’t stop replaying the night with Harry over and over again.

Especially when she was alone in her bedroom at night.

Y/n had a housemate. She lived in a two-bedroom bungalow with a microscopic backyard, street parking, and the tiniest closet known to man. And still, she could barely afford to make rent each month. But Brad was nice. And he allowed her to pay a little late sometimes. She didn’t often pay late. Maybe a handful of times over the year.

But it also helped that Brad had a bit of a crush on Y/n. She didn’t want to be that person but it came in handy in this case.

“I’m so sorry. I get paid next Friday and I’ll pay you first thing. Just didn’t keep track of my spending again this month.” It was slightly embarrassing. She wasn’t careless about how she spent her money but that month she had the Harry Styles concert, bought a hotel room (which she didn’t even sleep in), and spent a little extra on her cute new bodysuit. She had saved up her money but overspent just a tiny bit. Okay so maybe she was a little careless with her money at times. And she was getting too old to keep living paycheck to paycheck. It was time to start putting money away.

And she couldn’t do that with her current job and all the bills she had on top of that.

Y/n was going to have to find a second job. Anything so she could get her footing and pay off some loans, and then maybe she could breathe a little.

“No worries, Y/n. I’m good for it until then.” Brad smiled. She could tell he was getting tired of it, though. And for that alone, the embarrassment of having to ask if he could cover her part for a handful of days and to see his expression of pity and probably a little bit of annoyance, yeah. It was time to find a second job.

Her cousin was the floor manager at a posh, expensive restaurant downtown that Y/n would have never dreamed of stepping foot into. Not normally anyway. But there was a job opening for a server spot that her cousin had casually mentioned a week prior. She didn’t know if the position had been filled or not and if they would give her that prime weekend shift but there was only one way to find out.

“Y/n! Hi! How are you?” Laren answered chipper and sweet.

“Hi. Uh… good! How are you?”

Small talk commenced before Y/n finally got into the nitty gritty of why she was calling.

“Oh? The server position? It hasn’t been filled actually. We’ve been interviewing, though. You should come in and apply. I can put in a good word.”

The position was for two weekday nights and rotating a Sunday and Saturday every other week with a draw for the occasional Friday night (the coveted night to serve apparently). It wasn’t ideal but she figured she’d at least apply and see what happened.

Y/n had been a server in college so she was familiar with the work. It was hard, stressful at times, but tips could be good with the right tables.

And part of her didn’t want to waitress again. She was already working 40 hours at her office job. This would leave her with very little free time. But she needed to do something because every time she thought about how she was late on rent again it made her cringe and flush hot with embarrassment.

The interview process was fairly painless. And the fact that her cousin already worked there seemed to be in her favor because the very next afternoon she was getting a call to come back in to begin training. She’d gotten the position.

And it was just as hard as she imagined it would be. Shadowing one of the servers felt strange. She started on a Tuesday night since it would be a relatively slow night. Rushing from her office job to get home, changing into her uniform, and then racing through heavy traffic to get to the restaurant gave her a good idea of how it would be for her on the nights she worked during the weekdays.

Her past experience was a blessing. She only needed to shadow for two weeks before they started letting her have her own tables. Everyone on staff was easy to get along with on some level.

She did learn, though, that Vyra was upset that they were letting her take a weekend night shift so early on. Vyra was also a server who’d been at The Dulcería for a couple of years and wasn’t allowed weekend shifts until she’d been serving for a while.

“Tell them I’ll take your ten top tonight. I don’t think you’re quite ready for the level of service you’ll need to provide.” Vyra placed her tray down and faced Y/n as she spoke.

Y/n had just arrived at the restaurant for her first weekend evening shift by herself. She didn’t even know she had a ten top as she’d only just walked into the door.

“I… okay, well, let me at least put my stuff down. I’ll talk to Mannie and find out what he wants before I ask for that.” She was already annoyed. Not ready for the level of service… Just for that comment alone, Y/n was going to make sure she kept the table and was the best damn waitress that ten top could ever have that night.

“I’m telling you that it’s going to be better for you to just give me the table. We’ll switch off. They’re gonna be here all night.”

Y/n put her purse in the locker and turned to look at Vyra, “How do you know they’re gonna be here all night?”

“Because the reservation was very specific about how long they would be here. Probably someone famous honestly. Just tell Mannie you’re giving me your section.”

Sighing as she clicked the lock into place and tied her apron around her waist she shook her head, “We’ll see.”

Y/n checked the schedule for the night and realized, the only table that she was assigned was the ten top Vyra had mentioned. Which was interesting. Looking at the name on the reservation it didn’t ring any bells for her as to who could be in the party that would require her to stay with them all night but she knew she could take care of the table on her own. Even if they were famous and picky and maybe demanding. There were only ten of them. And it was her only table.

After the first two guests had arrived and were brought to the table by the hostess, Mannie signaled to her to greet them at the table and get some drinks started.

“You didn’t tell Mannie to let me take over. You didn’t even ask. I think it’s in your best int–“

“I’ve got it, Vrya. I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. Really,” she spoke as she neared the private area of the dining room where her table was.

“No. I don’t think you understand, Y/n. You’re new at this–“

Y/n stopped abruptly and Vrya nearly ran into her, “Stop. I’ve waited tables before. And Mannie wanted me to have this one. Just… go back to your tables and give it a rest.”

The pair at the table were dressed extremely casually, which was unusual for the restaurant. Most people entering the doors of The Dulcería wore designer and dressed appropriately in smart casual.

“Hi. I’m Y/n. I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Would you like me to get you started with anything? Wine for the table or appetizers for when everyone else starts to arrive?”

The young woman at the table ordered three bottles of wine to start and a handful of appetizers. Easy enough.

When Y/n returned to the private area with a cart full of wine and water she stopped in her tracks. More of the party had arrived but now she recognized two of them. She blinked her eyes and swallowed as she felt her heart rate pick up before pushing the cart forward again and closer to the table. She could be seeing things, she told herself.

As she neared the party she honed in on the man with his back to her with chocolate brown curls and broad shoulders. Was this…? It couldn’t be.

And yet she was sure it was. Based on the fact that she was looking right at Jeff Azoff and his adorable wife Glenne… She gulped as she parked the cart at the edge of the room and plucked up one of the bottles of red wine to uncork.

Carrying the bottle and a glass of wine toward the young woman who ordered it, she was suddenly aware that all eyes were on her as she turned the label side out toward her. But before she could pour a taste sample the young woman pointed at the man with his brown curls at the other end of the table, “It’s his to taste.”

She let out a quick breath to ground herself and closed her eyes for only a moment before turning to see those bright green eyes already on her. The big grin on his face told her he recognized her immediately. Of course he did.

She smiled, taking a step back, and slowly walked toward Harry to give him the first taste of the wine.

Pouring the liquid into the glass slowly as she stood to his left Harry finally spoke, “I didn’t know you worked here. How have you been?”

Okay. A standard greeting. Even that alone got her heart aflutter. She wasn’t sure if he’d act like he didn’t know her or if he’d greet her kindly. She would assume the latter but of course, one never knows in these circumstances.

“I’ve been well. This is actually a new job for me. And uh, how about you? How have you been?”

Harry sipped the wine and nodded, “S’good. Thank you. I’ll have a glass of this one,” he cleared his throat while she poured a serving for him, “And yeah… I’m great. Thank you. We should catch up soon,” he leaned in closer and finished his thought, “Kind of wish I’d gotten your number.” He spoke the last sentence a little softer so only she could hear.

For the duration of the dinner it was difficult to have any kind of real conversation with Harry while she was taking orders and running back and forth but each time she returned Harry made sure to get in a comment or ask her a question. She noticed the looks from a few of the people sitting around the table.

Heading back into the kitchen to grab their meals she noticed Vrya walking toward her side of the restaurant where the private dining room was. By then, all the servers heard about who was in the private dining room. Most didn’t make a fuss about it but a couple of them were curious.

With the tray loaded she delicately walked back toward her guests and spotted Vrya next to Harry and chatting. Technically Vyra wasn’t allowed to speak to guests at Y/n’s table unless she requested help. It wasn’t a big deal normally, but since Harry was a celebrity, a famous pop star, it would be frowned upon. This wasn’t some Deux Moi tell-all Sunday sightings gossip rag. This was a posh, upscale restaurant where wealthy people and celebrities came to enjoy a quiet meal without being disturbed or spotted. Mannie was not going to be happy about Vrya taking it upon herself to check on Y/n’s table. She couldn’t wait to talk to Laren about Vyra as well. She wished her cousin was there that night so she could vent but she’d be calling her about this later.

Placing the tray onto the stand Y/n frowned at Vrya as they made eye contact, “I was just seeing if everything was going well. Since you’re new and all,” Vrya laughed and looked down at Harry, “Plus having such a big star here we need to make sure service is perfect.”

Harry smiled at Y/n, “Y/n here been more than perfect. You’ve nothing to worry about. I’m sure we all agree,” he gestured toward everyone at the table, “we are in the most capable hands here. Couldn’t be happier.”

The fake smile on the intruder was telling as Y/n began to bring dishes around the table, “Thanks for checking in on me Vrya. It’s unnecessary, though. I’ll call on help if I need it.”

Standing up straight and nodding at Harry she walked behind Y/n and whispered, “His water glass is low,” and then exited the room.

Y/n had no idea what she’d done that would have Vyra acting like such a child. She was polite to Vrya but she really wanted to yank her hair out and shove her out the window for sticking her nose into business that wasn’t hers. But she figured she was better off ignoring the whole thing.

“So, Y/n…” one of the guys at the table spoke up, “We hear that you and Harry met at a recent concert. How did you enjoy the show?”

She felt her neck get hot as she fumbled with the notepad in her apron pocket, “Oh… it was awesome. Yeah. I gave him a pair of sunglasses that he wore that night on stage. That’s pretty much how we met. Brought a co-worker with me. A blast. It was the first concert I’ve been to.” She smiled and then quickly corrected, “First Harry Styles concert that is!”

The look on Harry’s face was cheeky. He was holding in an obvious grin on his face as he gazed at her. She was a nervous thing in this setting. Harry remembered quite well how sure of herself and confident she’d been that night. How she was practically dominating him, leading everything that happened. Mostly.

And even though he made it clear that what had happened was just for that night, he realized he’d been fantasizing about her a lot since then. In fact, every time he touched himself his thoughts made their way to Y/n just before he could come. He hadn’t even slept with anyone since. Not that he’d been holding out for her or anything. He had been thinking about her a lot, though. Missing her even. He was quite delighted that she was his server and that he happened to meet her once again. It felt like fate maybe.

And Harry was a big believer in fate and the universe shifting and creating space and paths for humanity. He was a believer in karma and destiny and intertwined lives. And so because of that Harry was sure this meant something.

When the restaurant was shut down and the servers were calling it a night, Y/n was clearing the table and refilling the last of the wine for everyone. She was told not to rush them, and she had no intention of doing so. She was enjoying the table. Everyone was polite and easy to please. There were no difficult requests or off-the-wall dietary restrictions.

Though Harry was particular with his order (the man was clearly eating strictly healthy which made sense given the state of his body, which she was quite acquainted with) it was easy to accommodate. Plus his presence had set her in a good mood. He was gentle and sweet and everyone in his party was the same.

And the way Harry kept looking at her, as if he knew something she didn’t somehow… a teasing grin, slightly stifled… she was all nerves and butterflies and big smiles. It had been an amazing night at work. It hardly felt like work at all.

Exiting the bathroom after a much-needed bladder release she walked up the hallway but was stopped short when she heard his voice, “What are you doing after you get off?”

His deep rasp had her tummy boiling as she turned and saw him leaning against the frame where the hallway met the corner of the entry to the kitchen. Stepping back toward him she looked up at his sharp green eyes and shook her head, “Going home.”

That smirk, the one that hid what he was really thinking deep down slowly widened until he was grinning full-on, “Where’s home?”

Looking behind her and then over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby she squinted her eyes at him, “Why do you want to know?”

Harry sighed and softened his stance, putting his arms down to his sides, “Because. I was gonna ask a follow-up question and figured it might be important to know if my place is closer or yours.”

She let out a soft laugh in surprise and now her ears were growing warm, “At this hour… A fifteen-minute drive away.”

Harry nodded and reached a hand out to her apron, pulling gently at the bow, “Got it. Would you be interested in having me over tonight?”

Cocking her head and keeping her eyes squinted in scrutiny she responded, “And why would you want to come over to my place?”

She felt like this was obvious. She could have answered this question on her own. But she wanted to hear it from him. Wanted to be sure she was on the same page as him.

He leaned in and lowered his voice, keeping a finger looped into her apron’s bow, “Seeing you tonight has reminded me of how much fun we had. I know I said it was only a one-time thing but maybe we could make it a two-time thing,” he smiled broadly and shrugged.

Harry was a confident guy. He wasn’t typically turned down. In fact, on the rare occasion he was turned down it usually had nothing to do with him. So he was pretty sure Y/n would be happy to have him. But even as sure of himself as he felt, he was feeling his nerves peak at the idea she would say no.

“A two-time thing. Okay… well I do have a roommate. His bedroom is connected to the wall next to mine. Privacy is an issue. If you’re okay with that then I’d say… sure.”

Harry let out a laugh through his nose, though it was more out of relief than due to anything being funny, “What makes you think I want to be in your bedroom? Maybe I just wanted to stop by for a movie. Or we could bake cookies or something.”

Harry laughed at the obvious nonsense he’d just spewed. They both knew what this was.

“Oh? So you want to like watch a movie and bake some shit? I’m down with that. I don’t think I have the ingredients to make cookies or anything but I’m sure we could stop somewhere and grab flour–“

Harry pinched at her hip and stepped in close, “I was kidding…”

Now it was Y/n’s turn to laugh before she straightened her back as much as possible and put on a serious face. With his proximity, she was bent slightly back to look up at him, “You were? So you mean you don’t want to bake cookies with me?”

Harry’s grin and his hands at her hips were soft, “I don’t want to bake cookies with you. I want to get you in bed again.”

Well okay. There it was. She knew that’s what it was but to hear him say it out loud had her head spinning and her heart pounding.

She nodded, “Right. So… how do we do it? You want me to drive or…?”

Harry shook his head with a laugh, “Give me your number.”

. . .

Harry and his crew left before Y/n did. She’d given him her number and he texted her back right away. It was surreal. Just like how she felt the first time she met him. She almost didn’t believe it was happening.

Vyra was cold for the rest of the night but after the huge tip left, Y/n could understand why. Harry’s table had been her only table of the night. Her shift was only four hours but they stayed the entire time. She figured Vyra knew that some celebrities tipped well and wanted in on that.

In fact, the tip had been so big she had to sit down when she realized the number written in the tip line with a small smiley face next to it. She’d have a talk to Harry about this. It was far more than necessary. Even after splitting the tips up between the kitchen and the bussers in the system, it left her with enough money to cover rent and all her bills for a month. Yeah. Excessive.

She texted Harry the minute she parked her car in front of her house. It was well after midnight. She wasn’t sure he’d actually come, still in disbelief about it all. The fact that he was there and that she was assigned to that table felt like pure luck. Fate if you believed in that kind of thing. Which she didn’t. Not normally anyway.

His return text came back quickly.

On my way.

Quickly showering off her sweat and the smell of cooked food then shaving her legs she tried to calm herself down. The night with Harry in the hotel room she’d been perfectly groomed and ready for anything that might happen. Not that she expected it that night, but one never knows. Going to a Harry Styles concert and having the chance to catch his eye wasn’t something she’d half-ass. She never in a million years would have thought he’d have pointed her out while he was singing and then proceed to bring her back to his suite. But he did.

And this evening, she wasn’t fully groomed but smooth legs and clean bits were the least she could offer in such a short amount of time. She laughed to herself as she thought about it all. Wondered if he’d even care if she was a little sweaty. She wasn’t going to chance it.

When he texted that he was out front she took a few deep breaths and looked in the mirror one last time just to be sure before dashing to the front door as quietly as possible (so as not to wake Brad) to let the famous pop star into her small, rented bungalow.

She gestured to Harry with a finger to keep quiet, “My roommate is sleeping. Do you need water? The bathroom?”

Harry’s grin revealed that he needed only one thing. And neither had anything to do with what she’d just offered.

“I take it no baking cookies, then?”

They grinned at each other as she led him to her room.

Her bedroom was cute. She had cream curtains that draped down to the floor, a wooden dresser with a framed photo of Y/n with her family atop, a coaster from a local bar, a box that appeared to be a jewelry case, and a carton of tissues. Her bed was made and the comforter looked fluffy with a pretty pink and yellow flower pattern all over it. Framed prints of plants and flowers on her walls and a standing lamp in one corner. A closed door, which was definitely hiding a closet behind. A nightstand on either side of her bed.

“Cute,” Harry spoke as he looked everything over and then brought his gaze back to the woman he’d been fantasizing about since their last night together.

“Yeah. Uh… this is it.” She shrugged and felt her tummy warm up under his scrutiny. He was staring at her and she knew he was there for one thing only.

Sitting on her bed she sighed and attempted to lighten the mood, “So… that tip was way too big, Harry. I can’t possibly accept such a thing. I don’t think–“

Harry shushed her as he sat down and took her hand in his, “Nonsense. You are an amazing server and deserve every penny of that. Probably more even.”

His light eyes were scalding. Every inch of skin he took in she felt sizzle.

“Thank you. Just feels weird. Especially now that you’re here…” she laughed quietly.

“Now that I’m here? What do you mean?” His fingers wound into hers, his thumb moving along the edge of her hand. Such an innocent gesture, giving her goosebumps. Though she was well aware his intentions weren’t innocent.

“I mean… Like you just gave me a bunch of money and now you’re in my bedroom,” she smiled and tried to maintain eye contact but it was hard with how gorgeous he was.

“This is separate from that, Y/n. You should know that. I just missed you which is why I wanted to come here. You’re just really good,” he looked at the bed and then back to her, “You know… in this setting.” He grinned wide.

“In this setting?” She laughed at his words and shook her head.

The grin dropped from Harry’s face as he brought his free hand up to cup her jaw, “Can I kiss you? I missed these lips so much. I’ve been thinking of them since that first time with you.”

Nodding her head she felt him pull at her thigh just as his lips found hers.

Things had shifted since the last time she saw him. Somehow it felt a little different. Maybe more intimate in some way. It was probably because they were in her bedroom rather than a hotel suite, and this was the second time they’d be seeing each other in this context. But there was something else there too. She was feeling… less sure of herself. She still had the confidence she needed to kiss him back and unbutton his shirt, but unlike last time when she was feeling very forward, this time something kept her slightly reserved.

And Harry noted her softer demeanor. He didn’t mind it, though. In fact, this time he was feeling like he wanted to show her how good he could be. Give her a taste of him taking the lead and maybe have her begging him a bit. He was in a bit of a mood that night. He was glad that he saw her in the restaurant because it’d been a month since he’d gotten laid (and it just so happened the last person he’d had sex with was Y/n) and she was the only girl he could think of that would scratch the itch he had.

Y/n was pressed back into the mattress as Harry pulled her sweatpants off, “Do you want to feel good, Y/n?”

She nodded and puffed a laugh out, “Well… yeah…” She thought that was an obvious answer and the way she responded told Harry she was mocking him.

Harry paused the movements of his hands as he stuck his fingers into her panty’s waistband. He cocked his brow up at her in warning before he popped her thigh with a smack. She laughed and sat up with her mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Behave. I was just asking a question. Wanna try that answer again?”

She swallowed and blinked her eyes, “Yes, Harry. I want to feel good.” She smirked at him. Her answer was still lined with cheek but he’d give her a pass. He wanted to see her.

He smiled and nodded before proceeding to pull her panties down her legs, “Good. Because that’s what we’re here for. To feel good. Take your shirt off for me.”

Y/n was relieved that Harry seemed to pick up where she was lacking. She didn’t know what had her feeling so permissive but they seemed to be on the same page. She peeled her shirt off over her head and Harry spread her legs apart, fitting himself in between her thighs.

He was still mostly dressed. His shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans were undone. Both Y/n’s doing, but that was as far as it had gone with getting him out of his clothes before he stopped her and began to tell her he was going to get her naked.

“Can you take your bra off too? Need it all off.” He waved his hand toward her chest as he directed his sight to the space between her thighs. It felt so vulnerable to have him clothed while she was naked. But she did as he said and removed her bra for him.

The dim lamp in her room kept everything visible. Harry could tell she was already a bit wet. The gleam peeking out from her labia had his tummy on fire. He couldn’t wait to feel her again. Slip his cock right in and drive into her. He imagined he’d need to keep her mouth covered while he was fucking her to keep her quiet because he recalled how loud she was the first time they’d been together.

But before he could indulge himself in feeling the juicy stretch of her around him, he was determined to have her come in his mouth and on his fingers first. She didn’t orgasm when he ate her out the last time and that was something that stuck with him. He had nowhere to be the following morning and given that it was a Sunday he figured she was free as well so they could play for a lot longer this time around. Not that that stopped them from having a good romp and then a quick fuck in the morning the last time, but he planned to take his sweet time with her now.

He smoothed his hands up her thighs and licked his lips, “I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy until you come and then if you’re still well behaved maybe I’ll let you taste my cock for a bit before I fuck you. How’s that sound?”

She nodded and moaned softly, “Mmm… That sounds so good.”

Harry smiled and pressed his thumb over her clit and gently began to rub back and forth, “It does doesn’t it? I missed this with you, angel. Can’t believe I thought it was just going to be the one time. Seems as though fate had a different idea.”

She scrunched her brows and an ooh feel from her mouth at the feel of his thumb on her clit and his soft words.

Harry leaned over her body, the fabric of his shirt dragging over her tummy as he dipped down to wrap his mouth around her pebbled nipple. She craned her neck back into the soft pillow and sighed at the feel of him on her. His lips on her breast and his thumb on her wet nub.

By the time he’d licked and sucked the expanse of both of her breasts, she was completely on edge. On fire. His teasing thumb gently rolling her clit back and forth was making her lose it.

“Fuck… please, Harry,” she whispered as she stuffed her fingers into his hair. He lifted off her breast and looked up at her, “What is it, angel? Please what?”

“I just… I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and looked at where his hand was at her pussy. All wet and shiny for him, “What did I say?” He looked back into her eyes, “Don’t you remember what I said I was gonna do first?”

She let out a shaky breath, “I do. I just thought you could skip it if you wanted. Really want to feel you again.”

He kept his thumb working her clit as he groaned, “I want to feel you too. But I have to have a go at you first. Want to put my mouth right here,” he slid his thumb upward and pressed down, “and make you come.”

Her tongue poked out from her lips as she kept her mouth parted. Heavy lids and wiggly hips.

Harry loved the way she looked. Like she was ready for whatever was to come. She was desperate for him and he already had her saying please. He loved a little begging when he could get it.

“Little tongue coming out to say hello,” he reached forward and pressed his finger onto her pink muscle and she immediately wrapped her lips around his digit. His own mouth dropped open at her desperation. Her tongue pressed into the pad of his finger and she sucked him in.

“Shit, angel. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good. Okay? Don’t worry.”

He felt her lift upward into his hand and he got the hint. She needed something.

Pulling his finger out of her mouth and taking his hand from her pussy he pulled his shirt off over his shoulders and knelt down, pressing his fingers through her crease, coating his digits in her slippery essence.

He looked up at her face as he plunged two fingers into her hole and then lowered his mouth over her cunt and she bellowed loudly before putting her arm over her mouth to keep herself quiet. She’d have to keep herself in check with the noises but her concern about Brad being right next to her room was slowly dissolving.

Harry chuckled into her labia as his tongue slipped up and down, lapping at her arousal.

It was soft but every time he puckered his lips and ran his tongue up and down her clit she felt a spark lighting up her insides.

Her moans were muffled under her arm. But she was so wet that everything in her room sounded exactly like what was happening. Harry’s lips and tongue and fingers moved through her wet labia and creamy arousal and she wished she could record the sounds to listen to later.

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest and he curled his fingers and dragged the tips along her soft ridges on the inside. He flattened his tongue over her clit and slurped before quickly sweeping his tongue back and forth. Her little squeak was a good sign. He smiled.

When he felt her fingers in his hair, pulling gently she began to roll her hips into his face. He lifted up to take a look at her as much as he could with her fingers on his head. She was gorgeous. Her wet pussy was smeared all over his face, her tits swayed softly as she arched and writhed, her hair was splayed out across her pillow, soft thighs parted.

Then he noticed the way she was fucking herself down onto his fingers. Her hips began to move faster and her pathetic mewls were falling muffled from her mouth.

Harry lowered his lips back to her pussy and she sighed in relief. But he only applied a sloppy kiss to her mound before looking back up at her. He moved his free hand up her body and pushed her arm off her face, tilting his head up to speak, “Keep your eyes on me, angel. You can be a good girl stay quiet. I know you can,” he pumped his fingers into her as he spoke against her pussy in hot breaths.

She adjusted her body slightly, using the pillow to help keep her neck angled so she could watch him. To keep her eyes on his. She gasped and tried to stifle her moans as she watched him dig in with his whole face.

His pretty green eyes were mostly pupil, dark with only the edges of crystal green surrounding. She put her other hand into his hair and cradled the back of his head. The hand he wasn’t using to finger her had her thigh held down, his fingers pinching into her soft skin.

But then he used his tongue to move quickly back and forth over her clit while thrusting his fingers deep, curling into the right spot. And there was something about his eyes watching her that made her flush hot. His steady gaze seeped into her brain and wrapped itself around all those bits that supplied dopamine and caused a craving that would be hard to shake.

His fingers were stuffed so deep inside of her that she knew he must be getting his knuckles drenched. Probably his whole hand given how wet everything sounded. The bend of his fingers inside of her and the pressure on her clit, when he sucked her, pulled a loud groan from her lungs. But it didn’t stop him from continuing the sloppy lapping and slurping.

Pulling his hair tighter between her fingers she bucked her hips into his face and tried to close her legs slightly by instinct. Harry kept her one thigh pressed down hard and he used his shoulder to hold her other side down.

She cried out, “Oh god!” And threw her head back, removing her eyes from Harry’s just as she felt the spark turn into a harsh current that began to tip her into the edge of her orgasm. She knew it had been too loud. Knew that it might have woken up her housemate but she was too far away from caring about that just then. Her pussy was being snacked on in a way she’d never experienced in her life.

Harry dug himself in deeper when he could tell she was close. Her loud cry and the quiver of her thighs were a good sign. He kept at what he was doing and looked up at her soft tits as she arched her back and moaned his name.

When she began to clamp down on his fingers and her moans moved into a steady stream of whining and whimpering and her muscles tensed he knew he’d gotten her to come finally. He allowed her to have her eyes closed because he could tell it was intense. He’d have her watching him next time he made her come on his cock.

Which reminded him of what sort of state he was in. His hard dick was painfully achy. But the anticipation for what was to come had him reeling as he licked her through to her end, keeping his fingers inside of her, working her until she slowed her hips and loosened the grip on his curls.

He sat back, grabbing her hands from his hair, and looked over his handiwork. Her pussy was ready to be fucked. She was ripe for more. He knew she’d be good for another orgasm. Her body was made for this.

When she finally opened her eyes she giggled as he leaned over her frame. His face was all wet. His chin, his cheeks, and his nose were shiny with her. She followed him with her eyes as he climbed over her.

Somewhere in between her coming and right then, he’d removed his pants and boxer briefs. His cock hung heavy over her face, “Open.”

She was flat on her back as she opened her mouth for him, reaching a hand up to grasp the base of his cock to guide him to her mouth. She felt his warm tip against her lip, the smear of his precome and her slippery arousal wetting the edge of her mouth before she wrapped her lips around him.

The groan he let out was the sound of pure sex. She had barely done a thing but she was already smiling to herself at the way she made him whine.

Harry held onto the headboard with one hand and used his other to grasp the back of her head as he pushed himself down into her throat. He’d only dip in a few times. Make her swallow and gag around him once her twice because he wanted to fuck her. Wanted to feel her again.

She closed her eyes when Harry’s tip dragged against the back of her throat. He pumped himself into her a few times and she swallowed as she gagged around him. The whimper he let out made her brain swirl. She was thoroughly enjoying having her throat fucked. He wasn’t going in too hard but he was taking control of her and dipping in until she was coughing and drooling.

He pulled himself out and looked down at her, moving his hand up to her cheek with a grin, “My god, angel. Just so fucking perfect.”

She was still catching her breath. From her orgasm, from having his cock in her throat, from the intensity of the moment…

She could hear him ripping the condom wrapper open before he was back in view. He sat between her legs on his haunches as he softly moved his palms over her thighs and up to her hips, “Gonna give me another one? Come on cock this time?”

She planted her gaze on his and nodded, “Yes…” her words were a whisper.

The cheeky grin Harry returned to her had her heart fluttering. He was so painfully attractive she felt like this was all a dream.

“Good. Need you to keep your eyes on me this time, okay?” He paused as she nodded, “Want to watch your face when I make you come. Might have to cover your mouth if you get too loud like you just were. Is that okay?”

Another quick nod and a moan told him she was on board.

Harry moved his hands up her sides, pressing his fingers into her soft skin and up to her breasts, kneading at them for a moment before lining himself up to her hole, “Look at me.”

They kept their eyes locked as he slowly pressed in past her tight opening. Harry knew that if they went without a condom he might come inside of her and not want to pull out. If she felt as good as she did with a condom, he knew he’d be falling in love and down on one knee if he felt her without.

Her puffy, juicy pussy was taking him in just as he remembered. He had to work himself in and out a bit before he finally got himself into her balls deep. He would have loved to tuck himself in further but he was halted from his thick, full balls.

“Feel that, angel?” He groaned quietly as she nodded nodded in gasps. “Yeah? It’s so fucking deep, isn’t it? Love the way you spread open for me,” he rocked into her and pulled back, listening to the slick sounds it made.

He put his palms on the mattress with his body leaned over hers, using his strong back and thighs to fuck into her as deep as he could. He just wanted to be stuffed inside of her guts, fucking into her as far as humanly possible. And she felt that too. It was deep. The sharp ache made her keen but the drag of his pelvis against her clit felt otherworldly.

Her thighs were pushed back, bent at the knee as Harry laid himself into her over and over again. Thick, deep, languid strokes.

“Ahhhh!” She cried when he smacked into her, pushing her upward slightly.

Harry groaned and kept his eyes on hers, “Yeah? It’s that good, huh? Gonna have to cover your mouth now because I’m about to go a little harder.” She wanted harder. Liked soft too, but hard stuck around for days. Loved the feeling of having her pussy fucked so good she was reminded of it later on. Just like the first time they were together. She felt him every time she sat down or stood up for two days. Felt the leftover ache on her thighs and the burn on her bottom.

Harry angled himself down, pushing her thighs apart further with one hand and covering her mouth with his other. And his sudden punishing thrusts had her eyes going wide. It hadn’t been expected so quickly but he got right to it.

He could feel the vibrations of her moans against his palm as he buried himself in and pulled back to his tip before he hammered back into her repeatedly. Long, deep, fast strokes.

She was already rolling her eyes into the back of her head. He wanted her to watch him but he’d give her a small break and make her open them when she was coming. He wanted to watch her face and her eyes as she reached her peak.

Her bed creaked and the springs danced loudly. Muffled sounds of moans and the wet slap of skin filled her bedroom. Harry didn’t necessarily want her roommate to hear them but he did enjoy all the noises that came with sex. And in all honesty, they were both being as quiet as possible given how hard he was fucking her.

His thighs burned from the thrusts and his back muscles held himself steady over her, “Listen to that, angel. Our bodies connecting like that. How wet you are for me…” he moaned his words as he watched her face screw up in ecstasy. Her muted noises were stifled with his palm as he wrecked her insides.

She felt every inch of him taking her. Every slip and thrust, drag and pull, every deep nudge inside… She opened her eyes to see him already looking down at her and she nearly lost it. His hair was in his face, curls swaying, sweat building at his temples, his arms were flexing as he held himself up over her, his chest flushed and glistening from the intensity of his thrusts into her. He was so strong and so overpowering she felt like a rag doll under him flopping and grunting under his hand. She was just a hole to fuck as she clenched down on him when he pasted his hips to hers and rocked inward sharply.

“Keep those eyes open, angel. I can tell you’re about to come on my cock and I need you to look at me so you know who’s making you come,” he spoke his words through gasped breaths as he pushed into her deeply, slowing his thrusts so he could control his own orgasm. He was too close and he knew she was nearly there.

He rocked his hips into hers he ground himself down when he stuffed himself in fully, making sure her clit was being smushed against for friction. Repeatedly he fucked her little hole with slow plunges and smoothed against her clit. Every time he screwed into her to the hilt he felt his balls pressing into her bum, being wetted by her creamy arousal. He keened at the feel of her around him. Every little ridge of her insides taking him in like they were made for that very thing had him spinning.

Harry removed his hand from her mouth. He wanted to see her whole face as he fucked into her. Wanted to watch her mouth drop open as she creamed on his cock when she came, wanted to hear her cries, fuck anyone else that might hear. In that moment it was all about his angel and how good she was feeling. All he cared about was that she was being taken care of and that he was making her feel as good as she deserved.

“Harry, please… oh my god please…” she gasped as she clung tight to his back. His cock inside of her felt full and had her walls tingling and fluttering. She was reeling with pleasure and having him inside of her. Never wanted that feeling to go away. If she could bottle it up and take it with her she would. So she tried to stave off her orgasm for a moment longer.

“Begging me, baby? Want to come so bad don’t you? But it feels so good like this doesn’t it?” He used a hand to hold the side of her face as if he were being gentle with her. As if he wasn’t fucking into her deep with harsh ruts inward that had her gasping for air. His words and his soft touches and his hard cock were doing her in.

She tried. She really did. She wanted to have him fucking her like that for hours but she couldn’t hold on any longer. She began to moan, starting with a low, quiet sound, until she was crying out his name and shaking under him.

She kept her eyes open but found the task difficult as she started to come. And she realized that watching Harry while she came only intensified her orgasm. Her head swirled with his handsome face hovering over hers, looking directly at her as he made her come felt like she was being dominated in a way that she’d never experienced. He hadn’t tied her up or whipped her or anything like that, but it was the sensation of being watched while she was coming that made her feel like he was taking control. The experience of having the man who was making her come as he looked down at her at that moment felt like he’d claimed her as his. He was watching his own work come to fruition and it was a dominant act.

“Fuck, angel. Just like that. Come all over me. She me how good it feels.”

Y/n babbled an unintelligible response and moaned around her syllables and vowels. She didn’t know what she was saying as she forced her eyes to stay on his.

And it had been worth it to keep her eyes open when she saw Harry’s face pinch up and his mouth drop open. She could hear his groan and the harsh thuds into her cunt before he stilled and clenched his teeth as his cock throbbed inside of her. He was coming and she got to see it on the tail end of her own orgasm and it was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

“Ahhh!” He panted as he sucked in a deep breath and choked out a loud moan. The release was heaven. He came so hard he wondered if it could be possible to leak out of his condom. He pumped and throbbed and worked himself to his end as he looked down at the pretty angel under him all fucked out and smiley on his cock.

His chest heaved as he twitched the last little bit and his features relaxed on the comedown. He kept himself over her as he began to smile, “You okay?”

She was melted below him, a soft smile on her lips as she nodded, “So fucking good. Oh my god…” she whispered.

Harry gently pulled himself off of her and checked to verify that he hadn’t in fact leaked out of his condom before pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. He’d deal with the cleanup later. In that moment he needed to hold her and kiss her for a while.

She felt her body pulled against his and then his lips caressing over hers. Soft and reassuring. Her orgasm had been intense. Maybe the most incredible orgasm she’d ever had. The eye contact was something she hadn’t expected. She thought it would feel silly. At first, it made her feel vulnerable but when she could tell how much he needed it, needed her eyes on his it felt like a rush. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she came so hard.

She kissed him back and put her hands up to his shoulders. Lazy and soft and sweet.

Harry pushed his nose into hers and spoke softly, “That was really, really good, Y/n. You don’t mind if I stay the night here, do you?”

Shaking her head she scraped her nails against the nape of his neck, “I want you to stay. Please.”

. . .

Waking up in her bed with Harry next to her felt like a wild fantasy. She considered pinching herself as she fluttered her eyes open and saw his sleeping face smushed into her pillow. The night before he’d been a sex god. A man so fine with a masculine and well-muscled body that he made her mouth water and her clit throb. He’d fucked her so good and it was so hot it gave her goosebumps just thinking about it. But there he was lying in her bed asleep, pink lips and glossy eyelids, small puffs of breath coming from his nose, and adorably messy hair. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around how he went from the man who took control of her the night before to the soft, cute, sleeping beauty the very next morning.

He asked if he could stay. Said he wanted to be with her a little longer. And that was the part that really stuck with her. Sure he was handsome and then some. They got along so well and everything felt so compatible with him. And that was a problem. Because he wasn’t just some guy. This was Harry Styles. She couldn’t go getting her feeling too mixed up in everything. But he made it hard with the way he treated her and handled her. Like they’d known one another for an eternity.

On their first night together it was clear that what they were doing was just something fun and that was it. Which she was fine with. She happily accepted his terms then. Just as she happily said yes to him staying the night this time. Whatever he wanted she was fine with it. Well, she hoped she’d be fine. Because she was sure he’d never get his feelings mixed up with sex when it came to her.

Gently putting her fingers into his hair she saw his eyelids move and then slowly he graced her with his gorgeous eyes and then a soft smile.

He didn’t say anything before he dragged her the short distance to rest her head on the pillow his head was on and kissed her.

And it went from a quiet soft morning make out to Harry’s erection poking into her hip and then scrambling for a condom with messy hair and soft sighs to a slow break of day fuck.

The springs in her bed bounced gently with every thrust of his hips. Harry kept his mouth glued to hers as he drove into her soft, wet pussy. All of her blankets had been kicked to the floor in a rush for the condom and switching positions on the bed and now it was just two bodies at the center finding relief and catching an early orgasm before their day began.

Harry rocked into her, his cock so hard and thick she felt every single inch of him moving into her and slipping back before he languidly pushed in until his hips met hers. She had her ankles crossed over his back and Harry had one hand cradling the back of her head, his mouth covering hers while his other forearm kept himself held up slightly, his chest against hers.

She gasped under him, reaching for breath every time he thrust into her. His own panting grew more desperate and soon the first sound of his voice was heard for the day, a whimpered moan falling from his throat as he felt her walls taking him in with a decadent squeeze and wet squelch.

Morning sex was always Y/n’s favorite, but it turned out it was Harry’s too. It was less fussy really. Just two tired bodies wanting to connect and feel pleasure in the golden morning light. No preamble or big to-do. Just soft morning sex and a delicious orgasm to get the day started off right.

The moment Y/n’s moan grew loud and Harry felt her cunt spasming and pulling him in deeply he let go, spurting into his condom and licking into her mouth as he throbbed in ecstasy.

And just like the night before and the first night she’d spent with him, she was amazed. Maybe it was the shape of his cock or their natural chemistry. Or maybe it was just Harry, but somehow the sex with him was beyond just good sex. She was going to be haunted by this man.

When he pulled out he held her thighs apart and lapped at her gently, just for a taste. Just to enjoy one more little squeal from her throat, which she immediately gifted him.

“Harry stop! I’m too sensitive!” She pushed at his forehead and he smiled up at her before collapsing onto the bed next to her.

He hated navigating relationships because being famous already put his life under a microscope. Most of the time it wasn’t worth it to keep seeing someone for sex unless it was a person he knew feelings would never be a problem with, and they could both have the understanding that it was just sex. But that was rare for him. Harry was all or nothing with sex usually. It was either a one-time deal or he’d want a long-term committed relationship. And the latter was complicated for someone with his lifestyle. His last long-term relationship was something he’d take with him forever. He considered it a lesson learned. And for him that meant needing to be very picky and selective about whom he let into his heart.

No more mixing business with pleasure and then taking on the guilt of having a public break-up. No more women with super complicated lives that he could get mixed up into.

He felt like he was treading dangerously with Y/n. He didn’t want to hurt her and he didn’t want to get himself hurt either. But he could see himself being with someone like her. He liked her spice and her straightforward demeanor. She was confident and funny. She wasn’t the type that he’d be able to keep his feelings separated from the sex with. He was already getting attached.

“What?” He asked her. She was lying next to him, they were sharing a pillow and she had a small smirk on her face as she gazed over his features.

“Nothing. It’s stupid,” her grin didn’t fall off her face.

Harry brought a hand up to her jaw and he thumbed gently toward her temple, “Tell me. I like stupid sometimes,” he laughed.

She bit her lip and looked away from him for a few moments before putting her eyes back on his, “Your song, Watermelon Sugar. It’s about cunnilingus?” Her smile widened feeling ridiculous asking him such a question but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Ever since the night before when he made her come from eating her out (a rarity for her) and then that morning after they’d had sex when he went in for a quick lick.

Harry laughed and nodded, “I guess. Yeah. Why?”

“Cause you just seem to really like it.”

Harry took in a deep breath and moved his hand down her side, “I love it. Is that okay?”

She looked at him like he was crazy, “Of course it is. Very much so.”

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Harry had been fun and sweet. And to know that this famous man could have anyone he wanted yet he chose to spend the night with her felt like something quite special. Something she wouldn’t get the chance to do ever again. To have him in bed at all was a crazy notion. But to have it happen twice?

“I want to see you again. When I get back to LA in a couple of months. Is that okay?” He said as he pulled her in for a hug before they left her bedroom. His car was waiting for him.

His words shocked her. Again?

“Oh. Yeah… Sure. That would be fun.” She was surprised. Stunned. If he wanted to see her again what did that mean? Was he thinking of her as more than just someone to have sex with?

“Well, geez. You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it,” he laughed as he pulled back from the hug.

Shaking her head she grinned, “Just didn’t expect you to want to see me again. You’re gonna be gone for months. I mean… I’d love to. Of course. But you know… No pressure.”

“Of course, there’s no pressure. I’m just saying I’d like to see you again if you’re free when I return to LA. That’s all.”

Letting out the breath she’d held in she nodded, “Yes, Harry. I’d really like that.”

Harry smiled softly and put a hand up to her face to press his palm over her cheek as he looked her over, “Gonna miss you, angel. Wish I could take you with me.”

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