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#soft farmer boy
khun-sam · 1 year
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GEORGIE FARMER as AJAX PETROPOLUS WEDNESDAY NETFLIX (2022)
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(Farmer trying to fix something/put something together)
Farmer: this is so frustrating I HATE THIS I HATE EVERYONE!!!!!
(Rafael comes up behind them)
Rafael: everyone?
(Farmer winces, then smiles weakly, finger guns)
Farmer: everyone except you
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theknifeclown · 7 months
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Hi uhm jdjdhd
Could we have.
Some Corbin content because- Halloween be coming up and scare crows are COOL
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Ask and you shall receive
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lastmurianwarrior · 1 year
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Ask Meme for penguin boi -> B1 or 3D please
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((It's challenging to think of where/when he might smile that way. But I had this headcanon about the Nansuka village [also known as Whazzap/Nanzca] having llamas and alpacas since the location was based largely on Peruvian ruins such as Machu Picchu and the Nazca Lines. ~On that note!~ Most of Peru's coast is also inhabited by Humboldt penguins. ᕙ(^▿^-ᕙ) Imagine a country where penguins ancient ruins, cocoa, and alpacas all have their place.))
((On this blog: After the final battle with Ra Mu, Burai went to the Nansuka ruins, as they reminded him most of home; of Mu. A tenacious elderly farmer in a purple Poncho [known as Welamu] ensured his recovery. While the lone Murian pursues a nomadic lifestyle, he frequently returns to observe the village. He doesn't often let down his stoic front; but in truth, he's attached to the place.))
((There's something about being around friendly fluffy alpacas that helps melt away your problems. (╥‿‿╥) speaking from experience.))
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oncomingnight · 8 months
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Yandere! Artist
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Lorenzo was an incredibly well-groomed man. Only ever wearing the best tailored suits, minimalistic patterned ties and perfectly polished loafers. His mindset and obsessive tendencies completely contradict his organized persona.
A vast array of his works are just murals and life-sized portraits of you. Never in his life has he seen such an undeniable beauty like you, the closest anyone else other than him will get to admiring you is on the canvas. The two of you will be at the opening of one of his exhibitions watching everyone stand and stare at his works of you, it's an odd feeling but it's nice to witness how extensive his love for you is.
It's not that rare of an occurrence for someone to approach the both of you in public and start the conversation off with:
"So, the man and woman of the hour!"
Lorenzo has several works of his that he'll never allow anyone see, he keeps them a secret from the public eye. These private crafts consist of ceramic forms of your naked body, he never creates them for sexual pleasure but more so to admire every little crease and mark on your body when you're not there with him. He's also not known for ceramics but rather paintings in the style of impressionism and realism.
He has a friend group filled with people that are involved in the art scene, like, poets, architects, film directors, song artists and other well known painters. His presence in the art scene is pretty prominent as he's had books and articles written about his work and the supposed meanings behind them. When other artists are being interviewed and the topic of inspirations is brought up, his name is dropped all of the time.
Lorenzo grew up on a farm in a little agricultural town. He got used to churning butter, helping his father determine which produce was ripe, cutting homegrown vegetables on a creaky wooden table. He enjoyed this upbringing as it prepared him to make his own meals with what he had and how to grow food the correct way. Now, as he moved away from the countryside and into an immensely populated city, he always drives downtown to the farmers' market to not only get a sense of home but to get his groceries in a reliable space.
His love languages are all five of them; quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts and physical touch. During the most unexpected moments, he will place a framed portrait of you that he painted with the upmost attention in your hands. He will take you on a day-long trip to an area that you mindlessly mentioned of wanting to visit, taking you on a shopping spree to purchase anything you want and maybe he'll purchase an Italian leather jacket for himself.
Lorenzo really enjoys reading books but the genres he favors the most are philosophy, auto-biographies and (art) history.
He is an incredibly classy and proper man so when it comes to confronting somebody, he uses knowledge and soft insults to shoot them down. The two of you were at an opera that Lorenzo had dragged you to, and when a singer that was previously flirting with you walked on stage, he couldn't hide his disdain for the man. Lorenzo began critiquing their shrilling voice and off-key notes
"Isn't he supposed to be an alto? He's practically yelling as if it's spring break and he's a school boy." "Rossini didn't compose it that way, why did they alter it?" "My goodness, we should've never came, come, let's leave."
He can be a bit petty but there's no limits to the things he'd do for you.
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lunarw0rks · 6 months
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farmer!price & sweet little girl next door!reader (yes i’m thinking about this pairing in the most perverted way possible)
a/n: here it is. the long-awaited neighbor!price fic <3 Hopefully, you all enjoy these Price crumbs. anon is onto something ;) & thx for the dog name ideas! ⊹。°˖➴ ao3 ver. // word count: 6.9k
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// warning(s); nsfw (18+), implied age gap [r is mid-twenties, price is early/mid-forties], dadbod!price agenda, oral (r.), p/v unsafe sex, fem!reader
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Price is living out his recluse dreams. Retired and secluded, finally! It was more than he’d wished for, honestly. He always desired a patch of land far from town, leaving out scraps for the critters, finding the simple pleasures.
But here he was, with a small, self-sufficient farm, growing enough to feed himself. It was a quiet, rewarding lifestyle. Entirely the opposite of his years in the service. Right now, he found himself conquering his lost list of mundane tasks. Watering his herbs, then sorting the junk that accumulated in his storage shed.
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After a grueling afternoon of unpacking, you needed to unwind. Right now, you found yourself lounging on your deck, head tilted back as you shielded your eyes from the summer sun. As if moving and assembling furniture wasn't exhausting enough — now you had the sweltering star beating down on you.
Abruptly, you feel something soft brush against your legs. Before you can open your eyes, there's a hefty weight plunged atop your lap. Your eyes snap open, greeted with the hot breath of a smiling golden retriever.
You caress the blonde fur, receiving several licks along your hand. "Zeus! down, boy!" A husky voice shouts, followed by the face to match it. The eager, not-so-small ball of fluff hops off your lap, prancing toward the man walking around the side of your house.
A charcoal gray t-shirt hugging his buff but girthy body. A man who's been in shape for years — arms bulging and tanned from hours of working outside, all whilst his older years have caught up to him a bit on his stomach, which stuck out with just a bit of fat cushion.
"My apologies, he knows better." He rubbed his head and flashed an apologetic look, exposing the faint abs you'd already imagined on him at first glance. Price's eyes wandered you from top to bottom, nearly forgetting to unfurrow his brow.
What a sight for sore eyes, you were.
You peer down at your lap, now stained with dirt in the shape of paws — on your thighs and the shorts you're wearing. "Oh, not a big deal! he gave me quite a scare, but it was a pleasant surprise." You look over at Zeus, his tail thwacking against his owner's leg.
For a few moments, all he did was leer, before he snapped himself out of it. "John," he steps forward as if going to shake hands but retracts hastily.
"—'m all covered in dirt, wouldn't want to get you dirtier than Zeus already has, hm?" He chuckles when he finishes his rhetorical, smearing the dirt onto his denim pants.
You shake your head and chuckle gently, “no room for pleasantries in the countryside, is there?” You case his appearance again, eyes skimming his muscles.
John flashes a polite smile, muttering a reply before hooking a finger around the Golden’s red collar. “Be seeing you.” He effectively leads the sparky dog out of your yard, preventing both any more surprise attacks and more ogling on his part.
Not only was getting a new neighbor a surprise, but her being so damn tempting — an entirely different genre of awe.
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Yesterday wasn’t your smoothest first impression. looking rugged and sweaty from unpacking, ending up covered in dirt and in awkward conversation. You wanted a second chance. He was going to be your neighbor after all — and it wasn’t like there were many others. John was the only one within reasonable walking distance, it seemed.
Now, wearing a sundress as opposed to sweat-caked shorts and a tee — you were more confident in your odds of at least being civil with your neighbor. At the very least, a man who would roll up your trash bins before a storm. Perhaps even supply a spare cup of sugar if you were being optimistic.
You trudge down the dirt road, careful not to roll your ankle on the unpredictable mounds of earth. For a few moments, you’re convinced you’ve gone the wrong way. It’s either dense forest, patches of crop, or more road ahead of you.
Lord knows you were exhausted yesterday, maybe the handsome neighbor was just a figment in your fried mind. A foolish thought — but one that worsened the longer you walked.
The tray in your hands; a few oatmeal dog biscuits and some cookies made from the recipe on the chocolate chip bag. It was better than coming empty-handed, wasn’t it? That would just be distasteful judgment.
With eyes glued ahead, you nearly let the handles of the platter slip when you finally spotted the lights in the distance. Golden-tinted and countless, illuminating the updated cabin. In the yard, lay a few scattered chewed ropes and muddy tennis balls. You could safely assume you made it to the suave man’s residence.
You knock on the oak door, seeing the hues of a television flickering through some of the bent blinds. After a few seconds of mumbling, the door swung open.
Price answered with a beer in one of his fists, instantly straightening his posture when he laid eyes on you. The sundress; cherry red with splotches of tiny florals. Dusk sunbeams highlighted your bone structure seamlessly — casting an ethereal glow on your captivating flesh.
Today, instead of gray, his shirt is army green and just as snug of a fit. You can't help but prolong your stare when he leans against the doorway, his bicep bulging even when he stands with nonchalance. He's even more of a knockout when not covered in dirt; though you suppose the same could be applied to you.
"This is a surprise." He glances at the tray in your hands, then at the polite smile on your face as you flash it in his direction.
With a beam, you extend the platter out and wait for him to take it. "I wasn't sure when to come. I hope I'm not intruding." You speak softly, catching a glimpse of his tidy living space.
“No such thing as intrusion around here, eh? ‘m practically searching for chores these days. A little conversation won’t bother me any.” Price chuckles a bit, flicking his head as an invitation for you to join him.
You step inside behind him, engulfed by the scent of tobacco and cedarwood. The cabin's interior walls have been stained with a warm tint, stretching throughout what bits of the space you can spot. Immediately through the front door is his kitchen, likely the most modernized of the rooms.
Distressed, truffle-colored counters in an L shape; altogether enough space for a man living alone. Yet, the countertops are anything but cluttered — nearly spotless, in fact. He slides the tray across the counter, finally unveiling the homemade treats for both human and man's best friend.
"Figured chocolate chip would be simple enough, right?" You speak up, watching him examine one of them. For a few moments, he's lost in thought again, not taking a bite.
You furrow your brows, "please don't tell me I baked the one dessert you don't like."
Instantaneously, a grin smears on his face, then a rumbly snicker. "Nothing like that," he bites the cookie in half and savors its sweetness, "—just not used to having neighbors this deep in the woods, you're my first. And she can bake too, huh? Aren't I lucky?" He teases a bit at the end, rinsing off some chocolate residue from his scarred fingertips.
Well, it was only the recipe on the back of a bag, so you surely hope it would taste decent. You decide it best to leave that out, merely twirling your thumbs as he shuffles around the space.
Finally, he walks back around the counter and holds out the same beer he sipped when he answered the door. Your reluctant fist wrapped around the brown bottle's glass neck, following him as he led you to the porch.
“Weren’t you watching something?” You question, sitting yourself beside him on the cement steps. Zeus’ collar jingle sounded once the back door closed, the sound a signal for him to join his owner out back.
John shook his head, taking another sip of the brew as his achy muscles relaxed again. “You’re doing me a favor; I could cut back on my screen time.” He reached out his free hand and gently patted the dog’s head, giving his fur a few strokes.
“Cut back? By the looks of your land, you’re outside all day.” You retort with a playful scoff, feeling the nuzzle of a wet nose along your leg. Without shame, you glance at his hands, observing their size and condition. “The callouses don’t lie.”
You piqued his interest at the mention of his hands, and he'd noticed just how long you were staring at them. "Suppose you're right, love." On purpose, he caressed the neck of the bottle with his thumb. He takes another hefty sip, which prompts you to take your first.
You didn't have the heart to tell him before how much you disliked the taste. The tangy beer coated your mouth and throat, seemingly sliding down at an agonizing pace just to prolong the torment. Still, the scrunch of your face spilled enough of the fib.
"Faces don't lie, either." Price mocked, taking the barely touched bottle from your grip. His words held double meaning — one harmless and one sinful — though that truth was unbeknownst to both of you.
In a matter of seconds, you'd been caught in a petty lie. You wipe away the bit that dripped between your lips. "Guess you caught me," you chortle, "I don't like beer much."
"Much? Don't be so modest." He screws the top back on and sets it on the wooden deck beside him. "You hate it, don't you?"
The way he spoke had you in some sort of trance. Perhaps it was his age, perhaps it was his obvious past of influence. It was... like being interrogated. Not in the pathetic way an inexperienced civilian would mock his way through, either. The agitation of being put on the spot — feeling as though you'd done something illegal the second you approach airport security.
That is what this felt like; only the words came tender and sportive.
“Alright, I hate it.” You affirm, unable to wipe the simper off your face. “We’ve officially made it through our first lie. That’s a milestone, right? Saves us the sting later.” Unintentionally, you haven’t broken your stare — even when he did to gaze at the sunset in front of him.
Later? Would this company become a routine? How wrong was it for him to hope it would?
Eventually, he nods and turns to face you again, shamelessly taking you in like it was the first time. “Ah, you’re like me. Ten steps ahead, got everything planned out already.” He questions, squinting slightly from the bright dusk, which was actively being snuffed by storm clouds. "Besides, I could tell your lie from miles away. The way you fumbled that bottle."
You waved a flustered hand of dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. Point taken. I'll remember that next time."
John cocked a brow, "next time, eh? With no more fibbing?" He asked you jovially, once again putting you under his spotlight.
But this time you knew how to handle it. Besides, you had learned his ways of meaningless banter — despite only spending several minutes with the man. "Next time I'll make sure it's not so obvious, and you'll be none the wiser."
"It was more than how I held the bottle," you added accusingly. "You don't just afford a place like this with retirement savings. Not without sacrifices."
He was more than someone who once had a mundane, meaningless job. You could tell it from 'miles away' he was a man who had stories to tell. More than his scarred body already did, that was. A fierce career, a position of power — something cutthroat, literally.
Of course, you had no intention of prying. Screwing this relationship up prematurely would be a grave mistake.
Fortunately, he remained untouched by your suspicions; they intrigued him. And John, he knew you weren't wrong about him, either. He was one of the few souls who could confidently declare he'd seen it all — or the closest thing to it.
"Sacrifices... is a way to put it," his lips curled into a polite smile. Finally, he stopped staring holes into you and caught a whiff of musky petrichor in the air. "C'mon, we're due for rain. Get you inside before the mosquitos feast on us."
The same lips pursed, letting out a sharp whistle to recall Zeus. He transformed from a blond dot in the distance into a prancing canine at the speed of light, slowing to a prance when he laid eyes on his owner.
With one hand, he held both bottlenecks between his thick fingers, then opened the back door with the other. Zeus nudged your legs and walked through them, determined to get inside first. The sight made you snicker as you walked inside, hearing the soft creak of the door behind you.
His work boots thudded against the wooden floor as he took them off, setting them neatly beside the door. Yet another unusual trait for men his age living alone, at least in your experience. No clutter in sight, and no grime residue from his tireless yard work.
Now, his steps are a glide instead of thuds when he walks around the breakfast bar. You turned to face him, watching as he ignited a burner for the kettle. "Do you fancy drinking something you'll actually enjoy? Tea?"
You lean against the island, unintentionally allowing a bit of the dress neckline to droop.
“Tea will work.”
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In front of you were the only signs of his old self. Metals and ribbons encased behind a glass frame, hung up in the hall as a quaint display of his achievements. Below them, on the hall table, decorative mason jars; most with faux leaves and vines. You made your way up and down, admiring how the rustic, shipshape decor was placed with such intention.
As your gaze panned left to right, you made it to the end of the display. Interest arose when you examined the last jar; a small mason with a bullet inside, littered with indents and some bits chipped away. Your mind swirled with scenarios as you put together the story told in front of you. A career so intense, so all-important; it was difficult to imagine the man in the kitchen enmeshed in one.
In the distance, the kettle whistles, effectively ripping you from your peering. Before he can shout for you, you’ve walked around the corner, ready to claim a drink your mouth will savor.
“Here you are.” Across the marble countertop, Price slid forward the mug.
A green tea of sorts, with a bit of cream on top and a dust of cinnamon. The presentation is nowhere near seamless, with its lopsided spoonful of foam and granules that ended up sprinkled unevenly through his fingers. Still, there was nothing wrong with a drink that looked homemade.
“Matcha?” You ask, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the mug, then using your supporting hand to hold the small plate it’s resting on.
Price glances at the tea box through the frosted glass cabinets then nods. When he presses his own mug to his lips, the tea is ebony and swirling like a cyclone from the sugar he mixed in.
From the corner of your eye, you skim past him and gaze out the window overlooking the deep copper sink. Through its rectangular pane, you see the string of herbs and leaves grown — well-tended and used often in his cooking, surely.
You point a free finger towards the fresh greens outside, “do you grow it?”
He lets out a rumbly chuckle and shakes his head, “if I could. Matcha plants are loads of work.” You now spot the pasty green box poking through the cabinet, which you hadn’t noticed when too occupied with the herb planters.
You mutter a ‘hm’ in response and raise the porcelain rim to your lips, feeling the steam scald the tip of your nose and Cupid's bow. The vegetal fragrance of the green tea soothes your senses — just before the spice of cinnamon gives them a right hook.
To keep your eyes from tearing, you close them and take your first sip. It’s thicker than you anticipated, coating your mouth and throat as you swallow, yet the taste is pleasant and earthy.
Whatever John had done to prepare it, he did it correctly. That much you could tell.
Before your throat can sizzle with aftertaste, the cold foam dollop calms it. From grassy, fresh matcha to a striking sweet cream.
“You have a bit…” Price motions to his mouth, an index pointed toward the left corner of his mouth. The cream is too airy for you to notice any accidental residue. You’ve missed the swear twice before he sighs and raises a crumpled napkin to your lips.
You meet gazes while he dabs at your bottom lip, feeling any confidence seep from you in an instant.
The sweet aroma fleeted instantly with the proximity, now with your nostrils flooded with his fragrance. Smokey and masculine; something rum-adjacent, mixed sinfully with cedarwood and the earthy smell of crisp soil. And then, lastly, there are the pungent remnants of his minty mouthwash, which is slightly diluted by the black tea he swallowed.
This close, you can trace every wrinkle and line with your eyes. While you’re engulfed in his presence, he’s observing. Smothered and suffocating with the weight of diminishing continence. The vermillion sundress, the tray of goodies in the corner of his vision, the twitch of your lips as he dabs and drags with the linen.
Price has yet to notice his other hand, grabbing the tip of your chin with a feather-like hold.
But you have, blinking rapidly a few times while the chalky foam is rid of your mouth, which might as well have been thrown in the trash along with the napkin — because you’ve turned reticent.
“There.” He whispers, mouth curling into a polite glow.
Ultimately, your haze falters. Your senses unfreeze when you’re no longer swarmed by his aroma, or his tender touch when he walks back around the breakfast bar. Warmth coaxes your fingers, still emanating from the tea snug in your grip — even after the milky olive-tinted liquid has gone tepid.
With a perpetually widened gaze, you raised your mug to finish off the rest of your tea. This neighborly visit had played out differently than you expected. You savored about half of the lukewarm brew, letting it mellow the pining that arose when he got close. Sweaty fingers fumbled around the handle when you tipped the cup again, sending a gush of tea down the front of your outfit. The fabric stained instantaneously as the warmth soaked in, whilst the sugary cream made the dress cling in an unsavory, sticky fashion.
You cursed audibly and darted your gaze towards him apologetically, setting the mug down with a clammer. “I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling an ocean’s wave of dishonor pummel through you at once.
John, who was mid-cleanup, jerked his head to the side when he heard the commotion. When greeted with the frazzled expression, he made an effort to soothe it. It wasn’t your fault; it was only some overpriced, boxed infusion that had collected dust in the back of his cabinet. 
Besides, you were in front of him, now in soaked clothing and apologizing profusely.
“Don’t apologize. Happens to the best of us.” That damn smile again. The wrinkles around his eyes, the almost all-knowing look of understanding in them.
He fisted your discarded mug, turning on the sink.
“The washroom is down the hall, in my room. It has a better mirror than the half.” Price wavers through his instructions, overcome with his own helping of uncertainty. Nothing had gone explicitly wrong, per se, but it didn’t mean they went right. But they never do, do they? There’s a reason he decided on a life of recluse, even more, a reason for him to befriend seclusion so closely.
Your footsteps retreated down the hall, passing the picture frames and decor you had been admiring moments ago. John scrubbed both mugs until they were full of suds and then rinsed, placing them on the dish rack afterward. He made it a habit to never leave used dishes to sit in the sink.
Quickly, he walked through the open door of his bedroom. Golden beams peeked out from the gap under the door, where you were frantically blotting the stains. He pulled the string on his bedside lamp, illuminating a majority of the moody, rustic bedroom. His fingers hooked around the handle, gently sliding open the pocket doors of his closet.
His t-shirts hung neatly on the left wall, whilst his fewer button-ups remained on the opposite. With a quick hum, he took hold of his baggiest navy blue tee, draping it over his forearm. From inside his dresser, he grabbed a pair of sweats that were tight on him — enough to prevent them from slipping down your legs.
Inside the bathroom, you alternated between being hunched over the counter in embarrassment, to rubbing your dress profusely. The damp washcloth was doing little to the fabric, which was a few shades darker from the liquid, compressing tighter against you. It wasn’t a flattering look, nor was it a comfortable fit anymore. Akin to the feeling of maple syrup residue on your hands after breakfast, only it was covering the front of your body.
Would it have been better to spill on his authentic wood floors? Was it completely selfish to prefer it, to spare the discomfort of a soaked garment?
Two subdued knocks on the door halted your useless wiping. “I have some clothes.” The gruff voice spoke through the door, yet remained as placid as it was in the kitchen.
“Oh, no need,” you replied dismissively through the door. “I can change at home.” You tossed the wet towel into the small hamper. When you opened the door, Price remained standing there, fresh clothing in hand.
The thought was there, and now were the actions to go along. You didn’t want to change at home or be walking down that dirt avenue at all. At this hour, home would be lonesome and still, regardless of whether your new neighbor was fanciable or not.
But he was; that made him all the harder to decline.
Void of any attempt on John’s part, his gaze scanned the mess that covered you. This time, more obvious than he would’ve liked. It felt wrong; downright distasteful and discouraging, to do so.
Howbeit, he did — and you sensed it this time. The unavoidable gawking at your snug gown, devouring his dwindling abstinence. No unease, imminence, or desire to dismiss yourself ever came. Not like it did with men on the street, who resembled that of depraved, hungry hounds.
John wasn’t corrupted; behind the lust, there was something more, something too complex to daydream.
“Nonsense.” He persisted, the clothes remaining outstretched. “It’s raining. And you’ve got to walk quite a way, don’t you?”
You leaned your head against the thick wood of the door, unable to spit out another worthy excuse. “Thank you. Really.” With a nod, you took the folded clothing, setting the pieces on the countertop beside you. As he accepted your answer and turned on his heels, you mustered the gut to speak again.
“And, John?” You stepped through the threshold of the door, “if I go home in these clothes, you probably won’t get them back.”
“I’ll keep the dish, then.” This time, he didn’t back away after stepping closer. “Do we have a deal?” His breathing picked up subtly but was noticeable against your face. When faced with his proximity before, you fumbled a mug. But now, you were certain of every ache and desire troubling you.
Whoever leaned in first became a fleeting afterthought. It didn’t matter, not while your mouths and noses clashed together. He was the first to give way, to tilt his head to relieve the pressure on your nose, which allowed him more mobility.
Your knees nearly buckled when his hands cupped your cheeks — how the calloused prints of his fingers felt against the opposing texture of your face. It felt natural; a relief to every urge you’ve stifled from the moment he answered his door.
Before you broke away for air, he removed his lips while still maintaining his tender hold on your face.
“Are you sure about this…?” Price posed, pressing his forehead against yours. You exchanged each other's exhales, cloaking your racing thoughts with a suffocating, dizzy effect.
Still, regardless of your thundering heartbeat and draining lungs — you uttered the quickest yes of your lifetime. This time, you turned your head when lips and teeth clashed, back colliding with the door. Your lips parted as you panted, letting his tongue swipe along your lips, leaving them saturated. His beard audibly scraped against your jaw and down your neck, producing goosebumps as you shivered.
Though his movements weren’t theatrical or jaw-dropping, they left you unable to lose focus. His hands wrapped around the sleeves of the ruined gown, rolling the fabric down while he dropped into a kneel before you.
A need to provide, to satisfy, to satiate. No teases, no dramatics; just utter experience. The only terms you would associate with him currently.
The clingy fabric peeled off like a sticky bandage, peeling to expose the damn stain from cleavage to your pelvis. John’s briefly raised to suckle between your breasts, cleaning off every drop of the tea that had soaked through the discarded dress. Down; sternum to belly button, savoring the small remnants of the sweet cream.
“So beautiful,” he muttered, lips pressed to your lower stomach. His hands moved and kneaded your hips in worship. Despite his face hovering in front of your panties, and how he was actively trailing kisses along your thighs — his voice never changed. Not cloaked with blind lust or hesitation.
Admiration, purely; for you, maybe only your body. But you didn’t care about that — or couldn’t — right now. John was utterly too much, From light conversation to huddling in the restroom, then to being backed against the door. One hand rested on your lower stomach, as a means of keeping your back against the door. The other rolled your undergarments down at a sluggish pace, beard and lips following the falling undies.
Your neck craned down, seeing them fall to your ankles, shortly before the cold breeze hit your exposed core — emanating from the bathroom window left slightly ajar. The muscles in your thighs tense when Price’s tongue finally makes brief contact with it, blown pupils still staring up at you.
His tongue lay flat against your clit for a few moments until saliva rolled down his tongue, allowing him to delve deeper. Further on, he would kiss and suckle on the bundle of nerves, and you were sure your grip on the knob couldn’t have been firmer. Experience truly was the right word to describe him, earlier and now more than ever.
Along your slit, he plunged inside, growly breaths vibrating against your sensitivity. Your taste coated his mouth, and your natural scent drove him mad; like no other partner he’d had before.
“Wanna feel you—” Price slurped again, then pulled away to finish, “—clench around my fingers. You want that, sweetheart?” His tongue glistened under the spotty lighting, his buff chest still heavy. He was goddamn distracting in this state, more than he was before.
After a flash of muteness, you nodded your head. As if you could pass up that offer; if it was an offer at all.
True to his word and the desires racing through his head, John slipped his middle finger inside your entrance. Instantly, the appendage glided against the soaked, puffy walls of your cunt, causing him to chuckle with satisfaction.
Even the smallest pump forced a whine from your lips, though you were unsure what you should be pleading for. Tonight, this feeling was already unsurpassed.
“Another, huh? Can’t fuckin’ say no to you, can I?” Next entered his ring finger, the thick digits stretching you out delectably, in ways you could only dream of executing with your own two fingers.
His name slipped out when he curled them against your sweet spot, daring your knees to buckle and send both of you tumbling. His eerily observant nature had him anticipating the sudden weakness, and his other hand holding you in place never once faltered. Finding his shaggy hair, your fingers intertwined with the locks, purely to be holding onto anything of his when you inevitably come undone.
Back to slobbering, his tongue ran laps against your swollen clit, the tip of his nose knocking against it with every pass. Each flick, each thrust making your back arch wildly against the door. And once again, as he anticipated, you ended up clenching around his fingers like he wanted.
So tense, it was any wonder Price was able to keep moving his fingers. His erection pressed against his thigh, the tight denim making him resist the urge to squirm. Oh, how you sounded, how you felt. His years of stamina and strength training will surely be tested once it’s his cock filling you up instead.
The nub throbbed and visibly pulsed when he combined a well-timed lick and curl all at once, plunging you off that cliff of release. Around his head, your thighs clamped tighter than the fingers digging into his scalp. It was clear you’d be reeling this feeling for days to come, probably a climax to forever be unbeaten during your life.
Your heart hammered against your rib cage, your lungs exhausted and working overtime as you sucked in desperate breaths. “Fuck— that was…” You breathed, unable to articulate any one of the feelings assaulting your system.
The leer tugging at the corners of his soaked mouth wasn’t smug, it was pleased; pleasantly. Slowly, he raised himself, holding each side of your face. Price slurred, “You sound lovely when you cum, y’know that?” Before you could lift a finger to answer again, his dangerous tongue swirled around yours, spreading the taste of yourself against your taste buds.
Your sticky inner thighs glided when he blindly led you out of the threshold, collapsing atop you. The frame creaked under the weight of both of you, the mattress now with a crater in the center of it.
“Want you to fuck me, John. Please.” You pleaded between kisses, unconsciously wrapping a leg around his waist for any friction on the mess he caused. The sensitive tip of his cock ached, despite only being rocked against through the thick denim.
As if your sounds of pleasure weren’t divine enough, that fucking word was. Please. So desperate, so distraught. If he had the restraint or the patience, Price might coax a few more begs out of you — but those were the two things he didn’t have currently.
Briefly, his touches ceased when he leaned back. Swiftly unbuckling his belt, he slid out of his jeans and tossed them aside; discarded, now the only clutter in the bedroom. Soaked through his grey briefs, a stain of pre-cum, merely proving how badly he needed you. The same as his jeans, he rid himself of them, erection upright and freed.
Girthy and curved upward a hair, capable of reaching deeper than his fingers. Down his happy trail, which you got a peak of during the first encounter, were his trimmed pubes. The same shade of brown as the hair littering his chest. You examined further, spotting a few prominent veins bound to drive you mad.
Any longer without it, and you were willing to start pawing at him. The stars must’ve been aligned, because pleading wasn’t necessary anymore.
“Spread your legs f’me.” You did, as swiftly as he uttered the command. As wide as comfortable, you exposed the mess of your pussy to him, reflecting off the cool moonlight peaking through his blinds. Glistening and twitching from the first climax, remnants still left around your inner thighs. “Gonna fill you up, fuck you proper, hm? Have you clenching around me?”
As if his fingers weren’t euphoric enough. Gnawing on your bottom lip until it ached, you nodded your head eagerly, hooking an arm around your leg to keep the shaky limb steady.
Price gripped the base of his cock, guiding it toward your entrance. The tip slipped in as smooth as honey, coated in slick and strings of his saliva leftover. With a drenched glide, the rest of him dipped inside, until his pelvis was against yours.
Entirely crammed inside, your head lolled back against the comforter, reeling in the painless stretch of his girth. And how, before the movements began, the natural curve of his cock had him snug against your cervix, kissing all the right places within you. Your fingers trailed downward, beginning to rub circles around your responsive clit, the wet clicks combining with the squelch of his thrusts.
Whatever noises came from you were all-natural and uncontrollable, from a sensual place within you never trespassed. John grunted with every tighten around his length, pumping deeply and with more force. His thoughts earlier rang true, how little restraint you left him with. Already, he could’ve finished inside of you — just from the view of your body alone.
Breasts bouncing, hips jiggling, the sounds of your soaked core, the expression on your face as he got rougher. “Such a good girl, takin’ every inch of me,” his words came out grunts, matching the pace of his jabs.
“You’ll cum for me again, and let me hear those bloody sounds, won’t you? Fuckin’ touching yourself, all needy.” For him, the words acted as a distraction until you came undone for a second time. For you, it enhances your stimulation tenfold — his voice was like nectar, yet it rumbled through the room like thunder.
It mixed with the real thunder outside, which you caught bits of between everything. The rain he said the area was due for, faintly coming down in the distance, and surely headed this way by the time your legs shook.
With a soft nudge, he shimmied closer between your thighs, chest inches from yours, and allowed him to slam against your cervix. Your fingers had gone erratic, desperately teasing the bundle of nerves the closer you got to release.
And John, sure of this, allowed himself to focus on a fraction of his pleasure. You twitched around his length, swallowing every last inch of him. Arousal dribbled from you to the bed, soaking into the navy blue duvet.
When the coil of pleasure began bursting at the seams, his name slipped out again, in between your gasps for oxygen. How his thrusts had turned as sloppy as your fingers, every jerk of his pelvis knocking the wind out of you. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist, feet hooking under his backside to keep him locked in — as if the thought of stopping had ever crossed his mind.
Thighs quivering like your fingers were, you dug your fingernails into his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in his flesh. Yet another string of moans poured out of you, which tipped John over the edge same edge you’d tumbled off twice. His balls contracted while they drained, strings of pearly cum painting you on the inside.
Warmth filled you, from your tummy to your core, his length swimming in his own sloppy release. Your constricted ab muscles slowly eased up as the aftermath of orgasm faded, leaving you breathless and spent. His agape mouth dipped down as he withdrew his softening cock from you slowly, careful to not leave you any more sensitive than you already were.
The kiss distracted you and served as a reminder of what this hookup meant. Not regretful, not meaningless. Something lingered in the air, beyond the smell of sweat and sex.
Though his body begged to collapse atop you and fall fast asleep, you deserved to be taken care of. Price planted a parting kiss on your jaw, making the short trip to the bathroom to grab one of his fresh washcloths.
Silently, you observed his tenderness take over — even though it never left him. With a few featherlike swipes, he wiped away the messy aftermath of arousal, saliva, and cum, disposing of the used towel somewhere in the darkness.
You fought to stay awake, feeling his weight sink beside you once more after some squirming around. Eventually, John successfully got you and himself under the thick comforter, weighted and radiating as much warmth as your bodies. An arm snaked under your head, your back against his chest. The other arm around your waist, keeping you right up against his soft body.
He waited until he saw the rise and fall of your frame, the faint breaths of deep sleep before he decided that was permission enough to do the same.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Insects chirped loudly, enough to stir you awake.
Fresh morning light peaked through the blinds, which had been opened. Through your twitching lids, the intensity made your face scrunch. One hand reached up and rubbed them, while the other palmed beside you.
No sign of your neighbor, if he can have that title after last night.
His side had gone cold, and anything that was askew had been picked up or set back in place. Sitting yourself up, you groaned from hunger and the soreness in your legs. Beside the dresser, were the sweatpants and t-shirt he was going to lend you yesterday. Still neatly folded, placed with care on one of his leather armchairs.
You peeled the comforter off your sticky skin, coated with a layer of sweat from the sunlight on you. Usually overheating would’ve had you lying awake and sizzling, but it was clear that Price had thoroughly tired you out.
In addition to the shirt and pants, he provided a clean pair of boxers — since the ones you came over wearing had been long soiled. And nowhere to be found in the bathroom, where you made your best effort to fix up your appearance.
Aside from the sounds of nature, there was the hum of an appliance when you opened the bedroom door. Down the hall, you passed the dryer; the root of the tumbling sound. Through the small window, was your cherry sundress and underwear, half dry and spinning in circles.
Your bare feet adjusted to the cold wood, taking small, sleepy strides down the hall.
Into the living room, you laid eyes on the shelves around his television. Since you spent most of the visit on the porch, in the kitchen, and obviously the bedroom, you hadn’t had time to inspect this area closely.
Custom-built shelves frame the television. Rustic, meticulous decor placed on them. Some were store-bought, others looked to be souvenirs and memories. Stepping closer, you spotted a few framed photos; four soldiers, with Sharpie written on the corner: 1-4-1.
On the bright side, there is one mystery solved about his past. Military, or SAS, which you spot on their patches. Shuffling along, your gaze sets on the next section. More medals and ribbons, each most likely with their own significance.
Most notably, a plaque displaying his full name and title: Capt. Jonathan Price.
Another mystery solved. Why he had been so observant, so skilled at asking his questions. It all began to make sense, especially the closer you examined the relics. With a slight hm, you decided it best to stop snooping on the man’s possessions and continue your search for him.
No sign of Zeus in the house either, which isn’t shocking since he’s practically sewn to John’s hip.
Through the kitchen you go, finally picking up on the faint voice outside. Through the window overlooking the copper sink, you see Price tending to the herbs you pointed out the previous day, seemingly making conversation with his canine.
You continue on, opening the creaky patio door and shutting it behind you. You walk along the stained wood deck, rounding the corner. He’s in the middle of kneeling down, meticulously planting another herb or seasoning for his mini-garden.
“Looking good, Captain.” You startle him slightly, leaning a shoulder against the paneling of the cabin.
Price’s head perks up, snapping to the side at the sudden sound. And Zeus predictably treks over for your undivided attention, and you’re unable to refuse. The golden walks beside you when you approach further, and John gets to his feet with a small grunt.
“Snooping again, are we?” His lips curl into a harmless smile, dirt-covered fingers playing with the backs of your hands.
You shrug your shoulders, unable to conceal the feelings of fluster. Being put on the spot was something you’d have to get used to, that’s for sure. “Maybe I was. Just a little bit.”
“Careful now, sweetheart.” His voice molds into that of a superior, which you hadn’t heard from him yet. Was it twisted how much it excites you? Price continued, “or I might have you calling me Captain from here on.”
With a light scoff, you muster the last bits of confidence left in you.
“Is that a promise?”
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♡‧₊˚✧˖° divider cred. - cafekitsune
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vanillaberrychills · 12 days
Note
wolf könig kidnapping the precious sheep hybrid that farmer price owns
cw: hybrids, smut, slightly possessive König, secretly sharing reader (lmk if more needed)
an ;; not well written, currently out but i wanted to write this last night:)) love this // not proof read
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— Price was the local farmer known for indulging in his ridiculous expensive hybrids. He had his boys; a large group of fuck off sized hybrids that usually kept the local wolf and coyote hybrids miles away. Usually.
Price did eventually make the mistake of indulging in a new hybrid, one he had to keep hidden from his horny dog hybrids. A sweet little sheep hybrid that wanted nothing more than to be pet and dressed up pretty. Price absolutely loved to bathe you, making your wool all fluffy and snow white, he'd dress you up in spring colored ribbons and feed you your favorite snacks.
And of course, there was no harm in letting his washing hands roam a little further, rubbing a thick finger tip against the little bundle of nerves that was your clit. Your sweet sounds bleating out in his ear while he stroked the flesh of your ass with his opposite hand. His poor little sheep, being turned into a moaning little mess, a puddle of your own arousal staining the soft blanket under you.
Though, maybe his favorite thing about you was how easy you spread your legs for him. He kept you all safe and protected in your fancy little barn. It was no wonder all you could do was shyly "meh". Your slick folds so easily oozing with arousal while he finger fucked you. His thumb would circle on the fluffy wool of your pubic hair, so soft and easily dampened by his prodding digits. You were just perfect.
Which just made you the perfect target for that fucking wolf hybrid. Price had security cameras, he knew that giant mutt was sneaking in to shove his nose against your naked cunt. But what could he do about it? He kept away the other coyotes and wolves better than his dumb brute dog hybrids.
However, König was just too sweet to you. Sure, he just randomly appeared in the barn one day, and he did try to eat you that one time, but he gave you the sweetest little licks to your pretty cheeks. Huffing greedily at the sweet scent of your flesh while your little ears and tail flickered and swayed with shy pleasure. All your prey instincts told you to submit and hide from him. But surely someone this sweet wouldn't do anything bad you, right?
He even protected you from rainy days, his big warm body wrapped around your cold little form. A string of sweet compliments and occasional nips to your flesh making you all the more compliant to him. while he shoved his face against your cunt, after all, just a little lick was what he deserved for being so generous, right?
König really did try his best to be gentle with you, to not fuck you too hard, and to not just steal you away from that mean farmer who kept touching his sweet little sheep hybrid. And it was admittedly, really hard. You were just so sweet, and gullible. He couldn't count on one hand all the times he had lied to you and gotten away with it. The blood on his back? Just some juice, schatz, don't worry. König knew it wouldn't be hard, but he had a good thing going, so why waste it?
König's usually rough hands were so gentle and sweet on you as long as you let him rut his fat knot into you. letting you touch the most sensitive parts of his skin to show how much he adored and trusted you. Doing his absolute best to make you his one and only mate, giving you his seed until your belly was swell with his pups. A ring of your arousal building up around his cock in a white, creamy substance, your eyes glossy with pleasure tears and cheeks flushed a shade darker from him shoving you full of his warm spend. And when he finished? He'd probably fall asleep on top of you until the sun rose, where he would mysteriously disappear until sunset.
In the morning, Price would come check on you, doing a thorough inspection of your sore cunt, grumbling about that fucking wolf hybrid trying to breed you. So much for his own personal hybrid.
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ivyppoison · 25 days
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THEY LIKE THE WAY I GRIND
pairings. cowboy!leon kennedy ⠀𝒙⠀ farmer’s granddaughter!fem!reader [ au ]
𐙚 warnings : slightly ooc leon ( bc he’s a southern boy in this fic obviously ), oblivious reader, suggestive content, derogatory language
words. 1.311k
note. am i finally satisfied i managed to write this fic ?! yes, yes i am. this came to me in a dream so i decided to write a fic about it because why not. i have an obsession for southern boys and their silly goofy accents even tho their ancestors fought for slavery & i wouldn’t be here today :3 ── yours sincerely, maxine
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The family barn was some sort of fever dream for you. You’d only visited once or twice, and every time you left, you promised yourself you wouldn’t come back to the outskirts of your grandparents' home town. However, one thing, one sole person kept you coming back. 
A childhood friend, and possibly even a sweetheart who had you wrapped around his fingers ( those said fingers you wished were somewhere else ), your first kiss, your first time, the muse of your daydreams.
With his star studded boot, and dusted cowboy hat. Calloused hands and a whiskey-laced tongue.
Leon motherfucking Kennedy.
The soft, grassy and dewy smell of the countryside suffocated you as you stepped out of the farmhouse, making your way over to the barn where you could see Leon working.
You let your mind wander, your eyes flickering over his body, his bare arms flexing as he carried out his work, his blond strands falling into his face before he flicked it backwards.
Walking further towards him, you leaned against the fence with your legs crossed at the ankles, your nimble fingers playing with the rings that adorned your fingers as you waited for him to notice your presence.
A few moments passed before his blue eyes locked with yours, his gaze flickering up and down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs before meeting your stare once more.
“What are you doing out here all by yourself, pretty girl?” He asked, his Southern accent drawn out long, dropping the hay bale before dusting his hands and walking towards you.
“I came to see you of course,” you answered, your stomach softly fluttering at the close proximity of his body to yours. You could tell he was distracted by the clothes you decided to put on today: a pair of denim shorts and a flimsy blouse ( with a few buttons undone ). 
“After thinking you abandoned me for that big city of yours, you finally came back, didn’t you darlin’?” He asked, his eyes staring you down as the corners of his lips twitched up into a smirk. “Did you come back to see your grandparents, or did you come back to see me?”
You held your bottom lip between your teeth as you searched your brain for an answer.
“I came back to surprise them, Leon,” you lied, letting out a small sigh escape your lips, as you watched him search you for the truth.
“So, you didn’t come back to see me?” He feigned disappointment, placing his hand on his chest as he placed his hand on the fence beside your head.
“Of course I did,” you whispered, your voice faltering slightly as you started dumbly at him. 
The proximity of his body brought your mind into a trance rather than out as he closed the small distance between the two of you.
Leon’s eyes trailed down from yours to your lips as he leaned in slowly causing you to close your eyes. Before your lips met, however, he quickly pulled away, patting you lightly on the cheek as he watched you. 
“A lot has changed since you last came,” he continued as if nothing had happened, his hands resting on his hips as he looked to the side. “I have something to show you.”
Your eyes lit up at this as your fingers played with the hem of your shorts, following him as he led you across the barn to where the horses were kept.
Leon let out a whistle, searching for a particular horse before reaching for your hand. He placed your hand on the animal, smiling as you did so.
“Guess her name,” he said, watching you with an intensive smile.
You raised your eyebrows as you thought of an answer, shaking your head once you gave up.
“Named this beauty after you,” he explained, his gaze flickering over the horse as he stroked its forehead.
Your expression turned into one of a smile as you felt extremely flattered. 
“You named a horse after me?” You laughed, copying his actions.
“Gives me a reason to say your name,” he replied, “but now you’re back, I have more of a reason to say it, don’t I, pretty girl?” 
“Maybe we’ll get you on her, and you can go for a ride,” he suggested, crossing his arms as he looked over at you. 
“I don’t know how to ride horses, Leon,” you replied, drawing small patterns on its skin as you looked over at him.
“Why? I thought you were a natural after last time,” he replied, winking at you as you let out a sigh. “Maybe, later today, I could teach you how to ride. And I’m not talking about this darlin’ right here,” he added, whispering the last bit in your ear as he placed his thumbs in the belt holes of his jeans. “You could practise on something else.”
His eyes locked on something behind you as he started walking away.  
“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Remember my offer,” he said, facing you before turning around and leaving.
You seriously needed a drink.
For the rest of the evening, you spent it in the comfort of your bed, sipping on a beer you took from the fridge as your mind recalled every moment that happened with him.
A foreign sound brought your attention to your window, pebbles knocking at the glass, as you decided to open it and peer down.
There he was, the devil himself, still clad in his clothes from earlier, a small smile lacing his lips as he noticed your head poking through the window.
He managed to make his way up to your room, crawling through the gap in the window before making sure his hat was secured to his head.
“You came,” you hummed, a grin adorning your face as you watched him.
“I’m not going to be the only one ‘coming’ tonight,” he replied, a smug expression as he closed the gap between you.
Your heart pounded in your chest, knocking at the enclosure of your ribs, his hands holding you at your waist as he finally pressed his lips to yours.
Almost unconsciously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down as you deepened the kiss, a small gasp escaping your mouth as he bit lightly on your bottom lip. 
Your hand trailed down to the hem of his jeans, your finger looped in his belt hole as you pulled him closer.
“Getting confident, ain’t we, sweetheart?” He asked, staring down at you before taking off his hat and placing it on your head. “You look so pretty. I bet you’d look gorgeous riding my dick like the little cowgirl you are,” he whispered, causing a rupture in your stomach as it fluttered, your cunt getting wetter as he went on, addicted to the sound of his voice. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as he kneaded the skin of your hip with his thumb, caressing small circles with his thumb, his lips nipping at the crook of your neck causing you to let out a small whimper.
“Be quiet for me, darlin’. Don’t want your grandparents waking up to the sound of their precious granddaughter getting railed by their farm boy,” he added with a small chuckle, looking up to see you practically crumbling under his touch.
“Come here,” he smiled, leading you towards the bed as he laid down on his back, resting his weight on his elbow as he looked over at you whilst his free hand toyed with his belt, unbuckling it before tugging it off. 
Watching him like this sent a shiver down your spine, the feeling accumulating in your stomach as you pressed your thighs together. Your fingers began to unbutton your blouse, earning a low whistle from Leon.
“Atta girl, you know exactly what to do.”
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slutfactory · 11 months
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‘MILKING’ COW. ★ w. ushijima x m!reader. [requested!]
request by anon. “Ayo, idk if ur reqs are open, but can i request a cow Ushijima fic? Kinda down bad for him. Nothing specific so do whatever! Ty!
warnings. cow!ushi + m!farmer!reader, animal features (cow ears n horns), light overstimulation. nothin much tbh, just soft(?) sex w ushi. <3
author's note. same, anon. same. we love ushi gushi on this blog. also, soft boi hours + horny hours actually go pretty well together?? who would've thunk it?
<500 words yeh kinda short
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you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something about this felt oddly.. backwards..??
ushijima, as he had been doing for the past fifteen minutes, whorishly bounced up and down on your cock. even after both of you having orgasmed not too long ago, he didn't stop—
—oh. right. he was milking you. that's what it was.
wet plap noises, along with wakatoshi's mewls of pleasure filled the room, echoing against the walls. feeling a bit too sensitive, you stopped him, holding his hips in place when he lowered himself. the sight of your beloved, prized cow breeding himself on your cock and moaning like a slut was almost enough to make you cum again. right then and there.
the olive haired man looked at you, eyes filled with pure lust and desire. “i wan’ more.. please-.. ” he whined, squirming on your lap—you stifled a groan at this. “milking master feels so good.. ”
your dick twitched, hearing ushijima's pleas. he was so cute, and that made you want to ruin him. but, he wanted to be the one to do the milking this time—and after hearing him beg, you just couldn't say no. honestly, how could you? why would you?
releasing ushi's hips, you gave him an approving nod. he let out a few whines, quiet at first, but slowly increasing in volume, as he began to move again; at the same speed he did before you stopped him. you in turn, let out your own share of grunts and moans, much to his pleasure.
apparently, ushijima was also sensitive after orgasming earlier– or at least you assumed that from how his inner walls twitched and tightened around your shaft much more than before. adorable. “gonna cum already, baby?” he nodded, holding onto your shoulders a little tighter. “me too. let's cum together, 'kay?” you purred.
about thirty seconds of sloppy riding passed before ushijima came, spilling his load on his and your stomachs. this did not stop him, though—he was overstimulating himself now, but he wanted you to cum inside of him.
you of course granted his wish, as his cunt tightened around you as he continued riding you; which almost immediately brought you to orgasm. a strained groan left your lips as you did so. wakatoshi let out a broken whine as he felt your hot seed filling him up inside. “'s so hot.. ngh.. ” he muttered while trying to catch his breath. “master felt good too, right?”
also breathless, you chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “of course, honey.” again, you chuckled, seeing his ears twitch slightly as his face lit up—seemingly with happiness and a bit of embarrassment. ushi buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you tried to ignore one of his horns lightly stabbing at your skin.
“c'mon. we have to clean up. i'll make your favorite food for dinner, alright?” you pat him on the head. a content 'mm.' was all you got in response.
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brnesblogposts · 10 days
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what i’ve been reading lately !
a compilation of fics ive been reading the past couple weeks, multiple from the same authors but i figured i would include my faves and you can check the rest of their works out :))
they’re all fluff or angst fics :)
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close call and bad puns - @skaye44
flirty!bucky | fluff
metal arm brrr - @bombsonboard
grumpy!bucky | fluff
off limits - @ellemj
mafia!bucky | fluff + implied smut
a touch of softness - @rookthorne
nurse!bucky | fluff
damnit steve - @skaye44
idiots in love | fluff
home is where the heart is - @rookthorne
cute farmer!bucky | fluff + implied smut
lead us to temptation @asphalt-cocktail
religious reader ! | fluff + smut
happy birthday, jamie - @kittybeansbarnes
birthday boy bucky :’) | FLUFF
hypothetically speaking -@littleseasiren
fluff.
someone’s calling my name (it sounds like you) -@mellowsaturns
angst | hurt/comfort
this has to be perfect - @oneofstarkskids
birthday bucky fluff
don’t tell bucky - @lives-in-midgard
drunk reader fluff
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ghosts-post · 6 months
Note
I kinda wanna find out how yandere farmer would react to meeting and falling for bumblebee reader (maybe when they were selling them their leftover honey they made) only to find out later that they are with or at least very close to bear yandere.
This turned out much longer than I initially planned but hey! Hope you enjoy! Tw: drugged and kidnapping
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Immediately hit with the size difference. Bumblebee darling is tiny tiny compared to Colton! If you think you’re small next to bear yan imagine your tiny two foot ass standing next to a six three buff guy! But he loves it! It’s one of the things that makes him fall for you because he has a size kink. If you’re smaller than him or bigger than him it doesn’t matter he just wants a difference. And bumblebee darling is definitely a difference.
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Bumblebee reader that manages to make just a few too many jars of honey that can be finished before it solidifies so they decide that they’d sell it. They’ve seen other bees selling their honey before so surely they could too! They pack up their honey jars in a basket before setting off to find someone to sell them to. Was it a little scary going off on their own after spending so much time with Bern (bear yan) sure but they could do it!
Before long they could see as more and more trees and bushes of the forest faded away and instead they found themselves in front of a wooden fence that divided the fading of the forest and a green grassy pasture filled with different farm animal hybrids. They held their basket just a bit closer to their chest as they took a deep breath flying over the fence with ease. They let of a soft buzz before continuing on going over to one of the farm animals.
“Ah hello! I was wondering if you knew of a town nearby? I have a few extra honey jars and I was looking to sell them!”
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The barn animals lead them over to Colton and that’s how they ended up meeting each other! Colton immediately bought all the honey that bumblebee darling had on them because that boy was smitten immediately. You’re amazing tasting honey only added to his feelings because even if there’s a few ways to get to his heart food is definitely one of them!
He will immediately try to get you to move onto the farm. He has plenty of room in his house! He even has a spare bedroom that you could stay in. You said no? Well what about just one night? One night couldn’t hurt right? Besides it’s already getting dark and you don’t want to get hurt! You’re so small and he’s so big he could protect you!
Quietly celebrates when you say yes because it was in fact getting dark already and you didn’t feel like stumbling your way back into the forest in the dark. Colton leads you into his house and offers you food which he totally didn’t drug with sleeping pills. (He in fact did) and when you’re done with your food you’re confused why you suddenly felt tired and your body felt so sluggish you didn’t think you could move. Colton graciously offers to pick you up and take you to the spare bedroom but you don’t even make if a few feet in his arms before you pass out.
-
You groggily opened your eyes after you assumed you had fallen asleep not being able to remember what happened the night before after Colton offered to let you stay in his house for the night. Your body felt heavy like it was full of lead and exhausted despite just waking up from sleep. You went to shift your body a little but found you were unable to move much. Panic immediately set in and you seemed to jolt fully awake as you attempt to sit up. Once in an upright position you could see you were in a small bedroom on a bed much too large for you. You also discovered the reason you couldn’t move. Your hands and legs had been tied to the bed post with little slack only giving you the ability to sit up and lay down.
You could feel your body begin to tremble before the situation even fully registered in your mind but you suddenly froze solid when you heard loud heavy footsteps coming closer and closer to the door before it was pushed open with a soft creek. Standing in the doorway getting bathed in light from the hallway behind him was Colton.
“Ah you’re awake! You had me worried for a moment.” He came into the room carrying a tray with some flowers and different fruits in a bowl. “I got this from my garden. It’s not much but I’m sure it will do for now. I can go to the market later to get you other food if this isn’t what you want. After all I’m here to provide for you!”
You watched stunned and terrified as he came over to the bed and sat down next to you smiling sweetly like you weren’t tied to a bed after being drugged the night before from the same man. You’re voice despite trying to seem strong had a small shake to it. “What have you done? Why am I tied to this bed you need to let me go!”
His smile faltered slightly and he sighed as he set the tray down in your lap. “I’m only helping you, I’m doing what I need to protect you. You’ll understand one day. This is all meant to help, I’m helping you!”
You frowned and couldn’t stop the tears that started to form in the corner of your eyes before slowly dripping down your face. Overwhelmed with fear and sadness a buzzing noise erupted from you unable to make any other noise at the moment. Colton frowned more and gently pet the top of your head his hand basically engulfing your head. You could hear him sniffle trying to keep back his own tears at the sight of you.
“I promise one day you’ll forget all about this. We’ll have an amazing life together and you’ll be so happy. Just give it time.”
-
You stayed in that room for a few hours before you heard noise coming from outside the bedroom. Colton had left after feeding you to attend to his farms and said he wouldn’t be back till dinner time so you knew the rustling couldn’t be him. Besides the noises were to light and soft for a man his size. You looked over at the window terrified that something worse would somehow happen to you. Holding your breath you only continue to stare at the window in fright before a very recognizable chubby face appeared looking worried before smiling at you seeing you in the room. It was Bern. A sigh of relief left your mouth and a smile broke out on your face as the little bear pulled open the window and climbed into the room.
Before you could even say a word the door to the bedroom came flying open and Colton ran into the room looking nervous and scared. Not because someone had found you kidnapped and tied to a bed but because he didn’t know what this bear would do to you. He quickly lunged at the bear tackling him to the ground where they started to fight.
-
Colton did end up winning the fight but had gotten pretty damaged along the way by Bern’s claws and teeth. He had dragged the unconscious bear out of the room and didn’t come back to you for another hour. Too afraid to ask what happened to your one friend you stayed silent. At least there was no signed of extra blood that wasn’t from their fight. At least not that you could tell.
“Are you okay little bee? Don’t worry I took care of that little problem.”
What were supposed to be reassuring words had the complete opposite affect on you.
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jobean12-blog · 1 year
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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* Indicates Smut (18+ ONLY)
All stories are Joel Miller x reader unless otherwise specified :)
Something Sweet
What Comes After
Have A Little Pun
The Farmer’s Fancy * (soft!dark vibes)
Hot and Cold
When We Let Go *
Work in Progress
Game On
Boys in Bed with Books *(Chapter 23 with Joel)
The Right Technique 
Pickup Man (pre!outbreak Joel)
Mr. Right Next Door (pre!outbreak and neighbor Joel)
The Road to Love (Biker AU)
Simply Irresistible * (Biker AU)
Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Biker AU)
Wrangled * (Cowboy/Neighbor AU)
Motorcycle Man (Biker AU)
Reunited * (Pre!outbreak Joel)
Things I Always Wanted *
Get Your Engine Runnin’ (Biker AU)
Wild For You *(Biker AU)
Cowboy for Keeps (Cowboy AU)
Along for the Ride (Biker AU)
Fair Grounds for Love (Cowboy AU)
Let Our Hearts Ignite 
His to Protect (Biker AU)
A Storm in the Stars 
Driven By Desire* (Mechanic AU)
Lost and Found (Biker AU)
Something Wilder (Bucky x reader, Joel x reader)
Everything I Do
Angel of the Morning * 
Nook of Love
Wood you be Mine? (Lumberjack AU)
Slow and Steady (Lumberjack AU)
Dancin’ in the Dark
Make Me *
Fall In Love (Biker AU)
Can't Keep my Hands to Myself (Pre!Outbreak Joel)
Temptations* (Javier Peña x reader)
Dressed to Impress (Pre!outbreak Joel)
All Mine * (Biker AU)
Touch
Safe *
Cozy in Love (Lumberjack AU)
Collide (Javier Peña x reader)
Ride * (Javier Peña x reader)
Only Want You* (Javier Peña x reader)
A Place Made for Love (no!outbreak Joel)
Helping Hands
Nestled * (A/B/O au)
Tortured Love * (Javier Peña x reader)
Locked in Love
In It for the Long Ride (Biker!Joel AU)
Everything *(Friends to lovers with Joel)
Island Time * (Javier Peña x reader)
Fashionably Late
Promise Me *
Play To Win * (Javier Peña x reader)
Kiss to Kiss
Asking for Trouble *
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grimesgirll · 28 days
Text
you look forward to your car rides with rick.
you love your group too but sometimes a long car ride helps you unwind and recharge when your social battery is low and you just need to stare out the window at some grassy hills. besides, most days rick let you choose the soundtrack for your drive so you could DJ.
the only cds you'd had when you met up with the group were your signed cds that you couldn't part with: your parents' favorite foreigner album and taylor swift's sophomore album. after playing those albums front to back and hearing "double vision" one too many times enough to nearly ruin the song for you - and rick too probably - you set out to find some new tunes. you and daryl came back from a record store with a crate of old cds - it was a shame that you couldn't preserve the records but you had yet to run into a working record player that was worth your time. nonetheless, you found fleetwood mac albums, soft rock compilations, and music to mellow your trips.
you were itching to see him today. you’d been preoccupied mass producing buckwheat cereal and it was never a good time with him. you lavished the opportunity to spend time alone with the perpetually preoccupied rick grimes.
rick is waiting for you when you climb into the car. hickory curls frame his face which is sunburnt from all the time spent outside finishing up the harvest.
“hey,” you greet, pulling the car shut and shifting into your seat.
“hey there.” the sheriff farmer replies gruffly, hands already tensed and gripping the steering wheel.
you don’t need to ask what’s wrong because you already know: carl.
you love the boy but he wasn’t playing the part of the pacifist farm boy rick wanted him to. you don’t blame either of them. rick was right to rein carl in after he fired on that boy from woodbury as he surrendered.
that shook you up a bit too, but you remembered that carl was young and after weeks of planting, it won’t hurt to let the boy kill a walker or two on fence duty. there’s at least no reason for rick to give him shit about it.
rick’s so pent up though. it could be not just carl but the young infant going through the four month sleep regression.
settling judith for the night seemed to be a never ending battle, every battle a losing battle. you’d managed to take the little girl off of rick’s hands so he could sleep but she rarely went down for you either anymore. the baby that was once happy to fall asleep in your arms before bed was now fighting bedtime with everything she had.
your leader was saddled with stress. you can see it in the white of his knuckles against the steering wheel and how he doesn’t say anything before starting the car and pulling out of the prison, the gate being pulled behind your car by glenn and daryl.
almost forgetting to put in the new cd in your lap, your eyes are glued to the steering wheel. navigating whatever you have with rick is treacherous when just the sight of his taut hands has your breath picking up.
the two of you had no opportunity to get away lately. it’s not like you’re going to pester rick or jump him in the fields.
you’d already heard a, “later, sweetheart” earlier this week and it made you want to curl up into a ball.
waving the cd so rick can see, you ask if he likes the eagles. he shrugs. not much of a response.
“i’m gonna pop this in,” you inform him and lean over slightly to eject the cd currently residing in the media console - one of daryl’s buffalo springfield cds - to slide in an eagles’ greatest hits album.
he doesn’t pay much attention, just keeps his attention on the road and his knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel.
the sound of a guitar transitions you into the first song, which you think is aptly named. “take it easy” is exactly what rick should do but the song doesn’t seem to lighten his mood.
you two sit in silence. this isn’t unusual for you guys. sometimes you go quiet on parts of the drive.
rick breaks the silence.
“you like older stuff?”
i like older, rugged, handsome ex-cops with hands that can-
“i like all kinds of stuff.”
the older man laughs. “just wouldn’t have pegged you for an eagles girl.”
“it’s dad rock. don’t you like it?” you ask, catching his blue eyed gaze.
he slouches his shoulders. “they’re not bad. i would’ve liked if you put on that fleetwood mac cd a bit more.”
you grin. “i’ll remember to put their greatest hits cd on next.”
what you should be doing is reaching back to grab the cd booklet from the backseat but you’re fixated on rick. he’s driving, hyper focused on being aware of his surroundings again so he doesn’t notice the path your eyes take from his hands on the wheel to his pants. he doesn’t see your eyes cloud with thoughts of you two.
“pull over.”
“what?” rick questions, shooting you a skeptical look. “why?”
“i really have to go number one.”
he scoffs. “that’s why you wanna stop?” he shakes his head at you. you’re always asking him to stop on the side of the road for you to pee or find a dilapidated bathroom to go in. “next time, you gotta go before we leave.”
you nod, working overtime to conceal the early signs of victory on your lips. rick heeds your request and pulls into a rest stop parking lot, telling you to make it quick.
“be right back!” you chirp and use the bushes behind a gazebo to maintain your angle - and actually empty your bladder.
then you’re hopping back into the car and pressing the passenger side button to lock all of the doors. your hand stops rick’s when he goes to start the car, using the other to unbuckle his seatbelt. you’re in his lap by the time you’ve gotten his seat reclined by pushing down the lever.
the dark haired man is chiding your name. “what are you doin’?”
“helping you relax.”
“we gotta get on with our run.”
“i think you having fun is a bit more important.” you argue as you undo his belt. “why don’t you just relax?” you smile at him while you turn up the music slightly.
the sheriff rasps your name. “we have to stay vigilant.”
you send him a look that his him straining in his baby blue boxers. “rick, the doors are locked. we’ll hear a walker if they come up and we can drive away. just trust me and relax.”
it’s hard to argue when you’re tugging down his waistband, hands finding him and fondling him until the only sounds coming out of his mouth are pants.
opening up nice and wide, you slip him into your mouth. you smile when your tongue on the side of his length is met with a breathy moan.
one of rick’s hands are on the back of the center console and the other is pressed against the driver’s side door. between you wandering up and down his shaft with your tongue, he feels cornered. even more so when you take the opportunity to guide his hands to your hair.
it takes a few minutes but rick is no longer preoccupied with scanning the perimeter or heavy under the worry you could always sense under his skin, distracted by the curve of your ass. just leaning with his head back, basking in the soft rock playing and the woman so keen on relieving the pressure that weighed down on his reddened shoulders.
“such a good girl,” he’s gasping.
you move faster. suction your lips a little tighter. you haven’t been fooling around with rick for long but one thing is true without a doubt for him; he’s long and thick. you still haven’t mastered what must be some kind of witchcraft to fit all of him down your throat without gagging, but rick doesn’t care. as long as his dick in your mouth, he’s not complaining. especially not when you look up at him with his cock halfway down your throat.
success bubbles in your core and even with rick stuffed down your throat, you’re beaming. you’ve managed to get him to sit back and take a moment to enjoy himself - to enjoy you.
but you realize that your work is far from done when your favorite farmer cums down your throat, relishing the moment despite his still rock solid cock. he pulls your mouth off of him after you swallow, seemingly relishing the sight of you, lips in a pout in his lap.
“it’s your turn,” rick growls before fervidly dragging you to the backseat to pin your hips down and return the favor.
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chimpanzeedotcom · 3 months
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Me to my boy best friend while we’re in the trenches during World War One: in another life we’d be scallywags
Him: can you just say I’d be the prettiest girl in town and you’d be the farmers son with soft hands like a normal person you retard
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gurugirl · 8 months
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A Good Boy | 4. A Mistake
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Summary: Y/n goes to an event with Leo for Valentine's Day and Harry's upset. Hurt feelings lead to a messy fallout.
Note: This is stepmon!reader x stepson!harry - both are adults in this story but don't read if you don't like it.
Word Count: 12,565
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, inappropriate & forbidden relationship, age gap, cheating, lying, angst
A Good Boy Masterlist
“M’not ready to leave,” Harry’s words were muffled as he spoke with his face smushed into the soft part of Y/n’s inner thigh. “I can skip my first class. I can skip them all.”
She laughed. He was adorable with wild curls and flushed cheeks. She almost gave in. Told him to just stay with her all afternoon and she’d skip tennis practice. They could finish off all those strawberries they bought on Saturday at the farmer’s market. But she knew better. And so did he. Their weekend had been nothing short of spicy and fun.
“You can’t skip your classes, Harry. As much as I’d love to laze here with you all morning we can’t.”
He sighed and laid his chin over the top of her thigh as he looked up at her. He’d woken her up like that. Nuzzled in between her thighs and softly licking her awake. He refused to go harder or faster so his slow, lazy tongue up and down her labia drove her mad. She got everything wet as he continued gently eating her out. He wanted to be extra gentle with her because he’d fucked her extra hard the night before. At her request. He made her come and then he pounded into her, biting into his lip hard, breaking the skin as he thrust into her harshly, stretching her out with every brutal thrust. He was getting a little better at holding off his orgasm. Though, last night he did have to keep pulling out to catch his breath. She was sighing and moaning and slick for him. And when she finally did come she was shaking and mumbling so loudly Harry had to laugh but then was abruptly interrupted by his own orgasm.
And so in the morning, he went easy. Delicate strokes with his tongue slipping through her crease and over her clit. She did ask him to go faster, harder, anything. But he shook his head with his eyes on hers and just continued lapping up her sweet, slippery, arousal. He wanted to make it last as long as possible. Didn’t want to rush her to her orgasm. Didn’t want it to be over because that meant it would be time for him to leave.
“When can I see you again?” He asked as he kneaded the underpart of her thigh softly.
“I’ll think of something. We’ll make it work. “
.           .           .
Tennis practice was more difficult than Y/n imagined. Her whole weekend had been full of Harry, which meant a lot of sex. And that meant she was a little sore in some spots so she wasn’t quite on her game. But the reminder of why she was feeling sluggish only made her smile.
And if it hadn’t been for the lack of actual sleep perhaps her body would have been more willing to work harder during practice. But being next to Harry in bed was akin to sitting at a table with her favorite dish plated and made just for her. With no one around to tell her not to taste or dig in. It was impossible to resist.
So they’d wake in the middle of the night or during a nap and slip together until they were satisfied. Hours of sleep were lost for Y/n over the weekend but she wasn’t upset about it all.
She realized that just the thought of him made her heart skip a beat. The smile that worked its way over her features and the tingle of excitement and the thrill of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time pulled her through the few following days she didn’t get to see her Harry.
The Valentine’s Day party was on a Friday but Y/n wanted to see Harry so badly she could taste it. It had only been three days since she’d seen him but three days had her longing for him in a way she hadn’t expected.
Harry was doing his best to keep his thoughts from entering into the depths of the truth of what they were doing. Tried not wondering if Y/n had slept with his dad since he’d returned from the Hamptons. Tried not imagining how pretty she’d look at a Valentine’s Day party and what might happen later that night. But sometimes the mind wasn’t kind. And Harry could not stop imagining that she was naked and doing things to his dad that she’d done to him.
And when she called him as he was in the middle of letting his thoughts spiral the burst of hope that filled his muscles and his veins made his dimples dig into his cheeks as he answered.
“I was thinking I could come over tonight. To you. Do you think I could be sneaked in?”
He hadn’t expected her to ask to see him. He was sure she was doing fine without seeing him. Figured that while he was plucking the worst images from his tortured mind, she was off shopping and laughing with her friends. He knew she wasn’t that shallow, of course. It’s just that his thoughts weren’t allowing him any grace.
“Yeah. Definitely. Should be easy.”
It was easy. Harry was on the first floor and he was lucky enough to have his own room. She was able to walk right in without anyone spotting her. Not that most of the guys there would even know who she was.
There was no time for talk the moment the door was closed behind Harry. He pulled at her t-shirt and wrapped her in his arms and captured her lips in his.
She dropped her little bag onto the floor and moved her arms up and over his shoulders as she let him kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in months. That’s kind of how it felt. She’d missed his sweetness and his eagerness. Missed him.
“Mmmm… Harry… baby...” She whispered as he moved his lips down to her neck. “I missed you. God I just needed to see you so bad.”
Harry moaned as he dragged his mouth over her skin and up to her jaw, “I just need you so bad.” He was shaking to have her in his arms and in his room.
When he brought his mouth back to hers his hips pressed against her and she moved her hand down to his sweatpants and dipped a finger under the elastic band to feel his happy trail under her nails. He whined into her mouth and she smiled.
She had wanted to give him a blow job so badly all day. Which was unusual for her. She didn’t mind giving blow jobs but with Harry, the way he’d moan and whimper and beg her… she just loved how responsive he was to her.
“Let me suck you off. I want you in my mouth.” It was all she could think about when she drove across the city to go to him.
Harry’s chest was on fire and his heart was ravaging his ribs as she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She spit on his tip and took him down her throat and focused her eyes up to him.
“Fuck, Y/n. I’m gonna come so fast. I’m sorry…” he frowned as he whined his words and carded his fingers into her hair. She bobbed up and down, slippery and warm on his cock, sucking and using her tongue to circle and slither over his skin the way he loved.
She just needed to show him how she was feeling. How much she missed him. Harry was so much more vocal than she was about how he felt and how much he needed her when they spoke on the phone. She kept her feelings a little closer to her heart. Not revealing as much but giving him bits and pieces. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him too but she also wanted to do the right thing in guarding his heart.
Of course, doing the right thing, well, they were way past that, she reasoned as she dipped down over him further and tasted the precome pushing out through his slit. They were so far beyond doing the right thing it shouldn’t have mattered. But she did want to protect him in some way and by not revealing that she missed him just as much as he missed her she thought he might be able to deal with the distance better.
In truth, she had no idea what she was doing. She’d never done anything like it before. She just hoped that at the end of whatever they were doing, they’d both be okay.
Harry groaned as he rolled his hips gently into her, his pink lips dropped open watching her mouth stretch around him, drool dripping down her neck, her eyes blinking up at him.
“Please… oh my god…” Harry gasped when she brought her lips up and suckled his tip, her tongue swirling and lapping just under his frenulum.
He came so fast it was embarrassing. She always did it to him. Always had him shaking and giving in to her so quickly. He didn’t know how she did it. Not even fucking his own hand was as quick. He was convinced it was some kind of sorcery she used on him but he knew what it was. He knew that she just did it for him like no one else did. He’d watched porn with hot women but none came close to how hot he thought Y/n was. No girl he’d ever met and dated or did anything sexual with at all did it for him the way Y/n did it for him. Her voice and her eyes and her confidence. He’d never been in love but if he were to fall for someone, if he wasn’t already, it would be for her.
Harry choked out a moan and his knees buckled the slightest as he throbbed and pumped hot come down her throat. She slurped and sucked it all down with her hands holding onto his ass, nails digging into his skin.
“Fuck!” He shouted when she pulled on his cock particularly hard to milk the last drop from him and then he laughed, his chest heaving.
A heavy knock cracked on his door, “All right in there Styles?” A male’s voice teased from behind the door.
Harry took a deep breath as Y/n pulled her lips off of his cock, “Fine. Thanks.” Harry shouted, not taking his eyes off his lover.
The pair lay in Harry’s full-sized bed with the radio on chatting about nothing. Harry had his arms wrapped around her middle with his head on her hip. He was like a big teddy bear that constantly wanted to be held and near to her. He just wanted to touch her and look at her. She loved how warm and touchy he was. Loved that he needed to physically be next to her when they were together.
“Tomorrow’s the party?” He hesitated to ask but couldn’t help himself.
“Yeah. Tomorrow. Got fitted for my dress earlier today. What did you do today, Harry?” It seemed like every time they were alone together and having a conversation they were lying and assembled jointly in one way or another with Harry squeezing her tight while she combed her fingers through his hair. It was maybe the best feeling she’d ever had with a lover. Ever. It was gentle and kind. Loving. Like there was no rush or reason to do anything other than to look at one another and be near to one another. Touching, smiling, kissing.
Harry had one class only and he finished an assignment due on Monday so he was ahead of schedule. The studious young man that he was.
“Hate that we can’t celebrate Valentine’s Day together,” Harry lifted himself to sit up, causing Y/n’s hands to fall away from his hair. His sudden change in demeanor had caught her off guard.
She pulled at his hand and sat up, “I know. I hate it too, Harry.”
“Do you hate it? Or are you just saying that so I feel better about all this?”
She squinted her eyes at him and shook her head, “What do you mean by that? Of course, I wish we could spend it together.”
Harry stood up from the bed and walked to his small kitchenette to grab a bottle of water, uncapping the lid and chugging a big gulp before turning and lifting the bottle, “Want some water?”
Y/n climbed off the bed and slowly walked toward Harry. Not understanding the mood change, “No. I’m okay right now. Thank you. But please continue with the previous thought. Explain what’s going on in your head.”
“I’m just…” he shook his head and sighed and walked past her to sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know. I know what this is. You and me. But feels like it’s just me who really wants more. Feels like, you’re doing just fine. You know?” He looked up at her as she followed him to where he was sat on the bed.
“No. I don’t know. You think I’m not just as excited to see you as you are me?” She stepped herself in between his legs and brushed her fingers over his forehead and into his hair. Perhaps she should start being more open with him about her feelings. But then again, that could make things even worse in the long run.
“No,” he laughed incredulously. “I don’t think you are. You don’t understand how I feel. How much I want you. And it’s not fair for me to feel this way because I knew all along what this was. But I can’t help it.”
Pausing her hand in his hair, she pulled her fingers out and nudged at his chin so he’d look up at her, “Where’s this coming from? You know how much I like you, Harry. You’re all I can think about.”
He searched her pretty face as she stood over him and shook his head, “You don’t understand how I feel. You don’t feel the same way I feel for you.”
She stepped away and rubbed her hands down her face. She couldn’t force him to believe her but she was sure she was feeling just the way he was. The intense longing she felt for him for the last three days told her as much.
“What do you want me to do, Harry? Should I leave, Leo? You and me, we can just run off into the sunset and never turn back? Will that prove to you how I feel?”
Harry stood up and paced from the kitchenette to his window and back, “You won’t though. I know it. You won’t leave my dad. You don’t have the balls to do that. You need his money and that big house and that huge ring you’re wearing…”
Y/n looked down at her wedding ring and felt a blanket of shame cover her body and pool around her feet as he continued.
“You wouldn’t do that because if you do that then you’ll be stuck with a boy. I can’t provide for you and buy you a nice car or take you on lavish vacations. I can’t compete with my dad on any level.”
Shaking her head as he spoke she was feeling insulted. A bit angry. But she knew he was speaking from a place of hurt.
“Harry…” she approached him and put her palms over his chest and looked up at him, “Stop. I’m here with you because my feelings for you are far greater than I can really even comprehend. You don’t need to compete with Leo or anyone. You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met. You can choose not to believe me but I’m here with you because I couldn’t be away from you a moment longer. I missed you. I needed you.”
He pulled his lips into his mouth as she spoke.
“Do you hear me? Harry I… I want to be so careful with you because you’re so special to me. I…” she sighed and looked up into his big green eyes, her hands traveling up his neck to keep his attention on her, “I want you. You’re better than your dad. To me, you are. I’ve missed being with someone I’ve felt this way for. As for your dad? I don’t feel this way. Harry, you are… god…” she started to tear up as she spoke. Unable to finish her thought as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.
“I’m sorry I said those things. I’m just so jealous and I hate this. I don’t think you’re that way. I know you’re better than that. It was rude for me to say that.” He spoke into her hair.
He felt ridiculous. Harry could be emotional. He tended to allow his sensitive nature to get the best of him at times and this was one of them. He hated that he’d insulted her the way he did but it just fell out of his mouth before he could think. He wished he could take it back.
“I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it. I know you know me better than that.”
Harry pushed his mouth to hers in haste. His emotions were too much to handle. He couldn’t talk anymore or he’d just get worked up again. He didn’t know how he was going to stay sane the following evening while Y/n was spending Valentine’s Day with another man.
His forceful kiss to her mouth was met with a pinch to her hips as he pushed her back into his bed. “Need you…” he breathed against her lips as he pulled her shirt off and she settled onto the bed and scooted back as he crawled after her, putting his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulling them down.
She wore the sweetest little lacy pink bra with a tiny bow at the center and matching panties that barely covered anything. When he caught sight of what she’d worn under her clothes he thought he could cry again. Had she done this for him?
In fact, she had. After getting fitted for her party dress she stopped at La Perla and picked out the little set. The bra didn’t give her much support but it wasn’t meant to be practical. It was meant to be sweet and pretty. She looked through the various shades and fabrics and tried on strappy pieces with black leather and soft white lace. She put on a bright red bra and thong set she wound up buying, but the pink lace with bows and delicate straps reminded her of Harry. How soft and intimate it looked. So pure and sheer but sexy. And when she put it on all she could think of was how it matched his lovely personality. His tenderness. The way he was so delicate with her and how big his heart was. It felt like what he’d pick for her if he were with her.
“Do you like it?” She smiled at him as he let his fingertips brush over the little bows at her hips and the lace along the edge and up her tummy to the bralette where her tits were spilling out the smallest bit.
“I fucking love it. Y/n,” he looked up at her with a pained face, brows scrunched, and shiny eyes. “You’re… so pretty. Prettiest woman I’ve ever seen and, god,” he pushed his thumb into the fabric that covered her breast and poked at her nipple, “More than just pretty. You’re phenomenal. In every way.”
She hadn’t expected him to give her this response. She knew he’d probably like it. Figured he’d give her some attention while she was wearing it and then he’d want it off but to see his eyes tear up was unexpected.
She cupped his cheek with her palm and spoke quietly, “I bought it for you. I’m really glad you like it.”
Harry let out a shaky breath as he caged her in, arms on either side of her waist, and then scooped her into his arms, holding her tight to him, “Fuck. You’ve got my head spinning, Y/n.”
She let him take the lead. He eventually pushed his boxers down and insisted she keep the set on while he made love to her. He said that. Love. She got hot and felt herself begin to get emotional at his words and his soft touches.
“Keep it on,” he put his hand over hers before she could push the pink fabric down her hips, “Want to make love to you while you’re in this. Show you how much I appreciate the gift.”
And show her his appreciation he did. He pulled the material to the side gently and licked at her until he was so hard it ached and he began whining, not able to handle not being inside of her any longer.
He slowly pushed her legs apart and dragged his nose and lips up from her hips to her tits and then to her neck before sneaking a hand down to keep the crotch to the side as he slowly pushed into her. Always loving and craving the initial plunge. The little muscle at her entry stretching wide open for him.
The bed in his room was squeaky. It wasn’t as sturdy as the one in his room at Leo’s house but with the way he was fucking into her slowly, long and deep strokes, there wasn’t too much of a racket. The slow bounce of the mattress springs was all that could really be heard over the radio. A few moans and soft gasps.
Harry went from watching her face as he bottomed out, stuffing himself into her as far as he could reach, to kissing her while slowly rolling his hips into her.
He could feel the lace on his shaft as he thrusted, and he enjoyed the way it irritated the smooth, velvety skin on his cock. He hoped it left a mark. One to match the mark she’d left on his heart.
“Harry…” she breathed his name as he looked deep into her eyes. It felt so intense this way with him. He was moving into her so slowly but pushing in so deep her toes curled every time his balls were tucked up to her bottom, “I need you…” she panted as she scratched her nails down his back.
He began to shake with the way his heart was pumping so hard. His mind was a blur and the wetness between them felt so warm and perfect that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to recover from the moment. She went to visit him. She wore something special just for him. She said she needed him.
And it was too much to verbalize exactly how he felt. He wasn’t quite in control of his thoughts in that moment as he kissed her mouth and plunged into her as she panted and licked her tongue against his. “Y/n… please stay with me,” his teeth were clenched as he spoke the words on accident. It was only meant to stay in his head, that statement. But it came out and he gasped when she lifted her legs to wrap around his back and pressed her heels into his ass to push him in deeper.
“I’m here with you all night, baby,” she spoke against his lip.
Harry moaned and pushed himself so he could look down at her, never ceasing his movements into her, “I mean stay with me. Be with me. Me and you,” he dipped down to kiss her again feeling the heat of ecstasy travel up his spine.
“I want to stay with you,” her words were breaths against his lips. It was the only way she knew how to respond. Because she couldn’t stay with him like he suggested and he knew that. But she could tell him that she wanted to.
The bed under her slowly gave way to their weight with Harry’s hips pressed against hers every time he bottomed out and it was giving her the perfect friction. His lips on hers and puffs of breath from his nose made her feel like she was encased in him. It was all she wanted.
“You feel so good, baby. I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come…” she whined as she felt him tremble and his hips began to roll a bit faster. She could feel that he was just as close as she was.
Harry lifted up again to look down at her, never ceasing the decadent roll of his hips, “Want to watch it. Want to see how you look when you come on my cock,” he whispered over her.
His eyes were dark with lust but the tip of his nose was red as if he’d just been crying. Perhaps he had been.
“Yes baby, yes… yes… yes…” his deep plunges through her insides and pushing her walls apart had her knocked upward over and over. He kept himself deep inside, never pulling back, only fucking into her so that his tip could get into her deep, so she could feel him inside of her tummy and pressing into all her parts, claiming them as his.
They rocked together, Harry’s thighs working himself into her slowly and deeply until her release finally snapped and she moaned loudly.
“Don’t look away, please, look at me,” Harry gasped as he felt her begin to spasm around him. She brought her gaze back to his and her orgasm exploded at the look on his face. He came the moment she looked back at him. Both of them forced themselves to keep their eyes open to watch as the other came from their connected bodies. Harry’s deep groans and raspy, breathy whines met with Y/n’s soft coos and choked moans. He was so deep inside of her, pressing himself even deeper as he poured into her, letting his come coat her insides in ownership. He wanted to make her his.
A sick and twisted little part of his brain hoped her implant wouldn’t work this time. That he could knock her up and she would have to leave Leo and then she’d be his and he could have her. Keep her.
“Fuck, baby…” she yelped when he gave her one last rough push. Wanting that little bit to just make a difference somehow.
Harry kept his eyes on hers and he watched her features relax and she smiled, bringing a hand up to his face, “You’re amazing, Harry. The best I’ve ever had.”
His grin was tranquil and flirtatious. She loved his cheek. His confidence. She also loved his softness and how sensitive he was. It was the best of both worlds and she never realized she’d need it so much in a lover.
“Yeah? I keep hearing you say that and I think I’m gonna start believing it soon.”
She laughed with her thumb at his temple, softly rubbing the skin next to his eyes, “You should just believe me when I say it. Take my word for it.”
It was true. She felt so connected to him. So deeply intertwined that she was positive there was no one better. No one who could make her feel like he did.
Y/n had told Leo she was with Gina. That she’d been at the spa with her and got waxed and ready for the party and had too many glasses of wine so she couldn’t drive home. That was her excuse as to why she couldn’t come home Thursday evening when she was spending it with his son.
And Harry didn’t have classes on Fridays so they slept in until nearly 10 am before Y/n realized she needed to go and actually get waxed otherwise Leo would realize she’d lied to him. And it was going to be a last-minute thing anywhere she could get in without an appointment so she knew she had to get going with the party starting at 5. She also still had to go pick up her dress after the final alterations were complete.
It was always the same, leaving him. He didn’t want her to go. She didn’t want to go. But it was necessary. And she left the sweet little pink set behind to keep in his room, “This is just for you to see. Not for anyone else. Okay?” She said when she put the fabric on his bed before kissing him goodbye and leaving.
.           .           .
Harry loved that Y/n came to visit him. It felt like they were a couple when they were alone together. He could see them being together. Imagined it all the time. But he knew the deal. She wasn’t his. Though, she did tell him some things that made him feel like she was at least, in part, his. But that didn’t change the reality.
He was spending Valentine’s Day by himself. He had a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon his dad got him for his birthday. He fully intended to treat the $300 bottle kindly. It was meant to be sipped slowly. Enjoyed for a special occasion. But when he thought of how Y/n was on his dad’s arm, probably at that very moment, accompanying him to a Valentine’s Day party, thought about how his dad didn’t care for her the way he did, didn’t cherish her and dream about her and stop himself in the middle of a mundane task to smile as his heart throbbed when he imagined her smile and her laugh. That his dad was fucking someone else who lived nearby and took her on a weekend away with him… How could any sane man want to be with anyone else once they had Y/n? Harry couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t fathom it.
“Fuck it,” he spoke to himself as he got up and crossed the room to pull the bottle out of the cabinet. He grabbed a glass and looked down at it before deciding he was going to just drink straight from the bottle. The highest form of disrespect for such a sought-after bourbon. A middle finger to his dad. And to the entire situation he was in really.
Placing the glass back in the cupboard he picked up the bottle at the neck and brought the 90-proof liquor with him to the small couch that sat across from his television.
Harry wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d had alcohol a good handful of times but usually at frat parties where it was provided for him. And he certainly never drank alone.
Peeling the foil off the cap and tossing it to the floor, he pulled the top and cork out of the bottle and placed it on the coffee table in front of himself.
He didn’t have anywhere to be the following morning so that was good, he figured. Better to have the morning open in case of a hangover. And he’d have all day Sunday to finish his homework.
And with that thought, he leaned forward to grab the bottle, brought the opening of the neck to his lips, and took his first pull of the evening.
.           .           .
Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.
The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.
Leo had scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.
“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”
She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?
That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.
But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.
Waiters walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.
Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).
“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.
She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.
The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.
“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”
Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.
“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.
“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”
Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.
“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”
“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”
Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.
“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”
The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”
“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”
 “Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”
Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”
Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”
She blinked her eyes and looked between the pair and cocked her head, “Oh. I’m sorry. I must be mistaken. I thought Leo said…” She shook her head not wanting to finish that sentence. It dawned on her that Leo had been with their daughter. Parker. Or, at least that’s what it was starting to look like. An interesting turn of events.
And it wasn’t much longer after that small discovery that Y/n spotted her husband. He was holding a glass of wine and speaking with a couple, laughing casually and acting as if he hadn’t been missing for nearly thirty minutes.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Y/n squeezed his arm as she took her place next to him.
Leo looked down at his wife and grinned, “Oh? I’ve been around. Here and there. I did go outside for a bit to get some air.”
Liar.
As cold and closed off as Leo could be, she knew when he wasn’t being forthright with her. But she wouldn’t call him out on any of it. How could she? She’d keep the information close to her chest. Something to hang onto for another day. She was curious about Parker, though. Not sure which of the two daughters she was. She’d only met one but never got the young lady’s name as there was another woman talking Y/n’s ear off. That daughter had been quite young, though. Harry’s age. Y/n knew the other daughter was closer to Y/n’s age.
Another three glasses of wine and a slow song with some lovey-dovey lyrics had Y/n feeling a bit sentimental. She was wishing Harry was there. Wishing she could catch his eyes from across the room. Wishing she could pull him into a corner and kiss his warm mouth and run her fingers through his curls.
It wasn’t as if the party was boring or anything. Well… okay. It was quite boring. It was just a bunch of rich people in a massive house worth millions drinking expensive wine, wearing expensive clothes, and pretending to care about what was going on around them.
Y/n watched as Leo’s eyes followed a pretty brunette with a slim nose and a long neck traipse across the room toward the bar for another glass of wine. The young woman looked to be Y/n’s age. Perhaps even a little older. She was very pretty. Her dress was flattering and she had a slim waist and curvy hips. This one- this one, Y/n thought, was more Leo’s taste.
Maybe it was the four glasses of wine or maybe it was just her natural penchant to be outspoken and assertive, but she decided to introduce herself to the woman. Find out her name. Look into her eyes and determine if this woman had actually been with her husband all weekend.
Y/n wasn’t necessarily jealous. She did feel a bit betrayed though. Her husband had lied to her in some way. She knew that much. Knew that he’d been talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones as Harry told her he’d overheard his dad. Knew that a woman had chirped excitedly next to him when he’d been on the phone with her while he was in the Hamptons and that Leo sounded like he was quickly trying to think of a reason why there’d be a woman there when he mentioned the Valentine’s Day party.
Rebecca was a great cover. She was in her 50s and he thought that once Y/n laid eyes on her all her questions would be quashed and she’d forget all about it. But he hadn’t anticipated Y/n to open her mouth and mention the Hamptons to Mrs. Manera.
“Hi,” Y/n sidled up to the brunette, “I’m Y/n Styles. I don’t think we’ve met yet.” She motioned to the bartender for another glass of wine. Probably a bad idea. She would certainly feel five glasses in the morning.
The young woman gave herself away immediately as her eyes widened and she opened her mouth for a moment, searching the room quickly before returning her sights to Y/n, “Uh… oh, hi! I’m Parker Manera, Phin and Rebecca’s daughter.”
Y/n watched her nervously sit her glass down and wipe her hands down her expensive dress and then pick her glass up again before shifting on her feet with a forced smile on her face.
“Oh! You’re Parker. Your mom and dad were just telling me about how you were in the Hamptons all weekend. It’s such a small world,” she laughed lightly and placed her free hand at her hip in a show of confidence, “My husband Leo was there last weekend too. What a funny coincidence.” She smiled widely as she kept her eyes on Parker’s.
The poor thing swallowed harshly and looked down at her glass before letting her eyes dart around the room again, most likely in search of Leo, “Oh. Yeah. Uh… huh…” She took a sip of her wine and then looked at Y/n, “Yeah, that is a coincidence.”
.           .           .
Harry was trying to pay attention to his best friend as he gave him a pep talk. But it was useless. He couldn’t ever understand what Harry was going through and he had no idea that he’d been sleeping with his stepmom.
“Don’t worry man. Not every Valentine’s Day is going to be spent alone like this. You’re still young, dude!” Tyler said, trying to cheer him up. Only Tyler didn’t realize what Harry’s real issue was. He just thought Harry was depressed because he was still single and a virgin.
Harry had called Tyler and asked him to come over to share the bottle of bourbon with him. He realized early on that he would not be able to drink the whole bottle alone, nor did he want to.
“I know. Just feels shitty. You know my dad and Y/n are at a party tonight. With a bunch of other assholes probably. Sounds so boring. Would hate to spend a romantic day out with rich assholes.” Harry was only on his third glass of whisky but the stuff was strong and he was feeling the alcohol burning in his gut and winding through his veins, impairing his thoughts and his emotions.
Tyler laughed, “Yeah, but after their boring night out they can go home and shag. Unless your dad’s too old for that,” Tyler joked before taking a healthy swig and looking at the TV that was on as background noise.
Harry frowned and felt himself nearly gag at the thought. That was exactly the kind of thing he was trying not to think about, “What’s wrong with you? You’re a dick sometimes you know that?”
“Sorry. You probably don’t want to think about your dad fucking your hot stepmom do you?” He teased.
Only it wasn’t funny to Harry. Not at all. He was spiraling and he’d called his friend as a distraction yet here they were discussing a topic that was a punch to the gut and had Harry surging with jealousy and hurt.
“Shut the fuck up, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry barked and stood up from the couch to pace his room, “I fucking hate this!” He ran his hands into his hair and felt his anger peak.
“Whoa. Okay. Sorry dude. Wasn’t trying to get you upset. It was a joke.”
“Yeah? But it’s not a joke. That’s what’s gonna happen. She’s gonna go back home with my prick of a dad and fuck him. Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And that’s what couples do on Valentine’s Day.”
Tyler looked at Harry in confusion as Harry pulled at his roots and sniffed, his nose red and his eyes bloodshot, “She’s fucking him and she’s not even… Goddamnit!”
“What’s going on Harry? Are you okay?” His friend stood up, suddenly aware that Harry was not doing well at all.
“No. I’m not fucking okay,” he sighed and shook his head before looking at his friend, “I’ve… you can’t say anything to anyone, okay?” He continued pacing.
Tyler nodded, still standing up, not moving from his spot, “Of course. You know any secret you have is safe with me.”
Harry stopped his restless motions and dropped his arms by his side, “Y/n and I… we’ve been seeing each other,” he looked down before he could watch Tyler’s expression. “We’ve been sleeping together.”
Tyler’s silence indicated his shock. He had not been expecting to hear that from Harry. All the times they’d teased him about getting with her they were just kidding. No one ever thought that it would actually happen.
Harry resumed his confession, “And it’s been really good. We like each other too. My dad’s a dick. He’s sleeping with another woman. Which is allowed, but… nah… that’s a long story. I’m,” Harry looked directly back at his friend and approached the couch before plopping down heavily over the cushions, “fucking sad. I’m a mess over it.”
Tyler sat down next to his friend and nodded, “So you and Y/n. And that means you’re not a virgin? She’s the one that…” his words faded out, letting the context fill in the blanks.
Harry nodded, “Yeah.”
“Well, fuck man. I’m sorry. Here,” Tyler leaned forward and grasped the bottle, handing it to Harry, “sounds like you need some more of this.”
.           .           .
Y/n wasn’t mad. Not at all. Nor jealous. But she would keep this information tucked away for a rainy day perhaps. Or maybe it would never be brought up. It did, however, make her feel a bit less guilty for her own insolence.
And she wondered what he had been up to when he disappeared. She imagined that he’d been with Parker. Doing what exactly? Well, she had some ideas about the nature of what they were doing. In fact, part of her did hope maybe he’d gotten his needs taken care of. Hoped that he wouldn’t want anything from her that evening because she was completely satisfied with how well she’d been treated just that very morning by Harry.
That was only going to get trickier as time went on. The more time she spent with Harry, the less she wanted to spend any time with Leo. And she was still irked at him for the comment he made to her before they left for the party. She planned to use that as an excuse for not having sex with him if he tried to initiate. But excuses would dwindle eventually. She couldn’t keep pushing off sex with her husband.
She and Leo said their goodbyes as everyone began to leave the party as normal. Most people were grabbing their jackets and purses and Y/n was shaking Phineas' hand when Leo leaned into Y/n and spoke quietly, “I’ll be right back, dear. Wait for me in the car.”
Fifteen minutes. She waited for 15 minutes for her husband and she knew what he was up to. Or at least in part. And that­­­­­– that did piss her off. The disrespect of it. She shot off a quick text to Harry wishing she was with him. Wishing she could just drive her husband’s car to Harry’s dorm and stay with him for the night. Finish off her Valentine’s Day properly.
Are you awake still?
It was almost midnight and a Friday night so she assumed he would be awake but by the time Leo made it to the car, Harry still hadn’t seen the text yet.
“What were you doing, Leo?” Y/n looked at his side profile as he began to drive down the long driveway to the gate to exit.
“I had to use the bathroom,” he placed his palm over his stomach and blew out a big, dramatic breath. “Think I ate too many crab cakes.”
Another lie. But also something to bring up should he want anything intimate from her tonight. A stomachache was an automatic no for sex.
“Let me drive, then. If you’re not feeling well that could be dangerous.” She didn’t mind playing dumb.
“Oh, it’s okay. I took some Pepto Rebecca offered me and I think I’ll be okay.”
“Okay. Good. That was nice of her. She was lovely to chat with. I really enjoyed the party. Phineas is also a hoot,” she exaggerated with a smiley tone. “Oh, and their daughters!” Y/n turned to watch his face as she continued, “What’s the younger one’s name again?”
“I think it’s Iris. No, Ivy. I think Ivy.” He answered as he nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.
“And then their older daughter, Piper. She was–“
“Parker.” Leo interrupted.
He took the bait and he didn’t even know it.
“What?” Y/n acted confused.
“Her name is Parker. You said Piper. I was just correcting you.”
Y/n smiled to herself, “Oh. I really thought she told me Piper. But I guess you’d know better than me.”
Leo’s body language did not change whatsoever. He was cool as a cucumber but man was he dumb. He didn’t have to act differently for her to know he was lying straight to her face. No, his answers gave him away.
“Anyway, as I was saying, Parker was really sweet. Talked about what we did last weekend. I told her all about the girls and how we go out for girl’s night every other Friday. Even invited her to come to our next one.” She lied.
She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, “Why’d you do that?” He turned to glance at her before looking back to the road.
Y/n couldn’t stop smiling. She was just having a bit of fun. It was also most definitely the five glasses of wine she’d had, “Because I like her! She’s my age and I feel like we have a lot in common. Oh! And it’s so funny, Leo. You won’t believe this! She was also in the Hamptons last weekend! And it’s wild that she had no idea that her mom was there when I told her that you saw Rebecca while you were there,” she shook her head dramatically and laughed. “Crazy.”
His jaw clenched but he remained quiet. Perhaps she’d taken it a bit too far. Now maybe she’d just given away that she knew something. But she just shrugged and turned to look out the window. She couldn’t wait for her bed. She just hoped that Harry would give her a goodnight text before she went to sleep like he usually did.
But he didn’t. She showered and plugged her phone in and checked her messages and still nothing.
Y/n was thankful Leo didn’t seem interested in having sex. She silently thanked Parker for a job well done as her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
Sensing light through her eyelids, she slowly blinked her eyes open. It took a moment to climb out of her wine-induced groggy haze but when she realized it was her cellphone she quickly rolled to her side to reach for it.
“Hello?” She spoke quietly and sat up against her pillows.
“Sound so pretty,” Harry’s words were watery and disconnected. “You with my dad?”
Y/n knew right away he was drunk. She grinned and shook her head as she responded, “No. I’m in my room. Where are you?” She was just happy to hear his voice, despite him being inebriated.
“My room. Tyler’s passed out. Drank some whisky so I didn’t have to think about you and my dad fucking. Didn’t work.”
The grin fell from her face, “What? Harry, we didn’t. But–“
“Bet you did. Probably trying to just make me feel good,” his speech was difficult to understand as his tongue seemed to be getting in the way, but she could clearly interpret his bitter tone.
“You should get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“So you can go back to having sex with another man?”
“Stop it, Harry. I was asleep just now. In my own room. We can talk in the morning when you’ve sobered up.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke into the receiver.
As much wine as she’d had at the party, Harry had clearly had a lot more alcohol in his system.
“F’course. Would hate to disturb you. Just a nuisance to you anyway…” his volume dropped as his words trailed off.
“You’re not a nuisance to me. It’s why I answered. Was excited to hear your voice. Now, go to sleep, Harry. Okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”
He actually probably would not feel better in the morning if his current state was any indicator.
The phone was silent but she could still hear him rustling around, sniffing, “Harry?”
“Y/n.” He said mockingly.
“Are you okay?” She knew she should probably just hang up but didn’t want to make things worse.
“No. I’m not.”
“I think you worry too much. You should go to sleep, baby.”
“Mmm… Sounds so nice. But I think it’s not fair is it?”
Y/n sighed and held her phone out to see what time it was before putting the receiver back to her ear, “What’s not fair?”
“You can fuck other people. You do too. You’re fucking my dad. I should go be able to fuck other people too if I want. Tyler told me I should.”
Y/n gulped down the upset and tried to keep herself level. He was drunk and not thinking straight. And the comment about Tyler had her wondering if his friend knew about their affair.
“Let’s discuss it when you’re feeling better tomorrow. You’re drunk, Harry. I don’t think this conversation will go anywhere good if we keep talking while you’re so upset.”
“Should have known. Yeah. We’ll see.”
Y/n opened her mouth to respond but he’d hung up. She heard the click and then the silence of her room enveloped her completely as her phone went dark with the ended call.
It was nearly 3:30 in the morning and lying back into her bed and closing her eyes did not bring sleep like she hoped. Instead, her mind went into overdrive considering all the things Harry had said.
And he was right. He should be allowed to do as he pleased. To sleep with others. He should. It would be healthier for him. For her. What they were doing was a mistake. It wasn’t going to end well and Harry’s words rang in her head for hours.
She hated the idea of him sleeping with anyone else but that was not fair. How could she expect him to only sleep with her when she was married to his father and sleeping with him? Though she hadn’t slept with Leo since before she and Harry started their affair. Still. At some point, Leo would expect something and she’d need to give him something.
So, instead of sleeping, she wound up writing in her journal with a mug of Ceylon, hot ginger, and lemon tea. She wrote down her feelings and the things she’d tell Harry. The things that needed to be said.
They couldn’t continue on as they were. They were both going to get hurt and she didn’t want to imagine hurting Harry more than he was. She could tell this was hurting him. When she’d seen him Thursday night he expressed some hurt feelings.
And as hard as it would be, she had to break it off. Had to end their affair because they would both only get more attached. The sooner the better.
He’d hate it. He’d fight her on it, she just knew it. He’d plead with her. He’d say something that would make her waver. Make her want to just give in and let him have his way. But it wasn’t healthy. It was a relationship that could never be revealed. His father couldn’t know. And the thought of leaving her current situation to be with Harry felt ridiculous.
Yes. It was ridiculous. Because she was 27 and he had just turned 21. And he was her stepson. Ridiculous to consider leaving Leo because then what? Harry might not even feel the same way for her in six months. A year. Five years. And she’d be back to square one because leaving Leo meant leaving everything he’d given her behind. Of course, there was a prenup involved in their marriage. That had been the plan all along. She knew going into it that this was how it would be. Should they ever divorce, she gets nothing really. As it should be, she surmised. She wasn’t entitled to anything from Leo if the arrangement was called off. She would have nothing.
She had no career. No money of her own. Very few things she’d bought herself.
Her mother would just say I told you so. Which would be well deserved.
So to stop their little thing as soon as possible was better than waiting until it all blew up in their faces. She hated the thought of not being able to kiss him or chat with him about personal and private things only a lover should know. She’d miss his flirtatious banter and the little pinches he gave her skin when he wanted her attention. It would be hard to wake up every morning knowing she’d never have someone warm and kind to wake up with. His scent. His eyes. His hair. His fingers. His voice.
She scribbled her thoughts and a tear fell onto the page she was pouring her thoughts into.
She didn’t want to do it. She wanted to keep him and have him to herself. Enjoy the secret, private relationship that had maybe been the best she’d ever had. But that was the part that needed to come to an end. Their secret affair would be exposed or Harry would get hurt (and so would she). He was already hurting. It was already hard and they hadn’t been at it for that long. She imagined the longer they continued the worse it would be for Harry. His soft heart would continue to break in front of her and their whole relationship would be based around the sadness and the turmoil and the secrets. It was healthy for no one.
When the pale light from the sun began to stretch into her room she put her journal down and texted Marla. It was early. Maybe a bit too early, even for Marla.
But she needed someone to talk to. Someone to help her straighten out her mind. She was feeling selfish, angry, hurt, and most of all, her heart was being squeezed with a vice in her chest and it was hard to breathe. Hard to think straight.
When you wake up will you please call me?
Her tea was barely touched. It had gone cold and because she forgot to pull the bag out it had also turned bitter. She winced at the taste and placed the mug down on her side table. That seemed to be an appropriate illustration of how her life was going at the moment. She hadn’t taken care to make sure the tea was tasty and done correctly and now it couldn’t be salvaged. A perfectly fine cup of tea to waste.
Y/n felt her phone vibrate and she plucked it up quickly to answer. It was Marla.
“Morning. Thank you for calling me.”
“Of course. Everything okay?”
Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to begin crying again, “Not really. Went to a party with Leo last night. Learned he’s been seeing another woman my age, though the issue is that he brought her to the Hamptons last weekend and lied to me about it. Told me the girl’s mother was there with him. And it was just a weird night. So, there’s that. But then Harry called me in the middle of the night, completely wasted,” she went on with the story and what was said, barely taking a breath to pause as Marla listened closely.
“So, I need to just end it with him. Before he really gets hurt. Before I can’t let him go. Because that’s for the best. But now I’m also worried about this Parker girl. If Leo’s been seeing her frequently and taking her on vacations with him then I don’t know what that means for me either. What if I break up with Harry and then Leo wants a divorce because he’s fallen in love with Parker? I don’t care that he’s with her. But my concerns about it are mostly just selfish. I don’t know what to do. I honestly feel like the worst person in the world. I’m selfish and I’m in the middle of this strange affair. I know I need to break it off.”
Marla had listened quietly and hummed affirmatively throughout. She hadn’t realized the depth of feelings involved until then.
“I feel like it might be better if you do break up with Harry. That makes the most sense. He’s so young and you are technically married to his father so even though you can sleep with another man, you’ve picked the wrong one.”
“I know. I’ve never made such an epic mistake in all my life. It’s a mistake, what I’ve done. Isn’t it?”
“I think so. Yeah. You can’t help how you feel. I understand why you are doing it. Why you like Harry so much, but… if you can never be with him openly then that probably makes this a mistake. Will you see him today?”
“I’m going to go see him. Yes. I hate this so much. Can I come see you after? I’m gonna need someone to talk to and cry to a bit. I don’t want Leo wondering what’s wrong with me. Not that he’d care much.”
.           .           .
Her text to Harry went unanswered. She imagined he might still be sleeping. Hungover from the night before. Hell, she was even hungover from the night before but five glasses of wine at 27 will do that to you.
She chewed the skin at the edge of her thumb as she walked around her neighborhood in the hills. She couldn’t stay in the house with Leo looming because she would frequently begin to burst into tears out of nowhere and she couldn’t have him seeing that.
Her heart was pounding in her chest and nerves were making her skin crawl the longer she waited to hear back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t just ignoring her altogether. And to drive all the way to his campus on a Saturday at noon would be an hour's drive.
But maybe that’s what she needed. Maybe a long drive and some loud music with her windows rolled down would be better than walking along the winding streets of her neighborhood and waiting for him to respond. Yes. That’s what she’d do. She’d go to him. She needed to. This needed to end. Only then could they both move on and begin to heal.
.           .           .
Harry did see the text come in from Y/n. Sort of. He opened up a singular eye and squinted to read the message but the words were fuzzy and his headache was killer. He couldn’t move. Lifting the phone to look at the text was a feat in and of itself and that had been all for nothing because he couldn’t even make out the words on his screen. He knew it was from Y/n but when he closed his eye he drifted off into a dreamless sleep once again. Tyler never budged from his spot on the couch.
But when there was a knock at his door and his phone was ringing right next to his head he was forced to sit upright and take in his surroundings. His head was still pounding but the nausea from the night before had mostly passed. Mostly.
“Hello?” His voice was groggy and dry and pained.
“Harry. It’s me. I’m at your door.”
It took a minute for everything to fall into place. He stood up and slowly made his way to his door and when he opened up, even though he knew Y/n said she was there, somehow it still took him by surprise.
He silently greeted her and gestured for her to enter.
His TV was on but the sound was muted. Tyler was draped over the small couch with his mouth gaped wide open in a dead sleep. A bottle of liquor, empty on the small table in front of the couch was the final clue as to what had gone on the night before.
She could tell Harry had just woken up. That at least made her feel a bit better. He wasn’t purposely ignoring her.  
“I’m sorry I showed up like this,” she spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Tyler up. Especially because it would look suspicious to him to see Y/n there. Though she assumed he knew based on Harry’s comments about Tyler when he called her in the middle of the night.
She was so pretty but she looked so sad. Harry could tell, even with a killer headache and a queasy stomach that she was pensive.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about that call last night. Got very drunk. And wound up telling him about us,” Harry looked over his shoulder at Tyler then back at you. “So… I’m sorry about that too.”
Y/n watched as Harry got himself a glass of water and chug it before waking Tyler up and asking him to go back to his room.
Tyler eventually got up and greeted Y/n politely, “Morning. Uh, sorry. I just need to run to the bathroom and then I’ll be out of here.”
It was awkward. Sitting on Harry’s bed while she watched his best friend drag himself to the bathroom. Knowing he knew about them. She wondered what Harry had told him exactly. And now she imagined he’d be calling Tyler after she left to tell him what had happened and how she’d broken his heart. Not dissimilar to what she’d be doing with Marla.
Harry stood awkwardly against the foot of his bed with his head turned to look at Y/n, “I am sorry you know. I can tell you’re upset. Is that why you’re here?”
He did feel bad. He’d been way out of line. Wildly jealous. Drunk.
“In part,” she looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot but he was still so handsome. If she weren’t there at that moment to break up with him she’d stand up and pull him in for a kiss. She wanted to. “But I wanted to talk to you about something else too.”
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy curls, “Y/n,” his green eyes looked so bright and tired. The next words he spoke in a quiet whisper, “Please don’t.” She almost didn’t hear him. Almost. But she did and the moment he said it her heart dropped into her stomach. This was going to kill her.
Tyler opened the door and said goodbye quickly but Harry didn’t take his eyes off Y/n’s. He knew what she was doing. Why she’d come. He could just feel it. Tell by the way she was looking at him.
“Is that why you’re here, Y/n? To break up with me?”
Y/n patted the spot on the mattress next to her, “Come sit with me. Please.”
“Damnit!” Harry walked toward his kitchenette and leaned over the small formica countertop with his back to her, “I fucked up. I am not good at this. I’m too emotional.”
Y/n had broken up with a fair amount of guys in her life. Some were easier than others. A few times she was on the receiving end of the breakup. It was never easy.
But this one felt a lot heavier. It felt like ripping out a page from a beautifully half-drawn masterpiece before it was ready to see the light of day. Torn in half and tossed into the trash and wasted all without having had the chance to be completed and filled in with color and then framed and hung. It could have been beautiful.
She got up from the bed and walked across his room to stand behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, smushing her cheek into his back all in silence.
Harry’s breaths were heavy and his t-shirt-covered back was warm against her skin. He brought his hands up over hers and hung his head.
“Harry,” she whispered and squeezed him tight, “I don’t want to do this but–“
“Then don’t,” Harry turned around to face her and took her hands into his, “Then don’t, Y/n.”
Shaking her head she blinked away her tears and tried to focus on her task. It had to be done. It was better for him in the end. And she only wanted what was best for him.
“This can’t go on. We’ll only get hurt. It’s already hurting.”
Shiny tears filled in Harry’s eyes and when he finally blinked they fell down his cheeks and to his chin, “Do you not-“ He shook his head and looked down for a moment as he sniffed to compose himself. Looking back into her eyes his thumbs softly caressed her thumbs, “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”
“It’s not that,” she shook her head, “It’s because I think this guilt and pain will just get worse. You’ve been so upset and unhappy. I don’t want to see you sad.”
“This is making me sad, Y/n. If you’re trying to do something to protect me, then don’t. I can handle it. I know the deal.”
She closed her eyes and lifted his hand up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles, “I know. But it’ll be easier if we do it now. The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll be. We’ll both wind up hating each other. It’ll be messier than it already is. You don’t want to be some secret forever do you?” She looked up at him.
“I would if it meant being with you. Whatever that means. Whatever it takes.”
“You don’t mean that. I don’t think you understand how awful it would be.”
“I haven’t been given the chance. I can get used to it. I’ll be better.”
Y/n dropped his hands and brought her arms up, cupping his face with her palms, “You’re so young. You’ll get over me. You’ll find someone you can be happy with openly and fall in love and have all those things you deserve.”
Harry’s mouth was slightly open as he drew in breaths of air (unable to breathe through his nose as he was crying). He put his large hands over hers and shook his head, “And what about you? Don’t you deserve love and someone who will be only yours? My dad can’t give you that. I can.”
“I agreed to the arrangement with your dad, Harry. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. My only concern is you. You are the one that deserves to have all those wonderful. Not me.”
“No. You’re wrong. You deserve it too. I want to be the one to give that to you.”
She tried to stop her sinuses from tingling and the tears from forming but she couldn’t. Her lips quivered as she tried to respond but her words were swallowed in her throat when she sucked in a sharp breath of grief.
She was helpless to her natural emotions as she felt her cheeks wet. She wanted to be strong and confident when she broke up with him so he’d see she meant it but her position crumbled with his delicate temper. He was too tender and lovely for her to keep up a cold façade.
“Please, Harry. Don’t make this harder. We can’t see each other anymore like this. I will miss you but this can’t go on.” She brought her hands down from his face, causing his hands to fall away.
“Who’s going to show you affection and give you intimacy then, Y/n? You can’t go about life without out. I can see how much you need it. You need me.” He sniffed as more tears fell.
“Harry…” she shook her head and backed away as she wiped her face.
But he grasped her wrist, not letting her get too far, “Don’t. Please, Y/n. You’re gonna break my heart.”
Y/n looked down at her wrist and back to Harry’s soulful gaze, “You’ll be okay. You’ll find someone better.”
He let go of her wrist and let out an incredulous laugh, “The fuck I will.”
He pushed himself off the small counter and walked to his window to look outside. His attitude had changed. Now he was clearly frustrated. Angry.
“You will,” she followed behind him but kept a small distance, “I promise.”
“So you’ll just be fucking whoever comes along that you like instead of me since my dad isn’t offering love to you. Is that what you wanted? Just company. No attachment? No love?”
That’s what she thought she wanted. Before she met Harry. In fact, she thought she’d be okay with just having Leo from time to time to fill in the physical parts of intimacy. The rest she could get from her friends.
But it all changed with Harry. Which is why she needed to stop it before it was too much. Before she was completely in love and had him ruined as well.
“I will be okay, Harry. I’m doing this because I want you to have everything you deserve.”
“Fuck that.” Harry turned to look at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want. You don’t want me? Fine. We’ll go back to how it was before. Except less friendly, I think, because I’m not sure I can handle being too friendly with you. If that’s what you want. Fine. I want you to have whatever your heart desires too, Y/n. And if that’s not me then I can’t change your mind.”
“Harry… that’s not how it is–“
“That’s exactly how it is. You’re here to break up with me. So we’ll break up. Despite how amazing we are together. We’ll just call it quits. Give up before we can really see what happens. Before we really even got going.”
“It’s because this was a mistake, Harry. This should have never happened, you and me. It’s only caused deep hurt and it will only grow worse if we continue.”
Harry nodded and looked up toward his ceiling to pull the tears back into his eyes, not wanting to let any more drop down over his cheeks, “You’re right.” He looked back at her and she could see a bit of anger rise in his demeanor, “This was a mistake.”
5. When In Greece
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kaikonn · 4 days
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Flirting scenes - Farmer boy teasing Shane, and then the kiss scene 🥹🥹🥹 help they’re soft
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