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soft4gguk · 2 years

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just a little... | jjk drabble

Description: jungkook x reader, best friends to lovers? fwb??

Content: mostly porn, but a little plot :) 18+

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: loads of making out, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, lots of dirty talking, spit kink?, aftercare

Author’s Note: shout out to jungkook and his competitive nature because this was totally based on the fact that he’s been diligently playing in the seom for days now and jumping levels like it’s easy <3 he’s so hot for that x

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

just a little…

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Jungkook,” you whine, eyes still glued to the screen, fingers not faltering once.

“You’ve been stuck on that level for five minutes now,” he whines back. “I don’t want Namjoon to catch up with me. Or worse – pass me.”

You roll your eyes, indifferent as you focus on the game. “You’re such a child.”

Those two seconds of distraction to voice your snarky remark put him at an advantage, snatching the phone from your grasp as he succeeds and gives a little noise of triumph. You snarl at him in half shock, half annoyance. You can’t believe him, he’s been so serious about this mobile game it’s pretty much taken all of his weekend, sleep and let’s not even mention his bank account. He’d cancelled on you and your friends on Friday night, though you didn’t push him, not a fan of crowded clubs with shitty music yourself. But then he’d cancelled brunch on you for Saturday, and so this is where your Sunday night found you. On a supposed movie night with your best friend, that so far has consisted on eating all the snacks you’d gathered for the scary movie of your choice and trying to beat level 100-and-something of this godforsaken game.

“Hah, cleared it. God, what took you so long?”

“Asshole, give it to me,” you reach for the phone yet again but he turns his body to you, keeping his phone at a distance. Okay, maybe you do get the obsession with it.

“Nope.”

“Come on, it’s my turn! You do one, I do one, remember?” Your voice mocks innocence, giving him a slight pout.

“That’s not gonna work on me this time. This is serious business.”

“Fine. Let’s tussle then.”

You all but jump him, arms stretched out trying to snatch the phone away from the vice like grip he has on it, fingers reaching out but it’s to no avail because his free arm blocks you from getting too far. You groan and whine, and even try to tickle him, and when all of these deem unsuccessful, you follow your competitive instinct, using your whole body as you try to get closer to him. You don’t necessarily know how it happens, but suddenly you’re wound up on his lap, legs at either side of him as you straddle him, hands reaching upwards as he stretches his arms above his head, phone yet again out of your reach.

“Give it,” you jump, “to me!” and with one last attempt, his phone is in your possession before you’re landing back on his lap rather abruptly, making him let out a grunt. Before he can even muster strength to fight back, you put a hand in front of his face, raising a brow as you say, “easy. Don’t even dare. I’ll just win one way or the other.”

And he doesn’t fight back. Mostly because as competitive as he is, he likes a clean game, and partially because he’s trying to shut down every nerve of his body you’ve just awoken the moment you fell onto his lap. He simply raises his hands in defeat and this makes you smile, giving a little celebratory dance that his dick very much appreciates. His moral? Not so much. Keep it together, he begs, though he doesn’t know who to address – you, him, or his brain who seems to be rapidly descending south.

“Fuck- whoever made this level must be a sadist.” Your contemplations receive no feedback, the room suddenly quiet after your previous ruckus but you don’t give it much thought, fully focused on the task at hand – literally.

Jungkook just observes you. He sees the way your face falls into deep concentration, a small frown taking over your features, wrinkling your forehead slightly as your eyes squint. Your eyes dance around the screen as they try to keep up with your fingers. It’s all cute to his eyes, but that’s no ground-breaking news to him, no. He’s well aware you’re cute – matter of fact, he tells you it all the time. You’re cute and smart, and so very pretty and it’s hard for it to go unnoticed, so yeah, he’s aware. What hits him like a glorious epiphany – heavenly choir and all – is that you’re also hot. Your lips are plump and cherry red, like you’ve been kissed for hours, and when your bottom one gets caught between your teeth, he has to close his eyes to try and compose himself and the thousands of inappropriate thoughts that swarm his head.

You’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake. The girl that sat next to him in the cafeteria on his first day of freshman year when college felt way too intimidating and your kindness seemed fake at first. You liked him even though he was an awkward and quiet kid, and you didn’t stop even when he grew into his confidence and became an obnoxious sophomore, fuck boy title well-worn and all. Now you’re both juniors and you still like him, could very well say you love him, even though he’s seemed to have combined the two – awkward and quiet and at times a fuck boy, shitty at texting back and prone to cancelling plans if he so happens to hyper fixate on silly things like mobile games and decorating islands for the little round characters on his screen.

So, he urges – no, begs his mind and body to keep it together. I mean, it’s not like you guys haven’t been physically close before. He’s pretty sure your love language is physical touch, and as for him? well, he’s just easy like that, giving in every time, being your designated little spoon and allowing his head to fall to your lap during movie nights, letting your hands run through his hair. It feels nice and warm, but it’s always been friendly. So, you being perched on top of him shouldn’t be sending him into a frenzy, but alas.

You snap him back into reality, catching him off guard when you’re letting out a big celebratory squeal as you clear the level. Your body engages in said celebration, specifically your hips, right against his crotch, much to Jungkook’s despair – or luck, he doesn’t even know at this point.

“Fuck,” he says before he can stop himself, hands coming down to hold firmly onto your hips to halt your movements.

You’re confused at first, finding his eyes with yours and realizing he’s just as puzzled, yet something else lingers in his dark ones. It takes a minute, but then it clicks – he’s not giving much away, gaze still in yours, seemingly clueless as to what just happened but you feel it. You feel it in the air around you that suddenly grows tense, and you most certainly feel it in the way his erection presses against your inner thigh, increasingly noticeable by the second.

You don’t know what to say, so you go by instinct, and instinct has you giving a subtle roll to your hips, eyes still locked on his so intensely you don’t miss the way his threaten to flutter closed the moment he feels you. His grip on your hips tightens and you do it again, a bit more determined this time, granting you friction as well. You’re wearing leggings, the thin material doing wonders as it molds perfectly against his jeans, and the feeling has you drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the flesh to suppress a moan.

Jungkook’s brain is static noise and you. The way you look, the way you feel – fuck, you haven’t even touched him yet, hands still glued to his damn phone like you’re not driving him to insanity right now. The soft material of your leggings has him wondering how the soft of your skin would feel in his hands, and he wants to touch you so badly, but he has no idea what the two of you are doing right now.

You don’t let him ponder on it for too long, because before he can plant the seed of a thought, you’re kissing him.

Phone discarded and long forgotten, you lean into him, hands on his shoulders as you bring your lips to his. It’s soft, a mere peck as if you were testing the waters, something innocent lacing your actions and he melts, letting his pink mouth form a little pout as he kisses you back. You keep it short and sweet, pulling away slightly and letting your lips follow with a bit more hesitancy. Nose still touching his, you let out a giggle.

“What are you doing,” he asks, lips slightly pouty still, like they’re betraying him.

“Just kissing you a little…” he can feel your minty breath on him when you say this.

He chuckles, but it’s soft. “Is this what we do now?”

He looks up at you, those big eyes of his that are always so starry bright boring into you and the answer is yes,

“This is what we do now.”

“Okay,” it’s a whisper, the word getting lost in the way your lips mold together, soft but passionate now that it’s been decided that you’re doing this – you’re kissing, just a little.

There’s no argument in the world that could convince Jungkook to pull away from your giving lips, from the way your body draws closer to his, hand draping around his nape as your nails scrape through the soft skin there. His tongue glides across your bottom lip, biting it some before you’re opening up for him, granting him access. Your hips circle slowly, tentatively, as your tongues mimic the movement and he groans against your mouth, pleasure settling into him quick like wildfire, and burning too.

His hands that had been obediently placed at your hips free themselves from his mental restraint and make their way to your ass, fingers stretching over your cheeks before he’s giving a harsh squeeze, making you mewl. You bring him closer with fervour, kiss him harder, encourage him to touch you further because that’s all that you want. You crave him so vehemently that there’s not an ounce of questioning behind your actions – just need.

Your hips pick up pace with the aid of his hands on your ass and Jungkook’s cock throbs inside the tight constraint of his jeans, you feel so good – layers and all – and it has him parting from your lips as his head falls to the back of the couch. The moan he lets out is like music to your ears and soon after you’re attaching your lips to the exposed skin at his neck, right above that mole you love so much. You always poke it, a you’re cute most likely following the action because he was, and you liked to let him know, because it only made him cuter.

What can you say? You’re weak. You’re so weak it clouds your judgement as you lick at the warm skin, puckering your lips before sucking, painting little purple blossoms in his pretty honey skin, all the way to his jaw.

Your hips don’t lose their pace, growing more impatiently the more your need for him turns physical. The outline of his cock so prominent against your clothed slit, your clit throbs with each movement he guides and it feels so good, but it’s not nearly enough as you grow uncomfortably wet between your legs.

It’s overwhelming – the way you move on top of him, the way you sound, and fuck, the way you look. So fucked out already and he hasn’t even done half the things he wants to do to you. Eyes glassy and lips ten shades of red and plump like ripe fruit, it’s no wonder that the minute he reconnects his lips with yours, his tummy tightens as the pleasure threatens to tip him over the edge.

He panics, hands coming to your waist to gently stall your movements and push you away, reluctantly. He has no doubt that another minute of your little dry humping session will have him blowing his load in his pants like a horny teenager.

“Shit- wait,” he pants, eyes closed but he can feel you pout against his lips, displeased.

“Why?” You kiss down his jaw again, and he subconsciously cocks his head to the side, granting you permission to kiss on top of the hickeys you’d left minutes prior.

“Felt like I was gonna cum,” he huffs, moaning softly when you run your tongue all the way to his earlobe, letting your teeth play with it gently.

You giggle and the vibrations against his skin sends shivers down his spine.

“Yeah? Don’t you wanna?” he can barely pay attention to what you’re asking, teeth nibbling at his most sensitive spots.

“No- yes. Fuck, yes.”

Another sweet giggle passes your lips and he cusses himself over how not-so-innocently it affects him. “Then let me make you cum.”

He’s never heard you be so crass, had never even discussed topics like the one you two were very much involved in right now – with each other. You’d always kept the tales of your hook ups vague, a simple nod from across the bar to make sure you were both safe and light teasing when the night was followed by hungover brunch and the walk of shame here and there. But now here he had you, dirty talking him. He was about to lose his damn mind.

“Should we be doing this?”

“Should we not? Am I making you uncomfortable?” Your question has softness attached to it, and when you look into his eyes, hands massaging his shoulders, he sees his best friend, just genuine and sweet.

“No. Far from, actually.” His hands travel back to your hips, hands sneaking inside your oversized sweater.

“Hm,” you smile, “then just…,” he kisses you before you can finish your sentence. “Yeah that. Just do that.”

Your kisses grow hotter by the second, charged with need as you allow yourselves to give into it entirely and it’s not much after that Jungkook’s grabbing a hold of your waist and laying you down on the couch. You smile up at him in that way he’d only gotten to see today, seductive and so very enticing he almost misses the way your hands trail down your body before they’re pulling your sweater off of you. Your bra’s a pretty lacy purple that leaves very little to the imagination, a silver bar peeking through the material.

“Oh?” He says, tone playful but you can tell he’s genuinely shocked.

“Do you like it?” You ask, hand cupping your breast and pushing the cup of your bra down to reveal the shiny piece of jewellery.

“Fuck, I love it.”

He kisses down your neck, tongue licking at your collarbones until his lips touch the soft skin of your breasts, sucking, making sure he returns the favour of that little number he’s sure you left all over his neck. Your fingers get lost in his dark hair, tugging at it the moment his mouth closes around your perk nipple, his tongue playing with the piercing, setting your every nerve ending on fire. You hiss, feeling overstimulated already and his mouth travels to your other nipple, kissing gently before he’s letting his lips glide across the supple flesh. You whimper when the silver hoop at the corner of his mouth touches you, the cold sensation surprising you as you choke out a moan.

“Can I take these off,” he asks as his index finger hooks inside the waistband of your leggings, gliding teasingly over your skin.

“Please,” it’s a whine, a desperate little sound that has his dick twitching in his pants.

“Fuck- don’t beg, baby.” He pleads, already walking close enough to the edge as it is just for you to quite literally turn into his every wet dream and further throw him off it.

“Don’t call me baby, then.” You tease, hips raising so he can pull the tight material off your legs.

He smirks, so devastatingly it has you clenching around nothing, a wave of arousal taking over you that there’s no doubt that your underwear is ruined by now.

“Why’s that? You like it a little too much?” He stands between your legs, lowering his body until his lips are hovering above yours.

“Just a little,” you capture his bottom lip in between yours, letting the softness linger in there.

“Just a little? The same way you were gonna kiss me just a little, hm?” He deepens the kiss, not a single pause as he dives straight in for passion, making you moan against his lips. It’s all that you can feel – his lips on yours, so much so that the gasp that leaves you is one of surprise when his digits find your clothed clit, circling around it deliciously slow.

“Fuck yes, that feels so good.”

“Wanna eat you out.”

“Just a little?”

“No. A lot actually, want you to cum all over my tongue.”

You moan, arching your back at his filthy words, another please leaving your lips as your nails scrape against his scalp in raw desperation. He’s in between your legs in a matter of seconds, big hands pushing your thighs apart as his hot breath hits your clothed cunt. You circle your hips at his proximity, silently pleading for more. His arm circles around your leg until his hand rests on top of your tummy, pushing into it slightly to keep you still; the pressure feels so good you can feel a new stream of arousal gushing out of you.

He doesn’t make you wait – he doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to, your scent alone intoxicating him to the point of hunger. He hooks his fingers inside your thong, pushing the flimsy material to the side until you’re revealed to him. His middle finger glides through your slit, parting your folds until your clit comes into view, so pretty and inviting it has his mouth watering at the thought of having a taste of you.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he says, teasing your opening as he collects your slick before circling it around your sensitive nub. You whimper at the feeling, eyes closing and fingers running through his soft hair, letting your body tell him how good you feel.

He gives a tentative lick, letting the thick of his tongue part your folds, licking you clean before his mouth is closing around your clit, making a mess of you all over again. Your lips part in a silent moan, basking in the pleasure his mouth provides. It’s overwhelmingly good, has your mind spiralling as your body asks for more.

He teases your opening with his tongue, fucking you with it and drinking your juices in – you taste so sweet it has him groaning against your cunt, rutting his hips into the sofa in need of friction. His fingers push past your tight walls, curling at your insides until he’s met with that spot that has your legs instantly shaking. You look down at him, picking up the smile that forms at his face in pride with the way his eyes get all puffy. He looks almost innocent like this, and you’d buy it if it weren’t for the lewd sounds that fill the room as he fucks his fingers into your wet cunt, slurping sounds coming from his lips as he licks and sucks at your clit, finding the perfect rhythm.

“You taste so good, could eat you out forever,” he breathes against your pussy, the vibrations inching you closer to your high.

“Yeah fuck, don’t stop, Kook. Don’t stop,” it’s a breathless moan, whimpers leaving your mouth as your body grows tense, the tell-tale signs of your orgasm taking over every inch of your body and he begins to read you, not wanting to miss a single detail about the way you’re coming undone for him, because of him.

His fingers stay inside of you, massaging your spongey wall and giving it their undivided attention. You’re crying out in pleasure, pushing his bangs away from his face as your gaze finds his, your pretty eyes widening in shock the more he throws you over the edge.

The tip of his tongue circles your clit slowly, so softly it’s barely there, contrasting with the force his fingers are working with inside of you. It feels so good, your focus dancing from one feeling to the other until the coil inside of you breaks and you’re throwing your body back against the couch, letting it all consume you.

“I’m c-cumming,” it’s a whisper that barely leaves you, body shaking in pleasure, eyes closing as you bite your lip so hard you can taste blood.

He hums, sending flutters down your tummy at the feel of it, mewling when his tongue doesn’t stop its ministrations, licking you clean, eyes on you as his fingers follow the same fate.

“Fuck you’re so sweet,” he says, tasting your arousal one last time.

“You’re good at that, Jesus Christ.”

He chuckles. “I’m good at a lot of things.”

“That so?” He nods, traveling up your body to capture your lips in his yet again. “Show me then.”

He kisses you deeply, lips only parting to allow you to yank his shirt off his body, allowing for you to run your hands all over him. He feels warm to the touch, the hard ridges of his toned body contrasting with the baby soft of his skin. You could touch him all day, feel the way he hisses into your mouth when your thumb grazes his nipple on its way down, tracing down his abs, feeling the way his tummy tenses at your touch in anticipation. You waste no time, eager hands palming at his cock through his jeans.

“Are you sure?” He looks at you, laughing softly at the string of saliva that connects you two for a second too long.

“Jungkook, you not fucking me right now could be what ruins our friendship. I need you so bad, I’m so serious.”

He laughs at this, shaking his head; he wants to tell you off for it, but he can’t find it in him. It still shocks him a little how you can be so casual about all of this. Nonetheless, his hands are making quick work of undoing the button of his jeans, letting your nimble fingers push down the zipper. He pushes himself free from the uncomfortable fabric, boxers joining, letting them slide down his legs. He sighs out in pleasure as his hard cock finally breathes.

All you can do is gawk at him – his length, his girth, the pretty vein that runs from base to tip. Jungkook has the prettiest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure to see and it makes your mouth water, pussy clenching at the mere thought of the delicious burn taking him all will set inside of you.

“You’re so big,” you speak your mind, unabashedly.

“You can take me, baby.”

Fuck yeah you can, and you will.

His hand reaches out for yours and you take it, letting him help you up from the couch and guide you towards his bedroom. You’ve made this journey a million times, but never has it felt this exciting. The lights in his room are dim, the soft blue and purple hues coming from his gaming set up illuminating it prettily.

Your bra comes off first, thong following its same fate soon after. You let yourself fall on top of his bed and he chuckles as you make yourself comfortable, being awfully used to the sight of you clogging the middle of the bed and getting cozy against his pillows, only this time you’re naked. Gloriously so, might he add.

He gets a condom from his bedside table before his knees hits the mattress, making his way to you and settling between your legs as you open them up for him.

“How do you like it,” he asks, sitting on his haunches as he massages your thighs.

You look up at him, giggling as his soft touch tickles your skin. “I want you on top.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you kick him lightly with your feet.

“Missionary, a classic. I like that.”

“Don’t call it that,” you whine, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Why?” He laughs.

“Makes me sound boring.”

“Oh, trust me, you’re far from.”

You give him that smile – your smile, and he melts. His body melts, too, falling on top of yours as he kisses you, the both of you laughing though you can’t tell why. He pulls away, only a little, bringing the little foil square between his teeth and ripping it open. You take it from him and grab a hold of the condom as he makes some distance between your bodies to let you glide it over his throbbing length. Even the slight contact from the act has him growing feral with desire.

“God, I need to fuck you now.”

“Fuck me now, Jungkook, please.”

His tip prods at your opening, the burn almost immediate as your walls stretch for him, face contorting slightly in both pain and pleasure as he pushes in, leaving tender kisses at the corner of your mouth, your cheeks, your temples, as he hisses in pleasure. He tries to pace himself, go as slow as he can as to not hurt you, the feeling of your warm pussy so tightly wrapped around his cock one he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Shit baby, you’re so tight around me,” he says, bottoming out, head falling down the crook of your neck. He stills, kissing at your warm skin, fingers running soothing circles over your hips.

“You can move… want you to fuck me, Kook.”

He looks into your eyes for any sign of hesitation but all he gets is lust, angling his hips back before he’s thrusting back in – hard. You gasp for air, a breathless moan leaving your lips as he rocks into you at a delicious pace. You feel so full, so supple under whatever spell he put on you when he let you kiss him, just a little.

And now he’s fucking you, hard and deep, sweaty bangs framing his beautiful face as his eyes fight a battle to stay open, mind too stubborn on not letting pleasure win because he wants to see you. He wants to see what he does to you painted all over your face, laced in every single moan and whimper that leaves your mouth, latched onto every tug at his hair and nip at his skin. He wants it all – he wants you all.

“Shit- you feel so good,” he pants, hands at either side of your head against the mattress, pretty red bitten lips parted in pleasure as the clenching of your walls have his tummy tensing, the vice like grip you have on him addicting, just like all of you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you sob, hand coming to push at the headboard to keep your head from hitting against it at the force of his hips. “I could get used to this.”

You voice out his thoughts, and there’s something about how bold you are about it that turns him on beyond means, makes him lose his mind and throw the last bit of rationality out the window.

“You could- we could,” your pussy clenches around him, legs wrapping around his waist. “Fuck baby please stop doing that or I won’t last long.”

“I c-can’t. I’m so close, Jungkook.” You cry, glassy eyes looking up at him.

You see the way his jaw locks, rearing up spit before he’s sitting back a little, letting a glob of saliva fall from his mouth right onto your mound, thumb gliding over your clit easily with the added lubrication. The dirty act sends the slow build-up of your climax into rapid fire, spreading through your body deliciously as he toys with your clit. Seconds after, he’s sending you right over the edge, pulling a second orgasm out of you and all you can do is shake and wail under him, your pussy massaging his cock with every clench of your walls.

“Nnngh- I’m gonna cum, fuck,” he lets out in between moans, hips stuttering a bit as he spills into the condom, the warm spasms of your walls milking him until he’s left hissing and cringing slightly in overstimulation.

You both just stay there for a minute, catching your breaths and trying to come back to your bodies. Jungkook smiles at you, pulling out of you a little reluctantly before he’s making his way to the bathroom to discard the condom.

When he comes back, he’s holding a towel, running it softly between your thighs – it’s wet and warm and feels soothing against your core. You blush a little, smiling at him and thanking him. He simply returns your smile, throwing the towel somewhere on his floor and throwing himself next to you on the bed, head cozying up into his pillows.

“So…,” you start.

“So…,” he mimics.

You both start laughing, unable to stand the tension that threatens to fall upon you, you simply do what you do best – laugh it out. It’s comforting, and feels good knowing that a little exchange of pleasure didn’t totally break your common sense.

“We just fucked,” you say.

“God, don’t make it sound so crass.”

You laugh at this. “Sorry, kind sir, we just engaged in sexual relations.”

“Much better.” His laugh follows.

“Do you think we’ll do it again?” Your question is sincere, albeit a little awkward.

“Don’t ask me that right now, I’m pretty sure my dick is still hard.”

You look down at it, wanting to see it for yourself, and surely enough, you’re met with confirmation to his suspicions.

“Well, I liked it,” you say, plopping back into the pillows, eyes fluttering slowly as sleepiness begins to fall over you.

“Me too…” he stares at the ceiling, exhaustion settling upon him, too.

“So, if you ever wanna… we can always… just kiss a little.”

Jungkook’s face grows angelic as he falls asleep, a smile on his lips that he’s pretty sure is still there when he wakes you up late into the night, in hopes that you want to kiss him a little, too.

I hope u enjoyed! if you did, please do let me know <33 also, stream more, left & right and proof!! okay love u loads xx

6K notes · View notes

heartateasee · 17 days

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PROMPT: (requested by @victoria-styles) “Y/N distracts Harry while he’s in the middle of writing a song.” - I’ve taken inspiration from this prompt, and I’ve tweaked it a bit! Instead, it’ll be Harry distracting Y/N during a work meeting over Zoom 🤭

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Warnings: Not much really - slight talks of smut, and slight masturbation (m). Very brief dom play.

Word Count: 1.1k

“So for this meeting, we’ll be going over the goals for the next month, as well as the new structure that’s going to be put in place for us to achieve those goals,” you heard your boss’ voice flowing through the speakers of your laptop as you sat at your kitchen table.

With a cup of coffee next to it, as well as a notebook with a pen, you were all set for your monthly meeting with the bigwigs of your at home job.

You were slightly rushed this morning as you and Harry were up late. You had insisted on going to bed early considering you knew you had this meeting this morning, but only a few minutes after the two of you had laid down in bed, his toned body ended up slotted between your thighs - his thick cock plunging in and out of you.

In order to give you more rest, Harry had set your alarm back thirty minutes after you had fallen asleep. He knew that you typically gave yourself too much time in the morning. He wanted you to have your rest after the two of you had your way with each other.

To say you were pretty pissed off about him changing your alarm would be an understatement. You had woken up to him cuddled against your back, and you could feel his morning wood nudging against one of the rounds of your ass. It caused you to giggle, and just before you were about to slip your hand into his briefs to help him out, thinking you had the time to do so, you caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.

From there your morning felt completely chaotic. Between you rushing to put on a decent appearance, to Harry following you around like a lost puppy with a hard on, you were surprised you actually sat down at the table on time.

Thankfully you didn’t have to dress up, just pulling on a nice sweater over the t-shirt of Harry’s you had on sufficed as they could only see you from the shoulders up really.

As the meeting really started up, you began to take notes - looking down at your notebook fully as you listened and scribbled. When you looked back up, you caught sight of Harry walking through to the kitchen behind your laptop.

You could tell he was shirtless, something that wasn’t uncommon for him, and you figured he had just gotten out of the shower with the way the water was dripping from the ends of his curls.

It wasn’t until he made it past your laptop, and into the actual kitchen that you saw his bare, plump, little ass that you loved so much out of the corner of your eye.

You had gone to take a sip of coffee, and the sight of his bum caused you to sputter the liquid back into your mug.

“Y/N, everything okay?” Your boss spoke up as you choked, and you nodded before holding a finger up to mute yourself.

Continuing to cough, you knocked your fist against your chest as you looked back over to Harry, and you could see the smirk on his face as he stood at the counter - his sight set on the fruit he was chopping up on a cutting board.

He was going to stand there and make his morning smoothie.

Naked.

Your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his muscular frame as you continued to catch your breath, but they really honed in on the sight of his prick hanging between his thighs.

He had gotten himself off in the shower, and he wanted you to know.

Not only did he want to distract you from your meeting as punishment for leaving him high and dry, but he also wanted to rub it in your face that he didn’t need you to get himself off. He knew you knew what his cock looked like just a few minutes after coming.

The scoff that left you did manage to get his attention, and you made eye contact just briefly before you were turning your attention back to the screen - clicking yourself off of mute.

As the meeting continued, you completely ignored Harry, and you continued to take your notes as normal.

That however came to a halt when Harry revved up the blender, and you had to quickly throw your hand against your mouse to mute yourself once again.

“Harry!” You exclaimed over the noise of the appliance as you lowered your laptop screen - just a bit so your colleagues could no longer see your face. “You’re joking right?”

Harry squinted, and his eyebrows narrowed as he cupped one of his hands over his ear. “Sorry! What? I can’t hear you right now!”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in annoyance, but you decided to go back to ignoring him - retrieving your headphones from your laptop bag that was in the chair next to you. You plugged them into your computer, and then shoved the earbuds into your ears as you continued to listen, but you kept yourself on mute.

Thankfully once Harry’s smoothie was finished, he stood in the kitchen - consuming it in silence.

You peeked over to him again after a few minutes to witness him cleaning up the kitchen, but then he turned around and caught your eyes on him.

Tongue pressed against the inside of his lower lip, you watched as one of his large, veiny hands traveled down his abdomen before wrapping around his shaft. His lips parted, and you couldn’t hear him due to your headphones, but you didn’t need to. You had that little gasp that he makes at the first bit of contact memorized.

“Alright everyone, that wraps up the meeting for today, are there any questions?” You heard someone in the meeting ask, but you didn’t even look back over.

You were completely fixated on the god-sculpted man, that you had the privilege of calling your boyfriend, in your kitchen as he worked his hand over his length to harden right in front of you.

“No? Well that’s that! If you think of anything, please just send one of us an email. Thank you all for your time, and we’ll see you again next month.”

The laptop was quickly shut, and the headphones were ripped from your ears as you pushed yourself up from the table before you quickly walked over to Harry.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, causing his own hand to leave his growing cock.

“You’ve been extremely naughty this morning,” your voice was stern as you spoke to him, and you watched as his pupils dilated. “I expect you in the bedroom on your knees while I finish up my coffee, pup.”

Harry nodded slowly, and you released his hand so it dropped by his side before you continued to speak.

“That’ll give me time to figure out which punishment suits you best.”

193 notes · View notes

writingforstraykids · 3 months

Note

I’m not sure if you do anything without reader, but I had this kind of crazy thought. You don’t have to answer this if you’re uncomfortable, because it’s a little weird I guess. What about dom Chan and dom Minho with sub Felix, and Felix is never allowed to touch himself without permission? One day, Chan and Minho go out, and come back to see Felix desperately humping his Leebit plushie with Wolfchan in his mouth and there’s just drool and cum everywhere 👀 What do you think they’d do to punish him?

Technically I wasn't touching

Pairing: Felix x Chan x Minho / Minchanlix

Word Count: 4982

Warnings/Tags: fluff, smut, sub!felix, dom!minho, dom!chan, edging, begging, felix doesn't do well with punishment, angst, soft!anxious!min, soft!chan, needy!lix, blindfold, daddy kink (Chanlix), color system

A/N: This got longer than expected😂 It gets a little angsty in the end, but it ends on a happy note. I hope you enjoy it🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Felix wanders through the now very empty apartment and sighs softly to himself. Minho and Chan left for their date night about an hour ago, promising him cuddles and kisses once they’d be back. It’s nothing unusual that two of them are out for separate dates once in a while. It’s a little tradition they’ve started early on to give each pairing in their throuple the chance to spend some quality time together. But with his hyungs gone, Felix started to get bored very quickly, and scrolling through his phone wasn’t his brightest idea.

Seeing all those pictures and edits of his boyfriends only made him long for them to care for him in every way possible. He misses Minho’s hand gripping his hair, his doe eyes watching him with such a fire it took his breath away every time. He misses Chan’s hands, bruising his skin as he pounds into him, whispering the dirtiest shit to him. He misses Minho’s tongue abusing his needy little hole, fucking him stupid in the most mindblowing positions. He misses Chan cornering him against a wall, making him hold back his whimpers and moans in public. Fuck, he really misses his boyfriends.

Felix grumbles softly to himself and makes his way to their shared bedroom, throwing himself into bed. He notices his two plushies comfortably seated against the pillow and frowns softly. Taking Leebit, he smells Minho’s signature cologne. Curiously, he grabs Wolfchan, being met with Chan’s cologne now. “Idiots,” he says fondly and presses the plushies to his face, inhaling the scent of his boyfriends. Felix fumbles for his phone and debates texting his boyfriends for a moment.

Felix stares at the screen for another ten minutes, and his frustration grows with every passing minute. Of course, they wouldn’t text back. They were having a date. He shifts on the mattress, and his dick rubs against the crumpled blanket beneath him. A soft little moan escapes his lips at the feeling, and he bites his lower lip hard. He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t. He promised them.

But…he wasn’t actually touching himself like that, right?

Felix repeats the movement of his hips, and a heavy sigh falls from his lips at the needed friction. He blushes at how loud he sounds in the empty apartment and buries his face further into his Wolfchan, stifling the following noise escaping him. He doesn’t fully know what makes him do so, but it doesn’t take long, and he’s shoving Leebit beneath his body, lifting his hips and grinding down against the plushie, crying out in relief as it finally creates the friction he needs. Felix hastily pushes down his pants and boxers, grinding down against the plushie eagerly.

Chan giggles, seeing the message from Felix as Minho went to the bathroom. He rolls his eyes playfully and decides to wait for his boyfriend. Minho comes back after a moment, looking as beautiful as ever. His dark pants and shirt hug him in all the right places. His sleeves are rolled up a little, giving Chan a delicious view of Minho’s beautiful arms and elegant hands. A silver bracelet on his left wrist matches the necklace peeking through the unbuttoned collar. A few rings decorate his fingers, and Chan can’t stop himself from staring as he makes his way to the table.

Minho sits down, blowing a strand of his currently black hair from his face, and tilts his head at Chan, rather amused. “You’re done staring?”

“At you? Never,” he smiles softly, and Minho’s amusement yields to a soft blush covering his cheeks. “I know I’ve told you before, but you look very handsome tonight.”

“Thank you,” he smiles sheepishly. “You look stunning yourself, Channie love.” He really does. Chan’s wearing a black suit, refraining from wearing a shirt beneath the jacket, giving Minho a perfect view of his neck adorned with the small bracelet. A pair of silver earrings highlight his dark hair, a few strands falling beautifully into his forehead. Minho’s eyes wander further down, making him smile as he spots the bracelet matching his own. “How’s our sunshine?” he asks curiously. “How you giggled at your phone when I left can only mean he texted.” Chan snorts softly at how well Minho knows him and shows him the text message.

Sunshine💛: I really miss you guys🥺❤️ can I touch myself, pretty please?

A soft smirk settles on Minho’s lips, and he raises his eyebrows at Chan. “Already?”

“Well, it’s been two weeks,” he laughs.

“Of course, it has been,” Minho rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair comfortably. “I told him it would if he keeps acting up, which he did.”

“Should we release him tonight?” Chan suggests, and Minho picks up his drink, glancing at him amused.

“Gosh, you’re such a softie,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “Fine, we can,” he gives in, a mischievous glint shimmering in his chocolate orbs. “It’s not like I didn’t miss those pretty little whimpers.”

“Me too,” he smirks and unlocks his phone. “So, no touching until then.”

Minho hums softly and finishes his drink. “Let’s go?”

“Someone’s impatient,” he giggles.

“I miss my Lixie,” he pouts at him, and Chan types a quick message.

Channie hyung🖤: Patience, baby boy, we’ll be home soon🖤

After paying, Chan intertwines his hand with Minho’s, strolling out of the restaurant with him. “Let’s see what our good boy is doing, huh?”

Minho giggles softly as he closes the door, and Chan pulls him into a kiss. He kisses back fiercely, making a soft sound as Chan bites his lower lip teasingly. “Okay, come on, let’s…,” his voice trails off as he hears it. “Is he? Fucks sake, Felix,” he growls quietly and pushes past Chan toward their bedroom.

Chan follows him, and his eyes widen as soon as they enter the doorframe. Felix is fully undressed on his knees in the middle of their bed. His long, blond hair falls around his head messily, partly sticking to his sweaty forehead. Chan needs a moment to comprehend that Felix is biting down on his Wolfchan plushie to stifle the sinful noises leaving his mouth.

Minho blinks, stunned at the sight of Felix eagerly grinding down against something. Drool is dripping down his chin from biting on the plushie, and there’s cum all over his pretty thighs and stomach. The sight alone makes him hard but fuels his anger before he can do anything against it. That definitely went against their rules and agreements.

Chan’s lips part with a groan as he realizes what exactly Felix is so desperately humping, and he involuntarily grips Minho’s hip tightly. “You have to be kidding me,” he says out loud, and Felix flinches at the sound of his voice, staring at them with wide eyes.

Minho closes the distance and grabs his chin, freeing Wolfchan from his mouth and glaring down at him. “Felix,” he says dangerously low.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with wide eyes, fear spreading through his body in an addictive rush. “Please.”

“Please, what, baby?” Minho spits out. “One rule. One rule, and you can’t keep it. Why?”

“I-I got needy, and you-you didn’t respond, and I thought-” he starts out, growing smaller beneath Minho’s firm gaze.

“Thought what? That we wouldn’t notice you were touching yourself without our permission?” he asks sharply.

“Technically, I wasn’t touching,” he mumbles, and Minho’s gaze hardens.

“Technically, you fucked up no matter how you put this,” he snorts.

“I just thought-”

“Wrong thought, pretty boy,” Chan chimes in from behind, slowly stepping next to Minho to avoid Felix agitating him even more. “I thought we could trust you with this,” he says, clearly disappointed, shattering Felix’s heart.

“Channie babe,” he whispers nervously.

“Nah, don’t try to sweet talk now, you messed up,” he shakes his head.

“I missed you two so much,” he tries, eyes getting teary. “I swear I didn’t mean to; I just needed to...”

“You’ve been a brat, which is why. And now you’re being an even bigger brat than before,” Minho reminds him and huffs at him. “Look at the mess you made,” he groans.

“Get up,” Chan says calmly, and Felix’s eyes widen, realizing why. His eyes flicker to Minho, and there’s a pleading look in them as they meet Chan’s again. “I won’t say it again.”

He does, and Minho’s jaw drops, spotting Leebit beneath his boyfriend. “And you traumatized Leebit in the process!”

Chan has to bite back a laugh at that and gently nudges Minho, who also bites back a grin. “God, look at you getting so desperate you’re fucking our plushies.”

“Under any other circumstances, I might’ve found it adorable,” Minho adds, sighing.

“I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you. Please, I’ll do everything,” Felix starts begging, staring at them with wide, teary eyes. “I promise to be good; I didn’t want to make you mad.”

“Oh, sunshine,” Minho sighs and cups his cheek, soothingly brushing his thumb across his cheekbone. “You do realize we have to punish you now for breaking our rules, right?”

Felix swallows softly but nods compliantly.

“You’ll be a good boy and take it?” Chan asks, growing a little softer for a moment as well. Felix nods eagerly and folds his hands in his lap. “Speak up, Lix.”

“I’ll be a good boy, daddy,” he nods, and Chan seems to be satisfied.

“Such a shame, right before we would've taken care of you,” Chan sighs.

“I didn't know,” Felix pouts softly.

Minho laughs at him. “If you wouldn't have been busy humping my plushie, you would've gotten our message.”

“Oh,” he whispers, clearly embarrassed, and Minho seems to have a little pity on him, cupping his face and planting a quick kiss on top of his hair.

“God, look at the mess you made,” he laughs and brushes back his sweaty hair for him, humming softly as Felix leans into his touch. “Channie love, can you get a towel or something?” Chan nods agreeingly and walks to the adjoined bathroom. Minho gently wipes away the drool from his chin with his thumb and sighs softly, looking down at him, yearning for his simple touch. “Was it really that bad that you couldn’t wait?”

Felix lowers his gaze. “I just really missed your touch.”

“Well, stop being such a tease then; you know I don’t joke around when I tell you there’ll be consequences,” he laughs gently and thanks Chan silently, taking the towel from him. He wipes his face first before cleaning his stomach and thighs. Minho pushes him onto the mattress more or less gently, pinning his hands down and tilting his head at him with a smirk. “Now. What will it be?” he asks, and Felix swallows softly. “We could use you until we’re both satisfied,” he suggests, and Felix’s pupils darken at the thought. “But maybe we’ll just make you watch instead,” Minho adds, and there’s a fearful flicker in Felix’s chocolate eyes at that idea. “Maybe I’ll let your beloved daddy fuck me stupid instead, and you can’t do anything but watch and long it’s you.”

Chan smirks at that thought and steps behind Minho, wrapping his arms around his waist, hand running down his stomach, cupping him through his pants. Minho moans sinfully, purely to tease Felix with the idea. Chan buries his nose in his neck and kisses him sweetly, pulling him back against his body fiercely. “Maybe we’ll blindfold him, and he can listen only, kitten.”

Minho smirks, licking his lips, and melts into Chan’s so familiar firm touch. “Would you like that, baby boy?” he asks teasingly, pressing back against his hyung. Chan shudders against him, clearly worked up already as well.

“No, please,” Felix whimpers, squirming on the bed as his boyfriends gaze down at him amused.

Felix scrambles onto his knees and nods quickly. “Yes, Minho hyung, I can do that,” he answers, almost crying with relief at the thought of getting stuffed to the brim by Chan.

“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you,” Minho snickers and lets go of his wrists, reaching back to tangle his hand in Chan’s hair. “I’m all in with the blindfold,” he nods, and Felix gulps nervously. “You had a long day; he should make it up to you first,” he continues and soothingly scratches Chan’s hair. “Felix,” he speaks up firmly, and Felix’s wide eyes meet his expectantly. “I want you to take care of our Channie hyung, you hear me? No touching for you, you won’t touch Chan, you won’t touch yourself.”

“You won’t cum until I say so,” he continues, and Felix shudders softly. That would be rough, given the pure need spreading through his veins like wildfires. “We’ll see how we go from there.”

“Okay,” he nods and glances at them, unsure about the next move.

“Well, prepare yourself, sunshine,” Minho urges.

“But, I-,” he stammers, heart sinking. He really hoped Minho would at least eat him out or Chan’s fingers would stretch his hole so perfectly.

“You were so eager to get things done yourself only minutes ago; you’ll manage,” Minho says and turns in Chan’s hold, giving him a firm kiss. He roams his hands down his body, squeezing his bum and smirking as he feels Chan growing hard against him, straining against the fabric of his pants. Minho fumbles them open and slips his hand into his pants, wrapping it around Chan’s dick and stroking him lovingly. “Let’s see if our boy can finish the job, huh,” he says, and Chan’s lips part with a soft groan at the obscene noise leaving Felix’s mouth as he pushes the first finger inside.

Felix whimpers as he stretches himself out enough to take Chan later and blushes heavily at the hungry but adoring looks his boyfriends give him. He spreads his legs for them to give them a better view and shivers as he notices Minho stroking Chan.

Only a little later, Minho has fully undressed Chan, and he’s on his back, guiding Felix into his lap. A mutual relief floods their systems as Chan is buried fully in Felix’s tight heat. Minho climbs onto the bed behind Felix, getting on his knees between Chan’s legs and pulling out a piece of fine silk. “Relax, alright?” he asks Felix, who nods quickly, dying to move. Minho covers his eyes, tying the fabric behind his head, and ensures it’s in place. “Too tight?” he checks in.

“No, it’s fine,” Felix assures him, taking a deep breath at his loss of sight.

“You know your colors, baby boy?” he asks, and Felix nods quickly. “We can stop or take a break whenever you need to, remember?”

“Yes, hyung,” he says sweetly, and Minho gently squeezes his shoulders.

“You can start moving then,” he says, and Felix experimentally lifts his hips before sinking back down onto him. Chan’s head drops back into the pillow at this, and pleasure slowly floods his face, increasing with every roll of Felix’s hips. Minho stays behind Felix to mirror the situation and chuckles when Chan soon gets a little frustrated, ever needy for more.

“Lix,” Chan groans. “Stop being sloppy, you're usually not that shy,” he curses softly, and Felix whines in response.

Minho gently slaps his butt. “Come on, pretty boy.”

“Can’t,” Felix whimpers, and looking a little closer, Minho notices how hard his thighs are trembling already.

“Felix,” Minho says, and Felix fears the worst already until his hyung starts laughing. “Please tell me you didn't spend your all on Leebit and have nothing left for Chan.”

“I-uh,” he stammers, eyes brimming with tears behind the blindfold. “I'm sorry.”

“God, you're such a dumb baby,” Chan laughs, now knowing what's the issue. “So needy you're too tired now. Well, you'll have to take your punishment then.”

Minho giggles as Chan plants his feet on the mattress, grabbing Felix's hips. “No touching,” he reminds him as Felix wants to steady himself on Chan's chest. He scoots closer and wraps his arms around him, letting him lean against him.

Felix shudders at Minho's hands lingering on his skin, suddenly very aware of him behind him. He can feel his breath ghosting over the back of his neck, warm hands resting on his stomach. The fabric of Minho's shirt feels nice against his bare skin, and he can't bite back a soft moan at the feeling. “Minho hyung,” he whimpers, and Minho chuckles, teasingly roaming his hands all over his stomach and up to his chest. At the same time, Chan sets a fast, harsh pace that has him bouncing on top of him. Felix can't do much besides moaning and babbling nonsense, head dropping back against Minho's shoulder weakly.

“Dumb baby can't even finish the job on his own,” Chan growls at him, his grip on his hips bruising. His head falls back in pure bliss as Felix clenches around him with a whimper, and Minho gently rubs his thigh. “God, Felix, you're so tight,” he groaned.

“Such a good boy, making our Channie hyung feel so good,” Minho praises him, fingers brushing over his nipples.

“Minho, please,” he whimpers.

“Please, what?” Minho asks patiently, hand only running down to his lower abdomen and stopping right before where he needed him most.

“I'm so close,” he whimpers.

“No, no, no cumming until I say so, Lixie boy,” he shakes his head. “You've been a bad little boy, and our hardworking Channie hyung deserves to feel good. So you'll wait like the good boy you promised to be.”

Chan moans out about as loud at his praise as Felix does at his scolding. “Fuck, kitten,” he curses and pounds up in him. “He feels so good.”

Minho smirks and gently rubs his thigh. “Mhm, hear that, Felix? You're doing a great job.” Minho frowns as he doesn't get an answer, and glancing down, he notices Felix is digging his nails into his own thighs so hard he draws blood. A soft sniffle can be heard, and Felix's moans sound whiny and wet. Minho changes positions, sitting on his knees in front of him and spreading his legs so Chan can still move beneath him. “Lix, baby?” he asks softly and takes off the blindfold. “Color?”

“G-Green,” he choked out, eyes rolling back with a weak moan. “Hyungie, please.”

Minho's eyes widen as Chan teasingly grabs his bum with one hand, squeezing gently. He presses back with a soft moan, knowing that nothing set off Chan as much as the pleasure of his partners. Judging by Felix's desperate face, he couldn't keep it in long anymore. Maybe he'd have to help a little. He starts grinding down against Chan's firm stomach, moaning genuinely at the friction. “Feels so good, Channie hyung, making your boys feel so good,” he tells him, drawing his next moan out, not quite picking up on how hard he makes it for Felix to focus. “Stop that,” he tells Felix very gently and takes his hands to stop him from digging his nails even deeper into his thighs.

Felix shudders and feels his stomach tightening painfully. “Daddy,” he whimpers.

“Don't try begging him now,” Minho says, giggling at the guttural groan leaving Chan. Chan tenses up beneath them, pounding his dick into Felix with a few desperate moans, and coats his walls with his release. Chan has barely moaned out Felix's name as Felix already spasms with a cry. Thick ropes of cum cover his stomach, his thighs…and Minho's expensive shirt. Minho blinks down at the mess, a little stunned, before his eyes are back on Felix, who's slumping forward. He catches him in his arms as Felix sobs into his chest, apologizing timidly and crying out as Chan is still moving. His grip on his shirt is tight as one desperate, broken moan after another is being punched out of him.

“Minho, hyung, I'm sorry,” he cries, and Minho's heart drops a little. “Feels so good, can't-,” he breaks off with a shout as Chan hits his prostate.

“Felix,” Minho tries to be firm, but he can't. Not when he is such a mess as he had never been before, sobbing from pleasure and guilt into his chest.

“I'm so close,” he sobs. “So sensitive, so good, daddy,” he cries, and Chan's eyes roll back with a loud moan.

Minho watches Felix worriedly and scoots as close as possible, hugging him tight. “You're okay,” he whispers only for him to hear. “You can cum, don't hold back.” Minho kisses his hair and feels Felix gripping the back of his shirt tightly as he soon tenses up again and chokes on a sob. “Color?”

“Y-Yellow.”

“Channie hyung, slow down,” Minho says, and Chan does immediately. He gently lifts Felix off Chan's lap and pulls him into his arms. Chan doesn't waste much time and lifts them both into his lap, leaning against the bed frame.

He worriedly rubs his back and tries to meet Felix's eyes. “Felix, baby, you're okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn't,” he quickly assures him and nuzzles his face into his touch as he cups his cheek. “Felt so good, promise.”

Minho lovingly runs his hand through his hair. “You got a little overwhelmed, love?”

Felix shakes his head and sniffles softly, shivering heavily in their arms. “I just feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Chan asks puzzled, and grabs a blanket to cover them all and ensure Felix won't get cold.

“For what?” Minho asks gently, and Felix contorts his face in embarrassment. “You can tell us, sunshine.”

“For breaking the rule,” he says timidly and doesn't dare to look at them. “And I didn't take proper care of you, Chan, and…and I made a mess all over you, Minho, even though you told me not to,” he says, and big tears spill down his cheeks. “I'm sorry for messing up repeatedly; please don't hate me.”

“Felix, baby,” Chan says soothingly, running his hand through his hair. “It's okay, it happens.”

“We don't hate you. We never would,” Minho firmly shakes his head.

“But you didn't touch me in two weeks,” Felix whimpers softly, knowing he's being ridiculous. He got kisses, long hugs, and cuddles…just no sex, not after teasing Minho that badly in public and almost getting him into trouble.

Minho's face falls, a sudden anxious hint clouding his expression and filling his eyes. “Lixie,” he breathes out, heart sinking to his stomach. “I didn't-I'd never-,” he stutters, looking at Chan for help.

“Minho only did that because it was the consequence you agreed to when he told you to stop teasing,” he says gently. “Not because he hates you.”

“I thought it would be okay,” Felix says quietly and sniffles. “But it wasn't. Wanted you so bad it hurt.”

Minho feels his eyes brimming with tears and blinks stubbornly. “You should've told me, baby,” he says softly and cups his face. “I should've known.”

“I'm sorry,” Felix rasps timidly.

“No, I am,” Minho shakes his head and searches his eyes. “I should've noticed,” he says, biting back tears as Chan's hand finds his lower back, squeezing his hip. “I'm sorry, baby,” he whispers, pulling him into a tight hug, burying his face in his hair. He meets eyes with Chan, who flashes him a gentle smile and swallows thickly. His heart pounds in his chest as Felix buries himself in his chest, holding onto him tightly. “I love you so much, okay?”

“I know,” Felix says softly and squeezes him tightly. “Just missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Minho tells him sincerely, blinking stubbornly, not wanting to cry.

Felix lifts his head a little and kisses Minho's neck very gently. “I love you too, hyungie.”

A shuddering breath leaves Minho's lips, and he closes his eyes, grip tightening around him. A hot tear slips down his cheek, and before he knows it, Chan's there, pulling them both into one of his warm hugs. He curses himself mentally because being in Chan's arms, his safe place always tempts him to show his emotions freely. He bites his lower lip stubbornly but breaks when Chan plants a kiss on his hair, and Felix nuzzles his face into his neck. A soft sound escapes his lips, and the hold of his boyfriends tightens immediately. Hot tears spill down his cheeks before he can do anything against it, and he curls in on himself a little, trying to hide.

“Minho hyung,” Felix whispers, shocked, helplessly cupping his face and uselessly wiping his tears. “Don't cry, hyungie, I'm sorry.”

Minho firmly shakes his head and sucks in a sharp breath as Chan kisses his temple and pulls him in close. “Kitten, it's okay,” Chan tells him, kissing his hair and glancing down at him. “Lixie knows you didn't want to hurt him.”

Minho looks up at Felix through tears and grabs his hands. “I'd never hate you, you hear me? I swore to always keep you safe with me.”

“I know,” Felix nods quickly and intertwines their fingers. “I got insecure, I know you don't.”

“I love you so fucking much, sunshine,” Minho sniffles and giggles wetly as Felix hugs him very tightly. “God, you don't even know,” he whispers, burying his face in his hair.

“My boys,” Chan coos softly and cuddles them close. “I love you two so much.”

“We love you too, Channie hyung,” Felix answers for both of them.

“Let me clean you up, okay?” Minho asks gently and wipes his cheeks quickly.

“But you didn't even get to cum,” Felix points out guiltily.

“Don't worry, I'm alright,” Minho shakes his head and searches his eyes. “Please?”

Chan gently squeezes Felix's thigh, giving him a subtle hint. “Okay,” he nods gently.

“I'll draw you two a bath,” he announces and slips out of their hug, wrapping the blanket tightly around them.

Felix watches him worriedly, and once Minho's busy in the bathroom, he glances at Chan. “I hurt him, didn't I?”

Chan looks after Minho thoughtfully before glancing down at him. “I don't think you hurt him…he's probably just worried now to cross your boundaries.”

“I'm sorry, Channie,” he whispers, and Chan's hold on him tightens.

“Baby, it's okay. It's good that you told us. I didn't realize you were feeling this way either,” he tells him, kissing his head. “Minho is serious when he says he has a soft spot for you. Yeah, I know he gets really sweet and needy with me if he wants to and sometimes is a little bossy with you, but…he'd stop whatever he's doing if you need him. No matter how, no matter where he is.”

Felix chews on his lower lip. “Just want him to feel safe with us like I do with him. He's been so open and happy lately; I don't want to ruin that.”

“You're not. You won't,” Chan reminds him, kissing his forehead and soothingly caressing his hair.

Minho comes back and seeing the shimmer in his eyes, his fingers nervously tapping against his thigh, Chan knows he heard them. “I'm…everything's ready.”

Felix makes grabby hands in his direction. “Carry me, please?”

Minho chokes on his giggle, face softening as he steps closer. “Come here, baby boy,” he says softly and scoops him up. Felix clings to him, and Minho briefly buries his face in his shoulder, planting a tiny kiss there before carrying him to the bathroom. He lowers him into the warm water, smiling at the little sigh that escapes his lips. Minho gently brushes back his hair and flashes him a timid smile. “Feels good?”

“Yeah,” Felix nods, beaming at him tiredly.

Chan joins them with some fresh clothes for the three of them. He puts them down by the sink for now and steps in front of Minho. “Kitten?”

“Hm?” he hums, eyes flickering at him anxiously.

Chan smiles softly and soothingly rubs his shoulders. “You're perfect, you know that?” he asks gently, and Minho's eyes brim with tears.

“I don't,” he whispers, lowering his gaze guiltily at the pain in Chan's sweet chocolate orbs.

“Minnie baby,” he breathes out and pulls him into the tightest hug so far.

Minho closes his eyes feeling as if Chan puts all his broken pieces right back together. He doesn't really pay attention to the sound of water splashing, but suddenly, Felix is right behind him, hugging him just as tight. Minho giggles at the feeling. “Baby, you're making everything wet.”

“Not my first mess today,” Felix teases lightly, and Minho can't hold back a genuine laugh. “Join us, please?”

“I can't,” he shakes his head, and Felix's face falls worriedly, looking at Chan.

“Why's that, kitten?” Chan asks calmly.

Minho pulls back and blushes furiously. “Because I'm…uhm,” he squirms a little and bites his lower lip before whispering his little secret. Since leaving the house with Chan today, a certain favorite toy has been resting between his clenching walls.

Chan's eyes widen. “The whole time?”

Minho nods shyly. Felix giggles at him, and after a glance at him, Minho blushes even more. “I wanted to give you the remote to tease me, but that's when we decided to go home.”

“Once Channie and I aren't such a mess anymore…can we take care of you?” Felix asks softly, and Minho almost moans out loud at the thought.

Whenever the three of them were together, Felix, their little baby, was the natural center of attention, and he didn't mind one bit. The thought of not only Chan but Felix focusing solely on him already made him painfully hard. “Please,” he whispers before he can think it through.

Chan smiles, relieved, as Felix seems to have found a way to show Minho how much they loved him without hovering. “If that's what my kitten wants, it's what he'll get.”

Minho smiles shyly before waving them off. “Come on now, you two are a sticky mess.”

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@bunnystruggles @atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @rylea08

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sunkissed-zegras · 3 months

Note

hi!! can i please request 💘 a valentines blurb with luke? thank you! 🫶🏻

𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 1.2k

♡ ─ warnings | a little angst, reader HATING valentine's day, but tooth rotting fluff and lukey being a nervous wreck!

♡ ─ ev's notes | thank you so much for requesting! enjoy!!

Valentine's Day was the one day of the year you hated. Ever since you were a kid, it was miserable watching all the couples get flowers and chocolate, all while watching them make out in the hallway. You weren't one of those people who was very outspoken about your hatred for Valentine's Day, you silently suffered.

You didn't understand why everyone wanted to show off their significant other on Valentine's Day, was it even that special? As you grew older, your disdain for Valentine's Day didn't fade; if anything, it intensified. You couldn't comprehend why expressions of affection had to be confined to a single day, why love couldn't be celebrated every day if it was real.

Each year, Valentine's Day served as a painful reminder of your own loneliness as you watched as friends and acquaintances gushed over their romantic gestures. Your social media pages were flooded with pictures of candlelit dinners, bouquets of roses, and heart-shaped chocolates. Meanwhile, you sat alone in your bedroom watching sadly as you ate the chocolate your parents had gotten you. You tried to look on the bright side, the chocolates were half off the next day!

"Tomorrow's Valentine's day, are you excited?" Your friend grinned at you as you sighed. Like every other day, you had no Valentine, just a bunch of homework.

"Yeah, sure." You replied with a forced smile. As the conversation continued, you listened politely, nodding while your mind wandered elsewhere. Thoughts of your own loneliness crept in, reminding you of the countless Valentine's Days spent alone, surrounded by homework instead of flowers, immersed in assignments instead of going out for dinner.

"Wait, aren't you dating that Luke guy?"

You shook your head. You guys were simply "talking", if you'd even call it that. You guys text and hung out all the time but it was never more than that, he had never expressed anything more than friendliness and the occasional flirting. After a few more minutes of talking with your friend, you excused yourself to go up to your dorm.

As you made your way back to your dorm, the conversation with your friend lingered in your mind. The mention of Luke stirred the feeling of disappointed inside of you. As you reached your dorm room, you sank onto your bed, the weight of loneliness settling heavily upon your shoulders. Tomorrow, while the world celebrated love in all its forms, you would be left alone.

Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through the messages with Luke, wondering if there were hidden signs or hints that you had missed. The words on the screen were friendly, filled with inside jokes but the elusive spark of romance was never there other than a few "flirty" texts, if you'd even call it that.

You were pulled out of your mind with a soft knock on your door. Startled by the unexpected interruption, you glanced at the door, wondering who could be visiting you right now.

Opening it, you found Luke standing there with a casual smile. "Hey." he greeted, "Mind if I come in for a bit?"

You welcomed him into your dorm room, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the space. As you settled back into your seats, there was a moment of awkward silence, but Luke quickly broke it.

"So, any exciting plans for tomorrow?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours. He looked a little nervous as he met your eyes but you didn't think too much of it.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to share your inner thoughts or keep up the facade of nonchalance. Eventually, you decided to be honest.

"Well, not really. Just the usual," you replied, trying to gauge his reaction as you shrugged.

"Oh. Well, uh..." Luke stammered as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. Your heart began to race. "We've been talking a lot and I just... Well, I like talking to you. Like, a lot."

As Luke's words hung in the air, you felt a rush of emotions swirling within you. You searched Luke's eyes, seeking reassurance, seeking validation, seeking answers to questions that lingered unspoken between you. A mixture of relief settled within you. Could it be that the connection you shared went beyond just friendship? Your mind raced with possibilities, and a hopeful smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

With a steadying breath, you summoned the courage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "I like talking to you too, Luke. More than I can say."

He returned the sweet smile as he let out a relieved breath. "Okay, good. So... no Valentine, right?"

"Right." You laughed as you shook your head.

"Then... can I be your Valentine? We can go out to eat and... If you're up for it after we can go watch movies and then... well I'm not sure. I've never had a Valentine." He let out a nervous laugh as he watched you like an eagle, watching every move. It was obvious he was very anxious as he picked at the skin on his hand.

"Yeah, me neither." You couldn't help but grin, you heart racing. "It's okay we can figure this whole Valentine thing together." You laughed and he joined you, his demeanor relaxing.

With a gentle nod, you affirmed his question, "Yes, Luke. I'd love for you to be my Valentine."

Luke's nervousness melted away, replaced by a warm smile, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The tension that had hung thick in the air dissipated, replaced by a newfound sense of excitement and anticipation. "Cool. Okay, great."

You smiled up at him as he watched you, letting out a sigh of relief. As silence took over, you both just stared at each other and you could see Luke look between your eyes and lips. You got on your tippy toes and gave him a sweet kiss, his hands landing on your lips. It was a short kiss but it made your whole body hot.

"Okay. So, dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah." You replied breathlessly. As his hands left your body, you felt yourself become disappointed.

"I have practice and I'm already a little late." Luke explained with a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I have some homework to do, also... so I'll see you tomorrow?" You replied as he nodded.

As Luke made his way to the door, a sense of longing lingered in the air, a palpable reminder of the fleeting moment shared between you. The memory of his touch still tingled on your lips, a bittersweet echo of the connection you had discovered in the warmth of that embrace.

Luke sighed and turned around, pulling you in for another quick kiss and immediately pulling away. "Okay, now I gotta go."

You laughed as Luke hurriedly left your dorm room, the lingering warmth of his kiss lingered on your lips, igniting a blush that spread across your cheeks. As the door clicked shut behind him, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, the memory of his touch still tingling on your lips. Despite the brevity of the encounter, it was enough to ignite a spark of anticipation within you; Valentine's Day wouldn't be so bad this year.

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skyewritesstuff · 6 months

Text

tim mcgraw (peeta's version)

my masterlist.

entry 1 in my (taylor's version) songfic series.

summary: of all the ways the games could take peeta from you, you never imagined it to be like this.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (set during the aftermath of the first book)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: none, it's just sad!

notes: based on tim mcgraw by taylor swift. has been beta read.

word count: 3.4k

Peeta Mellark.

You’d heard his name spoken countless times in your life. Teachers called on him, hoping for an answer. His father confronted him on whether or not the daily tasks for the bakery had been completed. You’d asked him to go on walks with you, to teach you how to bake, and to lay on your backs in your small backyard, staring up at the night sky.

However, when Effie Trinket spoke his name, she wasn’t simply asking for a tribute; She was sentencing him to death.

The walk to the room where the blonde was being held, awaiting the impending trip to The Capitol, felt like it took days. The stares of the other District 12 residents made you feel as if you’d been selected yourself, but in a way, it felt like you had. You knew that the second the cannon fired in the arena and Peeta’s handsome features were shown on screen for the final time, a part of you would go with him. It was inevitable.

As soon as you were ushered behind the heavy wooden doors, you locked eyes with the blonde. He very visibly released a breath that he must not have even realized he’d been holding before stepping forward.

The peacekeeper’s gruff voice from behind you broke your trance, “You have three minutes.”

Tears brimmed behind your lashes. “Peeta…” Your voice cracked and his name exited your lips sounding more like a question, as if you were asking him if this was reality.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You didn’t know whether to finally let those tears fall or to scream and push at him, hoping to knock some sense into him that this was not going to be okay. However, the shakiness in his voice indicated that he might’ve already been aware of this.

“N-No…No, it’s not…it’s never going to be okay again.” The tears began to fall rapidly and your hands covered your face, hoping to shield the boy from a guilt he had no reason to harbor.

With a delicate touch, he reached up and pulled your hands away with his, shushing you gently and pulling you into his body. His arms wrapped around you tightly. The embrace felt like all of his embraces before every reaping since you first began dating at fourteen: finite. Except this time, it was.

“Listen, I need you to stay strong for me, okay? You’re going to be on my mind the entire time I’m in that arena…and you’ll be the last thing I think of before the cannon sounds. I love you. It was never supposed to end this way.”

This time, he looked like he was going to dissolve into his own tears that he was quite obviously fighting back. You reached up and wiped at your eyes.

“N-No…there’s not going to be any cannons…you have to win.” You tried to force a smile to impact his overall mentality, but his facial expression remained unchanged.

Peeta chuckled, “I can’t make any promises…”

“I love you…” the statement came out weakly, tears falling slowly down your cheeks, “I love you and I need you to come home.”

“Time’s up.”

You both shared one, rushed, final kiss before you felt a strong hand on your back all but jerking you towards the exit, tears streaming down your face.

Little did you know, he would come home, but the version of you who he came home to was vastly different from the one he left behind those big wooden doors on reaping day. You both had been so changed by the games. He’d faced horrors unlike any other and you’d faced a betrayal that hurt worse than any death you could’ve faced fighting alongside him in the arena.

From the stares you got at school and around town to your mother’s now disapproving tone towards the blonde, wishing his demise at every new turn in the games, Peeta’s infamous interview turned your world upside down. You wanted to believe it was all some big scheme for the games, hoping that if they played as lovers, they’d win the favor of the Capitol…but Katniss was also a known loner. He never would truly have a chance to interact with her or engage with her in a way that would not result in him being coldly pushed away if he’d not been forced to compete with and against her.

Who’s to say he hadn’t harbored feelings for her all along knowing that they’d never be requited? Then again, who’s also to say that him mentioning you, his partner of two years, would be enough to bring sympathy and sponsors from the Capitol? You watched the games every single year. There was always at least one sob story about someone who had to get back to a significant other and that never changed their fate in the games.

You looked at yourself in the small mirror on the wall of your home, letting two French braids out of your hair so that they cascaded down in waves. Your head was beginning to hurt right at your left temple, a feeling you’d grown too accustomed to over the time frame of the games. Between the headaches, sleepless nights, and tears, the mental gymnastics every move Peeta made in the game had taken its toll on you.

“I cannot believe you’re still going to see him. He embarrassed you. He made a fool out of you in front of the entire country, but especially in our District and you’re still going to see him.” your mother looked up from some sewing she was doing right as soon as you dropped to your knees beside your bed and pulled out a box. On top of some pictures of you and Peeta, drawings he’d given you, dried flowers, and a variety of other things you’d collected throughout your relationship was a letter simply addressed with his name. You picked it up and tucked it away in your bag, shaking your head at your mother’s comments.

“I…have to. I have to just…get closure. I can’t move on if I don’t just…figure this all out in my head.” Your hand played with the strap of your bag as your mother shrugged in your direction, still mumbling under her breath as you exited your home and started towards Victor’s Village.

Part of you wanted to see him just to make it concrete in your head that he was alive because part of you doubted the allowance of two victors in the games. The other part of you wanted to avoid him at all costs so you never had to face the conversation to come, which could lead to you losing the love of your young life.

You made your way up the cobblestone road, your eyes fixed down strictly out of nerves. You admired the different stones under your feet as you headed on, only glancing up when you realized you needed to identify which house belonged to Peeta. You knew which home belonged to Haymitch, but there were lights on in two other houses. You surveyed their appearances until you observed a barely noticeable billow of smoke coming out of the chimney, perhaps from an oven.

You walked up to the front porch of this home and knocked gently, your hands quickly flying back to the strap of your bag, twisting it back and forth as you waited.

A brunette answered the door, looking perplexed as to why you were standing there. You took in her harsh stare, her side braid, and the wound on her forehead and took a hard swallow.

“Oh…” Your eyes fell to the ground again.

“Can I help you?” Katniss asked. Her tone wasn’t as harsh as the way she’d been eyeing you. She sounded confused and you didn’t blame her.

A laugh sounded from behind her, causing you to look back up and over her shoulder. Haymitch Abernathy stood off in the distance, taking a swig from a longneck bottle, shaking his head.

“H/C hair, E/C eyes…this is the real game right here.” He took another sip, “I’ve been interested in this since the train home.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Haymitch?” Katniss asked, looking from you to Haymitch and then back to you.

“That’s Lover Boy’s real lady.”

“Oh my god…”

“Is…”

“Wrong house…” Katniss took a hard swallow herself, looking rather uncomfortable. She opened her mouth to speak a few times, but then ultimately decided not to. “Can you just…give him this…please?” You reached into your bag and withdrew the piece of paper that you’d spent many long nights pouring into since the night of the interview.

“Uh, sure, but he lives…” she began to gesture with the piece of paper, but you turned and walked away, arms wrapped around your midsection as you felt your chest begin to tighten and a lump began to form in your throat.

You heard Haymitch call something out from behind you as you picked up your pace and exited Victor’s Village. You felt stupid. You should’ve just gone next door and either given Peeta a piece of your mind, tried to talk this whole situation out, or just slid the letter in the mail slot on the door and continued on home.

Who knows if Katniss will ever actually give him that letter, especially if she’s harboring some kind of feelings towards him that she wants to make sure stays locked down. You let out a long sigh and then quickly changed your direction. You weren’t ready to go home and face the cruel commentary your mother would spew the second you stepped onto the threshold of the house.

Instead, you went to your backyard, staying out of the way of the windows so that you couldn’t be seen. You sat your bag on the ground and stared up at the sky. The sun was just starting to set and it was turning the beautiful shade of orange that Peeta loved and would try to capture with his paints. The lone thought caused your chest to ache and tears to well up in your eyes again. Except this time, you allowed them to fall.

As you looked up into that orange sky, you began to recite the letter to yourself internally despite the thoughts being placed out in the open the second you turned the piece of paper over into Katniss’ hand.

Peeta,

I don’t know what to say. I needed you to come home, but not like this. I’m glad you’re alive. I will always be glad that you’re alive, but why her? You looked at Flickerman and thought before you spoke. You could’ve talked about me and you didn’t. Maybe it was a strategy. Maybe you took this as your chance to finally address feelings you’d harbored for Katniss. I don’t know, and I guess I’ll never know. Regardless of what the reason is, I want you to be as happy as you can be as a victor coming out of the games and if that’s with Katniss, then it’s with Katniss. I’ve never been one to care about the opinions of others, but when you have grown adults making fun of the fact that your boyfriend left you the second he could and commenting in passing about how you left and then used the games as a matchmaking service…I’d look like a fool to ever be seen holding your hand in public again, even if I want nothing more than to do just that.

I will forever be proud of you for what you accomplished. You fought so well and demonstrated your abilities physically, artistically, and mentally in the arena, but what you said in your interview was so shortsighted and rash that I don’t feel it’s something you and I can come back from. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to lay next to you again without wondering what was truly going on in your head in those few seconds of hesitation before you began to profess your love to Katniss.

I love you, Peeta and I will always love you…and I thought you loved me. I just hope that you don’t harbor any negative feelings towards me when you read this. Know that this was not a sudden decision and that it took the entirety of the games to finish because it was something I never thought I’d write. I hope that when you think of the time we spent together, it’s a positive memory and that you can hold them near and dear to you even though Katniss is now in your life. I know that happiness, for me, will at least for now be laying under the stars with you and dreaming of a day that we don’t have to worry about our names being pulled out of those bowls. You’d tell me how beautiful my eyes were and how you never wanted the sun to come up so you could stay in that particular moment forever. You will always be my first love and there will always be a place for you in my heart. I hope your future is as safe and as happy as you dreamed it would be.

Yours,

Y/N

You didn’t even know at what point that you’d began to cry even harder. All you knew was that you could feel a draft on your face and the moisture had dripped onto the top of your shirt. You’d started grieving him the night of the reaping, fearing he would not return. However, the actual grieving process began the night of the interview, knowing that even if he returned, he may never actually return to you. Everything had only begun to come to a head in the grass that night as the sun went down behind Sherbert skies and the void of the night sky took over your vision.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear footsteps coming up from your left side. It was only when you heard a familiar voice say your name that you sat up and turned around, a delayed gasp escaping your lips.

“Peeta?!” You looked at him and took him in in the virtually non-existent light. You couldn’t make out much about his appearance aside from his white shirt and the familiar piece of white paper in his hand.

“I…I…” he looked unsettled, scared even, “I can explain everything, but not here.”

“What?”

“Meet me back in Victor’s Village in an hour. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Something in his tone made your anxiety spike. Your heart was pounding and your stomach was turning. Whatever was happening was not good.

You hesitated before agreeing to meet him, watching as he turned and headed back in the opposite direction. You walked back around the front and entered your house.

“So, what pathetic excuse did he give you?” your mother asked.

You shrugged, “He wasn’t home. Haymitch said he’d be back in a little while, so I’m going to go back…”

“This is entirely too much effort for the boy that just decided to throw away two years with you on television.”

“He…”

You fell quiet. You couldn’t even think of any explanation for Peeta’s behavior, but you hoped to have one soon. You walked back to Victor’s Village around forty-five minutes later, your heart pounding in your chest. What had him acting so timid and scared? This wasn’t like him at all.

You stepped up on his front porch and knocked on the door only for him to answer it almost immediately and let you inside.

“Peeta, what the hell is going on?” You couldn’t stop the thought from coming out. You were truly at wit's end and you just wanted answers. Your eyes fell on the boy. His face crumbled slightly.

“I…We…” he looked away, staring at the floor and then back up at you, “We can’t be together anymore. I’m so sorry.”

You sighed, your throat feeling tight again, “I…I figured, but…like…were you always interested in Katniss or?”

He shook his head, “I was never interested in Katniss. I’m not interested in her now. Y/N, I’m in love with you. I want you so fucking bad, but, I can’t…they’ll…they’ll hurt you. If they found out it’s all a lie, we’d all die.”

You stepped closer to the blonde as his face flushed and tears began to spill from the corners of his eyes, “Peeta, baby, what are you talking about?”

You reached up to wipe his tears and he leaned into your touch ever-so-slightly, “I lied about Katniss because I wanted to gain us sponsors and I just… wanted to try and get out of there…and we did, but Katniss told me that the Capitol is suspicious of us and that if we’re not selling this…we’re going to die and if I stay with you and get caught…they’ll just kill you to get you out of the way. It’s not safe for you to be around me anymore. I love you and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You took a hard swallow as you tried to process what he was saying. He was now trapped in a fake relationship with Katniss or else the Capitol is going to kill the both of them and possibly anyone they love. You tried to find words, but there were none. What is there to say to that?

“I’m so sorry. I fucked up and I’m so fucking sorry.” He reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes.

“You…didn’t. You did what you had to to survive. You kept your promise to me…” You said softly, your voice still shaking through each word, “It was just..never supposed to end like this.”

“I know.” He said solemnly, “I wanted to come home, move into this house, and let you come over whenever you wanted until you eventually moved in. I wanted to protect you for the next two years…giving your family bread and money and whatever to keep you from having to put your name in that bowl any more than it has to be. I wanted to marry you…and maybe one day, when it’s safer, we can…but…until then, I can’t risk it. If we keep this up and the Capitol catches wind of it, you’ll be reaped next year, no questions about it.”

“It’s a quarter quell…”

“It doesn’t matter! In my eyes, that makes it even more dangerous because, for all we know, they could eliminate the one male, one female rule and put you and Prim, Katniss’ sister in there.” He was momentarily silent, “I cannot mentor you and then watch you die.”

“We could run…”

“We won’t make it but a little bit past the gate. There’s Peacekeepers everywhere.”

“Then we die together.”

His face grew stern, “I am not watching you die.”

Your bottom lip quivered, “If it’s ever safe again, will you come back to me?”

“There’s no coming back. I will always be yours.” He reached down and took your hands in his, placing a kiss on your knuckles, “But if that time ever comes…then, yeah…I promise…and that’s one I know I can keep.”

“I’m going to miss you forever.” she said, “I never thought that this was how the games would take you from me.”

“I know…but…just don’t forget about me, okay? Even if you move on..”

“I could never forget about you…even if I wanted to…I’d always think about you.”

With that, he leaned in and pressed one last kiss to your lips, pouring the feelings he’d expressed to you countless times over the last two years into it, his hands cupping your face gently as your hands went to his waist. It was the kiss that you should’ve shared after the reaping and the first kiss you’d shared since he’d been home…except this time, the kiss was your last.

It's hard not to find it all a little bittersweet

And lookin' back on all of that, it's nice to believe…

#the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games x reader #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x yn #catching fire #mockingjay #josh hutcherson #fanfiction #fanfic

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xxblairexxss · 9 months

Text

Supersede p.3

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Word count : 4k

I went through this a couple of times, even deleted half of the paragraph and rewrite it back but I still feel like something’s missing. Probably because I kept on jumping from one timeline to the other one because I have to finish this one in one part. 😔

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flash

The roaring cheer from the crowd filled up the pit lane soon as Charles hopped off his car that was parked in front of the board, which had number 1 on it. It was his 10th podium in his career in Formula 1. The adrenaline was over the head. Charles had the brightest smile glued to his face as he waved to the crowd.

"My bracelet?" Charles waited for another piece of his bracelet while he slipped on the last piece of ring that Joris handed. "Joris, where’s the other one?"

"I think Leona took it?" He claimed, checking on his pockets. "Which one was it?"

"The one with black and white. Please ask Leona to give it back. I need it." He mentioned that before getting into the centre, he was once again greeted with a cheer from the crowd.

"Charles! Congratulations on your 10th pole position in your career."

"Thank you, thank you so much. It was a very tough qualifying, and everyone did so well."

Charles came to find Joris, who seemed to be engaging in a conversation with his girlfriend back in the garage after he was done with the photo session.

"Give me back my bracelet."

"Let me wear it for a while." She hid her arms at the back of her waist and giggled when Charles looked defeated. She always found it adorable how he always gave in and let her win in anything.

"Just please give it back when you are done with it."

"It’s just a bracelet? I can even make a new one for you." She rolled her eyes.

"I don’t want you to make a new one; just give it back. It’s a gift from someone."

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"Oh my! Are you okay?" You shrieked.

The idea of taking a picture on the bridge where you could capture the bits of the water ride in your background turned out to be a bad idea when you were drenched head to toe the moment you clicked on the selfie button on your phone.

The picture still made you giggle every time you looked at it. Instead of smiling, Jake and you had your eyes closed, and you could see the big splash of water that was about a drop away from hitting both of you. It was a picture that you could send to be included in those "pictures that were taken a minute before a disaster’ Tiktok videos.

"Having fun?" Dean asked.

"Yeah! Look at this!" You exclaimed. Dean gazed at the picture on your phone and burst out laughing.

"What happened?"

"We didn’t know the water could reach us, and we ended up drenched." You cackled and were about to head upstairs when Dean called you out.

"Charles left you your favourite ice cream. He was waiting for you to come back, but something came up literally 15 minutes ago, I think. So he had to leave." The screen showed a goal celebration from the opponent, making Dean grumble in frustration. "What even was my goalkeeper doing, bro?"

"It must be his girlfriend." You mumbled.

"Yeah, I think so too." You weren’t expecting him to hear you. "He has been a little distant now, hasn’t he?"

"What was his girlfriend like?"

He frowned and paused the match. "Can you come here and talk? I can barely hear you, silly. I’m losing this match because I can’t focus."

Rolling your eyes, you threw yourself on the couch as he went back to the game. "His girlfriend was a little; I don’t know how to say this in the nicest way possible. She seemed to have the upper hand in the relationship."

"Is she nice?" You muttered and flinched when he shouted.

"Why didn’t you pass? This is bullshit. Sorry, what were you saying? Oh, I don’t know." He jumped in his seat when the ball nearly went into the net.

"What do you mean you don’t know?"

"She was ignoring me the whole dinner. I was invisible, I think. Pass the ball!" Dean called out.

"You are ridiculous, Dean!" Rolling your eyes, you head back to your room, leaving your half-anxious brother in the living room, shouting all alone.

"Oh, the dinner ended early, so I only spent, like, not even an hour with her? Charles said he wanted to check on someone." Dean yelled out before going back to his game.

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"I’ll be right back!" You called out and took off your apron before dashing your way to the bathroom. You had started working on your part-time job again now that you were on a summer break.

Every time you started working, you would always set a goal. Last time, it was for Charles’s birthday gift. Well, not for the bracelet alone. You had saved up some money to buy him a watch that reminded you of him. Your budget wasn’t met on time, so you could only give him the bracelet as a temporary replacement until you could buy the main gift. The watch was still in your possession, and you didn’t think it would ever reach Charles. This time, you were saving up for the necklace that you had been eyeing for months. You lost the game with Dean the other night, so now you have to actually work for it.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"Oh– I’m.." The sandwich wrapper in your hand was stuffed into your pocket. You were on a lunch break, and like usual, you would always have your lunch near the fountains where you could see your city from a higher view. This time, your lunch was interrupted by your brother’s best friends. "I’m having my lunch."

"I didn’t know you worked. Café de Paris?" His eyes trailed on the words written on your cap.

"Yeah, just for a short time, though, because I don’t really have anything to do during my break." You gave a soft smile. It’s been a week since the last time you saw him. Since the first argument

"Y/N, I really didn’t mean what I said that day. I just missed

"I’m all set! Oh, hello! Baby, who’s this?" There was a girl in a short dress. She was stunning. Her makeup looked amazing yet very natural, enhancing her facial features. Her hair looked beautiful with the soft curls that bounced every time she tilted her head.

And she was wearing the bracelet. The same one you had around your wrist.

"She’s my friend. My best friend Y/N, this is, um, my girlfriend, Leona. Leona, Y/N."

You saw the way she looked at you; the slight smirk on her face when she saw your uniform made you feel self-conscious and smaller. Looking down, you tried to straighten your shirt and kept your hands on your laps, your eyes looking away as you tried to think of a way to excuse yourself.

"Did you give her the same bracelet I got from you?" She scowled. The change in her tone made you dumbstruck.

"No, it was my gift for him." You gritted your teeth in silent fury. She had been looking at you up and down, disgusted, as if you had done something wrong.

"Chill. I am not asking you." She rolled her eyes. Charles was silent the whole time, but he kept on looking at you.

Charles wanted to hold you. He wanted to put you in his embrace. He wanted to talk to you about everything—every single thing. He wanted to apologise, but whenever he saw you, he would always mess things up.

"You don’t have to glare at me like that as if I were that desperate to wear this. Take it then." She pulled the bracelet off and threw it on the ground as she pulled Charles away.

"Just go first." He retracted his hand away, making the girl glunt at you even more before she walked away. "Y/N, what time will you finish your shift? I can wait for you and send you home?"

"Just go, Charles. Just leave me alone."

"Y/N, please,"

"Just go." You snapped. To that end, he walked away, and you looked at him briefly as he looked back every so often while you stood there with the bracelet in your hand.

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flash

The door to your room was barged open, causing you to jump and roll your eyes when your brother walked in.

"What do you want?"

"Well, I just wanted to check on my sister because why the heck did you keep on shouting?" You cursed under your breath when he laid down on your bed with his outside clothes.

"I just wanted to do this, but it’s not working!" The video on your phone was paused ten times as you dipped your head on the table.

"A bracelet? For who?" He took the Koala soft toy and hugged it, his eyes still locked on you at the dressing table.

"Secret!"

He cackled and turned his body to the side, arm angled upwards, head on hand. "I’m not a fool, silly. Charles?"

"How do you know?" He shouldn’t know. You had been so discreet with your feelings that there was no way he would have known, but Dean was also the one who knew everything about you.

"I’m your brother. I know everything. Need my help?"

"No, it’s okay. I got this." You actually wanted to go with a heart bracelet, but this had been your third attempt, and none of the results were up to your liking, so you went with a normal design, which is easier for someone new like you.

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"Charles! Come in!"

You were heading to the kitchen when you heard his voice, which made you trace your steps back and tiptoe your way back to the room.

"I’m sure Dean is sleeping. Wait, I’ll wake him up." Your mom stopped in her tracks when Charles called out.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m actually here for Y/N. Can I see her?" Charles asked as he took a seat on the couch.

"Oh, she went out on a date. She did mention his name, but I couldn’t recall."

"Oh, it’s okay! I’ll just wait for Dean." Charles gave a soft smile as Y/M/N went upstairs, and he heard her shouting Dean’s name.

"Wake up! Your friend’s downstairs. You need to stop sleeping all day long!"

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"Y/N, I actually have something to tell you."

Jake has been acting different from the moment he picked you up. He had been the most outgoing and cheerful person on your first date, but he seemed to be anxious tonight. You could barely carry a conversation along the ride because he would always reply with one or two words.

"Is there anything wrong?" Something in your gut told you that it might not be something good, but there was a little bit of hope that maybe he was nervous because he wanted to talk about your "relationship". After all, this had been your fifth date with him.

"Do you want to order something first?"

"No, it’s okay. What is it?" Tucking the loose strand of hair behind the ear, you gave him a soft, reassuring smile.

"What? How do you know I have something to say?" Jake stuttered.

"Everyone can tell you have something to say to me!" Laughing, you placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on it. "What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you that." He titled his head back and groaned in frustration. "I just don’t know how to tell you this, but,

I’m back with my ex-girlfriend."

The smile on your face dropped almost instantly. It felt like someone kicked you on the head and knocked your breath out. "Wh–what? But I thought we had something. "

"You were amazing. I really had an enjoyable time with you, but I just wasn’t expecting her to come back." He tried to place his hand on yours, but you pulled it away and straightened your back. "And I will always choose her over anyone." He muttered.

That’s when it clicked on you. You would never be anyone’s choice. No matter how hard you try to please anyone, they will always choose someone else.

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"Mind if I continue my sleep here? Thank you. Make yourself at home." Dean gave a thumbs up sarcastically and threw his head back on the throw pillows as he drifted back to sleep. He was at his girlfriend’s house last night doing god-knows-whatever it was, and he came back all worn out, saying that 12 hours of sleep wasn’t enough.

Charles was sitting on the couch across, eyes on the door every once in a while. It has been more than 2 hours, and you should be coming home any minute now.

"What the f-" The phone blasted out The Weeknd’s song so loudly that it made both men in the living room jump in their seats.

"Turn it off, can you?" Dean groaned and covered his face with the throw pillow, making Charles click on his tongue.

"Dude, it’s your phone." He murmured while taking the phone off the coffee table. He was going to put it on hold when the familiar name on the screen caught his attention.

"Little Y/N."

"Hel–"

"Dean," Charles heard you sob. "Can you—" another sob. "Can you pick me up?"

"Y/N, it’s me. Dean is sleeping." He replied.

"Oh, oh, it’s okay. I’ll just take a bus home."

Charles butted in before you pressed the end button. "Where are you?"

"I’m waiting for a bus."

"Where?"

"It’s okay, Charles."

He heaved a sigh of defeat. "Y/N, don’t do this. Text me your location. I’ll pick you up."

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You trailed the toe cap of your sneaker along the curve on the ground while the sound of a horn and faint music filled the air.

"I’ll always choose her over anyone."

"But I still like you."

"I need you to wait for me; can you do that?"

A chuckle escaped from your lips. Funny how, for a second, you thought your life was getting better, but it felt like you were hit by another rolling stone on your way up your dream hill.

"Pathetic." You muttered, your hand wiping your cheek as another tear escaped from your eyes.

"Y/N, let me take you home. I don’t think your brother is going to let me live if he finds out I let you take the bus this late." Jake pleaded for it ten times. It was getting more annoying now that he kept asking the same thing over and over. You tried to ignore him, but he ended up following you all the way to the bus station. "Give me that." He snatched on your bag, and you held on to the strap, glaring at him.

"Let go! I am not coming with you."

"What’s wrong with it?"

"Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to see you again. Can you just let go of my bag, dumbass?" You yelled when the strap slipped off your hand.

"Is this how you treat a woman when you take her out on a date?" Charles seized the bag and glowered at the other guy suspiciously.

"This is between me and her, dude. Y/N–"

Anything that involves her involves me too. Say whatever you want to say to her, but I’m not going anywhere." Charles got in between, and your sight of Jake was covered by his broad back.

"I just want to send her home." Jake chirped in.

"I’ll be taking her home. You don’t have to worry about that." Charles gave a nod and grabbed your wrist, walking back to his car.

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Your eyes were on your lap, and the words Jake said kept replaying in your head over and over.

"Am I.."

Charles’s focus went on you when he heard your voice.

"Am I not worthy of love?"

Charles blinked, his brows furrowed, wondering where the question came from. "What makes you say that?"

"I feel like I’ve never had any luck when it comes to love. I never got to confess to you, and all of a sudden I found out you have a girlfriend. I thought Jake was going to confess to me, but it turned out he wanted me to be his backup plan. It was so silly of me to think that for a second, someone could like me back." You wept out of frustration, feeling like you just kept humiliating yourself over and over. "I’m sorry, I don’t know why you have to listen to that."

“I have always chose you.” He whispered.

But you didn’t hear. So, he continued.

"We broke up."

"Hm?" This was the first time you looked at him since you got in the car. He was so beautiful, even in the dark.

"Leona and I broke up." He blurted.

"Do you want me to ask why, or is that an invasion of privacy?" You glanced. He was still keeping an eye on the road; the street lights illuminated his face.

"No," he chuckled. "I know you always want the details on everything, so go ahead and ask."

"Okay, why? When?" You were now completely turned to face him, just as far as the seatbelt allowed.

"A week ago? I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. Everything was perfect at the beginning, but lately there hasn’t been a day where we won’t fight. It was draining. I don’t know what went wrong. And the–" He inhaled. "She got really angry when she found out about the bracelet, so yeah, we broke up."

"I’m sorry.." You breathed out.

"Sorry for?"

"For the bracelet, It was the reason she broke up with you." You straighten your back, leaning against the car set.

"Your bracelet was my lucky charm, Y/N. It was the reason I managed to get the pole and podium. I always felt the need to do my best because I wanted to make you proud. I wouldn’t have taken it off if it wasn’t for race week."

You wanted to hold his hand on the gear shift, but you were too scared, so you held yourself. "You always make me proud. Podium or not? Pole position or the last one in the starting grid, I’m always proud of you."

"Wanna go and get ice cream?"

"Yeah!" You exclaimed. "My favourite one?"

"Your favourite one. Are you up for a card game?"

"I never say no to a stupid card game." You replied.

Whatever happened that night was a little secret between Charles and you. You had told him to never tell your brother about what happened.

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"Y/N! You are cheating, aren’t you? That’s impossible! Give me your cards. Why can’t you just play clean?" You leaned away and brought the cards closer to your chest.

"The game hasn’t finished yet!" You put down another piece of card, giggling when he dumped his whole card right away and laid down.

"I don’t want to play anymore."

"You are so silly!" You gathered all the cards back into one bundle and put them back in a box. This was his third time losing, and while you were having a lot of fun, he was in misery.

It had been a few weeks since the last time you saw Jake. He did try to reach out, but you felt like there was no need for any other explanation from him. Charles came by every so often during his break, more often now that he has no one blowing up his phone.

He found out Leona was hanging out with someone else through Dean because, just like you, he was a really big fan of tea, but there weren’t as many hard feelings involved. She did deserve to be happy.

He came by again, though you told him Dean wasn’t home this weekend. Here he was, in your room, playing cards or listening to you rant about your customers.

"And then he was like, "Excuse me, where’s the whipped cream?" and my co-worker looked at me and was like, "Are you hearing this?""

He was lying on his side, head on his hand, while smiling and frowning, mimicking your expression as he rode the emotional rollercoaster ride where one second you were mad and the next second you were laughing. "Wait, I thought he said no whipped cream?" He recalled it.

"Yeah! And he was also the one who got mad because there was no whipped cream in his drink!"

"So what happened? Did he get the whipped cream in the end?" Charles sat up and bent down to get his paper bag that he had placed at the foot of your bed.

"Oh, I don’t know." You shrugged. My co-worker was the one who handled it."

"What the heck? You can’t just tell a story without an ending. That was anticlimatic, Y/N. Oh–" He took out a velvet box from the paper bag and handed it to you. "I wanted to give you this."

Your eyes went from him to the box in his hand. "It’s not my birthday yet."

"I know, but I won’t be here next week. I need to fly back to Maranello. Open it. I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but yeah, I hope you do."

The velvet box contained a Van Cleef & Arpels 18k rose gold necklace with a vintage Alhambra pendant. The one you had been eyeing since forever. "Are you crazy? I can’t take this." Your eyes widened in surprise as you closed the box.

"No, take it. It’s your birthday gift! I can’t return it, silly. I threw away the sales slip." He crossed his arms so you wouldn't be able to shove the box back into his hands.

"It’s expensive! How do you know this was the necklace I wanted?" You gently took it out of the box and admired the way it was dazzling and dangling from your hand.

"I asked Dean. And I saw you were looking at it when I bumped into you during your lunch break the other day. Here, let me help you." He took the necklace from your hand and draped it around your neck. He found himself smiling fondly when you let go of your hair, the way the hair fell perfectly to frame your face as you gave off the brightest, radiant smile that always struck on him.

"I really don’t deserve this, Charles. My birthday gift to you was just that."

"Speaking about that, can you give me back the bracelet? Technically, it’s still mine." He scratches the back of his hair. "And I kinda need it for my next race."

"It’s all dirty now. But I can make you a new one."

"Just give it back, Y/N. And then you teach me how to make another one. Also, I was thinking if." He pursed his lips. "If I can take you out on a date after my upcoming race,"

The question had knocked you for six. You wanted to scream, but instead, you tilted your head away just so you could gather up all your emotions before you could look at him in the eyes. "I don’t know. Let me think about it first."

"I thought you liked me?"

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him head-to-toe. "Excuse me?! That was very cocky of you to assume."

"You literally confessed to me in my car weeks ago when I picked you up from the horrible date." He shrugged and cocked a brow.

"I didn’t."

"You did! Are you going to say yes, or am I getting rejected?" He tilted his head with a grin to catch your eyes as you kept on looking away.

"I’ll think about it. Oh! I actually have a belated birthday gift for you.” Standing up, you went to your drawer and pulled it open to get another small box.

“I thought the bracelet was my gift?” Charles took the box and tried to shake on it.”

“It was supposed to be a temporary one.” You looked at the box and back to him back and forth, trying so hard not to squeal. You had been waiting to give it to him as it had been in your drawer collecting dust.

“You got me another bracelet? Oh, I like it. It matched the rest of mine.” He put it on immediately and extended his arm to check on his bracelet collections from afar. “I am not gonna take this one off too. Thank you, Y/N. But I still need the old one though.”

“Oh, should we make a new one together?”

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Let me know if you could pick out few of the events where Charles picked reader first over anyone else!

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl

✧.* tag list for p.3! @sabrinaselina55 @honey6578 @julesandro @boherahpsody @gulphulp @bansheelydiia

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

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imarealnugget · 3 months

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Gojo Satoru comforting you

Feat. Gojo Satoru

TW. fluff, crying, panic attack (some negative emotions).

Words Count: 1k+

It was a normal winter day, even though it was sunny, the air was frozen, and at your and Gojo's house it was the same. The radiators didn't work and you were used to spending your days under the covers or wearing heavy pajamas, at least until this problem was finally solved.

Lately you had had a fight with a dear friend of yours, you have known each other since the first grade, and that day you were permanently interrupting your relationship. Gojo was at work, while you were at home with your ex-friend, arguing about your fight, when you decided to end your friendship. The moment the girl passed the screen of your front door, you burst into a liberating cry, which, however, did not help you at all. Actually it made you feel worse, remembering all the good moments spent with her, all the laughter, the outings, the serious moments, when one was there for the other, but it was all over.

You didn't want to call your boyfriend, you would have made him worry, but it's been two hours that you cried without stopping, the mascara running from your eyes, your nose cold, your lips shaking, your arms hugging your legs, while you were sitting on the ground, near your closet. You didn't even have a blanket that would at least keep you warm during that mental breakdown, you didn't have anyone. But then, when you reopened your eyes and turned your head in the direction of the bedside table, you saw the phone. At that moment you started fighting against the fixed thought in your head that told you “Call Satoru, you would do the right thing.” You didn't want to disturb him, let alone make him worry, you could have calmed down on your own, without anyone's help. Then though, you remembered those words “Whatever happens, call me without a second thought.” The words your boyfriend uttered during a panic attack you had a few weeks earlier. You promised him you would call him without a second thought, but at that moment you weren't doing it, you hadn't done it for the last two hours, and here's how a very big sense of guilt pervaded your body in an instant, but before you could fully reason, your brain had already ordered your arm to stretch towards the phone, giving the order to your hand to grab it, screaming at your fingers to unlock it, go into the application “Phone” and look for his number. Fortunately, it was the first contact you found. You took a deep breath before pressing his number.

One ring… two rings… three rings… four, five, six…

“He doesn't answer, am I bothering him?”, “He doesn't t want to answer me, he is definitely doing something more important,” “He doesn't want to hear me.” You closed the call, sinking into yourself once again. You needed someone, or rather… you needed Gojo. Your head was filled with paranoia, worries, past memories. Your body was shaking, both from the cold and from crying so much, and not being done yet.

It seemed to have passed two- no, maybe.. five minutes? No, you didn't know, it seemed to have passed so little (and actually it was), but at the same time it seemed to have passed so much. You didn't feel anything left, other than your tears running down your face, the sound of your screams suffocated by the pain and fear you were feeling at the time. But all of a sudden you heard a familiar voice, a strange warmth that you would always recognize, it was Gojo, who held you to himself, caressing your back gently, but at the same time frantically: he didn't know what happened. “Y/n, what's up? Hey hey.. talk to me. I didn't answer you because I was on my way home, I'm sorry.." Right, you had completely lost track of time while crying, you didn't realize what time was, when you tried to call Gojo. “S–satoru.. I lost another a-friend..” You whispered by sobbing. “The girl you argued with a few days ago?” “Y-yes..”. He sighed deeply, then took you in his arms, making you sit on his legs, caressing your face gently, as if you were the most precious thing in the entire universe. "Listen, I know it's difficult, it's right to be sick, I know she was a very important friend who was part not only of your childhood, but also of your teen age. But think about it.. this is probably just a pause that you have defined "the closing of a chapter", which may not end here. Maybe you will meet again and be able to solve, or this was really the conclusion of this chapter, but life goes like this, doesn't it? The important thing is that you have not ended this friendship in a bad way. It's normal for you to cry, after so many years of friendship, but you're not alone, you have me, Utahime, Shoko.. your closest female and male friends! If you want help, we, but especially me .. are here to support you. Do you understand what I mean, baby?” He reassured you as he held you close to himself, warming your body with his and wiping the tears from your face, and finally giving you a kiss full of love on your lips, making a small, but beautiful smile appear on your sight. “How about going to eat at a sushi restaurant tonight? It's your favorite food and my princess deserves to have everything that makes her feel good, starting with me." He teased, even if he was telling the truth, making you laugh, then he kissed you again, this time in a more passionate and provocative way. “You're stupid, but you're right.. I really want to go to a sushi restaurant tonight.” You answered laughing, your voice was still a little dull and sounded slightly sad and quiet, Satoru would have done anything to make you laugh out loud, it would probably make you cry with laughter, and guess what? That's exactly how it went that night.

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bloompompom · 6 months

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Trending Now! Beloved, international pop sensation was spotted getting hot and heavy with the lead vocalist of Devil's Paradise, Eren Jaeger, at an after-party, sparking rumors of a secret fling. The unlikely couple has yet to comment publicly on the status of their relationship, but their scandal-worthy PDA alone implies they must know each other very well.

Ha! That couldn’t be any further from the truth.

♡ pairings: rockstar!eren jaeger x popstar!female reader, eren jaeger x historia reiss ♡ content: ~7.2k word count. enemies-to-lovers, jealousy, suggestive themes, lots of explicit language (they like f-bombs sorry), slut shaming, mentions of alcohol. reader discretion advised. ♡ previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

★ Chapter Four ★

One step forward, and a million steps back.

It felt like the world had started up again when the creative director clapped his hands, calling for a five-minute break. The resounding sound echoed through you as everyone began to buzz around like flies.

You blinked, hard, snapped from whatever trance you had to be in—the one that gave you that glossy, no-thoughts-behind-those-eyes look the camera loved.

You blinked again when an assistant shoved a hand in front of your face. He offered to help you to your feet, as you were still on the floor, looking more or less comparable to a prowling jungle cat. Or better yet, you felt like you had been spilled and splattered, just waiting for someone to come and clean you up.

You declined his hand, politely. He took you by the elbow anyway after one of your heels wobbled underneath you.

“I mean it: five minutes.” The director looked down at his wrist, checking a watch that wasn’t really there. “Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds now. Fifty-eight, fifty-seven—”

Cool silk hit your shoulders as another assistant draped a robe over you, pathetically thin for such a frigid studio. She even held the sleeves out for you, one at a time, ensuring you had to move as little as humanly possible, as if you were something made of glass. As if you would break.

You cinched the robe’s ties around your waist. When you finished, a water bottle landed in the palm of your right hand. The assistant that tossed it to you, the third one in the last thirty seconds, and reminded you to stay hydrated.

And yes, they were always this fussy over you. And when it came to photo shoots, they were always extra fussy. This one was for your upcoming single, so it had to be perfect.

Pieck was off by herself in the corner, her back turned to you. Curiously, you made your way over to her, cracking and twisting the bottle’s lid to take a sip as you went.

If you were to be honest, it was more than a sense of curiosity; the painfully optimistic part of you hoped she would allow you to have the rest of the day to yourself. It was your week of vocal rest, after all.

But, of course, there was never a break with Pieck. Even for those measly five minutes, you couldn’t power down your brain because you found her crouched over her iPad. Devil’s Paradise (Eren specifically) was on the screen. You could see it from feet away.

You had caught her doing this before, stalking the band like some obsessive fan girl. She called it studying, but you called it useless. ‘Eren is about as deep as a kiddie pool,’ you had told her. Shallow and superficial. Why try to keep digging when you could already see the bottom?

You let out a groan loud enough to catch her attention. “Can’t I go one day without seeing Eren’s stupid face?” Then you took another swig of water, felt it trickle its way down your throat, like it could wash the taste of his name off your tongue.

Pieck didn’t reply. She just returned to watching the live stream. You didn’t need to see her face to imagine her scowl vividly.

Devil’s Paradise, the band that came out of nowhere, the underdogs, who won their category’s Best Album Award, were now everywhere. You were sure this was the first of many, many performances they would have to do—tons of interviews, too.

Oh, the interviews. So. Many. Interviews.

Your eyes fell on Mikasa next, and your face softened. It was only slight, no greater than a flicker, because the camera soon panned to Eren beside her. She smiled brightly at him, and he returned it, looking just as sparkly. You tried to think if you’d ever seen him smile like that—that big—before. Only for the cameras, for your faux relationship, but you weren’t dumb enough to believe those flashy grins were genuine. But this smile was. It was the kind that made your eyes squint and your mouth open wide enough to let a laugh slip through your teeth; you could hear it when he sang. It bothered you.

“I don’t know how she’s friends with him,” you grunted, gesturing toward the screen. “Let alone how she puts up with him on the regular.”

Speaking of fan girls, there were more than plenty there. Cramped and piled atop one another, pushing and threatening to tip over the barrier around the stage just for the chance to touch Eren. You weren’t sure if it made you want to laugh or vomit in your mouth.

“All you do is complain about Eren.” Pieck looked at you from over her shoulder. “Eren this, Eren that. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were an old married couple.”

She knew that would get under your skin. Defensively, you sucked in a breath and complained, “Well, I don’t know why you have to watch this, and right now of all times.”

Simultaneously, you and Pieck said, “It’s literally my job.” She said the phrase all the time, and after the years spent together, she was easy enough to predict. Still, it made her huffy.

“Can’t you do it somewhere else?” You eased your voice. “Please.”

She opened her mouth to say ‘no,’ but before she could, your newest intern popped in. Pieck told you that partnering with a local college for an internship opportunity would look good for your image. Always with your image. But you could admit it was nice to have a fresh face around, even if her only job was to run and get your coffee.

“Levi Ackerman texted you,” she quietly interrupted.

You reluctantly flopped your hands in the air. “One day. Just one day. That’s all I ask.”

It was rather dramatic, and Pieck quickly consoled the frightened student. “It’s nothing you did.” She glowered at you. “She’s just in a mood. You can ignore her when she’s like this.”

Still hesitant, voice shaking—you almost felt bad about it—she briefly explained what you already knew. Eren had texted you last night requesting (demanding) the jacket you ‘stole’ because it was a rental. You were tired and brushed it off. But now, it was apparently Levi’s turn since it was his duty to return it, not Eren’s.

You waved it off with, “The jacket’s at my place, draped over the chair. You can’t miss it. It’s the only black thing there.” Otherwise, your living room was entirely white. Pristine.

“Oh, no,” Pieck interrupted, like she had another bright idea of hers locked, loaded, and ready to fire. “Don’t make the newbie do your dirty work.”

You wanted to correct her, but you couldn’t with said newbie standing right beside you.

“You should do it,” Pieck urged. “Maybe even post a photo of you two together or something. You know your name trends whenever you’re with him. It’s advertising for your new single.”

You grumbled, so low that it was practically incoherent, even to yourself. Just angry, childish noises.

“I thought you’d want to see your boyfriend.” Pieck’s urgent eyes jumped to the intern, then back to you. You were blowing your cover. The last thing you needed was for some college girl to go around spreading gossip and telling the world you were snotty to Eren. If anything, you’d prefer the opposite to leak. Maybe then you could finally dump him.

So, you smiled even though it physically hurt while you replied, “You’re right. It’s a nice excuse to spend some time with him.” You didn’t know which was worse, saying you wanted to see Eren or admitting Pieck was right. You sweetened the smile when you turned to the intern. “We’ve both just been so busy.”

She gave a wary smile of her own, but it was enough for you to believe she bought it. Pieck patted her back, then told her to run off before she could realize the truth: that you and Eren were not, in fact, dating, and it was more like you were uncordial acquaintances. At most.

In actuality—and this was something you’d never tell Pieck—the faux-lationship had been tolerable since the award show. You could at least hold a conversation, though limited to the same discussions you’d have with the stranger doing your nails. So—thoughtful pause—where did you say you were from? Oh, I have a friend from there. Like a toddler taking their first steps, it was fumbling and awkward, but you were still managing to get somewhere.

You returned home, pouted a bit because you desperately wanted to stay, then grabbed the jacket and tucked it beneath your arm. You hadn’t touched it since that night, after you slipped it from your shoulders and questioned why, in that moment, you wanted to take it with you. It was strange, like it didn’t belong, so you didn’t touch it.

You drove yourself to Eren’s place. You didn’t mind it, actually; not just the moment of solitude and silence, but the drive itself. You didn’t venture to this side of the city often. You had almost forgotten how beautiful it was. Ocean waves glimmered in streaks of sunlight. Lush greenery splattered the horizon with hues of summery pinks and yellows, every bloom fresh. And from Eren’s doorstep, there was only the wispy sound of palms tickling your ears. All of it stood in stark contrast to your life in the city.

You found his house easily enough thanks to Levi. He forwarded you the address, telling you he made sure the right people knew to expect you—at least, that was your interpretation of ‘no one should cause you any trouble.’ Which made it sound a whole lot like someone was going to cause you trouble, but you had a feeling Levi enjoyed being cryptic.

It was this loft-style home, constructed from stacked stone and clean, walnut-colored wood. When you said ‘loft-style,’ that didn’t mean it was small by any means, but it was still the right size for one. Frankly, you were shocked by it. You would have guessed he’d buy something more boastful after suddenly plunging head-first into fame.

You didn’t announce your arrival beforehand. You didn’t know you were supposed to. And as was the rightful consequence, Eren didn’t answer on your first knock. Or your second, for that matter.

“‘No one should cause you any trouble.’ Yeah, right,” you huffed.

The house had these giant windows on every wall, and still, you couldn’t peek inside because of their tint. Not that you were about to go through all that effort over a jacket.

When you knocked a third time, it was with the blunt of your fist. You waited out another impatient moment, then quickly realized that driving out here was useless. You couldn’t wait to tell Pieck that you were right.

Just before you turn away, a camera, smack in the center of the wall, caught your attention. You didn’t know how you missed it, but you debated going on as if you had, plopping the expensive jacket on the ground. After a pause, you decided to give Eren one last chance because you were a nice person. You pressed one of the buttons, then another, unsure of which would ring him.

The only thing you knew it did for certain was trigger a blinking red light, prompting you to ask, “Eren? Can you hear me?”

You announced yourself and displayed the jacket for the camera. Could he even see it? God, you felt silly. Frustrated, too. It seeped into your voice when you said, “I’m here with the jacket you needed so desperately.”

Finally, there was a sign of life.

“What?” It wasn’t accusatory, but disoriented. Eren’s voice sounded muffled through the microphone. Even so, you knew he was far too groggy for two o’clock in the afternoon. “Why are you here?”

“I said,” you stressed, “I have your jacket. The one you’ve been bothering me about. Tell me you haven’t forgotten already.”

“I didn’t mean you had to bring it, like, now.”

“Well, Levi did.” There was a long, long pause. “So, are you going to let me in?”

Eren didn’t reply. You couldn’t believe it—well, maybe you could, knowing him.

You darted a hand toward the button again. Before you could make contact, the quick swing of the door startled you. You jumped back as Eren made himself comfortable, leaning against the door with his arms folded across his chest. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. You called him out for it.

“You look like crap.”

“I feel like it,” he replied, his voice as monotone as ever.

You believed him. Greeted by the afternoon sun, his fluttering eyes could hardly stay open. The feeling was almost visceral. Just by looking at him, you could practically feel a throbbing in your temples and the ‘I’m never drinking again’ wretch of your stomach. Thinking about it now, the last time you said those very words was the morning after you met Eren.

Still, he hadn’t snatched the jacket from you or slammed the door in your face (yet), so it couldn’t have been that awful. Perhaps you were a welcomed distraction to his wicked hangover.

“So,” you drawled, forcing the jacket into his hands, finally ridding yourself of the damn thing. “Here you go.”

Eren looked from the jacket to you.

“You really came all the way here just to give this back?” His eyebrow raised as he spoke. It matched the snide curl of his lip. “Huh. You ought to be more careful. Someone might get the impression you actually wanted to see me.”

“Good one,” you said, faking a laugh. “That definitely won’t be an issue.” You took a pace back, then another. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“You’re the one who begged me to let you in.”

You didn’t beg.

He caught you mid-spin, ready to flee down the steps and back to your car, off on your merry way.

“You don’t have to act shy about it. You’re allowed to check the place out, if you want. We are dating, after all.”

Sarcasm or not, you despised the sentence, and you definitely weren’t ‘acting.’ But despite how good it would feel to ignore him and strut back to your car, a part of you—a very, very small part—wanted to see the inside of his house, to learn what Eren Jaeger was about. Though you were already sure you had a pretty good idea.

Of course, you didn’t want to admit your curiosity; you couldn’t bear to say the words, ‘Sure, I’d like to come inside,’ let him hold the door open for you and everything. So after a short pause and a flagrant eye roll, you stepped past him, tossing back, “Maybe you’re the one who should be more careful. Someone might get the impression you actually like me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” His face went dull again, so fast that you must have made up whatever brightness you thought was there. You frowned but continued inside anyway.

Eren excused himself to freshen up, and by that, you meant he said he’d be right back after you asked him if he had just woken up.

“Have you even brushed your teeth yet?” you playfully asked.

“No,” he said. Your nose wrinkled. “What? I wasn’t expecting company. I just told you: you woke me up.”

“You should really take that up with Levi then.”

Once you could no longer hear his footsteps, you used the brief interlude to poke your head around.

If you hadn’t seen the unweathered exterior, you would have thought the house was built years before it existed—walls with lots of character, black and white diner tile in the kitchen. Of course, like the outside, everything was crisp and brand new, down to every slick, black beam above your head.

It only made the punches of retro color bolder; you kept glancing over to the couch. Its pretty rust color caught your attention, the back of it neatly tufted though covered by a strewn shirt. None of the furniture appeared to be made within the last decade despite remaining in immaculate condition. Someone lacking a keen eye might glaze over it, but you recognized that none of this was easy to come by.

Both fittingly and stereotypically, Eren had some guitars displayed on the far wall. That was where he found you when he returned. You didn’t turn to look at him, only talking once you knew he was near.

“Do you actually write your own songs, or is that just another bullshit marking tactic?”

Eren chuckled. Despite the crunchy delivery, he could tell you searching for a legitimate answer. “Yes, I actually write them.”

“I wish I could do that,” you hummed. “My name’s always listed beside my co-writer, but really, I barely get any say. Maybe changing a word or two, but that’s it. That way, I can honestly say I helped, as if that even mattered.”

Was your team really that desperate to keep you in line? Eren couldn’t imagine that was something you requested—to sacrifice your income, your ownership to a co-writer… just to be called generic.

He had no idea what to say now.

Choosing to take the optimistic approach, he said, “Well, it seems to have worked out for you so far. I mean, you’ll probably perform at the Super Bowl someday, right?”

You laughed at that, no more than a huff through your nose. “Is that your measure of success?”

He shrugged innocently. “I mean…”

It was the definition a ten-year-old would give, but you supposed he had a point, even if it was rather boyish.

Whatever was happening between you right then was snuffed out. Silence ensued. You kept your eyes busying over the guitars to avoid the building tension.

Only when Eren spontaneously asked, “So, you don’t have a single song you’re passionate about? Or one that you’re proud of?” did you realize he was still stewing on your conversation.

“My dad always said passion projects were a waste of time,” you said, noting the wistfulness in your voice.

“Every one of our albums is a passion project.”

Your eyes flickered to him, thinking you had offended him and this was about to turn into another argument. He only continued.

“But I get it—the whole disappointed dad thing. My dad’s a doctor, so you can imagine how he felt when I told him I wanted to sing.” You chuckled a little at that. “But he gets it now, as much as he can. I’m not sure he would if I didn’t make something of myself. A parent’s love can be a bit conditional, can’t it?”

Eren’s words lingered in your mind. You tried to make sense of them, picking apart what he had shared with you and why. You let the sentiment hang heavy in the air. You didn’t allow it in. Your guard was as high as a watch tower, and you wouldn’t let him coax you into dropping it any time soon. You learned the hard way that he wasn’t the handle-with-care type. He liked to push his way in and mess up what wasn’t his. You bet he was also the guy who left hotel rooms in ruins, too, attributing it to his ‘rockstar lifestyle.’

You reached a hand toward one of the guitars, stopping short of touching it in case he was particular about them. When he didn’t stop you, you ran the tips of your fingers over the smooth wood.

He was still at your side when he asked, “Do you play?”

You didn’t know when he became such a conversationalist. After a longer than necessary pause, you decided to answer.

“More or less.”

Based on his pause, you realized your answer wasn’t going to cut it.

“I’ve been teaching myself. Only in my spare time, which, as you know, isn’t much.”

Before you even finished talking, Eren had started to take the guitar down from the wall.

“Show me what you can do.”

Your throat tightened. You scanned over his face. Once, then twice, and you couldn’t find any indication he was screwing with you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you even held a guitar; it had to be months ago. If Eren were to discover how rusty—no, how bad you were—he’d undoubtedly add it to his growing list of ways to embarrass you.

Your feet didn’t follow after him, but your eyes did. He made his way across the room, then expectantly turned to look at you.

“It’s fine. I couldn’t.” You were stumbling over your words, trying to think how to crawl out of this hole you had dug. “Besides, I’m not even supposed to be here. I should probably get—”

“Yeesh,” Eren remarked. “Do you always talk this much when you’re nervous?”

“I’m not nervous!” It was a half-lie. You stopped toying with your fingers and proved it to him (and yourself) by waltzing right on past him.

You sat on that pretty, vintage sofa—its fabric softer than you predicted—and waited for him to hand you the guitar. You didn’t let him lay the strap around your shoulder; you could manage that yourself.

“Good. Because it’s not like I’m gonna make fun of you.” He sounded just about as convincing as you did. A smirk dug into the corners of his cheeks. “Much.”

What did you say earlier?

Once you had adjusted the guitar comfortably in your lap, you slid your hand higher on the fretboard and felt the strings against the doughy tips of your fingers—a sensation you hadn’t experienced in a long while.

You looked up at Eren like you needed his permission. You stared at one another for a strange second, then eventually cleared your throat to ask, “What am I supposed to play?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

That’s the problem—I don’t know ‘anything,’ at least not off the top of my head.

If your memory were a vault, you would have thought it had been raided and left barren, without even a penny left. Everything you had learned, everything you had taught yourself, vanished. You clammed up, the same way you did when someone asked about your favorite song or movie, and without fail, it was as if you had never consumed a piece of media in your life. How silly of you—able to sing for thousands upon thousands of people, but you couldn’t bring yourself to play the guitar in front of a single person.

You were shrinking by the second. Eren must have sensed it, too. You expected him to ridicule you, but he only added, “Just show me what notes you know.”

That brightness was back. The very same that you swore you saw earlier on his face, you now heard in his words. His voice lifted, like he had thrown in a dash of sugar to help the bitter, ho-humness go down easier. You wouldn’t call it gentle, he wasn’t capable of that, but he did seem genuine. Truthfully, he had seemed genuine—maybe authentic was a better word—from the moment you entered his house. You didn’t know how to feel now that you recognized it for what it was.

You sucked in a deep breath and told yourself you were only humoring him when you strummed a note. Another, too, as you learned the guitar, trying to remember how it was supposed to feel in your hands. It wasn’t like riding a bicycle, though; it felt entirely foreign.

Your discomfort bled through you and onto every note like ink to paper. Everything felt wrong, down to the way you held Eren’s guitar, as if you were afraid of it. The more rigid you were, the more delicate your touch, the worse it sounded.

Eren let his head fall to one side. “Okay, I know you can do better than that.”

Perhaps it was his attempt at encouraging you, but it had the opposite effect. Your face was stricken with heat, your voice bordering into the embarrassed, whiny territory when you admitted, “I’m scared I’m going to break it.”

“Why would it break?” He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “C’mon, just play it.”

You brushed him off with a tiny ‘fine, fine’ and started to play what little you could recall. Then, surprisingly, it came back to you. Slowly, but it did—up until you tried to hit an F chord. You were actually trying this time, too, but it was less like a hit and more like a weak swing. Even when you were alone in your bedroom, you hadn’t nailed it yet, couldn’t get your fingers in the right spots, or make it sound right despite pressing down so hard it made your fingers sting. It would take time to build the finger dexterity and strength—time you didn’t have.

After another good try, Eren blurted out, “You have to do this,” like he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

He came in closer, not sitting on the couch but walking around the back of it. With eyes fixed on your hand placement, you didn’t need to look to know when he stood behind you, to feel it when he leaned in closer.

Eren touched you without an ounce of hesitation, no different than if he had done it a million times before. He took your hand into his and adjusted one of your fingers a little to the left. Then he wrapped his fingers over yours, pressing them down on the strings harder than you had. You didn’t feel it, as if your fingers were numb. In fact, it sort of felt like your entire body went numb.

“There,” Eren said. He didn’t take his hand off yours, maintaining the same amount of pressure as he instructed, “Now strum.”

It reminded you of when someone was so awful at dancing they’d have to stand on their partner’s shoes. But you did as you were told, and already it sounded cleaner than a moment ago. And the second time sounded even better. Eren’s hand was slow to leave yours, but when it did, the note still held.

Singing was second nature to you; you had done it since childhood. But learning a new skill as an adult was another beast. You couldn’t help but think how much better you’d be—how practicing would suck less—if you had someone to teach you. Just to help you jump through the beginner’s hurdles like this and get your feet off the ground.

Whatever! That didn’t matter now. You were delighted by the whole thing, so much so that you strummed and strummed, practicing your new riff as if Eren wasn’t there, not thinking anything of it when he came to sit by you. You were busy thinking about the guitar in your hands, how you wanted to spend the rest of the day with your guitar back home, if you could find it. You prayed it wasn’t Pieck texting you when you felt your phone buzz. You ignored it for now, already scheming ways you could sneak lessons into your schedule without her noticing.

You kept on playing, long after you thought you would. You went on, waiting for Eren to cut you off, but he never did. Once you realized you were still strumming away to your heart’s content, you finally stopped.

“That was better.” You heard the excitement growing in your voice. “That was totally better, right?”

Embarrassingly enough, Eren couldn’t give you an answer. And if you were to ask him what he was thinking about just then, he couldn’t tell you that either. He couldn’t remember a damn thing, not a note of it. He couldn’t even tell you if your finger placement was correct or not because your hand had already returned to your side.

A cold wave of panic rushed over him as he blanked on what to say. Whatever he told you besides ‘I don’t know’ would be a lie, so he just hoped he would say the right thing because he wasn’t sure what was going to come out, honestly.

“That was—that was good.”

His voice wavered, but you didn’t deem it worthy of another thought because you were too focused on your little win for the day. You couldn’t even suppress the grin on your face. That may have been the first compliment Eren had ever given you, if you were excluding the backhanded ones, which you were.

The thought skipped through your mind, and what followed was the same nausea you get on a rollercoaster, that whooshing feeling and all.

You couldn’t bear to look him in the face any longer, so you dropped your gaze and willed yourself calm. You tried to ignore how close the two of you were—how close you had been for some time now. You tried to look anywhere else, even tried not to be obvious about it, but you could only think of his knee against yours. You hadn’t noticed it before, and now it was the only thing you could feel.

When you met his eyes again, you found they were already staring back at you. You half expected him to pull back and crack some snide comment. You expected him to do anything besides the one thing you—way down deep inside you—really expected but couldn’t admit.

Your heart started to thump faster, louder, ringing in your ears. When your phone vibrated again, you didn’t hear it.

You couldn’t stand Eren. Everyone knew that already; you had drilled it into their heads dozens upon dozens of times. To even reiterate it now was redundant. But that didn’t cancel out your attraction to him. It didn’t work like that, unfortunately. You could deny it as much as you wanted—and you had at least three times in the last minute. Such passion-fueled emotions lived on the same spectrum. Both could exist at once, even if they were at odds with each other. Whether you liked it or not, lust wasn’t like a light switch; you couldn’t just flip it on and off whenever you wished—and yes, you were still working to accept that little, annoying fact.

Eren didn’t need to know that, though. He couldn’t because that would mean he won.

Why was it then that you couldn’t move or breathe? Why weren’t you recoiling back from him as if he were the pest you believed him to be? Your silence was deafening; you were sure it told him everything he needed to know.

Your brain was screaming at you, desperate to know what the hell you were doing, but your body—well, that was a completely different story. For once, the heat at the back of your neck was almost pleasant. It wasn’t fizzing with anger but burning a path down your spine. It kindled the crests of your cheeks with… excitement?

You gripped the neck of the guitar tighter.

Nothing about Eren had ever seemed so simple, but right then, he was. Simple and close and beautiful. No fuss, no antics, no bullshit. Just green eyes that melted from piercing to soft somewhere between when you picked up the guitar and now, you didn’t know when. Maybe that was him, beneath all his peacocking. The real Eren.

You went back to that night, when you first met. How could you not? You thought you had forgotten most of it (minus you-know-what), but you were flooded with the memory, the very same feeling eating away at you bit by bit.

It was different now; you weren’t rattling off sleazy flirts, and he wasn’t flexing, both literally and figuratively, but you could still feel the warmth of the firepit on your leg; how your suffocating dress and his hand on your thigh made your chest go tight. You could even remember how he tasted, the slurry of spirits on his breath. He’d taste different now, and you found yourself craving it without knowing it, yearning to discover what you had missed out on.

“Maybe you should get that,” Eren said, his voice all quiet now.

You blinked a few times, gathered yourself—blamed the concerning slip-up on your need for a vacation—but still had no clue as to what he was talking about. He must have read it on your face because you watched his eyes flit past you, to your buzzing phone. How long had it been doing that?

You swallowed down the thick feeling in your throat, only acknowledging Eren with a small nod before reaching for your phone behind you.

Mikasa had called; you just missed it. While you thought of a reason for her to call, you noticed she texted you a few times earlier. Big picture-wise, all of this was out of the ordinary but certainly not outlandish. But your opinion flipped, almost as quickly as your heart sank, when you saw a message from Jean—through Instagram. He wouldn’t have your phone number because, unlike Mikasa, if there was a reason for him to reach out to you, you couldn’t think of a single one.

You spent more time debating which to open first, the message from Mikasa or the one from Jean, than it would take to read them both. You went with Jean; it, understandably, piqued your interest more.

It was the wrong pick. The message only read, ‘Have you talked to Mikasa?’ Useless outside of sinking your heart even lower than before, like it had left your body entirely and splat on the floor.

Mikasa texted again. You swiped to open it.

You read her text chain backward, but out of convenience, you will recite them in chronological order:

Hey, is now a good time for me to call?

I need to tell you something important.

Insert missed call here.

Eren and Historia were out together last night. I thought you deserved to know, just in case it leaks.

Anger struck you like a shard of ice, leaving you frozen. You hadn’t flinched. You weren’t even sure if you had blinked yet. You just sat there, staring at your phone screen—Eren couldn’t see it from here. There was no need for a rash decision; you only needed a second to compose yourself before—

“What’s wrong?”

In any other circumstance, it would have been the polite question to raise. Two words, two syllables. That was all it took for you to snap.

Perhaps you should be grateful Eren was right beside you, within perfect strangling proximity. Screw your composure, it wasn’t the time for it. You might as well get the inevitable argument out of the way.

“What’s wrong?” you barked back. It teetered on a scoff or a laugh—something of the sort. “You’re seriously asking me what’s wrong like you don’t know. You were with Historia last night. People saw the two of you together.”

Eren got this brittle look on his face, his lips gone tight. Where you would expect him to lie, he only went silent. Somehow, that felt even worse. It was the coward’s way out.

You slithered out from beneath the strap and set the guitar on the cushion beside you. It didn’t need to become collateral damage. Unwilling to sit next to Eren for another second, you sprung to your feet and stood over him—looked down on him.

“One thing,” you seethed. “That was all I asked of you—”

Eren interrupted like the pedantic son of a bitch he was. “Technically, you asked two things of me.”

You continued as if it was nothing more than radio static. “You’re the reason I’m stuck in this mess, and you couldn’t be bothered to do this one tiny, little thing for me, could you?”

Then he laughed. He laughed!

“Because of me? You can’t be serious.” He sat himself a bit higher in his seat. He wouldn’t stand quite yet; he was trying to stay calmer, cooler, than you. It was another competition to him, but you could see through it. “I think we both know you were just as much a part of it as I was.”

You weren’t in the mood for splitting the blame, and you weren’t about to back down, either. He was the problem, not you. Right or not, you double-downed on your stance. You were emphatic about it, even as you paced around the room.

“If you weren’t you—if I had kissed anyone else—then it wouldn’t have mattered! I’m only here because I chose the worst possible person.”

Your logic was shaky at best, and Eren knew you knew it, too. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of something nonsensical. He took a long breath, then stood from the couch. He didn’t come any closer, and he talked to you with his hands, palms to the floor. It reminded you of a hostage negotiator.

“Look, no one important saw. It’s not like we were out at an event. It was just a party.” He spoke like a hostage negotiator, too. But as he said the words, something must have clicked in his head. His demeanor changed, his voice sharp. “You said it yourself, you know. ‘Just don’t get caught with her in public.’”

You made this sound, one you couldn’t describe, through clenched teeth. It was some combination of a groan and a shriek. An exasperated, fed-up sound, with your hands curled like you wanted to wring him out.

You both knew that wasn’t how you meant it. What you were talking about was just the two of them, in the privacy of their own homes. Anyone at that party could have snapped a photo and sold the story for who knows how much cash. It wasn’t that unbelievable, considering the obvious.

You didn’t like your words being used against you. No, not just that, but twisted and manipulated. Rules bent but not broken, all so Eren could weasel his way out of it. That wouldn’t be happening.

There was nothing left to say that would be productive, but you weren’t finished with him yet. You still had this little ball of hate in you, festering, and you wanted to spew it at him.

“Are you even listening?” Eren asked.

He was across the room from you, over by the couch. You dragged your eyes back to him. When you did, you noticed that shirt again. It meant something to you this time; no longer thrown over the couch out of laziness but evidence of last night. Had Historia torn it off him in the throes of passion as they stumbled off to his bedroom? Or did they just fuck right there, where you were sitting minutes before?

“That’s why you look like shit then—you were up fucking Historia all night.” You weren’t even there, but you were trying to piece the night together as if you were. “Is she still here?”

Eren glared at you with this dead look behind his eyes. You could practically hear him say, ‘You can’t be serious.’ He didn’t need to utter a word.

Eren dropped back to the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know why any of this matters. None of this is real.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I want to be in this situation as much as you do. Believe me.”

Your jaw dropped. His lack of an answer said enough. But you wanted to hear him say it, so you repeated, “Is she still here?”

He didn’t lift his face from his hands, but it didn’t hide the mutter he gave under his breath. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He looked up, shook his head, and snorted like your question was ridiculous. “No, she’s not still here. She left last night.”

You sneered, “Fucked her, then kicked her out like the gentleman you are. That’ll really win her back, won’t it?”

Eren opened his mouth, presumably to defend himself, but he cut himself short. Then, to your surprise, his expression let up. And was that a smile you saw?

“Wait a minute.” He leaned in knowingly. “Are you jealous?”

You weren’t even going to entertain the thought. “No, I’m not fucking jealous!”

His eyebrow furrowed in delighted curiosity. “Really? Because it sort of seems like—”

“Stop trying to make this about you! I’m not jealous. I’m pissed off because you made a promise, then went and broke it. Now you can’t even apologize.”

How he spoke about this infuriated you. It was as if this was all just a big joke to him, like it was nothing to him—like you were nothing to him.

Eren sighed and stood up again. He took a few steps toward you before saying, “I’m sorry that I didn’t think a pinky promise actually meant something.” He looked pleased with himself, even crossed his arms. “Happy now?”

You wanted to yell back. Tell him how you would never go back on your word, even for someone as scummy as him. It wasn’t the pinky promise that mattered but the underlying mutual respect. Or lack thereof, you supposed. But to explain it to him would be futile. He wouldn’t understand, anyway. He wasn’t even worth the spent oxygen.

And there you had it: the Eren you remembered. The Eren you knew he was from the start.

“Well, you have your jacket back.” You barely had the voice to say it. You weren’t hurt. No, you wouldn’t let that happen. You just didn’t know what you were feeling, that was all. “There’s no reason for me to stay any longer.”

You wanted the last word. You at least deserved that, so you scampered out the door before Eren could say anything—before any tears could break your waterline.

Once you were back in your car, you were shaking in anger. It prickled through you like hot needles and made it hard to hold your phone still.

You indulged in social media as much as the next person, but you knew your limit, and you certainly knew where and what to avoid. Above all, you never read the comments on those exploitative, tabloid-y posts.

But you chose to throw yourself into the lion’s pit today. You needed to know what people were saying about Eren, about Historia—about you. You just had to.

Regarding the happy couple, there wasn’t anything new or egregious. You could sweat that off, at least. You only wished you could say the same about yourself.

You couldn’t even process what you were seeing because it only felt like a nightmare. All of these accounts, ones dedicated to Devil’s Paradise and Eren, his dumb face in profile picture after profile picture, relentlessly bashing you. It was all recent, too, within the day.

To think, this whole thing with Eren—the fake relationship, the fighting, the hurt—was to ‘save your image.’ To stop you from becoming the slut your team made you out to be. But you’d seen that word, amongst others, used against you more in the last few minutes than in your entire life. You saw enough to realize that none of this had been worth it.

♡ taglist: @daisynik7 @bejewelledd @lifesuckssomuchtbh @vanessani @intimacywithceline @6sakusa @softjaegerhours @akvrae @sundazedm1 @rinshoe @okaystopwhore @lem-hhn @brooks-lin @writing2live @ichijager13 @littlemochi @sveetnn @elliesbabygirl @sugurunicorn @utahimeow @batafuraikisu @arendizzle @blushblossomsblog @conniesbbymama @drugzforyou @tonysttank @butterfly-skinnylegend @heartstealer-law @mima0127 @shartnart1 @iwaizumiee @violetmatcha @luna4mnoon @wonupuppy @str4wberrylover @pompompurjin @bingbongbingbongsblog @josukesss @bomjug @my-wide-open-eyes @vlsquuu @0bruise @dudaoosstuff please let me know if i missed you or you'd like to be added/removed! tags are still acting up so i apologize if you didn't get notified! thanks for your patience with me with this chapter, and as always, thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader

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jasmines-library · 4 months

Note

Can you do a Winchester sister fic where she’s overworking herself and the boys are worried and notice her deteriorating but she keeps brushing them off until eventually she passes out on a hunt and won’t wake up and the brothers are protective and very worried

Sleep Is For The Weak

warnings: overworking, exhaustion, fainting/collapse. Pls remember to get sleep and look after yourself lovely :)

Word count: 1.7K

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

“Y/N?” Sam blinked at you bleary eyed, staring at you from where he was leaning on the doorframe. You were sitting slumped over your laptop in the library, surrounded by a collection of books that you had scattered around the table and a cold cup of half drank coffee that you were using to try to force yourself awake. Your eyes were drooping closed as you squinted at the screen before you. You had spent the last two nights desperately trying to finish your college assignment that a last minute hunt meant you were behind on, only giving yourself a few hours of rest before starting up again.

Sam took a heavy step toward you rubbing his eyes. He was struggling to get to sleep and so had decided to grab himself a glass of water when he saw the light coming from the library. “Why are you still up?”

You didn’t even glance up at him as you continued to type away, pressing your fingers mindlessly onto the little black keys on your laptop. “Hi Sammy. I need to finish this assignment.”

“Kiddo-” He shook his head. It’s late and this isn’t healthy. You need to sleep.” Sam told you, gripping your shoulders.

You shrugged him off by rolling your shoulders. “Soon. I need to finish this.”

“Y/N.”

“Sam.”

Your brother sighed, rolling his eyes and raising his hands in surrender. “Fine. But don’t blame me if you’re tired tomorrow.”

He turned, leaving you alone to return to your essay. You could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen for a few minutes before his footsteps retreated back down the hallway and you were left in silence again to tap away on the keyboard.

You dragged your feet in slowly through the door to the bunker. After hanging up your jacket and your bag, you hauled yourself down the stairs and made a beeline for the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of coffee. The day had been extremely long; one of those days where everytime you look at the clock it feels like the minute hand has jumped backwards. Running on nearly no sleep hadn’t helped you much at all and you had been running completely on caffeine to keep your head from hitting the desk during class.

As you shuffled into the kitchen and began to fumble around with the coffee maker, you heard Dean gruffly announce his presence by accidentally sending a pot hurtling across the floor and cursing loudly. You winched at the nose.

“You alright there Sweetheart?” He asked, noting your slumped shoulders and droopy eyes. “How was school? Did your assignment go okay?”

You shrugged as you poured the coffee into the mug nearly missing it completely. “It was fine. Got an A on my assignment.”

“That great kiddo, I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you Dean.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Your older brother frowned at you.

“Just tired.”

“I told you.” Sam jested as he entered the kitchen.

“Whatever.”

Dean looked between his two siblings “What’s going on?”

“Y/N stayed up all night writing that essay. And the night before that.”

“Seriously?” He cocked an eyebrow and gave you that look.

“Yes. It needed to be done and I’ve been busy.” You told him. “Besides, I’ll sleep extra well tonight.”

“Make sure you do, kiddo.”

You gave him a reassuring look before leaving the kitchen with your mug gripped in your hands.

“Rest. Y/N.” Dean called after you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I will.”

It was a lie. You knew that, but your brothers didn’t. You still had too much to do in such a short time. You were behind on lore and training because you had been prepping for your assignment. Only after you had caught up would you allow yourself to rest.

You made your way into the shooting range with your pistol in hand. The room was large enough to practise basic sparring and hand to hand combat as well as gun training. Your brothers had equipped the room with sparring mats, punching bags and dummies along with some other equipment that they used for weight training, so the room was more of a gym than a shooting range if you were going to be completely honest.

After spending some time catching up on your basic training and working on some new techniques that you had discovered whilst rooting around the Men of Letters archives you moved on to shooting. You took a swig of your water and wiped the sheen of sweat from your brow before picking up your gun firing relentlessly at the target until you hit the centre enough times that you were satisfied. By the time you were done your hands were trembling ever so slightly as you checked your clock and cursed. It was much later than you thought: it had crept into the early hours of the morning and you knew you would have to be up soon. So, after jumping in the shower you retired to your room to try and get a few short hours in.

You were woken up much earlier than you had hoped you would be. Your brothers had never been that subtle, no matter how hard they tried to be. To your ears anyway, you supposed spending so much time with them would do that to you.

Groggily pulling yourself up, you cracked open the door to see your two brothers sneaking down the hallway with their duffel bags slung over their shoulders.

“Dean?” You asked, sleep still very evident in your voice. It matched perfectly with the dark bags that hung under your eyes.

Dean froze, scrunching his face up before turning and facing you. “Hey Sweetheart…”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Dean said automatically trying to ignore the fact that you had caught him.

“Dean.”

“Jody called. Sam and I are going to help her with a hunt.” He admitted, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. The contents rattled and you knew that it was filled with a concoction of weapons.

“And you were just going to leave me here?”

“It’s not far. We were going to be back before lunch. Maybe even before you woke up.”

You stared at him and Sam, hurt.

“I’m coming.” You turned on your heel to grab the bag you kept under your bed for hunts.

You didn’t get far before Dean stopped you. “No you’re not. You need to sleep Y/N. You look like hell.”

“Wow. Thank you, Dean.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No-”

“Dean.” Sam shook his head, looking at your stubborn expression that you were using to try and hide the fact that you were pissed that they were trying to leave you. He nearly second guessed himself when he took in how tired you looked, but he couldn’t leave you on your own again. “Just let her come.”

The eldest Winchester sighed. “Fine. You have five minutes to meet us in the car or we’re leaving without you.”

You were tired. And not just the ‘I haven’t slept more than eight hours total in the last three days’ kind of tired. The kind of tired where all of your muscles ache and your legs feel like jelly, where your vision swarms and your head pounds, wracked with an increasing nausea induced headache. The kind of tired where simply breathing makes your chest hurt and drains all of your energy. By the time the hunt was done you could barely hold the machete in your trembling hands.

Jody had called Sam and Dean to help her hunt a nest of vampires that seemed to be much larger than usual; around 15 vamps and counting. She had stumbled upon it accidentally and with Claire out of state, she felt she needed the help of you and your brothers. Luckily you had reached her in time, but the fight was tiresome and gruesome, and the four of you barely made it away unscathed for the most part. But you were oh so tired…

Swaying on your feet, you blinked away your blurry vision, clutching onto the doorframe of the house to keep yourself upright. Sam had tried to get you to sleep in the car, but with the rough terrain you struggled to drift off and oh boy was it getting to you now. You were surprised your body was even still functioning at this point.

“Y/n/n?” Sam asked, stricken with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” You tried to brush him off, letting go of the wall and taking a step forward “I just need to-”

Your legs gave out completely and you crumpled to the floor, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Y/N!” Dean skidded to your side. “Y/N?!” He shook your shoulders. “Sam!”

Sam patted you lightly on your cheek. “Y/N. Wake up.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t even stir an inch.

“She should be awake by now.”

A quiet voice was barely audible from somewhere in the room. You opened your eyes a peak; just enough to make out two tall figures standing across the room. Your body felt like it had been tossed in the air and then run over by a truck, though you felt less groggy than you remember feeling when-

“Give her time, Dean. Her body was completely exhausted. She needs to rest.”

“She’s been asleep for days, Sam. How much longer is ‘time’?”

You groaned. “Would you two just shut up for two minutes?”

“Y/n?!” Dean moved to the side of your bed joined by his little brother. You smiled tiredly at him, noting the way his stubble seemed to be more unkempt than usual and he had bags under his eyes.

“Hi boys.”

Sammy let out a sigh of relief. “You had us so worried, Kid.”

“Sorry…”

“You gotta take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

That made you laugh a little. “Take your own advice, Winchester.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Touche.”

“But seriously, kiddo.” Sam interjected, wrapping you up in his arms. “You come first, alright. You matter to us more than grades and hunting. When you passed out- the thought of losing you isn’t something we ever want to think about. So you gotta promise that you’ll look after yourself for us.”

“Okay.” You nodded.

“Promise?” Dean stuck out his pinky finger with a childish grin.

You interlocked yours with his. “Promise.”

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welcome-to-green-hills · 12 days

Note

Any spoilers that you have for the show?

Hey Darlin’!❤️✨

Yes, I can talk about some spoilers. What I’m going to do is combine all of the teasers, feel good reviews, and everything in between down below for you to read. All of the hyperlinks to magazine reviews and tweets will be linked after my bullet points.

Without further ado, here are some spoilers:

Most people who saw the series (I.E., the fans of Sonic, fans of younger audience media, fans of feel good shows) gave it a strong 4 star rating. Those that were casual enjoyers gave it a 3 1/2 star rating.

The show has a good balance between Knuckles and Wade, but the general public that saw the series wished for more Knuckles. There is one episode where he appears very little in that focused more on Wade. However, the episode explains why Wade is the way that he is. Other than that, Knuckles and Wade have a pretty good friendship.

There’s one episode that mostly a rock-opera musical. This has been deemed as the best episode in the series by attendees, or the worst episode if you hate ear worms. If you’re curious, this is episode 4.

Knuckles is treated more as an explorer (he’s very much a fish-out-of-water) trying to understand Earth and his role with his new family. The attendees have made it a point in saying that he’s very much like he was in the second film. Not once is he described as an idiot by the attendees.

Knuckles practices tough love.

Agent Mason, Agent Willoughby, and the Buyer aren’t necessarily a threat. They’re more comical villains. The agents are easily the best and bounce off of each other very well.

The show is “unapologetically chaotic fun,” as well as heartwarming.

The show ties in with the second and third film, but it’s not the end of the world if you don’t watch it right away. It’s recommended if you want info on some spoilers.

The show is designed to be binged. You can save it if you want, but binging is highly recommended if you want to remain tied to the story and emotions. Make sure to rewatch it a second time.

Runtime for some of the episodes is between 24–35 minutes long.

You lose count in Easter eggs.

Attendees have made it a point in saying that the CGI for the miniseries is very good! Knuckles, Sonic, and Tails blend right in with the environment. There are one or two hiccups, but they can be overlooked.

Boss fights are entertaining.

Knuckles refers to Maddie as a motherly figure at one point in the series.

The show’s OST is a headbanger.

The show LIGHTLY teases Sonic 3, but the show makes it a point to be its own thing.

References:

Aymar, Ricardo (2024) The Hollywood Handle

Calvert, Tyler (2024) YouTube

Lister, James (2024) Get Your Comic On

Martin-Jones, Josh (2024) Streamr

Martin-Jones, Josh (2024) Tweet

Poole, James (2024) Discussion Films

Rama’s Screen (2024) YouTube

Russell, Bradley (2024) Game Radar

#knuckles series #knuckles show #knuckles spoilers #knuckles series spoilers #sonic cinematic universe #knuckles the echidna

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luvangelbreak · 2 months

Note

watching a horror movie with Chris, and every time you get scared you hide your face in his chest!!! And he’s just rubbing your back the whole time comforting uu

Safe

christopher sturniolo x alice reyna (female!oc)

summary: alice has the bright idea to watch a horror movie to prove she’s not a scaredy-cat to her best friend chris. unfortunately for her, it backfires and chris gets his point proven. warnings: swearing, fluff (sm fluff my god), mentions of panic and dolls? word count: 1.2k a/n: ik the request said “you” but for those who haven’t read my pinned, i cannot bring myself to write w y/n so i use oc’s as a replacement. i hope that y’all will like this one tho i love chris fluff sm (this is also so funny bc chris is the biggest scardey-cat out of the triplets)

not proofread!!

I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to convince Chris to watch Annabelle Comes Home with me, I couldn’t sit through any horror movie without screaming my head off like a little kid. Chris didn’t like them either but because of a stupid bet and neither of us never backing down from a challenge, we agreed to watch one.

“I bet you can’t sit through a whole horror movie without crying into my shoulder,” Chris challeneged, a daring look in his eye and I scoffed at him.

“I could say the same for you, scaredy-cat. You can’t even watch Coraline without pissing your pants,” I pointed an accusing finger at him and he gasped, throwing his hands to his chest dramatically.

“I was 9 when that happened. That does not count you asshole!” he retorted, shoving my shoulder in protest.

After an hour of arguing about who would get more scared, the bet was made. Whoever gets scared first loses and has to pay up the $20.

We sat down on Chris’s bed, the darkness of the room making the movie seem more eerie than usual, the only light being emitted from the TV. We were only 15 minutes into the movie and not much had happened yet but it didn’t stop my shoulders from tensing in anticipation.

“You’re so losing this bet,” Chris taunted me and I looked over to see him completely relaxed with a beanie on his head, covers over his torso and arms behind his head as he smirked at me, “You already look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“I look like this when I watch any movie,” I lied through my teeth, holding my head high as I unwrapped my arms from around my legs, letting my knees fall away from my chest as I fiddled with the hem of Chris’s hoodie that I stole since I forgot my own.

“Mhm,” he hummed unconvincingly and I rolled my eyes, ignoring his taunts as my eyes focused back on the screen. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I continued waiting for a jumpscare at any given moment.

“It’s cheating if you’re just watching me the whole time and not the movie,” I mumbled, not looking away from the screen as I bit my lip nervously.

“Who’s gonna call you out when you get scared then?” he retorted quickly and I leaned my hand over his torso, smacking him in the chest causing him to let out a huff.

“Watch the goddamn movie, Christopher,” I grumbled, regretting my decision of agreeing to this bet in the first place. As the movie continued, I jumped at the small jumpscares and I heard Chris chuckle.

"You know you've already lost?" he asked rhetorically and I nodded, sliding into him as my fear started to show. With a snicker, he lifted his arm as I wrapped my arms around his torso, cuddling into his side to hide my face from the jumpscares of the movie.

"Why didn't we pick a movie without dolls? They're like my worst fear," I mumbled and Chris began tracing circles on my back with his thumb, distracting me from the movie slightly.

"Because I wanted to win," he said and I could hear the smile in his voice making me shake my head, a sour expression covering my face.

"You're an asshole," I mumbled, hiding my face in his hoodie when another jumpscare appeared on screen but I was now determined to get through the whole movie at the very least.

"You love me," he retorted, being unphased by the movie now that he was amused that he won the bet and I looked up at him, flicking his forehead with my finger before resuming my place on his chest.

"I hate you actually. This was not a fair movie to put on," I grumbled, my anxiety spiking as the movie progressively got more terrifying. Chris could sense my terror as he pulled me tighter against him and I yelped when another jumpscare appeared on the screen.

"Ali, we can turn it off if you want," he said softly and I stubbornly shook my head, eyes still trained on the screen.

"I want to get through the whole movie. There's only thirty minutes left," I announced and he hummed, an unsure tone behind the sound as I gripped onto his hoodie like he was going to slip away from me at any given moment.

The last 30 minutes of the movie felt like it lasted forever as I gripped onto Chris for dear life but soon enough the movie came to an end and I let out a breath of relief.

"Alright, twenty on my Venmo thanks," Chris ruffled my hair as I sat up before I swatted his hand away, annoyed that he was so amused by my fear as I frowned at him.

"I'm not going home," I deadpanned and his eyebrows furrowed, an amused smile on his lips.

"Why?" he questioned, adjusting his sweatpants before sitting up further and I knelt back onto my heels.

"Because I'll have a fucking panic attack if I sleep alone tonight. I'm gonna be seeing dolls all across my room for the next week!" I exclaimed and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face still.

"You're so dramatic," he laughed and I let my body slump back further till my back hit the bed making me sigh loudly. My mind kept flashing of the jumpscares in the movie making my anxiety spike once again and I think Chris noticed because he leaned forward, placing a hand on my knee.

"This was such a bad idea," I mumbled, my breathing becoming more shallow the more I thought about it and I looked up to see Chris's demeanour change, now softening at my genuine fear.

"Come here," he opened his arms and I sat up before sliding forward on my stomach, placing my head on his stomach as he ran a hand through my hair to calm me, "It's okay. Nothing gonna hurt you. It's all made up, remember?"

"I know," I mumbled against his hoodie, the feeling of having him close to me bringing me a sense of calm again, "I just really hate horror movies."

"It wasn't fair to put Annabelle on. I'm sorry," he said softly making me look up to see an apologetic expression covering his face.

"Does that mean you will let me watch a movie with your biggest fear?" I asked with a smile and he gave me a confused look as I reached over him, grabbing the remote before flicking through the movies on Netflix.

I found one of my favourite movies, putting it on before Chris groaned, throwing his head back onto the headboard.

"Are you serious? Ten Things I Hate About You?" he groaned and I laughed, nodding as I looked up at him.

"You're biggest fear. A relationship," I twinkled my hands in front of his face, shaking my voice to make it sound more spooky and he swatted my hand away.

"You're lucky I feel bad for you right now or I'd knock you out," he threatened and I rolled my eyes in response, placing my head back on his stomach as his hand returned to my hair.

“I’m terrified,” I mumbled sarcastically as I smiled against the cloth of his hoodie and I practically hear him rolling his eyes.

He continued massaging my scalp and playing with my hair as I focused my attention on the movie instead of the terrifying thoughts in my head. Soon enough, Chris's soothing motions and the familiar movie sent me into a slumber as I held Chris against me closely.

tags:

@dsturniolo @sturniolopepsi @chrissturnioloswifesblog @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @stunza @pinklittleflower @v1nuswrites @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn

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heartateasee · 3 months

Text

“House Call”

Warnings: Slight degradation, bondage, hair pulling, brief spanking, a bit of spitting and unprotected sex

Word Count: 11.9k

✧✧✧

With her heels clicking against the floor, Rowan made her way through the lobby of the office building. She looked at the directory on the wall, locating the name 'Starr Entertainment' before stepping into the elevator and selecting the correct floor. She fiddled with the heavy gold watch on her wrist as she watched the number change on the screen in the box she was occupying.

She stepped out of the elevator once she got to the proper floor, walking down the hall to suite 710. Her eyes wandered around the hallway to make sure no one was watching before slipping inside.

The last thing she needed was an employee, or an investor of hers, seeing her enter this type of place.

Rowan looked to the man behind the desk as she walked forward.

"Hi, I have a meeting with Steven," she said confidently.

The man's eyes wandered over her, and he raised an eyebrow. "You're Rowan?"

She was sure that her clean and tidy appearance made it hard for him to believe that she was coming here to hire a male stripper, but it was her friend's thirtieth birthday. Maggie always talked about how she wanted to be surprised with a stripper on one of her birthdays, so Rowan decided what better birthday to do it for than this one.

The only issue - her and Maggie have very different taste in men. Rowan knew what Maggie liked, but that little detail was going to make this a bit difficult for her.

"Yes, that's me," Rowan answered with a nod of her head. "I'm due at a business dinner in an hour, so I need this to move as quickly as possible, please."

Steven rolled his eyes with a sigh and stood from the desk. "I'm Steven, follow me."

They walked down the hall a bit before he turned into what looked like a proper office with binders on the desk.

"Those are my guys that I've got currently," he said pointing at them. "Take your pick, and I'll let you know who's available that day out of the ones you choose."

"I can't just tell you what she likes and you pick some options out for me?" Rowan asks, a little frustrated as she really didn't have time for all this.

"Nope," Steven answered, sitting down on the couch that was also in this space. "It's easier if you do it yourself, trust me."

Accepting the fact that she was going to have to do all the work on her own, Rowan flipped open the binder and began to work through it - page by page after she sat down in the office chair. Each page contained 4 pictures of the men, none of them naked, however, as that's not the kind of business they ran at this particular entertainment agency. The men only ever got down to their underwear, and that's the main reason why Rowan chose them.

She didn't want to have to look at the dick of a man who was not her type.

She had been flipping for about five minutes or so before she stopped, glancing over one of the guys, and giving his page a bit more attention than the others.

'Harry Styles - 29 - 6'0".'

Steven made note that Rowan dwelled on the particular man she was looking at, and he popped up from the couch, standing to look over her shoulder.

"Ah, Harry," he said with a bit of a nod. "He's one of our most popular, but that's because he's good. Been with me for a little over three years now."

Rowan swallowed thickly as she stared at the pictures provided. He was toned, she'd give him that, but all the tattoos didn't do it for her. However, she knew they'd do it for her friend. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip before hearing a knock on the open door.

"Hey boss," a raspy British accent filled the room, and Rowan and Steven both looked over. "I'm just here to pick up my check."

Steven smirked softly. "Well, if it isn't the man himself. I think we have another booking for you, Styles. Rowan here was just eying your page."

Rowan's eyes trailed over Harry, who was dressed in a pair of light blue flared jeans, and a white ringer tee that had red adorning the collar and the cuffs of the sleeves. The material strained against his large biceps, and the light colored shirt made the black ink against his tanned skin stand out even more.

His curls were a little messy, and his striking green eyes were staring right back at Rowan. A crooked grin appeared on Harry's lips as he chewed a piece of gum between his molars.

"Is that so?"

He made his way into the office, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not entirely true," Rowan said after clearing her throat. "I'm still looking through."

Harry scoffed and leaned down to place his hands on the edges of the desk, fingers curling around it. "And what would it take to convince you that I'm the perfect choice?"

Rowan made note of how his muscles flexed when clutching to the wooden surface, along with the ticking of his jaw every time he'd bite down on his gum.

"Nothing, like I said, I'm still looking."

Licking over his bottom lip, Harry straightened up and grabbed the back of his shirt between his shoulder blades. He pulled it up and over his head, tossing it onto the nearby couch before running a hand up and through his hair.

"How about now?" He asked.

Rowan could've cursed herself for not only the way her stomach flipped at the sight of his bare torso, but also the clenching of her thighs.

"Well, you're a cocky one, aren't you?" Rowan questioned with a raise of her brow. "Four nipples, and what is that...a dick disguised in a banana peel around your neck?"

Harry let out a laugh, tilting his head back. "I can assure you that no one cares about my extra two nipples when I'm grinding over their lap, and you're right - a banana dick."

Rowan knew he'd be perfect for her friend, and it sucked because she wished she could shoot him down in order to bruise his ego, but she knew she couldn't be selfish about this.

"Fine, but I'll need you to dress up."

"That's fine," Harry said with a shrug, walking over to the couch to retrieve his shirt. "Nothing I haven't done before."

"Grease is her favorite movie, so you'll be dressing as Danny Zuko that evening," Rowan stated as she stood up, shutting the binder. She rounded the desk and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the front of it. "I'll get all the clothing you'll need, just give me your sizes, and then we can meet a few days before the party so I can give them to you."

"Any song in particular I should keep in mind?"

Rowan almost didn't hear his question as her focus was on his muscles rippling as he moved his arms around to get his shirt back on.

"Grease Lightning would probably be the best," she said. "Seems fitting."

Harry snorted out a laugh while shaking his head. "Sure does."

Rolling her eyes, Rowan fished her credit card out of her purse to hand over to Steven. "My friend's gonna love you. Me? Not so much."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed as he moved closer to her while Steven moved out of the office. He was on a mission to write up the contract, and to run Rowan's card back at the desk he was sitting at previously.

"You're not my type at all. I don't like tattoos," Rowan said, smirking now that she was finally able to take a jab at him. "And I like my men sophisticated, something you're clearly not."

Harry ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he tilted his head to the side. "I'll have you changing your mind at that party of yours, I'm sure."

Now Rowan was the one to laugh, pressing a hand to her stomach as she doubled over. "You really are so full of yourself, huh? I can assure you that my mind will not be swayed."

Harry leaned down so he could be eye level with her, and she could instantly smell the spearmint from his gum as it filled her nostrils. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

Before she could even comprehend the closeness they just shared, Harry was sending her a wink before walking out of the office.

She didn't like the way he made her feel. He wasn't her type, and he wouldn't be an exception no matter how hard he tried.

Steven returned shortly after, having her read over the contract and sign it. He provided her with Harry's measurements, and said just to call up the office and arrange a time for the two of them to meet up for her to hand over the clothes.

Rowan thanked him for his time before heading out and into the elevator. Her mind was boggled as she looked down at the copy of the contract in her hand, and she couldn't resist flipping to the page that had Harry's photos on it.

The elevator dinging caused her to jump, and she quickly folded up the papers while exiting the office building.

✧✧✧

It was Saturday night, and the night of Maggie's birthday party. Rowan was running around like a mad woman as she tried to make sure everything looked perfect. She had insisted on having the party at her place, and that's mostly because she had more room here than Maggie had at her apartment.

She didn't want anyone to feel crowded considering there were about 15-20 women coming other than Maggie and herself. Also, she'd rather not be confined to such a tight space with Harry.

Just the thought of him caused Rowan to tighten her grip on the vegetable tray she had in her hands as she walked over to her dining room table.

Her and Harry had met up earlier this week so that she could drop off everything he needed for Danny, and, of course, they had just continued making jabs at each other.

"Here's everything you're going to need - muscle tank, leather jacket, dark skinny jeans, a black belt and the shoes," Rowan told Harry, shoving the shopping bag into his chest. "Please, make sure you only wear these things. I didn't get you white socks because I figured you'd already have those."

Harry opened the bag and looked down at everything before fixing his gaze back to Rowan, tilting his head to the side. "I thought you said you would be supplying everything I need, and your costume requires me to wear white socks, right?"

Rowan was clenching her teeth so hard she thought they could break. "Are you fucking kidding me? I really don't have time for this right now. I'm just supposed to drop this off to you and go."

"There's a store right there," Harry continued to push, pointing at the building. "Let's run in real quick and you can buy them for me."

"I told you, I don't have time - I have somewhere I need to be in twenty minutes," Rowan stated firmly, pulling her phone out to check the time. "Yep, twenty minutes, no time. You can figure that one part out on your own."

"Where do you have to be so urgently? It's after work hours, and I know you're not going on a date."

"As a matter of fact, I am," Rowan said proudly, shrugging her shoulders. "So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go, and I'll see you on Saturday."

Harry whistled out, shaking his head as he shot Rowan a smug smirk. "Feel sorry for whoever has to deal with your shitty attitude for the whole night. You're definitely not going to get laid."

Rowan kept her expression stoic, but she truly wanted to grimace at his words. "I've never had an issue with that before. I think I'll be just fine, but thanks for your concern."

She moved to walk around him, but Harry was quick to wrap his hand around her forearm - causing her to spin around and collide with his chest. "Oh, please don't think of my thoughts as me being concerned for you. Just find you a little pathetic is all."

Eyebrows narrowed, Rowan ripped her arm from Harry's grip. "Who the hell do you think you are speaking to me that way?"

"I think you're the woman who practically insulted not only my appearance, but also my level of sophistication when we first met. I'm just giving you back what you dealt to me."

"As if you think I care about what you have to say or think about me," Rowan told him, shaking her head. "See you Saturday."

Thinking about their encounter made a sense of anger settle in Rowan's chest. The fact she had to see him tonight had her skin crawling, but she'd grin and bear it so that her friend could have the best birthday ever.

The party started promptly, and about an hour in she heard a knock at the door. She had been the one to greet the guests all evening, and she was mostly doing that so she could quickly hide Harry from her friends once he arrived since no one knew about this surprise.

She walked over and opened the door, gasping as she saw Harry in front of her. He was already in costume, the tight black jeans hugging his toned legs, and he had his curls back in the proper hairstyle. It was also obvious that he had sprayed his hair black for the occasion.

The leather jacket hung perfectly over his torso, and she could see the ripples of his muscles through the muscle tank that covered his abdomen. There was a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and she figured it was probably the clothes he wished to change into once he was done.

"So...are you going to let me in, or are you just going to stand there and continue to gawk at me?"

Harry's voice snapped Rowan out of her daze, and she brought her eyes up to look into his. She cleared her throat as she reached out to grab his arm, pulling him inside. She shut the door behind him, and turned to face him while holding her index finger over her lips.

She walked quickly across the hall to her guest room, and closed them in.

"Okay, so give me like five minutes, and I'll start the music-"

Rowan looked down all the way to Harry's shoes, and noticed that he didn't have socks on, his bare ankles showing due to his jeans being rolled up.

"Where are your socks?" She asked with wide eyes. "Are you seriously going to be that petty?"

"A deal is a deal," Harry said as he plopped down on the side of the plush bed, allowing his bag to slide off his shoulder and meet the floor. "In the contract that you signed, it said that you would supply every part of the costume. That includes the socks, Miss CEO."

Rowan scowled at him as she walked to the dresser in the room, beginning to rummage through the drawers.

"You're so fucking frustrating, you know that?" She complained while moving things around.

Her brother would spend the night with her often when he was in town on business, and she was sure that he had to have left some socks here over the course of his many stays.

"This wouldn't have been an issue tonight if you had gotten them to begin with, or if you had decided to be just a little late for your date. We could've gone into that store together and picked some out right then and there."

Rowan's movements halted when Harry brought up her date, and she shuddered when she thought about the awful sex she had that night. They say size doesn't always matter, which can sometimes be true, but when you don't even know what to do with what you have, how do you ever expect to get someone off?

They had gone back to his place, and Rowan dipped out before they could even finish. The douchebag hardly touched her, and the sex had been going on for about ten minutes without either one of them even getting close to their orgasms. Rowan was the one to speak up, and she practically flung the man off of her so she could scurry around the room and gather her belongings.

Harry chuckling right behind her caused Rowan to jump, and she quickly turned around after grabbing a pair of socks from the drawer. He didn't put his hands on her, and he didn't put his hands on the dresser to cage her in, but he did walk forward so they were chest to chest once again.

"Your face, and your body language, tells me everything I need to know about your little date," he said before running his tongue along the front of his top teeth. He took the socks from Rowan, tossing the bundle in the air before catching it. "You were left unsatisfied."

Rowan wanted to shut him up, and it pissed her off even more that she wanted to shut him by putting her lips against his instead of it being her fist colliding with his mouth.

"That's hardly the truth," she lied, shaking her head. "And it's also none of your business. You're here to do your job, not pester me about my personal life."

The smirk that curled onto Harry's lips had Rowan's knees buckling, and she reached behind her to brace herself on the dresser. She cursed herself internally, having made it so obvious that he had a hold on her considering how he looked tonight.

"You okay there, Rowan? Looking a little flushed," Harry teased, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Hearing her name tumble from Harry's lips had her almost falling out on the floor, no matter how much the surface behind her was stabilizing her. "What are you thinking about?"

What was she thinking about?

There was absolutely no way that she was going to tell him about the fantasy currently playing in her head since the image of her lips on his popped up. She pictured him picking her up, but quickly dropping her back on top of the dresser. Neither one of them would bother underdressing, both way too eager to just get this done and over with, but they were also just so hungry for each other. Harry would just get his jeans down to the middle of his thighs, while Rowan would reach underneath the wine colored dress she had on to move her black lace panties to the side.

Regardless of the personal frustration that was prominent, it was blatantly obvious that the sexual tension between them was a beginning to overpower that emotion.

Snapping herself out of the daydream, Rowan parted her lips to respond to Harry, but no words would come out. Harry let out a high pitched laugh at her silence, leaning down a bit which caused Rowan's chin to tilt up so she could still face him.

"I told you that I'd have you changing your mind tonight, and it looks like that's already starting."

Rowan couldn't even process his words before Harry walked back over to the bed, and sat back down. He removed his shoes, and began to slip on the socks she had given him.

"F-five minutes," Rowan croaked out, pushing herself off the dresser to run her hands over her dress to smooth it out. "Give me five minutes, and then I'll start the music and you come out."

There was no time for him to answer because Rowan moved so fast to get out of that space with Harry. Her guest room was in no way small, but with him in it, she felt like she was suffocating. She pressed herself against the wall outside the door to catch her breath a bit before shaking it off, heading into the living room.

"Maggie, let's get you a refill!" She cheered, taking her friend's drink and topping it off.

She wanted to make sure her friend had a full drink beside her before Harry got started, as she wasn't sure exactly how long he'd be going for, and Rowan wasn't about to be in that close of proximity to his dancing. No, she planned on standing in the dining room behind the living room with both double doors open so she could still see, but she would be far enough away so that Harry wouldn't be near her.

Once Rowan had Maggie's refill, she handed it back to her, and then grabbed the remote for her soundbar.

"Alright, so to really kick off this party, I decided that we'd start with a song from Maggie's favorite movie," Rowan said while flipping through to her music app. She clicked on it and typed in 'Grease Lightning' before looking around at everyone. "Are you all ready?"

Rowan was speaking louder than she normally would, but she wanted to make sure that Harry could hear her in the bedroom so that he was prepared. While setting up the party, she had already made sure to put a chair in the middle of the living room - using the excuse that it's where Maggie could open her presents. In reality, she had that there for Harry to coax Maggie into once his routine really got started.

The group of friends screamed and cheered, and Rowan pressed play before quickly setting the remote down. She started towards the back of the room as the music began to flow through the living room, and Maggie was already starting to dance.

Rowan peeked over her shoulder as she heard the guest bedroom door open, and out stepped Harry. He rounded the corner into the living room, causing all the girls to stop and stare at him.

"I've heard a little pink lady has a birthday today," he said, putting on an American accent - yelling over the opening dialogue of the song.

Rolling her eyes, Rowan shook her head and walked behind the table once she was in the dining room, beginning to nibble on snacks as she continued to avoid watching what was going on in the other area.

She was doing a good job of ignoring the activities happening amongst her friends before she heard their screams. Looking up from the table, Rowan's eyes caught sight of Harry's muscular abdomen as he peeled off the black muscle tank, his leather jacket already wrapped around Maggie as she sat in front of him.

Harry moved forward so that Maggie was between his legs, and he lifted one of her hands to run it over his chest, and then his abs. He began to roll his body, and Rowan could see Maggie tilt her head back with a loud laugh. Her friend was one to laugh in situations such as these because she didn't know what else to do, but she knew that Maggie wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest.

The music continued on, and she watched as Harry undid the black belt, quickly pulling it through the belt loops and dropping it to the floor. Rowan tried to will herself to look away, she really did, but she found herself in a trance with the way Harry's body moved in those tight jeans.

As the song neared its end, Rowan watched as Harry buttoned and unzipped his pants while her teeth sank into her bottom lip. She was holding a piece of celery in her hand that she had snagged from the vegetable tray, only one bite taken out of it since she had gotten so distracted.

Somehow, Harry managed to make reaching down to loosen the jeans around his ankles sexy, before he stood up straight. Within a blink, he pulled the jeans from his body, leaving him in a pair of tight black Calvin Kleins that hugged his crotch.

The celery stick in Rowan's hand hit the table as her mouth gaped, her eyes drawn to the prominent bulge that she could see. All the whistling and hollering from her friends sounded muffled in her ears, and it wasn't until her eyes looked back to Harry's face that she saw he was already looking right at her.

Rowan felt heat spreading across her cheeks and her neck, and she quickly made her way into the kitchen to avoid Harry catching her stares any longer.

Harry was in the process of cleaning his clothes up from the floor since the song had ended, but that didn't stop all the girls from talking to him - praising him on his performance.

"You should really stay for a couple of drinks!" One of the girls told him, and he looked over to her with a crooked grin.

"Yeah, if you all are okay with that," he responded, still faking his accent.

The agreement was unanimous amongst the women surrounding him, but that didn't include Rowan. Knowing that little detail made Harry feel like he had the upper hand on her, and he wanted to watch her squirm with him continuing to be there.

Harry carried himself to the guest room, and shuffled through his bag to get his fresh set of clothes out. He folded the costume that Rowan had supplied him, stacking it and leaving it on the bed for her to retrieve later. There was no point in him keeping any of it.

In just his briefs, he made his way into the in suite and saw the shower with the detachable shower head. He hung his head into the glass cubicle and turned on the water. Harry dug his nails into his hair and his scalp as he washed the dark spray away, and once he was sure he had it all out, he shut off the water and placed the shower head back in its appropriate spot.

Whistling to himself, he grabbed a towel from one of the shelves, running it over his head while he walked back into the bedroom.

Once he was back at his clothes, Harry pulled on his pair of light colored ripped jeans, and a plain white t-shirt. Licking over his bottom lip, he slipped into a pair of black and white Old Skool Vans before exiting the room, placing his bag by the door.

Rowan stood there in the kitchen with Maggie as her friend ranted and raved over Harry and his body. Maggie had a boyfriend, so obviously there wasn't any chance of something happening between the two of them, but some of the other girls thought they may have a chance. Rowan tried her best to remind the girls that he was here for work, and that she was sure he wanted to remain professional.

Her eyes quickly found Harry's as he walked into the room, and it was almost laughable how all attention became fixed on him.

"What are you doing?" Rowan asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. She immediately noticed that he had washed the black spray out of his hair, his chestnut curls still damp, and a bit unruly, on top of his head.

"I was invited by all of these lovely women to stay for a couple of drinks," Harry answered, walking forward to stack his arms one over the other - leaning against the bar of her kitchen. "One of them being the birthday girl, and I think she gets the say tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

It seemed like all the girls froze when they heard Harry's true accent, and Rowan's anger only grew with the way her friends were clearly drooling over him.

"Fine," Rowan agreed through clenched teeth, not wanting to be a wet blanket on her friend's night. "A couple of drinks. A couple is two - in case you needed the reminder."

Rowan's friends hardly paid attention to the clear animosity between the two individuals as Rowan walked back into the dining room to her bar cart. Once she approached it, she realized she had no idea what Harry liked to drink.

"Tequila, silver," the words dripped into her ears as she huffed out a breath, propping her hands up on the cart.

Harry grew ignorant when he saw the reaction Rowan had to just his voice, and he peered over his shoulder to see that they were shielded by the wall that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

"Did you enjoy it?" He questioned, stepping closer, but still not touching her. He could see the way her back was rising and falling, and it was clear just his presence had her reeling. "I saw you looking...staring."

Rowan pressed her tongue into the inside of her lower lip as she grabbed a rocks glass, scooping some ice out of the bucket she had prepped for the night. "I was watching to make sure my friend had a good night, that's all."

She grabbed the bottle of silver tequila she had at the ready, unscrewing the top before pouring some into the glass.

Harry's body heat was radiating against her, and it was everything Rowan could do to keep her hands from shaking.

"Are you sure that was your true reason for watching, Ro?" Harry's lips brushed against Rowan's ear just briefly as he whispered to her. She was fighting diligently to keep her eyes from slipping shut while resisting the urge to lean back into him - the nickname he had given her causing her brain to fog up.

Rowan swallowed harshly as she put the bottle of tequila back down. Once again he was rendering her speechless, and she hadn't been this way around anyone in a long time.

Harry's hand came in contact with the outside of her arm, fingertips running up and down it as Rowan sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

"Y-yes, I'm sure," She whispered out, fighting against the fog in her mind that was only seeming to grow.

"Tell me something and this time, don't lie to me. You were watching because you wished you had been the one sitting in that chair, hm?" Harry's tone was so sultry, but teasing, as his lips ghosted over the side of her neck - goosebumps erupting all over her skin. "Couldn't keep your eyes off me the entire time, especially there at the end. Did you like what you were seeing?"

Rowan was so in her head that she didn't realize Harry had moved his arm around her waist so that his hand could rest on her stomach. The pads of his fingers danced across the material of her dress, causing her body to slightly jump at the sudden contact. It felt good, so good that her body seemed to pulse with jolts of electricity, but she knew that this couldn't happen.

"That's what you would like for me to admit, wouldn't you?" Rowan asked before breaking away from his grasp. She turned around to shove the rocks glass full of tequila into his hand, and Harry stared down at her with a gaping mouth.

"You don't get to just touch me like that. You'll have your two drinks, and you'll go. And don't flatter yourself by thinking I'm doing this to keep you here - I'm doing this so I don't ruin my friend's night by kicking your ass out."

Rowan quickly dipped down the hallway that was off the side of the dining room, opposite of the kitchen, so she could go and cool down in the bathroom. Harry's eyes kept tight to her retreating form as he sipped his alcohol.

It wasn't like him to lose out on trying to seduce a woman like that, but maybe he had read the signs all wrong. Maybe she really didn't find him attractive, and all she wanted was to make sure her friend had the best birthday ever.

✧✧✧

It was a Saturday night, and Rowan sat on her couch with a glass of red wine in her hand. Her TV was off, causing her to stare back at her reflection that she could see on the black screen. Every now and then her eyes would flick to the clock, and this time when she looked, it read 8:58 pm.

Two more minutes.

Taking a large sip of her wine, she got it down to about halfway. She began to nibble on her bottom lip once she swallowed - wondering if she had made a mistake with what she had signed up for this evening.

It had been three weeks since Maggie's thirtieth, and Rowan hated to admit it, but she couldn't get Harry out of her head.

The goosebumps that coated her skin from his touch, the way his heart shaped lips would curl up into that signature smirk, and, fuck, the way those tight black Calvin Kleins clung to his -

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Right on time, of course," Rowan muttered under her breath, setting her glass of wine down as she pushed herself off the couch.

For the first time in years, she was nervous.

Nothing made her nervous these days. Not a board meeting filled with 30-50 men that were more than twenty years her senior, not the initial date with people she'd match with on Tinder, and definitely not someone who presented themselves the way Harry did.

In any other situation, she'd see him as an arrogant son of a bitch, and she'd find ways to knock him down a few pegs.

But for some reason, she couldn't do that with him, at least not tonight.

With her hand around the handle of her front door, Rowan turned it, and opened the barrier that was shielding her from the man she had been fantasizing about more than she'd like to admit.

Harry's eyes immediately met hers, and just like before, he had a duffel bag over his shoulder. This time, however, he was dressed casually to begin with.

Adorned in a pair of mustard yellow corduroys that were slightly flared, and a white t-shirt that fit loose around his neck, Rowan watched as a stray curl lowered itself onto Harry's forehead as he looked down at her.

"Sounds awfully quiet in here for a party," he commented, and she could immediately tell he was chewing gum - much like the first time she had met him.

Rowan had lied when booking him, not being able to find it in herself to admit that she was wanting him again, but just for herself this time. She had told Steven that her friends loved him so much that she wanted him to come back for her friend's bachelorette in a couple of weeks, and it turns out Harry was booked up every weekend until this exact one.

The truth was, Rowan didn't have any friends who were engaged, and a few days after the party, her friends had stopped talking about Harry. But then there was her, not being able to get him out of her head.

Clearing her throat, she moved out of the doorway to allow Harry to step inside before locking everything up behind him.

"T-there's no party," she admitted, clutching her hands into fists to try and hide how they were trembling. "Just me."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Rowan, looking past her petite form, and into the living room, before focusing back down on her. "Well...this is just rich, isn't it?" He chuckled with a shake of his head. "So which is it? You asked me here to yell at me some more? Or to try and insult me even further than you have?"

Rowan moved her head in disagreement with his words. "No it's not that, I-" she stopped herself for a moment, taking in a deep breath before sighing it out. "Look, your cocky attitude is annoying as shit, and I stand by what I said about you typically not being my type, but I...I asked you here for me."

Silence blanketed over the pair, and eventually Rowan was forced to look at her feet from the uneasiness she felt. She was regretting her decision.

How was this a good idea when it made her feel so insecure?

Jumping from sudden contact underneath her chin, Rowan felt the side of Harry's index finger curl against her skin before he applied a bit of pressure - forcing her to look up at him again.

"You want me to strip for you? And just you?" He asked, his voice low, causing Rowan's lips to part as she tried to regain proper breathing.

"Y-yes."

Harry brought his thumb up to tap against the corner of her mouth a couple of times before dropping his hand. "Go have a seat. I'll be out in a few minutes, and I'll take care of the music too."

Not another word was said before Harry walked into her guest room, causing her to have flashbacks from the first time he was here.

Rowan snapped herself out of her daze before walking into her dining room. She grabbed a chair from the table and carried it into her living room, placing it in the middle of the floor.

With her glass of wine in her hand, she sat down in the chair - her body riddled with anxiety.

Part of her wanted to go knock on the door and tell Harry just to forget about it. She'd tell Steven to let him keep the money for wasting his time, and she'd leave it at that. She'd never have to see him again and deal with the embarrassment she felt for bringing him here like this.

Lifting her glass to her lips, she went to take a sip, but paused as she heard the opening of the guest room door. Her eyes snapped over in that direction, and she heard the clicking of shoes against the tiled foyer that he had to walk through in order to reach the living room.

Rowan almost allowed the wine to slip from her hand, but, thankfully, she tightened her grip in time as she looked over Harry's muscular frame once he reappeared.

Dressed in all leather, Harry stood in the archway. The black trousers and the black blazer hung on his body wonderfully. The blazer was open with no shirt underneath, and he had a green boa draped around his shoulders. He was standing a bit taller than normal due to the black heeled boots on his feet.

"Remote?" He asked as he walked forward, still working the piece of gum between his teeth.

Rowan quickly grabbed the remote for her TV off the coffee table and handed it on him, clutching her glass of wine against her chest. She watched as Harry went to her music app, typing in a song before hitting play. A beat rang through just a bit before the vocals started.

"I can taste it on your mouth, and I can't leave it. You're a freak like me - can't you see?"

The music began to fill the living room, and Rowan didn't hesitate to practically down the rest of her wine in one go. Harry's eyebrows narrowed as he watched, and he walked forward to take the empty glass from her hand. He set it down before standing in front of her - bent over so they were face to face.

"Relax, Ro," he instructed, grabbing her other hand that had been gripping to her thigh without her even noticing. "Just breathe."

Rowan inhaled deeply as Harry stood up straight, and straddled her body in the chair between his long legs. He moved her hand to his abdomen, letting her feel over his abs as she pushed her thighs together.

Truth was, Harry was a bit nervous himself. He had never stripped for one person alone like this, and for it to be Rowan, it was enough to drive him crazy. He hated her fucking pretentious attitude, but it would be a complete lie for him to say he didn't find her extremely attractive.

In a way, he completely fed off their banter - the insults turning him on more than he'd like to admit.

As he felt her palm brush against his skin, Harry fought the urge to gasp out at the sensation it brought. His skin was ablaze beneath her touch, and it left him wondering how her small hand would feel if it grazed him, or even gripped him, in other places.

His eyes trailed Rowan's body that he hovered over, her small frame covered in a pair of casual light colored jeans and a nude colored corset-like top. The top allowed for the swells of her smaller, but perky, breasts to rise and fall with each of her breaths, and he couldn't help but let his eyes stay glued to that sight.

Rowan caught where he was staring, and as much as she wanted to make a snarky comment about him gawking at her tits, she couldn't with the way seeing him look at her like that made her feel.

Getting more comfortable, Harry let his hand leave hers for a moment, but Rowan kept it firmly against his abs where he had left it. He pulled the boa off of himself, draping it around her shoulders, before stripping off the blazer.

Fighting the urge to let her other hand rest against his body as well, Rowan's eyes wandered over him, taking in the ink that was embedded in his olive toned skin. She barely comprehended that Harry had her other hand in his grasp now, and he moved that one a bit higher - letting her feel over his pecs.

"You okay?" He asked, watching as blush began to creep over Rowan's neck, and her cheeks.

Rowan nodded, swallowing harshly before answering. "Yes, please, keep going."

Harry couldn't help but smirk to himself, and he placed his hands over both of hers that still held to his torso before he began to roll his body to the beat of the music.

Rowan's mouth ran dry, and she watched the butterfly inked into his skin practically flutter with each roll. She pushed her thighs together even more, but this time Harry actually noticed it.

Moving his hands away from hers, Harry hovered over Rowan more and dragged them down the chair to the bar that sat just a little above the bottom of it. He picked the chair off the floor with ease, watching as Rowan's eyes widened. Her hands gripped to the top of his shoulders, not knowing what his next move was going to be.

Once a certain beat of the song hit, Harry allowed his hands to release the chair, slipping them immediately underneath Rowan's thighs to still keep her up and against him as the chair hit the floor. She moved her arms to wrap around his neck, her heart pounding against her chest.

Harry leaned down, running the tip of his nose over her collarbone as Rowan swallowed down a moan, tilting her head back a bit - causing the boa to slip off her body. She could feel the pants of his breath against her cleavage, having it be cold against her heated skin due to his spearmint gum.

Not being able to resist any longer, Harry kissed over the tops of her breasts that were exposed to him while Rowan ran one of her hands up and through his curls.

After a moment, Harry put Rowan back down in the chair and she watched as his hands met the waistband of his trousers. Her eyes were trained on his fingers as he undid the button, pulling the zipper down as well while he kicked off his boots.

"No denying that you're staring this time, huh, Rowan?" Harry teased, but she could hardly even hear him - knowing that she was so close to seeing the sight that had been replaying in her head for weeks once more.

He allowed the pants to drop around his ankles, and he stepped out of them - his groin now right in front of her face.

"But you want more than just this, don't you?"

Harry's hand cupped Rowan's cheek, moving her face up to look at him. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip for a moment before giving him a nod.

"Yeah? You think I can satisfy you in the way all those men you've come across can't?" He asked as he grabbed the boa off the ground and walked behind her.

Kneeling, he grabbed her small wrists and brought them together. "Is this okay?"

It took a minute for her to realize what Harry was asking, but once she did, she nodded once more.

"Words, Ro, I need words."

"Yes, yes," Rowan gasped, her words coming out more hurried than she intended, but she was desperate and needy. "Do whatever you want, just please..."

Harry smirked to him as he wrapped the boa around her wrists, making sure it was tight, but not too tight to hurt her, before tying it to the back bar on the bottom, similar to the ones he had been holding earlier when he was lifting her in the air. The angle caused Rowan's back to arch slightly, and he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek knowing that it probably had her tits sitting up even better than before.

After standing up, he made his way back around the front, his dick twitching to life when he saw just how immaculate she looked. Almost completely at his mercy, Rowan peered up at him with parted lips, her chest heaving up and down.

"Whatever I want?" He asked, lowering himself down to the ground once more, his large hands traveling over the tops of her thighs.

"Yes, I just need-"

"Need me, huh?" Harry interrupted, a bit of a bite to his tone as one hand traveled right below Rowan's belly button, his fingers popping the button of her jeans open. "Thought I wasn't your type?"

His eyes held hers as he lowered her zipper, and then he moved his other hand up for them to both wrap around the waistband. Rowan lifted her hips blindly, and Harry began to pull her jeans down her legs.

Once they were off, he tossed them to the side, leaving her in just her top and a white lace thong.

"You're not," Rowan replied, clearly lying to not only Harry, but also herself now. "I just...you seem like you know what you're doing, and I need to get off."

That wasn't the answer Harry was looking for, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He went to push himself off the floor to leave, having every intention of leaving Rowan tied up to the chair out of spite, but she quickly realized what he was doing.

"W-wait, no, Harry," she spoke up quickly, her tone borderline begging at this point. "Fuck, okay, I was wrong! Alright? You swayed me, just like you said."

Harry kept his head down to hide the cocky grin that wanted to creep its way onto his lips. There was something about a woman begging for him anyway, but the fact that woman was Rowan, had him feeling so arrogant.

"You sure?" He jousted, wanting her to squirm a bit longer, perched onto the balls of his feet since he was pushing himself to stand just a few seconds ago. "You're not just saying that?"

Rowan groaned, throwing her head back in frustration as she stared at the ceiling. "Yes, I'm fucking sure. I'm not doing this with you. Either you get on with it, or you-"

She stopped speaking when she felt Harry's hand around her throat, not squeezing, but it was enough to get her to shut up. Harry felt her throat contract underneath his palm, signaling that she had swallowed hard, and he knew she was trying to keep her composure.

"No more talking from you for the time being unless you need me to stop, got it?"

Rowan tipped her chin down to look at Harry once more, and she nodded.

"Good girl," he cooed before dropping his hand to the top of her shirt.

His other hand came up as well, and he began to undo the small clasps that lined the front of the top, holding it together. Once they were all undone, Harry let the material hang on her shoulders, not making any movements to push it back to the creases of her arms to reveal more to him.

Leaning forward, Harry ghosted his lips over hers, both of their eyes still open and staring at each other. "Open up."

Rowan separated her lips, unsure of exactly what his next move was going to be. Sneaking his tongue out, Harry rolled the gum from his mouth into hers before sucking on her tongue just a bit. This caused her to mewl out, her hips wiggling against the chair before he popped off.

"Hold that for me, will you?"

To say Rowan was speechless would be an understatement. Even though Harry told her to stop talking, she didn't think she would even be able to at this point. Her eyes followed Harry as he completely lowered himself to his knees once more.

His long fingers hooked into the crotch of her thong, and her hips jolted up as his knuckles brushed across her sensitive clit. Harry sucked his teeth at her eagerness, wanting to tease and degrade her as much as possible. It seemed to get her off just as much as him.

"So fucking needy," he commented with a shake of his head.

Slowly, he dragged the thong down Rowan's thighs, and then down her legs before tossing them to the side with her jeans. The cold air caused her pussy to flutter, the angle she was at having her completely exposed to him already.

Harry hummed as he wrapped his hands around the tops of her thighs, pushing them apart to spread her even more for him. Her wetness had him growing fully hard in his briefs, and he ran his thumbs along the creases between her hips and her pelvis.

Looking into Rowan's eyes, he bit down on his bottom lip and pulled her forward, slinging her legs over his shoulders. The strain against Rowan's shoulders, and arms, in any other situation would be uncomfortable for her, but right now, it was just turning her on even more.

"All this for me?" He asked, kissing over the inside of one of her thighs.

Rowan groaned, forcing herself not to buck her hips up to meet his face already. She was completely drenched and desperate - needing to be touched more than she had ever felt in her life.

Harry ducked his head completely down between her thighs, licking a strip from her dripping entrance to her aching clit, and Rowan shuddered, eyes shutting tight with pleasure.

"You poor fucking thing," he taunted, kitten licking her pearl a few times before speaking again. "This deprived of true satisfaction that you're acting like you haven't even been touched in years."

As much as she wanted to snap back at him, she knew if she spoke out of turn that all of this could be over, and there was no way she was going to let that happen.

"I guess you can be obedient, hm? Don't worry, I'll let you talk again soon, but for right now - I need to focus."

Rowan let out a loud moan as Harry open mouth kissed her slit, the tip of his tongue prodding at her entrance before slipping inside. Her wrists strained against the boa as she arched her back even further, and she wasn't sure if it was going to hold for the entirety of this situation.

She didn't even notice that her top had slipped down her arms, but when Harry opened his eyes to check on her, he saw that her breasts were now on full display. Her pink nipples were hard, poking up towards the ceiling as she was snaking her torso around.

Harry hummed against Rowan at the sight, wishing he had something to ground his hips onto to relieve the ache he was currently dealing with.

He fucked her with his tongue, her heels digging into his back as he went more aggressively. It was obvious that he could get her to an orgasm easily with the way she was responding to him, and he wanted nothing more than to get her there.

Pulling back, he lifted himself up a bit, causing Rowan to squeak out in surprise when his mouth disconnected from her, and her legs moved higher. Harry's lips wiggled as he hovered over her chest, mixing both her arousal and saliva behind his teeth before spitting down onto one of her nipples. He lifted hand to cup the underside of that breast, swiping the pad of his thumb over her skin to spread the wetness around.

He turned his attention to her other breast, repeating the same action of spitting onto it, but this time he leaned down to seal his lips around her nipple. Rowan whined, completely folded in the chair under Harry's large frame at this point. He sucked against the pebbled bud before parting his lips, letting off a bit to allow the tip of his tongue flick over it again and again.

"Fuck," Rowan sighed with her head back on her shoulders, not even realizing she had spoken out of turn.

Harry smirked to himself, letting it slide as he could tell she was completely overcome with pleasure at this point. He kissed over both of her breasts before lowering himself back down, getting back to work on her dripping pussy - eyes shut tight from just how much he was enjoying going down on her. It was easy for Rowan to hear her wetness mixing with Harry's spit, the sound so erotic that a band was beginning to tighten in her lower abdomen.

Once he sank his tongue into her cunt once more, Rowan rocked her hips, her clit grinding against the bridge of Harry's perfect nose.

"O-oh," she moaned, still not realizing she was speaking at this point. "That's good, 's so good."

She was completely drunk off of his mouth, never having someone go down on her this deliciously before. Her thighs began to shake on each side of his head, and Harry was quick to wrap his arms underneath her legs to press his palms against the tops of them, fingertips digging into her skin.

Rowan's eyes fluttered open, and she could see his biceps twitching as he would tighten his grip against her plush flesh every now and then. Her breath was stolen from her as Harry's eyelids snapped open, the green of his eyes barely noticeable with how blown his pupils were.

"Oh fuck," Rowan almost screamed, tossing her head back. "Harry!"

Her orgasm washed over her, feeling like a tidal wave crashing over her body not once, but twice. She continued to grind herself against his nose, his tongue still fucking in and out of her before she slumped down into the chair. Her chest was heaving up and down as Harry carefully pulled her legs off from over his shoulders, setting her feet down flat on the floor.

"So sweet, Ro," he mumbled as he kissed up her body, licking over the roundness of one of her tits before nibbling on her jawline. "You're so fucked right now, aren't you?"

Rowan whimpered as Harry sucked at the hinge of her jaw, fighting once again against her restraint.

"Harry," she whispered, opening her eyes once he pulled away. He was looking down at her, head tilted to the side. "My hands...please."

Harry's eyebrows knitted together with concern, and he quickly shuffled around the back of the chair to undo the knot in the boa that was keeping her captive. He held her wrists in his hands for a minute, running his thumbs along the impressions that were left. They wouldn't bruise, he could tell that much, but they were terribly red.

He stood up and let them fall into Rowan's lap before walking to stand in front of her once more, watching as she shrugged her top all the way off now that her arms were free.

"Are you okay?" He asked, scooping her up, having her wrap her legs around his waist - very similar to the position they were in before, but he was holding her a bit lower this time so her face was level with his instead of above. He noticed she wasn't chewing, and he raised a brow. "What happened to my gum?"

Rowan sucked in a deep breath, resting her hands against Harry's chest. "Yeah, I'm okay, and I...I may have accidentally swallowed it."

Harry chuckled when he saw how embarrassed she was to admit that, and nodded at her before catching sight of the large arm chair against the back wall in the room. He smirked to himself as he began to walk them in that direction, giving Rowan time to recuperate, but she still looked at him with confusion.

"I got you pretty drunk off my tongue, that's for sure," he commented, dropping her to her feet.

Harry was quick in turning her around, and Rowan gasped out in surprise before he forced her down over the chair. Her torso hung over the bottom cushion, hands gripping to one of the arm rests while her hips were pressed against the other.

"But I wanna see how drunk I can get you off of my cock, hm?"

Rowan's eyes shut and she moaned just at his words. A few minutes ago, she would've been ashamed having that reaction to something so simple, but she didn't care at this point. All she wanted was him inside her. She needed it.

Harry quickly disregarded his briefs, kicking them to the side. One of his hands encompassed her hip, thumb massaging against her lower back. Licking over her bottom lip, Rowan took a peek over her shoulder, her eyes growing large as she saw Harry's thick and leaking prick, his other hand stroking himself a bit.

"Do you have a condom?" He asked, puffing out some air that he had gathered in his cheeks.

Rowan flushed an even deeper red as she shook her head. "N-no, I don't usually bring men back to my place for this kind of thing. I'm paranoid...I don't like them knowing where I live."

Harry groaned, his eyes slipping shut as he gave himself a squeeze to try and relieve more of the ache he felt in his shaft. "Are you on birth control? Are you clean?"

"Yes - to both. I just got tested last week, but I always use protection during hookups. I get tested just for peace of mind."

"Well, I'm clean too, just got tested a few days ago, and same for me. If we do this, this is the first time I'm going without a condom in years," he grunted out, stilling his hand as he felt like he could bust just talking about being raw inside of her.

"I'm okay with it if you are."

Their eyes held each other for a moment before they each gave a small nod.

"Face forward, Ro," Harry instructed, and Rowan listened, clutching to the chair as she stared at the wall ahead.

Harry dragged his tip through her slick slit a few times, biting down on his bottom when he could feel just how wet she was from her previous orgasm and from his mouth. He popped inside her, feeling her clench around the thickest part of him, and he moaned, head rolling back on his shoulders.

"Tight fucking cunt," he muttered under his breath as Rowan mewled, going to pull away from him when she felt the burning stretch happening.

Harry quickly brought his hand down to spank against one of her ass cheeks, watching it jiggle before he gripped to her hips. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You wanted it. You're going to fucking take it."

Not giving her any more time to adjust, Harry used the leverage he had from her hips, and pulled her down while thrusting his hips forward - filling her up entirely in one go.

Rowan gasped out, legs trembling as she pushed onto her tiptoes, her lower back arching as she buried her face into the crease of her arm. He was so big - his thickness and length filling her to the brim, and even though it was painful, she was in utter bliss.

Harry oscillated his jaw before pulling out to his tip, he eased himself back in, slower this time and her walls fluttered around him deliciously. "God damn," he groaned with a shake of his head.

His tip was snug against her g-spot, and Rowan huffed out when she felt him twitch inside her.

Pulling back once more, Harry decided that was all the adjusting he was going to let her do. He began to fuck into her at a steady and hard rhythm, the sound of their skin slapping together quickly filling the room - the music playing in the background doing nothing to drown it out.

"Oh, you like it fucking dirty and rough, huh?" Harry jousted into her ear as he lowered his chest to be flush against Rowan's back, humming to himself when he could feel her pulse around him as he stilled his movements. "I knew you weren't as clean and pristine as you tried to be. Underneath that uptight exterior, you just want to be fucked like a whore, don't you?"

Rowan couldn't find it in herself to answer him, completely fucked from his impressive cock even if they had really just started.

Although Harry was already flat against her, hips pressed firmly against her ass, he thrusted his hips forward after a few moments of not receiving an answer - causing a scream like moan to rattle in Rowan's throat. "I said, you just want to be fucked like a whore, don't you?"

"Y-yes, yes, yes," Rowan stammered out, hands gripping to the armrest, nails sinking into the cloth material. "Fuck me like a whore, please. Your whore."

Harry growled, taking her earlobe between his teeth as he drilled his hips into her ass harder - starting up a fresh rhythm. Little sounds left Rowan's throat with each thrust, her mouth hanging wide open as she became completely overcome with ecstasy.

As fun as it was, and as deep as it was taking her this way, Harry also wanted to see Rowan's face, and feel her hands on him.

He pulled out of her abruptly, causing Rowan to collapse against the chair with a whine.

"Turn around," Harry demanded, and Rowan did so with shaky legs, reaching out to grasp to his forearms to keep her up straight once she faced him.

Harry's hands found her hips once again blindly, and he patted the palm of his hand against one of them. "Jump."

Rowan moved her hands to Harry's shoulders, jumping as she was told before he walked them over to the couch. He fell back against it, and Rowan situated herself so that she was straddling him properly. Her hand moved down to wrap around him, stroking him a few times before sliding him back inside of her.

They both sighed out once she sank down completely on him, her fingertips digging into his skin. Rowan stared into Harry's eyes as she began to roll her hips with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Harry's eyes danced over her face before he cupped her cheeks in his hands.

He tilted her head back a bit, but Rowan kept up her movements and still held his eyes. Harry moved both of his thumbs to press the pads of them against her bottom lip, pulling it out of her mouth.

"Fuck it," he mumbled before leaning forward, clashing his lips against hers.

Harry had been wondering whether or not he wanted to kiss her, as he found that to be somewhat intimate, but he didn't fucking care anymore. He knew the way her pussy tasted, he also needed to fully know the way her mouth did too. He only got a little hint of it when he sucked on her tongue earlier.

Rowan moaned into his mouth as she circled her hips, grinding down against him. His hands slipped down her back before grasping her ass cheeks, the tips of her fingers clutching to the crease between them and the back of her thighs.

Their tongues tangled together in a sloppy manner, but neither of them cared. They were so caught up in the moment, so caught up in each other. They both felt everything, from the tops of their heads to the tips of their toes. This was the best sex either of them had ever had by far.

"That's it, Ro," Harry coaxed her as Rowan leaned back a bit, cupping the tops of Harry's knees as she continued to ride him.

Her eyes slipped shut, head hanging back on her shoulders while Harry moved his hands to her breasts. He kneaded them skillfully, pinching one of her nipples between his fingers. Rowan cried out, panting into the open air as her thighs began to shake again.

Harry could tell he was also nearing his own orgasm, and he brought one of his hands around to the back of her head. He ran his fingers down and through her hair before taking it into his palm. Wrapping it around his hand, he yanked her head back and Rowan gasped, beginning to slam her hips down against Harry's.

"You're so big," she moaned, earning another tug to her scalp - the sting causing her to clench around Harry's dick.

"Got you dumb off my cock, yeah? And here you were, trying to act like you didn't like what you saw from the very fucking beginning, but you did, didn't you? You just couldn't admit it to yourself."

Rowan groaned, knowing that he was right, but she didn't want to confess. Harry quickly let go of her hair, grasping her hips to still her, and she straightened herself up, looking at him with a pout on her lips.

"Answer the fucking question, and I'll let you ride me until we both come. If you don't, I'll make you sit back in that chair, tie you up once more, and make you watch me finish myself off with my own hand," he threatened, the tip of his nose pressed against hers.

Their chests were rising and falling rapidly as they stared at each other. Rowan's jaw was tight, really not wanting to come clean in the way that he was asking.

"Fuck you," she snarled through clenched teeth.

Harry smirked at her, beginning to lift her off of him, but she immediately wrapped her arms around the his neck, both hands clutching to his hair. She gripped at his curls, tugging his head back much like he had just done to her.

"Don't even think about it," she said, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth.

"Then admit it," he challenged.

She clenched around him again, even though he was halfway out, and he moaned, causing her to yank his curls once more.

"I'm not fucking kidding, Rowan, tell me. I want to hear you say it."

Knowing that her orgasm was right around the corner, Rowan let out a noise of frustration. "Fine, you're right. I thought you were attractive from the moment I laid eyes on your page, are you happy?"

Harry leaned forward, sealing their lips together as he pulled her down onto him fully once again. With his hands still on Rowan's hips, he moved his legs to part them further, and he began fucking up into her at an accelerated pace.

A tingle festered at the bottom of Rowan's spine, and she felt it starting to spread in both directions, creeping up her back to her neck, and down into her thighs.

"I'm...I'm," she stammered, barely being able to speak. "Coming. I'm coming, Harry. I'm..."

Gasping out against his mouth, Rowan reached her peak, her second orgasm of the night taking her over as she gushed around Harry's cock. Harry looked down to watch her arousal cover him, and he shoved his face into the side of her neck as he reached his own climax - continuing to thrust up into her to ride both of them out completely.

Their sweaty bodies clung to each other for a moment, Harry slouching back onto the couch, and Rowan collapsing against his chest.

His eyes blinked open, and he stared at the ceiling when he felt Rowan get up abruptly. Sitting up, he watched as she raced around her living room, picking up her clothes. "You need to go," she snapped, shaking her head as she walked down the hall.

Harry sighed, running a hand over his face as he got up as well. He gathered his own articles of clothing before heading into her guest room. After cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he changed back into the clothes he had arrived in, shoving his leather suit and boots into his duffel bag. He walked towards the front door, pulling his card out of his pocket, grabbing a pen from the drawer of the table that was against her foyer wall.

He quickly scribbled on it before heading into the kitchen to see Rowan clutching to the counter, gulping down a fresh glass of wine.

"No one can know about this. Do you understand, Harry?" She asked, not making eye contact with him.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, "No fucking shit, Rowan, I could lose my job. You technically paid me for this, and I slept with you, that's not what my agency does. If it gets back to Steven, I'll be fired."

After a moment, Rowan's eyes met his as she licked over her bottom lip. "Okay then, so we both know to shut up about this."

Harry walked forward, tossing his business card on the counter. "Next time, just call me directly," he told her, and when he saw her mouth open to respond, he quickly held his hand up. "Don't try and fucking argue with me. You and I both know you won't be able to stay away. I know I won't."

Rowan watched as Harry turned around and walked out of her front door. She picked the card up off the counter, seeing it was for the agency. Her eyebrows narrowed, but she quickly flipped it over to eye another number written on the back, and she came to the conclusion he had given her his cell number.

And she knew he was right. There was no way she was going to be able to stay away now that she had had him.

(You can find part two here)

#harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #oneshot #harry styles one shot #one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles smutty one shot #one-shot #harry styles ff

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winchester-girl67 · 1 year

Text

Cravings

Summary: The reader gets some intense pregnancy cravings when she smells the alpha next door cooking. She grabs a plate and knocks on his front door.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x pregnant!reader

Square: Baker au @spnchristmasbingo Love at first smell @spnaubingo

Word Count: 3,777

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, pregnant reader (Dean is not the father), unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, mentioned/implied one night stand, mature themes, language, pining, a little angst, mostly fluff

A/N: Inspired by a post on pinterest. First attempt at writing an A/B/O fic. Also written for @spnchristmasbingo and @spnaubingo. Enjoy!

_____

The best thing about this pregnancy was no heats. Your cycle took a snooze and although you still craved the touch of an alpha at times, it was something you could handle yourself. And you did handle it yourself since you wanted nothing to do with the alpha that did this to you.

He was a means to ease your heat that one time, but he was all kinds of selfish and everyday you thanked your lucky stars he didn't claim you that night. Although, if he knew you were four months along that might change things. Simply because alphas are territorial and not because he actually loved you.

You were a hopeless romantic. Emphasis on hopeless, every alpha you met was the same. Controlling, arrogant and conceited. And because of that, there was no way you were going to let just any alpha claim you. No matter what.

You always wanted to be a mom and you didn't need an alpha like that. One pup was enough. You would raise this pup right and if they presented as alpha when the time came, they would be different.

It was near the end of November and it was cold outside but the pregnancy had you running hot, so you had the window cracked open as you watched your favourite holiday cooking show on Netflix. Just the sight of the food on the screen made your stomach rumble.

Pregnancy cravings are a bitch.

One minute it was sweet like chocolate and the next it was savoury like meat pie with gravy and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce...

You raised your nose towards the open window in your living room and sniffed. Inhaling a deep intoxicating breath that went straight to your stomach and you felt your pup flutter happily.

Your neighbour was cooking something delicious and the pup wants what the pup wants. There was no use denying it, you'd be craving that smell all night if you didn't go over there.

You grabbed a chunky brown sweater from your room and tugged it on. Then padded over to your kitchen cupboard and grabbed a plate before you headed out the door in your slip-on boots.

This is ridiculous, you thought as you stood on your neighbour's porch.

You knew very well the guy next door was an alpha, you could smell him during his ruts and it was always the most intense musky scent. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was distracting and your heat usually hit around the same time. Still, you hadn't ever talked to him. He kind of intimidated you like any single alpha would to an unclaimed omega. So you kept your distance.

Until now.

You lifted your fist to knock.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

In the minute it took him to answer the door you didn't think twice about it. You only thought about that smell and you had to swallow to keep from drooling.

"Hi," you greeted, when your neighbour opened the door and you continued before he could get a word in, "My name's Y/N Y/L/N, I live next door and I was hoping I could have some of whatever it is you're cooking. I know this is really strange and kind of intrusive but the smell is making my mouth water and I just had to ask."

You held out your plate and pouted your bottom lip with big Y/E/C eyes looking up at him. He was taller than you thought, bigger shoulders too. And those green eyes of his stared back at you.

"It doesn't have to be much, just a little. Please?"

But then he smiled, "Of course. Come on in, neighbour."

He stood aside and held open the door. You only hesitated a moment before you stepped inside and let him shut and lock the door behind you.

"This way," he waved for you to follow him and headed down the hall.

You left your boots at the front door and padded after him with your plate in your hands. You stood at the entrance of the kitchen and inhaled with a big smile you didn't know you were wearing. Until you heard a chuckle from your neighbour.

"Here, let me take that." He said and you let him take the plate from your hands. You never felt this comfortable around an alpha before even when you were intimate with one. "Y/N. Aren't you going to ask my name?"

Oh right. "What's your name?"

"Dean," he smiled and set your plate on the counter. "Winchester."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Winchester. I really appreciate this."

He hummed and nodded, "No problem. And call me, Dean."

You swallowed again when he pulled the meat pie from the oven and dished out a couple of slices along with a scoop of mashed potatoes and a dollop of cranberry sauce.

Damn, pregnancy nose was spot on!

"I do have one condition, Y/N." He paused and looked up at your curious face. You started to get a little nervous this time. "I don't like eating alone, would you mind?" He asked as he placed your plate on the kitchen table across from his.

You froze and didn't answer. You just stared at him. Then Dean sighed and picked your plate back up. He slowly walked it over to you, still standing in the entrance, and handed it over.

"Thank you," you said and padded back towards the front door.

Dean exhaled loudly when you reached the entrance, still sulking in the kitchen and not bothering to see you out. You felt a shift and sniffed the air. The alpha smelt salty... lonely. Not dangerous. You paused at the door and looked down at your plate, then back over your shoulder at the entrance to the kitchen.

"It'll probably get cold on the walk home." You stated, walking back into the kitchen and sitting across from Dean at the table. You gave him a soft smile.

You didn't know why but you didn't feel threatened around Dean, despite the alpha within. You stabbed into the slice of meat pie with your fork and hummed around a bite. Savoury and buttery and flakey. It was perfect.

You started purring and Dean's scent changed again. He was happy. Really happy. You stopped eating and met his smirk.

"Is it that good?" He asked and you couldn't help purring a little louder as you nodded. "I'm glad."

Purring wasn't something you did often. Only when you were extremely content and you couldn't stop it even when it became embarrassingly loud. Dean didn't seem to mind though, he actually looked kind of flattered.

"Can I have some water?" You asked between purrs.

"I can do better, how about some wine? I have red," he offered and raised his eyebrows in question as he stood from his seat.

You couldn't drink but you didn't want to tell him why. It was still early to be telling people.

"Water's fine."

"Okay. Can you get me two glasses from the cupboard and I'll grab the Brita from the fridge." He asked as he pointed to the cupboard behind you.

"Sure." You purred.

You had to stretch a little to grab the glasses off the shelf, one in each hand, and your chunky sweater rode up a little when you did.

"Are these ones okay?"

Dean growled and snapped behind you. You started and spun around to see him baring his teeth and staring at your stomach. You stopped purring instantly and dropped the glasses to tug your sweater back down. You were just starting to show.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Dean shook his head and raised his hands. "I'm so sorry. I didn't-"

"Maybe I should go..."

"No."

"This is on me, Dean. This wasn't a good idea. I never should've barged in here. I'm gonna go." You said, holding a protective arm over your bump and stepping over the broken glass on the floor.

"You don't have to." Dean pleaded and took a step closer.

"I think I need to, thank you for everything."

"Omega. Sit." He ordered and took a deep calming breath. You hesitated at your title and sniffed the air, smelling his fear fade away. "I didn't mean it, okay? I'm just getting a lot of new scents from you, it's confusing as hell but I wouldn't ever hurt you. You can take my word on that." He glanced at the hand you kept on your lower stomach and added, "I won't harm your pup either, Y/N."

"New scents?" You asked.

That implied he scented you before the pregnancy but this was the first time you've ever interacted with him. So how could that be?

"You can smell me when I go into rut, right?" You nodded. "I can smell you when your heat kicks in." He exhaled and rubbed the scruff on his chin, "It's intense. Sometimes it feels like you're in the room with me, sometimes I wish you were... but most of the time, I have to keep myself from going over there. I don't like it when you need me and I can't do a damn thing about it."

Alphas naturally run a few degrees hotter so it wasn't a surprise to see the window in his kitchen open. And your houses were fairly close together, so it wasn't entirely impossible to scent each other during your cycles when your pheromone levels were at their highest. But because it wasn't a direct scent it made sense that a slight change in yours, like a pregnancy, could throw him off.

“You leave your windows open a lot, which I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. You know you shouldn’t do that, right? I mean anyone could just break in, especially when you smell as good as you do." He explained, probably a little more than he wanted by the way he cringed at himself. "I just want you and your pup to be safe."

You spent a long minute just watching him and sniffing the air. Still, he didn't strike you as a threat. He looked at you the way no other alphas did and he kept including your pup so you knew he cared about the both of you.

"I don't think anyone's stupid enough to try something when an alpha lives next door." You pointed out.

Alphas were primal creatures. It didn't matter if he claimed you or not. If he smelt a scared omega in his territory -next door, he would have the instinct to protect you or at least rip the throat out of whoever was threatening you.

"What about the alpha?" He asked.

"He keeps to himself."

"And what if he can't do that anymore?" He slowly slid into his seat at the table and rested his head in his hand as he looked up at you.

He looked defeated. Like he was tired of denying the connection he felt to you. You weren't sure what you felt. You didn't know what to say and you started to get nervous that he may want to claim you. Right here, right now.

"Then I guess it depends on what he does next." You answered, still standing and shifting your weight from foot to foot under his gaze. "I've had enough asshole alphas in my life, Dean."

"I won't force anything on you, Omega. I just want to be near you." He promised as if he read your mind.

"Don't call me 'Omega'. We don't know each other that well and I don't like it." You hardened your face and he nodded like he understood.

'Omega' was something you reserved for your mate. Future mate, someone you trusted completely. It made you feel primal urges when you heard it and you had been fighting the urge to sit down with him since he told you to.

"Please, stay." He whispered and stared at his plate.

Dean's scent was turning salty again and you soured your nose. You hated that scent on him and you would do anything to make it go away. You ignored the glass on the floor and slid back into your seat at the table across from him.

"Why does your house always smell so amazing?" You asked, poking at your food with your fork. You teased, "Are you like always baking or something?"

This hadn't been the first time you smelt something so delectable that you wanted to demand a piece of the pie, so to speak. You had to stop yourself many times and wound up stuffing your face with Oreos or bread instead. But the pregnancy made those cravings a hundred times worse, so there was no stopping you when they struck today.

"I own a bakery, so yeah," Dean smiled and followed your lead when you started to eat again. "I'm usually trying new recipes or whipping up a snack for fun."

"Wait, so you bake all day and then come home and bake some more?" You smiled and the alpha in Dean blushed as he nodded with a chuckle. "Well, if you ever need a taste-tester, you know where to find me. I'm always hungry these days."

You rubbed your slightly swollen stomach and took a bite of mashed potatoes. Creamy and cheesy and you shut your eyes for a moment as you savoured the taste in your mouth.

"I'm guessing there's not an alpha in the picture?" Dean alluded as he stirred his potatoes and licked his fork. "I should've asked earlier but I didn't know," he glanced down as if he could see your bump underneath the tabletop.

"There's not," you stated dryly and mixed the cranberry sauce into your mashed potatoes. Salty and sweet, a perfect combination.

"Must be an idiot," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

"Not to claim you the second you took his knot." He explained and added a 'Sorry' when he smelt your unease.

You ate the rest of your meal in a silence that wasn't entirely uncomfortable, exchanging glances with Dean between bites. He smiled at you a bunch more times and when the meal was over he sent you home with half the leftovers.

The next few weeks felt more and more as if he was courting you. Twice a week he'd leave gifts on your doorstep; pies, bread baskets, mini muffins, donuts, gingerbread men, sugar cookies. Some stuff he made at the bakery and some were new recipes he tested in his kitchen during restless weeknights. Then on the weekends you'd join him for a meal, usually dinner and usually at his place since his oven was fully operational. There was an element burnt out on yours and he offered to fix it but you weren't ready to let him into your home; not yet.

You were so grateful for the alpha next door. Sure, because he fed you delicious treats, but mainly because he treated you and your pup with respect. He was everything you wanted your pup to be and more.

He even accompanied you to doctors appointments and bought the pup a Led Zeppelin onesie. He was acting like a mate without all the scary alpha undertones. He did things because he cared and he wanted you both healthy and happy.

You had almost given up hope that an alpha like him existed. And this whole time he was right next door.

You wanted to show Dean just how much you appreciated him, so you invited him over for Christmas Eve dinner; since you were both busy with family on the day of. You planned to cook him a big meal and give him a break, but he showed up a couple hours early to switch out your broken element for a new one. And after that you couldn't kick him out of the kitchen if you tried, so you relented and let him help.

"Do you wanna see the pup's room?" You asked after dinner.

You were too full for dessert, though you were positive you could go back for it in about an hour when your stomach made room. Dean started the dish washer and turned around to face you. You hadn't taken him on a tour of the house yet and he seemed content at the idea.

He tried to hide the smirk on his lips, "Are you sure you're alright with that, Om- Y/N?" He was trying to be respectful of your space.

"Mhm." You purred and grabbed his hand.

You tugged him along with you, up the stairs and into the first room on the left. The pup's room. You hadn't painted it yet and you weren't sure if you were going to, it didn't need it, but you did decorate the walls with posters of cartoon animals. There was a crib on the far end, and a bookshelf filled with children's books and plushie toys, and a La-Z-Boy recliner in the corner next to it.

"I already had a lot of this stuff. Except for the crib, that's new, and I've been collecting books since I found out. I still need a changing table and a dresser and maybe a few other things that I'm probably forgetting." You said and bit your lip as Dean scanned the room.

"This is awesome, I especially like the sleeping sloth poster 'Dream Big'." He chuckled, but walked over to the recliner when he spotted something. He picked up the large stuffed grey wolf that sat in it. Then smiled as he held it up to you, "You kept it!"

Dean won the stuffed animal at the carnival he brought you to last weekend by throwing baseballs at tin bottles. He wanted you to have it for your pup and he was really excited to see that it was in the room now. He really was the sweetest man alive.

"Are you kidding me?! Of course I did!" You said and walked up to him to plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek.

It was the first time either of you did anything intimate like that. Dean's neck flushed at the contact and the red crept up into his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He cleared his throat nervously and set the stuffed wolf back in the recliner. His natural musky scent got a little stronger and you could feel his body heat radiating off of him.

"The pup's gonna love this, Y/N. I can help you get the rest of the stuff, whatever you want." He said and kissed your forehead sweetly.

There was no need to rush, you were only five months along and already better prepared than you ever were. "We have lots of time, Alpha."

You didn't mean to say it, 'Alpha'. It just slipped out but once you said it you couldn't take it back. It felt right. Dean was your mate and by the looks of it, he knew that well before you did. He was just trying to ease you into it.

"Omega," Dean growled, "Don't tease me."

"Do you want to see the master bedroom?" You asked and tilted your head to the side as you looked up at him. You already thought of your house as being his home too, "Our room."

You didn't go into heat since you were already pregnant and that just didn't happen with pregnant omegas, but you felt that flutter in your chest that told you he was the right one. The alpha you wanted to claim and have claim you back. You wanted to be his and he as sure as the moon was high in the sky, wanted to be yours.

You had no doubts that he would treat your pup as his own, he never acted otherwise and always wanted to be by your side. Feeding you treats that were 'Good for the pup'. You had a feeling that if you let him, he would get a whole lot more clingy and protective too. But you wanted a doting alpha and you welcomed it when he lifted you in his arms.

Dean pressed his nose to the crook of your neck where your mating gland was and inhaled, long and deep. He was scenting you for real this time and you scented him back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He growled happily when your bump pressed to his tummy and you could smell his rut coming on strong. His skin was dewy and hot and you liked the warmth under your palms as you held onto the back of his neck.

Then he walked you out of the pup's room in search of yours.

"Which way, Omega?" He asked when he got you out into the hall.

"Last door on the right," you said, nibbling on his neck where you knew an alpha to be the most sensitive.

Dean gently dropped you on the king-sized bed and you crawled into the nest of blankets and pillows. He watched as you moved a few things and made enough room for him to crawl in after you.

"Come, Alpha. It's okay." You patted the open spot beside you in bed, but Dean hesitated.

"Fuck, this is the worst timing," he muttered to himself and you saw him visibly shudder. "I can feel my rut coming on fast, Y/N, I don't wanna hurt you or the pup. I should -I should go." He swallowed thickly and glanced at the door like he was trying to convince his feet to move.

An alpha would normally still go into ruts if his omega was pregnant, so it was natural and you knew he wouldn't hurt either of you. Even when things turned carnal and you knew he wouldn't claim you unless it was safe for the pup; that's just who Dean was. He was an alpha hardwired to protect and care for those he loved, not inflict pain or hardship to satisfy his own needs. He was different, he was a real mate, and you wouldn't leave him on his own when he needed you most.

"Alpha. Bed. Now."

Dean laughed and wiped the sweat from his forehead and upper lip. It wasn't common for an omega to order an alpha around but he listened to you and crawled into the nest beside you.

"Comfy?" You asked when he curled around your body and pressed his cheek to your bump. He shivered and placed a palm over your stomach. "I trust you, Dean. You won't hurt us, Alpha."

He didn't respond, instead he pressed his nose to your bump and scented the pup for the first time. Deep breath in, deep breath out and he stopped shaking. And started purring.

_________________________

Read part 2 here

_________________________ Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27

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mountttmase · 9 months

Text

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Five

Note - so I think this is my favourite chapter so I really hope you love this one 😌🩷 feedback would be very much appreciated

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5.1k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

As much as you loved being with Mason, you also loved your own space. Only Freya had ever really spent a significant amount of time in your flat and you mostly hung out at Masons house as it was bigger so you could keep your four walls as your own safe haven. How ever lately you were beginning to wonder what it might be like to have him in your space just like you were in his.

How nice it would be to see his toothbrush next to yours, his shower gel propped up on the side and his favourite mug in your cabinet so you could make him his coffee just as he liked it in the morning.

You’d had a long day at work, endless calls and meetings to the point where it had felt liked you’d barely done anything at all but you’d managed to blag yourself a day off tomorrow and the thought of waking up without an alarm made you happier than you ever thought possible.

You’d just sat down when you felt your phone start to ring, looking down to see a picture of Mason lighting up your screen and you felt your chest flutter at the sight of his goofy smile.

‘Hey, Mase. What’s up?’

‘Hello love. I’m just leaving training and I thought I’d check in. You alright?’

‘I’m okay, I just got in. You up to much tonight?’

‘Nah I was just about to head to the shop and get some snacks. I fancy some cookies but someone won’t make me them’ he teased and you couldn’t help but smile.

‘Well maybe if you ask nicely I might make you some now. I think I have everything’ you told him, your eyes flicking through your cupboards as you made your way into your kitchen. ‘I think I just need chocolate chips’

‘Well I still need to pop to the shop anyway so I can get those and bring them round if you want?’ he told you and you felt a little excitement roll through you at the thought of seeing him today as you didn’t have plans to see him until the weekend.

‘Oh, yeah okay then’ you smiled, thoughts of you and Mason making cookies and being all domestic making you blush and your brain was speaking for you before you could stop yourself. ‘Hey Mase? When you get here do you um… do you maybe wanna hang out for a bit? Maybe we can make them together? Only if you have time’

‘I’ve always got time for you’ he laughed ‘but yeah, if you’re sure?’

‘Yeah of course’

‘Okay cool. What about dinner? You eaten yet?’ He questioned and you could tell he was trying to play it cool about spending time together. You usually liked some notice and for things to be planned so the fact that this was so off the cuff was strange for the both of you.

‘No not yet, I’ve only just got back so I haven’t even thought about dinner yet’

‘I could grab us something while I’m there, how does pizza sound?’

‘Sounds perfect, thank you Mase’

‘I won’t be long, give me 20 minutes or so’ he told you and after a quick goodbye he was off.

You used the time before he got there to quickly get changed into something comfy and have a quick tidy up before getting out all the ingredients you needed and start to weigh them out. You were almost done when a knock on your door snapped you out of your trance.

‘Hey’ you smiled, opening your door to a red nosed and fluffy haired Mason.

‘Hey gorgeous’ he smiled, giving you a quick peck as he passed by. ‘You good?’

‘Yeah, thanks for all this’

‘That’s okay. Where do you want it all?’

‘Kitchens fine’ you told him, leading the way so you could unpack it together and get the pizza in the oven as you were both hungry.

‘You started without me?’ He questioned, head nudging over to some of the ingredients you’d already weighed out before he sent you a wink. ‘Shall we get going? What have I got to do?’

‘Well I was hoping I could get a proper kiss first’ you teased, suddenly becoming a little shy as you played with your fingers and he rolled his eyes at you with a smile before pulling you closer by your hips.

‘Needy girl’ he whispered before ducking his head to kiss you gently. You deepened it instantly, wanting to properly feel him after a few days without his touch and you let him back you against the wall behind you so he could trap you. You knew you loved kissing Mason, but right here right now made you realise how much you really loved kissing him. His body pressed firmly to yours as you gripped onto him for dear life, knowing you needed to take a breath soon but you couldn’t bare to part from him for even a second as he dipped his tongue into your mouth so he could lazily brush it against yours. He broke away eventually, lips pouty and eyes wide as he placed a few kisses across your cheeks before one final peck on your lips. ‘That better?’

You couldn’t speak, just nodding your head shyly as he slowly removed himself out of your grasp and made he way back into the kitchen.

‘So you gonna show me or what?’ He laughed, sending you a wink as you shook yourself out of the little daze he put you in before going to stand with him.

‘I’ve weighed it all out so you just need to put in what I tell you to’

‘Okay let me get ready’ he laughed, quickly whipping his hoodie off and you subconsciously bit your lip at the sight of his abs that we’re on show for a few seconds as his top got stuck to his hoodie. ‘Oi, eyes up here’ he laughed, tilting your chin up so you could look at him before he quickly kissed your nose. ‘You got an apron for me or anything?’

‘No sorry’

‘Should I take this off too then?’ He teased, gripping the neck of his plain white T-shirt and you shook your head whilst pulling it back down.

‘No way, or we really won’t get anything done. Just be careful and if you get dirty I’ll just wash it for you’ you told him before passing him the first few ingredients that he added to the bowl gently. ‘Now I need you to use those big arms and beat them together until it’s all fluffy’

‘Just sit back and be amazed’ he laughed, eyebrows raising before mixing everything together with a wooden spoon and you sat and watched with a gentle smile on your face as he pretended it was a hard workout for him. Once it looked good you told him what else to add and it wasn’t long before he had his dough together on the work surface.

‘Right, roll it up into a tube so I can put it in the fridge’

‘Now I’m no expert, but I thought these have to go in the oven?’ He asked, raising his eyebrow adorably and you couldn’t help but laugh at his confusion.

‘Eventually yes. But I like to let them set up in the fridge for a bit first. Gives us time to eat the pizza too’ you told him, pinching his bum as you walked passed him and sending him a cheeky wink as he looked at you in shock.

You were just checking the pizza through the window in the oven when you felt him brush up behind you, his hands snaking around your body until they made contact with your chest. You were shocked to say the least but after a quick squeeze he removed them to reveal his floury hand prints in your black T-shirt.

‘Mason’ you laughed, turning to face him but the the subtle bite of his lip let you know he was feeling as cheeky as you were. ‘What was that for?’

‘Just felt like it’ he winked, hands now gripping your bum to leave the same prints there and you pinched his sides playfully.

‘Stop that, you’re getting flour everywhere. Go find us something to watch, I’ll bring the pizza in’

‘I’ll take the drinks in’ he murmured, kissing your nose before going over to the fridge and you only just noticed he’d picked up a bottle of your favourite which made you smile as you took the pizza out of the oven.

Mason turned the tv on to some random channel, re runs of how I met your mother playing in the background as you sat next to him, your legs dangling over his lap as you rested yourself against him and you felt him relax into the cushions.

‘Can I tell you something that might sound a bit weird?’ He asked after a little while and you couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable he looked. ‘I know I haven’t spent a lot of time here, like this is basically my first time here really, but I feel strangely at home? Like sometimes my house feels a bit big for just me? But here it’s cozy and it’s like I can forget who I am and just be normal for a bit. Like I haven’t thought about football once since I’ve been here. I like being with you and feeling like I’m part of your world. Does that make sense?’

You felt your eyes prick as he quietly explained, knowing exactly what he meant as it felt like he’d clicked into your life and your space so seamlessly and you felt like home around him too. You quickly cupped his jaw, stroking his cheek before kissing him softly.

‘I feel the same’ you whispered. ‘Frey is the only person that’s ever really been here and I was a bit nervous about having you round after I’d asked but now you’re here I don’t want you to go’

‘I don’t want to either’ he chuckled lightly, pulling you to him so he could scatter your face with tiny kisses.

‘What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘Got training at like three I think, but nothing in the morning’

‘Will you stay then? I’ve not got work tomorrow and I promise I’ll make you breakfast’ you winked and you watched him blush at your proposal.

‘I guess I could. I’ve got my wash bag and some spare clothes in the car from training’

‘Would it be weird if I told you I got you some stuff in my food shop the other week?’ You laughed, covering your face out of embarrassment but he just held you tighter.

‘Like what?’ He teased, his lips in your hair as he couldn’t get to your face but you were still not able to tell him on the off chance he might think you’re a bit weird. ‘Come on, tell me. Or I’ll have to go have a look myself’ he laughed and as soon as he started to shuffle like he was about to get up you made sure he stayed down.

‘Fine. It’s nothing really I just got some of that shower gel you like and some deodorant but that was mainly because it had your face on it and I’m trying to bump your sales up’ you told him, referring to his Sure deal. ‘Oh and I got you a toothbrush’

‘You didn’t need to do all that’

‘I know but that first night I stayed at yours, you had everything I needed and I’m so used to being on my own I thought I better get some just in case you ever did want to stay’

‘Well thank you’ he whispered, bringing you in for a soft kiss that made your heart flutter. ‘I hate to ruin the mood but can we make the cookies now’

‘Come on then, you big baby’ you laughed, getting up and leading him back into the kitchen. ‘Now cause it’s in a roll we can can just cut them up. I’ll get the tray for you to put them on’ you told him, your hands trailing across his body as you walked passed and you felt him stiffen slightly at the contact, clearly not used to you being so touchy with him but there was something about him being in your space that meant you didn’t want to take your hands off of him.

‘How thick do I need to make them?’ He asked as you brushed up beside him before you ducked under his arm that was resting on the work surface so you could stand in front of him and cut one first to show him.

‘You’re being very cheeky’ he laughed, his hands finding your hips as he placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck before crossing his arms over your body so he could pull you into him.

‘Is that a problem?’ You giggled, shivering at the feel of his beard against your skin before he playfully nipped your ear.

‘Of course not’

‘Good, now cut the cookies’ you told him, turning in his arms to quickly peck his lips before leaving him to get on with it. Once all of his cookies were placed on the tray you popped them in the oven and started the timer on your phone.

‘How long do they take?’

‘About 12 minutes?’ You told him, walking over so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders. ‘You know, there’s a lot we could do in 12 minutes’

‘Oh is there?’ He laughed. ‘Like what?’

You smiled seductively at him, kissing along his jaw until your lips reached his ear so you could whisper to him.

‘The washing up’

He didn’t say anything, just pulled back so he could look at you, your favourite smile on his face as he stared down at you lovingly whilst shaking his head ever so slightly. You could feel yourself melting under his gaze, heart racing as he looked at you the way his was.

‘Better find me some gloves then’ he joked, squeezing your sides before you both quickly washed up and got everything away just in time for the timer to go off. You quickly set up the cooling rack to place them all on but you had to swat Masons hands away when he tried to take one causing him to pout at you adorably. ‘Hey, I want one’

‘If you wanna burn your mouth then be my guest. Just give them five minutes and they’ll be cool enough’

‘I wonder what we can do for five minutes’ he teased, pulling you to him before sitting you up on the counter. His hands were on your thighs as he stepped between them, yours reaching up to grab his shoulders as his lips found your neck and you moaned louder than you’d intended to as he sucked on your sweet spot.

‘Mase’ you breathed, tugging on his hair so he would look at you and you watched the way eyes darkened at the feel of it. ‘Kiss me’

He didn’t need telling twice, kissing you forcefully and pulling you even further against him. You couldn’t stop smiling as your hands were all over each other, hungry for the taste of each other and the feel of each others skin and you nearly lost it when he groaned into your mouth as you bit his lip, pulling away from you breathless.

‘I think we better stop before I get carried away’ he laughed, kissing your nose and tucking your hair behind your ear gently. You nodded in agreement, kissing his nose in return before reaching to the side of you to grab you both a cookie. His eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he took his first bite. ‘Fuck I love these’

‘Well you can make them yourself now you know how’

‘Nah I think I’ll still get you to make them’ he winked and you shook your head playfully. ‘It’s getting late, shall we start getting ready for bed?’ He asked quietly, and you nodded before he helped you get down. ‘I’m just gonna run down to my car and get my stuff’ he winked and in a few minutes he was back and you were leading him into the bathroom.

‘You can have the first shower, I’ve put your stuff in this draw’ you told him, opening the second drawer down in your cabinet to show him everything and your heart fluttered at his wide smile.

‘You are the cutest thing’ he laughed, cupping your jaw and kissing you gently. ‘Come shower with me’

You felt your whole body tingle at his words, the pair of you had never done this before and you were a tiny bit nervous but you agreed straight away. You’d barely been able to keep your hands off each other all night and the thought of getting to touch him properly made you knees weak.

‘Okay’ you whispered, letting him undress you before you jumped into the shower to get the water running. It wasn’t long before he joined you, and as much as you wanted to rake your eyes over his body, you kept them on his face. His eyes burning right back into yours before he quickly placed his shower gel on the rack next to yours and you couldn’t help but smile brightly at him.

‘C’mere’ he told you quietly, reaching out grab you by your waist and pull you into him so he could kiss you and your hands automatically reached up into his wet hair. He kept the kiss short, pulling back so he could grab his shower gel and pop some in your hands before putting yours in his so you could wash each other. The feeling of his abs rippling under your fingers made you clench your thighs together and you had to hold yourself back from kissing him or touching him anywhere inappropriate. You didn’t need to look directly at him to tell he was hard but you sat back and watched him rinse himself before he tugged you under with him.

His hands were all over you, brushing all the suds off to help rinse you but when he pushed you back against the wall and got down on his knees so he could reach a bit lower you didn’t stop him. Biting your lip as you carefully watched him spread your legs apart by your thighs a little bit before flattening his tongue right where you needed him.

You gasped at the contact, you hands finding his hair immediately as he licked away at you but it was only short lived. As soon as he knew you were getting into it he removed himself from you and stood up. Turning the shower off with a wink before making his way out.

You stood there in shock for a good few minutes, anger boiling inside of you but you knew you’d be able to get what you wanted, you just needed to be a bit firmer with him and show him who’s boss. Quickly drying yourself, you made you way out to find him. You didn’t bother getting dressed, just wrapped the towel around you before eventually finding him in your room, sat on the end of your bed in just his boxers whilst he was texting away on his phone but he placed it down as soon as you stood in front of him. Smiling up at you cheekily as he knew he was in for it.

‘Now Mason, that wasn’t very kind of you was it?’ You asked as he shook his head at you. A bright smile on his face that he tried to suppress by biting his lip but the blush that covered his cheeks and nose was giving him away. ‘You forget, we’re in my house right now so it’s my rules’ you told him seductively and he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath as you dropped your towel to the floor so he could look over your naked body. ‘Lay down for me’

‘W-what?’

‘Did i stutter? Lay down’ you repeated, pushing on his shoulder lightly until his back was flush against the sheets with his legs off the edge. You quickly climbed up his body and placed your knees either side of his waist so you could hover over him, your hair hanging down and almost creating a protective bubble for the two of you as you propped yourself up on your elbows. ‘Now, im gonna take a seat on that pretty face of yours and you’re gonna finish what you started, deal?’

‘Okay’ he breathed, his eyes wide as he followed your every movement.

‘Good. And if you don’t make me cum then you don’t get to cum after’

‘But-‘

‘No buts Mason’ you whispered against his jaw before you kissed it. ‘Be good for me, I know you can do it’

You didn’t give him time to respond, crawling up his body so you could hover over his face but by the way he was helping position you and the way he sat you on his mouth, you knew he was loving every second. In the past when you’d had casual flings or one night stands you were never one to be shy in the bedroom. You were never seeing these boys again and you knew what you wanted so you were more than happy to take a little bit of control. It hadn’t really been that way with Mason though, trapped under his spell from the word go and each time you’d been physical lately he’d had you exactly how he wanted you.

Something about being in your house with him though made your inner monster come out but from the way he was reacting he seemed to be in his element. You wondered to yourself why you didn’t try it sooner as he was a sucker for praise in general so this seemed like a natural carry on from that and you figured this might have to be a new thing with him to try with him more often.

‘That’s it, Mase’ you breathed, linking your fingers through his so he wasn’t tempted to touch himself. ‘Keep going, that feels so fucking good’ you told him, grinding down on him even more as he squeezed your fingers and moaned into you.

You’d been in this position many times before now, him seeming to want to have his face in between your thighs every chance he got so he knew how to get you where you needed to be pretty easily and now with the threat of not being able to cum unless you did, he was working extra hard to get you there.

‘Fuck, I-I’m close’ you breathed, unable to get another word out as your whole body tingled and your high coursed through you. You couldn’t help but laugh as he road you through it, eventually placing your hands on the bed in front of you and lifting your hips so he could slide out from underneath.

In the next second his hands were on your hips, dragging you back to the edge of the bed and you yelped in surprise at his forcefulness before laughing. His strength surprised you sometimes but you loved it when he pulled you around like it was nothing.

‘Good job, Masey. You ready for your reward’ you teased, shaking your bum at him and even though you couldn’t see his face you would of bet your life savings he was smiling and rolling his eyes at you.

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else, his hand was on your bum and he was thrusting himself in immediately causing you to grip the sheets and moan loudly as he didn’t give you a second to adjust. It wasn’t long before he was pulling you up by your waist so your back was flush to his chest, hands roaming your body until one was wrapped around your throat and the other was teasing your clit until your eyes were rolling back in your head.

‘How’s that, hmm? Am I still doing a good job baby?’ He breathed into your ear, his voice dripping in sarcasm as you tried to grab onto him in any way you could. He had you in a pretty strong grip and you knew you wouldn’t fall but the force he was pounding into you with was relentless and you didn’t know what to do. In the end you gripped onto one of his arms with one hand and buried your fingers in his hair with the other causing him to lean forward and start sucking your neck.

‘M-Mase, it’s too m-much’ you cried but he just shook his head into your neck.

‘No it’s not, you can take it’ he told you and even though you felt him ease up the tiniest bit it still was a lot and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. ‘You’re squeezing me so tight, I’m right with you yeah just cum for me’

It didn’t take much more, but the feeling of you letting go for the second time that night made him release just after you, moving his arms to your waist so he could keep you up while you both got your breath back before tapping you on the bum as he pulled out so you could run to the bathroom and get sorted. You didn’t have anything to change into so you quickly slipped your bathrobe on before cleaning your teeth and heading back to your room. Mason was just on his way out by the looks of things, back in just his boxers and he sent you a cheeky smile before dipping his head to kiss you lovingly.

‘I’m just gonna clean my teeth. Is it alright if I grab a water?’

‘Of course, there’s some bottles in the fridge. Can you get me one please?’

‘Sure, won’t be a sec’ he smiled and you used the time he was gone to quickly pull on some pjs and get under the covers to wait for him to come back. As soon as he did, you noticed the slight blush on his cheeks and the cheeky smile to which you raised your brow at him before he let out a chuckle. ‘Now am I seeing things or is there a picture of us on your fridge?’

You felt yourself blush immediately, knowing exactly what picture he meant. Right in between two pictures of you and Freya from various nights out was the picture you’d taken of the pair of you sat in his car as you munched your way through a McDonalds. You hid your grin and you face planted the pillows, laughing loudly as he slipped into bed besides you and reached over to place your bottle of water on your bedside table.

‘Come on, don’t get shy on me now’ he laughed whilst prying your hands away from you face and you looked up into his kind eyes knowing that everything was fine and he loved the fact you’d added him to your little collection. He dipped down to kiss you gently and you felt the butterflies erupt in your tummy as he stroked over your waist gently. ‘Can I ask you something?’ He whispered as he pulled away and you felt yourself go ridged about what he might say next.

‘Um yeah, okay’

‘Well at the end of every season we have this end of season dinner and we get to bring a date if we want. I normally go alone or with Chilly but all the other guys are bringing their girlfriends and if Chilly’s taking his then I want to take mine’ he winked and your eyes grew wide of the use of the term girlfriend. The pair of you hadn’t had the conversation about what you were even though you both basically knew but you watched his eyes go as wide as yours at the realisation of what he’d said. ‘Shit, sorry. That kind of slipped out. I’ve been referring to you as my girlfriend to people cause I didn’t know how else to say it I mean-‘

‘Mase it’s okay’ you laughed resting your hands on his shoulders and running you thumbs up and down his neck gently as if to comfort him. ‘Ive been referring to you as my boyfriend’ you told him sheepishly, your own face flushing as he smiled down at you.

‘Oh, well I guess solves that then’ he laughed before placing a loving kiss on your lips. ‘So will you come with me?’

The thought of a big fancy event with loads of people you didn’t know scared the living hell out of you but the hopefulness in his eyes softened you and you couldn’t help but nod your head and agree.

‘Is Sophia going? Maybe she can take me dress shopping’ you laughed and he smiled down at you before kissing you softly again.

‘Thank you, baby. This really means a lot to me’

‘Well, you do everything for me. It’s about time I pay that back’

‘You do a lot for me too’

‘I don’t think cookies are equal to everything you do’

‘But they’re delicious and that’s all that matters’ he laughed before you tugged him down with you, his head resting on your chest as you raked your fingers through his hair. ‘Can I tell you something before we go to sleep?’

‘Of course you can’

‘I thought it was really sexy earlier when you put me in my place and took control’

‘Oh yeah?’ You laughed, your face flushing as he ticketed your side gently and kissed your chest.

‘Mmhmm, I’ll have to be bad more often’

‘No you bloody won’t’ you laughed tapping his nose as he scrunched it up adorably.

‘Night girlfriend’ he winked

‘Night boyfriend’

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @footiehoemcfc @mm-vii

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