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#was thinking of making this into a little series
lukesaprince · 3 days
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Rich Part 21
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Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. The truth is revealed and extenuating circumstances lead to y/n spilling the beans about her and Harry.
Warning: HELLA SMUT!! Daddy!kink, oral (f receiving), dirty talk (degradation and praise ofc), spanking, spitting kink, creampie, mentions of death (specifically a child) and grieving, poor mental health.
Word count: 17k+
Author's note: I recommend reading Part 20 before this one as it's a direct continuation! Part 22 already has 7k words written so I PROMISE you won't have to wait a month to read more of my babies. Enjoy 😚😚
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“Please… Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
His mouth slotted with yours like the final puzzle piece. Smooth and effortless, melting into you while his hand moved from your neck to grab onto your hair. He was simultaneously protecting your head from the door and tugging right at the root of your pretty hair. 
The sting had you whimpering into his mouth, hands through his hair and over his chest and just everywhere while you reached up on your tippy toes to kiss back harder. You quite liked feeling smaller than him and Harry loved being bigger than you. Taller than you. Pressing his full body weight into you until all you could feel was him. 
“I don’t… I don’t have much time.” You murmured into his mouth, gasping as the kiss broke and he let his mouth skirt over your jaw. You always did have a sensitive neck. It was a sweet spot for you and Harry knew that. At this point he had memorised all your erogenous zones and the little things he did that turned you on and considered himself an expert in how to take advantage of it. 
He was always learning new things about you. Every day he found new details about you and fell deeper in love because of it. 
“You do.” His smirk curled against your jaw and focused one hand on your hair to tug your head back while the other squeezed over your waist. 
“I really don’t. My parents will see my car and wonder where I am. They’d be offended I saw you before them.” 
“I think they’d be a little more than offended if they knew what you were doing here. Wouldn’t they, darling?” 
Your gasp got caught in your throat, muffled by a moan when he bared his teeth against your neck. His mouth cushioned lower, tracing over what felt like every single inch of your bare skin. 
“Probably.” You just hummed in response, letting your eyes flutter closed while you relaxed into the feeling of his soft, wet tongue over your neck. 
“What would they say if they knew you called me Daddy, hm? Bet your mother would faint, wouldn’t she? Her darling little y/n.” Harry pulled away so you could watch the way his lips wrapped around each syllable. He pressed his hand over your throat again, keeping you pinned there as he undid the bow of your sweatpants. “Come on, baby. Tell me what she’d say.” 
You didn’t think he’d want a response to that when it sounded so rhetorical. More like a tease than something he wanted you to respond back to. 
“I don’t know. I don’t even want to-” the words got stuck in your throat when you felt his nimble fingers slide along the waistband of your sweatpants. He smirked at your reaction, scanning every inch of your face while languidly stroking your lower belly. “-to think about it. It's mortifying.” 
His eye contact was making you want to pass the fuck out and when his fingers found the band of your underwear you nearly did. You had missed this. The cat and mouse game. The teasing. Though it usually took a lot longer than the time you had. 
“It’s not mortifying when you’re doing it, though. Is it, baby?” He cocked his head, maintaining eye contact as he started to trace over your underwear down towards your clit. You shook your head quickly, grabbing onto his forearms. 
“Words.” He warned. 
“No. No it isn’t.”
“Feels quite… good. Doesn’t it?” He pressed right over your clit, rubbing purposed circles. The friction of your underwear was driving you crazy. But you wanted more and you were a little conscious of the time. 
“You know it does.”
“I know.” He smirked, leaning in to kiss your neck again. “I make you feel good. Don’t I?”
The questions were making your head spin. “Yes… yes.”
The friction suddenly disappeared from your clit, but just as you were about to make a noise of disdain, his hands were hoisting your legs up around his waist and he was carrying you through the house to his dining room. He set you down on the edge of the table, reaching in to kiss you deeply just long enough to have you gasping and tugging at his hair.
The kiss broke and his mouth trailed down your neck again. You made a pretty little whimpering sound that had Harry smirking against your skin while he worked on removing your pants properly. 
“I love when you do that…” he groaned, nimble fingers sliding along the waistband of your sweats, tucking into them and your underwear at the same time before very easily pulling them down under your ass until they fell to your ankles. The cool air hit your clit instantly, sending a chill down your spine and the tension of your legs that only increased when Harry continued to talk dirty to you. “When you whimper all pretty for me… ‘s my favourite thing in the world. Never takes long either. Could just kiss you and you’d moan for me. Isn’t that right?” 
His question hung heavy in the hair but all you could focus on was the sight of him dropping to his knees before you to help guide your feet out of the bottom half of your clothing. 
“Uhuh.” You agreed haphazardly, sweeping your hand through his hair at the first touch of his lips against your knee. He kissed down your calf until that ankle was out of your pants then switched sides to do the other, this time kissing up from your ankle to your knee to the sensitive skin of your thigh.
“Why don’t I give you something proper to moan about, hm? Would you like that, pretty girl?” Harry let his lips brush against your skin while his hands ran up and down your legs, running his thumbs over your knees like he was about to pry your legs open and dive right in.
Every touch had you breathing heavier, already getting worked up just from a few little kisses. It didn’t help that you were already on edge from his earlier teasing and knowing that things would get a little rougher than usual only made you needier.
Sex always was a bit rougher when ‘daddy’ came into play. Harry took on the role in full force and took full control of the scene. He usually spanked you more, grabbed you more, fucked you harder. Fuck… you hoped he’d spit in your mouth too, maybe smack his ringed fingers over your clit. You could ask for it of course and he’d happily oblige (with a bit of teasing and degradation to accompany your request of course), but it was so much hotter when he just did it. When he owned you and treated you like a hole to use. 
“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, tugging his hair a little harder. He smirked and nipped at your thigh, grabbing your calves to pull you forward until your legs widened to fit him between them. Grabbing your face suddenly, he squeezed your cheeks roughly until you whined in pain. 
“Where are your manners, huh? I thought I taught you better than that.” He tutted, maintaining eye contact while he spit suddenly on the fingers on his other hand before reaching between your bodies to find your clit. Harry didn’t want to stop looking at your pretty eyes for a single second. The moment he found your clit he tapped against it roughly, making your back arch at the repeated sting of his fingers. His saliva only made it hurt more and yet you found yourself loving every second of it. 
“Shit.” You cursed, clutching onto his shoulders. The sting had your toes curling, knees dug into either side of his hips in an attempt to curb the ache. “Shit.”
“If you’re a good girl, y/n, you’ll get treated nicely. Don’t you know what happens if you’re not, hm?” He smirked, pressing his palm to your clit while sliding two fingers down through your labia. You were soaked, already dripping for him to do something. Anything. He circled his fingers over your entrance, pressing just enough to make that delicious whimper echo around his kitchen before he dragged them back up to your clit. “Or has it been that long since I put your attitude in check?”
Jesus fucking Christ. 
Harry repeated the same movements, torturously dragging up and down… up and down from your clit to your entrance without doing anything remotely close to satisfying. 
“‘M sorry. I’m sorry Daddy. I got… fuck” you cursed when he nudged over your clit again. It was just a game now, a sadistic little game to see how wet he could get you without actually giving much pleasure. “Excited.”
“Excited? Or selfish?” He cocked his head, grinding his palm to your clit while squeezing your face a little harder. “Being needy doesn’t give you an excuse to be ill mannered.”
“You’re right. I’m-I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good. I promise.” The words came out as a hushed whimper of strung together desperation. Harry was loving every second of it. 
“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”
“Yes. Please, Daddy.”
“Gonna let me do anything I want?”
“Anything. Anything.”
His cock stirred at the thought of being able to do anything to you. To have complete control over you. Of course, you truly had the power in the situation, but he loved that you chose to let him take the reigns. 
“Open your mouth.”
Harry slid his hand down to your jaw to give you space to move your mouth and as soon as you did, your lips parted just wide enough for him to spit right on your tongue. The sight was obscene. Your tongue sticking out to catch his saliva, his mark, his ownership. Your eyes were all glazed and pretty and you looked happy to take whatever he gave you. You were happy. 
He just couldn’t help himself, really. Couldn’t stop himself from getting a taste of your pretty mouth. It would’ve felt wrong not. You were his girl after all. His love. Kissing you was part of the job. 
Harry was quick to dart out and clasp his lips with yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth so he could rub his saliva over your tongue with his own. It was feral. Sloppy in the best way possible. He slid his tongue against yours, spreading his spit and the new saliva from your kiss everywhere.
You loved when he kissed you sloppy. When it was way too inappropriate for outside eyes. Something just for you. While his tongue told you exactly how he felt about you, he grabbed onto your hips and pulled you forward until you slid off the table, landing on your unsteady feet. 
“Take this off, yeah? Let me see how pretty you are.” He murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to speak while tugging upwards at the end of your t shirt.
You quickly obeyed and ripped your t shirt off, letting it land on the floor without care. You didn’t bother putting a bra on when you left Lucy’s, not when you were just going home and seeing Harry quickly - or at least you thought it would be quick - so you were left bare. Now you were grateful that you decided to do that, especially from the dark-eyed reaction you gained from your bare breasts being exposed to your lover.
“Fuck baby. Got the prettiest tits ever.” Harry cursed, palming over your exposed breasts while he connected your mouths again.
Your hands found home in his hair, reciprocating happily to his enthusiastic kissing. It was such a power imbalance being completely naked while he was still fully clothed. The anxious part of you hated it and felt so… small. Exposed. The bigger part of you, the one that got off on being submissive and degraded frothed over it. There was no feeling like his fully clothed body against your fully bare one, other than skin to skin contact of course.
That was your favourite.
“Driving me fucking crazy like this.” Harry murmured again, keeping one hand on your breast while the other trailed upwards to the little pearl necklace permanently fixtured on your neck. You only took it off to shower, otherwise it never left your body. You couldn’t bare to part from it because it was a constant reminder of Harry. Like he was always with you.
And you happened to love how possessive he became when his eyes landed on the little string of pearls. How they darkened ever so slightly. When you were in public it turned into a kiss or his hand squeezing your hand or waist, like it triggered some obsessive reaction. You weren’t sure if he caught onto the fact that the necklace somehow pavloved physical touch, but you did.
Sometimes you liked to draw attention to it on purpose to tease him, not that he knew he was being teased. When you were talking you might brush your hair away from your neck or fiddle with the pearls to draw his eyes there. It was fun. A game you were winning even if he didn’t know he was participating.
“And this…” He hooked his finger into the necklace, tugging it gently while simultaneously tugging at your bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. “You’ve got no idea how sexy you look with nothing on but this.”
“I never take it off…” You sighed.
“I know. I love you more for it.” He mused, nipping on your neck. “If that’s even possible.” Your head lulled back when he ran his hands down over your body again, landing on your hips where he quickly spun you around to face the table and pressed himself against you. “Love how soft you are too…” He complimented, pressing spongey kisses along your shoulder. 
You braced yourself against the table, letting yourself be pushed down flat against it by a gentle hand on the middle of your back.
“How you feel in my hands… my mouth…”
His mouth replaced his hand, trailing down until he was crouched behind you. God the sight of you was driving him crazy. 
Running his hands over your ass, he pressed a kiss to one of your cheeks, dragging his bottom lip against your skin as he released before kissing over to your other cheek. Then he spread you wide, eliciting a gasp when he spanked you and groaned at the way your skin rippled then spread you open again. 
“My tongue…” 
And then you felt it. His hot tongue met your clit, swiping through your labia right to your tight ring of muscles where he decided to focus his attention. Harry was aware you two didn’t have all the time in the world, but he just couldn’t compromise on his favourite thing. Tasting you. 
Your flavour, your scent, how wet you got. Like silky honey dripping down his throat and coating his lips. He was obsessed with it. Which is why he let himself a few moments of flicking his tongue against your ass before he moved down to one of his favourite parts of you. That pretty little clit. 
Your moans were like music to his ears. An array of whimpers and whines, pleaded whispers of his name and his honorific. There was nothing like hearing the moan of his name, even moreso when he was being your ‘Daddy’. You were much more pliant, more responsive. He wasn’t sure if it was your submission kicking in more than usual or because your kink was being stroked the entire time. 
Either way, he was reaping the benefits. 
You were so hot and sweet and were wiggling like a fucking worm in his grip. He had to hold onto your hips harder to keep you still, but that didn’t stop your clenching and trembling when he sucked particularly hard on your clit or fucked his tongue inside you. 
So fucking responsive.
“God, you taste so fucking sweet, baby. My favourite meal in the world.” He praised, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking a little rougher than usual just so you’d cry out for him.
“Please. Please.” You begged, forehead pressed against the table.
“What?” Harry mused, sliding his tongue toward your entrance and pressing it there. You clenched on impact and he could feel it at the tip of his tongue. All he could think about now was getting inside you. God, he was so hard. So painfully hard. 
“Need you. Please, Daddy. Need your cock so bad.” You begged clearly this time, needing to be filled more than anything. 
“Yeah? Need it bad, do you?” Harry stood up, kissing your cheek on the way up before he was ridding himself of his clothing. He was already hot and worked up and he knew that the moment his cock touched you he’d be sweating all over. Besides… he wanted to feel you. He wanted to press his chest into your back and feel your thighs against his.
He craved the intimacy of skin to skin like nothing else.
“Yes. Fuck. Yes.” You sighed, nearly screaming in relief when you felt the tip of his cock bump against your clit. 
“I’ll give it to you baby…” He soothed, dragging his tip through your folds to collect your wetness over his cock. “I’ve got you…” His tip pressed against your entrance and you swore you could’ve cried when he slowly pushed in. “Shit.”
“Fuck.”
He stretched you slowly, torturously, like he wanted you to feel every inch of his cock. Every vein and ridge and the way he got slowly wider at the base. It wasn’t something you’d feel when he was fucking you roughly, but God it was all you could feel now. The stretch, the ache, the way your knees buckled when his hand pressed into your lower back to keep you still.
And then the slow, tortuous teasing ended and without any warning he drew his hips back and slammed back into you in a way that had your lungs losing all their breath. His hands were firm on your hips, fingers dug tightly so there was this constant ache that seemed to reach its way straight to your soul. 
And you fucking loved it. Every bruising thrust, every snapping sound, the way Harry moaned and cursed, telling you exactly how much he liked it. He never was shy from making sounds of pleasure and it was one of the things that made sex with him so hot. 
“You’re so tight. Shit, baby. Always so fucking tight around me.”
“Oh God. Harry!” 
“Wrong name, sweetheart.” He reprimanded with a heavy spank on your ass, the snapping sound echoing throughout the room. “Say the right one. Say it.” 
“Daddy.” You moaned pathetically, earning another spank right on the other cheek. The sting was the most satisfying sort of burn, a pain that lingered and ached but only made everything so much better. It fuelled your pleasure, contributing to the orgasm you had been waiting for twice now. 
It didn’t take long to reach it. Not when he had already teased you with his mouth and fingers and now was fucking you so damn good you could barely breathe. Harry didn’t stop once you rode through your orgasm, no, he took it as an opportunity to give you barely ten seconds of rest and flip you around so you were lying flat on the table. He was nestled back in you before you knew it, in a single fluid thrust that had you crying out from sheer sensitivity. 
He didn’t seem to care, or he did but just liked to see the way the tears streamed down your face. And you were okay. He knew you were okay because he checked in with you in that ten seconds of rest, making sure you were green before he flipped you over to fuck you how he wanted. 
And fuck. This was how he wanted you. 
“You just take it so fucking well, don’t you sweetheart? Always squeeze around my cock so tight.” Harry uttered through gritted teeth, fingers achingly squeezed into your cheeks while his eyes remained glued to where you two were connected.
Harry always loved fucking you from behind. The heart shape of your ass, the way he could see all your pretty holes and how you clenched around him, the way he could get his cock inside you deeper than other positions… how he could grab your hips and fuck you hard, bruising your insides and out. He liked being able to spank your pretty ass and thumb at your tight ring of muscles and he especially liked spreading your cheeks and burying his face between them. 
But nothing compared to watching your face. The way your eyes would roll back into your head, how they’d flutter and close when something felt especially good. The scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow and the way your mouth would part in a whimper when something hurt a little too good. The way your jaw would clench and slack and how dazed your eyes got when he wrapped his hand around your throat.
He loved watching the effect he had on you. Your face showed him how good he was making you feel in a way your body didn’t and it became a little game to him on how to get you to make certain facial expressions. 
Mostly though… he liked watching your eyes gloss over the harder he fucked you, the meaner he was. He loved to watch you slip into an ultimate state of submission and pleasure. 
“Daddy…” You moaned, unable to come up with anything in reply to him. You were already too far gone. 
“I know.” He sympathised. “Shit baby, you feel so fucking good. So good. Got the best pussy, you do.” 
There was nothing like having a man moan for you. When they whimpered for you, praised you.
“Love your cock.” The words tumbled out without real thought, “feels so good. Always need it so bad.”
Shit. You didn’t talk dirty very often, not that Harry minded. He liked to watch your reactions when he uttered total filth. But Jesus… when you said anything remotely sexual like that, that you loved his cock? For a moment he feared he was going to prematurely cum before he made you finish for the second time. 
“I love when you talk dirty to me, baby, but you’re gonna need to stop if you want me to keep fucking you.”
You let out a choked laugh at his words, loving how one small compliment had him stilling for a second to collect himself. You clenched on purpose, gasping with a smile when he pinched your cheeks a little harder. 
“Spit in my mouth.”
Now you were just fucking with him. Through the haze of your pussy being completely destroyed by him, you still managed to tease him and be a fucking brat. 
“God, you’re fucking filthy today.” He gritted, cocking his head while sliding his hand down your jaw to the top of your throat so he could tuck his thumb into your mouth. “Open up.”
Your lips parted instantly, earning a pleased ‘good girl’ in return that had you happy as anything. “Stick your tongue out.” Again, you followed his instruction instantly, whimpering when his fingers dug into the sides of your neck with purpose. “That’s it. Good girl.”
It all happened so fast. The praise. The hammering of his hips against yours. The woozy pleasure feeling clouding your brain like a drug. All of it. And then it happened. Harry collected the saliva in his mouth and spat it all over your tongue, watching with sick satisfaction as your saliva slid down to the back of your throat. He groaned loudly and leaned in to kiss you fiercely, picking up the pace against your hips in a way that had tears trailing down your face. 
It was so good. So so fucking good. It felt like your whole body was on fire. Every square of your body was pressed against his and when he fucked you particularly hard, the dining table scraped across his gorgeous wooden flooring. Harry didn’t give two fucks about his scratched floors, if anything he liked the thought of always looking at a constant reminder that you were his. 
“Can’t believe what a little slut you’re being tonight.” He grinned, palming over your breast and pinching your nipple until you cried out and arched against him. “You fucking love my spit, don’t you? That’s why you asked for it. Because you love being my filthy little slut.”
Filthy little slut. God you loved when he was a little mean to you. A lot mean sometimes too. 
“Uhuh. Love it so much.” You nodded enthusiastically, well, as enthusiastically as you could after an orgasm and his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your throat. 
“Yeah? Take some more than. Since you want it so fucking bad.” He spat into your mouth again, using two fingers to roughly spread it over your tongue. He pushed them back, laughing when you suddenly gagged around his fingertips. “Aw, poor baby can’t even handle my fingers, hm? How do you manage my cock then if you can’t even take two fingers down your throat?” 
He grabbed your neck this time and pushed you back until you were lying down on the table before grabbing your ankles to hike them on your shoulder. 
Yeah… a lot mean was fucking hot. 
“Harry.” You protested, covering your face with both hands. 
Your whole body was heating up from how mean he was being. Maybe even a little shy at how much you liked it. It shouldn’t have been a surprise anymore that you liked it, not when you two had so much practice with it. Yet you still found yourself getting nervous when he looked at you a certain way or said a certain thing. You rather liked it like that. You never wanted to lose the butterflies. The romance. The big pile of mush you turned into when he degraded you and used you. 
“Don’t start being shy now, Angel. You know you like it.” He smirked, reaching forward to grab your hands from your face. He interlaced your fingers, drawing your hands down to rest on your belly so he could look at you. “Wanna look at you, baby. You’ve got the prettiest face. Look so gorgeous like this.”
Every word seemed to be egging you on, drawing you closer to the inevitable ecstasy that would flood through your core. The angle was so intense, so deep you knew that if he pressed on your belly, his cock would press through. 
“Oh god. I’m… shit. I’m so close.” You moaned, squeezing his hands and digging your heels into his shoulders. 
“Give it to me, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“My… my clit.”
Harry kept one hand intertwined with yours while the other moved down to your clit. He rubbed purposed circles over your bundle of nerves, delivering such perfect pressure it barely took a murmured ‘I love you’ for that wave of white hot pleasure to rush over you. His thrusts stilled at the feeling of you clenching around him and he was quick to widen your legs and fold over you so he could lazily slot your lips together. 
With a curse and a pretty whimper into your mouth that had your head spinning, Harry thrust once, twice, three final times until you felt his hot cum fill you up. His body was so heavy over yours, your sticky bodies pressed and joined together. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, wanting to keep him as close as possible to you. 
“God, that was so good.” He murmured, tucking his forehead into the crook of your neck.
“Agreed. I’ve missed that” you whispered, panting slightly as you ran your fingers through his hair. 
“Me too. Fuck.” He propped himself up over you, pushing your hair back from your face. “Are you okay?”
You smiled and let out a small laugh, tipping your head up so you could kiss him. “I’m more than okay. Two orgasms equals a happy girl.” 
“And what does three make you?” He grinned. 
“An even happier girl, possibly a tired girl.” You smiled, reaching your arms above your head to arch your back in a stretch. He shook his head and stood back straight, scanning his eyes over the light sheen of sweat on your pretty skin. 
“And you’re not tired now?” Harry raised his brow, looking down at your pussy to watch himself pull out. He did so slowly, careful not to hurt you and was completely mesmerised by the trail of cum that followed his cock. 
“Fuck.” You whispered, feeling an ache when he fully pulled out of you. “Of course I’m tired. A little sore too. I think I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”
“Mh. Me too. Wish we could sleep together.” He replied, eyes glued to his cum slowly dripping out of you. “I don't think I’ll ever get over how hot it is to see you like this.”
“Mmh.” You agreed, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at his cock covered in your cream. “I always thought creampies were overrated before you. Now… I love it.” Your eyes flickered back to Harry, who was already looking right at you with this dark look that made you want to climb all over him again. “I like feeling it later… even if it’s a little gross to sit in cold cum.”
Harry scrunched his nose up at that, “You could’ve made that so much sexier, y/n. Now when you go home I’ll be thinking of stale cum.”
“I didn’t call it stale! I said ‘cold’.” 
“Like that’s any better?” He laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ll grab you some water and a towel, okay? Stay here.” 
“Like I’d go anywhere, I’ll drip stale cum all over your floor.” You shot back as he was already walking into his kitchen. You loved his ass. It was just so cute half the time you had this temptation to just whack it but you knew he’d hate it and probably retaliate ten times worse. 
There was something so sexy about him walking around stark naked without a care in the world. He had such confidence in his body and himself that he really didn’t care. You weren’t as confident as he was in that department but being with him had definitely made you more confident in your skin. 
“It’s already on my table, y/n. The floor won’t make much difference.”
You clenched up immediately at that comment, trying to stop more of his cum from dripping out of you. “Yeah… we’ve got to sanitise this. We eat here.” You scrunched your nose and sat up to look at the spot between your legs, finding his cum already dripped onto the table. 
“Baby I’d sanitise the entire house if it meant I got to fuck you anywhere and everywhere.” He smirked, coming back with a big glass of water and a damp tea towel. He had already cleaned himself up and was quick to crouch down before you to clean you up as well. You didn’t get very nervous about the cleanup anymore. Harry had wiped you clean and taken care of you dozens of times. 
“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing the glass from where he had put it on the table beside you. “Your bed’s next. When we have more time.”
“I still can’t believe we haven’t christened my bed yet. It feels wrong.” He murmured, watching you 
shakily bring the glass to your lips while he grabbed your underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor and dragged them up your legs.
“I know. I’ve missed your bed. It’s a lot comfier than mine, more space too.” You had this little mischievous grin playing on your lips, one that Harry found incredibly sexy. 
You were still breathing a little heavily and managed to finish half the glass by the time you lifted your hips and Harry adjusted your underwear back in place. You attempted to set the glass down on the table beside you but before you could, he stood up and stopped you with a finger pushing the cup up towards you.
“Ah. All of it.” He tutted, looking at you expectedly until you brought the cup up to your mouth again. He maintained eye contact with you, one hand rubbing over your bare thigh while he kept a single finger underneath your glass. It was firm enough to tell you to keep drinking, but not enough so you wouldn’t be able to move the glass on your own. “Good girl… that’s it, drink all of it. Atta girl.”
You loved being fucked rough and dirty and since you two decided not to use condoms, your favourite thing was being pumped full of his cum, even more so when he degraded you when it happened. Like he just did barely two minutes ago. But there was something even better about the aftercare. His sweet tone, his commanding and caring nature as he got you water and a snack. All of it. 
And the praise. Somehow it was so much sexier when you two were post-sex, even more so when it was casual. A nonchalant ‘good girl’ when you did something he asked or a loving ‘I’m so proud of you’ when you got a good grade or finished an assignment. His atta girl at finishing your water nearly made you drop to your shaky knees and get him nice and hard again with your mouth. 
He said the words like they were nothing then moved on, not really caring that you were like a frozen deer at the first sign of praise. “I happen to like your bed. It’s cosy.”
“Yeah…” you breathed, “cosy and next to a thin wall where even adjusting in my bed can be heard by next door.”
“You don’t think they’d like hearing you call me ‘Daddy’?” He grinned, putting his sweatpants on and grabbing your t shirt to help put that on you too. You’ll definitely have to shower the second you walk into your house. There’s just no way you don’t smell like a sex club. 
“No, I don’t think so.” You finished the very last sip of your water, making sure there wasn’t a single drop left in the glass. Once it was all gone, Harry grabbed it from you and placed it down on the table out of the way, tipping your head up with a gentle finger under your chin while his thumb rubbed over the leftover wetness around your mouth from your drink.
“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his thumb.
Harry smiled softly and guided your mouth to his for a single, deep, core-clenching kiss. It felt like a kiss that was promising so much more and even though you just had your fill, literally, it didn’t make you any less insatiable for him. There was just something about Harry dominating… truly dominating that turned you into a horny little rabbit. 
You wouldn’t be surprised if Harry called you that one day. It felt like the less you saw each other, the more insatiable you became. With the last couple of weeks being so busy, each time you’ve seen each other had been takeaway or a quick dinner and quick - but good - sex. You didn’t have proper time together and while fucking until the morning sounded and felt like a good idea in the moment, when you both woke up and Harry had his long commute to work or you had a day full of classes it became a regret.
Well, not a regret per se. You’d never regret sleeping with him. Ever. But you both complained about being tired the entire day to each other. More you than him since you loved to complain about everything and now Harry was fortunate enough to be the one to hear it all. It was worth it, but it was hard.
You couldn’t take every weekend, or even every second weekend off work to spend time with Harry because you needed money and he couldn’t ‘work from home’ to spend time with you. Driving so much took it out of both of you too so it was always easier if he stayed the night. Things would change once your parents knew and you had a bit more freedom… but you had a feeling they wouldn’t be totally happy with you spending nights with him instead of them.
And next door to top it all off.
Your anxious feelings didn’t help the situation either, but even with that little hiccup, you had missed time. Time where you two could just explore each other's bodies and try new things, go multiple rounds without the stress of your responsibilities. You had that before you two started dating so you knew that the changes to your sex life were mostly your fault. Or because of your situation. 
If you lived closer things would be a lot easier. But that was also life and you two were figuring out what worked for you and now to manage it all. Ideally, once you were finished with university, maybe you two would move in with each other or at the very least you’d want to live much closer to him. 
It was still so early into your relationship and you didn’t want to jump too far… but being full of his cum made your brain a little dizzy and romantic. Suddenly you were ready to forget your birth control and let him fuck a baby in you so you could be at home with him all the time. As a fantasy of course. 
Which is why your post-sex horny brain took a few seconds longer to process the next words out of his mouth. 
“Hey, um. I need to tell you something.” He whispered, forehead pressed against yours. He slid his hand along your cheek to cup your face, letting his fingertips comb through your hair a little. 
“Hm?” you asked, brows furrowing when you read the nervous look in his eyes. Your stomach dropped suddenly and that anxious gut feeling felt more rampant than ever. “What is it?”
“I have to go back to London.” 
“Oh, okay.” You were a little taken aback. Harry hadn’t mentioned any trips or work events or anything recently. The timing of it right after the phone call too felt a bit unnerving. You just hoped everything was okay. “When?”
“Just over a month.” He murmured, feeling that steady beat of anxiety claw at his throat. Harry hated that he had to ruin such a good moment, such a pleasurable, romantic experience to talk about this. He wasn’t sure how you’d react and it scared the hell out of him. 
“Wow, that’s short notice.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, threading your fingers casually into his hair. “Is it… family? Or work or?”
“Family. I…” he swallowed thickly, hugging his arms around you. “It’s my sister’s birthday. Everyone’s going to be there.”
“That’s great.” You smiled, relieved that it wasn’t something horrible. That he was okay. “That’ll be such a nice trip, Harry. Did you saw them last year when you went over?”
Harry didn’t speak about them a lot. He didn’t not speak about them and when they came up he always had something to say, but it also wasn’t a topic he brought up by himself. He spoke about his travels quite often, but even that topic hadn’t come up in a while. You were a little glad actually because you didn’t really want to think about him going away for so long. The thought of him in Italy looking all gorgeous and tanned without you made you violently ill. 
Harry shook his head and sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about my family.”
And there it was. 
“What do you mean?” You asked softly, trying not to jump to any conclusions. Whatever it was had to be deeply personal and you knew that. 
After the very brief mention of his nephew passing, you two hadn’t spoken about it once. You wanted to ask but it never felt like the right time and after that phone call, the last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were pressuring him into talking. 
And now to learn there was more… 
“Well… you know how I told you about my nephew?” You nodded, “When he died… it was right around the time I was meant to move here. The timing was so fucked. My flight had been booked for months and it was scheduled for the week after the funeral. Everything was packed and ready to go and my job was due to start only a few days after I landed in Melbourne…”
“That must’ve been so hard, Harry. I can’t imagine having to leave everyone so close to his passing.”
“It gets worse, y/n.” He shook his head, looking down at the floor. “When Harry Jr died, it really fucked me up. I already wasn’t in the best mental state because of my ex, even if I thought I was fine, and I couldn’t handle it.” You weren’t exactly sure where he was going with it. It was clear he did something, but what? “Harry Jr was like my own kid. Him and Lola were everything to me but he was just… like my twin. Lola and I were close but it didn’t compare to the bond Harry and I had. Losing him was… the worst thing that has ever happened to me and as fucked as it was and still is, I couldn’t handle it.”
Harry was starting to get worked up. His words were becoming a little shaky and you could feel how tense he became. He was holding onto you so tight and yet he was avoiding looking at you. He was scared to hear how you were going to react and he was having a hard time finding the words to explain what he had done. 
Practicing with Max did nothing to help. He had told people before and been faced with his actions for years so it wasn’t a new discussion to have. But telling you, the love of his life, how he betrayed and destroyed his family only to keep himself distanced because he was a coward was the hardest it had ever been.  
“Everyone grieves differently, Harry. It would’ve been hard for everyone.” You tried to soothe, combing through his hair. 
“I changed my flight to the day of the funeral.” He just went and said it, immediately feeling your fingers stop in his hair and how you seemed to pull your body back from his. You didn’t mean to do it, but you were a little shocked. “I spent days breaking down and feeling the most depressed I had ever been. The idea of going to that funeral and seeing the small coffin… I couldn’t do it.” He stepped back from you, running his hands through his hair. He was shaking, his throat aching with how hard he was willing away the tears. His eyes were stinging and he didn’t want to face you as he explained the rest of the story, even when you slipped off the table and whispered his name, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 
“I skipped the funeral without telling anyone and I flew here to start my new life.” He paused, swallowing thickly, “I left her, y/n. I left my only sister on the worst day of her life because I couldn’t handle it. She lost her son and I left. I left!” The words came out in an angry spit and his shoulders seemed to widen and slump forward like he was holding back immense rage. At himself. “We fought and she said she’d never forgive me again, fuck I can’t forgive myself. I don’t even want to.”
You were a little thrown off balance, to be honest. You never expected him to say any of that and to hide it from you for so long. But you couldn’t be upset either. He made a terrible mistake and you could see how badly it was eating him up. Harry was a proud person and very rarely doubted himself or his actions, yet you knew he was so ashamed in himself for what he did. It was hard to see. 
“Harry…” You tried to get him to turn around with a little squeeze of his shoulder but he shrugged it off. 
“My mum hated me, Gemma hated me, Andy hated me. Everyone hated me and I deserved it. I’ve skipped every Christmas since because I couldn’t face it and because I was a coward. I’m still a coward. I’ve sent letters and texts and tried to call her and I’ve never been able to see her face to face because I’m scared. I’ve never been able to push myself to that next step because I keep thinking it’s too late. That she’ll never forgive me.” 
You could see how devastated he was about it and how angry he was at himself. And you understood it. He had spent nearly five years away from his family, beating himself up because of a huge mistake he made. And it was huge. You weren’t going to dispel that. You weren’t even sure that if you were in Gemma’s place, you’d ever get over something like that. 
But Harry has also changed a lot. You imagined Harry Jr’s death changed him for the worse. Since the moment you met him, he always was a selfish, narcissistic person. It was never a secret that he lived his life for himself and cared about money and his job over anything else and maybe Harry Jr’s death had something to do with that. But since knowing him he’s made so many improvements to himself. He’s completely turned around to try and be an honest and good person.
The things he did for you and put himself through to protect you wouldn’t be done by just anyone. He had so much love in him and had proved that time and time again. He was attentive and caring and so generous. You were starting to think that he always was that person but was torturing himself for so long because of the mistakes he had made that it was easier to keep people at an arm's length.
After knowing him deeper though, you knew that his family meant a lot to him. He spoke to his mum at least twice a week and looked after her financially too. She was a young mum and had already been retired for nearly 10 years because of the way Harry invested his money and the success he had in all his different ventures. Being able to retire a parent when you’re barely 30 and live your own life in such an extravagant way is a massive achievement. 
Which is why you were just so shocked he hadn’t visited Gemma in person yet to try and mend things. How did it take so long for him to finally make the decision to go back to the UK and mend things with her, at least you assumed that’s why he wanted to go to her birthday. You assumed the phone call with his mum had something to do with it too. 
You weren’t really sure what to make of it or what to say. You loved him and were always going to love him and it hurt to know that he had been in a mental place so low and so far gone that he hurt his only sibling this badly. He was suffering with his own grief and unable to cope that badly that his sister, the mother of his nephew had to mourn the loss of her son and her brother all at the same time.
It was awful all around. 
“Harry. Turn around, please.” You coaxed gently, giving his shoulder another little squeeze. He inhaled a shaky breath and slowly turned around, showing you his reddened eyes and puffy nose. “Come here.” You guided, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the couch so you two could sit and talk about it properly. He remained silent while you took his hands in yours, trying to find the right words to support him. 
“What you did was wrong…” His expression seemed to fall even further, complete despair in his eyes. “But you don’t need me to tell you that.” You softened your expression, reaching up to cup his face in both hands. “You’ve been torturing yourself because of this for years and I get it. I can’t put myself in your shoes or even Gemma’s shoes because I don’t have siblings and I don’t have nieces or nephews but I understand loss and I understand family. Everyone grieves differently but the one constant in our lives is our family. I don’t think it’s too late to make up for it.”
“You don’t mean that.” He whispered, scanning your face. “Why don’t you hate me? I fucked up.” 
“You did and I won’t excuse what you did. But you were in a horrible part of your life and yeah, the right thing to do was go to the funeral, but you made your choice and you’ve lived with the consequences already. You have changed and grown so much since we started dating, Harry, and I can see the difference it’s making in your life. All you can do now is try and show Gemma you’ve changed. That you’re better.” 
Harry said nothing for a moment and swallowed the lump in his throat, “I’ve tried to go home to her for years and every time I get close, I see how happy they are without me and it stops me. There was one Summer I even made it to the front gate and saw Gemma and Lola through the window. They looked so happy. Lola was so big and Gemma looked at peace. I didn’t want to destroy that.”
“Don’t you think she’d be happier knowing she had her brother back?” You asked softly, dropping your hands from his face to grab his hands instead.
“I don’t know.” He admitted, “My mum has been trying to get me to go back for a long time, always trying to convince me that everyone missed me. That Gemma missed me. I never went because I was thinking about myself instead of her. It was easier for me to stay away than confront what I did. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to be that person.” 
He sounded so determined and he was. He always appreciated your honesty and you kept him accountable time and time again but you did it in a way that still supported him. You listened to him fully and offered support and advice. You didn’t act like he was a monster. He hoped that you felt like that on the inside too.
“Is that what the phone call was about? Her birthday?” 
Harry nodded. “My mum has been hounding me about it for months. When the call happened I wasn’t ready to tell you because I was scared I’d lose you. Really fucking scared. I know it upset you, baby, and I’m so sorry.” He squeezed your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I didn’t mean to lie. I didn’t want to. I hope I haven’t lost you because I was ashamed.”
“You haven’t.” You smiled, squeezing his hands. “You haven't. I was upset at the time, but I didn’t want to press you because you’re allowed to have things that are just yours... I knew you’d tell me when you were ready.” You reached up to cup his cheek, watching the way he nuzzled into your touch, eyes fluttering closed at the comfort he felt. “I don’t think you’re that person anymore, Harry. I think Gemma would appreciate the work you’ve put into yourself to become a better person.”
“You think so?” He whispered, scanning your face with his eyes. 
You nodded. “I think it’ll take time. I honestly don’t know how things will work out because I don’t know her, but I know you and I know you’ll do everything you can to fix things with her. You’re her brother, Harry.”
“I love you,” Harry murmured, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck to draw you in for a kiss. This wasn’t the end of this conversation by any means. You had questions and you hoped that he’d be a lot more open about his family now. This was such an intense, deep-rooted issue. If he wanted to talk about it more, which you hoped he did, it wouldn’t happen in one night. 
The kiss deepened ever so slightly, ending with a little run of his tongue against your bottom lip while he rested his forehead against yours. “Will you come with me?” 
“What? Where? To London?” You blinked, a little surprised at his sudden request. 
He nodded, tightening his hand in your hair just a little. It wasn’t to hurt you, just to feel you. “I don’t know if I can do it by myself. I want you there.”
“Harry-” you tried to interrupt, but it was like he felt your hesitation before you even said anything. 
“I can show you my hometown, my house. You can meet my mum, maybe even Gemma. I just… I don’t want to leave you. I want you to come with me.”  
This felt like something he needed to do by himself. It happened before he even knew you and was such an important step in his life. Family is family and it would almost feel like an intrusion to be there when he’d be sorting through so much history. 
“Harry…” you sighed, leaning back. “I want nothing more than to support you but I have school. I don’t know if I can take time off and I’ve still got this trip planned at the end of the year with my friends. Money wise too… it’s a lot and it’s so soon.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay for a thing, y/n. I’d never let you do that.” His voice turned lower just a touch like he was almost reprimanding you for even suggesting he’d let you pay for a single thing. “And I think it might even align with your semester break, at least some of it anyway. Even if you flew in later and met me there? We could travel. I could take you to my house in Italy.” He was trying so hard to convince you but by the look on your face, it wasn’t working. 
“It’s not just that, Harry.” You chuckled at his attempts to convince you, which actually were quite appealing. “I love you and the idea of Italy and seeing where you grew up is so… amazing but I think this is something you need to do by yourself. There is so much history there and so much you need to work through. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to go.” 
“I want you to come.” He coaxed, pecking you quickly. God when he had that almost pouty look on his face and murmured so sweetly… you’d agree to anything. “You can do your own thing. You’ve always wanted to go to London. There’s so much to do and you can do whatever you want. As long as I get to see you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. Have you in my bed every night.” Now the thought of that was extremely appealing. “Just think about it. Please.” 
“I’ll think about it.” You compromised, smiling softly. 
“Thank you.” He kissed you again before wrapping his arms around you to draw you into his chest. Both of you knew you had to head home, but it wasn’t the right time for you to leave. You couldn’t. 
You spent the next hour or so just wrapped in his arms, then him wrapped in yours. He opened up a little more about Gemma and his extended family and he already seemed so much more open to speak about them. You could tell this was something that weighed heavy on him for a long time. 
Archie made his way from outside at some point too, bringing in a trail of dust and leaves that broke the tension in the room and let you and Harry distract yourselves by bathing him. He had been running a muck outside the entire time, obsessively playing with a new toy Harry bought him. He was so engrossed in it, that he didn’t even know you came over. 
That was probably a good idea since you and Harry spent a lot of your time together naked. You swear Archie had PTSD from Harry’s instruction to go to his bed.
It was late by the time you peeled yourself from Harry, not wanting to leave but knowing you had to. He didn’t want you to leave either but you promised to come over before you left in the morning. He was tempted to come home with you and you had a feeling he might drive back in his own car so he could spend the night with you, or even the day before driving back in the night. 
It was times like these where you hated that your parents didn’t know about him. After learning everything, maybe it was time. 
“Hey, baby.” Your mum greeted, hugging you the moment you walked into your kitchen. 
“Hi.” You smiled, hugging her back. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, pumpkin.” He hugged you next, kissing your forehead before returning to the pot he was stirring on the stove. 
“Sorry I took forever, I was catching up with Harry then Archie ended up dragging dirt through the house so I stayed to help him clean up.” You explained, hoping she bought the excuse. There was this expression on her face that just told you she didn’t believe you, but she didn’t say anything about it so you decided to leave it and not say too much. Otherwise, she’d really know something was up if you started waffling. 
“It’s nice you two have stayed so close.” There was something about the way she focused on the word ‘close’, but she had a glass of wine in hand and always liked to read into things when she got a bit tipsy. You hoped you were just being a little paranoid. “You think he’ll give you your job back over your semester break?” 
“Oh, I don’t know. I might just plan my shifts at the cafe so I can be here for a couple of days then at mine for a couple of days. I don’t want to cut my shifts at the cafe completely.”
“Mh.” She agreed, “think about it. You know I like having you around.”
“I know. I like being here too.” You smiled, “I’m going to shower and get changed quickly. I’ll be right back.”
“Alright. Don’t be too long.” She called after you. 
“I won’t!”
The night continued as it always did. Dinner, a glass of wine, an update on your week of uni and your night out with your friends (sans Harry, of course). Then Dad went to his office to do some quotes and your mum and you wound up on the couch watching The Real Housewives. Another couple glasses of wine was involved, but it was a Saturday night and you had nowhere to be tomorrow except home. 
Perfect.
Until your mum paused the show while you got up to get a snack and when you returned, she had no plans of playing it again. She had this look on her face, like she was getting ready to announce something really big or ask you an invasive question. 
It was the latter.
“Are you okay?” You asked, landing on the couch with a heavy seat. The wine slowly infused in your body, making you feel like a heavy lump of bones. You were getting to the point where one more sip of wine would knock you out and your pillow was calling your name.
“I need to ask you something.” She shifted on the couch, sitting cross legged while facing you. She still had her glass of wine in hand, eyeing it like she had a nervous tick.
“Okay…” you looked at her a little funny, taking a sip of wine. 
“Are you sleeping with Harry?” At her words, your eyes widened and the wine suddenly travelled down the wrong hole. You coughed repeatedly and Mum was quick to lean forward to tap your back until your coughing subsided. “Our neighbour, Harry.”
“Thanks for the clarification, Mum, but I only know one Harry.” You coughed, rubbing the sore spot over your chest. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Just answer the question. Is it true?”
Shit. What were you even meant to do? You didn’t want to lie about it because the truth would always come out, but you also weren’t ready to talk about it. You had this whole speech planned and all these things you wanted to say when you brought it up to her and now that she was the one asking you about it, there was nothing in your head.  
You felt bombarded by it. But maybe it was better to tell her first before your dad found out. At least this way you could explain everything and diffuse any worries so when he found out, your mum would be on your side. And you knew she would be. Or hopeful at best. Maybe not at first, but all she wanted was your happiness and if Harry made you happy, she’d support you with it.  
Your parents had always told you that they didn’t care what you did with your life as long as you were happy, healthy and safe. They’d support you if it truly was what you wanted. When they said that they were talking about work, not dating your neighbour, but it still applied. 
It would be a shock to them and you knew that, but no one was getting hurt and you were happier than you had ever been. You knew they’d understand. Eventually anyway. 
“Um…” you trailed off, looking away briefly. “Yes? But we’re not sleeping together, we’re… we’re dating.” Even though you could tell she wasn’t surprised, the look of pure disappointment on her face expressed exactly how she felt. She didn’t want you to say yes. “I was going to tell you.” You jumped in again before she replied, wanting to get as much out as possible before she gave her opinion. “I swear. I wanted to tell you and Dad both at the same time so you two wouldn’t get all weird with each other if one of you knew first.”
“Oh god, y/n!” Mum pinched the bridge of her nose. She took a heavy sip of wine before continuing like it would somehow make the news easier to bear. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. I prayed that you weren’t and yet here we are.”
“You knew? How?”
“I didn’t know, but I kind of worked it out. You've been a little giddier than usual. Always looking at your phone and you’re always going over there when you come to visit. He's been different too. Less broody and secretive and he's been getting a dogsitter for Archie for a lot more overnights than usual. Mother’s know these things, y/n. So… explain. How did it start?”
Was it seriously that obvious? When she put it like that, it kind of was obvious that you were seeing someone. She wasn't particularly upset by it, but her tone wasn't overly jovial either. She was calm. Calm was good.
Though it could've been the wine making her more relaxed.
“I guess we kind of got closer as I dogsat Archie. We’d always talk for ages and we had that weekly dinner, which you knew about. Then one day… I don’t know. Things changed.” You averted eye contact, feeling a blush graze your cheeks at the memory of the first time you two slept together. 
“You were sleeping together?” You nodded silently, knowing that she’d be able to tell if you were lying. “When?”
“What?”
“When was the first time?”
“Mum.” You protested, “you don’t need to know that.”
“I do, actually because now that I know it happened, I need to know when it started.”
“Yes but-”
“So when was the first time, y/n?”
You clearly weren't getting out of this one.
“...A few weeks before his birthday, I guess.”
“A few weeks before his birthday.” She repeated to herself, “so you were dogsitting for him and having dinner with him for weeks and what? You two were just sleeping together each time just like that? All those times you came home ‘late’, you were sleeping with him? Right next door? Have you slept with him here?”
“Mum, stop!” You whined, hating how she seemed to be spiralling about the fact you had sex. 
Her questions were practically spitfire and if you didn't stop her now, she'd continue and her questions would get way more invasive. She always was like that when she drank. Nosy and more brazen than usual. Dad always said it was because she was pretty that she got away with the way she ran her mouth when she drank.
Mum was harmless, but God if there was even a smidge of a secret hanging around she'd find out and talk about it to anyone and everyone.
She knew you weren’t a virgin and while you didn’t share every detail of your sex life, she knew you had slept with a couple of guys. You were always open and honest with her to an extent because you valued her advice, especially when your heart got involved and you ended up getting hurt. But right now you didn’t want to hear her fears or her spiralling bout the fact you had sex next door when you knew she and Dad had sex only two rooms away from you. If it were up to her, she’d know every detail about every aspect of your life.
You understood it to an extent and you practically did share everything with her. But seriously. Boundaries. 
“I love you but it’s none of your business. I don’t ask when you and dad have sex because that’s disgusting so don’t ask me!” 
“Fine. Fine. You’re right.” She let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Just tell me you’re still on birth control and we can move on.”
“Yes. I am.”
“Good because I swear to God, y/n, if you come home pregnant...”
“Mum!”
“I had to say it, okay? It’s my job as a mother. Now continue.”
“It wasn’t serious at first and neither-” you paused to give her a warning glance when it looked like she was going to make another comment about your sex life. She only rolled her eyes and sipped her wine again, attentively listening to you talk, “neither of us wanted a relationship and I always said to you too that it didn’t interest me but he somehow managed to change my mind about it all. He didn't mean to and he was further away from commitment than I was... but the longer it went on, the more we realised that it was more than just casual." You let out a sigh, "I didn’t want to like him mum, I didn’t. There were problems and he had problems and I knew it was stupid to fall for someone who lived his whole life single and selfish but things changed and kept changing. He changed.”
The whole time you spoke, she actively listened. She didn’t try to interrupt or even make any weird noises of indignation that your dad definitely would. She just listened and processed it. You appreciated that. 
“It wasn’t an easy beginning to our relationship because we had a lot of differences and he… he hurt me really bad. I almost told you back then too because he broke my heart. Really bad.” Your voice broke slightly, feeling that same break in your heart that you did at the very beginning.
“Y/n.” She soothed, placing her hand on yours over your knee. “You could’ve told me back then, y’know. I would’ve been there for you. I'm a little hurt you didn't trust me enough to come talk to me about this.”
“It's not about trust, mum. You know I trust you. Everything was just so complicated and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t really think we’d get back together, anyway, so I didn’t want to start something and have you storm to his house to tell him off for no reason when I thought it was over.”
“I would’ve done that. I can still do that for you, if you want?” She smiled, sipping her wine again.
“No, don't," You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “We worked things out and… well we never looked back. Before we ended our casual relationship so badly, Harry was really complicated and secretive and God sometimes I wanted to strangle him. But when we got back together… he changed everything for me, mum. He worked on himself and is still working on himself and honestly, I’m probably the happiest I’ve ever been. He treats me so so well and he spoils me and loves me everyday and-”
“He loves you?” She interrupted, “as in you loves you.”
You nodded.
“And you love him back?”
You took an extra moment to respond to her, not really sure where she was going with her comments. “I do. I know I do.”
“y/n…” She sighed. You could feel the change in the air. How her active listening turned to disappointment and a hope that your relationship would end before it properly started. “I honestly thought that you were just dating and having fun and he was buying you nice things, but love? I have no doubt you feel that way towards him but isn’t it too soon?”
“I just know, mum. I had no control over it and I never meant for it to happen but it did and… and I’m happy. I’m so happy with him and even with the distance and everything else, we’re making it work.”
“But how? He’s not too much younger than your dad and I and he’s got no kids, has never been married? Everyone knows he’s had his fun and sleeps with whoever he wants, what’s to say he doesn’t still want that? And then there’s the opposite. What if he’s finally done with being a bachelor and wants to settle and have kids before he gets too old? Is that what you want? Because I know it’s not.” She gave you this look and crossed her arms over her chest, like she already knew what your answer would be.
She seemed to know all your answers tonight.
“Of course I don’t want that. Not now anyway. But he doesn’t want that and he doesn’t want to sleep around either.” 
“So you two haven’t spoken about settling down?” She fired back, already knowing that you had. Your mum was the best reader of people and relationships, probably because she stuck her nose in everyone's business and knew all the ways they failed.
“I mean we have but not for now. Like… just so we both know that this isn’t a short term kind of thing.”
“Y/n, baby. You are so young. So young and gorgeous and smart.” She soothed, leaning forward to cup your face and run her hands over your hair. “You have your whole life in front of you and the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you settling down with someone who’s already experienced everything? Would you not rather explore the world with someone who hasn’t seen it over and over again?”
“Mum, I can still do everything I want to do when I’m with him." You exasperated, brushing her hands off you. "I can travel and work overseas if I want and I still see my friends and do everything normal. Being in a relationship doesn’t stop that and if anything, Harry’s position makes it easier. He’s stable financially and is happy to slow down and do what I want. It’s not that he doesn’t get a say, but he’s got the freedom and wants to experience everything with me. It may not seem like it, but he’s got a lot of firsts too, mum. Trust me, I’ve thought about it all.”
“Look, I don’t know him very well.” She sighed, settling back against the couch. “He’s been living next door for nearly five years and I couldn’t even tell you what footy team he supports, but he’s always been polite and charming. All I can do is go off that and what you tell me and if you’re telling me you’re happy then… I guess I’m happy too. I just don’t want you to get hurt, y/n. By anyone.”
“I know. I don’t want that either but I promise you’ll love him like I do. You’ll see why he means so much to me. You and dad.” You smiled, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze.
“I hope so.” She smiled back, squeezing your hand in return. “So tell me more. Tell me everything.”
The next few hours were spent practically debriefing your entire relationship. You kept the bigger problems private as she simply wouldn’t understand the Ethan situation, but you told her everything else you two had been through. If it had something to do with Ethan, you twisted the story a little but for the most part, it was an amazing chat.
You loved your mum more than anything and to actually sit there and talk about Harry so freely and honestly and have her engage properly was the best feeling ever. She freely gave advice (even when you didn’t want it) but you were happy with that. You didn’t have a lot of boy problems so actually having someone to talk about with her was everything to you. It made you hopeful for the future of your relationship with Harry and took so much weight off your shoulders.
It was liberating.
“Oh god…” mum wheezed, her laughter coming to a stop as she finished off her final glass of wine for the evening. “I’m too drunk right now but in the morning we’ll brainstorm how to get back at chatty Cathy across the road. She can never ever keep her mouth shut. That woman.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Your brows furrowed and that happy, calm energy you had somehow dissipated into thin air. 
“Tracey? The only reason I asked you if you were seeing Harry was because Tracey’s been hinting at it for weeks. I thought I told you.”
“No… you didn’t.”
Your mind was suddenly twisting and turning. After everything you had been through with her and Ethan and even just the shit between you and Harry, she still wouldn’t leave you alone. You had done nothing to her and left her alone since you moved out for school and yet she still had to run her mouth off about you? You just didn’t get it. 
Harry had recordings over her admitting to lying to you and you had photos of her cheating and she knew that and still decided to try and get some attention her way? Nope. Not on your fucking watch. 
You were over it. You were over being the target of people who you had nothing to do with. Who only wanted to use you to get money or for some other stupid fucking reason that meant nothing in real life. You were done. So if she was going to run her big fat mouth about you, then you were going to do it right back and you were going to hit her where it hurt the most. Her family.
//
It was only a couple of days later when the truth came out. You weren’t trying to hide it from Harry but it also wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have over the phone. He got called into work for some client emergency on Sunday which ruined his plan to come spend the day and/or night with you. Then neither of you could see the other until Tuesday as he planned to work from home on Wednesday. 
You were glad that his quiet days seemed to align with yours because it meant you could spend more time together. Even if you were both busy working or doing uni work, just being in his presence was enough to make you happy. And now that your mum knew about you two… it was only a matter of time before you could start spending nights at his house too.
“Baby?” You heard Harry’s voice echo through your apartment, easily being heard in the shower due to your thin walls. 
“In here.” You yelled back, scrubbing your nails through your scalp to rinse out the remaining conditioner. Harry accidentally went home with your keypass after going on his morning run the last time he stayed over. He kept it in his shorts pocket so he wouldn’t wake you and it wound up in his bags somehow, hence his ability to enter your place without you needing to go downstairs and get him. He wasn’t really meant to have them, but it was only for a couple of days and Maeve had your spares so you could still get in and out easily.
“Can I come in?” He asked a moment later, knocking on the bathroom door. 
“Yeah.”
Wordlessly, he opened the door and let himself in, scanning your naked body from head to toe. You were facing the wall with your eyes closed, head tilted back so the water was streaming down your hair. Gorgeous. He had been craving you all day. It was just one of those days where it was shit after shit and all he wanted to do was crawl into bed with you and just be wrapped in your arms. 
“Can I join you?” Harry asked softly, itching to jump in the hot water with you. He was already loosening his tie. Before entering your bathroom he took off his jacket and shoes so he was ready to let the rest of his clothes fall to the ground without care. You always had showers extremely hot and now that the weather was cooling down, Harry quite liked the sauna it left behind in the bathroom. He didn’t particularly enjoy it when it was 30° outside but he never let that stop him from getting in a shower with you.
“Of course, you can.” You smiled, still facing away from him. You always felt a little vulnerable being in a shower with him. Even though he had seen your body plenty of times, there was still something so sacred and personal about getting clean. You were glad you had already washed yourself before he came in because the last thing you needed him to see was you plucking out one of your long hairs from your underarms or ass. 
“I wasn’t sure what time you’d be here.” You hummed, feeling the slide of his cold bare hands along your hips as he joined you in the shower.
“Yeah, I had to work late. ‘M sorry to keep you waiting.” He murmured, kissing your shoulder while wrapping his arms fully around you. You sighed into the touch, tilting your head back to welcome the feeling of his body around yours. He snuggled against you, proper bear-hugging you while digging his forehead into the crook of your neck. 
“It’s okay. Maeve dragged me to a late Pilates class so I had to wash my hair. I swear I sweat like two litres every time.” You laughed softly, “I would’ve waited for you. I like being at the door to greet you.”
“I like having you greet me too.” He kissed your neck softly, “did you have fun at Pilates? I haven’t been for a while.”
“I liked it. It was a beginner class so no handstands or anything like you do but I’m sore already. ” You teased, turning around slowly to face him. He kept your body close, immediately kissing you once your faces were in line. “We should go together sometime. I’ve been trying to get Jay to go but he keeps blowing me off.” You offered, immediately sensing that something was off with him. 
“I’d like that.” He murmured, pressing his lips against yours again. Harry was craving your comfort. He didn’t want to start anything or get too riled up, he just loved the warmth that spread through his chest when his mouth melted into yours. It could be a peck, a pash, a full snogging session. It didn’t matter. 
You combed your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “How was your day?”
“Shit. Just one of those days, y’know.” Harry replied, pressing your foreheads together before kissing you again. “I missed you.” 
“I missed you too. Do you want to talk about it?” You slowly eased your bodies around so he was facing the water instead of you. He shook his head and let his eyes flutter closed as the hot water streamed over his head. You pushed his hair back from his face, kissing his chest. “Okay.” When Harry wanted to talk he’d willingly do so, so you weren’t going to push him. Sometimes work was just shit and you got that. He’d probably talk about it later once he decompressed and relaxed. “You want me to wash your hair?”  
A smile grew on his face at your offer and he tipped his head down to look at you. Harry loved having his hair played with and his scalp scratched. He was like a cat. Sometimes he’d just lay there with his head on your lap for hours while you played with his hair. You first found it out during sex because he liked the pain, especially when his head was between your thighs so it only made sense he’d like it out of the bedroom too. 
“You sure?”
You nodded and reached up on your tippy toes to kiss him. “Turn around.” 
He pecked your mouth gently as a thank you then turned around to face the water. Wordlessly, you grabbed your shampoo and squeezed some onto your hands, rubbing them together to emulsify before you brought them to his scalp. 
Harry moaned as you massaged his scalp, using your nails to scratch as you went. “That feels good.” 
“Good.” You hummed, happy to look at the expanse of his back. His back muscles were incredible. 
It sometimes amazed you how fit he was, but with his daily runs and intense personal training sessions he somehow managed to squeeze into his routine, it really was no wonder that he looked the way he did. He worked his ass off to be as fit as he was and to stay that way and it all paid off because his physique was better than any boy your age.
You joined him in a personal training session once and you had no doubt any of the boys you had been with in the past would fail halfway through. Would you say you participated in said session? No. You were lugged over his shoulders so he could use your weight to do squats though. 
“Are we okay?” Harry asked suddenly, voice soft. 
“Of course we are.” You replied instantly. “Why wouldn’t we be?” You continued rubbing circles on his scalp, massaging him to make it more pleasurable and relaxing. Your arms were already starting to ache a little, but it was worth it. 
“I’m just making sure.” 
“I love you, Harry. Nothing will change that.” You murmured, running your hands down from his scalp to massage his neck and over his shoulder. He echoed the sentiment, voice just audible over the water as your lips created the trail for your hands to follow; over his neck and the expanse of his shoulders, down to the middle of his back and as low as you could go without bending. 
The tension was slowly leaving his body. Tense muscles melting and relaxing, his tense shoulders slumping until he was heavy on his feet. He was completely pliant to your touch and you couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around him and cuddle in bed. Part of you even wanted to skip dinner and head straight to bed.
“Rinse it, H.” You whispered, kissing a little freckle on his back before pulling back to give him space to turn around. He started scrubbing the shampoo out while you prepared his conditioner, rubbing it through your hands so it covered all your fingers. 
“Y’know something interesting did happen today. It was quite a spectacle in the neighbourhood.” Harry mused, already feeling better just by your touch and loving words. He stayed facing towards you to catch your reaction, which was as easy to read as ever. 
“What?” You froze for a split second while reaching to thread the conditioner through his hair, already knowing exactly what he was talking about. 
“Tracey was kicked out. Unfortunately I was already on my way to work but she was crying so loud everyone on the street was watching. Apparently, he found out she was cheating on him. You know anything about that?” He had this look of knowing on his face and it was like he knew that you had something to do with it. 
Shit. 
“About that…” you smiled sheepishly, putting your hands down to let the conditioner sit in his hair. 
“I knew it!” He accused, laughing while squeezing your hips. “What did you do?”
“Okay, but you can’t be mad.” You laughed, poking his chest. “I was going to tell you tonight, okay?” 
“Mad? Why would I be mad?” His brows knitted together, “I’m sure whatever you did had good reasoning behind it.”
“Well, yeah she’s a cunt but it’s not that.” Harry laughed loudly at your comment and you could feel his mood being lifted like steam dissipating in the air. You had such a fucking mouth on you sometimes. He loved it. “When I got home after we had that talk, everything was normal until my mum and I were watching TV after dinner. She said she had to talk about something and then just flat-out asked me if you and I were sleeping together! Like it was nothing.” 
“Shit.” His eyes widened, “And what did you tell her?”
“I told her the… truth.” You were a little nervous to tell him. A lot nervous actually. You knew he was ready to tell your parents whenever you were, but it felt wrong to have that conversation without him. But you couldn’t exactly call him or go over to his house after he just told you about his nephew. That would’ve been all sorts of fucked. Your mum knowing about you two dating meant nothing compared to what he was going through. 
“You did?”
“Yes. I’m really sorry.” You rushed out. “I wanted you to know when I was going to do it but I couldn’t lie to her when she was straight out asking me the question.”
“And you thought I’d be mad?” He scoffed, laughing softly while tucking your hair behind your ear. “Baby, the only way I’d be mad is if you were pressured into doing something you weren’t ready for. Were you okay having that conversation with her? I know… I know you weren’t ready to tell your parents yet.”
“Harry she asked me because Tracey was talking shit. After everything, everything we went through and all the fucked up shit she did and she still can’t leave me alone. I’ve done nothing to her.”
That manipulative cunt. 
Harry didn’t like to use that word very often. Other than the obvious use when he was trying to degrade you. But there was simply no other word in the English language that summed up who Tracey was. Desperate? Yes. Annoying? Just the sound of her breathing had Harry gritting his teeth. But the only word that truly encompassed everything about her was cunt.
He had no idea that her being kicked out was because she was causing problems again. He assumed it had something to do with you because you were cheeky and sneaky at times, but he didn’t expect this. After everything that happened, he thought you guys were done with her. 
“What the fuck? Fucking hell, y/n. Why didn’t you tell me?” He was getting a little frustrated at you now and you could see it in his expression. You just grabbed his hair and tilted his hair back, forcing his hair back under the water to rinse the conditioner out. Even though he was annoyed you didn’t tell him, he was still pliant to your touch and it took very minimal effort to maneuver his head. 
“Because we just spoke about your family and my drama literally doesn’t matter compared to what you’re going through. I didn’t want to bother you and then I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“Of course it matters.” He scoffed, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this shit by yourself. I thought she was dealt with, but clearly not. How long have you known?”
“I found out when my mum asked me about us. I had no idea anything was happening before that.”
“So… what? Tracey’s been running her mouth?”
“Basically.” You sighed, still running your fingers through his hair to get rid of the last bits of conditioner. “She hasn’t said anything directly, but she’s been making comments and saying random things that makes people think that we’re sleeping together. At least that’s what my mum said.”
“I don’t get why she’s doing this.” He sighed, “You’ve moved out and we’ve left her alone after everything that happened. She’s got no reason to come after us again.”
“Like I said, she’s a cunt.” Your words came out matter-of-factly, eliciting a roll of Harry’s eyes. “She’s probably bored and thinks that it’s easy to use me to have her fun because I’m not there to defend myself.”
“Bullshit. I’m there to defend you. Why isn’t she scared of me?” Harry scoffed, eliciting a laugh in response.
“Harry she’s obsessed with you and even if you blackmailed her and stomped all over her old wrinkly heart, she still wants you.”
“I didn’t stomp over anything. And I’m taking your old wrinkly statement as an insult.”
“Yeah right. You love being the ripe age of 39. ‘I get sexier with age, y/n’.” You quoted, attempting to mimic his low raspy accent. He raised a brow and immediately went for your sensitive spots, squeezing your waist with light twinkling fingers in an attempt to tickle you. “Stop!” You squealed, hitting his hands away. “Stop it Harry!”
“Admit I get sexier as I age. Admit it.” He threw back, wrapping one arm around your waist while using the other to tickle you. 
“I hate you!” You tried to push his hand off, laughing and wiggling and squealing all at the same time. It didn’t help that you two were still very much naked. “Whatever. You’re sexier as you age.”
The tickling stopped instantly and Harry had this smug grin on his face, happy that he beat you. “Thank you.”
“You’re a child.” You rolled your eyes.
“Come on. Finish the story.” He laughed softly, looping his arms around your waist. 
“I don’t even know what I was up to before your ego got bruised.”
He chose to ignore that statement. “You were explaining how obsessed Tracey is with me.”
“Oh, right. She’s obsessed with you so obviously she won’t be scared and she’s not threatened by me. She really didn’t think that I’d retaliate in any way even if I told her I would and now look at her. I think I handled it pretty fucking perfectly.” You announced proudly. 
It felt a little evil to be so happy over someone elses pain. You had ruined Tracey’s life and yet you were satisfied. It felt justified. In the beginning you never wanted to use your threats against her. You just wanted to be left alone, even if that meant sitting on evidence that she was having an affair. Now though… you felt worse about keeping it a secret than using it to get back at her.
“I’d say so.” Harry laughed. “How did it all happen?”
“She goes to pilates on Sundays so I waited until she was gone and went over to speak with Oscar. All I did was tell the truth and show him one of the photos of her and Ethan. I felt really bad for him, actually. He believed me even before I showed him a photo but he still wanted to see it, probably for proof so he doesn’t have to pay her out.” 
“Well shit.” Harry laughed, quickly turning you both around so you got some of the hot water. “He clearly didn’t take it well.”
You shook your head. “No. I could tell he was trying not to cry. I feel like I should’ve told him earlier.” You looked away for a moment, “it feels wrong to use one persons tragedy to get back at someone else. Like this is probably the worst thing to ever happen to him and I used it to get back at her. He doesn’t deserve that. Neither do his kids.”
“I know. The truth had to come out some way, though. It always does. Don’t blame yourself too much for it just because you benefited from it in some way. ” He grabbed your chin gently, guiding you to look back at him. “How did your mum react when you told her about us, anyway?” 
You were glad he was switching back to your mum because you really didn’t want to dwell to much on Tracey of all people. Or the shittiness you felt. 
“She already knew before Tracey started talking about us. She had this look on her face like she was waiting for me to outright say it.” 
“Wow. Really?”
“Yeah… she said it was mother’s intuition or whatever. I’m surprised she waited this long to say something about it, to be honest. She usually can’t keep her mouth shut and she already had a glass of wine when we spoke about it.”
Harry smiled at your comment, smoothing his hands over your back. “Was she upset about it? What did she say?”
“We spoke about it for a long time. She wasn’t upset but not thrilled either. I told her how happy I am and a little bit about our relationship so far and she seemed happy that it’s going well, but she’s still worried. I think she’s worried about the age gap and… well, your reputation. She doesn’t want me to get hurt.” 
You didn’t really want to go through the entire conversation with him. Nothing bad happened but it also felt like something that just you and your mum needed to know about. She gave you a lot of advice that made you feel lucky to have someone like her in your life. She was concerned but she actually listened to you, even when the conversation went a little wild, she listened to you and shared her own opinion as well. It went as well as you could’ve hoped. 
“My reputation as in…”
“Your one night stands. Obviously, I assured her that she didn’t have to worry about it. She thinks you’re charming but I think that also scares her. You’re the first real relationship I’ve had and it’s not exactly conventional and… I don’t know.” You sighed, looking away for a moment, “She said that she hoped my first love would be someone my age, that I’d date more before feeling so strongly about someone.”
Harry didn’t like the sound of that. So far, your mum’s concerns were valid ones and ones he expected. He never thought it would be easy or something your parents would understand right away and he prepared himself for that. They weren’t much older than him so navigating his relationship with them and you would take time. 
But he didn’t like the way those words came out of your mouth. That your mum hoped your first love was someone else and that you had more experience with other people before settling down. You two weren’t exactly planning for a baby or anything, it had barely been four months, and neither of you put any expectations on your relationship. You were young and he never imagined himself as the marrying type so you both just wanted to date and love each other and see how things evolved.
But you were still in it for the long haul with each other. This wasn’t a short term arrangement or something casual. You two loved each other. 
For Harry, he had already experienced heartbreak in all forms and he had grown from that. The Harry that survived his very first love was a completely different person to now. It wasn’t the only thing that shaped him to be the man he was today, but it contributed a lot to his life. He was at a point in his life now where meeting you and falling in love with you had completely changed how he thought his life would go.
He wanted to settle down with you. He couldn’t picture a future without you in it and you made it very clear that you loved him more than anything and you wanted to have that future with him. 
But you didn’t have what Harry had. You didn’t have years of making mistakes and meeting people and exploring yourself. Of figuring out who you are and what you want in life. You can do that with a partner and Harry knew he could show you the world and provide experiences you might not have if you were by yourself, but if you took the romance and his undying love for you out of the equation, would he encourage you to give your all to him? 
If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to keep their options open and grab any opportunities given to them. Was he holding you back from that?
“Do you wish you did? Have more relationships before me?” He solemnly asked, brows knitted together while he waited your reaction. 
That was a hard question to answer. But you had no regrets in dating Harry and that’s all that mattered. “In some ways, yes. I wish I had more experience in how to navigate even being in a relationship. But mostly no. There’s no one else I’d want to share my firsts with. In a lot of ways, you’re my first everything and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You cupped his face, running your thumbs under his cheeks. “Loving you is the happiest I’ve ever been and hopefully now, the people we love will be part of that too.”
Harry’s gaze softened and time seemed to still around you two. Having this conversation in such a vulnerable place like a shower only added to the intimacy of it all. You had a way of knocking the air out of his lungs. It happened with a look or a sigh, your gorgeous smile. And it definitely happened when you said things like this. 
“I want to give you the world, y/n. I want to give you everything you want. You tell me and it’s yours.” He murmured, gazing deep in your eyes.
“I just want you.” You whispered, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.”
His eyes flickered between yours as he tipped his head forward to rest his forehead against yours. His wet hair dripped down your cheek, running down your jaw and neck, all the way until it joined the water at your feet. “I just want you too. Always.” 
You smiled and pulled his mouth down towards you, pressing your body against his to get impossibly closer to him. He wrapped his arms fully around you, squeezing you against him so every inch of your pretty soft skin melted into his. Your mouths blended into one, lips brushing together in a slow languid kiss. 
His tongue slid across your bottom lip and you freely gave him access to your mouth so he could slip in and run his tongue against yours. God, everything about it was so sexy. The steam clouding over you both, how good your wet bodies felt pressed together… the way his cock started to harden against your thigh, unable to spring up in that way you loved due to how close you two were. 
“I think…” You gasped, breaking free to run your mouth over his jaw. “You should finish your shower…” You pressed kisses in a path towards his ear, kissing his lobe once you got there before playfully tugging at it between your teeth. Harry whimpered in your ear, reaching down to squeeze your ass in both hands. “...and join me in bed.”
With that, you kissed his neck then unwrapped yourself from his arms, smirking as you slid past him to grab your towel. His hand snapped out suddenly, clasping around your wrist. “Don’t go.”
Harry looked like a starved man. His chest was heaving, cock heavy and hard between his legs and his lips all red and puffy from your kisses. You would’ve fucked him right there if shower sex didn’t scare the hell out of you. 
“I’ll get you a towel.” You blew him a little kiss, ignoring the crazed look in his eyes and walking away. Oh did you love a tease. 
It wasn’t long before Harry had you pinned to your bed, grinding his hips in slow deliberate strokes. Your entire love making was just that, making love. It was slow and deep, full of so many kisses you could barely breathe. His body was pressed heavy on top of you and he made sure you felt every inch of him that you could. Every inch of his cock, every inch of his heavy muscle and soft sweaty skin.
The window above your bed was still open, a clear view of the moon above your heads. It was a view you two decided was worth putting your pillows down by your feet when you were finished so you could lay the opposite direction and look outside. You had a nice view of the water, though it was particularly dark outside and the moon was so bright it took your entire process. 
“I still can’t believe she knows.” Harry murmured, looking up from where his head rested on your chest.
“Who?” You whispered, missing the context of his comment, “My mum?” 
“Mmh.” he nodded, looking down to where your hands were joined and resting on your stomach. “It feels… good. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like we’re moving onto the next step.”
“I feel the same. I feel better knowing she’s supportive. I had a feeling she would be, but it’s nice knowing I’ve got her on my side when we tell my dad.”
“Mmh.” He hummed in agreement, looking at the string of pearls around your neck. You put them back on after the shower and he found himself mesmerised by the way they twinkled under the moon light. “y’know I told my mum I was seeing someone. After our weekend away.”
“You did?” you frowned slightly.
“I didn’t say anything too personal or anything because we were keeping it quiet.” He assured, sensing the slight panic in your voice. “But I wanted her to know I have someone in my life who makes me happy.” 
You smiled, that slight beat of worry completely gone. “What did you tell her about me?”
“Not much. Just your name and that you’re studying. I didn’t want to show her any photos without asking you. She gets a bit excited and I knew if I sent her something she’d tell everyone about it.” He rolled his eyes, but you could tell by his tone that he loved that quality about her. Pausing, he looked from the moon to you. “I think you’d like her.”
“She sounds like my type of gal.” You grinned, “I’m excited to meet her.” 
“I think she’d cry if you said that. Happy tears of course.” 
You laughed softly, swiping your fingers through his hair. It had dried down after the shower and your activities and became all fluffy and dishevelled. You loved it in its natural state.
“Would you like to meet her?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice soft so only you could hear it. There was no one in your apartment but you yet the moment was so intimate and quiet, he didn’t want to ruin it. “We could facetime?” He looked up at you, expression hopeful for your response. 
“Harry I’d love that.” 
“Really?” His eyes widened ever so slightly, like he was surprised you’d agree. “You would?”
“Of course I would.” You assured, smiling while dancing your fingers across his jaw. “Set it up. Whenever suits her.” 
“Okay.” He grinned, reaching up to kiss you quickly before settling back down on your chest to look out at the moon, “I will.”
It felt so right and natural to take this next step. There were nerves about it, of course, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared that Anne wouldn’t like you or that you’d make a fool out of yourself. But you knew a decent amount about her and even if you didn’t, you knew you’d love her simply based off the fact you loved Harry. That was enough. 
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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strange perfections
in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!
fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses
The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 
Stupid scarf, you think. 
Stupid door. 
Stupid wind. 
Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 
You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 
Stupid Lord Byron. 
Stupid cafe. 
Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 
One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 
Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 
Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 
Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 
Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 
As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 
It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 
Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 
“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 
“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”
The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 
“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”
You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 
Think of something normal to say!
“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”
You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.
“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”
You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?
“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”
He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 
“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”
Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?
But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 
“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”
He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”
You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 
All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 
Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 
“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 
“How did you do that?” 
His cheeks turn slightly pink. 
“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”
“How did you read that fast?”
“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”
You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 
“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”
The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 
“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”
Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 
“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”
“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 
“Does that make it better?”
“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”
You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 
“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 
“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”
“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”
He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 
He was totally in love with me. 
And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 
All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 
The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 
I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 
What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 
“Hi,” he says. 
“Hi!”
Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 
He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 
Spencer. Spencer. 
It feels important. 
“I see you’ve upgraded.”
“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”
“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”
“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 
Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 
Spence. 
Reality sets in. 
“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”
It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 
“I am a creature of habit.”
Another wave as he walks away. 
The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 
“Who was that?” 
“Uh… I don’t actually know.”
Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 
Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 
Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 
Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.
But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 
He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 
This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 
“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”
 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 
Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 
“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”
You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?
While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 
“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 
“Uh… hi?”
“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”
“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”
That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 
“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”
“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”
“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”
What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—
“Garcia!”
Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 
Adorable? Get a grip. 
“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”
“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 
You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?
“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.
“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”
“Yeah! Um, definitely!”
“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”
“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”
“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 
Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 
So that’s cool. 
You’re cool with that. 
Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 
“Hotch?”
“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 
“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 
Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 
You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 
Nah. Boys are dumb. 
You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 
It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?
But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 
He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 
Weird.
You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?
“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”
It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 
He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 
“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”
“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”
“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”
“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”
He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 
“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”
It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 
“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”
“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”
Your brow furrows and you laugh. 
“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”
“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”
You say it before you can think too hard. 
“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”
And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 
After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 
One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.
It ceases. And then it starts again. 
Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 
“Do you think you should…”
His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 
“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”
You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 
But his job is important. 
“What if you have a case?”
“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”
Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   
“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”
As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 
“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”
Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 
You balk.
“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”
“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”
“Where would this hanging out take place?”
Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 
“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”
He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 
“Restaurants.”
There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.
“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”
You look down. God, your face feels warm. 
“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”
Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 
“I would.” 
More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 
Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 
“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”
“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”
Spencer chuckles. 
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”
Not, what?
Not, you’ve never been on a date before?
Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?
With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 
He says none of that. 
“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 
“Sounds like a good first step.”
Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 
“Will you go on a date with me?”
Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.
“I’d love to.”
He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 
“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”
His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 
“I should—”
“You definitely need to go.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”
You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 
“I don’t—”
“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”
He’s so weird. 
A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 
987 notes · View notes
hanjsquokka · 3 days
Text
Swim - [ Lee Know ]
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🎸 SYNOPSIS : After a nasty break-up with your loser ex, you head to your favorite club to let loose, when the bartender catches your eye. He's managed to make you laugh more than you had all week and slowly you find yourself losing focus on his words and more on his veiny hands.
GENRE : smut, strangers to potential lovers
PAIRING : lee know × fem!reader
CONTENT WARNING : smut (warnings under the cut!), cocky minho, mentions of cheating (not between minho and reader), drinking
WORD COUNT : 1.7K
AUTHOR'S NOTE : (Part of my Stray Kids × Chase Atlantic series special for their sixth anniversary). Lee Minho. Where do I even start with this man. I think I started to notice more of him during the Oddinary Era videos (because of his purple hair 🧎‍���️). I feel like out of all of them, I'm very much similar to him. I like him a lot because of that. Also his cats :( I think seeing him transformed me into a 75% cat person now lmao.
minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content
SMUT WARNING : hand kink, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), piv, semi-public sex, use of nicknames (doll, bunny), choking (fem receiving), clothed sex (?), reader drinks a little but no drunk sex, everyone is sober and consenting!
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“Three shots of vodka please.” You said as you slid onto the bar stool, eyes on the bartender's back as he nodded and prepared your drink, handing you three shot glasses and leaned against the counter. You adjusted the hem of your short dress once you noticed a guy eyeing you with a hungry gleam in his eyes.
“Rough day?” The bartender asked, watching you down a glass.
“How do you know?” You asked with a chuckle.
“Everyone's out here drinking gin tonics and beers. Call it a hunch, I guess.” He shrugged, making you chuckle and thread your fingers together, watching the man with newfound interest. Brown hair hung over his eyes, the middle part showing a bit of his forehead. His lips were rosy (and very kissable at first impression). His biceps strained against the black button up he was wearing, the sleeves rolled up giving you a perfect view of his veiny arms and hands… Oh god — his hands. “So what's gotten the fine lady in a bad mood?” He asked, his big eyes focused on yours.
You drummed your nails against your glass. “I'll let you guess.”
“Let's see…” He cocked his head to the side, “boss yelled at you? Fired? Friends?” You shook your head. Finally, his eyes light up, “Ah… vodka, hanging out at the bar instead of the floor, your phone's practically a vibrator at this point — broke up with your man?”
“He's an asshole.” You huffed and took another shot, the burning liquid flowing down your throat made you cringe but you welcomed the floating feeling that followed afterwards. You weren't a lightweight, a few vodka shots weren't going to make you dead drunk, but you felt better. “He went out to a party, got wasted and fucked someone — two someone's as per his friend. And then had the fucking audacity to beg for another chance.”
He laughed. “Sounds about right.” A song started to play in the background — most likely by the performing group (3RACHA or something?) of the night since there were cheers all around. He turned around and then back again, placing a glass of ice cold beer in front of you. “On the house. That guy is an asshole. You deserve much better.”
“You don't even know me.”
“Any girl like you deserves better than a cheating bastard.”
You laughed, the smile brightening on your face as you kept talking to the man, who introduced himself as Minho. Minho. You liked that name. You liked your name rolling off his tongue even more when he repeated it after you, saying it again after tending to a few other customers. You stole glances at his hands when you thought he wasn't looking, the prominent veins underneath his smooth skin made your face flush as dirty thoughts clouded your mind.
“Do you stare at everyone's hands, or is it just mine?” The smug smile on his face paired with the glint in his eyes — he knew what you'd been doing. You turned red, trying to stammer some sort of response but it died out once you noticed that he didn't look like… he was bothered by it. “I feel honored.” He leaned forward, fingers pulling out some invisible leaf from your hair as he whispered, “wanna tell me what you were thinking about, doll?”
You gave a very intelligent response. “Uh…”
He smirked, looking away from you to tell one of the other bartenders that he was going to get more glasses from the back before telling you in a low voice, “Wait here for a few minutes and then go through the employees only door in the back.” You couldn't muster an answer before he winked and left.
Your heart was thudding in your chest. Were you actually going to do it? Follow a bartender you met a few hours ago? Something inside you was telling you to go for it. Sure, there was a possibility of you walking straight into a trap, but there were so many times he could've done something to you the whole night and he did nothing but lift your spirits. He'd managed to make you laugh more than you had all week.
You downed your last shot before getting up and going to where he instructed you to. No one batted an eye as you slipped through the clearly labeled employees only door and carefully walked into the dimly lit place that looked to be a janitor's closet when a finger tapped on your shoulder and you were met with Minho's big eyes again.
“Now that we're alone…” The muffled sound of music still played from behind the door, “what were you thinking when you were staring at my hands, hm?” You swallowed, Minho's finger traced your jawline before resting underneath your chin, making you look straight at him.
“W-Well…”
“Words, bunny.”
The nickname turned your ears red. “Y-You might be right…”
“Might?”
“Fine.” There was no going back anymore. “I was thinking… certain things about your hands.”
“Like what?”
“How they'd…” You bit your lip. “How they'd feel inside me… or… around m-my neck.”
“Good bunny.” He smirked. “Can I kiss you now?”
“Please.”
He wasted no time joining his lips with yours, practically devouring you as he pushed against the wall, tongue sliding into your mouth and meeting yours. His hands rested on your waist, squeezing the flesh as he deepened the kiss. Sloppy and messy, things only got more heated as the minutes flew by. He detached from you and instead peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Your palm was flat against his chest, feeling his muscles tensing beneath your skin. He nipped at a spot on your neck that made heat pool between your thighs, an unintelligible sound leaving your mouth.
“Oh, you liked that?” He bit down again in the same spot, hard enough to leave a mark before smoothing over it with his tongue.
“Please…” You whimpered.
“Please what?”
“N-Need you. Your fingers.”
“Where do you need them bunny?” He was teasing you. You could see that. But you had just about enough of it. You took his hand and guided it between your parted legs, right onto your covered crotch. “You're soaking. Just thinking about my hands did this to you?” You nodded. He rubbed your clothed pussy, making your head fall onto his shoulder, the feeling nearly making your knees buckle and he barely even did anything. He pulled his hand away and tapped his finger against your lips, “Suck.”
You wasted no time in doing exactly what he said, wrapping your pink lips around his two fingers and coating them with your saliva. He chuckled, taking them out and slipping off your panties from underneath the short dress you were wearing, rubbing over your folds and your clit. You moaned at the simple touch which made him chuckle. He prodded at your hole before a digit entered inside you and you could've cum from just the feelings. “Oh god…”
He inched his finger inside and slowly began moving it in and out, adding another finger when he heard the sweet, sinful sounds escaping your lips, scissoring you open. “Look at you. Already fucked out from just my fingers. How are you even going to be able to handle my cock, hm?”
“I-I can do it. Want your cock. W-Want you to fill me up, Minho, p-please —” You were cut off by your own whimper as he pressed his thumb against your bundle of nerves. You were clenching around his fingers, almost able to taste your orgasm when he stopped and removed his fingers. You whined at the loss, your climax crumbling away.
“The only way you're cumming —” He undid his belt and pulled his pants down along with boxers so his dick could spring out. “On my cock.” And it was big. Fuck. You drooled at the sight of his thick cock, the leaky mushroom tip and the vein that ran along his length and then his heavy balls — holy shit. “Get on that table for me.” He nudged his head towards the small desk table. You scrambled to get there, laying down on the cold wood, your wet pussy on full display for him. “Such an obedient bunny.” He ran the tip of his dick along your folds, only entering you slowly after you whined for him to just put it in.
And he was big. He just kept going and going until you felt the head brush against your cervix. You felt impossibly full, head swimming in ecstasy. Through your half-lidded eyes, you could see he was struggling to keep his composure, eyebrows taut as he held your hips down. Once you gave him the go ahead, he wasted no time in setting a quick pace. Your moans echoed off the walls. The music from outside was like a background track for the sinful deed you were doing.
The water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim.
“Pussy so fucking tight — even after I stretched you out with my fingers —” Minho grunted, angling his hips so that he was hitting that spot inside you that made you see white with every thrust. You were babbling incoherently, much to his amusement. “Did I fuck my bunny dumb already?” One of his free hands reached up and wrapped around your throat. You opened your eyes again, the sight of his veiny arms making you clench impossibly tighter. He let out a groan, squeezing your neck to restrict your breathing a little.
You could feel your orgasm approaching again, your moans turned into high pitched whimpers, his name leaving your mouth like a mantra as you convulsed, cumming around his cock, milking him dry. He let put a string of curses as his thrusts turned sloppy and uncoordinated before he came inside you, fucking his seed into you until he was spent and slowed down.
The two of you were silent, panting to catch your breath.
“Block your loser ex. I'm the one who's going to make you feel like this. With my mouth. With my fingers. And with my dick. Over and over again.”
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roosterforme · 2 days
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Aim for the Sky Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Somehow the timing was just right, and Bradley's arrival meant he could join you for your appointment. He'd find out if he was having a son or daughter in person, with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget he loved so much.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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"Bradley," you gasped, head tipped back against the pillar that was pressing into your shoulder. "Your duffle is here. I can see it." Actually, it was just going around and around on the conveyor belt while Bradley sucked gently on your neck and slowly bunched the fabric of your dress in his hand over your bump. And just like that, once again, your focus drifted away from the bag as soon as he spoke.
"I'll get it in a minute," he murmured next to your ear. "I'm a little busy."
You were getting side eye from a woman, and a random man was outright gawking at you, but you didn't really care. The airport was busy, but it wasn't enough to make you pull your fingers from Bradley's soft hair or tell him to stop kissing his way back to your lips. His bristly mustache made you sigh when he reached his destination once again, and you let him taste your tongue before you pulled away slightly.
"Roo. We're kind of on a tight schedule." When he just grunted in response and headed for your lips again, you laughed. "Daddy! Let's go see the Nugget."
He seemed to snap out of it a little bit, the desire in his eyes giving way to excitement. "Right. Let's go. I can taste you everywhere at home later."
When he took you by the hand, you had to dig your heels in. "We need your bag!" you said with a smile. Then he led you in the opposite direction and snatched his massive duffle up like it was nothing and tossed it over his shoulder. You had to hustle along next to him as he exited the airport through the sliding doors and headed for the parking garage. It was like he knew you parked near the spot where he totaled your beloved little Honda when he finally got you pregnant on his birthday. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you recalled the details.
He must have seen his blue Bronco in the last row, because he picked up his pace a little bit more. "I don't think we have time for reunion sex yet," he muttered, glancing at you and letting his gaze dip down your body. "But I'll take care of you later. You got along okay without me?"
You let out a little squeak as he tossed his bag in the back and headed for the passenger side door so he could unlock it for you. "Honestly? I haven't been as insatiable since the first trimester ended," you told him, leaning closer to inhale the scent of his deodorant. "At least... I wasn't until right now."
He pulled you close again and tilted your chin up so you were looking at him. "Listen, I'm a little keyed up, and I don't think I can be quick. Can you wait until later?"
"Oh, God," you whined, your skin tingling at the thought of how long he might last for you and how good he would feel. "This is just as exciting as when I felt the baby moving on Halloween."
His brown eyes went wide, and his lips parted in surprise. "You felt the Nugget?!" When you nodded, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"
You just gaped at him. "Seriously? You had your mouth all over mine! How was I supposed to tell you anything?"
"Shit," he hissed and handed you the keys before his hands settled on your belly, drifting around, trying to feel something. "You drive," he said, slowly guiding you to the other side of the Bronco. "I need to work on feeling a kick." 
As he buckled you in behind the wheel, you didn't have the heart to tell him that the baby wasn't even moving around much right now, or that it would probably be weeks before he'd be able to feel anything externally. He was too adorable when he was this excited, and you watched him run around the hood and jump inside like an overgrown golden retriever who had been offered a treat. His eyes were wide as he got himself buckled before placing both hands on your belly.
"Okay. I'm ready to go," he informed you with a nod.
"You sure?" you asked, smirking as you put the key in the ignition. "A minute ago, you looked like you were ready to have parking garage sex again, and now you're all over me and the Nugget."
You shifted into gear, and he whispered, "I'm ready, Baby Girl. I'm so fucking ready to learn what we're having, and if I feel a little kick on the way, it'll be like a cherry on top of the best day."
You paid the parking fee and pulled out onto the main road as you realized you only had about twenty minutes to get to Dr. Morris's office on time. "Don't get your hopes up," you said while Bradley felt you all over. "You probably won't be able to feel anything. It's still early for that."
"Hey, not to be rude, Sweetheart, but I'm actually going to need you to stop talking."
"What?" you asked, so startled you laughed a little bit. "Did you just ask me to be quiet?"
He kissed your cheek while you drove and whispered, "It's just that I can't tell if it's the vibrations from your voice or the baby moving. Please? I love you." Now you were laughing even harder as his big hands moved all around on you. "No, no, that's- see you're actually moving more when you laugh though." He kissed your cheek again as you rolled your eyes and smothered your laughter. "That's better."
When you pulled into the parking lot of the medical complex, your husband's fingers were stroking your belly gently, and when you parked again and looked at him, you saw a few tears in his eyes. "You okay?" you asked softly. 
"Yeah. I'm good. Like really fucking good."
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Bradley was forever wondering when his luck would run out. His life just seemed too good to be true. He was holding hands with his hot, pregnant wife in the waiting room, just buzzing with excitement. In a few short minutes, he was going to find out if he was having a son or a daughter. He wondered if this was how his dad felt in 1984. He wondered if Nick Bradshaw ever wanted to randomly get on his knees for his wife for no reason.
"They called us," you whispered, kissing his cheek before you stood up. Bradley jumped to his feet as well, so deep in thought, he hadn't heard anything. He'd never admit it to you, but this was probably more exciting than the day the two of you got married.
He pressed his sweaty palm to yours and walked past the reception desk at your side. Three short hallways later, and a nurse led you into a large, dimly lit room with huge computer monitors on one wall. "I'm so fucking excited, I might pass out," he said, voice deep and raspy. 
The nurse eyed him cautiously. "Perhaps you should have a seat while Dr. Morris performs the scan?"
He nodded, intercepting the cotton gown before you could take it from her. "That's a great idea. I'll do that."
Once she was gone, Bradley turned to you and started unfolding the gown while you stepped out of your boat shoes. "Are you really going to pass out?" you asked him as you started to pull your sinfully snug dress up your legs.
"Let me do that," he grunted, kneeling on the floor and pushing the fabric up and over your belly. He kissed your tattoo through your underwear, and then he kissed the spot next to your belly button where he always imagined the Nugget was hanging out. "I love you," he whispered before getting to his feet again and pulling the dress up and over your head. You weren't wearing a bra, and your breasts looked so fucking incredible, he wanted them in his mouth.
"You're staring at me," you said, reaching for the gown as you shifted back and forth in place like you were getting cold. "I know I look different. I gained like eight or nine pounds while you were gone once I stopped throwing up all the time."
Bradley let you take the gown from his hands. "Jesus Christ, maybe I really should sit down," he muttered, dragging a chair over next to the table where you'd be sitting in a moment. "And I was just staring at your tits, Baby Girl. You don't look different, you look fucking hot pregnant. God, this is more exciting than when you let me fuck you in the ass."
And that was the exact moment when Dr. Morris entered the room and cleared her throat. "Lieutenant Bradshaw," she said, reaching out to shake his hand as he hovered awkwardly over the chair before standing up again. "It's so nice to have you back with us." You were cradling your head in your hand in embarrassment as he shook hands with your obstetrician.
"Dr. Morris," he murmured. "I only missed the last appointments, because I was deployed. There's nothing else that could have kept me away, I swear."
She laughed and looked between the two of you and said, "Well, we do like a supportive and adventurous partner."
"Roo," you groaned softly as you started to climb up on the table. Bradley turned to help you, and you let him.
"She's a doctor, Sweetheart," he whispered. "She's heard it all."
"That's true," Dr. Morris said as she washed her hands, and you gave Bradley a bland look as you settled back on the table which was bent at an angle that would let you see the monitors. He was so excited, he just kissed your forehead a bunch of times while Dr. Morris asked, "Are we ready to get started?"
"Yes!" he practically shouted while you responded in a much calmer tone. He eased himself down into the chair and looked up at you as he reached for your hand.
"This is it," you told him with a nervous smile. "Any final guesses?"
He shook his head, his attention drawn to the monitors as they came to life. "I don't care one way or the other. I just want to know everything I can about the Nugget." 
Then he took your hand in both of his bigger ones and brought your fingers up to his lips as you said, "Me, too."
Bradley's heart skipped around as Dr. Morris spread the warm gel on your belly, and he had to press his lips together to keep quiet. He'd imagined himself holding a son, and he'd imagined himself holding a daughter. He had thought about names he liked for both. He considered what wild colors he might one day paint the bedroom walls, and he looked forward to it. He thought he'd be good at being a basketball dad or a dance dad or a cheer dad or a soccer dad. And that's why it didn't really matter what Dr. Morris said today. It didn't really matter what his kid was into or not into, because the Nugget was going to be an extension of the two of you. Somehow that equated to perfection in his mind.
"Let's count some little toes," Dr. Morris said, and then Bradley squeezed your hand as two tiny feet appeared on the screen.
"Holy shit," he whispered. There were ten perfect toes on his perfect baby, and he had to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand as you laughed softly in awe. The Nugget would be smart and confident just like you were. Bradley would get the attic taken care of, and he'd put together the jungle gym. He would do every single thing that needed to be done to make a perfect home for this child. He would take care of you every day right now until he was taking care of both of you.
"Now let's check on the fingers."
Ten tiny fingers, attached to the cutest baby he'd ever seen in his life. Bradley took a deep breath and let his forehead rest against your arm as he tried to get himself under control. "Oh my God," he whispered, knowing he'd be able to count those toes and fingers in person next year. He could tickle them and send piggies to the market. He could kiss them and watch them toddle across the living room floor after Tramp.
"Let's just get a look at the heartbeat and a few other things here." Dr. Morris was taking her time, which Bradley appreciated. He liked a thorough doctor, but the anticipation was killing him. 
The heartbeat on the screen had you mesmerized when he looked at your beautiful face, but then you turned to look at him. Once again, he had no idea how he ended up this lucky. "I love you, Roo."
His already blurry vision just got worse as he sucked in a deep breath. "I love you so much." 
This time you brought his fingers up to your lips and kissed him as Dr. Morris added a little more gel to your belly and smashed it down with the ultrasound paddle. "Are you sure you want to find out the sex?"
"Yes!" you said, smiling at Bradley like you fucking knew you were his whole world. Like you didn't mind sharing him with the Nugget from now on. "We want to know!"
Bradley watched your face as you watched the monitor. His fingers on your wrist told him your heart was racing just like his was, and you were licking your lips in anticipation. You were perfect. His life was perfect. His baby was going to follow suit, no doubt about that. A smile found its way to his lips, and his shoulders relaxed, knowing that the next words he heard were going to be perfect, too. How could they not be?
"Congratulations. It's a girl."
The feeling inside his body was something he never knew before. He felt as much love as he had when he listened to you read your wedding vows, but this was something more. He was going to have a perfect little girl. Tears filled his eyes as he realized he was going to get to love and take responsibility for raising a daughter.
"Roo!" you sobbed, reaching for him, and then he was on his feet and kissing you.
"A girl," he said even as he mashed his lips to yours. "A daughter."
He wasn't sure if he felt his own tears or yours on his cheeks as you pressed your forehead to his and asked, "Are you happy?"
It took him a few seconds to get control of his voice as he held your face in his hands. "I'm living the life of my dreams."
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Bradley had tears in his eyes and ultrasound images clutched to his chest as you led him outside to the Bronco. His free hand was clasped tight with yours, and you'd never seen him look so happy in your life. "A little girl," he said, handing you his keys once again, and you already knew what he was going to do when he buckled you into the driver's seat. "We're having a girl," he whispered, brown eyes wide as he kissed your wedding rings.
You nodded and wiped your thumb along his cheek. "It just makes sense somehow."
"It does," he agreed, kissing your lips before leaning down to kiss your bump through your dress. "I love this Nugget," he whispered. "My daughter."
You whined his name as he said those words, and when he looked up at you, all you could say was, "You're going to be the best Daddy, Roo." You thought about it all the time. The way he'd carry the baby around and read bedtime stories. The way he'd always be patient and sweet. You weren't sure if you'd always imagined a little girl or not, but it made so much sense right now.
"Let's go home," he rasped, kissing his way up from your belly until he got to your tender breasts. Technically you were supposed to work this afternoon, at least that's what you'd told Bickel. As Bradley ran around to the passenger side, you dug your phone out and texted your boss, letting him know that the baby was fine, and you'd see him on Monday. 
"What's wrong?" Bradley asked as you tossed your phone aside and started the engine.
"Nothing. Everything is right. I'm taking the rest of the day off so we can spend it together," you replied softly as his hands found their way back to your belly. It had been too many weeks since you'd been touched, and it felt so good, you had to press your lips together to keep from moaning. "I want to spend it with you."
He grunted and kissed the side of your neck as you pulled out of the parking lot. "I'm not letting my girls out of my sight all weekend."
"Bradley," you whined, feeling so much desire for him. The two of you could start talking about nursery decor and girl names and when you wanted to break the news to everyone else. You could do all of those things this weekend now that he was home. But you were also just needy for him.
You made a little noise as you tried your best to go the speed limit, and you knew that your husband knew what you needed. "I'll take care of you, Sweetheart. Don't worry about that. I'll take care of everything." 
He was tracing hearts along your belly, and you turned to look at his slightly lovesick eyes when you stopped at an intersection. "I know you will." You delighted in the fact that you were having a little girl who would get to share all of his love with you. The enormity of Bradley's affection seemed to grow every day now, just like the Nugget, and pretty soon she would be showered in it too.
When you pulled into the driveway and parked in the tight spot next to your red Bronco, Bradley eyed the pallets of jungle gym pieces. "I can't fucking wait to build that thing. I've been dreaming about it for so long." Then he was jumping out the door as you shifted into park, and he was around to your side in an instant. "Been dreaming about this day for ages," he whispered as you climbed down and into his arms. His hands found your lower back as he added, "Been thinking about you and the Nugget since I left."
You smiled up at him. "You know what might be fun, Daddy?"
"What?" he asked, keeping his eyes on yours as he started to lead you up to the porch.
"If you start building the Nugget's playset tomorrow, and you get all sweaty and let me watch," you said, your voice turning into a soft whimper at the end. 
Bradley jammed the house key into the lock, and shoved the door open. He hooked one arm around your waist and pulled you inside with him as Tramp started jumping around like a maniac. "Hey, buddy," Bradley told him with a smile. "I missed you, too. But I need some time with my girls first."
"It's okay," you said as you closed the door behind you. "He probably won't calm down until you play with him a little bit."
But Bradley was pushing you back against the door even as Tramp ran around in circles. "Wait right here," he commanded softly, and lust rippled through you at the sight of his pupils blown wide. "Don't move an inch." 
You felt like you were barely even breathing as you stood very still and watched Bradley lead Tramp past the piano and out the back sliding glass door. "I promise I'll play with you next. I just desperately need to fuck my wife." Then he made his way back to you, his lips set in a determined smirk, and his movements beyond sexy. "I promised I wouldn't leave you hanging."
You closed your eyes as his palm came to rest on the wooden door just next to your head. His warmth was so close, but he wasn't touching you yet as you whispered, "You always take care of me."
His fingers started to pull up the hem of your dress as he crooned, "Why don't you go ahead and tell me how much you missed me."
You tipped your head back until it met the door, and you kept your eyes squeezed closed as you whined, "Couldn't go another day without you." When his lips met your cleavage, your eyes flew open. His lips grazed your nipple through the thin fabric as he slowly knelt in front of you, and you told him, "Your daughter and I missed you terribly."
When he looked up at your face, he pulled your dress up and said, "I'm so in love with you." He ran his lips along your bare belly. "And you." Then he pressed the bunched up fabric against your ribs, and when he said, "Hold this for me, Baby Girl," you did exactly as you were told.
"Yes, Daddy."
"Fuck," he grunted, rough hands on your thighs as he kissed your belly button. "Do you have any idea how perfect you are?" His eyes met yours again. "You asked me if I was happy. I've been happy since I met you. Since you gave me a purpose. Since you let me love you." His hands found the scrap of your white lace underwear and started to pull it down your thighs. "God, I missed this," he murmured, pressing his lips to your pussy as soon as you were free of the lace which slipped all the way down until your panties hit your boat shoes.
"Bradley," you croaked, the second syllable sounding much longer than the first as he licked his way up your slit to the patch of hair that you kept neatly trimmed. He licked along this same path again, this time pressing deeper with his tongue. The third time, he separated you a little more, and then he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently. All the while he kept his big hands on the swell of your belly. "I really missed you."
He responded by kissing your dainty rooster tattoo and burying his face in your pussy. Bradley gently nudged your legs further apart so he could taste you everywhere, and each time you started to buck, he pushed your hips back. You were gripping your dress so tight in both hands, you were afraid you might rip the fabric, but he just kept going in a smooth up and down stripe until you could tell you were dripping wet.
"Yeah, you missed me," he grunted, kissing your tattoo one more time. "I can taste how much."
"Roo."
He got to his feet and cupped your pussy below the swell of your belly, circling your opening with the tip of one finger as he leaned in close. "Will you let me take you to bed and show you how much I missed you?"
Your voice shook as he pushed his finger inside you, just a promise of what was to come if you agreed. "Please!"
Barely ten seconds later, you were on your back in bed, your dress pushed all the way up, exposing your breasts and belly to him. Your soaked pussy was already clenching as the cool air hit your skin, and you watched Bradley wrench his shirt off and unzip his pants. But he didn't penetrate you yet. He pushed on the backs of your thighs so your knees got a little closer to your shoulders, and you whimpered his name.
His eyes were a little wild as he said, "Yeah, I'll take care of everything, Sweetheart." Bradley wrapped his hands around your thighs and leaned down to kiss at your furled nipples, his mustache leaving you squirming, searching for release. "Your fucking tits are huge. My God. And so warm." 
He nuzzled himself against your breasts which were in fact getting to the point where your bras were fitting a little too tight. He sucked and swiped his tongue along, and you let your fingers sink into his hair as he brought you close with his mouth wrapped around one nipple then the other. "Oh my God," you panted, just spurring him on. Because next, his mouth trailed back down to your belly where he whispered and worshipped you.
"I love my girls," he crooned, spreading your legs open wider as you tugged on his hair to keep yourself grounded. "I love you so much."
"Please," you begged softly, and he finally put that mouth back on your soaking wet core. You were about to come, grinding against his lips and his nose, his name falling from you like a depraved prayer. Eventually he paused before filling you with his cock instead. You cried out as he stretched you fully for the first time in so long, and almost immediately he was fucking you to completion. You came hard, your back arching off the bed as you grabbed at his shoulders, but you knew he wanted his share, too.
Bradley fucked you through your orgasm, lips pressed to your ear so you could hear every word he said and every deep rumble at the back of his throat. "You were made for me, weren't you, Baby Girl? And I was made to worship you."
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By the time Bradley came, he was sweaty and babbling like a lovesick idiot. Everything he cared about most was right there in his arms as you took him deep, always welcoming him into your sweetness. The relief he felt was incredible as he finally rolled onto his back, pulling you a little closer as he went.
"I'm gonna be a girl dad," he said with a smile as he looked at the ceiling through his post orgasm haze. "I can't wait."
The slick friction from his cum teased at his leg hairs as your pussy rested against his thigh, and you snuggled up against his chest. "Me too, Roo. I'm so excited to meet her." 
Your fingers teased along his abs, lulling him ever closer to an afternoon nap. He knew that one of you needed to let Tramp back inside, and he was going to have to scrape together something for you to eat soon. But right now, he didn't want to move.
"What happened with your deployment?" you asked softly as he yawned. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now when he knew you were carrying his little girl, but he should have known you'd have questions. 
"It fucking sucked. Being away from you gets harder and harder each time now. They kept tacking on more weeks of these random bombing runs, and the weather was miserable. We had to fly in the rain half the time."
He listened to you hum, contemplating what he said. "It was so scary when you got called to action in the middle of talking to me over FaceTime. I couldn't stop crying. And then it was weeks before some random guy in personnel called me to let me know you were on your way home."
It was hard to believe he was on that flight back to San Diego just a few hours ago. "Honestly, in all of the excitement today, that already feels so distant in my mind," he told you, kissing your forehead as he thought about how long he had been away from you. "We didn't really know we were heading home until it was happening. And it was so late here when we got released, they told me they'd have someone reach out so I didn't have to wake you up again. Then there was only one seat left on the first flight home, and once Payback and I were being airlifted to Hong Kong, they told us to decide who was taking that spot. He gave it to me, no questions asked. Told me to get home to you and the Nugget."
You gasped and murmured, "Reuben is the sweetest."
Bradley chuckled as his fingers grazed along the side of your bump. "Yeah, well, you actually owe him three dozen chocolate chip cookies. That was the only stipulation for the deal."
Your laughter made Bradley's smile grow. "Totally worth it. Actually, since you made it home in time for my appointment, I'll make five dozen for him."
"No wonder everyone thinks I'm spoiled," he told you, tugging on you until you were straddling his hips and looking down at him with your hands braced on his chest. "Fuck. Just look at you." 
His sticky cum was matted in your pubic hair, and your tits looked delicious. There was no way he'd be able to keep his hands away from you now that he'd seen and felt your little bump in person. His daughter was growing in there. He smiled and ran his palm gently over your skin, stroking you with his thumb as your pretty gaze stayed transfixed on his.
"I'm happy you're home, Roo."
He nodded, eye lids growing heavy from jet lag and the time zones, and he simply didn't argue when you kissed his cheek and said you were going to let Tramp inside and then take a nap with him. Soon enough, Bradley was snuggled up in bed with his head resting next to your belly and your fingers tangled in his hair. Your sweet voice lulled him to sleep for the best afternoon nap of his life.
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This has been a very emotional day for Bradley. He's home with his hot wife, and now he gets to start planning for the arrival of their daughter in a few more months! Thank you so much for reading about the Nugget! More to come soon, including the first wedding anniversary! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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loveshotzz · 18 hours
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I guess it’s never really over
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mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers
Chapter Four -
Honey, on your knees when you look at me
The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.
warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.
wc: 10k
authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar
series masterlist | series playlist
songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.
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Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you. 
¨Shit.¨ 
Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch. 
A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm. 
A metal chain.
The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington. 
“No, no, no, no.”
The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee. 
There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do. 
Say no.
You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run. 
You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack. 
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Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest. 
Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.
Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.
Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.
Why is Eddie not here? 
You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward. 
He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.
The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer. 
Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again. 
Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.
”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?” 
The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.
Point one - you.
Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.
Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.
”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.” 
Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.
“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”
“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”
“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.” 
You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.
“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”
It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.  
“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.
”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”
The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.
”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.
“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck. 
”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes. 
Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.
“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”
It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.
“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.” 
The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.
“So!”  You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.” 
Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night. 
“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”
Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole. 
“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”
 “No.”
“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.
”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.
You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.
”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”
The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.
”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”
Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.
”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.
“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”
”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!” 
A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.
”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”
”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.
“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.” 
“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.” 
Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.
”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.
“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”  
Two can play that game.
He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline. 
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.
“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”
Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.
Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.
The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.
His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this. 
“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.
He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.
”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.
“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.
“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.
”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.
Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.
“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”
The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.
“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.
The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.
”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”
Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.
“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”
His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.
“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”
Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.
“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.” 
His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:
”Y- you wish it was that easy.”
Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral. 
“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.
He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.
“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place. 
Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.
When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest. 
His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.
Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.
“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over. 
Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?” 
His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.
“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”
“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”
His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.
Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.
”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”
His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.
The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.
“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”
Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.
He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long. 
Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself. 
”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head. 
The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again. 
“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.
You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more. 
Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing. 
“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.
”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.
He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them. 
Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.
“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”
His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore. 
“I really want it.” 
The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this. 
It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.
“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”
Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights. 
He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away. 
”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”
“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.
“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.
The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.
”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.
”Steve!” 
Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.
“It feels, you feel -“
A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders. 
“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind. 
His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.
”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.
The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth. 
It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.
Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.
”Oh my god!”  You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.
“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.
Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes. 
“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.
Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder. 
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.
A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.
The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.
Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car. 
“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.
“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.
”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.
It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in. 
He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not. 
Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.
”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.
You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps. 
“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”
Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.
“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.
”I told you he’s like 19 - “
”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.
”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.
”I should go before Robin -“
”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.” 
“Steve.”
”Honey.”
The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests. 
“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.
“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.
”I’m not letting you walk home.”
“It’s down the road-“
“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.” 
You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.
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It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.
You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.
”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.
He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him. 
His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view. 
But he never stops.
“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past. 
“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”
Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks. 
“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.
”I think you like it.” 
You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.
”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”
‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’
“Take me somewhere with fries.”
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When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land. 
God, this was not a part of the plan.
“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.
“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.
“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”
You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner. 
“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.
”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.
”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.
”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.
“I can’t stand you.”
It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration. 
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.
The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.
”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.” 
You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.
”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“
”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently. 
”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”
”Steve-“
“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.
“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”
He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.
”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”
He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you. 
Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning. 
It didn’t matter though, he got his date. 
And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.
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🌻chapter five
284 notes · View notes
bangtanflirt · 3 days
Text
(Un)natural Instincts (Part 13)
*Series taglist is closed.
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: SA trauma recovery and boundary setting, recovering from malnourishment, jealousy, hard dom/sub sexual dynamics, dirty talk, rough sex with anal penetration and breath play, mental infidelity (morally grey since packs have a different view of relationships and exclusivity, but characters are feeling guilty about their thoughts)
____
Namjoon takes the white towel from Hoseok’s hand, motioning for the older wolf to sit on the bed and let him dry his hair. He hums as he massages his packmate’s scalp through the towel, smiling at how cute Hoseok looks when he’s relaxed like this. It’s not just the way his eyes flutter, but everything else. It’s only been a few days since he’s been eating proper meals, but that—and the fancy vitamin supplements you’ve been giving him—have been making visible progress in fighting his malnourishment. His face is no longer sunken in and colorless, and his hair has gotten some of its shine back as well.
There are still moments where everything feels dizzy and weird, as his body relearns to enjoy eating, but overall, Hoseok is in a much better place with food.
“You’re getting your glow back.”
The wolf smiles, feeling his almost dry hair, “Feeling a lot better these days.”
Namjoon pulls away from drying to face Hoseok, fingers gently stroking the wolf’s cheek.
“Tae and Jimin told me about the conversation they had with you. I told the others as well. If you say it’s okay, then I’m going to assume it is. I’m trusting you to set your own boundaries, you know that right?”
It’s moments like these where Namjoon shines the brightest in Hoseok’s eyes. Moments where he knows exactly what to say.
“I am okay, I promise. Thank you for trusting me.” This conversation could have gone a different way, and Hoseok was bracing himself for how frustrating it could’ve been.
But Namjoon knows the difference between leading his pack and infantilizing them, and he’s never for a second thought of Hoseok as incapable of making his own decisions. It’s just, most of the time, the wolves want him to make these decisions instead. It makes them feel safe and cared for when an Alpha does all the thinking.
A gentle knock on the open doorframe interrupts the moment, with both heads turning towards you.
“Just the two I wanted to talk to. Can I come in?”
Hoseok nods immediately, while Namjoon nervously goes along with it. He still doesn’t know how to be around you after realizing the extent of his crush. It feels wrong to look at someone else’s girlfriend with the way he looks at you. Especially not when he’s taken himself.
Hence the way he looks everywhere but at you when you sit in front of them.
“I have a proposition.”
Namjoon can’t help the little chuckle that comes out, endeared by how you sound like you’re leading a boardroom negotiation right now.
Your eyes narrow, looking at him with a pout.
“Sorry, you just looked cute.”
The words leave his mouth faster than he processes what he’s said.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Did I really just say that out loud?
The blush on his cheeks is violent red. You don’t seem phased, though, as you laugh it off.
“Hobi, you better hold onto your Alpha before I steal him.”
Namjoon knows it’s nothing more than a joke to you, but the words have him shifting uncomfortably in seat.
Hoseok obliviously smiles, “You can try Y/N, but our Alpha is too head over heels over us for that to ever happen.”
The Alpha gives a strained smile. Of course, nothing could ever tear him away from his packmates—but that doesn’t make him feel any less guilty for what he’s feeling towards you.
“Fair enough. Okay, back to my proposition.”
You hand Namjoon a manilla folder, with the name “Cha Mi-Suk” over it.
“Cha Mi-Suk?”
“She’s a psychiatrist who also provides psychotherapy, and she’s agreed to work with Hoseok—if that’s okay with the two of you. Assuming I’m supposed to ask you both. Or is it just a conversation between Hoseok and I? Or do I need to ask the whole pack. Sorry I’m not--” you can’t help going on a tangent and tripping over your own words.
This whole hierarchy thing was confusing and new, and you wanted to make sure you were doing it right. On one hand, it feels condescending towards Hoseok to have to ask Namjoon’s permission. However, not asking Namjoon feels like you’re dismissing his authority over them. They don’t teach you this stuff in business school.
“Relax Y/N. This is okay.” Namjoon reassures, “Hobi prefers I make these kinds of decisions for him.”
Hoseok nods, peeking at the papers as the other wolf flips through them.
“But how did you get someone to agree to this? Isn’t it illegal?”
Yes, it very much is illegal. Hybrids are only allowed “therapy” in state-sanctioned facilities like adoption centers, where the government can keep the extent of it under supervision. Designed to gaslight and manipulate hybrids until they bottle the trauma down enough to get adopted, rather than working to help them in any meaningful way. It’s not rocket science to see why private practices aren’t allowed: that would mean giving the hybrids a voice, and possibilities of therapists empathizing with them.
Which is why you were as careful as possible while looking into this for the past few days, all with the help of your boyfriend.
“It’s going to be risky to even ask, but I think Cha Mi-Suk is our best shot if we’re proceeding.” Yoongi had said this morning, over the phone.
“I’ll ask.”
“No, let me. You’ve never broken the law before, Y/N. It’s best to keep your hands clean.”
“I can afford to be in trouble. You can’t. And I know I’ve been a stickler for the law, but I don’t think I’ll regret breaking this one. Not when it’s so cruel.”
You remembered Mi-Suk from one of the parties you’d attended in the past, mother to the CEO of a start-up you had helped get on its feet. She would’ve been forgettable if not for the little scene she had caused during dinner—drinking one too many glasses of champagne and reprimanding another guest for being sleazy towards their fox hybrid.
It was an unusual scene at one those events, someone actually defending a hybrid…something you wished you were brave enough to do back then, without caring of what anyone would say or think about you.
You had found her admirable in that moment.
Thankfully, you and Yoongi’s hunches were right, and it took very little convincing (and a lot of money) to get her on board.
“You’re right, it is illegal. That’s why it’ll have to be a secret. It won’t be on any official records, and she’ll never meet him in person. If we go through with it, Yoongi and I will set up a secure private video chat that he can use for weekly sessions.”
Namjoon nods along, scanning all of her information and credentials with a protective instinct.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? Breaking the law for us?”
“If it means Hobi can sleep a little better at night, I’m willing to do anything.”
The Alpha can’t help the way his heart flutters when he hears that. How can he hold himself back when you talk as if his pack is your own? You’re really not making this easy for him.
Hoseok’s eyes have stars in them, finally seeing a glimmer of hope for the future.
“It’s okay with me,” Namjoon concludes, “I think it’d be good for you, pup. What do you think?”
The wolf nods at lightning speed, “I’ll give anything a try! Thank you Alpha! Thank you Y/N!”
___
Yoongi comes home in the evening, singing to himself as he takes his shoes off. It’s hard to keep his tune, though, when there’s a constant soft thud coming from one of the rooms. He follows the sound to your library, where a determined blonde wolf is trying to fix one of the side tables.
“You’re going to split the wood if you hammer the screw that hard.”
Jin jumps up, too lost in concentration to register Yoongi’s cologne fill the room.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Yoongi joins the wolf on the floor, sitting a little too close for Jin to maintain composure. His cologne is inescapable now. A blended scent of maple and chestnut that makes the wolf feel both calm and nervous.
“Can I help?”
Jin nods, handing the hammer over while subconsciously licking his lips. There’s just something about Yoongi that he can’t help but be drawn to…an aura of confidence that’s never domineering—quiet, subtle, yet commanding. It tugs at his heartstrings in ways that’s usually only reserved for his pack.
Even now, he can’t help but want to watch this sight for hours: the way the man rolls up his sleeves and juts his lips out in concentration.
And how he knows just the right pressure to put on the nail…
…the way he shakes his hair out of his eyes.
…and, the cherry on top of the cake: his fucking fingers.
Long and narrow and so goddamn pretty wrapped around that hammer.
They’d probably look just as pretty inside of--
Jin shakes his head, trying to snap himself out of it.
A mix of lust, guilt, and five hundred other emotions he can’t quite name yet all tornado in the pit of his stomach.
Can’t stay here. Can’t be near him right now.
All the alarm bells ring, and the wolf’s body language changes from too stiff to a jittery mess in seconds.
“I—uh—I remembered there’s something I have to do.” Is the most he can muster before almost running out, leaving a confused Yoongi to finish up the table by himself.
The wolf darts straight to where the smell of oranges is the strongest—the scent of his Alpha to replace the one of Yoongi’s cologne. Leading him straight to the bathroom of your home gym. Namjoon’s stripped down to his underwear, getting ready for a post-workout shower, when he gets ambushed with a hug.
“Hi to you too.” The wolf laughs, wrapping his arms around the welcomed intruder.
But then he notices something weird: Jin never hugs Namjoon when he’s all sweaty, so something was definitely off, “Is something wrong, hyung?”
“I need to feel you. Inside of me. And I need to feel it now because I’m going insane.”
Whatever Namjoon was expecting…this was not it. His underwear suddenly feels a lot tighter.
“Okay, that’s the hottest thing I’ve heard in a while, but something’s clearly up…”
Jin doesn’t skip a beat to confess, doesn’t even avoid eye contact as the words come out of his mouth.
“I think I just got turned on by Yoongi.”
Namjoon’s eyes nearly bulge out of his eye sockets.
“You think WHAT?”
Jin crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes to stare the younger wolf down.
“Hey, no judgement. Don’t act like you don’t have any feelings for Y/N.”
If the first statement wasn’t enough to destabilize him, this one knocked the wind right out of his body.
“H-how did you know?”
“You really think you can keep anything from me? I’m your first packmate. I can read your thoughts like they’re written on your forehead.”
Namjoon coughs, face hot and red. This isn’t a conversation he’d ever planned on having. The plan was simple: crush on you for a little while, get over it on his own, never let a single packmate know.
But now, as it lays out in the open, the guilt has him scrambling.
“I can explain…I…”
Jin waves a hand dismissively, “Hush. We can have a rational talk about this later. Right now, I’m telling you, my Alpha, that I was thinking about another man’s fingers inside of me. So, are you going to do something about that or should I keep imagining—”
All guilt and remorse fade away from Namjoon’s eyes, leaving half-lidded dark orbs in their stead. He doesn’t wait for his packmate to rile him up any further before grabbing the blonde by the waist and hoisting him onto the bathroom counter, quite literally ripping off his clothes from his body.
“Now this, this is what I needed” Jin smirks, claws lightly dragging along Namjoon’s bare back.
“God, you’re such a fucking brat.”
Just the word “brat” has the older man whining. It’s been a minute since he’s been called that. Been years since he acted like one. Ever since the youngest three came into the picture, he’d fallen into more of a dominant role in the bedroom, with their omegas being much more needy than his beta. Although they were all more human than wolf—to the point where only the Alpha distinction really mattered—there was still an unspoken shift when omega hybrids joined the pack. Partly a hormonal thing, but more societal. A beta is supposed to help their Alpha keep the omegas happy. That’s just how it’s always been. When it was just him and Hoseok with Namjoon, the betas could act however they wanted with their Alpha. But the moment Jimin first came into their lives, everything shifted. Suddenly, there was an omega in the picture. Then two. Then three.
And unlike Hoseok, who seemed to prefer giving care, it took Jin a little longer to fit into his new role. Granted, it wasn’t difficult at all—how could it be, when he adored the omegas to the moon and back? When it was instinct to dote on them? It wasn’t long before he grew to love their new dynamic, putting his all into spoiling the pups.
But now, as content as he is with his role in the pack, he can’t help the excitement that surges in his veins at being called a brat again. It makes him feel like that young little wolf he was all those years ago, at the bar where he first met Namjoon. He had spent the entire night pushing just the right buttons to get the Alpha riled up, knowing he’d be in for quite the lesson in the back alley afterwards. And he couldn’t have been more right.
The Jin and Namjoon of those days were fiery and hot and burned each other when skin touched skin. But as the burning passion replaced itself with quiet comfort, it seemed as if only the omegas’ scents could get Namjoon riled up in the same way.
Or so Jin thought. Because looking at his Alpha now, it’s as if the pheromones of fifty omegas are calling to him at the moment. All from a little jealousy.
“Same limits? And safeword?” Namjoon makes sure Jin is fully present in the moment, getting him to squeeze his hand as he answers.
Jin nods, “Same limits, red, and tap twice if I can’t speak.”
“Good boy. I’m not going to hold back.”
“I don’t want you to.”
Namjoon brings his face close to the beta’s neck, grazing his skin with the tips of his canines before whispering in the older man’s ear.
“If you think about him even once while I’m fucking you, I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for months. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes Alpha.”
With Jin’s clothes in a ripped up pile on the floor, the Alpha wastes no time in spreading his beta’s hole wide open, circling the puckered rim with his index finger. He laughs at how just this act gets the older wolf’s ears red in embarrassment.
“Fuck, you look so tight. You could pass as a virgin right now. But don’t worry, Alpha will make it fit.”
Every sinful word coming out of Namjoon’s mouth has Jin getting slicker by the second. But even as slick as he is, the first finger still causes him to jolt up, squirming at the intrusion.
His legs flail on both sides of Namjoon, unable to find footing on anything as he’s on the edge of the counter. The younger wolf decides to show a little mercy and push him back against the mirror, letting the soles of his feet find some balance.
It’s the only mercy Namjoon’s going to give, however, because his finger is sliding in and out of the man with unrelenting speed. And just when Jin’s tensing up a little less, body adjusting to the feeling, the second finger thrusts in with even more force.
“Still so tight. Gonna need three fingers to open you up.”
Jin shakes his head, “Can’t—fuck!—Can’t take three. Please, I’m too—ungh—tight.”
Namjoon uses his free hand to grab the wolf’s chin, demanding eye contact.
“Unless you say the safeword, only I decide how much you can take. Understood?”
“U-understood! Sorry Alpha!”
Contrasting his harsh tone, Namjoon’s eyes are dialed in on every movement Jin is making, fully aware of what his body language looks like when he’s at his limits—which isn’t right now.
No, right now he’s just being an absolute brat. And it’s Namjoon’s duty to make sure he fucks it out of him.
The third finger is especially brutal in the stretch, causing tears to pool around his eyes. It’s the best kind of pain, the kind that has him grow more and more slick—until the wetness is running down Namjoon’s hands and it feels like even four fingers could slide in easily. But a fourth never comes.
Instead, his hole is left empty and twitching as Namjoon slides down his own boxers—cock standing deliciously tall and dribbling pre-cum.
Jin closes his eyes, trying to take deep breaths to prepare for the intrusion, but even that luxury is taken from him. Because, before anything even goes near his hole again, the Alpha’s hand wraps around his throat—allowing just enough airflow to keep him conscience.
If Namjoon thought Jin was tight before, it’s nothing compared to now, when his restricted airways only make his hole clench even harder around nothing. It’s not just lust in the air, but a primal need to be as close as possible after three months of becoming strangers to each other’s bodies. Namjoon can’t have his mate forgetting the pleasure only he can give. Can’t have him thinking about any men outside of the pack just because he hasn’t provided his touch in a while.
He lines himself to the entrance, letting a deep growl escape his lips as the head pops in. The blonde’s eyes to widen to the size of saucers at the stretch, throat still too closed off to properly moan.
“Still good?”
Unable to speak, the beta signals a thumbs up sign, giving Namjoon the go ahead to keep pushing all the way in. Only when he’s bottomed out does he let go of Jin’s neck, opting to wrap around the man’s cock instead. Sounds of skin slapping get louder as Namjoon fully loses himself, reveling in the way his length is being squeezed.
The sound mixes effortlessly with Jin’s sultry moans—thankfully, the size of the mansion spares the sounds from blaring throughout the house.
Even if he wasn’t inside of him right now, this visual alone could drive Namjoon wild: his gorgeous packmate, with flushed cheeks and tightly shut eyes, chasing for an orgasm that’s just out of reach. It’s the kind of expression that makes him wish he was a full wolf—one that could give his mate a proper knot. Because god knows what Jin would’ve looked like getting knotted. The thought alone almost makes him lose it. But he calms himself down, mindful of his current mission: making sure the man in front of him is fucked utterly dumb.
“Who do you belong to?”
The wolf doesn’t—can’t—answer immediately, brain too wired from the cock drilling into him. But he manages to let out a whiny, barely intelligible “you.”
“Are you thinking of anyone else right now?”
Jin shakes his head no, almost violently. He barely knows where he is anymore, let alone any other name besides his Alpha’s. All that he can think about are the eight inches of pure bliss hitting against his prostate, and the big hand that’s sloppily stroking his length.
“Words, brat.”
“No! Only you! Only-ungh-you!”
It only takes a few more strokes for Jin to be pushed all the way over the edge, legs shaking as he rides his high, shooting strings of white on Namjoon’s chest in the process. The sight is all it takes for Namjoon’s orgasm to hit in tandem, all of his senses reaching their heights before disappearing entirely—until the only thing he can feel is the pleasure overtaking every nerve in his body. The two stay still for a moment, both fearing overstimulation from any movement as they stabilize their breaths.
It’s Jin who moves first, gently pushing the Alpha off of him. The two watch, mesmerized, at where they separate: the Alpha’s cum slowly leaking out onto the countertop. It’s so much cum.
“You’re lucky I’m back to feeling nice, or I would make you lick all of it up.”
Jin lets out an out-of-breath chuckle, body still leaned against the mirror, “I won’t waste a single drop next time. Promise.” The tiredness catches up to him, causing his eyes to close on their own as Namjoon cleans the mess.
“Come on baby, we should shower.”
“Too tired.”
“You don’t want to go out there all sticky and sweaty, do you?”
Jin whines for a moment, because the feeling of stickiness and sweat are definitely uncomfortable, but he also can’t feel his legs enough for a shower.
“Fine. But you have to carry me.”
Namjoon laughs while lifting the wolf up, letting him wrap his legs around his torso as he makes his way over to the stall. The warm water runs between both of their bodies, washing away every trace of the lewd acts that were just committed. Every trace except the smell of sex that lingers in the air, mixing with the orange and vanilla of the two hybrids. They stay like that for a while, hugging under the water as Namjoon hums a soft melody in Jin’s ear. Eventually, Namjoon does put the wolf down to properly wash him, supporting both of their body weights as the beta still can’t seem to stand.
“Was I too rough? It’s been so long…”
“You weren’t. I loved it. I love you.” Jin punctuates with a kiss, as deep and passionate as the first one they shared.
“I love you too. I’m sorry about Y/N.”
“And I’m sorry about Yoongi. I know you’re not his biggest fan.”
“So…where do we go from here?” It’s a rare moment, where Namjoon’s the one asking instead of answering. But the look on his face makes it clear that he really doesn’t know.
“We keep each other’s secret.”
Namjoon quirks up a brow as Jin further explains, “We keep it between us, manage our feelings, and the pack never has to know. I’m guessing that’s what you were planning on doing anyway, so just add me into it.”
Damn, Jin really did have him all figured out.
“Okay. We’ll keep it between us.”
Fool-proof plan, right?
____
A/N: Don't worry friends, Hobi was NOT listening to that filth. Baby was watching Netflix with Jimin on the other side of the mansion (after excitedly telling him about therapy <3)
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ktgoodmorning · 1 day
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You'll be okay
Alexia Putellas x reader
Part 4 to that awkward smile
You struggle with your concussion recovery but Alexia's there to help you.
A short little one to finish up this series!
I Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I
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The morning after your concussion, you were woken up by the intense pounding in your head, just as bad as it was when you first went down on the pitch. The pain meds given to you by the physios had apparently worn off and now it was catching up with you. You instinctively had buried your face in your pillow as if it could make it all better, letting out a whiny sob that you had fought so hard to hold in. Your girlfriend was a light sleeper and was always even worse after a game day, that combined with your injury, had her barely sleeping at all that night, instantly awake as soon as you made a sound. 
You didn’t notice her wake up until you felt her hand gently running up and down your back as you cried into your pillow. Of course the crying only increased your pain but at this point you couldn’t stop. “Amor, I’ve got you, okay? You’ll be alright.” Her voice was rough from sleep, normally something that would leave you instantly distracted from whatever was going on in your mind, but not able to overcome the pain you were currently feeling, causing you to cry even harder. 
Alexia must have realized that your sudden increase in pain was due to your medication wearing off, as she quickly tried to get up to get you another dose, only being stopped by your tight grip on her t-shirt. “Don’t go, I need you.” It broke her heart to hear the way you cried for her, showing a side of you that she hadn’t seen for many years. 
“I’m just going to get you some more pain meds, I’ll be right back, I promise. I really think it’ll help, okay?” You didn’t really respond, just lightening the hold you had on her shirt so that she could get up while you continued to sob hard in complete agony. 
It felt like ages even though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until your girlfriend returned to your side, water bottle in one hand, medication bottle in the other. At this point you had only spiraled further, gasping for breath as you continued to make yourself feel worse and worse. Alexia knew you were struggling but had no idea how bad it was until she saw you now, somehow even more worked up than when she left you just a few minutes before. “Hey, hey, it’s me. You’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine.” She pulled you over so your head was laying on her lap, allowing her to run her fingers through your hair and try to calm you down. “See if you can take a deep breath for me, I’ve got you now.” 
“I- I can’t-” You continued to gasp for breath, only freaking yourself out more and causing you to start shaking your head quickly, as if you could almost will it all to go away. 
“Hey, don’t do that you’ll hurt yourself, amor. It’s okay, it’s okay, just look at me.” You finally opened your eyes, the first attempt you had made at calming down. “There you go, you’re doing so good. See if you can breathe with me.” The blonde held eye contact with you, taking exaggerated deep breaths in hopes that you would follow her. Her one hand remained on the side of your face, gently stroking it with her thumb, while her other hand laced her fingers with yours, letting you squeeze it as hard as you wanted to help cope with the pain. 
After a few minutes, your breathing had slowed significantly, returning to quiet cries. The second you had slightly calmed, Alexia helped you sit up so you could take your meds, trying to get them in your system as soon as possible. She had never seen you so broken before, and it had left her unsure of just how to help you, especially as she watched you continue to cry, completely helpless. “How can I help you, amor?” Her voice was much softer than you had heard from her before, filled with uncertainty once again. 
“Can you just hold me please and tell me it’ll be okay?” Your girlfriend immediately opened her arms to allow you to collapse into her chest as you still continued to cry, breaking her heart even further over your reaction. 
“You’ll be okay, mi amor. Your head will start feeling better any minute now when your meds kick in. The doctors said, this is the worst of it, remember? It’ll only get better from here, and I’m not going anywhere, I’ve got you.” She rocked you slightly, just saying anything she could think of to make you feel better. 
“It hurts, Ale.” You whimpered into her shoulder yet again as she held you tightly. 
“I know, amor, I know. But it’ll get better, you’ll be okay. Let’s see if you can fall back asleep for a while, I think it’ll help.” You gave her a slight nod, but started to climb off her lap and back to your side of the bed, causing Alexia to scrunch up her eyebrows in confusion. “What are you-” 
“Ale, I woke you up. I know you’d rather get up and make some breakfast instead of laying in bed all day, you don’t have to stay here with me.” She just shook her head at you, while she pulled you back into her arms. 
“It’s okay baby, I couldn’t sleep anyways. You know I barely sleep after games, so do you really think I could sleep knowing you were concussed next to me?” You remained silent, unsure of if you believed her or if she was just being nice to take care of you, but of course she saw straight through your silence. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll be right here. If I fall asleep you can wake me up whenever you want, even if you don’t have a reason to.”
You finally allowed yourself to get comfortable once again in her arms, knowing there was no way she’d take no for an answer. As you fell back to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard her mutter a “te amo” just before you drifted off.
Last one of this series! Would love to hear any feedback or requests for what you'd like to see next!
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mrchiipchrome · 2 days
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You Always Go To The Parties
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W.C. - 5.7 k
okay so this is the project i've been working on for a little, hope y'all like it:) (also listen to American Wedding by Frank Ocean while y'all read this.)
To clarify, this is a lionesses x r series too, but this is literally just the chapter of introduction so that we can get to know the characters.
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“Do I really have to go? I can’t even drink legally here.” You groan, there was nothing stopping you from collecting your things and getting the hell out of that apartment in Boston, well except the manners instilled in you from an early age. There was nothing you’d like more than to crawl up in bed and sleep for the next few weeks.
No way Emma would let you do that. 
The sophomore defender had been one of the only people that had come back to college early, having been asked to show you around the campus and the facilities. She had quickly taken you under her wing, which meant that she wouldn’t let you sulk in bed the rest of August.
Brown cardboard boxes filled to the brim with different things, ranging from clothes to knick knacks, were stacked to the ceiling in the otherwise empty apartment. You didn’t mind, clearly, but it bothered Em.
You tuck your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling from your mattress that was placed directly on the floor. Your button up had the first few buttons undone, the top of your chest displayed for Em to see, you had even put your fancy trousers on for the stupid party you didn’t even want to attend.
“Yes, you really have to. How else do you expect to make friends, your cute British accent will only get you that far, you actually need to put in some effort okay?” Rolling your eyes at her words, you were quickly made to get up off the makeshift bed, getting pushed towards the door.
“But-” 
“No buts, you are going because I need someone to drive me home when I’m black out drunk tonight, you don’t want me to drink and drive right?” You can’t help but contemplate over her words, feeling the girl’s hand come down on your shoulder harshly. 
Clearly she didn’t like that.
“I mean you could just, I don't know…not drink?” She looks at you like she’s disgusted you’d even think about saying something like that, like she has to drink.
“Wow, it really is obvious your parents are rich.” You lock the door up as you look at her through the corner of your eye, a slightly judgemental look in your eyes.
Your parents were rich, but they didn’t spoil you so you weren’t one of those snobby rich kids, you were just like anyone else. Only you had access to more money than most.
“Shut up.” Emma puts her hands up in the air, like she’s surrendering to you, but you see the way she’s smiling slyly at you. Note to self; don’t get defensive when Em brings up your rich parents.
“You know, I could use a new Gucci bag if you want to contact daddy dear.” She looks up at you pleadingly as you make your way to her car, there was no way you’d use your car, it was far too expensive to be left outside a frat house. You really had to get a more beat up one.
Maybe you’d sell it, and donate the money you got for it to charity. 
“Aw, we’re taking my car?” Em whines, clearly she wanted to take your cool car.
“Aw, I’m not leaving my really expensive car outside of a frat house for hours.” You roll your eyes at her almost like she’s stupid, throwing her the keys so that she could drive, you didn’t even know where it was you were going.
“You know, you are really sassy for being a rich kid.” Em pulls out of the garage, the apartment complex you were living in was just off campus, so near that you walked there every day for pre-pre-season training (absolutely destroying Em every single time without fail).
“Yeah well, I grew up in the public education system in London, so that’s where I get it from.” You look on as the girl in the driver’s seat taps her fingers against the steering wheel, waiting for the red light to turn green.
“Really, I would’ve thought that they had you in private school from the second you popped out.” The green light stands out against the quickly darkening sky, starless and rather bleak, but that’s what you get for living in a big city.
“Nope, they wanted me to have a normal childhood, so here I am.” You motion to yourself, feeling the bumps and dips of the road beneath you, damn potholes.
“I mean fair enough right.” A certain quietness envelops the space between the two of you, it wasn’t uncomfortable, just present without any real purpose.
Your eyes slip shut, with Em turning the radio on, playing soft instrumental music like you weren’t in the middle of Boston where most people prefer hip hop and bubblegum pop. That was probably the biggest culture shock you'd been given so far, the music.
At home it was different, in a neutral way. It was neither better nor was it worse, but it was simply different.
You sink into your seat, the cool air blasting across your skin in that refreshing way, the summer’s heat canceled out by the air coming from the car. Slowly, sleep starts to take over your body in that calming sort of way that you’d wished for earlier.
It had only felt like moments since you’d fallen asleep as Em shakes your shoulders to get you to wake up, the pulsing music coming from the frat house a walking distance away already making your ears hurt. You look around at the surrounding nature, it wasn’t familiar to you, not the trees you’d found yourself memorizing nor the architecture present in Boston.
Even the people looked different, shirts with the printing of a dog on the front instead of the three books representing Harvard. Stupid of you to assume that Em would be rational for once.
“Where are we Em?” You ask, voice riddled with a sleepy kind of innocence that suggested that not everything had registered yet.
“We are in Connecticut, home of the huskies and what might be the best parties you’ll ever experience.” Your eyes shoot open wide, a more than flabbergasted look on your face at her naïve words.
“You kidnapped me and then drove me all the way to Connecticut for a party we could just as well have found in Boston?!” You ask her incredulously, like you couldn’t really believe her. And you couldn’t.
“Yeah, technically I did but you’ll also get to experience the party of your lifetime, so I think that it’s fine.” She tries to justify her actions by trying to reason with you, and whilst it doesn’t work in the way she wishes, Emma’s just happy you’re not totally freaking out.
“Come on grumpy, let’s go. Who knows, you might even have some fun.” Em pulls you along towards the house spewing flashing lights in a hundred different colors.
You let your eyes adjust to the blinking lights as you enter through the open front door, seeing the entire bottom floor of the mansion-like house covered with hundreds of students, packed together tightly like a sweaty sardine can.
The house reeks of bad body wash, moldy pits and strong cheap alcohol, and in a sense of the word Em really did tell the truth, you’d never seen anything like it before. It was almost like those frat boys couldn’t afford to buy deodorant.
If your arm wasn’t as firmly attached to your body as it was, you were sure that Emma would’ve torn it off by now, the resistance of the sweaty bodies pushing against your own as she leads you to the kitchen proving to be a difficult task for her weak arms.
Reaching the entrance of the large kitchen, the first thing you notice is that it’s not as tightly packed as the living room, only a few stragglers here and there with the stereotypical red solo cups can be found in every single person’s hand. Future alcoholists.
 “Okay, base rules since you’ve never been to a college party before, don’t take a drink from anyone you don’t know, don’t accept anyone’s request to go upstairs or somewhere private, you’ll most likely get robbed, don’t be too snarky, people don’t appreciate that and… I think that’s all. Have a nice night!” And with that she’s off to the living room, plucking a cup from a random man’s hand and taking a sip before leading him to the dance floor.
Yeah, base rules or whatever.
Standing alone in the kitchen, you suddenly feel so awkward. The only real parties you’d been to were the one’s your friends threw when your parents were away on their stupidly long business trips, just the chaotic friend group drinking together.
So this, college parties, was something that was totally out of your comfort zone and you’d never hated anyone as much as you hated Em right at that moment.
Spotting a boy out of the corner of your eye, you approach him with confident, yet still relatively hesitant steps, a question at the tip of your tongue. He looks up at you when you’re close enough to smell the odor of old spice deodorant and way too much sweat, his hat turned backwards on his head to hide the greasy hair still somehow poking its way through.
You almost feel bad for the poor thing, well that is until his mouth opens and you’re staring into the hell that is a frat boy’s gob. 
“‘Sup dude, what can I do for you?” His eyes run all along your body, from your ankles up to your face where he notices the annoyed expression.
“I was wondering if you had anything non alcoholic.” You smile staley, eyebrows furrowing together when his eyes light up like a kid on christmas. His laugh feels slightly insulting, especially when his hand comes up to point at you, but there’s really not a lot you could do.
“Dude totally, say the thing though.” You look at him confused, like you didn’t know what he meant. Spoiler alert; you did. “Y’know bo'ohw'o'wo'er.” 
He laughs again when you roll your eyes, and even if all you desire is to punch his stupid face in, you still say the phrase. Was it worth it for a coke? Eh, debatable.
He opens the fridge and throws you the can and laughs once more at your dirty look.
Sipping the drink slowly as you make your way around the house, the UConn students around you stare unashamedly at you, like they knew your face from somewhere, but you weren’t familiar per se. 
Your face scrunches up at the metallic taste of the American coke, much preferring the Mexican one they had in the canteen. You couldn’t complain too much though, you were the one who actually let yourself get dragged to the party.
It’s sudden, the way her eyes catch yours. Deep pools of endearing brown that capture your entire soul in a single second. The girl was mesmerizing as she stood leaning against the wall across from you, her long brown hair falling so effortlessly down her back.
Her gaze is just focussed on you for a second or two, her attention soon being stolen by the man standing in front of her, a sleazy smirk on his face as his eyes ran all along her body. It was clear that she was uncomfortable purely by the way her lips were turned downwards and the way her hands fiddled with the hem of her crop top.
There seems to be a lull in their one sided conversation as she looks to you almost pleadingly, getting the hint almost immediately, you walk over with confident steps, dropping the now empty can on the floor on the way.
The man is almost as tall as you, his burly shoulders disproportionate to the rest of his awkward body, his meaty hands gripping the red cup tightly like he was afraid someone would steal it from him. His hooded eyes do a once over when he spots you nearing them, almost turning a green pale at the sight of you.
You don’t understand why, there was no way you knew him and being recognised as Harvard’s newest addition would be unlikely. Especially in Connecticut.
“Everything alright here?” The girl seems startled by your accent, but she quickly schools her features so as to not show her surprise. Her hands wrap around your waist, and when you look down at her she looks back up at you with pleading eyes, asking you to just go along with it for the time being.
Your arm wraps around her shoulders and she leans into your body almost subconsciously, like you’ve known each other for much longer than you have.
“Yeah, everything’s going good.” He says, not backing down despite having been nervous at your mere presence only seconds before.
“Really? Because from where I stood it looked like you were flirting with my girlfriend.” You don’t even get the satisfaction of watching his gummy smile fade from his thin lips as he takes in your words, because he walks away from you before you can see it.
It makes you chuckle, especially since he walks up to another girl almost immediately, getting turned down in the same second.
“You okay?” You question the girl in your arms, her hand still resting on your waist as you take her in. You can feel her hair against your arm, her nails digging into your skin ever so slightly and the rest of her body pressed so tightly against your own.
“Yeah, he just wouldn’t leave me alone, thank you for the help.” She smiles at you sweetly, her brown eyes shining under the flashing lights. You smile back at her softly, noticing the way her grip loosens, you quickly let up on your grip of her shoulders.
Her unsure steps catch your attention as she takes your hand in her soft one, just like Em had done earlier in the evening.
“Where are you taking me?” You laugh through the sentence as she tries to pull you through the crowd of people, stumbling over her feet clumsily every so often.
“Do you like burgers?” She questions hastily, nearly having pulled you all the way to the front door already, she was a lot stronger than Em that’s for sure.
"Doesn't everyone?” You smile goofily when she looks back at you, her eyes narrowed playfully when you send her a wink. It’s only when you’re already out the door that you realize that Em is still in there, with people you don't know. Strangers.
You stop walking, the girl’s hand still in yours as she too stops, looking back at you confused.
“I’m sorry but my friend, Em, is still in there and I don’t want to leave her alone with strangers.” Her eyes light up again and you look at her weirdly, not understanding why she looked so happy that you had to leave.
“Em Whitmore?” She giggles at the shocked look on your face, clearly you didn’t know much about Em, the girl thinks to herself. You look at her suspiciously, how did she know Em?
“Yeah…how’d you know?” You ask her, still suspicious of her pretty intoxicated form. Her laugh carries all throughout the empty night, no one out and about except you and the mystery girl who’s soft hand is still in yours.
“I know her brother, she comes to a lot of parties here, because she knows she’ll be safe.” The brunette starts pulling you along again and you let yourself follow her, no longer worried about your Harvard counterpart. Her brother wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
By the time you reach the 50’s themed diner, you’ve already walked for ten minutes, side by side with the dark haired girl. You’re lucky that it wasn’t too far away, the half stumbling girl beside you probably wouldn’t have been able to walk that far without falling over.
The bell at the top of the door chimes when she pushes it open, the bored looking cashier perking up when he sees your companion. It was empty in the diner and you couldn’t imagine that keeping it open for this long wasn’t only for the drunk college students looking for a quick snack.
She drags you over to a booth in the corner, decorated in red and white stripes, a glass with straws standing in the middle of the table with a napkin holder beside it.
“Welcome to Donna’s Diner, what can I get for you?” The boy from the counter comes up to the booth after you’ve both settled, handing the two of you plastic menus. The dark haired girl smiles up at him, that fantastic glint in her eye once more.
“Come on now Alex, no need to be all professional.” You look up at him from where you’re sitting, his blonde hair curling around his ears, green eyes staring into yours kindly, thin fingers clasping the small notebook in his hands.
“Alex, this is my new friend, she knows Callum’s little sister, mystery friend, this is Alex and he’s in one of my classes.” You smile at him softly, sticking your hand out for him to shake, and he does take it in a confident grip, sending you a smile of his own.
“I’m Y/n.” Now the mystery girl looks up at you, finally a name attached to your face.
“Nika, I already know what you want, but how about you?” He looks to you when he speaks, obviously you wouldn’t know what to order, it being your first time there and all.
“I’ll just have whatever she’s having with a chocolate milkshake.” Alex disappears behind the counter again, your eyes following his retreating form. Looking away from the kitchen door, your eyes quickly meet the ones of the girl you now know as Nika.
One of her hands was tucked under her chin, keeping her head up in order to look at you. Relaxing into the cushions behind you, the small smile slowly taking over your face suddenly becomes full blown.
“What is it?” She giggles under her breath at your inquisitive look, and despite not knowing much more than her name, you already felt like she knew your soul inside and out.
“Nothing…it’s just that this is the last place I would’ve thought that you would bring me to.” The furrow in her brow is frankly quite adorable, her head turning to the side just in time to catch Alex walking out the kitchen with your food. 
You see the way her eyes light up again, the platter of pure greasy goodness at the center of her attention right at that moment. All you could think about at that second was how thankful you were that the season hadn’t started yet, because everything there broke every single diet you could think of.
Looking to the brunette, the laugh bubbling up from the pit of your stomach is almost one of wonder, because the beautiful girl had already managed to get through half the burger that was in front of her. It seemed like her intoxicated brain only was focussed on one thing, satiating her hunger.
It isn’t long until you follow her lead, picking up the burger and just trying to get the most you could of it in your mouth. You can’t help the groan that escapes you when the exquisite flavours hit your taste buds all at once, having to lean back into the cushions of the booth to be able to take it all in, closing your eyes fully to enhance the experience even further.
It’s only when she laughs that you finally open your eyes again, only to see her looking right at you like you were made of glass, like she could read you like a book and then play you like a fiddle.
“I understand, I had the exact same reaction when I tried it.” She continues to giggle at you when you start to eat like a poor man starved. It was a funny sight to be fair, the way your fancy act completely disappears when in contact with amazing food.
“How’d you even find this place?” You question her when you’ve swallowed and wiped your mouth off with a napkin, you still had manners after all. She smiles at you, gesturing at your surroundings, at the tables and the booths, the chairs and the ketchup bottles, at everything.
“I was drunk after a party once in freshman year and I just stumbled across it.” You nod in response, completely understanding the randomness of how she’d found the place. When you’re drunk, all you want is some greasy food.
“So it’s a well guarded secret between the students then? I assume there’s usually more people here at this time of night.” You take a sip of the milkshake when the last word has fallen from your lips, heat spreading across your face at the intense look you’re getting from the brunette in front of you.
It’s probably just because she’s drunk, you think quietly to yourself, almost trying to convince your mind that the stupidly attractive smile on her face was just one of momentary value, that it was only because it was late and you were tired that it affected you in the way it did.
“Yeah, something like that.” She responds, a comfortable silence enveloping you two as you continue to eat.
The only thing that could be heard was the murmur of the fan across the room, the patting of the fingers of the boy, Alex, at the counter and the sound of shallow breathing. Well that was until her accented voice breaks it with a question.
“So, how’d you manage to befriend the girl with the scariest brother ever?” Nika asks you, her fingers playing with the napkin she’d taken only moments before. Her teeth capture her bottom lip softly as she looks at you tentatively, she’s positively driving you nuts with her pure unfiltered beauty.
“Well, for starters we both play football for Harvard, but she was the first one there to greet me, to help me pack up the necessities and all that. She never did mention a brother though.” You relish in the way she looks at you, all flustered and sweet despite you not having done anything in particular. It was adorable. Pause.
She nods absentmindedly, opening her mouth to speak before closing it and then opening it again, resembling a fish out of water more than anything.
“Were you going to say something love?” You ask the now blushing girl, and she hides her face in her hands at the embarrassment, clearly having zoned out for a little while there.
Reaching over, you pat her shoulder comfortingly before you ask her your next question.
“How about you? How do you know Em’s brother?” Nika reaches over the table to steal a few of your fries, laughing at the betrayed look on your face.
Maybe it was the drinks or maybe you were just funnier than you’d originally thought, either way the angelic sound of her laughing had graced your ears many times that evening. Not that you minded, you didn’t even mind a little bit.
“He plays basketball, I play basketball, and sometimes we train together.” You can’t help the feeling taking over you, the burning feeling that makes you question everything you’d ever known about yourself. Just the thought of your friend’s brother getting to enjoy her company makes the feeling inside you that much worse.
 It seems like she sees the way your expression changes just that little bit before it goes back to normal.
“So, you’re like…close?” You ask the basketball player timidly, rolling your eyes only seconds later when the brunette decides to take a sip of your milkshake.
“No, not especially close. I mean, we talk when we have to at the shared training sessions, but not outside of it. But realistically though, who in the world of college sports doesn’t know Callum Whitmore?” Looking at her cluelessly, you sarcastically shrug as if to say you, because you truly hadn’t known a single thing about the man before she had told you.
By the third time Nika reaches for your fries, you decide to just push them towards her and let her have them, you weren’t even hungry after the monster burger you’d just consumed. It wasn’t at all just because she was too pretty not to get whatever she wanted. Pause.
“You want to switch?” She gestures to your drinks, she’d gotten a strawberry milkshake that she didn’t seem to fancy all that much right at that moment. Sighing goodnaturedly, you give her a nod and allow her to take whatever was left of your shake, smiling softly as you sip absentmindedly at the pink shake she’d given you. 
Soon enough, the only thing that could be heard over the natural noise of the diner was the slight slurping every so often.
“I just got to go wash up, then I’ll walk you home, okay?” The brunette nods as she looks at you leaving, pulling out her phone to seemingly start to text someone not long after.
You walk up to Alex, who’s still standing at the counter and he smiles in your direction when you near, only seeing you out of the corner of his eye. Pulling out your wallet, you hold out your card to him.
“Could you do a to go order? God knows she’ll need that in the morning.” You nod your head in Nika’s direction, Alex smiling widely at you.
“You know, I’ve never seen her with you before…” His voice trails off, as if to tell you to fill in the blanks.
“Yeah, we only met tonight.” You smile at him staley, not understanding why the timeline of events was so important.
“You must be special then if she brought you here, it’s not often she brings anyone other than her friends here after a night out. Nico, drop me two burgers on the grill, one choc milkshake and a strawberry one.” As you walked towards the bathroom of the establishment, putting your card back in your wallet, you started to think about his words, wasn’t this place well known? What made it so special to Nika that the server had to point out how she never brought strangers there?
Wiping your hands off on your trousers, you go up to your table to collect Nika before swinging by the counter to pick up your to-go order, the brown paper bag looking out of place next to the two of you. It seems like she’s sobered up at least a little as she looks at you questioningly, her eyes soon falling to the bag in your hands and then back up at your face.
The bell chimes again when the two of you exit the diner, the cooling air of the late night a contrast to the warm atmosphere of the diner.
“What’s that for?” The furrow in her brow is so endearing that you almost feel the skip in your heartbeat, her eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. Her arm threads through yours, one of your hands in the pocket of your trousers, creating the perfect space for her arm to go through.
You sneak a glance at her, flyaways being highlighted by the streetlights you were passing. Her head meets your shoulder as you start to walk back to the party, her apartment couldn’t be too far from it considering she hadn’t mentioned anything when you offered to walk her home.
“It’s for you, I just know that hungover Nika is going to crave Donna’s diner’s milkshakes to calm her raging headache.” You tease her softly, but there was definite truth there either way.
If there was one thing you knew about being hungover, then it was that good food usually helped at least a little (well, after the spells of throwing up everything from the previous night.) You give her a cheeky smile as you near the party once more, the booming music being heard from miles away. 
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” She speaks sincerely, you just smile at her in response, did you have to do it? No, but she’d kept you company all night so you did it anyway.
“Hey, can I just stop by my friend’s car before I walk you home? I just have to get something.” You were so thankful that you’d stolen the keys from Em before you went into the party only hours before. Leading her to the beat up truck, unlocking it and opening the door, you place the bag on the ground before you look through the glove compartment.
Finding the cartridge of painkillers and the pen that you were searching for with a small ‘aha’. The post-it notes Em always kept in her car finally came to use when you stole one, writing a quick message on it before sticking it to the plastic of the painkillers and dropping it down the brown paper bag.
You lock the car up, despite it being a piece of shit that no one would ever steal, Em always insisted on you locking it. 
Walking up to her side once more, you open your mouth to speak.
“So, lead the way home love.” You gesture for her to take the lead, it was her apartment after all. Taking your free hand in hers, the girl starts to lead you towards her apartment building, walking calmly side by side with your hands swinging between your bodies.
After passing countless trees, and even more cars, you suddenly find yourselves at the bottom of the slanted hill leading up to where she lives, and when you actually start to walk up the long walkway, it’s slowly almost like you’re both resisting the natural order of events.
But you had to leave her, both Em and Harvard were waiting for you and no matter how much you tried to resist, you knew that’s ultimately where you had to go, it was your life even if the girl you’d just met seemed far more interesting than anything.
When you reach the top, just meters away from the door, you hand her the bag, smiling timidly when she reached out to hug you, her inviting perfume enveloping you in a blanket of warmth. When she pulls away, she thanks you one last time for your kindness.
“Really, it’s no problem.” You reassure her, smiling softly when she turns back towards you one last time before the distance between you becomes larger and larger, her fingers soon punching in the code to open the door.
“Wait!” You call out for her right as she’s about to enter the building, her head turning back to you questioningly. “Don’t forget to put it in the fridge when you get in.” She smiles and nods before disappearing behind the door.
You start your walk back to the party a few minutes after the door has closed, something just keeping you rooted to the ground. It wasn't until you heard your name get called by that familiar voice that you turned around, seeing Nika through her open window, waving at you as you walked away.
It almost felt like you were in some cheesy romance movie as you waved back, turning to walk away after she closed her window. 
Truth be told, the evening had felt like something straight out of a romcom and some part deep down loved it. It loved the cheesy moments of pure unbridled love, the ability to express yourself freely, to dance in the rain, be your true authentic self in front of someone else was something you didn’t even know you longed for before you met Nika.
You shove your hands into the pockets of your trousers, every step you take moving you closer and closer to the frat house, closer to Em and closer to getting back to Boston.
Seeing Em sitting out on the steps of the house has you confused, why was she out there?
“Em? What are you doing out here?” You ask the clearly incredibly intoxicated Emma, your loud voice not even startling her, her slow movements showing just how drunk she is. The squeal she lets out when she sees you has you covering your ears, the intrusive sound killing your tired head.
She tries to stand up, but it just looks like Bambi on ice, stumbling and falling at every second. You come up and sling her arm around your shoulder, bringing her over to her car and sitting her down in the passenger seat.
“I’m not cleaning up if you throw up in here, just so you know.” She nods drunkenly, clearly not understanding a word you were saying.
“The reason why I was sitting outside is a long story.” She leans her head against the window, and knowing Em, she was probably imagining herself in a music video right at that moment.
“You can tell me tomorrow.” The car starts with a rumble and you pull out of the parking space on the side of the road, quickly pulling out and starting to drive on the main road.
It’s quiet for a while and you almost believe that Emma’s asleep, well almost since her feet move back and forth against the floor every so often.
“Where were you huh? What were you doing?” Her words are incredibly slurred and you can barely make out what it is she’s trying to say.
“None of your business mate.” She snickers at you, reading way too much into your response than she should have.
“You got some.” The way your face turns red doesn’t help your case even in the slightest, especially when she herself points out your reddening cheeks.
“Shut up and go to sleep, Em.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, still embarrassed by her insinuation.
“Mhm, you totally got some pussy.” You sigh as she laughs again, she was clearly getting a lot more joy from the situation than you were.
“Go to sleep Em.”
“Mhm.”
Maybe she had been right after all, maybe you had fun and maybe, just maybe the decision to go to the party was a good one. Not that you’d ever let her know that.
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withleeknow · 3 days
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how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin
pairing: jisung x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, mentions of periods bc duhhh erhm note: ok so i'm REALLY not sure what this is lmao but i switched up entirely compared to the first installation (with minho) and i think this is the format i'll be sticking with for the rest of the members. i'm still just experimenting and trying to figure how i want to approach doing drabbles/drabble series like this so pls bear with me a little for now lol
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi
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jisung, who can't be trusted with even the simplest of tasks. you should've known better. (and honestly? you did know better, which probably makes the whole thing so much worse.)
jisung, whom you ask to run to the store just because you were too lazy to brave the evening chill yourself and get the shit you need.
jisung, who texts you what size pussy u wear? while he stands in the middle of the aisle, feeling like he's illiterate as he's surrounded by products of different colors and shapes and sizes and wings.
jisung, whose eyes catch a specific pink packaging with pretty flowers that makes him pull out his phone and snap you a picture. this one looks better. yours is boring, he'd text you, to which you'd replied with a dozen question marks before calling him an idiot and telling him to leave the fancy pads and hurry home with the ones you usually use.
jisung, who returns about thirty minutes later holding two large bags in his hands, which definitely contain a lot more than what you had sent him out for - just a pack of overnight pads and some sweets.
jisung, who kisses you in greeting as your eyes narrow suspiciously, then he'd proudly show off the goodies that you didn't need - an assortment of sour candies and chocolates, chips, ice cream bars, your favorite cookies, and lastly, a random purple pouch.
jisung, whose love language looks a lot like making you get diabetes whenever your time of the month rolls around.
jisung, who beams like a kid in a candy store when you ask him about the pouch with a brow raised. "look!" he'd beam, holding the little thing up like it's the most magical invention he's ever come across in his entire life. "it holds your pads! and it has unicorns on it!"
jisung, who doesn't deflate at all when you tell him that you already have one, but instead, he'd tell you to ditch the one you have because it's too "boring" (re: it doesn't have unicorns.)
jisung, who volunteers to carry the pouch for you the next time you go out together, musing to himself about whether or not he should add a little strap so he could wear it like a crossbody bag, not even batting an eye when you stare at him and gape in disbelief.
jisung, who really uses your shark week as an excuse to buy dumb shit for himself and stuff you full of treats.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.04.2024]
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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 days
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Adam x third spouse part 3 I’m begging pookie ❤️
like a time skip to when Charlie appeared and proposed the idea
Benifit of the doubt Pt.4
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Warnings: General Adam TW’s, a little bit sad for a moment but it’s ok. Gn! Reader! honestly that’s about it I think?? Wow this is the first time it’s been this short in this series.
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.
Request Box: Open
Word Count: 4617~
A/n: So… it’s been almost 2 months… whoops. In all seriousness though I’m sorry it’s been so long. I’ve just not been in the mood to write and a lot of stuff has been happening (which is finally over) and I’m glad I could finally post this. I was also, if I’m honest, nervous to post this, cause I’m not sure if everyone’s ready for the direction of the story. But I have made it clear that I wanted to do a time skip to the show at somepoint and decided to do it now! If you enjoy this, please let me know cause I’m really nervous about (Not my words of affirmation love language coming out-) ALSO to the requester, I know you said part 3, but I used it for part 4. I got your request as I was making part 3 soooo my bad. Hope you don’t mind tho <3 this will be the last part before the angsty finale (and maybe an epilogue)
Reblogs are always appreciated!
Anyways this was NOT beta read unfortunately, I tried to get as many errors out during the writing process so hopefully it’s fine. Also, there’s probably some words I might have wanted to italicize or make bold that aren’t, but I’m too tired to care honestly.
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn @ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che @edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee (if I forgot someone or you want to be added just tell me !!)
Days turned to weeks, to months, to years. Until eventually an eon had passed. An entirety filled to the brim with an indescribable happiness and love, threatening to spill over at any given moment. You loved Adam and Adam loved you.
To say it was all happiness would be a lie, there were some moments of sadness and pain, but all relationships were like that, even ones that lasted for eternity. You both always bounced back, apologize and moved on with a stronger bond than before. And you loved every second of it.
A lot has changed in these last few eons. Adam formed a band and is now the most popular guitarist in all of heaven. You both made new friends, some got into heaven while others were made there. Emily was one of these people to you, she looked up to you for being older than her. You’ve existed for almost all of human existence so, of course she’d look up to you.
Adam had also made new friends, his band members, some officials in heaven, but someone he’s grown close to recently was Lute. You're really happy about his friendship with Lute. She seems like a strong and loyal friend, someone that can keep him grounded while still encouraging him to be more himself. Overall, you really liked her.
How they became friends though is something… less tasteful for you. All the way back when Heaven and Hell had their first meeting on what to do with the surplus of sinners in hell causing an uprising. Neither side came to an agreement in the end, you do feel partially to blame for that, but you still stand by what you did.
You never returned to any of the follow up meetings
But Adam did, surprisingly to you. In the end, you were called to talk with Sera and Adam. You were told of the agreement between Heaven and Hell, about the yearly “cleanse” that Adam and his “Exorcists” would have to commit. At first you were shocked, sure, you didn’t have the best experience with sinners and especially with the rulers of hell, but was death really necessary? You didn’t know what to say, and Adam clearly saw this.
“Babe, you alright?” He puts his hand on your shoulder rubbing his thumb in circles. You place your hand on his.
“Yeah it’s just a lot to take in. Are we sure it has to be done… that way?”
Sera looked down in pain “they’re… uprising and are becoming to much of a threat to heaven.”
You sighed as Adam took you in his arms. Adam was fully aware that you don’t share the same sentiment towards sinners as he does. His hatred towards the unholy souls down in hell was brought about by events that you simply cannot understand. Which he is thankful for, he never would want you to experience what he did.
“If there isn’t anything else we can do then… I guess we have no choice. But I don’t want to… kill anyone, even if they are sinners.”
Adam holds you closer “You won’t have to,” you smile at him, the now familiar flickering of his LED mask meeting your gaze before softly frown “you ok?”
You nod, “yeah, just…I wish there was another way.”
-
That was it. Adam would take his exorcists down to hell to kill as many sinners as they could each year. Adam knew you didn’t want him to talk about it , he kept it as separate as he could from your life. You did have to attend meetings regarding it, as one of the very few people to know about it, that was your duty.
You were fine with having that part of the job. You weren't sure if you could kill someone, sinner or not. So, for the countless years to follow, you played your part with every new extermination, attending meetings to deal with the repercussions of each cleanse.
Adam would also have to attend the occasional meeting. Which is exactly what today was. Sera had called you both in to talk.
“Thank you both for coming. I have to inform you that you will be attending a meeting tomorrow.”
Adam groaned “What! Again? This is like the 4th fuckin’ one this week! Ugh fine! Where is it this time? halo city? Cherub towne” Adam’s voice mocked the locations you’ve both been sent to countless times with a high pitched voice. Even you have to admit that the meetings could drag a bit.
Sera's face turned into a slight grimace as she looks away from you both, she sighs and continues “The meeting will be in… hell.”
“What!” Both your voices raise in shock
“Sera, you know I don’t want to go down there again!”
“Why can’t you just send the other fucking dipshits who know about-“ Adam crossed his arms defiantly
“Stop,” Sera raises her hand toward you both “no one wants to go there, and I know you both especially don’t.” She pauses “But you both are the only available angels who know of the cleanse that aren't busy. Please… I understand your disdain but heaven’s business comes first.”
“Who are we even gonna be talking to -Wait a damn minute- Don’t fucking tell me we have to talk to him.”
“I'm sorry…” You all sat in silence for a moment before Sera begins to speak again, “But you both won’t have to worry about physically being there, we have prepared holograms for you, so neither of you would be in any danger.”
“I'll have an Angel escort you to the ‘meeting’ room tomorrow, please, get some rest. I’m sure you both have had a long day.”
With that, you and Adam went home, you were definitely not feeling well about the meeting, but the fact you wouldn’t actually be there calms your nerves a bit. You had to be a little honest with yourself, hell wasn’t really the issue for you, it was more so the people. Lucifer for one, that made you feel uneasy.
The next morning, you and Adam got ready, you had to motivate him a little. He was clearly not excited for this meeting like you. The entire way there he held you close, even though nothing could have hurt you it made him feel better knowing how close you were.
On the way there, you also got Adam some ribs, his favorite. You thought it would help his nerves a bit. Turns out, Lute was the one Sera assigned to escort you both there. That also made you both a little calmer knowing a mutual friend would be there.
The three of you waited in the ‘meeting’ room for a while, about an hour. At first you thought the meeting might had been canceled or moved and you just weren't told. But then, Lute walked up to you both.
“Sir! The Seraphim has told me to inform you that there’s been a change in plans!”
“What? The fucks that mean?” Adam said stuffing a rib into his LED mouth
“Lucifer won’t be attending the meeting, instead… his Daughter will be here in his stead.” Lute’s mask showed a continuous frown and stern expression as she spoke.
“Daughter?” Your voice shook a little. This was news to you, as long as you’ve existed you had never heard he had a daughter while in hell. You look over to Adam to see His LED eyes were wide in shock but his mask turned into a smile as he sighed.
“Phew boy, we sure dodged a big ass bullet, huh Sweetcheeks?” He laughed as his arm pulled you closer. The whole thing caused you to join in. Suddenly your nerves felt a lot better than before.
“When should she be arriving, Lute?”
“Within the hour.”
-
Adam scarfed down another plate of ribs as you all wait for the “princess of hell” to arrive. The entire time you just had to wonder what kind of person she’d be. The daughter of Lucifer and Lilith. The more you thought about it, the more bizarre it seemed.
But suddenly your thoughts were interrupted by the sliding doors opening to the meeting room and a girl steps in, asking if anyone is there.
“She can’t see us?”
“Yeah, Sera gave me a long ass lector on how this stuff works before we got here. Let’s see here…” Adam pushes a button causing a click to sound out as he says “Sup!”
The girl jumps back and falls to the floor, shocked by Adam’s sudden appearance in the room. She introduces herself as Charlie. Adam offers her to shake his hand, only for it to go through.
“Ha! I fuckin’ got you! Did you fucking see that? Good shit.”
You let out a slight laugh, as you sit and watch the meeting happen. Well, you say “meeting” but nothing about it seemed very professional. Adam for the last hour (you honestly wasn’t sure at this point) had been talking about the most random of things.
You or Lute occasionally shakening your head yes or no while listening to him, while Charlie seemed quite tired already. Not that you could blame her, people who weren’t used to Adam’s banter definitely weren’t cut out for it. But You love every word that comes out of his mouth.
Eventually Adam decides that it’s time to get into what you all came here for. Pulling out a bunch of papers, Charlie begins explaining her solution to hell’s overpopulation. You were only really half listening at first, at least before she mentioned that her solution could stop the extermination which peaked your interest.
She explains her “Hazbin Hotel” and its purpose to rehabilitate sinners, you wanted to hear more of it but Adam cut her off.
The meeting didn’t really go that well, At least for Charlie. But the whole thing left quite the impression on you. The idea of ending the extermination was stuck in your head for so long, and now you had someone who had an alternative.
“Adam, are you sure that it couldn’t have worked?”
Adam looks at you in surprise “What? Do you think that shitshow could have actually worked?” He laughed as he placed a hand on your back. “Don’t even pay it any mind, alright Babe?”
“I know, it’s just… you know I don't like the extermination. So another way to lessen the population of hell should at least be looked into.” Your voice was soft enough to barely hear.
Adam’s gaze softened but he didn’t say another word, only wrapping his wing around you pulling you closer. You lean towards him, snuggling into his soft robe. No matter how much you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t. You needed to do something, anything.
So that night, after Adam fell asleep, you asked to talk with Sera. Leaving a note for Adam saying you went to buy something just in case he woke up.
“What is troubling you?” Sera’s voice was clear and concise.
You looked toward the ground, your nerves feeling tighter than ever, as you struggled with how to put your words together. “You're aware of all that happened in the meeting with Lucifer’s Daughter, right?”
Sera nods her head “of course, all meetings are documented about as they happen.” She tilts her head slightly “What about it?”
“Well!” You steel yourself before continuing “I would like permission to observe Charlie Morningstar’s ‘Hazbin Hotel’”
Sera’s eyes widen, breaking her calm demeanor before giving a firm “No”
“But-“
“It’s too dangerous for you to be there, Adam wouldn’t want that anyways”
“He would listen if it was an order from you!” Your eyes felt watery but you continued “Please Sera… I know you don’t want the extermination to continue. Just let me do this!”
Sera looked away from you, her feelings evident on her face, any mask now down. ‘Just a little more’ you thought
“Sera, I promise you, I’ll be careful! We don’t even have to fully support them yet, just let me observe them. It would be devastating if so many souls parish if we failed to seek all options!” You beg
Sera sighed, shakingly “…I’ll see what I can do.”
Your eyes gleamed up at the tall woman “Sera, thank you, thank you!” You wanted to hug her but out of courtesy, you advised against it.
Sera tells you that she can’t guarantee anything but she will try as she sends you home to rest.
-
A few days past after that and you haven’t heard anything from Sera. It was a little worrying and felt like a bad sign to you. That was, until you were informed by Sera that your request was accepted!
“But.” Sera stops you before you can celebrate “You're only there to keep track of the progress and to make sure nothing is happening under our noses” You nod your head in understanding
“Also…” she pauses “If anything involving this hotel happens, you will have to take full responsibility, understood?”
You nod again “yes I understand. Have you… told Adam yet?”
She shakes her head
“Ok… can you… not tell him it was my idea, please. I don’t think he’d agree if he knew.”
Sera sighs before nodding her head “Very well, I’ll tell him after you leave”
“Thank you.”
-
You return home, when you got back Adam was already gone, Sera must have already called him to the office. You dreaded when he got back. You didn’t want to see him upset, it hurt you to know how worried he was for you.
A few hours later, Adam comes through the door in a panic. He stomps up to you and pulls you into a warm and intense embrace.
“Don’t go down there. I need you here with me” his voice hitches as his wings wrap around you both, curling you both into a warm and feathery ball.
“Adam…” you paused, was this really the best thing to do? No, It had to be. If this goes well, not only will the extermination stop but Adam wouldn’t have to go down to hell ever again.
“Adam, you know I can’t go against Sera’s orders.” You kiss his cheek “and I won’t be gone forever, I’m only supposed to be there till the next cleanse. Not to mention, I’ll always come back to see you.”
Adam grumbled a little “I know, I just… don’t like you being in the same place that bastard is, and in his brat’s stupid hotel! ”
You laugh softly “Adam…” grabbing his hand, you put yours in it, showing off the gold ring on your finger “I’ll never forget my promise. You know that, right?”
Adam looks at the ring, the gold wrapped around your finger with a perfectly snug fit. Everytime he looked at it was just a reminder of your love for him. That promise was something he could never forget. He slowly raises your hand to his LED mask, kissing the back of it. “Of course not.”
“Good. I promise I’ll be fine, ok?”
He nods. Hand in hand, you slowly lead you both to the bed. The both of you lay next to each other, your bodies linked together like knots. You slwoly remove his helmet from his head, laying it on the nightstand.
Your hands move up his body before landing on his face, cupping his cheeks before pulling him to a kiss before snuggling into his chest.
-
Finally it was Time for you to leave. Sera allowed you to create portals back to heaven in case anything happened and you were in need of assistance. Adam walked you to the front gate.
“Ok, do you have everything? You didn’t forget that fucking angelic dagger I had Lute get for you right-“
You shush him “Adam, I told you I’ll be fine!”
He’s sighs “Damn it- I know that but just make sure to text me while your there ok-
You kiss him deeply “Adam. I know, you’ve told me a hundred times.” You smile as you cup his face “I love you”
He sighs “Love you too Sweetcheeks”
With one final kiss, you give Adam a tight hug before waving goodbye as you went through the flaming portal. As you went through, you take a second to look at your surroundings. In front of you was a tall building. You take a few steps back to see LED lights of a sign flashing the words ‘Hazbin Hotel’
You let out a sigh of relief. You had been a tad bit worried you’d spawn somewhere random and you’d have to find the building yourself. But it seems heaven at least spared you of that.
The red skies of hell were quite different from the pristine blue ones of heaven. Even though you just got here, you could already hear the sounds of screams and explosions in the distance. How welcoming.
You steel yourself and with three hard knocks to the door, you wait for someone to open it. Muffled Scurrying sounds of footsteps approach the door before it creaks open revealing the young blond woman in the doorframe, Charlie Morningstar.
“Hi! I’m-“
The door is slammed shut, Before opening again
“Be not afraid-“
It shuts again…
Well, this may be a bit harder than you initially anticipated. You go to knock again only for it to open once more. This time, the door doesn’t close again, instead the girl mutters a quick “Hi” before going quiet.
“Hello! I didn’t mean to scare you!” You give a small laugh before continuing “I believe we met a couple days ago?” You bring your hand towards her for a shake, to which she reciprocates.
“During the meeting with.. Adam? Right?” She grimaced when she mentioned Adam, which you decided to ignore, you simply smiled and nodded. ”but I don’t believe I caught your name?”
You tell her about yourself, about how your there to stay and monitor any progress the hotel may have. You made sure to pronounce ‘may.’ While you were hoping for this idea to show some kind of positive results, even you weren’t sure if it’d would work.
“Charlie? who’s at the door- WhatHolyShit-“ a woman with a red X over her eye suddenly shouts in surprise. You look over at her, She looked very familiar…
“Wait, you are-“
“Vaggie! Charlie’s sinner girlfriend! And you are?!” The woman known as Vaggie, highlighted the word sinner while performing a “be quiet” gesture with her hand. Your eyes widen a little at the ex-Angel in front of you but you simply smile a nod “I’m Y/n, I don’t believe we’ve met, yes?”
Look, lying is the last thing you’d want to do as a citizen of heaven but you figured that it would be fine if it was to protect someone. Vaggie nodded, her face scrunched up in a tense look.
“You feeling ok Vaggie? You’re looking a little… red?”
“I’m fine! *ahem*, Hun, how about you give them a tour of the hotel.”
Charlie gasped “Yes that's perfect, you may as well get acquainted with everyone if you’re going to be here more often!”
Charlie ran off, telling you “this way! This way!” Over and over. Before you went to follow her, you leaned toward Vaggie and said a quick “Relax, I won’t tell anyone.”
She lets out a sigh before muttering “Thank you”
You both follow Charlie as she shows you the various rooms in the hotel before leading you back to the hotel’s lobby and lounge area.
“Hey! Hello everyone!” Charlie’s voice picked up a little “I’d like to introduce you to our uh… new staff member?” You nod in agreement with the title. The room in front of you was shrouded in looks of both horror and amazement.
“What the hell’s an angel doin’ here?” A lanky spider demon spoke up first
“It’sss an ambush! seek Cover!!” The Snake demon shouted, seemingly grabbing an army helmet from thin air before taking a deep dive behind the couch.
“No Pentious-” She sighs “they’re here to monitor the hotel! Heaven sent them to scout any potential progress the hotel will have”
“It’s nice to meet you all” you look at the people in front of you, to say it was a colorful cast would be an understatement.
“These two are our current tenants of the hotel! Angel dust and Sir Pentious!”
The snake slithered slowly from behind the couch up to you, while the Spider demon remained rested on the couch
“Oh… *ahem* Excuse me dear! I am Sir. Pentious! Formally known as ‘the Architect of destruction’!” He laughs, a slight hiss sounding in his voice.
He offers a handshake which you accept. To which you immediately regret. ‘ Slimey’ you thought, before wiping your, now wet hand on your clothes.
The spider demon, who you now know as Angel Dust, just gives a wave with one of his 4 arms.
“And-“ Charlie extends the word as she quickly walk to a bar by the entrance “this is the recreational area, run by our Bartender, Husk!”
The winged bartender seemed entirely uninterested in your presence or even Charlie’s. The most you got was a small glance before he takes a swig of his alcohol and walks off.
“He’s not the most… social guy in hell” she awkwardly laughs before moving on to the next person. “And this is Nifty, our one and only maid at the hotel! Nifty say hi.”
The short woman scurried moved around you, her eye quickly looking at every every nook and cranny of you as she moved. She made numerous attempts to touch and grab various things on you, your clothes, wings, and eventually she tried to climb up you to get to your halo. That’s when you finally grabbed her in place “you're a… fast one, huh? Nice to meet you!”
“And last but not least! This is Alastor, the hotel’s executive producer and our first -and only- overlord sponsor!”
Immediately, you could tell there was something off about Alastor. The entire aura he gave off was as if he was restraining something completely and utterly ungodly. The static that surrounded him was just one of many whispers you could hear from his soul.
“Hello! It’s quite a pleasure to meet someone of your… holy status!” He offers a hand to which you, hesitantly, shake. “And what do we owe the pleasure for your service?”
“They’re going to be here to keep track of the progress of the hotel…” Charlie paused “you know I’m starting to sound like a broken record- here, it’s late, how about we all get some sleep and we can talk about it in the morning!”
“Fine by me, I am waaay too sober to be having social interaction this late” Angel picks himself up and stretches “I’m gonna hit the hay”
“Here I’ll show you to your room!” Charlie smiles “We -obviously- didn’t have time to make your own so I hope you don’t mind using one of the guest rooms” she laughs
She and Vaggie walks you to your new room before leaving you be, The room was nothing more than just your average hotel room. Of course it did have its differences, a multitude of… eyes seem to be on the wall, staring at you. Well, that’s not the least alarming.
You place your stuff down and begin unpacking, you mostly just brought the basics. Clothes, hygiene stuff, your phone, and, most importantly, a framed photo of Adam.
You sat the photo on your nightstand, angling it just right so that it would always be visible to you. As you do so, you think about the memory the photo brings, you took it on one of the first dates you went on with Adam. It was a relatively tame date, you and Adam, having a picnic by a lake at night. You brought candles so you both weren’t completely in the dark, and you just loved the way he looked, his golden eyes watching the water. The dim candle light illuminating his face with a warm golden shade. Adam hates photos of him with his mask off but… You just had to keep that moment in time forever.
*Ding* *Ding* *Ding*
Speak of the- well, you know the rest. The bright light from the phone comes with the notification sound displaying Adam in bold letters. You smile as you read his messages.
Dixkmaster69
Heyy Sweetcheeks, it’s been a bit since you left
You there??
Fucking answer
You let out a small laugh at Adam’s barrage of messages. He’s not used to you being away from him for more than a day, huh? Not that you could blame him, this is honestly nothing compared to how you feel each year he has to do the extermination.
Sweetcheeks
Hey love
Everything’s fine, I’m ok.
Aside from not having you with me :’(
Dixkmaster69
Fucking finally
You know you don’t have to do this
If I bitch enough to Sera I can get you back by tomorrow
Sweetcheeks
Please don’t, Sera already has enough on her plate.
I promise I’m going to be fine
I’ll be back before you know it.
Dixkmaster69
I know
This shit just worries me
Gonna miss hearing your sexy ass voice at night too ;)
You blush at the message before sighing. Whenever you or Adam approached a topic that made him uncomfortable, he would always try to change the subject to something that made him feel better. You knew why, Adam’s someone who rarely talked about his feelings, even after all these eons together that was something he hadn’t changed. You knew exactly what he needed, even if he didn’t explicitly tell you.
Sweetcheeks
I already miss yours too <3
Do you want to help me fall asleep with that heavenly voice of yours on the phone?
Dixkmaster69
Whatever you want Sweetcheeks <3
You smile when, almost immediately, Adam begins calling your phone. You click the lights off before You make your way in your new bed, not even bothering to change out of the clothes you’ve been wearing. You grab the cover and pull it over you and tapping the answer button.
“Sup”
You yawn “Hey handsome, I missed your voice”
You hear his voice hitch before he caused on “Of course you did, no one has a better voice than the dick master. But uh, yours is a close second”
You’re let out a tired giggle, “such a charmer, you. How’s your day been huh?”
“Oh! don’t even get me started on that- Lute took me to get some ribs to ‘calm my nerves’ or some shit and they had me, ME, wait in line for like 15 minutes! The fucking audacity!”
You smile to yourself as Adam tells you about his day, the sound of his voice was like a sweet lullaby to your ears and you couldn’t get enough of it. But eventually…
“And then when I got home, I couldn’t find my damn charger and it took me like 40 fuckin’ minutes to realize it was under our bed, do you have any idea of how it keeps getting there?” He waits for you to respond only to be met with silence. “Uh bitch, I’m talking to you.”
More silence… well no, actually if Adam focused on listening, he could hear the faint sound of your snoring from the phone. Adam sighs,”Long day, huh?”
Adam lays back in your shared bed, getting comfortable. He sets the phone beside him, plugging it in while keeping it on speaker. He yawns, “Goodnight Sweetheart, can’t wait to see you again”
Slowly, the soft sounds of both yours and Adam’s snores filled each others rooms, a distant, but intimate connection. Even in slumber, you couldn’t stop thinking of your handsome and caring soulmate.
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littlexdeaths · 2 days
Text
precious - e.m.
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y2k eddie munson x girly reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: oral (fem receiving), fingering, spitting, eddie is a menace… but a cute one.
opposites attract masterlist
word count: 1k
a/n: another repost from my opposites attract series. i missed our feral, goblin boyfriend. so i hope you all enjoy xx.
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He’s been in between your thighs for the better part of an hour, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers now long forgotten in the background.
You had gotten Eddie the box set earlier that day as a surprise gift. So of course, your boyfriend wanted to spend the whole day having a movie marathon. And you were more than happy to oblige.
But the only problem was you.
You in your short pleated skirt and pink top that seemed to leave very little to the imagination. You were driving him absolutely crazy, despite not meaning to.
The brunette somehow managed to make it through the first film without caving. But each time you shifted positions, your cotton candy perfume would engulf his senses completely. Reminding him how sweet you were, and just how bad he’d missed tasting you.
So could you blame him for being too distracted to appreciate the gift?
After popping the second film in the dvd player, you joined him back on the sofa. The darkness of the room concealing the boner he’s been struggling with for the past three hours.
So when his hand started drifting up your bare thigh, you didn’t think anything of it. That is until his fingers began tracing the outline of your panties, snapping the elastic against your skin.
His head dips, lips grazing against the shell of your ear.
“We wants it, we needs it…”
Eddie’s voice had dropped an octave, gravely as he did his best impression of the creepy, crawly creature from the film.
You lightly smack his shoulder as he starts laughing, the sound filling the small room. But once he sees the look on your face he settles, nuzzling his face into the skin of your neck.
“Alright, alright I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me try that again,” he hums as his lips trail further down to your collarbone, nipping lightly at your skin.
A small gasp leaves you as he begins sucking, tingles shooting straight to your core.
“Wanna taste you, doll… can I?” He asks, his voice just as deep as before— but the silliness of the previous moment is gone.
Only desperation laces his tone as his fingers slip underneath your panties. The male groans at the wetness he finds, the sound leaving you a little breathless.
“Please,” you whine, lips jutting out in a small pout.
That’s the only answer he needs before he’s detaching himself from you. Grinning mischievously as he slides off the sofa, working himself between your thighs. Your panties are removed almost haphazardly, making you giggle at his eagerness.
Eddie quickly tosses your legs over his shoulders, diving in immediately. Despite how eager he seemed, he slowly dragged his tongue through your soaked folds. Your boyfriend wanted to take his time, to savor each and every drop you were giving him.
Flash forward to almost an hour later, your fingers are tangled in his dark curls as he continues to lap at your overly sensitive cunt. Eddie was being a tease, getting you closer and closer to the edge before slowing down again.
It was his turn to drive you absolutely crazy. While simultaneously turning you into a needy mess under his skillful tongue. He suddenly pulls back for a moment, the glow from the tv highlighting the juices smeared across his chin.
The male gathers some of it on his fingers, eagerly sucking the digits into his mouth with a deep growl.
“Mmm, my precious.”
Before you have time to scold him he’s back between your thighs, a crazed cackle leaves him as he sucks harshly on your clit. Eddie eagerly slips those same fingers that were just in his mouth, back inside you. He curls them up to brush against your sweet spot, causing you to cry out as he increases his pace.
Any semblance of taking things slow is now thrown out the window, as he licks and sucks at you like a starved animal. Your fingers find their way back into his hair, nails digging into his scalp.
“That’s it, such a good. fucking. girl.” He growls each word pointedly, thrusting his fingers in tandem with his vulgarity.
Your walls clench harder around the digits due to his praise, greedily grinding your hips down against them. A whimper escapes you as he leans back, spitting onto your already soaked pussy. But he doesn’t give you much time to process as his tongue begins to mix his salvia with your slick.
He slides a third finger into your tight heat, the sounds of your arousal now over powering the film still playing on the television. Your body is buzzing as your thighs begin to tremble around his head.
“Squeezing me so tight, baby, fuck. You gonna cum for me?” His voice is muffled as he puts more pressure on your swollen clit.
And in that moment, you can’t find the words to answer him— only a high pitched moan leaves your lips.
Eddie chuckles against you, the vibrations bring you that much closer to the edge. Your hips begin to buck up wildly, desperate for that promise of release.
But your boyfriend is quick to force them back down with his free hand. Preventing any further squirming as he drills his fingers into your needy cunt, taking everything he’s giving you in stride.
“Gimme all your cum, sweetheart,” he groans deeply, finding yourself unable to hold back anymore.
After being edged for the better part of an hour, your body convulses as you finally fall over that precipice. Crying out his name repeatedly as he continues to work you through the most intense orgasm he’s ever given you.
Your body suddenly slumps against the sofa, completely spent. A soft whine leaves your lips as you tug on his disheveled curls to lift his head. His dark eyes lock with your half lidded ones, that mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Eddie gladly crawls his way up your body to press a sloppy kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue, your juices now smeared across your chin.
You can feel the sticky, warm denim of his jeans pressing against your thigh. The sudden realization has you giggling into his mouth.
“Mmm,” he hums, “Precious is pleased?”
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ozzgin · 1 day
Note
Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu
Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)
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Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D
Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW
[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]
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The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.
Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.
"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."
You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:
"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."
He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.
"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”
Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.
“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.
“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”
“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.
You sigh.
Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.
How's your life with Zzy going?
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You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?
On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”
If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”
Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.
As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.
Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.
"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.
"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"
"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."
You sigh once more and roll over.
"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.
"Just go to sleep. Or something."
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reverie-starlight · 2 days
Note
sakusa is the number one guy to have an eye on you. If you so much as sniffle, he's pulling out he emergency scarf...
So he absolutely knows when you go on your period, but he tries to phrase it in a way that makes it kess obvious that he knows.
"is it that time already?"
how fitting is it that when I started writing this, my period did too? 🥲 sorry this took so long dira, I’ve been busier with school than I thought I’d be 😭 your other requests are in the works!!
gn!reader that menstruates, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. FLUFF. cuddly reader that's somewhat shy about affection. attentive kiyoomi. making this part of my MSBY!manager!reader mini-series as a little add-on :3
sakusa swears he can pinpoint the exact moment the switch flips in your brain and you succumb to the PMS feels.
you’re cuddling with him on the couch as a movie plays in the background when you shift a little. he glances down at his chest to see you resting your chin on his sternum, eyes wide as saucers and showcasing the familiar look of affection.
he sighs fondly and rests his hand on the back of your head. "someone feeling a bit needy?"
of course you are. he's been keeping track of your cycle since the beginning of your relationship, he has everything down to a T by now. he knows your symptoms, your usual cravings, how many days in advance he'll need to stock up on supplies... and it's never brought up, because you know he'd get a bit embarrassed if he were to be called out on it, but there's an unspoken understanding that he's tuned in to you and your body.
so obviously he knows that you're PMSing. even if he hadn't been tracking things, he'd know just by the way you had to keep yourself from clinging to him at practice earlier.
for whatever reason, you seem to become almost touch-starved just before your period, despite the constant stream of physical affection he gives you everyday.
so when you nod, he just smiles down at you softly and traces a heart on the apple of your cheek. “you did so well at practice today, manager.”
he thinks back to how you made it through the day despite waking up with a bad back and some sore thighs. another clue that tipped him off about your oncoming period.
you look up at him curiously, making his heart thump a little faster at how cute you look with your cheek smushed in his palm. “shouldn’t I be the one praising you for your performance today, actual athlete?”
he snorts, something he only ever finds himself doing around you. “I hear it enough everyday. How often do you get to?”
you nuzzle into his chest and he pretends that he doesn’t notice the shy smile you’re sporting. normally he would tease you, but he finds himself feeling much, much softer for you when you’re like this.
he rubs your lower back a bit and you whine at the relief it provides. “can I get you anything, my love?”
“kiyo, if you even think of getting up right now there will be hell to pay.”
he grins and scratches your scalp with his free hand. “of course, I wouldn’t dream of it.”
you lean up for a kiss and he happily obliges.
and so you stay like that for another ten minutes, the serene silence only broken by your stomach growling. “I’m not letting you go hungry. Let’s get you something to eat, come on.”
he picks you up and helps you wrap your legs around his waist before making way to the kitchen so he can fix you a snack. he works one handed, the occupied one settled under your thighs to support you, and listens to whatever you have to say.
needy as you may be, he wouldn’t trade getting to care for you for the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed!
some tags: @emmyrosee @luvring @aayo-whatt
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afterglowsainz · 3 days
Text
the prophecy | max verstappen
summary: you and max can never agree on the same topic of conversation and it might be the thing that breaks you up
warnings: angst, some yelling
word count: 805
the tortured athletes department series
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you love max. you really do. but you hate when he brings up the same topic of conversation that you'll never agree on.
“i’m not moving to monaco.” you say for the million time.
“i’m just saying it would be way easier for us.” he answers unbothered while eating his dinner.
you avoid rolling your eyes at his comment and just decide to ignore him. since you got together, distance has been a complicated issue for you both. with max flying almost the whole year for races and then going home to monaco and you working and living in new york, the two of you only saw each other during breaks and when you could occasionally fly to see him race.
and yes, maybe it would make it easier if one of you just moved, but why did it have to be you? living in new york has been your dream since you were a kid and saw it in the movies, and now that you finally got a job that you enjoy in the city of your dreams, are you really gonna leave it? hell no.
“why don’t you think about it?” he insists.
you drop the fork you were holding on the plate creating an exaggerated noise.
“would you do it for me?” you ask, exhausted. “would you move to new york for me?” he shakes his head and went back to his dinner.
“is not the same.” he says. 
“why don’t you move to new york?” you ask instead. this caught his attention and he finally moved his eyes from the food to you. “what is it to you anyway? you’re traveling the whole time, i on the other hand, actually work here.”
“you can get a job in monaco.” he replies like he always did when the topic came up.
“i don’t want a different job!” you raise your voice. “and i don’t want to move to monaco.” he didn’t said anything, fearing that whatever came out of his mouth would disturb you more than you already were. “if you wouldn’t do it for me, why would i do it for you?”
you regret it the moment you said it, but it was too late now, it was out there. you could recognize the pain in max’s face from miles away and you felt a little guilty that you were relieved when you said it so you didn’t have to hide your thoughts on the topic anymore.
“because that is what people in relationships do, y/n.” he answers, his tone rather harsh. “you sacrifice things for each other.”
“why do i have to be the one to sacrifice things?” you couldn’t stop now that it was out there.
“why are you being so immature about this?” he exhales, a tired expression on his face which only made you angrier.
“i’m not acting “immature” about this.” you attack. “you just ask me to give up my whole life to go live in a complete different continent for you and i said no, period.”
“so what are we supposed to do, y/n?” he raise his voice at you also. “what are we doing here? playing around?” you frown, nodding your head in disbelief. “i love you too much but this long distance thing is killing me.” he admits.
to be fair, you weren’t the biggest fan of long distance either, but there was no other choice. it was either that or broke up, and you definitely didn’t want to break up.
“look, i know it is not perfect but what else can we do?” you ask, even though the answer was right there, it was obvious that neither of you was going to give in.
“this cannot be the thing that breaks us up.” he whispers but you heard him.
“of course we’re not gonna break up, max.” you say. “that seems extreme.” a grimace of sadness appeared on your face.
“well, i’m not sure what else…” he didn’t continue. “i’m not moving to new york.” he says with a serious tone. “and it seems like you’re not moving to monaco. and none of us wants to do long distance.” you kept quiet, trying to wrap your mind around what he was implying, praying that your conclusions were wrong.
“so?” you ask somewhat fearfully.
“so… i don’t know.”
“you want to end things?” you question straightforwardly, not wanting to wander anymore where his mind was.
“i don’t.” he answers. “but can we continue how we are?” his face was of true despair. 
“is it really this serious?” your voice was seconds away from breaking but you didn’t want to look shattered in front of him.
“you tell me.” he says with a lump on his throat.
you couldn’t help but wonder if this was always how it was going to end.
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bisexualiteaa · 3 days
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could you write something where cooper is talking the reader through it, but like, super sweetly and lovesick?
Talk Me Through It, Baby
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Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!! And some domestic fluff)
CW: NSFW MDNI!! Established relationship, lingerie, flirting, cursing, reader being all enticing, 🤭 p in v, unprotected sex, p0rn w/o plot, domestic Cooper, irradiated cream pie, fingering, oral, (fem receiving) praise, Cooper talking you through sex and making love to you, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from TV series
AN: the creative juices are flowing people! I’m loving it, thank you all to have given me asks, it has been so much fun getting to write stuff for you guys! I think i may be done posting for today and have a busy rest of the week ahead of me but keep a look out within the coming weeks for those whose asks I have not done yet! I haven’t forgotten you lovelies, I promise ❤️ hope I did your ask justice, Anon! Enjoy some smut and domestic fluff! 🥰🤠
It’s days like these that made you remember just how nice it was to live a domestic life back in the day. No worries of murderers at your doorstep, no worries about food supply running too low, radiation sickness, it was just perfect. You could bake, you could cook whatever you could get your hands on, but the best part? Was when Cooper walked through that door after a long day to see the beautiful smile that would light up your face when you would greet him. You’d come up to him, greet him with a “welcome home, honey!” Followed by a sweet, soft kiss as his hands would fall to your hips once he’d make it through the door of your home in the settlement. You wished it could be like old times, but this was the closest to that that you’d gotten and you were proud of it. You had a nice home that almost was completely patched of all holes, working appliances thanks to the electricity you got going, clean water, food and some furniture to really spruce things up.
It was the activities that transpired after dinner however that left you both the most excited for when we would be home. You smiled cheekily as you returned from the bathroom, sitting against the doorway clad in a nightgown that you had made for yourself from collected fabrics. It was soft and silky, yet slightly see through, adorned by lace cups and lace around the bottom as it flowed out yet also hugged your frame. One where it left very little to the imagination of what lay underneath. “What do you think?” You asked excitedly yet with a sensual calm tone, making Cooper look up at you with a grin. He whistled as his eyes roamed your figure, loving the way it hugged your curves just right and let your pert nipples poke through the lace. “What do I think?” He asked, standing up and walking towards you, meeting you half way as you sauntered into the room. “I think you look like a dream come true, sweet pea” he said, his hands coming to rest on your hips as yours looped around his neck with a smile. “You like it? I made it myself” You asked, knowing by the tent in his briefs and the smirk on his lips that that answer was obvious. “Oh I love it” he said genuinely, trailing his hands along the smooth, silky fabric as he looked down at you with a soft smile before pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed contentedly into it, removing his hat from his head and placing it on your own with a chuckle into the kiss. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were propositionin’ me, little lady” he said, making you grin up at him with that half lidded look of mischief and love in your eyes that he just couldn’t get enough of. “Maybe I am” you answered as your eyes flitted between his and his lips, your hands coming to rest against his chest softly, just enough touch to tease, yet enough to make him chase after you for more. “Then let’s take it for a spin, hmm?” He asked, making you giggle softly before a light gasp left your lips as he leaned down, planting sweet kisses to your neck, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss. Your arms held him tighter, pressing your chest against his as his teeth found all your weak spots, being sure to exploit them to work you up even further and hear those beautiful sounds he loves so much. “Cooper…” you sighed, your head falling back at the feeling of his rough hands running along your body, grabbing at anything he could get his hands on. Between kneading the pleasantly soft flesh of your ass, to fondling your breasts, he just couldn’t get enough of you.
“Always look so pretty for me, sugar” he said, making you smile at his heartfelt compliment as he worked at the straps of your hand-tailored nightgown. “I always do my best for you” you replied, making him chuckle. “Don’t need to, you’re perfect as is” he responded, watching as it fell off of you with ease, the fabric pooling at your feet as he kissed you. He felt your hands smooth over his shirt as his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the gin and sweet cherries you had with dinner, making him groan. You always tasted so damn sweet, so addictive. Sugar-Bombs be damned, you were 100% of his daily value of sugar and he wouldn’t want it any other way. When he noticed you had nothing on underneath, he couldn’t help but grin. “Look at you, you’re just so damn gorgeous, what’d a bastard like me ever do to get so lucky?” he complimented, making you smile giddily at his continued compliments. “By being you, Mr. Cooper Howard. Wouldn’t want you any other way” you replied, making him give something between a groan and a chuckle as your lips came to his neck. “The bed looks awful empty, what’dya say we change that?” You asked, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed as he chuckled. “I like the way you think, sugar” he replied, watching as you sat down on the bed before him, looking to him expectantly. “C’mon don’t be shy now, tell me what you want” he said, but rather than speak your mind, your hands spoke for you, finding their way to the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up to where he’d take it off. He chuckled. “How ‘bout these? Want these off too, sweet pea?” He asked with a grin, knowing the answer before you even shook your head yes to confirm it. “Go on, take ‘em off for me. I know you like it more when I let you do it” he said softly, bringing your dainty small hands to his belt buckle, watching and helping you undo it and the button to his pants before taking a hold of his zipper with your teeth, and bringing it down. He groaned watching you toy with him, his fingers gliding through your hair, scratching your scalp before moving down to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “Eyes up here, darlin’” he teased, a grin on his lips as your pretty little doe eyes squinted with your smile, completely love drunk. He watched as you placed your fingers to his hips, helping pull down his pants and briefs as you looked him in the eyes the entire time. “Good girl, so good at it you ain’t even gotta look” he said, making you bite your lip and giggle as excitement was nearly tearing you apart, but you were being good. Patience was key, he loved drawing things out with you to where you were left absolutely crazy for each other.
“Sit your pretty self back some, let me have my dessert” he said, making a pleasant tingle flow through you straight to your throbbing clit. You did as you were told, scooting back a little and resting back on your hands as you spread your legs for him. “There ya go, nice ‘n wide for me, perfect. Look at you, so pretty for me. ‘f I had film in that old camera I’d snap a picture just to keep around of this sight” he said, making you grin up at him, the look in your eyes full of need as he got down on his knees at the edge of the bed. His lips trailed searing hot kisses up along the insides of your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you needed him most before placing the most feathered light kiss to your clit. Your hips bucked up involuntarily out of need and anticipation, a moan leaving you before you whined as he lavished the other thigh with kisses. He gave an amused chuckle. “Patience sweetheart, you’re doin’ so good for me. I promise it’ll pay off” he said, trailing back up to your soaking cunt where he’d placed soft, searing kisses to your clit, making your eyes flutter shut once more and your head drop back with a moan. He groaned at your taste, at the way one of your hands rested on his bald head to tell him how good he made you feel. He looked up at you as he let his tongue lull out, running it up your slit to your clit, flicking the tip of it against your sensitive nub. You keened at the sensation, your chest rising and falling drastically with the harsh inhales and exhales of your pants and moans, a small smile turned the corners of your lips as your eyes were shut. “Cooper…” you moaned, and it was music to his ruined ears. “Taste so good sugar, I swear it’s like you’re made of it” he said, placing a playful bite to the inside of one of your gummy thighs, earning a louder, surprised yet pleased moan in response. “Fuck…” you panted, making him chuckle as one of his fingers prodded your entrance, sliding in all the way to the knuckle as his tongue flicked against your clit in a rhythm that had you bucking your hips to meet his mouth. “Feels s’ good, please..” you begged, feeling him curl his finger inside of you to rub against that sensitive bundle of nerves. He was going to be the death of you one of these days, you swore it, he was too damn good at this. He watched as you looked down at him, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him eating you like a man starved. He gave a wink at you as your gazes met, smirking into you as he felt you get closer and closer. “That’s the spot, ain’t it sugar? That’s it, doin’ so good for me, I know you’re close. Let go for me honey, I’ve gotchya” he said, keeping that delicious pace with his tongue and fingers rubbing that spot inside, it didn’t take long for you to do just as he asked. With a moan you came on his fingers and his tongue, a low, feral groan leaving his throat and rumbling his chest as you did. “Good girl” he praised, making you whimper as he withdrew his fingers. his mouth and chin shining with your slick and his spit. He used his fingers to wipe it off, looking you in the eyes as he sucked on his fingers to remove it, groaning at the taste as he licked his lips clean.
He climbed up on the bed over top of you, leaning down to kiss you which you graciously accepted, unbothered by the taste of you on his lips and tongue. “Ready sweetheart?” He asked, making you shake your head yes at him, enjoying how desperate you were for him. He leaned back to rub his tip through your slit, collecting your slick and mingling with the pre-cum that beaded out from it. “Don’t tease, Coop..” you begged, making him chuckle. “I know, I know, just makin’ sure I don’t hurt ya” he said, before easing his way into your tight cunt. Didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, the stretch always burned at first but subsided into nothing but absolute bliss. “Doin’ so good for me, doin’ okay sweetheart?” He asked once he was fully sheathed inside you, waiting for you to tell him when to move and making sure you weren’t in pain. You looked up at him, that smile that he swore was the brightest thing in the universe eased all his worries. “I’m good, Coop. You can move whenever you’re ready” you said, making him chuckle as he leaned down to kiss you again, starting a soft, slower pace. He didn’t want to fuck you tonight, didn’t want to have sex with you, no. He wanted to make love to you, show you how much he loves you, show you how much he worships the ground you walk on. He wanted to give you everything you ever wanted and more just to see that pretty little smile in return, it’s all he ever asked for. You both moaned into your shared kiss, his one hand holding yours by your head, fingers intertwined with each other as the other rested on your hip. Your free hand roamed along his scarred back, your head tipping back as his thrusts were deep and calculated. You shut your eyes as his lips roamed your neck, once again abusing the sensitive skin to hear your voice sing for him. “Feel so good honey, like you were made for me” he said, making you hum at the thought, you certainly liked to think so. “Maybe I- hah~ was” you said between moans, making him chuckle dryly. “Maybe you were” he said, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, his tongue laving over one of your nipples as his other hand toyed with the other between his thumb and finger. You moaned as your head fell back against the pillows, hair fanning around your head like a halo. You were ethereal, he swore it. His perfect little angel to keep him out of too much trouble, but just naughty enough to keep him on his toes.
“I love you so much, darlin’. Love everything you do for me” he said, making you smile warmly. “I love you too Cooper, and everything you do to- I mean *for* me” you said playfully, making him laugh at your witty joke, feeling the way your gummy walls hugged him tight, fluttering around his cock as he kept a good steady pace. “Felt you tighten around me, go ‘head, let go for me baby. I’m here” he said, bringing his thumb down to rub tight circles against your clit, leaving your back arching off the mattress and a wide O shaping your lips. “Fuck…Cooper, cum with me, please…inside” you said, making him groan into your neck as he buried his face there. “Anything for you sweet pea” he replied, moaning into your shoulder as you held onto him for dear life, knowing your orgasm would hit you hard. And that it did. You saw white stars flash in your vision, as your body arched up from the mattress once more, pressing yourself to him as your walls clamped down around him, milking him of everything he had to offer you as he painted your walls white. You panted as you rode out your highs, his lips coming to yours for a sweet, gentle kiss before resting his forehead against yours.
As you both lay there, basking in the after glow, he couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked teasingly, making him chuckle. “Just that I found the love of my life” he said, so casually as if it were common knowledge, making you give him that beaming smile he loved so much. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, rubbing the irradiated skin with your thumb as you closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his once more. “Good, because I’ve been lookin’ at mine for a few months now, wondering when you’d finally admit it” you said, making him laugh along with you as he pulled out, got you both cleaned up and hooked you up to some RadAway. “Maybe I’ll go down to the market and getchya that ring you were eyein’ last time we went” he said, making you look at him astonished. “Oh Cooper, you ain’t gotta do that! You know how many caps that’ll run you?” You asked, making him laugh. “Does it look like I care? Besides, if it’s that ridiculously expensive, no one ever said anythin’ about spendin’ the caps if the person sellin’ it ended up missin’ somehow” he said with a grin, making you grin as you kissed him, only he could make murder look so good.
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disneyprincemuke · 2 days
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sick little games * op81
neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.
pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader
word count: 1.4k
(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)
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you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.
oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.
on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.
you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.
you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”
“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”
“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”
he blinks at you. “too soon.”
“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”
you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.
oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”
“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”
he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”
you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”
“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”
you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.
a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”
“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”
“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”
oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”
“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”
“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”
you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.
and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?
“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”
“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”
“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”
he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”
“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”
“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.
“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”
“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”
you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.
he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”
“oscar…”
insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”
you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”
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