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hellishjoel · 9 months

Text

little black dress

10k / pairing: bartender!joel x f!reader

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summary: You’re breaking things off with your douchebag situationship at one of your favorite little dive bars because lord knows you’re gonna need a drink or two. The bartender, Joel, is happy to offer his assistance.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst, toxic ex-boyfriend putting hands on you, dom!Joel, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), titty attention, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), I think that’s it!

A/N: I’ve held this in my vault for WEEKS. Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @macfrog for helping get this piece to completion! I quite literally couldn’t have done it without them and without their input and encouragement. Also -- this is my first 10k fic! how exciting!!

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Your breaths grow heavy with impatience, waiting to feel him. Him soaking up your slick wasn’t enough. He finally got the hint as your hips rutted back into this touch, hearing his hellish low chuckle at your desperation. “So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed. “Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him.

You had never gotten dressed up for a breakup before.

As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you were reminded of what you discussed with your friends last night.

You felt a little on edge when you revealed to your friends over a girl’s night that you wanted to break up with your short-term boyfriend Chris. The relationship was only a couple of months old, but the guy was a douchebag. And you realized it too late.

“He was such a waste of your time.”

“Oh my god, he was an asshole to you.”

“Girl, I hope you do a revenge breakup on his sorry ass.”

“A revenge breakup?”

Ahh, yes. The revenge breakup. For wasting your time, efforts, and emotions on Chris, you deserved to have a little fun in the form of revenge. You’d put on your favorite little black dress, do your hair and your makeup, wear a red lip, and show him that you don’t need him.

But now as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, you felt like you were playing dress up. You weren’t really this confident, this bold. But your pouty red lips said otherwise. Your favorite perfume said otherwise, as well. After a slow turn in the mirror, long legs on show with a short black dress adorning your curves, you decided you would be a man-eater tonight.

You would have preferred to break up with him over text, but you decided you were together for a little too long not to break things off in person.

Despite what you looked like on the outside, your heart was a tangled mess of emotions.

When you first met Chris at one of the fancy bar lounges on the east side, he was the standout of his friends. Tall, blessed with dark blonde hair, perfectly clean-shaven, still dressed in a work suit to join in on the Friday night happy hour. You quickly learned a lot about him. He had an apartment in the city, but his permanent residence was in the neighboring state. He liked golf, basketball, and football. He was a family guy, close with his parents. After buying you a drink, he told you he worked at a finance agency, a large one at that.

The professionalism in itself made you swoon. You couldn’t help it, he seemed put together and men who had a plan were attractive to you.

Needless to say, you went home with him after he was whispering in your ear all night long, his large hand planted possessively on your hip, derailing any other guy in the room who thought about trying a conversation with you.

It could have stopped there, should have stopped there. But he was smart, and his face wore a permanent smirk that put you in a destructive tailspin. So you kept seeing each other. He took you out on lunch dates, got you into the trendy clubs, and put the two of you up in hotel suites from time to time for a nice weekend away.

It was fun while it lasted. His charm eventually wore off, and you realized he was just… a completely selfish douchebag.

You were ready to break things off.

And so it was decided. You looked hot. Too good for him. Your roommate insisted that she could come with you for moral support dressed as a casual bargoer, watching the show for herself behind a bar menu. The idea made you bubble up a laugh, but you really wanted to do this yourself, for yourself.

Your stomach was in knots the entire Uber ride over, leg crossed over the other as you drew shapes into the material of your clutch. You wanted to arrive a little earlier than the set time with your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend-fling, needing a drink or two of encouragement.

The Blackbird was a corner bar that had survived the rapid changes of downtown for the past ten years, or so. Initially around when there was a small gas station on the opposite corner, now it was neighboring a family diner and a video rental shop.

As soon as you enter down the cement stairs and through the dark green door, you’re greeted by a stage to your right where local bands came in and played. After walking past the pool tables that desperately needed new felt, you pass an old golden jukebox that was playing 80s dad rock. It fit the atmosphere, you had to admit. Some Guns N’ Roses started to play after just finishing a Twisted Sister song.

Maybe it was the fact that you were entering into a small dive bar, easily becoming the best-looking person there by a mile and a half, but it was the confidence you needed.

Eyes were on you, a small smile fluttering on your lips at the discovery.

Cigarette smoke filled the air, your heels clicking casually against the hardwood floor as you used the space as an off-duty catwalk. Pool balls clattered, matching the fast-paced beating of your heart.

The Blackbird Bar offered little lighting, aside from the bulbs that hung above the pool tables and a few old neon signs. The walls were decorated in well-loved decor like old license plates and tacky bar signs. There was a $1 bill hung up in a frame, most likely the first bill the bar had ever made. It's a crowning little achievement in all of its dust-covered glory.

The bar stools could use new upholstery and a fresh coat of paint might do the wall wonders, but people didn’t come here to enjoy upscale aesthetic and fruity drinks. They came for cheap booze and company from the regulars.

An empty string of barstools waited for your company at the end of the long bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness the bar was veiled in.

Your fingernail traced over the slight scratches on the bar’s surface, someone clearing their throat knocking you loose from your thoughts.

“What’ll y’ have?”

Your head was so clouded with what you might say during your impending breakup that you didn’t think of what you wanted to drink. You could really use some liquid courage.

“Uhm..” You paused as you looked over the bartender, your eyes adjusting as you watched him clean a glass with a rag before he tossed the cloth over his shoulder.

He was older, a little shaggy looking. He wore a tattered dark green henley with a waffle print, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You ordered your go-to drink, slowly swirling your straw around the ice as you anxiously watched the clock tick closer and closer to your planned time.

“Hey beautiful.” Shit, he was early.

Your eyes widened as you quickly set down your drink, signaling to the scruffy bartender and tapping at your glass to request another.

Chris entered your space with a charming smile, his pungent cologne instantly piercing your senses as your eyes gazed over his square jawline.

“Hey.” You teetered on your seat, adjusting the hem of your dress, feeling that it was all of a sudden far too short for the evening. Like it was shrinking up your body.

Chris quickly picked up on your not-so-warm greeting, his head cocking as he set down his jacket on the bartop.

“Interesting pick for the bar. I could’ve taken you somewhere uptown.”

The comment made your gut clench, especially since the bartender was right in front of the two of you, making your drink as he silently listened to every word.

“I actually really like this spot. Feels less pretentious than uptown.” You bit back, maybe a little too much venom in your comment.

Chris playfully threw up his hands in surrender, smirking down at you as he took in your appearance. Slightly smeared red lipstick and an all too tight black little dress.

“Alright, uptown is pretentious now, I’m glad you updated me.” His comment was snide but laced with a hint of teasing, your hand instantly reaching for your drink once it was crafted by the bartender. You mutter an apologetic thank you.

“Hey,” Chris spoke up as he raised two fingers to flag down the bartender. “Can I get-”

Before he could finish, the bartender had walked off further down the bar lane, grumbling under his breath as he went to fulfill another customer’s order. Chris scoffed and tried to brush it off but it made you smile. Well deserved.

Once Chris finally did receive his drink, a corona with a lime, he started to tell you about his week in the office. Unprovoked.

Apparently his coworker was brutally fired, his department was on their third secretary within the year thus far, and he was up to his ears with his end-of-the-month reports.

You weren’t sure what drink number you were on. The bartender kept giving you glances every time he poured your glass back up, his eyes signaling to Chris as he kept speaking over you. He looked just as annoyed as you felt.

“And Chambers is just.. all up my ass about finishing it ahead of schedule but I keep telling him, y’know, Dude, it’s not due until Monday. Get off my ass about it. Right? Right?” Now he was laughing like his life, and his story was really all that interesting. Like everyone was hanging onto every word he ever said with enthusiasm.

He kept wagging his beer around in his hand as he spoke, using mannerisms to go with his exquisite storytelling.

You muster up a noise to give him some sort of implication that you were interested. However, the more you drank, the more you realized how uninteresting he actually was. Who talks at someone like this for 45 minutes? When did he ask you a question about you? Did he know shit about you?

“Hey,” your voice sounded power drenched which quickly captured his attention. His eyebrows raised as if you were interrupting his train of thought.

“Do you remember what I told you I studied in school?” Your head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed on his. Despite the volume in the bar, you could still feel your heart thumping in your ears.

He tried not to look phased by your question. After a pause on his end, he mustered up an awkward chuckle before clearing his throat, shifting back and forth on his feet.

“How long have I lived in the city?”

You watched as his eyes flicked off to the side, his lips parting as if he was hoping the right answer would just come to him.

“Uhm..”

“Uhm?” You mocked, a nasty smirk on your lips. It was taunting.

The more he couldn’t answer your questions, the angrier you got. You mocking him seemed to get his blood boiling.

“What do I do for work? What are my hobbies?” Your red lipstick kissed the straw as you took another sip while you waited, crossing your leg over the other as your foot casually bounced while you watched him squirm.

You continued to roll out question after question. You enjoyed watching him writhe under your scrutiny, finding out that he didn’t fucking know you at all.

Someone you considered to be so put together, so refined, and so charming was really just a douchebag clown masquerading in a suit.

The grip on your drink tightened, and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the anger you bore, but something gave you the nerve to throw the remnants of your drink on him.

The liquor splashed across his white button-up shirt first, your half-melted ice cubes followed by pelting his chest.

Satisfaction and surprise filled your gut, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you tried to hide a laugh. The crowd of regulars watched from a distance, a few gasping while a few others snickered.

He looked furious.

“You fucking-- bitch! What the hell!” He was still shaking off ice cubes, pieces of his blonde hair falling down and presenting him as disheveled.

“If that wasn’t answer enough for you, I don’t want to see you again. We’ve been on countless dates, and you don’t remember a damn thing about me.”

You didn’t care that people were watching, you were putting on quite the show for them in your little revenge dress.

Chris scoffed at you in disbelief, shaking off the liquid that clearly stained through his shirt. You could feel your chest swell with a sense of pride and courage. Your body felt warm, stained with confidence as red as your lipstick.

“You’re fuckin’ sick, you know that? You’re a fuckin’ psycho!” He was nearly laughing at you, the insults scraped at your throat and made your confidence cut down an inch.

“Just-- get the fuck out of here, I don’t want to see you again.”

Suddenly, something you weren’t expecting was his hand tightening around your forearm. It stung, his iron grip burning into your flesh so hard that your fingertips already felt numb from the lack of circulation.

You let out a whimper of discomfort, your big eyes looking between his talons pressed into you then back up to his twisted face.

He yanked you into him, your heels scraping the bottom of the floor-- or maybe that was the screech of his barstool he pushed out of his way on the hardwood.

“You really think you’re all that interesting?” His eyes were narrowed in on yours. “You were just an pair of open legs.” He muttered in disgust.

Your eyes hardened, jaw tightening shut as both anger and sadness twisted inside of you until it created a damaging tornado. You couldn’t believe you saw interest in him or anything at all.

“Hey-” A voice so low and booming broke you out of your thoughts, both of your heads snapping to the bartender who was staring daggers into Chris.

“You don’t touch a lady like that in my fuckin’ bar. Get the hell outta here.” His voice relaxed in volume, his scary stature and piercing eyes were enough to thrust a splinter of fear into Chris. But of course, being the cock that he was, he wouldn’t let it seem like the bartender phased him.

“This doesn’t concern you, man. Best if you just drop it-”

“Or what?” The bartender’s words cut quick as his head cocked up, eyes narrowed on Chris’s. Challenging him. Goading him to fight back. The bartender even stepped closer to the bar’s edge, making Chris step back a foot or two despite the bar being a direct barrier to the two. Chris’ hold didn’t slack, it became stronger. Your nails started to try and pry away his hand from you, but his grip was solid.

You looked to the bartender, a silent plea for his help behind your eyes as you were still lightly fighting against the grip Chris had on you. The anger Chris felt towards the man reflected in his hand around your forearm, a short cry coming from your lips as his fingertips bruised into your delicate skin.

“What did I just fuckin’ say?” The bartender was rounding the bar towards the two of you, Chris quickly dropping his hold on you as the man neared closer. This idiot had never been in a fight before in his life, and he surely wasn’t going to start with the tall, broad bartender who probably beat up drunk assholes every other night.

You were so hypnotized by their interaction, the feeling of the bartender’s hand gently on your back before he became a barricade in front of you. His broad arms crossed in front of his chest and he was still looking for a fight out of Chris.

He looked scary, but in a more protective way now. Now that he was so much closer, you had a better look at him.

His flesh was seared with the signs of life, soft lines on his forehead and by his eyes-- probably from the permanent scowl he wore like how people put on their glasses every day or a watch around their wrist. He had a speckled beard, but a prominent mustache on his upper lip, both the hair on his head and his facial hair wore a brief streaks of silver.

His nose was aquiline, it fit him perfectly. He was long in the torso, broad in the shoulders, and drawn in at the waist. The henley shirt he wore looked like it could barely fit around his biceps, the material stretching to accommodate. He was handsome for a stranger you had paid little attention to all evening.

“You alright?” You could tell he was talking to you without looking, his voice more serene.

“Yeah.” Your voice sounded shakier than you wanted it to, the whole interaction being a shock to your system. Your hand delicately stroke over where he held you, the ghost of his grip still aching on your skin as small bruises were sure to form later.

The bartender’s attention was back on Chris after being assured you were alright.

“You heard her. Get the hell out of here.” The bartender’s head cocked behind Chris and to the door. Once the bartender got involved with your fight, you could feel the presence of the tough pool table guys pause their game to make sure the situation was handled.

Outnumbered, Chris scoffed before he yanked his ice-covered jacket from the bartop, his eyes on you as he shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “Keep her. She’s not worth the fuckin’ trouble.”

The bartender had enough of Chris thinking he was in charge of the situation. He planted his hands at the top of Chris’ chest, giving him a harsh shove that had him staggering backward, still trying to maintain his balance as he was shoved out the door repeatedly.

“I don’t usually ask twice, consider yourself lucky.” The bartender’s words were cut with steel. He looked so calm and unbothered like he picked fights with random guys every other night and it was no big deal.

The crowd of regulars at the bar cheered him on until Chris was swiftly shoved out the door and you could hear his body scuff against the cement steps outside.

You finally felt a flood of relief course through your body, the adrenaline had come and gone, but the racing of your heart hadn’t subsided.

You let out a hot puff of air as you brought the scattered barstools back to their home under the bar, seeing a pair of hands help you align the last one. It was the bartender, and he was watching you with eagle eyes.

“I’m sorry-” you quickly blurt, shaking your head and pressing your hand to the side of your neck to find some sort of relief. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene or put you in a situation-”

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He was quick to cut in and assure you, your bunched-up shoulders slowly relaxing as he resumed his spot behind the bar.

You sort of wanted to leave. You hated the unwanted attention your hot-headedness created. Even though he was the asshole, you still felt like it was your fault.

“Sit down.” His voice demanded, your eyes softening as your head whipped back up to look at him.

“I’ll remake your drink, just… sit down.” You shifted on your uncomfortable heels before giving in and satisfying him with a little nod, returning to your barstool as he came by and made you another drink.

“Can you-” your voice perked up and tapped at your glass gently. He paused his motions as he looked down at you. “Can you make this drink as responsibly strong as you can?”

His lips tightened, trying to hide a smile poking out from the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, Trouble.” You watched as he tipped the alcohol in, letting it fill up with the ice before he added only a good splash of mixer. Thank god.

The breakup with Chris was warranted, but it was hard thinking about having to start all over with someone new. Hopefully with someone better. You weren’t one to drink by yourself like this, but the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat felt better than the ache you felt festering in your chest.

As the night went on, the bartender didn’t seem keen on being more than a few feet away from you. He’d fulfill a patron’s order on the other end but always end up back by you, meandering himself to keep busy. You had watched him clean one beer mug three separate times now. Sometimes you made eye contact, only for a fleeting second before he looked away.

He kept asking if you were alright. Yeah, I’m alright. If he could do anything. You’ve already done more than enough. Thank you. Finally, he broke.

“So… you wanna tell me who that guy was?” He asked, topping off your drink as you sighed and swirled your straw around.

“He was... I don’t know. A boyfriend, I guess.” You waved around your drink as you spoke, your eyes meandering around the bar.

“Whatever we had, it didn’t last long.” You tutted up a short laugh at your little joke. You took in a deep breath through your nose, your shoulders rising before they dropped on the exhale.

The bartender shook his head, almost looking inquisitive.

“Why d’ya laugh?” He asked curiously, his arms spread as he planted his palms into the bar for balance as he kicked back one of his boots to rest behind the other. He was so broad and handsome.

“Oh,” you paused and covered your face for a moment in embarrassment that he called you out on it. “I said it didn’t last long, the relationship, but like.. Y’know.” You trailed off and shyly smiled, setting your hands back in your lap as you caught his eye contact, however, now he was holding it with you.

“What?” He pressed further. But he knew what. He just wanted you to say it.

You let out a short nervous bubble of laughter, shaking your head. Oh, fuck it. The alcohol was helping you relax, and frankly, you wanted to laugh at Chris. You didn’t owe him anything.

“He didn’t last long. The relationship didn’t last long, and he didn’t last long. Y’know. In bed.” You felt the need to over-clarify now, taking another sip from your drink, your eyes clenching closed slightly as the strong alcohol made your face tense.

The bartender’s mouth chipped up into a crooked smirk, shaking his head as he looked over you for a moment. You remembered what you were wearing, your little black dress doing wonders for your cleavage resting just above his bar.

“‘S’a damn shame.” He finally said, shaking his head as he threw a white cloth up onto his shoulder, his attention fully on you now as the bar had begun to die down throughout the night. All that was left was a set of people playing pool and one cigarette smoker on the other end of the bar, his eyes tiredly captured by the random game show on the television.

“What is?” You ask curiously, your straw slurping ice now as you sighed and pushed the glass away, shaking your head at him to signal you were done for the night.

He paused before answering you, taking your glass from the bartop and throwing down the ice into a tray then the glass into soapy water. He shook his head and shrugged as he wiped his hands.

“Jackass twenty-somethings not knowin’ how to make their pretty girlfriends finish. Damn shame.”

Your lips parted, your doe eyes on his whiskey-colored ones. Your stomach twisted, a tug between your legs so strong it felt like you were battling an internal fire.

Finally, you just laughed. It was out of shyness and shock, but it was a laugh.

“Is that so?”

“So it is.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

He didn’t let you go another second without it. “Joel.”

Your head cocked to the side, your confidence bubbling up as you sighed quietly. “Joel.” You repeated back to him, the two of you slowly nodding to one another. Now you were the only thing his eyes would look at. You sort of wished he would look somewhere else, to let you fucking breathe.

But he pinned you right there in your barstool with his gaze, in his bar. It was crazy to think something fruitful might actually come from the train wreck that was tonight.

Maybe put together looked something more like Joel. Someone a little older, experienced. No wedding ring, a barely-there smile that seemed to only come out on special occasions. He amused you, even if it was just for tonight.

“So, Joel,” your hand reached out, pointer finger gently grazing over the top side of his hand that was planted in front of you. His skin was warm, your nail grazing the soft hairs by his wrist, and the band of the watch he wore. “What are you trying to say?”

His expression didn’t break, if anything, there were minute details you noticed. His jaw clicked tighter like there was someone slowly turning a tight wheel that controlled it behind the scenes. His shoulders bunched a bit more at his upper back, his body tall and looming and strong. But his eyes stayed on yours, consistent, dark, and beautiful.

“I can show you better than I can tell you.” His words were laced with a promise you were begging him to fulfill. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last with this nagging feeling between your legs begging for relief.

Your intimate conversation was cut short with the final clatter of a pool ball, the black 8 ball sinking into a pocket.

You finally let out a breath, one you didn’t know you were holding in. You glanced to the side, away from Joel’s protective gaze as you watched the men hang up their pool cues on the wall mount, grabbing their leather jackets as they came to set their empty beer bottles on the bar top and thanking Joel before they exited.

His hand came up in a subtle wave, not even shaking his hand back and forth, just throwing his hand out there to say a silent farewell.

Your breath quickened at the thought of him alone in the bar with you. If it wasn’t for the chain smoker dulling both of your fantasies.

Joel caught your wandering eyes, following them down the lane to the final patron.

“Paul, do you know how late it is?” Your eyes fell to Joel’s fingers as he covered the clock behind the counter methodically.

The smoker, who you learned was Paul, finally pulled the cigarette away from his dry and cracked mouth, glancing around to see how empty the bar had become. Besides you and Joel.

“Your wife is probably waitin’ for you at home. Best if you start headin’ out.” Joel said as his head tilted to the door next to him, the man nodding with wide eyes.

“Oh, she is gonna kill me. That woman,” he mumbled something else you couldn’t quite hear from your end of the bar, smiling as Joel snuck a glance at you as he ushered Paul out. He’d stay here all night if Joel didn’t tell him to head on home.

Your nerve finally made your long legs move, heels landing on the hardwood as you slowly walked the length of the bar, your fingers dancing along the top. You felt a few chips and divots in the wood, years of wear and tear exposing itself to you.

Joel flicked the lock on the door and flipped the sign. Sorry, we’re closed!

The action in itself made you feel spoiled. He wanted you to himself for the rest of the night, he didn’t want anyone interrupting. Goosebumps flooded your skin as you leaned back against one of the pool tables, the light above you making you have an angelic silhouette.

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the jukebox, the only thing eliciting noise in the otherwise silent bar. With a push of a button, the music halted.

“What? No music?” You asked. Your voice had a slight echo now.

His heavy footsteps loomed closer, his eyes on yours and never straying.

“Rather hear you.”

Well, there went any remaining ounce of respect you had for yourself.

You initiated the first contact, needy at this point. Needy for someone to take care of you just for tonight. Joel was more than willing to take on that role. A means to an end.

Your soft hands landed on his exposed forearms, moving upwards until they hit the rolled-up sleeves of his dark green henley. You had to force yourself to breathe when you felt over his biceps, your warm palms coming to rest on his broad chest.

“I could have handled it you know. Before you intervened.” Your words elicited a slight grumble from the man in front of you. From Joel.

“I’m thankful, but… I had it under control.” Your fingers continued to dance over his upper half.

He let out a gruff and shook his head. “Not from where I was standin’, Trouble.” His voice was curved with cockiness. This was the first time you really took hold of his southern accent. It came out when his voice was lust drenched.

He challenges you, and your attitude matches his stubbornness.

Joel’s hips are against yours now, you can feel his jeans against your thighs that your dress doesn’t quite reach. His hands are a warm welcome on your hips. They’re gentle on you in the same way they’re possessive, eager to have you but wanting to approach you with a sense of tenderness.

“I had it.” You were persistent. Your arms moved to wrap up around his neck, intertwining your hands and feeling the soft curls on the back of his head.

“Sure.”

The distance was closing between the two of you now, his body moving with a flirtatious sense of stealth.

He watched you with a stoic face. He seemed so unphased. Your touch alone was often enough to have gentlemen attempting to take you home. You were methodical in that sense. But maybe so was Joel.

He was a total stranger, but knew little things about him. Stiff, silent, impossible to read, a human shield, a protector. He would have knocked Chris out with a single swift swing of his heavy fist if he didn’t let you go, you knew he would have. Because he was watching you both all night like he had a gut feeling.

Joel’s tundra-cold voice broke you out of your thoughts for the third time tonight, his large hand coming up and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear before he cradled your cheek. His actions were soft, his words were filth.

“You got a real mouth on you, y’know that?” His eyebrows were furrowed, the indents on his forehead and eyebrows exposing themselves.

A proud smirk danced on your lips, your arms tugging Joel in closer. He could choose to stay still, he’s strong enough to resist your tug. But he lets you. Because he wants to.

“So I’ve been told.”

You can feel a breath leave through his nose, a sigh of contemplation. Teetering on the idea of falling down into the unknown with you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as his hands tighten on your hips, hoisting you up to sit on the pool table’s edge. The position makes your dress roll up your thighs, a broken gasp leaving your mouth as he finally fills the void between the two of you with a heavy kiss.

It’s tongue and teeth at first, meshed and mangled as you both searched for dominance. His tongue danced with your own before you were tugging on his lower lip. You swallowed Joel’s low grunt, his hands falling to the outside of your thighs with his thumbs pressing into your skin.

Fuck, he was spreading you further. The dress rolled to the very top of your legs, his body sliding through the opening as his warm body consumed you. He tasted like mint. He was probably tasting the alcohol he was pouring you all night.

You fisted his hair at the nape of his neck to hold onto some sort of control, but he was persistent.

Joel was invading your senses on all fronts until finally, you had to wave your white flag.

“Joel,” Your voice came out in a desperate breath on his lips, his head quickly nodding as if he already knew what you needed before you had to ask.

“Lie down, baby, lemme take care a’you.” He kissed you once more before pulling away, his head nodding up once, instructing you to lay back.

You felt bashful as your shoulder blades hit the pool table, still spread perfectly for him.

His expert hands pushed the dress up your hips, lifting your ass off the edge to let the material pool around your stomach.

His warm and possessive hands claimed the lower half of your body. He bent down to take you in, pouted lips kissing your naval while his heavy eyes studied your reactions.

A breath was caught in your throat as you felt his hands on the inside of your thighs, brushing over the front of the red panties you wore. He was thinking the same thing you were, you could see it the way he dropped a small grin. Same color as your lipstick, pretty girl.

“Fuck,” you whispered, using the strength you had left and sitting up on your elbows. You were too turned on not to watch him work.

Your fingers wound into the salt and pepper curls atop his head, biting down on your lower lip as his fingers continued to ghost over cotton.

His thumb began to teasingly stroke over you, brushing over your covered clit and sending electricity through his touch to your core.

Joel hooked his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, bringing up your legs to take them off with ease. You scoot closer to the edge of the table, scoot closer to him.

“What?” You ask, his bemused grin now eliciting one from you too. “Think I’m desperate?” You ask, a little on edge for his answer.

A man of suspense, you watch as Joel shrugs off the question.

You watched as his eyes came down to admire what was previously concealed, your lips parting as he let out a hum in reaction to seeing your soaked core. All because of him, all for him.

Sinking down on his knees before the pool table, your hips rutted forward a few more inches to close the distance. His toying with you was aggravating.

Joel hooked one of your legs over his wide-set shoulder, his large hand coming up to pry the other one up and open. One of your heels nearly sunk into one of the pool table pockets. You whimpered out as you eventually kicked them both off, hearing one pair clatter to the floor on the left of Joel, then the other on the right.

His lips were on you like a magnet, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed. Your gut was tight, feeling it create its own knots as Joel licked an exploratory stripe up your glossy slit with his tongue. You gasped at the estranged feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned out, a short yelp leaving you as the vibrations were shot up your center. “Taste too good not to go down on.” The compliment left you in a swirling heat, feeling your walls flutter desperately for him.

“Joel, you can just-” you paused, not realizing how frantic your words sounded. You sounded frantic enough for him to stop his tongue in his path and look at you like a deer in headlights.

“‘Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, hesitant concern crossing his features. “You alright?”

As much as you liked his attention, you felt awkward about him tasting you. Only one or two guys have ever done this for you before, neither making you finish. You just remember moaning their names until they stopped, letting them think they had succeeded. Good oral sex took experience, trial, and error. You just didn’t want him to waste his time on you.

But now that his tongue was gone, you realized how good he was making you feel. It made you realize that your slick was already devoured by his lips and his taste buds purely because he wanted to. But you still had that nervous gut feeling that it was out of some sort of chivalrous act. I’ll do it because it’s polite, because it’s only courteous.

“You just- you don’t have to, okay? I understand if you don’t want to, is what I’m trying to say.” Despite your words being laced with little pants of trying to collect yourself from the pleasure, you still offered him a respectable out. “We can just fuck, get to the good part for both of us.” Your heart thumped in your chest, looking to him with shifty, sympathetic eyes.

Your statement made his head roll to the side, his lips parting. He almost looked disappointed.

“You don’t want me to?” He finally asked, your heat still begging for his attention. You could feel your thighs trembling under the warmth of his palms spreading your legs apart.

Meekly, you finally push an answer up and out of you. “No.” Your words were breathy, eager, desperate. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Joel gave you a slight nod, his eyes looking over you for a moment before he settled back down by your core. He kissed up the inside of your thigh, his beard hairs scratching after the soothing touches of his mouth.

“Good. Now let me make you feel good.”

His words made your stomach clench, your walls fluttering and begging to be filled. By the look in his eyes, he had seen it. The way your arousal was quite literally dripping and becoming sticky on your skin.

You could feel his hot breath fanning over your core again, your hips chasing the feeling. You decided to lay back once more, just wanting to relax with Joel’s head between your legs.

His palm on your leg moved to plant your hip down into the pool table, halting your movements and holding you still. The anticipation was all too much, and you let him know that by whimpering out his name.

He wasn’t exactly slow, it’s like he was learning. With each lap of his tongue, letting it move up to your clit and then down to your entrance, he was taking the time to learn you.

You purse your lips as your eyes flutter closed, letting out a genuine gasp as he began to suckle on your clit. The motion eluded something deep in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it didn’t hurt. Feeling his mouth suck and tug on your aching clit, his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitivity felt like powerful lighting strikes setting a wildfire loose in your core.

“S’that feel good, pretty girl?” He whispered, trying to learn what made you tick.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper-moaned shakily in response, not finding it in you to lace together more than a few syllables.

One of your hands braced the edge of the table while the other fisted his hair, gripping the dark strands and keeping him in place. As if he was going anywhere.

You could feel Joel slowly untying the knots you had made in your stomach, plucking open one and then the other with each stroke of his tongue.

He liked your taste, he liked pleasuring you, he liked that you liked how good it felt to be given this type of attention. Attention he was sure you hadn’t rightfully experienced before.

You were eager for more but shy to ask. Joel, being the mind reader that he was, moved his hand that was dedicated to holding down your hip and brought it to glide up your slick. His wet tongue made slow figure-eights around your clit, broken moans tumbling from your mouth as you let your eyes dip open and then closed as waves of pleasure began to consume you in an even rhythm. Joel’s rhythm.

His mouth kissed at the inside of your thigh once more, having to bite down into the flesh to conceal his excitement. It made you smile and whine. You wanted the marks of his teeth, you wanted the prints of his hands on you. His were welcome.

He slowly sunk a finger into your pleading entrance, letting a breathy sigh enter the air above the two of you. The only sound in the empty bar was your eager moaning.

His mouth gave you much needed relief, your pussy taking his finger to the knuckle while his tongue continued to create generous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

That’s when you felt it. The it no one had given to you before. The it that left your mind blindsided.

He was only one finger inside of you but his tongue was working magic. You started to mewl out feverish moans of his name, the hand in his hair clenching tighter and causing a sting to radiate across his scalp. The leg hiked up on his shoulder was shaking, your heel digging into his back to guide him even closer if that was humanly possible.

“Joel, holy shit,” you whimpered, head coming up to look down at him. His lips and mustache were glistening in your slick. “I’m s-so close.”

You didn’t have to convince Joel like you had to convince the others. Your moans were authentic, your cries of passion genuine.

Joel listened, he kept his pace, the pace that had you shattering like a freshly broken mirror.

“J-.. Fuck Joel, your fingers,” you whimper, your walls fluttering around where he was pumping into you with just the one.

“Mhmmm?” He elongated in a questioning tone, not freeing his mouth from you to respond. He wanted you to say it. You threw your head back in frustration and nodded quickly with your chin to the ceiling.

“A-Another, another finger.” You groan out. You could feel his smirk plastered against your clit, feeling his cheeks raise with his smile against your shaking thighs.

You don’t need to ask twice. Joel’s inserting a second finger and you can feel yourself stretching for him. He picks up his pace again and the it you’ve been fantasizing about is happening.

Your toes curl, the heel of your foot still indenting into his back as you let out heavy pants into the air. Your back arches as your walls tighten around his fingers while Joel curls them in the perfect spot, your hand fisting the edge of the table as you searched for words to resemble how good he was making you feel.

Joel kept untying your knots, plucking open one after the other, after the other, until-

“Holy f-fuck! Joel!” Your body convulsed with your orgasm, your hard nipples peaking in your dress as your lower half started to grind against his mouth for the ultimate finish. You were seeing white, your moans and the squelching noise your wetness made filled the room.

His fingers worked you down from your orgasm, your chest rising and falling as you came back to life. Freshly resuscitated after a life-altering orgasm. And one you didn’t have to fake.

His fingers were covered in your cum-mixed arousal, he didn’t waste any time sucking them clean as his eyes connected with yours. An exhausted whimper left your throat. Your lips were pouty, eyes as wide as a doe as you sat up to face him.

He pushed himself off his knees, your leg dangling free from his shoulder.

Your foreheads came to rest against one another, both taking a breath to collect yourselves. His beard definitely gave your thighs a little burn rash, but with how good he made you feel, the slight pain was worth all the pleasure.

“I’ve never had someone go down on me on a pool table.”

Your fingers aimlessly drew circles in the felt, your other hand reaching up to swipe your thumb clean across his bottom lip.

“Ever been fucked on a bar?” His eyes dark and tantalizing, his voice lacking true emotion and replacing it with grit and lust. Good. That’s the last thing you want right now. You don’t need emotions tonight.

“Mm-mm.” You said as you shook your head, the two of you wearing matching smirks.

You were glad you and Joel were on the same page. Neither of you seemed interested in anything more than sex tonight.

Joel was about to help you down from the pool table, a wave of heat splashing your already warm face. He turned back when you dropped hold of his hand, lightly squirming on the table.

“Just-” You’re a bit embarrassed, you don’t want him to feel sympathetic. “I need a minute. For my legs.” You gave him a shy smile, and he wore a crooked cocky one in return.

You glanced down as you tested a foot on the floor. Your stems felt like jelly, as if you had just run a marathon, but really, Joel was just pulling an earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Joel was quick to shake his head, his body coming back to yours.

“Don’t need you walkin’ barefoot on the floor. I’m a little behind on cleanin’ up the place.” His words made you stifle a laugh.

He was okay with eating you out on the pool table and fucking you on his bar, but god forbid you might step on something sticky.

You wonder if it’s because he feels protective of you. He wasn’t going to let some dickhead break your arm tonight. Not in his bar.

“I’m fine.” You say as you haul yourself up, planting your palm into his bicep for leverage while you put on one heel and then the other. You could walk on your own.

“You wanna fuck me on your bar, baby? You do this with all the girls?” You ask as the heels clicked on the floor, one after the other.

His pace catches up with you, dark eyes watching your every move like a predator meeting prey. It would scare you if you didn’t know how good he was with his tongue.

“Only the real pretty ones with delicious tasting cunts.”

Your lips parted at his words, merely watching as his pace kicked up a notch. You felt your back slam against the bar as Joel consumed your front and he was kissing you once more.

His kiss was magnetizing, commanding. Open your mouth for me. Let me taste you.

You obeyed, feeling him slip in and have his taste. Your hands reached for your dress that was bunched around your stomach, pulling your lips from Joel though he was apprehensive to let you do so. The material tangled your hair but you were quickly tossing your dress aside, eager to have him back in your space.

His eyes lingered on your tits, his mouth on yours, but now his hands- god, his hands, they were massaging and cupping them in his palm.

You let out a strangled whimper as he pinched your nipple between two fingers, still sensitive from your orgasm across the room.

He enjoyed watching you squirm, your jelly legs already coming back.

“So fuckin’ greedy.. Can barely hold yourself up.” Joel’s words were gritty, lost in the depths of his heady lust. You wondered how big he was, you could see the heavy outline through his jeans.

While he played with your tits, his mouth now slobbering on your nipple and making your core tremble, your hands were on his old leather belt. Pulling the excess to the side and flicking open the pin.

He takes over, pushing down his jeans to the tops of his thighs. You smile seeing his dark green briefs, the same green as his henley.

“I guess we’re both matching tonight.” You teased, snagging your pointer finger into his briefs and tugging until it snapped back into his waist.

“Turn around pretty girl, wanna feel that pretty pussy around my cock.”

Your stomach was already bottoming out, all those knots Joel had untied on the pool table were now forming again.

You whimpered as you eagerly turned around, your saliva covered tits now plastered to the bar as you bent over it. The bartop gave you a shiver, considering how cold it felt while bare.

You whipped your head to the side when you could hear him shifting out of his boxers, his belt clattering with his movements. You flicked your hair out of your way as you tried to get a look at his lower half but he was flushed behind you in no time at all.

Joel wrapped his hand around his base, his other hand on your hip as he guided you to stand between two barstools. He slid his tip in your fresh arousal, smirking as he watched you grip the edge of the bar.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ girl. Need a man to make you feel good, not a boy.”

His words released a whimpery moan from you while you nodded, each time his tip teased your entrance made your heart race just a beat faster with anticipation.

“Need you, Joel.”

He nods, his open palm splayed on your lower back and right hip as he admired the curve of your ass.

“So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed.

“Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him.

Your cunt was in shock, your tight walls clenching desperately around him as you began to flood over him with your arousal.

You began panting into the wood of the bar, the pain greeting you in a hot flash.

“Oh f-... god,” your knuckles were white gripping the backside of the bar. You could hear Joel behind you, moaning at the way your walls expanded graciously for them.

“Good girl, alright baby, come on, baby,” His voice was heavy, wrapped up in his lust as he hiked up one of your legs and set it on the barstool. “So fuckin-” his heavy breath fanned across your back as he pulled he retracted his hips, “perfect for me.” He said as he reeled them back in, filling you to the max.

Your leg up on the barstool released a new angle for the two of you, your eyelashes fluttering as Joel found a previously undiscovered spot.

He started slow, letting your body adjust to him. How could someone as good-looking as Joel be humble about a dick like this? And he knew how to fucking use it.

You were trying to moan his name, but they just kept coming out in hot pants.

“Joel, Joel, fuck Joel!” The pleasure had now replaced the pain, a sweet sting at your core every time he ground his hips into you just right.

Joel’s thrusts never wavered, they were deliberate and calculated as he filled you to the brim. His cologne was invading your senses, mixed with his sweat.

He collected your hair in a loose ponytail, peeling your face off the bartop as your chin angled up to the ceiling. The pool table may have been for you, using his mouth to get off. But now, this was for Joel. Joel was using you good and hard, and you fucking loved it. You loved that you were what he needed tonight, and vice versa.

The sound of Joel’s hips clapping against your ass echoed throughout his bar, your hand coming back to grip onto his forearm for some sort of leverage. Some sort of control. Some sort of… anything.

But Joel made it clear that he was in charge tonight.

His tempo edged you. Once you fell close to another crashing orgasm, his thrusts feeling like they were hitting you at a million miles an hour, suddenly slowed to the flow of bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. It was torturous the way he had you mewling out his name in desperation one moment and then the next, he had you whining for more. But every time you neared the finish line, the overwhelmingness of it all was stronger, and you knew Joel felt it too.

Joel didn’t want you just to feel good, he wanted to change how you saw sex. No more laziness from a partner, no more vanilla positions, no more faking orgasms. This was what it felt like to be fulfilled by the real thing.

No matter how hard he tried, both of you were losing strength to put up with the passing of another orgasm.

“J-Joel-” He could barely hear his name with the sound of his front snapping into your behind. “I’m so- fuck me,- I’m so c-close,” You were sure to have bruises on your hips tomorrow, the wooden edge of the bar being nailed into you. “I’m close, please!” you whined, beginning to throw yourself into each of his thrusts which worked up a good grunt from him.

“Feel so fuckin’ good around my cock,” you twisted your head back as you felt his arm snare around your hip, his fingers slowly circling around your sensitive bud. You were gasping for air, seeing stars as he actually fed you what you wanted. He was ready to let you cum.

Your eyes weakly watched him as he fucked you over his bar. Eventually, you had to push yourself off of the front because it was pinning your hips into numbness. Your leg came down from the barstool, your back still bent over as you used your palms to flush against the edge of the bar to hold yourself up. Your head whipped back again as you became obsessed with observing him.

“You like watchin’ me fuck you, sweetheart? Little fuckin’ troublemaker.”

There were no words, it was too late. Your head dropped as your nails chipped into the wood, letting out a cry of his name as Joel continued to untie the knots in your stomach, all of them falling loose until you came.

You heard him let out a long and low groan, your barely-open eyes turning back to watch the sight of Joel finishing.

Joel could feel your walls pulsing desperately around his swollen cock, his fingers getting a little messy with your clit but he kept at it, he wasn’t going to disappoint you. That’s when it hit him, where he couldn’t hold on anymore.

He spilled his white hot cum into you, rope after rope until it was coming out in shorter streams inside your cunt. You and Joel were moaning in unison as you both finished together.

After a few moments to breathe, you gently pat his hand that was rubbing lazy circles in your clit, feeling his warm palms move to your hips as you slowly straightened out together.

You flipped your messy hair out of your face, smirking tiredly as you looked over him while he tugged his jeans and briefs back up on his hips, your eyes hypnotized by watching his rough and calloused hands easily secure his belt on.

“Uhm..” You paused as you shyly searched around for your dress a few barstools down. You went to retrieve it, Joel taking it from your hands and slipping it back on your body. You watched his face, his eyes looked through you.

Your thumb came up to his lips, watching as he did a minute flinch with how fast your hand invaded his space.

“Relax,” you tease, swiping away the red lipstick of yours that melted on the edge of his pretty mouth. He slowly relaxed as he watched you clean yourself from him, his warm palms still holding your aching hips.

You sighed, your body and mind tired from being completely blown out. Your feet were sore from your heels, you were ready to take this dress and makeup off for good tonight.

You watched with a teasing smile as Joel did a shitty job with a wet rag cleaning up where you were thrust against his bar, shaking your head at him.

“Missed a spot.”

He tutted dryly. “Funny.”

You collected your clutch and your other belongings, seeing the spot at the end of the bar where the ice you had thrown at Chris had long ago melted and was now a puddle on the floor.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” Joel’s voice erupted from behind you.

Your hand clutched the stray 8 ball on the pool table Joel had you laid out on, dragging it to the corner pocket before you went to meet him at the door. He unlocked it to let you out, even going up the concrete steps with you.

“It’s fine, Joel.”

He shrugs and shakes his head, looking past you once more.

“I know. Just wanna make sure you get in the cab alright.” He waved up his hand and stepped into the street, signaling a car until one pulled up to you both. You didn’t know what time it was, how late it had gotten. You probably had several missed messages from your friends to hear how your revenge breakup went. You couldn’t wait to tell them how tonight turned out for the better. Because of Joel.

Finally, he was really looking at you. And you had no idea what to say. Your lips parted, looking up at the older man who sort of saved your night.

Your eyes said it all. Thank you.

He just nodded and cocked his head towards the cab.

“Night, Joel.” You tugged open the door to the cab, tossing your purse in the backseat before sliding in as gracefully as you could. You should forget about being graceful at this point after what you’ve done.

“You gonna tell me your name before you go?” How could his question come from curiosity but his voice was as cold and bare as ever. His hand was in the window of your cab, as if holding it in place from taking off on him.

His interest made you smirk, your hand playfully plucking his fingers free from his grip on the window before giving a little shrug and not saying a word.

His eyes stray from yours and look down the road, seeing him cross his arms in front of his broad chest before he continues. “Alright, fine.” He said with a little nod. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to ID’s when I check ‘em?” He says your name, testing the waters as a shy smile creeps on your lips, his cocky little smirk was enough to make your eyes roll. “That’s alright, I’ve been calling you Trouble all night anyway.”

You sighed tiredly and smiled, tapping the cab window. “Goodnight, Joel.” You say before falling back into your seat and giving the driver your address.

“Goodnight, Trouble.”

Joel saw you off before disappearing down the concrete stairs into the Blackbird, your fingers gently ghosting over your red lipstick as you watched the city fly by.

---

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tsumtsumrry · 11 months

Text

Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry.

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face.

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet.

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips.

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is.

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it.

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back.

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways.

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm.

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple,

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him.

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it.

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff.

When you��re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact.

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan.

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.”

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more.

“Show me. Take me home, H.”

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much.

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt.

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it.

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips.

“Whatever you want. Kiss?”

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle.

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something.

“Harry…”

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter.

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you.

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter.

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly.

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement.

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.”

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie.

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips.

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time.

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly.

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top.

“Wanna be my sous chef?”

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry.

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.”

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed.

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.”

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–”

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?”

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.”

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you.

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?”

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out.

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly.

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes.

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles.

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there.

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone.

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around.

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes a mental note to check on you later.

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer.

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture.

“Hello?”

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at.

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath.

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears.

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers.

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable.

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.”

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.”

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end.

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out.

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?”

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response.

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.”

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch.

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him.

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?”

“See you soon, petal.”

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry.

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs.

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder.

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response.

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that.

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face.

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth.

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out.

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you.

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group.

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love.

Dangerous.

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.”

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips.

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.”

Ever the flirt, he is.

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know.

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.”

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him.

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him.

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches.

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit.

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there.

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess.

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands.

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.”

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.”

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh.

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night.

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are.

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.”

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit.

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin.

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind.

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for.

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage.

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in.

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner.

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice.

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it.

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger.

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under.

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind.

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.”

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes.

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family.

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times.

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face.

Uh oh. You know that expression.

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?”

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind.

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.”

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow.

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face.

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims.

Your smile drops.

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore.

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date.

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman.

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless.

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone.

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse.

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over.

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break.

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.”

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go.

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,” you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.”

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home.

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes.

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say.

“I want you to meet—”

You can’t do it.

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up.

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now.

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears.

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt.

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry.

December 24, Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside.

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die.

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day.

Harry.

Over and over again.

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good?

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me.

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please?

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me.

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did.

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried.

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead.

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back.

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me.

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more.

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and go to open it nonetheless.

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door.

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here.

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck.

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put.

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―”

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.”

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―”

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.”

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face.

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest.

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours.

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips.

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes.

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it.

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little.

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—”

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression.

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication.

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–”

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away.

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply.

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs.

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout.

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind.

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time.

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word.

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes.

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels.

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours.

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you.

“I know, I know H.” you nod again.

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much.

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?”

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist.

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies.

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear.

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him.

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will.

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks.

“Do me a favor, honey?”

You nod eagerly.

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action.

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts.

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting.

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.”

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage.

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased.

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?”

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?”

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are.

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you.

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well.

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.”

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat.

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?”

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking.

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good.

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.”

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you.

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips.

“Did such a good job.”

“M’so proud of you.”

“You come so pretty.”

“So beautiful.”

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come.

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face.

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye.

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is.

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit.

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much.

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?”

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later.

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.”

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home.

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit.

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop.

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before.

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?”

“Meant what?”

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

December 31st, New Years Eve.

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist.

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks.

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life.

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him.

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks.

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you.

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look.

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb.

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold.

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look.

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?”

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

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blue-jisungs · 5 months

Note

AXIEIEEE hi this is a req ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ btw im on my way home to rec in my dreams rn!! anywayy i am SUCH a strong believer that jeonghan babies u no matter what or when. even in front of his members n theyre js like erm get a room? u cld literally say "hannie i made the bed" n he'd be all "omg my baby made the bed youre so cute" n then he kisses u ... do with this idea ish what u will!!! i believe in u cuz youre so good at writinf (btw your pinned says reqs are open but if they arent actually pleasee ignore this 😭)

proud

author's note. hi roxie meloved!! i hope u like ths one hehe, thank u for reqing <33 and again, good luck w exams if u have any more upcoming and im proud of u nevertheless the score!!!

word count. ~750

jeonghan is a devil in the disguise of an angel, everyone knows that. even carats adore his mischievous personality and tricks that he pulls on his members.

but the thing is that behind closed door, he truly is an angel. for you and only you.

“baby, do you want some coffee?” jeonghan asked, looking over his shoulder at you. his bare face was glowing, dark hair tucked behind his ear. he even let you put a hello kitty clip to keep them in one place. he was met with seungcheol’s teases but he ignored them.

“yes, please” you replied, eyes laser focused on the jenga tower in front of you.

it was 10 in the morning and you woke up like an hour ago from the sleepover you had with him and cheol. because they couldn’t join their members on tour, you decided to bless them with your amazing self.

“make me one too” cheol hummed and slowly but surely pulled out a wooden block.

now who jeonghan was to follow his leader’s orders?

you caught his cat-alike smirk painting on his lips and sighed.

“hannie, don’t be mean. make him a coffee too” you said, voice gentle. seungcheol looked at him confused, lips forming into a pout.

“listen to your partner…” he grunted and shook his head, adding more quietly underneath his breath “…if you don’t listen to me, listen to them at least”

couple of minutes later he joined you with three steaming cups. with your preferred coffee in your favorite mug and a simple one for seungcheol, even though he wasn’t a fan of plain black coffee. the oldest ignored that, just rolling his eyes.

you joined jeonghan to watch the boys practice, yet you two were slumped over the couch there.

in no time jeonghan began playing with your hair, fingers gently caressing through your h/c locks.

mingyu glared at you two curiously, nudging hoshi. the younger one grinned, heart melting upon the cute act of love blooming between you two.

jeonghan grabbed your face, cupping your cheeks and cooing at you.

“you’re so adorable, baby” he hummed and pecked your lips.

“but hannie, the boys–” you grunted through your squeezed cheeks. he just chuckled, mischievously smiling.

“i don’t care~” your boyfriend sing-sang happily “you’re my baby~”

placing another kiss on your lips, he hummed into it like a pleased cat that’s getting belly rubs.

“ew, get a room!” hoshi yelled, drawing a laugh from other members.

your cheeks turned beetroot red as you smacked jeonghan’s arm. he just shrugged and linked pinkies with you, playful smirk dancing on his features.

if jeonghan could, he’d give you the world, the stars, everything in this universe and back. and seeing you struggle or in pain was the last thing he wanted. but he knew that there are some things that you have to go through by yourself, like your finals.

“i could dress up as you and pretend i’m you!” your boyfriend teased one day when you clearly needed support, head almost blowing with the amount of knowledge you have to obtain.

so in times like this, when you’d spend nights studying and struggling with life, jeonghan knew that you need him. and that every thing, even a small one can be challenging.

“hannie, i made the bed today. i used a new–“ you started when he entered the bedroom. his eyes instantly went wide as jeonghan threw himself on the fresh sheets.

“ah, it smells so good!” he took a deep breath and hummed in delight. patting the spot next to him, he sent you a reassuring smile.

so you joined him, his arm almost instinctively wrapping around yours.

“my baby made the bed, good job” jeonghan smiled tenderly, brushing the strand hairs out of your face. you smiled, looking at his soft features “i’m proud, really. we’ll sleep comfortably tonight, hm?”

you nodded and turned, wrapping your arms around his waist and clinging onto your boyfriend like a koala.

“i’m tired” you mumbled quietly.

“i know, pretty. just a few moments more and you’ll rest. you’re so smart, you know? i believe in you” jeonghan kept reassuring you, his tender touch ghosting over your face “my cute baby, hm? no matter how you do on the exam, i’m proud of the effort you put in”

you smiled, inhaling the scent of fresh sheets and jeonghan’s cologne.

“my cutie…” he singsang and started lulling you to sleep with his angelic voice. not like you complained, you could use a nap either way.

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyu

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ollie-lolly · 1 year

Text

Royal treatment (18+) Diavolo x gender neutral reader

Note: HUGE thanks to @l3viat8an8an for giving me the inspiration to write this! (My dyslectic ass is dying HELP).

started and finished on: 13th of march 2023

Media: Obey me

Relationship: Diavolo x gender neutral reader

Warnings: This contains very suggestive content, minors please don't interact

This is part one. part two part three

Word count: 963

He just was so attractive, you could never quite put a finger on why you made that conclusion. Maybe it was his smile, the way he carried himself or it was his great round a-. "Mc what is going on in your little mind?" Diavolo's voice halted your train of thoughts. You quickly scrambled to keep the conversation going. His eyes seemed so innocent but had a dark playfulness to it, like he could exactly read whatever you were pondering about. "I was just reminiscing on an event that happened this month". Diavolo leaned in "Do tell". "W- Well I saw this really pretty ring in a jewelry store and it has not left my mind since". "It must be very special to you". "I suppose so! I have been working my butt off in Ristorante Six just to even get a chance of-".

"Sweet, sweet little human, why didn't you come to me earlier?". "For wha-" He came to your side. "Barbatos!΅. Barbatos being the great butler he is, came just around the corner. "Yes my lord?". "Could you get me something?". He gently put a hand on your back. "Go on, show him what you want". You shakingly grabbed your phone trying to maintain a normal breathing pattern. Desperately searching for the picture through your camera roll, when Diavolo's hand slowly went downwards. Eventually resting on your lower back. "H- here" You showed it to Diavolo first. "You have wonderful taste, would you like anything engraved on the inside?". "Your name would be lovely lord Diavolo".

You turned the phone towards Barbatos, he quickly eased the sexual tension "I'll be back within an hour or so" He bowed and gracefully left. "I- i am sorry i panicked, i didn't mean to say your name Lord Diavolo I-" Diavolo chuckled and softly grabbed your face. "Do you regret it? I can call him back if you want ". You felt your face heat up. "N- n- no i thought it was improper of me i am so sor- ". He softly placed the finger of his other hand on your lips, "Shhh, please don't be. I already rather enjoy the sound of your idea. Besides this is just a small gift, see it as a beginning of something new"

From then on, you found a small pile of gifts resting on the top of your bed almost every night. Each with a special note attached. You heard a notification:

Chat

Diavolo: Do you like the new gifts I sent you?

MC: Are you sure you sent this to the right person?

Diavolo: You humans have a lovely sense of humor!

MC: Lord Diavolo I was not joking, how could I repay you for all this?

Diavolo: Please sweet human, this is just play money. You deserve this and much for fundamentally serving as the avatars family therapist. With me you can finally have peace from such hard labor. Repaying me is really unnecessary, but if that's what you desire you are welcome to visit me tomorrow.

MC: I am looking forward to it!

Diavolo: So am i.

You had no idea how much he loved spoiling you. All of his belongings meant nothing to him next to you. His heart broke when he saw you the next day. "My little one you have been really quiet, are you okay?"

You looked up from your tea "Well, there is something bothering me. Remember back when you gave me the ring?". Diavolo looked at you, his hands neatly folded "Yes of course i remember". "Well" you looked at the very ring trying to form your sentence. "You said it was the start of something new. What did you mean by that? What did you wish for?". He laughed "Before we continue could you do me a favor?". "Yes sir". "Could you call your work for me?". Now that was something you did not expect. "There is something I have to discuss with the owner". You grabbed your phone, called your work and gave it to him, still finding it weird that he didn't use his own phone. "Hello i have come to say that MC is quitting their job, good day" you were left speechless.

"Now to come back to your topic and why I did that. I wish to change our relationship."

He opened a small drawer under the table. Revealing a small piece of paper with beautiful handwriting. He grabbed a small pot of ink with its matching quill. "This is what I want us to be. Recently I did some research and I found something that would suit us quite nicely. If you give me your treasured blessing, you will be my sugar baby from this point onward. Not much will change if that is what you wish. I will keep giving whatever your heart desires and you don't have to work for a single minute for it.

In return you give me your time and whatever romantic advancements you are comfortable with. Now I know this is a very important decision, you can take your time with your deci-". He got cut off by the quick scratching sounds of the quill hitting the fine paper. "I accept" Now it was his turn to be taken aback. "I- I guess we are moving on to the next step, how intimate do you want our relationship to be?" You put the quill neatly back in the ink pot. "Well if i call you daddy, does that answer your question?" His eyes widened "Well this is a pleasant surprise. My first request begins." He opened another drawer in the table and revealed a small wrapped gift. Proceeding to push it towards your direction. "Go change into this. Daddy will wait here, my little monarch".

#obey me #obey me x mc #obey me x y/n #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me smut #obey me!#obey me fanfic

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kangen-wanshi · 1 year

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"Can you say it again?" ft Akira Kurusu, Yusuke Kitagawa, Goro Akechi

He said the words "I love you", and you're not sure whether you hear him right or not. So, he repeats it with his own way.

Tags: fluff, kisses in Yusuke's part, a bit of spoiler in Akechi's

Akira Kurusu, He repeats it with his words

If you ask, he will say it again, and again, and again.

He loves you.

It makes you stop whatever you're doing, as you finally look up to his eyes.

Akira has always been blunt with his words. Though with his ability to change his persona, and his entire demeanor, sometimes it's difficult to see how much his words actually worth on first glance.

But with the amount of time he says it to you, with the repeated intensity, and with that glint of desperation and honesty in his gray orbs, you can't help but let yourself believe the three simple words that came out of his mouth.

If he manages to catch you off guard, he won't hesitate to proceed with his action. To prove it to you with more than just words past his lips.

He would approach you, intimately close. Lips barely ghosting your own, hands still tucked in his pockets, waiting for you to let him in.

If you reciprocate him with similar action, say, you close the gap between the two of you on your own accord, his hands would start wandering, and words just are not enough anymore to convey his feelings.

But if you stutter, lose your composure and express to him about how you need to proceed with his bluntness, he'll understand.

He is pretty bold. He knows he catches people off guard.

Still. While waiting, Akira will not hesitate to repeat those three words to you every now and then.

He would repeat it everyday if he could.

Don't keep him waiting though. There's nothing more that Akira wants but confirmation from you.

"I love you."

Yusuke Kitagawa, He repeats it with his kiss

Yusuke is a poet. He experiences life, and turns them into poetry. Whether it be through his words or his art.

But sometimes, he's willing to admit that no form of art but his own action can transpire the true desire in his heart.

And in this case, his affection for you.

Paintings, poetry, and many works of art have been a representation of his desire for your affection. A reflection of what he feels when he's by your side.

You're his muse. One that has your fingers wrapped tightly around his heart.

When he confessed, he's sure his feelings would transpire.

But you just stared at him, confused grin yet flustered face and furrowed brows, and dared to ask him to repeat himself.

Well if words are not enough for you he doesn't mind showing it with his action.

Yusuke is quick, and bold.

A hand behind your head, the other easily sneaked around your waist keeping you there close to him.

You're still given space to escape, of course. But when he senses not an inch of hesitation from you, he's gonna go all out.

"Do you hear the cries of love in which my heart longs for? It calls only for you, dear."

Goro Akechi, He repeats it with his eyes

Akechi, frankly, is good and bold with both his words and his actions.

He's loyal to you even after the reveal of his true self, he doesn't hesitate to lower his voice and make himself gentle around you just so you're not hurt by his thorns.

He's as protective as he is vocal about it.

Sometimes, he even confessed to you jokingly. Though with your flustered state that is real and honest, in comparison to his 'fake' persona, sometimes he's glad that you never see the true, deep longing he felt about you.

With how often he acts gentlemanly around you, and how often he treats you like a loyal person, it's difficult to find out whether the words "I love you" actually weigh something or not for someone like him.

That's why, when he whispered it to you quietly during a confession, you asked him to repeat himself with a grin on your face, hoping he would just brush his own words off like any other time.

But when you look at him, right in his eyes, you know that this one is different.

The way he keeps holding your gaze. His hands slowly hold yours, tighter by the second.

Akechi can't be trusted with his words. Or his actions. So that's why he hoped, he begged, that you would see his genuine love through his eyes.

"Can you see.. The transparency, and the truth behind my words now?"

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona x reader #persona 5 royal x reader #akira kurusu x reader #yusuke kitagawa x reader #akechi goro x reader #persona 5 x reader

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lizinthebox · 7 months

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Dirty Work

Pairing: Vernon x Fem Reader

CW: FWB Vernon, marking, mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this), pull out method (don’t do this either), implied breeding kink hair pulling, fluff at the end

A/N: this is not proofread at all, this is the 4th of my ot13 series (not being posted in age order), idk how much I really like it it’s very diff from what I usually write, if you enjoy please reblog! Just a note that my requests are open so feel free to leave some, my responses to them will all probably be under 1k words :)

W/C: 1k

“Holy fuck—” your eyes roll back as you feel Vernon’s lips start sucking all over your neck while he’s bottomed out inside you. His teeth graze past your skin while he moves from one spot to another, sinful noises filling the room. For the past month, this has been your reality: your friend-turned-fuck buddy treating you like his own personal fucktoy. Admittedly, you fucking loved it. The way he treated you like your only purpose was to bring him pleasure, while bringing you more pleasure than you had ever felt before.

Now, you’re on all fours on his bed, facing his giant mirror just watching while he makes a slut out of you. The feeling of his cock stroking your walls mixed with his mouth sinfully sucking on your neck makes your eyes close without you realizing. “Open your eyes for me baby, look at how good I make you feel,” he urges you, his words causing another wave of wetness to spill from you. You obey him and open your eyes to see mascara running all down your face, but more noticeably, red and purple marks on your neck, right where anyone could see them. You have no time to worry about how you’ll cover it up for work, or what your friends will say when they undoubtedly see it, right now all you can do is tell Vernon exactly how you feel about him.

“I love when you mark me, baby,” you tell him between moans, nothing but the truth coming out of your mouth. Even if there are consequences to what he’s doing to you, you’ll never care as long as he’s making you feel this good. Your words urge him to try to hit you even deeper, something that seemed impossible to you. He slows his strokes down a little to focus on giving you every inch of him. “Fuck, Vernon please don’t stop,” you choke out in response.

“Good girl, take my fucking cock,” he replies, pushing down on your lower back with one hand. Good girl? That was a new one. In your weeks of sleeping together, Vernon had called you almost every name in the book, but this one did something different to you. All of a sudden, your head started spinning, feeling his hard cock so deep inside you it felt like he was in your stomach. He could tell how much you loved it by the way your body started going weak. He took this as his chance to wrap a hand around your hair, tugging just enough to pull your neck back up. The slight pain you feel in the back of your head from his grip makes you whimper, not because it hurts, but because you never want him to let go. He keeps fucking into you, chasing his own high that your moans and whimpers of his name cause.

“Vernon, please,” you beg, overwhelmed with pleasure and pain at the same time. You don’t want him to stop until he empties himself into you. But you know that will never happen, not before you two even figure out what you are. The thought of him filling you up, coupled with his hand still tangled in your hair drives you over the edge. “Fuck, I’m cumming–” you can barely get out as the tension at the bottom of your stomach finally releases. Vernon’s messy thrusts and inability to form words apart from your name and curses signals that he’s not far behind you.

“Fuck, baby I’m cumming,” he barely pulls out of you in time to paint your back. You feel the warmth of his seed on you, shamefully wishing he’d just cum inside of you. Without thinking, he flips you over and pulls you up toward him, locking your lips together in a kiss. His sudden sweetness is endearing to you, how he can go from fucking you like a slut to kissing you like you’re his wife. You run your fingers through his hair, damp and a little messy from the last thirty minutes. “Let’s get cleaned up, I think I’m gonna have to change the sheets before we go to sleep,” he says, looking directly at the spot on his sheets where he missed your back.

“You’re letting me stay over?” you ask innocently. Every time you and Vernon had slept together you’d gone home after, so you’re a bit taken off guard by his implication that you’re spending the night.

“I’m not letting you stay, I want you to,” he corrects you. Your heart flutters at his words, hoping this means he’s catching feelings for you the way you are for him. You go to his bathroom to wash up while he changes the sheets, jaw dropping at how many red and purple marks Vernon left on you. You worry about how they’ll look tomorrow, but you don’t really have it in you to care too much right now. Your still-wobbly legs take you back into Vernon’s room where he’s waiting for you with the covers pulled down on one side of the bed.

“Thanks for not kicking me out this time,” you tease, not wanting Vernon to know how happy you really are that you get to spend the night in his bed.

#svt smut #svt fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #vernon x reader #vernon smut

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ma1dmer · 7 months

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The Elder Scrolls - Miraak NSFW

i read a very specific smut fic,,,,,girl,,,,,,,

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): he let's you stay close to him as he returns to his 'research' ,he’ll let you place your head on his lap and play with your hair as you drift off to sleep

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): he loves your mouth, will trace his fingers over your lips before every kiss, or simply shove them into your mouth for you to wet, getting distracted by the warmth and the way your tongue circles each digit as you look up at him

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): definitely has a breeding kink, always growls about the possibility of knocking you up right as he is about to cum, telling you to be good for him and not let anything leak out

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): his imagination runs quite wild, has some fantasies that he sometimes brings up in the form of dirty talk but so far hasn’t actually sat you down to discuss about fulfilling them , some include using some magic on you, maybe some of the stuff he has learned throughout his time under hermaeus mora and some of fucking you as a group of his followers watch

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): he has a lot of experience, he is the first dragonborn , and even without the big title and ego, he has been alive for so long, this man fucked and still fucks

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): you on your knees or bent over some surface, your legs and arms restrained so he has full access to your body, his hands bruising your hips

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): he is definitely more serious, he can be quite intense and he does enjoy the way he can make you nervous, he’ll chuckle about how you are scared but your body still reacts to him

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): he is very hairy but keeps himself surprisingly tidy

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): he can be quite the charmer, he enjoys a bit of a classical courtship sometimes, playfully trying to woo you, wants to play the role of finally winning you over before he has his way with you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): he’d much rather have someone else to help him but if he can’t , he likes to take his time , does some light edging on himself and thinks of how he'd like your next meeting to go, how he’ll have you scream for him

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): bdsm, praise and degradation etc

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): has no shame, after being in apocrypha for so long where privacy probably wasn’t much of a thing he just got used to being watched, would honestly not care if someone walked in on you

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): submission, he wants to see you kneel for him, wants you to expose yourself for him and plead, leave yourself at his mercy

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): not much he couldn't be convinced into trying at least once with the right wording

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): loves cock warming , loves having you on your knees simply letting you do your thing for hours before he remembers you are there and thrusts up in the heat of your mouth

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): it really depends ,he is definitely rougher, but whether he goes slowly or not is up to his mood

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): wants to take his time with you , he has nothing but time in his hand, hates being rushed

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): he generally knows what he likes but is more than happy to indulge your interests every now and then

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): he has a lot of stamina and a lot of pent up frustration to burn out

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): wants to watch you use various toys on yourself, things he bought or made for you, telling you exactly how to use them and constantly stopping you right as you get close to finishing because he wants to make you cum himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): can be quite mean with his teasing in and out of bed

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): he does not stay silent, he groans deeply and speaks a lot ,no reason to keep quite, he wants you to hear how much he is enjoying himself

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): he is surprisingly sensitive, loves when you rake your nails over his chest or when you drag your teeth over his throat, he always has to restrain you just so he can keep more of a semblance of control, otherwise he gets lost in the pleasure of your touch

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): i wish i could say he is compensating for something with that ego of his, but its big and it curves slightly

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): he has a really high sex drive but has a very good grasp on his needs, always weighs his options, does he want you right now, or does he want to wait for later in the night so he can take his time

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): i don't think he sleeps very well in general, he'd never admit so but having somebody next to him definitely helps a lot

#miraak #miraak x reader #miraak smut #elder scrolls #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls smut #the elder scrolls smut #tes smut #the elder scroll x reader #elder scrolls x reader #skyrim smut #skyrim x reader #.writing

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train-wrecc · 1 year

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Here For You

Marcus Baker x female!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings!: mentions of depression, anxiety, a panic attack, i think that’s all…

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Y/n knew Marcus could struggle with his depression and anxiety at times, so she tried her best to be there for him, whenever he needed her, she was right there.

She was always trying to remind him all the time of the love she had for him. To support him in his darkest times.

From the simple things, like cuddling him until he finally felt something, to cooking him something and making sure he ate every last bite no matter how long it took him. She was there when the world just felt like too much for him.

Marcus stared off into space, seemingly out of it. Y/n had been talking to the boy, he could see her lips forming the words, but couldn’t hear what they produced. All of a sudden it’s like every person walking past the pair had their eyes glued to him, staring at him. The murmuring of students talking amongst themselves somehow seemed to get louder. The squeaking of their beat-up sneakers meeting the shiny linoleum floor sounded at max volume. It’s as if all at once he was hearing everything and nothing at all. His heart seemed to ache, and clench, his throat feeling as if it was closing up, losing his ability to breathe in oxygen. His eyes clamped shut, hands flying to his ears trying to stop the loud chaotic noises which flowed through them. He took in deep gasps of air trying to regulate his breathing. “One, two, three, four, five.” He murmured, his face stuffed into his legs which he’d pulled toward his chest.

“What’d you say?” Y/n turned to the boy, she had been ranting about family problems, as she looked into the distance.

Her eyes were met with the boy huddled, panic radiating off of him in waves. How could she have not noticed he had been having a panic attack? “Oh god, Marcus, hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, look at me bub, okay?” She told him, her hands lifting his head to face her. Tears welled up in the boy's eyes, as he silently wished he could just disappear, as he continued to take deep shaky breaths in, the more he tried to regulate his breathing the more erratic his heartbeat got.

Y/n brought her hands to Marcus' face, gently caressing his jaw in soothing circular motions. “Focus on me honey, everything’s gonna be okay.” She said calmly, nodding her head to him. She gently grasped his hand, placing his hand against her wrist, “Squeeze my wrist, feel my heartbeat..” Her other hand moved to clasp the back of his neck.

Marcus's breathing had somewhat slowed, however, it was still beating quite fast, “Bub, I want you to tell me five things you can see, okay?”

The boy nodded quickly, “The- the lockers…, my-my shoes, that b-blue recycling bin, an old book …- on the floor, a p-poster.” He took a deep breath, stuttering out his answers, continually trying to calm himself.

“Good, okay, you’re doing great baby, now tell me four things you can feel,” She said his hand now being held in one of hers.

“I c-can feel the cold AC, the hard brick wall b-behind me, y-your… h-hand in mine, the material of m-my hoo-... hoodie.” He let out.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re amazing bub,” She responded placing a kiss on his hand, “Now give me 3 things you can hear, okay,”

He inhaled a deep breath, before exhaling, “A locker being s-shut, laughing, and… m-music.”

“Good, you’re doing even better baby, now 2 things you can smell, okay,”

“Y-your perfume, and oranges…” He says, letting out a deep sigh.

“Now, 1 thing you can taste,”

“I can’t taste shit right now, Y/n/n” he lets out a laugh, burying his head into the crook of her neck.

“Alright, alright,” She giggled, running her hands through his brown strands of hair.

Marcus let out another deep sigh, continuing to nuzzle his face deep into his girlfriend’s neck, taking in the scent of her comforting perfume, his breathing much less erratic.

“Better?”

“Yeah..” He whispers, voice shaky still.

The bell rang as the couple sat in the hall still, wrapped in their own little bubble, Y/n trying to protect Marcus from the world.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

However, it had come to the point where Y/n’s sole focus was Marcus and nothing else. Not herself, not her school work. She was so deeply in love with the boy, she’d truly do anything for him.

These past few weeks had been especially hard on both, Y/n and Marcus. It was the 1 year anniversary of Marcus's best friend's death.

Marcus laid in bed most days, not having been to school for more than a week. Something as simple as brushing his teeth seemed to be too difficult of a task to do.

He felt completely and utterly alone no matter how much Y/n tried to hug him so tightly he’d feel her immense love for him.

Y/n hadn’t been feeling the best either, to be honest. Trying to be positive for Marcus all the time was draining her. Seeing him so depressed and lacking motivation seemed to be taking quite a toll on her, leaving her feeling useless, not being able to help her boyfriend, no matter how desperately she wanted to.

Most days she spent twisting and turning all night, exhausted but unable to sleep. Her mornings consisted of drinking coffee to give her some form of energy throughout the day and covering her under-eye bags with hefty amounts of concealer.

Y/n sat at the lunch table, barely able to keep her eyes open. Continuously shutting them, then having to practically pry them open, “You alright, Y/n/n?” Abby questioned the girl which looked anything but alright.

“M’fine,” She responded, plastering a false smile on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Abby nodded in response, obviously not believing the girl.

“How’s Marcus been doing?” The redhead decided to ask.

“Not so good, I just wish there was something I could do to help him. It’s the worst he’s been in a while, and I try and try, but nothing seems to help,” She shakes her head in disappointment at herself.

“Maybe he just needs some space to heal on his own…?”

“I don’t want him to think I don’t care about him anymore or, or worse, that I’ve stopped loving him because of some mental illness.”

Abby nodded, saying nothing more, and just being there for her friend.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

By the end of the school day, Y/n wasn’t feeling too well but decided she’d stop by Bluefarm and get Marcus his favorite dish from the restaurant in another feeble attempt at trying to somewhat cheer the boy up, or at least motivate him to sit up and eat, he was skinny already, and had been getting thinner as the days went on.

Y/n opened the front door to the Baker household and walked in. She and Marcus had been dating for a little over a year, and most days she was at his house, which was basically a second home to her.

Ellen had even given her a key. Y/n entered the house and is met with Max sprawled out on the couch in the living room, scrolling on her phone.

“Hey, Max, any changes?”

“Nope, nada, zilch.”

“I even offered to show him my old cringy TikTok’s. He didn’t even respond!” She shrugged.

She silently nodded, turning and rolling her eyes at the girl, like cringy TikTok’s were gonna magically cure her twin brother's crippling depression. At times Y/n felt bad for Marcus, him having to take the backseat all the time due to his sister always having to be the center of attention.

The girl made her way upstairs to check on Marcus. Walking in she was met with his mess of a room, and him lying in bed which had become his permanent spot as of recently.

“Hey bub, I brought you your favorite!” Y/n cheerily told the boy, slightly wiggling the bag at him.

The boy’s worn-out brown eyes burned into the wall behind her. The only response she received was him turning to face the opposite side of his bed, away from Y/n. She let out a quiet sigh, setting the food down on Marcus's side table. Her eyes glanced over the mess of the room, figuring she might as well try and clean up his room a little while she was there.

Y/n began grabbing the clothes that were haphazardly thrown around the room, and placing them in the hamper. After she began grabbing all the trash in the room, which ranged from old soda cans to bags of chips which she didn’t even want to know how long they’d been there for. The trash made a noise as they fell into the trashcan causing Marcus to turn and look at what his girlfriend was doing.

“What are you doing?” He questioned in a monotone voice, almost sounding like a statement rather than a question.

Y/n looked up, a smile growing on her face at the boy speaking. “Trying to tidy up your room for you, Y’know maybe it'll make you feel a little better, being in a clean space-”

“Can you just not, Y/n… I don’t need you to clean my room for me, okay?” The girl silently nodded at the boy who seemed to be a little upset at her for trying to help him.

“Did you hear when I said I got you Bluefarm?”

“Yes, I heard you the first time Y/n, I’m not deaf like my dad.” The boy said with a bite to his tone, even mustering the ability to roll his eyes at her. Marcus wasn’t exactly sure as to why he was acting like such a dick. Maybe it had to do with Y/n always being there, he didn’t have any space for himself. No time to deal with his depression by himself, and people always crowding him, pushing themselves onto him. He just needed time. It especially irritated him when Y/n did things like this, doing everything for him. He felt like a fucking useless baby.

“Okay,” Y/n murmured quietly, pursing her lips.

“Well, uh, do you want me to get anything for you, water? Or-”

“No, can you just stop Y/n, I- I don’t want your help okay? I’m not a fucking useless child, stop treating me like one. God, if I wanted you here, I would’ve texted you, okay? If -if I had wanted to talk to someone I would’ve called my fucking therapist, so can you just leave, okay, I don’t want you here. I just wanna be by myself for a little, but clearly, that’s too fucking much to ask of you.” He angrily spat at the girl.

Y/n’s eyes widened more and more at each sentence that left the boy's mouth. She nodded, not knowing what to say. She turned before he could see the tears forming in her eyes, quickly running down the stairs and out of the house, without uttering a word to anyone.

She slammed the door to her car, and it was as if it was a dam breaking. The salty tears streamed down her face, warming her cheeks. All she had wanted was to be there for him, help him. But he clearly didn’t want her help. She had gotten that now.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Y/n woke up the next morning her eyes swollen, and aching. She laid in bed, not going to school that day. She didn’t feel like dealing with anyone today. The night before she had come home a mess, still crying silently. Her parents immediately knew something had happened with Marcus, Y/n rarely cried like this, they had given her space and told her she could stay home for the next few days if she wanted.

She let out a sigh, Marcus's words from last night still on repeat in her brain. She got up, slapping some water on her face, before going downstairs to her kitchen, wrapped up in the warmth of her comforter. She grabbed a pint of her favorite ice cream before settling on the couch in the living room, creating a nest for herself. She turned the TV on to watch Scooby-Doo in an attempt to take her mind off things.

She had gotten a couple of texts from Abby, all asking why she wasn’t at school or where she was, however, she couldn’t be bothered to respond, shutting her phone off.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Y/n hadn’t been to school or visited Marcus in a few days, leaving Marcus to feel guilty for saying the cruel things he had. He did need space, but he shouldn’t have told her it the way he did. The space had left him missing Y/n, but it also made him realize how dependent he was on her, and her on him. After the weeks he’d spent bathing in this deep depression he finally felt a little better. His mind felt somewhat clear now, not as lost and muddled as before. He got up and took a shower, the first shower in a few days which he was sort of ashamed of. The shower was good for him, helping him feel better. He changed his bedsheets, before returning to his bed. He had gotten up, and showered, he figured that was more than enough progress in a day than he had made in a while.

His phone dinged with a message from Abby, which read, “Hey, has Y/n been to visit you? She hasn’t been to school in a couple of days now. She’s not responding to my texts… whenever I go over her parents always tell me she’s sleeping. I’m worried about her.”

Marcus wasn’t sure how to respond to the message, clearly, this had something to do with him going off on Y/n. “No, I kind of went off on her a few days ago. I didn’t mean to, I was just frustrated and took it out on her.” He typed.

Another text came in, “After everything she’s done for you, Marcus? Really? God, guys are so dumb. Did you apologize?”

“No… I know I need to but I just needed some space…” He sent.

“Well, now you’ve got it, huh.”

Abby was right, he was dumb.

Marcus sighed, he knew he had to go apologize to Y/n however he just couldn’t bring himself to get out of his bed again. He had decided he’d go the next day and make things right.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Marcus had done it. He was out of his bed and stood on the steps of Y/n’s house. It was around the middle of the day, and he could see her parent’s cars were nowhere in sight, meaning Y/n was the only one home.

He rang the doorbell, expecting to hear footsteps, something, however, he was met with silence. He stood there for a few seconds, reaching up to ring the doorbell once again. And once again, silence. So, he rang the doorbell, again, again, again, and again. He knew Y/n was stubborn but so was he, and he wouldn’t leave until she at least answered the door.

He heard feet stomping toward the door, finally, he thought. “What the fuck is wrong with you!” The girl practically ripped the door from its hinges, her voice dripping in anger and annoyance. When her eyes met his her eyes widened as did his. His beautiful girlfriend stood wrapped in a blanket, her hair a mess atop her head and eyes bloodshot red, lips chapped. The girl attempted to slam the door on him, but he stopped it with his foot in between the door and the frame.

“Bub, please.” He pleaded.

“You wanted space Marcus, I’m giving you space.” She responded, her voice slightly raspy. She pushed his foot out, closing the door, and trotted off angrily. Y/n knew technically she had no right to be angry at Marcus, but it was either that or feeling bad for herself, and she had enough of the latter. He wanted space, so he was gonna get it and maybe it’d be good for her as well.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

Y/n had returned to school the day after, she hated getting behind on work. Marcus wasn’t anywhere to be seen. However, Y/n was surprised to see him at school the following day, immediately darting off in the opposite way of his direction. She ignored him like the plague.

Marcus had had enough space it had been almost a week of Y/n ignoring Marcus. He had tried everything to try and catch her at school to talk, but she always somehow managed to slip away from him. He figured she had needed space as well so he respected that, but he was tired of this.

Marcus once again stood outside of Y/n’s house, this time he had a different approach, an approach he was quite used to using. The window, it never failed him. He had successfully climbed the tree by her window, attempting to pull the window. Which listened, being pulled up. Success, he thought. He stumbled into the girl's room, once a common occurrence.

The girl looked up hearing the crash of something, pulling one of her headphones out, as she glanced up quickly before returning to her homework. Wait a minute- she looked up again, Marcus.

A sigh escaped her lips, returning her headphone to her ear. Just ignore him, give him space, she thought to herself.

“Y/n please, are you seriously going to ignore me, when I’m standing right in front of you, talking to you.”

Silence.

He walked to her bed, and sat in front of her, as she continued to work on her homework. Reaching up to her ear, he pulled one of her earbuds out.

“Marcus, stop it.”

“Come on y/n/n, can we just talk, please.” He said, gesticulating as he spoke.

She snatched her earbud from him as he spoke, placing it back in her ear.

“Are you serious right now?” He questioned.

Her eyes remained glued to her homework. This time he grabbed both of the earbuds, shoving them into his pocket.

“Marcus, seriously, you’re beginning to piss me off.” She muttered through clenched teeth.

“Good at least I can get something out of you other than silence.” He replied.

“Get out. I want you to leave.” Marcus sat there for a second, “Now, Marcus.” Her tone became slightly higher in pitch as she got angrier by the second.

“Y/n-”

“I’m trying to give you the space you so desperately want Marcus.” She said, getting up and marching toward her bedroom door.

“I’m-”

“Marcus, leave before I shove you out the fucking window, or worse get my dad.” The words flew from her mouth harshly.

He swallowed as she gripped the door knob. His eyebrows pulled together, unsure of what to do.

“Pease, y/n/n,”

She turned to open the door, but before she could leave he pulled her against him, and into an embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He whispered to her.

Y/n froze for a second, missing the feeling of his arms around her, but she broke out of those thoughts, shoving him off of her, “You don’t want to leave fine then, I’ll leave,” She said. She hastily made her way downstairs, Marcus, following behind her, no longer caring if her dad saw him. She walked past her parents in the living room, sliding her slippers on that were strewn by the front door, beginning to walk out and onto the driveway. It must’ve begun sprinkling while they had been in Y/n’s room, feeling small droplets falling on their skin.

“Y/n, where are you going!”

“Away from you Marcus! Did it occur to you that maybe you’re not the only one who needs space!” She said walking into the street, she wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew it was away from him. The boy that had hurt her deeply, after she tried and tried to help him. After she put him and his needs, and wants, before her very own.

As she stomped away from the boy, rain began to pelt down harder.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, okay! I’m an asshole! I don’t know what more you want from me!” He shouted over the rain.”That’s the problem, Marcus!” She shouted back, wiping her wet hair away from and out of her face. Marcus gazed at the girl, his eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“I- I love you, Marcus, so much!” She continued to yell over the rain, “I do everything and anything you want, to make you happy, to help you! But it’s like, you don’t even notice it, you don’t appreciate it! And fine, that’s okay, I can accept that because I love you! You ask for space, I give you space! I want space, and you can’t respect that! You- you climb through my window and invade my space! I would never speak to you again, Marcus, if that’s what you wanted, no matter how much it would pain me to do, I’d do it! I just- sometimes I think I love you too much for my own good! I love you more than I love myself! But, I don’t care! I just- I want to know that you love me, as much as I love you! That you truly missed me, my presence! Because, sometimes it feels like you don’t, Marcus!” She sniffled, her tears mixing with the rain, the pair shivering in the cold of the rain.

Marcus remained quiet as he took in his girlfriend's words.

“I-” Y/n’s voice was shaky and raspy, “I know you struggle with your depression and anxiety, and I know that I’ll never know what that’s like, and If I could I would take all that away, so you wouldn’t have to go through all that, Marcus! Believe me, I would do it, in a heartbeat, but I can’t.. So I’m here! Here when you need me! Here when you want me! Here when you don’t need me! It’s draining, Marcus! I’m- I’m so tired! This most recent state of yours, I couldn’t sleep because I was so worried about you! Because I always put myself before you! And it’s not your fault, I don’t want you to think that this is on you or your depression, because it’s not, it’s me! I can’t stop loving you! I- I can’t stop needing you! I can’t stop being there for you! I don’t even know who I am without you! I’m- I’m nothing… without you!” Y/n sobbed, her hands clasped against her head, frustrated with herself, teeth beginning to chatter.

Marcus couldn’t tell if the droplets on his face, were from tears or the rain, or both.

“Maybe, maybe, we’re not meant to be together Marcus, because this… it’s not healthy. I didn’t want to admit it but… I depend on you too much. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last before I fall asleep. You deserve someone, someone who’s not so clingy. Someone who can truly help you through your depression, who can help you stay afloat. Someone better than me.” Y/n spoke, her throat beginning to ache from all the shouting over the rain.

Marcus walked toward the girl, grasping her face in his hands, “I love you, Y/n. I love you with every fiber in my being, I- I would do anything for you, trust me. You don’t know how much you mean to me. And I’m- I’m so sorry I never showed you how much you mean to me, how much I appreciate you. I- I depend on you maybe even more than you depend on me because you’re right. You’re always there for me, and I love you so much for that. You hear me Y/n, I love you, so fucking much, and I’d be lost without you. I’m sorry I didn’t notice how exhausted you’ve been. I’m sorry for being such a dick. I’m sorry for not showing you how much I appreciate you, love you, missed you. You’re the one who deserves so much more Y/n. Because you are more than enough for me, you could have had any guy you wanted, but you chose me. I’m so grateful for that, and I’ll start showing you more, I promise.” He said caressing her face in his hands, as she sniffled.

“I love you, Y/n, and I swear to god, if you give me another chance, I’ll do better, I promise. Please, please don’t give up on us.” His voice broke, “ I know we may not have the most healthy relationship, but I don’t care. I love you, you love me, that’s all that matters. We can fix this, and continue to grow together and separately and still be together, please bub. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that, I will never, never do that again. I’ll talk to you more about how I’m feeling, I’ll start seeing my therapist more often, I’ll do anything.” Marcus cried as the rain continued to pour down.

Y/n nodded, sniffles still coming from the girl.

Marcus pulled her into a tight hug, almost squeezing the life out of her, Y/n returning the tight embrace, clinging to him. Tears silently streamed down both their faces. The pair stood in silence under the rain which had slowed to a light drizzle. Marcus pulled away from the embrace after a few minutes. He gazed into Y/n’s eyes, which he loved so much and that returned the same fond gaze before pulling her into a kiss. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed, let alone a kiss like this one filled with love and fervor. As the couple pulled away from the kiss gently, eyes catching a rainbow in the distance.

“I love you, Marcus Baker.” Y/n sniffled.

“I love you more, Y/n Y/l/n.” He grinned at the girl in his arms.

。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

A/N- I don’t really know how to feel about this… but anyways I probably didn’t depict depression properly because I don’t know what it’s like. But I hope I did somewhat okay? Also that anxiety thing, I just know that wouldn’t do shit for me. When I have panic attacks they just gotta happen and somehow I just eventually calm down, idk 😂

I don’t know why the ending keeps getting like cut off by tumblr somehow 😭

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neverchecking · 11 months

Note

OOOOHHHH hear me out ok do with this what you will:

Warriors has to have like the BIGGEST praise kink yk? Reader tells him he looks pretty? He melts. Reader says he’s doing so good? He’ll do better. Just to hear any praise come from reader’s lips.

But when someone else compliments READER? It’s like a switch is flicked inside Warrior’s head. Someone at the bar a little to fond of reader’s smile? Reader’s laugh? Hoooo boy only hylia herself can save that person now. Warriors would have to drag reader somewhere and pound it into REMIND reader that compliments come from his lips only. If anyone says otherwise? Well, he’ll do what he must.

-🐞

🐞 anon. Your brain is so wrinkled. Every part of this is just *Chef's kiss* I'm hearing you out. He so unused to praise bc his higher ups just told him everything he did was wrong, so to hear he was doing something good from you?

He would take great care in absolutely destroying you for everyone else, the only name on your lips should be HIS and HIS alone Reminding you who you belong to :)

Smut so MDNI!

Smut CW: Possessive (Delusional) Wars. Praise kinks galore

・❥・Wars FOR SURE has the biggest fucking praise kink

・❥・Because let's face it, people tend to hate him. He practically brought upon the war of the Eras (Or that's what they tell him at least) and he's used to people just putting him down constantly.

・❥・And since Cia was attracted more to the power of his soul, she cared very little for who he was as a person. Just would he could provide her.

・❥・And the Captains before him treated him like shit, especially when he was a rookie.

・❥・But you? You had taken up role as a makeshift nurse when the chain had gotten hurt, the only one who braved treating him when he was angry and hurt. And when you did? You had nothing but gentle touches and kind words towards him.

・❥・It wasn't uncommon for you to look at him with starry eyes as you wrapped a gash, fawning over his dexterity on the field and how you had seen him with a sword.

・❥・You would distract him from his pain with honeyed words and praises.

・❥・It was no wonder he fell for you as fast as he did.

・❥・It was like you knew what he needed, exactly when he needed it.

・❥・And when you evolved past just praising his skills on the battlefield and into complimenting the way he had done his hair that day or the way his smile seemed to light up his features or the way you noticed how his eyes showed every one of his emotions?

・❥・He's down bad. Because he's the only one you do this with. So obviously he was the only one you wanted, right?

・❥・This was your way of telling him you like him, right? You were just too shy to come outright with it! That was obviously the case.

・❥・You ignite such a fire beneath him. He aches to impress you. You need someone who can protect you. Who can provide and give you the live you deserve to live.

・❥・He can do that. When he's fighting he's putting a million percent into it, ensuring not even a keese gets near you. When your in a market and he sees your eyes linger on something, he's handing over the rupees without so much as a second thought. He has the money and it's no issue. Not even when you bashfully attempt to wave off his act of affection.

・❥・Just let him take care of you. It would be easier for everyone.

・❥・He realizes, however, that as much as he would like it to be the case, you aren't in a bubble for his eyes only.

・❥・Other, unworthy pests can see you. And some have even dared to talk to you.

・❥・They sing their own compliments about your form or your jewelry, never the things he knows you really care about. They have no clue about your heart, that he fears is too big for this cruel world, or your brain, which works in such incredible ways.

・❥・Which cannot stand.

・❥・He's been dragged out of more than a few bars by Time or Twilight before he can launch himself at the disgraceful traitor that dares to impose on your sanctity.

・❥・That doesn't stop him from tracking this disgrace down and giving him a quick, and much too merciful, death. Anything longer would be delaying the time spent with you and he could already feel his skin itching without your presence.

・❥・ When he gets back, he's already formulating a plan to brand you as his. Because that's what you were.

・❥・You were his and his alone.

・❥・He had no issues dirtying his hands when it came to other parasites trying to impose on his territory, no, the problem came with you.

・❥・Not with anything you did, but you still needed to understand that the only praises you should listen to, come from his lips and his alone.

・❥・He would just have to remind you.

<><><><>

Your chest heaved as War's hands caged your own against the wall. The mirror in front of you fogged quickly as your hot breaths painted it with a misty sheen. You could barely see his blond hair as he gripped your hips, hips crashing with yours over and over again.

You couldn't exactly pinpoint what had gotten him so riled up, but he could.

He had taken you to a darling little bakery hidden away in some alleyway and the baker there seemed a little too friendly with you. He had kept offering you other goodies than what you had decided on, on the house he had declared, reaching for and catching your hand when you went to grab the paper bag full of treats. He was insistent on letting you know just how radiant your smile was and how he wouldn't mind seeing it more often.

Drove him absolutely fucking mad.

Wars knew he was...possessive. It was both maddening because he knew what it was like to be chained and locked down by someone too obsessive to be healthy and liberating because you were his. You had chosen to give yourself to him. You had chosen him.

And he would make sure everyone knew it.

The knights that would eye you every time you came to visit, the council members that would gawk at you every time he brought you with him to visit Artemis, the servants that would hesitate when it came to leaving your bathroom, and that fucking baker who didn't understand you were taken. That you were his.

But he'd make sure they knew. He would make sure they all knew that he had sunk his talons deep into your psyche. You were his. There was no changing this.

Maybe you could use a nice, big, shiny rock to show everyone you were his.

#linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #yandere legend of zelda #linked universe #legend of zelda #link x reader #loz #cindersins #Lu Warriors #Lu warriors x reader #Yandere Lu Warriors #Yandere lu warriors x reader #warriors x reader #yandere link x reader #yandere link #🐞 anon

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chaotic-kitty · 2 years

Text

The Arcana: Muriel NSFW Alphabet

Warnings: Explicit content. Minors DNI

Hey hey. Ummm…..I uploaded this a while ago but the post was glitching and so I took it down. I forgot to put it back up, so here we are. Gonna try this again. Enjoy! 😭💖

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Muriel can be relatively quiet afterwards. He makes sure you’re both cleaned up and taken care of. Also checks in on you to see how you’re feeling. Will happily just lay there cuddling with you, either in silence or talking quietly with you. There are times when he is more talkative and playful afterwards.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Muriel doesn’t like his body. Doesn’t like his hands, his arms, legs, anything. All he can see is the bloodshed his body caused in the past. He sees a body that he thought his parents couldn’t feed. He doesn’t like the scars that cover his body, as they are a recollection of stories he’d rather forget. He doesn’t see how one could necessarily like their body, or a specific part of it. But once you come into his life, he gains an appreciation for different parts of his body that he never had before. He appreciates his hands for being able to hold your hand or stroke your hair. He appreciates his arms for being able to hold you. He appreciates his chest and abdomen because of all the times you’ve snuggled up there. He appreciates other parts for being able to bring you pleasure. He just appreciates himself after you.

As for his favourite body part on you, how could he ever pick just one thing? He loves and adores everything, every part of you. From your eyes to your lips, to your chest and your legs. He loves everything.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

When Muriel cums, boy does cum! No matter how long between sessions, he still has a lot of it. Doesn’t mind the taste of it, in fact, he likes the taste. Cum in general also doesn’t bother him.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Muriel doesn’t really have dirty secrets. Perhaps the dirtiest secret he has is, he actually feels sexual urges and desires much more than he would like to admit or more than anyone would guess. He tries to suppress it or ignore it, but every so often he’ll give in. Once he ends up in a relationship, he’s able to feel and experience those feeling on a much deeper level.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Muriel doesn’t have any experience with sex or relationships in general. Muriel has never had the desire to be intimate or with anyone because of how he views himself and his relationships. It’s not because he didn’t feel attraction or desire, he just didn’t let himself feel those things. And he viewed himself as not worthy of love in any of its forms, and also couldn’t comprehend how anyone would ever want him. So, you are the only experience he has.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Muriel’s favourite position in the beginning is Cowgirl, and other positions where his partner can be on top. This makes him feel better, knowing that you are, for the most part, in control. And he’s less worried about crushing you or hurting you.

Once he’s gotten more confident, he likes wall sex and fucking you on countertops, etc.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Muriel will likely be more serious and focused on the task at hand, but, he will also have times when he is goofy, humorous, and smug! The latter becoming more frequent as he becomes comfortable with sex and learns more about his partner and what they’re like in bed.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The carpets match the drapes. Muriel doesn’t groom himself down there, at all. He washes himself (obviously) but keeps everything untouched or untamed.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can be tentative at first, but, he’s always gentle and caring. Often checks in with you. Besides being hesitant at first, he can get very into it. Not so great with the romance, but does try to be romantic! Especially on special occasions.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Has tried it on multiple occasions. But he very very very rarely does it. He can give into the urge when he has it but resists as much as possible. He views it as another kind of pleasure he’s not worthy of.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink?

Size kink

Praise Kink

L = Location (Favourite places to do the deed)

His favourite location is anywhere as long as it’s with you.😏 Though, he prefers in the comfort of home…..and a bed. It makes him feel safe and less anxious.

He likes to know that you’re not being heard or people aren’t going to walk in.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You.

Muriel gets turned on by you, mainly. It can be quite easy to turn him on. Anything from teasing him, to him just watching you do some you love. Anytime he sees you gushing over something, or being confident doing something, he just thinks about how he loves you and just spirals from there until he’s needy for you.

He also just gets spontaneous bursts of horniness.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Chocking, slapping, spanking, etc. Any form of physical “harm” is off the table, even if it’s for pleasure. He doesn’t like hurting you or thinking he’s hurting you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Loves oral. Like, LOVES IT. Well, giving it at least. He relishes in being able to bring his lover that kind of pleasure. And adores your reactions. As for skill, he’s surprisingly mind-blowing at it.

Ever heard of the expression, “[eating] like a man starved”? That’s Muriel when it comes to giving oral.

As for receiving it, once he’s experienced it, he enjoys it! More than he would care to admit. It is something that he doesn’t ask for, though, and is shy about it when he’s offered.

P = Pace (Are they fasts and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Muriel’s pace is usually slowish as he’s scared of accidentally hurting you. But, his pace depends on what kind of mood it is and what you’re enjoying. If you’re making love~ or heavy in a romantic moment, he’s likely to be all round more sensual, pace included. If you’ve both reached a point where you’re absolutely desperate for one another, his pace is likely to be hard and rough as he chases his own high as well as bringing you to your high. Whatever the mood, his pace will match.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t like the idea of them that much, especially in public. Anytime that you do it, which is rarely, it almost always leads to you two fully going at it.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

In the first year or so, he’s not up for taking too many risks or trying too many things. He’s willing to experiment with different positions or techniques in that time, but not up for anything more than that. Eventually, though, he’ll try expanding his horizons, so-to-speak. But, he will still have things that fall outside his boundaries that he will not likely try.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

It really depends. On average, he can last a round or two back-to-back. If he has enough alcohol in his system, he may be able to go for more. Sessions can last up to an hour or more, especially as he spends a lot of time with foreplay and making sure you’re satisfied.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Muriel doesn’t own toys. He would also be very hesitant to have them used on him, and even more hesitant using them on you. Might warm up to the idea once you’ve both become more experienced and comfortable with one another.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s comfortable enough? A whole damn lot. Everything from teasing you and getting you riled up even before anything happens, all the while acting nonchalant about it. He’ll tease you by kissing you everywhere but where you want him, and will keep this up until you’re begging him to please you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He grunts. It can be pretty loud, but he tries to not make any noise. Once he gets more comfortable, he won’t hold back as much. He sometimes moans if you get him really riled up, and you’re teasing his most sensitive areas. When he does moan, it is a beautiful and unrestrained sound. Will probably blush very hard if he hears himself moan.😂

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

While there is no place like home, as long as you’re away from people, Muriel will happily engage in sexual activities with you in the woods (forest areas).

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s big. Like BIG. In length, but more so in girth. His size doesn’t change that much when he’s erect. Because of his size~ it is not very likely that you’ll be able to take all of him, even if you try different positions.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not that high, not that low. Pretty average. Unless, you’re deliberately trying to turn him on using the methods that get him going. If that’s the case, his sex drive can be high.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep only after you do. This can be a matter of seconds if he’s fought through his tiredness. He just likes to know that you’re definitely safe and okay. And he’s usually the first one up.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana muriel #the arcana hc #the arcana headcanons #the arcana Muriel Headcanons #the arcana fic #the arcana smut #the arcana scenarios #the arcana apprentice #the arcana Muriel smut #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fanart #the arcana fandom #the arcana mc #the arcana asra

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shinsouscatpisssmell · 1 year

Text

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓮

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ

"Y/N L/N, never have I met such a vile woman in my life. You are accused of murder, fraudulence, and treason of the Thysin kingdom." a stack of papers anf photos get thrown before your person.

The ballroom surrounded by citizens erupt with gossip and gasp full of shocked. In the center on their hands and kness with gaurds pointing sharp spears at them was you ,(Y/N).

Once a powerful and beautiful woman who stood to be feared by man and envied by woman. Now she was nothing left but a broken shell of her former self.

Hair once kept neat and primed was the equivalence of a rat nest. Clothes that were the best of the best now reduced to a burlap sack with holes that was dark with dirt and blood from the beatings that was bestowed upon her when arrested. The smooth skin that was the talk of the kingdom and compared to a goddess was now scabbed over with scars of switch marks and cuffs and chains cutting into her wrist and ankles.

"Zuku,my love I-I didn't do this. She framed me." becoming a weeping mess infront of thousands can only be described as pathetic.

"How dare you accuse my wife to be and princess of the all for one kingdom of such... such disgusting acts. How could you explain the evidence before you." He pulls the woman ,Ochako, closer making you even more defeated as the only man you loved is stolen away from you.

"See izuku? I told you, she can't even defend herself." Playing the damsel in distress act was right for her as she gets hugged and her crocodile tears get wiped away.

"By the power of king all might and my authority and my duty as the prince. I hereby sentence (y/n) (l/n) to beheading which will take place within 4 days time."

Trembling in frustration ,sadness, and exhaustion of knowing your innocence was nothing but a unleft whisper on your lips.

"oh midoriya! Can i have a few last words? Just to give her my forgivness." her brown eyes that were sparkled with innocence looked at your broken person as if a bright spotlight was shining on you.

"Princess Uraraka you are to good for this world." Deku caresses her round pink cheeks with such tender love and care as

she made her way from the throne to the center of the marble floor facing you.

Her pink dress rustles and folds under itself as she kneels down. Those big ole innocent brown eyes turn stone cold devoided of that little sparkle you saw up there next to the prince.

From her tiny plump lips leave a low icy chuckle only meant for your ears, " you were once an angel. Now nothing but lowly filth i wipe away from underneath my shoe," placing her warm milky hands on your cheek to stop your trembling form, " I saw you looking happy as you could be. I wanted it. I was so jealous. And now— and now I have it all. You dirty b-i-t-c-h."

Each syllable leaves her mouth as if it was air she took in. With some power that you had left you graves a hold of the chain that bonded your wrist and a war cry piercing the air as the metal wrapped around her throat.

The knights circle you and your captive as deku begs for you to let her go.

"Heed my warning prince izuku. For I say this once. Beg every god and goddess in the universe I do not return for when I do," you pull harder making it suffocate Ochako more, " i will extract my revenge on those who wronged me. And you who i chose to love and live for." you let her go and she falls gasping for air.

Deku runs to her side as you get tackled by the gaurds no sound of pain leaving your lips only meanacing laughter that shook the ballroom to the core as you're dragged away back to the cold rat filled dungeon that smells of bloody metallic, decaying corpses, defecation ,and piss.

The execution got pushed to the next day. People young and old gather and cast stones as you get brought to tbe guillotine.

As the sharp metal blade that has dried blood from his past victims get brought down, deku pulls ochako close blocking her way only making out her mouth down. She opens her mouth to give you the sly fox smile ' b-I-t-ch' wss the last you witness as the huge razor severed your head from your body. Fresh blood marks it's new victim.

The few seconds you're brain could register before becoming dead; was blocked by a blinding white light.

"ŋơῳ ɬɧąɬ ıʂ ą ųŋʄąır Ɩıʄɛ , ɱყ ƖıɬɬƖɛ ơŋɛ"

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beeandheroddobsessions · 1 year

Text

Inappropriate

Pairing: Elvis x f!reader

Summary: Elvis teaches you a thing or two

Warings: MDNI!! SMUT!! Not a plot in sight fr. Oral (m.recieving). Spanking. Mean!Elvis. Manipulation. Coercion(?) Iressponsible parents fr Elvis is kind of a creep. Innocence kink?

A/N: The shit, in-fact, did not fit. I’m not as upset because i had a good stopping point. Anywho, I’m testing the waters with my smut writings but real talk, i kinda like this one. Let me hush though, Happy reading! - Bee 💕

Trembling. You were trembling.

Sex was a taboo in your world, even at eighteen. Asking about such “an egregious thing for a young lady” would garner harsh looks and curt responses. But you're a growing girl; curiosity couldn’t stay at bay forever. You’d pester about the things you’d hear around the schoolyard in an attempt to ‘keep up’ with your peers, yet those burning questions would garner the same response, “That’s not an appropriate question for you to be askin’.”

After no luck at home and barley any innvitation into a conversation at school, you let the question die off in the cold. Being left in the dark about the act led to you forgetting about it all together.

So how you ended up underneath this handsome devil is a mystery. Well, not entirely; He found you in a tailor shop, picking up a dress that needed hemming. His eyes raked over your form, deciding he’d have you before even knowing your name. You kept your head down while walking, meek and quiet. He liked how you stumbled over your words and apologized for every move you made. He liked that you were timid.

What he really liked was the way your face flustered when the clerk threw a less than tasteful remark your way. Innocence was practically oozing out of the pores on your pretty face, and he intended to drain it dry. The man couldn’t help himself, his conviction didn’t concern him. Shamelessly, he stepped in line with the door as you made your way to the exit. The thud of your body into his made him shiver.

The profuse apologies escaping those soft lips of yours made his pants tighten. He thought of how you’d sound in his bed, wondering if you’d whimper and plead with him. Elvis let you rattle on for a bit, busy studying, looking for something to draw you in. Your hair, or rather the tiny pin holding the style together gave it away.

A music note? Oh, he had it in the bag for sure. The brunett stopped you and introduced himself As if he hadn’t had eyes on you from the start. When you spoke your name, fate was sealed. He gave you a smirk, asking what type of music you liked. Blues was your answer. Hearing this had Elvis wondering what he did to get so lucky. He could work with the blues. An invite for a private performance was all it took.

One thing led to another, and you find yourself wedged between the soft bed and a charming adonis. Though his body hovers over yours, clothes have yet to be shared, a kiss yet to be shed. The intimacy of this scenario would be awkward had it been with anyone else. You’re nervous, and he knows it. How his eyes wander over your features with a knowing look makes you hot—burning with desire. Elvis hasn’t made a move past this; even so, you feel a warmth pool in your belly.

Is this normal? Is this a good thing? Why can’t you look away? The questions you have, accompanied by the position, are overwhelming.

Elvis can see the panic in those big doe eyes and decides to have a little fun.“what’s the matter, honey? Never been up close n’ personal with a man before?”

You can’t lie to save your life, so the shame of inexperience looms over your head. Retreating into yourself and avoiding the inquiry all together seems like the saftest option. Brining your hands to your face as if they’d save you makes Elvis chuckle.

“Oh now, none of that. I asked you a question, little one. I expect an answer.” He says, while removing the makeshift barrier. You open your mouth to speak, hoping that if you oblige, he’ll let up. Before a sound is made, Elvis lowers his head to the crook of your neck. Breath fanning against your skin, raising goosebumps over your body. A small gasp is all you can manage.

The handsome devil squeezes your waist, grip firm as he peppers kisses down your neck and chest, lanidng just above your clevage.

“What’d I say? Hm, sweet baby? Give me an answer.” He demands, peering up to find your gaze.

Ohh this…this was intense. Should there be a pulse down there? You have no clue. What you do know is that you aren’t about to look this man in the eye if you don't have to. His effect on your body is something you can’t explain, even if you wanted to. The hand on your waist travels to your thigh. Dangerously close to the hem of your dangerously short dress. His expression is calm, but the words that leave his mouth are serious.

“Honeybee, m’not gon ask ya again. Ya ignore me one more time, m’gon bend you over my knee.”

Though curious to discover what he means, the fear of being unprepared for something like that has you scrambling for an answer. You don’t even remember the question? ‘Have you ever’…what the hell was it? Panic sets in as you realize he’d distracted you on purpose.

The silence is enough for Elvis to start moving. You blink and are suddenly hoisted off of the bed that offered you some sense of security. Elvis is amused, eager to see how you’d handle this. He slides to the edge of the bed, planting his feet and, just as promised, bends you over his knee. He feels your breasts flush against his lap and shudders. This was going to be fun.

“you can count can’t ya?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

You can’t do much but nod, hoping he isn’t serious about this. The sting against your ass proves you wrong; a yelp escapes your throat. Remembering his initial demand, you sputter out the number as best you can.

“O-one”

Elvis tsks at you, taunting further. His hand soothes the burn as he shakes his head. “No, no, baby. That one don’t count. I told ya when I ask a question, ya answer it. Startin to think there ain’t much up in that pretty little head of yours.”

You can practically feel the smug look on his face. “M’sorry Elvis-” THWACK.

That one hurt worse than the first. He’s got you right where he wants you. Unsure of what to do, looking to him for guidence. It shakes him up real good, seeing you plead for help with your eyes; truly a thrilling experience for him. he likes playing with your psyche. Should you count to two? Or was that the new number oned? You were helpless.

His cool rings matched with the breeze rolling over your now warm backside leaves you in a spiral, adding to the already intese wave of desire. He is the escense of perfection right now. Something primal has you dripping, wanting more.

Much like any other time you feel this way, mother’s words float through your head. Inappropriate. To crave more of whatever this was, to feel this way. It was a sin. Urges were a temtation, same as the man who has you hunched over.

If your mother could see you now, “Unladylike,” she’d say. “Whorish,” your father would sneer. the guilt was beginning set in. You couldn’t do this. what would everyone think? If she found out, mama wuld surley tell the entire congregation of your sin. Daddy would surley disown you for even looking at a man like this. little by little, the lust you’re feeling starts to disapate.

Another delicious sting pulls you from the confines of your mind. Slick begins to leak through the white lace adorning your lower half. “Ya like this. Dontcha, baby? Like havin’ me discipline ya? Teachin’ ya some manners?”

You try to resist his accusation, shaking your head as if you hadn’t already been caught.

“No? Ya don’t like it?” He presses further, smirk everlasting as he continues to caress your ass. “No, I—um, I d-dont.” You sputter, attempting to sound as convincing as possible. Elvis nods but doesn’t say much “Mm, mhm.”

Without warning, he runs two fingers over your panties, stopping right above that little bundle of nerves, doing nothing more than adding a little pressure.

The moan that escapes you teeters on pornographic. Never in your eighteen years on this earth have you made a sound like that. You have one thought bouncing around. Inappropriate, my ass; this is magic.

Just as quickly as he gave you a taste of bliss, he rips it away. You keen and wiggle your hips, needing a sliver of friction. Elvis is tickled pink; his laughs do nothing to quell the fire he’s lit.

“See honey, ya do like it. S’okay, mama, I’ll break ya in real nice.” With that, he sits you up and admires his work. Pride swells in his chest as he takes it all in. Your begging eyes, reddened face, slick thighs, twiddling thumbs, it’s got him hot, real hot. you feel small under his stare. He flashes a crooked smile and spreads his legs a bit. “Ya wanna meet little Elvis, honey? Ya might wanna get to know him before we start havin’ fun.”

Your response flies out of your mouth before you can even think “Like…Like sex?”

Elvis nods his head, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And it might’ve been, for any other soul, but not for y/n.

Still, you take this as an opportunity to find out what you’re working with; your eyes shift to his pants. Again, fear washes over your body, ‘little,’ he says.

“Elvis, I don’t think-” you choke on your words, feeling like the room is spinning. Guilt nips at you again, but you're a big girl now. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for the second half of that sentence.

“i—yes, I do. I’m—M’jus scared. Ain’t never seen a man before.”

When he hears ‘scared,’ Elvis’s features soften, and he sits up, fumbling over his words, same as you, “Honey, I ain’t gon hurt ya if that’s what your thinkin’, I know—I k-know I jus’ t-tanned ya up bu-but I wasn’t a-actually hurtin’ ya was I? If I d-did m’sor-”

You giggle at his change in demeanour and shake your head. “No, Elvis it ain’t that. Jus.. well my mama says that what we’re fixin’ to do ain’t appropriate. says it ain’t ladylike. This is what whores-”

Elvis is quick to shut you up with a hungry kiss. It’s far from graceful, teeth clashing, tounges fumbling, but it’s enough to shoo away the last bit of doubt. When you pull back for air, he begins to reassure you.

“You ain’t gon be a whore for nobody but me. Alright? Put that pile of horseshit outta your mind.” You nod your head, and he mimics you.

With that out of the way, Elvis starts to undo his belt. You’re on the edge of your seat; this would be the first time you’d ever seen a man in his most natural state. It’s riveting. He shimmies out of his trousers, letting them pool around his ankles before kicking them off completely. You’re shocked to find he isn’t wearing underwear.

His cock slaps against his stomach, earning a mewl from you. There was no doubt that Elvis was blessed; the print in those pants left little to the imaginatiou, but the display before you is mouthwatering. He’s Uncut, thick, veins that run along the lenght, an angry red tip, with balls heavy, and ready to spill. There’s hair, but it’s neatly kept.

Elvis lazily strokes himself, watching you burn the image into your memory. You didn’t think this is what it would be like. Schoolyard talk had you stuck with the image of a worm between every mans legs.

“Can…can I touch it?” you ask, wanting to explore this new territory. Elvis gives you a cheeky grin and nods, taking your hand in his, replacing it with his own. He lets out a groan when your fingers wrap around him. He’s heavy in your hands, never mind how he’d feel inside you. Elvis begins to guide you, growing more impatient by the second. “Move your hand jus like that, baby.”

You do as told, afraid of making any moves without help. Elvis’s hands glide down your spine as he watches you, concentration never breaking. “Go on and wrap your pretty lips round the tip, like ya would a sucker. No teeth though, darlin’.”

Hesitantly, you lean down. Uncertain of what to expect, your tongue swipes over the small hole, testing the waters. Elvis takes a sharp breath; scared to have done something wrong, you quickly pull away.

“I—m’sorry, I jus-”

Elvis pulls you into him, giving you a gentle kiss. “Felt good, mama. Real good. Keep goin’,” he reassures, wanting nothing more than your mouth on his aching cock. With a nod, you resume your ministrations. You swirl your tongue around his tip before wrapping around him entirely. The taste of pre-cum sends your eyes to the back of your head.

“That’s a good girl, I knew ya knew how to listen.”

Too focused on the task at hand, the teasing goes unnoticed. How much of him could you take? Elvis is taken by surprise when you attempt to find out. His head lulls back. Hands tangle in your tresses as you gag around him. “Fuck, honey. Ya learn quick.”

On your way back up, Elvis tightens his grip on your hair, sending you back down. “Stay right there, babydoll. G-Goddamnit, that’s a good girl!”

Looking up through your lashes, you find him with lips parted, eyes closed, and chest beginning to rise and fall a little faster. The sight makes you shift to create a bit of friction. As he holds you in that same spot, air becomes scarce. Tears well in your eyes; you tap his thigh, hoping he’ll give you a breather. Elvis’s eyes open, and his features set in a pout.

“Ya need air, baby?” He asks, seeming genuine.

Nodding frantically, you move to pull off, but he keeps you locked in place. “Then breath through your nose. Gotta be able to suck me good n’ proper. Can’t do that if youre runnin’ for air all the time.”

Realizing he’s serious, you have no choice but to redirect your breathing. When you finally get the hang of it, Elvis wastes no time moving. Your head bobbing just wasn’t enough, his hips buck up, speed increasing as he focuses on his release. The sound of you choking only spurs the musician on further. Obsceneites leave his mouth with little shame.

“Come on honey, shit, I know ya got it in ya.”

“Feels so damn good, princess.”

“Gonna taste me for days, sweetheart.”

You whine around his cock, sending a pleasant shock through his body. Pants and grunts escape the star above you, leaving your underwear far past the point of no return. Elvis can’t help but use you to chase his high. Having someone so innocent, so malleable, so willing, sends him careening toward that ledge much quicker than he had intended.

His core tightens, and his thrusts lose their rhythmic pace. Elvis is more than vocal as he abuses your poor throat. His thighs clench, and his toes curl; he’s so close. Bliss brings him to the moon, the only word leaving his mouth is your name. Wondering what the effect would be, you graze your fingertips over his balls. That does it. With a yelp, Elvis stills and spills down your throat, the option to spit taken away.

He pulls you off with a ‘pop.’ He sees a fucking mess. Your hair’s disheveled, drool is everywhere, mascara cascading down your cheeks. You do indeed look like a whore, and Elvis loves every second of it. He pulls you onto his lap, arms snaking around your waist.

“Your mama’s a goddamn liar. That was the most ladylike thing I’ve ever seen. Now, s’time for me to show ya how a man takes care of his lady.”

Taglist: @powerofelvis @prayerstopresley

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