#(going to let this run for a week to try and gather as much feedback as i can!)

[delta-bw]

Hi all! Wanted to survey y'all about the idea of potentially creating a nice little social Discord server. It would foster discussions of Delta BW, of course, but also general Pokemon discussion :-) Would also be a space for me to provide smaller updates that I might not post on the blog, post art, as well as field questions. This server would be firmly SFW, and would be open to people of all ages. Any major updates would still be posted to the blog, to be clear, so joining the Discord would not be necessary to stay up to date. It would just be a fun little thing for anybody wanting another little Pokemon community!

If you have any additional comments, questions, or suggestions, feel free to leave them in the replies! I'd be happy to hear your feedback ^^ Thanks!

[adnauseum11]

Listening Post (John Price x Reader)

John goes M.I.A, and all is not as it seems at first.

900 words

CW: swearing

feedback welcome!

You’re starting to get worried. It’s out of character for John to ignore you. Even when he was still on active duty, he would tell you if he was going to be in the field. He’d never compromise himself with any details but he’d at least let you know he was away. And he always let you know when he was back on grid, his simple ‘back here’ text enough to reassure you that he had made it home once again. You stand in your kitchen, gnawing a thumbnail and obsessively looking at your phone. 

He wasn’t in the field any more, and he shouldn't be away, you had plans to do Trivia Thursday night this week at the pub. He would have told you if he had left town. If you weren’t dating the wretched man, you would send him a text about being a miserable bastard and try him again the next day to see if his mood had improved. 

You scroll back in your texts, checking the timestamps. He’s never let a text go unanswered all day before. What kind of trouble could an ex-SAS Captain possibly get in to? He can take care of himself. Surely, he’s fine. He’s been in his share of fights. If the cops had picked him up for something, you would have got wind of it, you’re certain. You’re trying to convince yourself to remain calm, annoyingly something that’s normally John’s job between the two of you. 

You realize you’re going to spend the evening standing in the kitchen, agonizing in silence, so you resolve to sort the situation out one way or another. You pull on your jacket, thumbing through your phone to a ride share app. You find yourself in front of John’s flat less than 20 minutes later. His car is there, and instead of making you feel better you get a sinking sensation in your stomach. At least if he was away, you could tell yourself he was busy. Now it looks like he’s just dodging you. 

You let yourself in using the key he gave you years ago, knocking gently and calling for him. Nothing. No signs of life in the kitchen or living room. His neat flat looks immaculate. You’re heading down the hall when you hear low groaning. A flame of anger licks at your belly and you have to keep yourself from stomping the rest of the way down the hall. 

If he’s cheating on you before you’ve even had sex, you’re going to string him up by his balls. If you have to pay to find someone who knows how to do that, you will. It will be worth it – 

By the time you clear the doorway, you’ve convinced yourself of what you’re going to find. Even brace for it, your face screwed up into a wince. So, when it’s just John, sweating buckets and groaning in pain in the middle of his bed it takes you a full ten seconds to reboot your brain.

“What’s wrong?” You’re leaning over him, not bothering with pleasantries or admonishments now, running your hands over his face and chest with anxious movements. You’re instinctively looking for a wound of some sort before you can process your own actions. He squints at you, grabbing your hands and covering his eyes with your palms, curling towards you.

“My fucking head. Holy shit.” His voice is like gravel, and you wonder how long he’s been like this if he’s openly admitting to what ails him. You’re crawling into the bed, moving on autopilot despite never having seen him like this. John’s misery does not like company, thanks very much. But it seems those old rules of engagement for you both are shifting. You’re pillowing his head on your thighs, curling over him protectively and making sympathetic noises softly. As relieved as you are he’s not up to anything nefarious, guilt at it being a thought at all is hot on its heels.  

“A migraine?” 

He confirms with the tiniest tilt of his head, pressing his cheek into your thigh while you gently cup his forehead. He’s burning hot, sweaty to the touch. You’re stroking a palm over his hair slowly, easing him off your lap so you can run around his flat, gathering anything you can think of that might help - ice water in a bowl with a facecloth, a bottle of water, fruit from the bowl in his kitchen. He’s groaning again by the time you get back and arrange everything on his bedside table. 

You spend the rest of the night playing nurse, finally able to get more information out of the miserable man on what might make him feel better. The cool cloth helps, as does the darkness and gently stroking his scalp. You’re able to get him to lightly doze after a few hours of concentrated efforts. Grateful for the small stash of clothes and essentials John insisted you bring over a few days prior, you keep one eye on your sleeping patient while you change into pajamas. The thought of leaving him alone like this makes your stomach drop and your skin crawl, as does the slow realization he’s likely been dealing with these episodes alone for some time. 

You manage to crawl back into bed without disturbing him, resuming your slow stroking passes over his scalp. Your insides are wobbling dangerously, like you might fall into a heaving cry at any moment. You’re supremely grateful when exhaustion takes over, silencing any and all thoughts. 

Next Chapter

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I'm ahead on studying so figured I'd get this going.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The television blares as you come downstairs. The hues flicker through the archway as you peek inside. Your father must’ve left it on. You’re used to finding him passed out on the couch but he’s nowhere to be seen.

You yawn into your hand, another week ahead of you. You near the couch as the volume makes your ear drums buzz. Why does he always have it so loud?

Your morning tea hazes your vision. You have those few moments of peace before you have to start the day. The warmth flowing into you, nestling in your stomach, comforting you. As you come around in search of the remote, you stumble to a stop.

Your father didn’t make it that far. He’s slumped over on the edge of the couch. Your heart leaps into your throat as you see the remote on the floor. He must have dropped it. You snatch it up and mute the television, leaving its glow to light the room.

“Dad,” you touch his shoulder, but you already know. He’s not rasping or coughing or choking. Oh no. Oh no no no.

You try to roll him onto his back, then to sit him up. You can’t move him. He’s limp and heavy and…

You run away, racing upstairs to grab your phone from your night table. The charging cord snaps out of the port as you flip it open and rush back to the first floor. You’re panting as you key in the emergency number and put the phone to your cheek.

“Hello!” You nearly shriek at the operator as they answer, “my dad! My dad!” You shake your head as you try to gather yourself, “my dad’s not moving. He’s not breathing.”

“Alright, ma’am, I need you to calm down, can you do that for me?” The man coaxes.

“I don’t know,” you whine.

“Ma’am, you gotta calm down. You wanna help him, don’t you? So take a breath, alright?”

You inhale and let it out, “he’s not breathing,” you babble again.

“Okay, ma’am, you gotta get him on his back for me, can you do that?”

“Y-yes,” you chuff out and go back to the couch. You push on your dad, lifting his arm until he flops onto his back, “he’s on his back.”

“Alright, do you know CPR?” The operator asks.

“I… yes,” you gulp. The doctor sent you to lessons after your dad got the tank. He said it was standard for family members. Your dad told you it was garbage. “Yes, I know how.”

“Good, I need you to breathe for him. You remember the steps, right?”

“I– I can do it,” you say convincing yourself as much as him.

“Do it now, alright? I want you to keep on until the ambulance gets there. You don’t stop,” he says calmly, “I’m tracing your location and I have people on the way.”

“I’m… I’m gonna do it. Now.”

You place the phone down and hit the button for the speaker. You stand over your father’s limp body as your eyes gloss with tears. He can’t be dead. You won’t let him do that. He never listens to you but you’re not going to let him die.

You tilt his head up and move the oxygen tube out of the way. You put your hands on his chest and pump, keeping count as you do. Then you pinch his nose and bend over him, blowing into his mouth, just how they showed you.

You don’t stop. You won’t. You can’t believe this is happening. It’s not going to happen. You can’t lose your dad. He’s all you have. He’s all you’ve ever had.

You hear sirens and the operator speaking to you. You tune it all out as you focus on your dad. You’re crying as you pump again. One, two, three…

The world is foggy around you as you count, over and over. You feel someone touching you, pulling you away. There’s noise all around as the colours turn to blurry orbs all around you. You fight to get free until you realise it’s okay. They’ve come to help.

You watch the paramedics in their white shirts work on your father as another stands beside you. She hands you your phone as the operator talks to you. 

“It’s okay, ma’am, they’re going to get him to the hospital,” he assures. “And take care of you.”

You thank him in a wobbly voice and shut the phone. The woman beside you gives a sympathetic look. The men by your father mutter.

“He’s breathing,” one declares, “get the stretcher.”

“He’s… he’s alive?” You squeak.

“Stand back,” the paramedic beside you stops you from going forward, “gotta let them get him loaded up.”

“Is he going to be okay?” You murmur.

“We can evaluate him at the hospital,” she insists, “you can ride with him but first, they need to get him there.”

You nod and wipe your wet cheeks. He’s alive. Barely. You think you might have saved him. For once, you think you did something right.

🧹

You call into work as you sit out in the waiting room. You hope missing your shift doesn’t affect your probation. Clara thanks you for letting her know but you expect it’s a hassle she doesn't want.

You have your spring jacket pulled over your pajamas and a pair of slip-on sneakers. You wring your hands almost raw as you wait and watch the clock. You are overflowing with anxiety. 

You rock in your chair as the minutes stretch to hours. You see others come and go. Some in rough shape, others on their own strength. Stretchers roll in and out, occupied or otherwise. The sterile scent dries your nostrils and stains your tongue.

As noon rolls around, you get up and find the vending machines just inside the entrance. You drop coins in the slot and push the button for an English tea. The cup drops down into place and the nozzle churns loudly, spitting out thinly steeped tea. It’s better than nothing.

You return to your seat and blow over the top of the cup. Your mind pendulums between the room down your hall and the beeping machines, and the empty house with its fantastical gardens. You should’ve been mopping Mr. Laufeyson’s floors that day.

You finish half the tea before you give up on it. It’s lukewarm and bland. You slouch down and cross your arms. Your eyelids droop but you won’t let them close. You yawn and watch a woman comfort her sniffling child as he sneezes into her shirt.

It’s all so surreal. It feels like a dream. It is your worst nightmare. The doctor warned you but you hoped… you hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

Your name is called and you sit up, nearly jumping out of the seat. You wave your hand and approach the woman in blue scrubs.

“That’s me,” you gulp.

“You can come see him now,” she says.

You blink, “he’s okay?”

She gives you a look, “he’s stable. Come this way.”

She turns back as the large double doors open inward and strides forward. You follow her and she leads you to a room. She points you inside. “He’s on the other side of the curtain.”

“Thank you,” you utter before she’s off. Everyone is in a hurry there. You suppose they have to be.

You turn and look at the closed curtain around the first bed. You pass it and peek around the next. You find your dad, eyes shut, tubes crisscrossed all around him as a machine echoes his heartbeat. You pull the curtain shut and sit in the stiff plastic chair just near the end of his bed. You stare at him, eyes welling hotly.

“I tried,” you croak, “I really tried, dad.”

You drop your face into your hands and let yourself fall apart. You bawl, swallowing down your sobs as you choke. You try not to make too much noise in your grief. You wouldn’t want to disturb your neighbour. But you can’t stop yourself. You’re sorry. You’re so sorry.

You let him down again.

🧹

Your father wakes up the next day. He isn’t cognizant as he thrashes and chokes on the tube down his throat. You hit the bell and stand back to watch in shock. The nurses rush in and shoo you out.

It’s hours before you see him again. The new nurse says he’s sedated and will need to be for a while. You ask if he’s okay. Again. Her answer isn’t much of one.

You spend the first two nights sleeping in the plastic chair. You can’t bring yourself to sleep in the house alone, but you have to leave him. You have a job that day and you need the money. Especially after seeing the invoice for the ambulance.

You go home and change on the third morning and go down to the east side for your assignment. You get through it without thinking. You just do. The familiarity of scrubbing, sweeping, and mopping mutes your emotion. Outside the hospital, you can almost pretend it’s not real.

When you finish, you go back to the hospital. You eat in the cafeteria before you go to your father’s room. Your stomach mulches painfully as your body greedily digests the processed chicken noodle soup. It’s your first meal since the day you got there.

Those yellow walls become your new home. You only leave to go to your third shift that week and otherwise linger. When the nurses send you out, you have tea in the cafeteria or choke down another unappetizing meal from a plastic tray.

Your father’s awake on Sunday night. They tell you they’re weaning him off the sedation. His eyes are glassy and confused. He doesn’t look like himself and for more than the tubes that keep him alive.

Monday morning you say goodbye and promise to be back after work. He grumbles and coughs. He doesn’t have a feeding tube anymore but hasn’t said a word. You don’t know if he can or if he just has nothing to say.

You set off to Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Another week. You’re halfway through probation but you won’t celebrate. You only want to panic. You need money. You need more shifts. Three houses a week for another month and a half won’t do.

As always, you just have to take what you can get.

You shake off the last week before you cross the threshold. Hopefully your eyes aren’t too swollen. Between the lack of sleep and crying, they’re raw and itchy.

You open your phone and click the stubborn button on the keypad to scroll. You put in the code and push through the gate. The garden is a blur of green as you ignore it. You’re not there to watch the leaves dance or breathe in the beauty. This place is just as gray as the rest of the world.

You go inside and begin. Shoe covers, gloves, and… you don’t have your water bottle. Oh well. You proceed down the list. Room by room, item by item. You don’t see him. You don’t hear him. You hope he’s not there.

You get to the second floor. There’s a new bullet point. ‘Study: grease the office chair.’ Huh?

You recall on your last visit how the chair squeaked with his every move. You huff and return downstairs. You go to the closet where the rest of the supplies are and find a new bottle. Small with a narrow nozzle. You read the instructions as you ascend back to the upper level.

You open the study door and stop short. You didn’t think too knock. You sputter but keep any words from spilling out. You keep a grasp on the doorknob but before you can back out, Mr. Laufeyson lifts his gaze from the laptop and catches you in his sights.

“Stay,” he demands and slowly closes the laptop lid. You wince as it clicks. “I thought you quit.”

You stand dumbly in the door. You glance from him to the wall then down at the bottle in your hand. He clicks his tongue and his chair squeaks as he leans forward.

“You may speak. I want to know where you were.”

Why? Your habitual silence keeps you from blurting that out. You clear your throat.

“I couldn’t work, that’s all,” you say, peeking up at him sheepishly.

He tilts his head as he narrows his eyes, “for what reason?”

You don’t know what to tell him. You don’t think he really cares. You roll the bottle in your grasp.

“I had an emergency,” you explain, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t–”

He puts his hand up, “they sent another one. I didn’t like her. She didn’t dust the mantle.”

“I’m sorry, sir–”

“Mr. Laufeyson will do,” he corrects.

“Mister–”

“We’re done speaking,” he interrupts.

You sniff. Did you offend him? Should you have told him more? You only want to be professional and it wouldn’t be proper to bring your personal life to work, would it? 

He stands suddenly and you grip the bottle tight, keeping your arms straight at your side. He struts around the desk, his height emphasized by his long steps. He approaches you, stopping as you move out of the way of the door.

“Fix the chair,” he demands, “that damn noise is driving me mad.”

He sweeps out, leaving you grasping the bottle of grease in confusion. Is he mad? And why is he so concerned with your absence? He doesn’t seem very fond of you. Will he tell Clara? Could he have you fired?

You try not to worry about it. You already have enough on your mind. You can only do what you can do. Grease the chair and finish the job.

[enwrites]

Cloud Nine (p.sh) — pt. 2

pairings: brother's bff!sunghoon x afab!reader

warning: 18+ MDNI !! (not proofread at all im so sorry)

genre/cw: smut, somewhat angst, emotional tension, unresolved feelings, pining, sunghoon is dumb and emo, crying, arguing, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap pls), riding, slight fingering, slight usage of pet names, breeding, body worship kinda?, jay is still very much your brother here and is overprotective of you, heeseung cameo + mention of jake, fluff if you squint i think (lmk if anything was missed!)

synopsis: after what happened the previous week, tensions are high. sunghoon is left to his own feelings and thoughts as he tries to overcome the mess he made. will he be able to mend things and fix the trouble he caused?

wc: 5.7k words

a/n: here is the long awaited pt two which now concludes cloud nine, everyone cheer!! i've been meaning to post this earlier but got side tracked lol but also tumblr deleted this and i had to redo the layout. tysm for all your kind words and feedback so far on my blog! it means so much to me. i wasnt too happy about this in the end but i felt i needed to finish what i started, ty for bearing with me <3 and again hope u all enjoy~

[ masterlist ] [ part one ]

A week has passed since the incident took place. 

Days grow long, painful almost as lingering feelings grow stronger and stronger. Sunghoon just couldn’t bring himself to come face to face with you any more. Hell, he couldn’t even face your brother either, his body trembles a bit, remembering what came after. 

Both of your faces drop realizing Jay had been awake the entire time. Sunghoon looks at you as he starts to panic, gathering his clothes back on at the speed of light. You follow him, putting yours on as well. This was not going to be good. The both of you trying to hurry down the stairs to get Sunghoon out, Jay beat you guys to it. The look of anger plastered all over his face, arms crossed as he stood up hastily from the couch, his eyes on the both of you. 

If looks could kill, you both would be dead, lying lifeless on the ground. 

Sunghoon shutters as he comes face to face with his best friend as he hangs his head low. You tremble as well, your brother has always been scary to you. His stare was so cold, you felt like your living room had turned into Antarctica. You scurried down, making your way slightly in between the two boys. “Look, Jay, it’s not what it—,” he cuts you off.

“Not what it looks like? You two were just fucking?! How could you two do this to me? How could YOU do this to me? That’s my fucking sister?” He finishes off as he jabs his finger into Sunghoon’s chest, anger and disappointment running through his veins. Sunghoon lets out an exhausted sigh, running his hands through his hair. Anxiety coursing through his entire body, he felt like he needed to run away and hide. 

“Jay, please just liste—,” Sunghoon shakily speaks up only to be cut off. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. The two of you both knew that once Jay got angry, there was no stopping him.

“What the fuck is there to listen to? I've heard enough, you had ONE rule, anyone else but my sister!” Jay shouts at Sunghoon’s face, the younger boy hangs his head low again. He didn’t know what to say. Small cries were heard as he turned his head to the side, heart breaking as he saw tears running down your face. He wanted to reach for you right there, to hold you. To tell you he was going to fix this. But he couldn’t. 

Too overwhelmed by everything that was happening, you just stood there, silently crying as the two boys looked at one another. No one dared to utter a word. The silence was heavy and suffocating within the room. All you could think about was how glad you were that your parents weren’t here for any of this. 

“Jay… please just—,” Sunghoon tried to speak up once more, Jay was pushed to the edge. “Just get the fuck out of the house, I can’t even fucking look at you right now… you’re lucky I don’t just kill you right now,” Jay spits at him one last time. Sunghoon had no choice but to leave. He takes one more look at you, his entire world shattering. You look back at him with tear stained eyes, wanting to stop him. But you couldn’t. No one would do anything. The boy hung his head low as he made his way out of your house. Getting into his car, that was when it all came out.

The tears he was holding back poured out of his eyes as he tried to compose himself to drive off. Did he really just lose the two people he loved all in a single night?

Now Sunghoon was contemplating whether or not he wanted to finally make his way to classes, ditching every single day since then. The days grow long and cold, especially not having his best friend there, or anyone there for that matter. Who was he supposed to talk to about all of this? He had been ignoring your messages since that night, not really knowing how to face what just happened.

He wanted to speak to Jay and explain his feelings. But how the hell do you tell your best friend that you’ve been secretly in love with his sister this entire time. He just couldn’t. He always knew Jay would kill him, having given him the “don’t you dare go after my sister” speech the first day they met. Jay has given all of his friends that speech. Sunghoon knew better and he especially knew what he was doing that night was risky. 

Guilt washed over him like a wave onto the shore, crashing onto everything into its way. Even if he were to try and mend things, he can’t lie and say he hasn’t been the greatest to you either. Sunghoon didn’t mean to ignore you, he really didn’t. He tried to push his feelings aside, he wanted things to go back to normal. He knew he was hurting you as he ignored your texts and calls to him. Maybe he wasn’t good for you after all. He didn’t want to hurt you and he didn’t want to hurt Jay as well. Sunghoon groaned into his pillow as frustration and sadness filled his body. Wallowing in his sadness, he was taken back to reality as a persistent knock was banged onto his dorm room door. His heart fell to his ass. 

What if it were Jay? What if it were you? Surely you wouldn’t want anything to do with him after being ignored for a week now. He hesitantly gets up, making his way to the entrance. Impatient, the person behind the door pounds onto the frame once more. Sunghoon gulps, palms getting clammy thinking who it could be. Before he can pull it open, a voice loudly speaks up. 

“Dude I know you’re awake, just open the damn door already!” Yelled the person behind the door. He lets out a sigh of relief. Opening the door, Heeseung makes his way in. Pushing past the shorter boy, he makes his way to the desk and sits on the computer chair. Letting out a deep sigh, he scrunches his nose as he takes in the dorm room. Sunghoon takes notice of his distasteful expression, head hung low as he realizes how bad his room really did look. 

“God… you look rough, when was the last time you even showered?” Heeseung spits, shaking his head in disappointment. This was the worst he has ever seen the boy. All of his years of knowing Sunghoon, not once has anything affected him in this way. Not even Sunghoon’s very first girlfriend had this effect on him. Heeseung was fed up with seeing his two closest friends feud, so he needed to make a change. Heeseung had always known how much Sunghoon really liked you anyways. 

Everyone knew how much the two of you secretly liked one another. 

Heeseung wasn’t stupid and he knew Jay wasn’t either. Jay was just stubborn and has always been that way. Of course, who’d want their best friend to fuck their little sister? But Heeseung knew there was no changing Sunghoon’s feelings for you as well as yours for him. Anyone could see it from a mile away, even tens, thousands even. 

Sunghoon keeps his head low, not being able to make eye contact with the older boy either. “I don’t know… maybe like yesterday…,” Sunghoon muttered. He definitely didn’t shower yesterday.

“Yesterday my ass, this place is a mess dude… keep this up and Y/n is definitely not gonna want your stinky ass, figuratively and literally, yuck…,” Heeseung says in disgust as he eyes the empty ramen cups and cans all over the boy’s desk, reaching to his floor. “Plus Mrs. Kim has been on my ass to get you to come back to class… you realize attendance is important right?” The older boy finishes almost as if he was lecturing Sunghoon. Sunghoon throws his head back, a groan erupting once more from him. 

“Yes I know dad… and Y/n doesn’t want me anyways, she probably hates me right now,” Sunghoon grumbles as he sighs, sadness lacing his tone. Heeseung rubs the temple of his, exhausted at how far this has come. 

“You really are fucking stupid,” Heeseung chuckles. Sunghoon, now annoyed, sits up to look at the other. “Look if you just came here to give me shit you can leave!” Sunghoon loudly said to him. Heeseung puts his hands up, surrendering.

“I’m just here to help bud—,” Sunghoon cuts him off. “Help my ass? How exactly are you helping?” Sunghoon bites back, anger brewing within him.

“Maybe if you haven’t been hiding for a week, you’d know how badly Y/n and Jay are fighting, better yet you’d know how badly she needs you right now. Yeah, Jay isn’t so happy, who would be? You literally fucked his— WHAT THE FUCK?” a pillow was thrown to his face before he could finish. 

“Before I was rudely interrupted, both of them miss you… no matter how much Jay hates to admit it, he misses you. He’ll get over it eventually, everyone knew you two had the hots for each other anyways,” Heeseung rolls his eyes as he finishes. Sunghoon cocks an eyebrow, confused at the last statement.

“What do you mean everyone knew…,” Sunghoon quietly asks the older boy. Heeseung sighs again as he face palms himself, clearly Sunghoon was not the smartest guy alive. 

“Dude… we’ve all known since high school… you aren’t very slick … we see your eyes traveling… we see the way you look at her and stuff, Jay isn’t stupid. He just hates to admit that you actually like his sister, I mean who could blame you, she’s smokin—OW!” Sunghoon throws a water bottle to Heeseung’s head, not wanting to hear the last part. But Heeseung was right. He had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Bittersweet feelings fill his chest as he remembers the first day he met you. 

He remembered the day Jay had introduced you to him as the three of you decided to walk home from school together that day. To say he was in awe was an understatement. Remembering your cute smile, your sweet tone, and the way you giggled at his jokes. Ever since then, he had always teased you any chance he’d get. His small jokes turning into rather more annoying pranks, he loved just getting a reaction from you. The more you grew annoyed by his presence, he took notice as it made him secretly upset. But you never once pushed him away, you always made sure to still make him snacks if you were making anything, you always packed an extra lunch in case he wanted some. Sunghoon felt your lingering touches, no matter how “mad” you seemed to get at him.

But of course, your older brother held the two of you back. He knew it was wrong for him to go after his best friend’s sister of all people, so he tried his best to suppress his feelings. He made it a point to mess with you whenever he could. It was the only time you’d look at him, acknowledge him even. So he hid his feelings for you, but not well enough apparently. 

“Helloooo, earth to Sunghoon? Are you coming to class today or what?” Heeseung snaps at Sunghoon, bringing him back to life. Sunghoon blinks a couple of times before getting up. He needed to speak with Jay. He needed to see you again. Puzzled, Heeseung looks at him with furrowed brows. 

“Yeah… let’s go,” Sunghoon utters as he gathers his things to get ready to leave. Heeseung stands up, sucking in his teeth and stopping the boy in his tracks. A confused expression washes over Sunghoon’s face.

“Uhh… yeah before we go… I’m gonna need you to shower and brush your teeth… and I’ll help freshen up this room for you in the meantime— I got a feeling you’re gonna need it,” he pushes the boy into the direction of his bathroom, before getting ready to clean the dirty room for his friend. Sunghoon chuckles, as a smile creeps onto his face. He knew he could always count on Heeseung.

Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh as Heeseung’s car pulls into the campus parking lot. His heart felt like it was going to explode. What if he wasn’t ready?

“I’m not ready,” he softly speaks up, catching the attention of the other boy. Heeseung sighs again as he turns his car off, looking towards the younger boy. 

“Look, Hoon, you know I love you— no homo, but I hate seeing you like this and I hate seeing Jay like this. You two need to fix whatever this is, okay? I’m here for the both of you no matter what and that’s not going to change,” he looks at Sunghoon to reassure him that he was in fact being serious before continuing on. Truly, it broke his heart to see one of his best friends in this state of sadness. 

“And I know how much Y/n means to you, trust me when I say you two are perfect for one other. Jay isn’t heartless you know, the two of you mean a lot to him and I know he’d want you guys to be happy if it meant he had to share you with his sister— man this sounds so fruity but you know what I mean!” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a playful punch as the two of them laugh it off. Sunghoon takes a deep breath in and exhales out. He couldn’t go any longer without seeing you. With that, the two boys make their way out of the car and towards the campus. 

Stares fall upon the two as rumors clearly spread like wildfire. These were the consequences they paid for going to a smaller campus. Sunghoon looks to the floor, watching his feet as he makes his way to his first class. Maybe everyone did know. 

Plus he didn’t look the greatest at the moment either. Noticeable eye bags lay plastered on his face, hair a bit disheveled as he sported just a baggy hoodie and some sweats his first day back. He looked rough. 

He and Heeseung finally get to their first class and take their respective seats at the table they frequented. Sunghoon knew Jay had this class as well, anxiety eating away at him as his heart rate increases, he felt like he was going to hurl all the ramen he ate last night. He crosses his arm as he slams his head onto the table, too afraid to face his best friend. 

“Dude, it’s gonna be okay, it’s just Jay,” Heeseung says nonchalantly. Yeah it was just Jay, it’s not like he hasn’t seen Jay beat guys up for breaking your heart or anything. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Jay almost kill a guy for laying his hands onto you unprompted. He knew how much you meant to Jay and he was afraid Jay wouldn’t understand how he felt. And what he heard that night definitely didn’t seem like Sunghoon liked you as much as he did. For all he could’ve known, it might’ve seemed like Sunghoon was using you. 

Sunghoon raises his head from the table as he looks up, catching eyes with Jay as he makes his way through the door. Jay wore an uninterested expression on his face, Sunghoon not being able to read how he felt. He trembles a bit under his stare, as Jay takes a seat across from him, next to Heeseung. Without a word being spoken, the professor makes her way in, delighted to finally see Sunghoon back and well. 

“Ahh, Sunghoon, it’s nice to see you joining us again, alright now let’s get back to where we ended off yesterday,” she says to the whole class as everyone fishes out their books. Jay seemed almost too calm for Sunghoon’s liking. Sunghoon decides to wait until the class ends to speak to the other boy. To say he was nervous was surely an understatement. 

~

With the blink of an eye, class was over. Sunghoon nervously looks over to Jay as he sees the boy packing up his things to get out. Jay gets up, not even acknowledging the nervous boy as he makes his way out of the door. Sunghoon hurriedly gathers his things as he runs after him. You’d think he was actually in love with Jay or something. He manages to catch up to him as they both make their way out of the back exit. 

“Jay, dude wait— hold up please!” Sunghoon shouts, panting as he lets out a breath. Jay stops in his tracks as he turns to look at Sunghoon, taking in his noticeably rough appearance. Jay sighs, gripping the strap of his backpack. Sunghoon wore a pitiful expression, not knowing what to say. 

“Look Jay, I know what I did was really fucked… I know you’ll never forgive me… but I really, really—,” Jay stops the boy in his tracks, cutting him off.

“I know you like her, I’ve known for a while actually,” Jay deadpans. Sighing once more, he continues on as Sunghoon’s expression puzzles. “I’m not stupid, I see the way you look at her, c’mon dude, I just didn’t think you two would be like that while I was in the house… I don't wanna hear my sister like that! You could’ve at least taken her to your dorm or something…,” Jay trails, cringing at what he was put through last weekend. “Plus you could’ve literally just told me,” Jay rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the distraught boy. 

A confused expression overcomes Sunghoon’s face. “How was I supposed to tell you?! You said you’d kill me!” Jay groans loudly, face palming as annoyance grows within him. 

“I say that to everyone, but you’re literally my best friend, who else would I trust more,” Jay states as if it was obvious information. 

“So… are we cool?” Sunghoon asks softly. Jay rolls his eyes once more before a slight smile appears onto his face. It was really pathetic seeing his best friend this way.

“We’re about to not be if you keep her waiting for you and if you hurt her, I will seriously kill you,” Jay sternly says as he gives Sunghoon’s arm a little punch. “Seriously dude you should not be wasting your time with me, Y/n has been crying all week over you, you should really fix—,” Sunghoon cuts him off before hearing the last part.

“Oh my god— Y/n,” Sunghoon loudly says as he pushes Jay aside, running to find you. Jay shakes his head. All he could only do was hope you two would be okay. Your mother once said, to never get in the way of love. As much as he wished his best friend didn’t fall for you, he always knew the two of you liked each other. He just hoped in the future, he would never fall victim to your disgusting acts.

Sunghoon ran around the campus, asking anyone and everyone if they had seen you. Panic courses through his veins as he starts to think maybe you didn’t want to see him. Pushing his thoughts aside, he told himself he’d deal with the consequences later. He just needed to see you again. His head snaps as he hears an all too familiar laugh. There he sees you sitting at an outside table with a few of your friends. He hastily makes his way to you, catching the attention of those at your table. 

“Is that Sunghoon?” Your friend asks, catching your attention. Your heart starts to race. You turn your head around, catching his eye as he stands in front of you, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sunghoon? What are you doin—,” without giving you a chance to speak, he grabs your wrist, ushering you to get up. “Let’s talk somewhere else, get your stuff,” he pants out, tugging you a little. Confused and almost excited to see he was alive and well, you gather your things as you mumble “sorry” to your friends, only to get devious smirks in return. After gathering your things, Sunghoon takes your bag as he starts to pull the two of you away, heading towards the dorms. Luckily, the buildings weren’t too far. 

“Sunghoon— Sunghoon! Wait, where are you taking me… why haven’t you been speaking to me?” You let out, as the taller boy continues to still drag you away and off campus. Sunghoon not listening, too deep into his mission to get you two to his dorm room, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Where are we going?” You ask once more as you are now being dragged down a hill. 

“Dorm,” Sunghoon nonchalantly replies back, your face heats up a bit, you’ve never been to his dorm before. Before you knew it, you were in front of a large building, not too far from campus. Sunghoon pushed past the doors, leading the two of you up the stairs of the building, too impatient to wait for the elevators. Students around you, staring at the two of you concerningly, watching a stern Sunghoon drag you around. You give them a sheepish smile, hoping to reassure them that you were okay.

Now on the second floor, the two of you make it down a hall. Sunghoon stops the two of you in your tracks, fishing his keys out. You stood in front of a door with a big ‘202’ on it. The nerves start to get to Sunghoon as he now realizes the situation in its entirety. He wasn’t really sure what he was going to say to you. Will you hate him? Do you hate him? He shook his thoughts away, hurriedly opening his door, letting you in first. You awkwardly step in as he closes the door behind you. Taking in the room before you, the scent of his cologne fills your nose. You walk your way to his bed, taking a seat as you watch him pick up a few lingering articles of clothing on his floor, throwing it into a basket. 

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat, gaining his attention. Making sure to move your bag to his desk chair, he walks towards you, taking a seat on the bed as well. You shift a little, making some room. To you it seemed like nothing, to him he feared the shifting meant you hated him. Did you even wanna be around him right now?

“Hoon what’s this all abou—,” before letting you finish, he cuts you off pulling you into a kiss. Taken aback, your eyes widened, softening against his touch as you gave into him. He deepened the kiss, reaching up as he laced his fingers through your hair, taking all of you in. Oh how he has missed you dearly. You pull away as tears form in your eyes, looking down onto your lap you fiddle your fingers. He reaches for your hand, taking it into his. The tears, now falling onto your lap as you couldn’t look him in the eyes, confused as to why he suddenly decided to acknowledge you again. 

“H-Hoonie… why did you leave me hanging?” You shakily asked, reaching your free hand up to wipe your tears away. His heart breaks as he watches you. Quite frankly, he didn’t know why he ignored you either. He reaches both of his hands up, taking your face into his palms, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. You secretly admit that after all the whole situation was somewhat silly but you couldn’t help but still be hurt as you felt like he didn’t reciprocate feelings back. Sunghoon takes in a shaky deep breath, tucking your hair behind your ears for you. 

“Y/n you know I’m stupid— right?” He softly asks you. You nod your head in response. Sunghoon reaches his hands back down to yours again, taking them in. “I’m so stupid, the stupidest guy ever, I wasn’t really sure what to do after that. I was afraid and feeling too many things all at once I guess I was just scared.” He lets out as a sigh left his mouth as well. 

“I know that’s not an excuse and I know this may sound crazy but I really like you Y/n…,” he trails as he looks at your face trying to get a hint as to what you were thinking. He hangs his head low as he was afraid of hearing your response. He gives your hands a little squeeze, bringing you back to life. 

Did he just say he liked you? A slight blush creeps up your face as you sniffle, wiping what was left of your tears away. His heart pounds rapidly, he felt like he was going to throw up whatever leftover instant ramen he had in his stomach. “Please Y/n… say something… anything…,” he whispers. You look up to him as you lay your head onto his shoulder. 

“I like you too Sunghoon,” you let out. His heart felt like it was going to explode. He needed some sort of reassurance. He wasn’t hallucinating now— was he?

“No Y/n, I really like you,” he says against your head. Now it was your turn to feel like your heart was exploding. Butterflies fill your stomach. “You really are so stupid,” you giggle as you lift your head up, looking him in his eyes. Before letting him speak, you pull him into a kiss. His hands instantly reach for your waist, holding you as you lean into him. He lets go of the kiss, putting his forehead against yours. “Y/n I’m really sorry, I know you’re probably still upset with me but—,” you cut him off as you pull his lips into a kiss once more. The two of you kick your shoes off, scooting your way further into his bed. Sunghoon’s back hits the headboard of his bed, you deepen the kiss straddling him as his hands linger down your waist and to your ass. 

“Off… please,” you mumble into the kiss, tugging at his hoodie. Taking the hint, he takes off his hoodie and shirt in one go, leaving him in just his sweats. You bite your lip as you take him in. The sight of him shirtless drove you insane. Sunghoon smirks as you stare at him, mouth agape. 

“Like what you see?” He winks at you. You roll your eyes as you sit on his lap, a moan leaves your mouth as you feel his noticeable bulge. He bucks his hips up into you, gripping your waist as you grind down on him. Small whimpers fall from your mouth. Sunghoon grows harder and harder as the sight of you dry humping him got him excited. He gropes your ass, leaving a slight smack on your cheeks. You let out a yelp, surprised at the sudden sensation. He reaches up to unbutton your shirt, needing to see you. You take this moment to free yourself from your clothes, shimmying out of your skirt, leaving you in just your lingerie. Sunghoon does the same, taking his sweats off. He looks back up to you, still leaning against his headboard. 

“Fuck Y/n, how many of these little outfits do you have?” He says as he caresses your body, feeling you with his hands. Here you are, clad in a little red lingerie set, sitting on top of him. All for him. He hungrily pulls you down into a sloppy makeout session, your arms reach behind his neck, pulling him in closer as you grind onto his bulge. He swears he could just cum all over you like this. He pulls back, trailing kisses down your chest, reaching behind your back, undoing your bra.

“As much as I like these on you, I prefer them much better off,” he says, laying kisses onto your breasts as he looks up to make eye contact with you. The shyness of the situation kicking in, your face heats up. You reach up to cover your face as he pulls your arms back down. He kisses all over you as a hand reaches for your boob. He gropes your boob, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He latched his mouth onto your other, sucking your tit like his life depended on it. You let out a loud moan, trying your best to not cause a noise disturbance. He pulls back with a pop, reaching his hand down to your pussy. To his surprise you were already soaked, the same way you were a week ago. 

“God, you are so pretty Y/n, you’re mine… all mine… fuck how did I get so lucky?” He says looking into your eyes as his fingers now circle your clit. Your body felt like it was on fire. You needed him badly and you needed him now. 

“All yours Hoonie— no one else’s,” you let out as you hump into his fingers a little. Your hands trail down to his boxers as you tug onto them, needing to feel him inside you again. He motions for you to get off. He takes this moment to take his boxers off as you take your panties off. He lays down onto his bed, putting his arms behind his head. Now fully naked, you reach down, legs still over him, you grab his painfully hard cock, giving it a slight stroke. He groans, bucking his hip into your hands. 

“Fuck baby, how about you show me you can ride, you’re awfully good at it don’t you think?” He says, giving you a devilish smirk. You squeeze his cock, giving him a slight eye roll. The thought of you riding your pillow fills his head. The memories forever now etched into his brain as a keepsake. He needed to experience that for himself. Not being able to handle the heat, you hover over his cock, rubbing his tip against your slick folds, earning whimpers from the both of you. 

“You’re so fucking wet, have you been waiting for this?” He groans out as you rub your wetness all over him. You eagerly nodded back at him, mumbling a little “yes” in response. You slowly sink yourself onto him. Sucking in your breath, you didn’t remember him being this huge. Sunghoon throws his head back as he feels your tight cunt, sucking him in and swallowing him whole. You finally get all of him in, sitting down on him. Your pussy felt so full as you pulsate, squeezing around his cock. He bucks his hip into you, needing you to move. 

“You feel so much bigger than last time,” you let out, slowly moving your hip up his shaft. Moving back down, he whines out your name. Your heart skips a beat. You move your hips up and down, increasing your pace. You lay your hands on his chest, riding him as you let out moans of his name. Sunghoon knew he needed to fill you up again. He puts his hands on your waist, gripping your sides as he helps you bounce on him. Watching your tits bounce, he was awestruck. 

“You look so hot Y/n, taking my cock so well baby, such a good girl for me,” he pants out. You whine as you let the pleasure overcome your body, you feel your first climax approaching. Sunghoon bucks into you, your cunt squeezing around his cock. 

“Hoonie~ I-I’m gonna c-cum!” You shout loudly. He fucks into you harder, holding you up as he repeatedly hit your g spot over and over again. 

“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight, cum for me,” he groans out as your pussy tightens even harder. He has never felt anything like it before. With one more pump, you let go all over him, screaming his name. Before you could even come back down, he flips the two of you over, pounding into your pussy. He takes one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, pumping deeper into you. Overstimulated, you start to tear up as he continues to stroke harder into your cunt. 

“Too much… please Hoonie… g’nna cum … again,” you cried out. He reaches down, taking your lips into his. He shoves his tongue in your mouth as you moan into his mouth. He was so close to reaching his own climax as well. He pulls back as a slight trail of spit forms between the two of you. 

“So close Y/n, cum for me again baby,” he coos into your ear as he fucks into you harder. You scream his name once more as your nails dig into his back. Holding him close, he pumps one last time, before he erupts into you, his cum filling you up as he groans out your name. He slowly pumps a bit more as he rides both of your highs out. He trailed kisses down your neck and looked up to you, pulling his cock out slowly. Sitting up, he watches his cum spill out of your hole, fingering it back in slightly like the very first time. This was never going to get old. You hold yourself up slightly with your elbows as you cock an eyebrow at him. A puzzling expression lay on his face. 

“What? No picture this time?” You chuckled, breaking out into a smile. He giggles at your question, leaning down to give you a peck on your lips. The two of you look into each other’s eyes, butterflies in both of your stomachs now. “I forgive you by the way,” you say, breaking the silence. Sunghoon gives you a toothy smile.

“Good, cause you’re all mine…,” he speaks softly, giving your forehead a kiss. You giggle, smiling at him endearingly. You knew your life was going to be extremely different now. But nothing mattered in the moment but you and him. 

“All yours Hoonie… all yours,” you pull him down, nuzzling into his neck, not caring about the mess the two of you just made all over his bed. Sunghoon picks up his phone, checking the time. His face turns pale. Confused, you took a peak, your face now losing color as well.

*Heeseung sent you a message!*

Heeseung: jfc we could hear the two of you all the way from Jake’s room 🤮

© enwrites // tumblr

[kurogane2512]

Kuro it's me comix......

Three way sex with ningguang and Yelan g!p reader (since i don't think you write for male reader like i do but it's fine i like your stuff) but instead of a threeway it just turns into reader breeding the hell outta both of them

Heyy thank you so much for requesting, it's my first time writing male reader so do give me feedback if the characterization is fine and how I can improve :) Thank you for waiting as always! <3

18+ CONTENT MDNI

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: Ningguang and Yelan x male!reader

Type: Smut (threesome, creampie, double handjob and blowjob, kissing, reader gets tied up, power bottom Ningguang and Yelan)

The vibrant fireworks of the Lantern Rite embellished the night sky; at the same time, the Jade Chamber was filled with sinful sounds of lovemaking and passion.

"My~ Seems you have been pent up quite a bit, Y/n~" Ningguang whispered in your right ear while stroking your shaft with her gloved hand, her breath and angelic voice sending shivers down your skin.

"Of course, he would be. You have kept him away for weeks, Ningguang~" Yelan continued by whispering in your left ear, rubbing your tip with her palm.

You were currently in Ningguang's private quarters at the Jade Chamber; to be precise, you were currently tied up with Yelan's strings on Ningguang's bed with both of them beside you.

"You do realize how busy I get? Besides, our agreement is to pleasure me when I call him. It's natural we spend quite a bit of time apart." Ningguang replied and licked the edge of your ear, her palm moving rubbing your shaft unbearably slow. What she said was indeed correct, you were merely in a contractual relationship with Ningguang, a mere plaything for her to satisfy her desires and release her frustrations.

"You do realize how cruel that is to him? You have even banned him from doing it with someone else~" Yelan continued, your pre-cum gathered on her palm which she used to stroke your head.

"Of course, I would. He belongs to me, exclusively. Even you I'm allowing just for today since you seduced him so much~"

Ningguang let go of your shaft and instead moved down to lick a long strip along your shaft, Yelan followed soon after and licked across your head.

"Hmm~ Doesn't that mean he's weak to be the plaything of the Tianquan?~"

"Oh, please, cut him some slack. I know he held back a lot for my sake, isn't that right, Y/n?~"

"Y-yes, mmhm!~" you let out a low moan the moment both of them began licking your dick at the same time.

Yelan swirled her tongue on your tip, gathering your pre-cum and spreading it around before wrapping her lips around the tip and sucking. Meanwhile, Ningguang left wet kisses on your shaft and licked long strips before coming up to your tip. They then switched roles, Ningguang bobbed her head up and down your tip while Yelan licked your shaft, simultaneously stroking your sac.

"Ngh! L-Lady Ningguang....Y-Yelan....! I-I'm close!~"

You bucked your hips into Ningguang's mouth, desperately trying to release your hands from the strings so you could push her down and fuck her mouth. Yelan instead tightened the strings even more, making you lie back down as Ningguang abruptly stopped sucking and came up to your face with a smirk.

"You remember the terms of our contract well, don't you?"

"Y-Yes, I only cum when you tell me to...."

"Good boy. You shouldn't need to be reminded for the rest of the night, right?~"

"My~ How uptight the Tianquan is. No wonder none of the other 'playthings' stayed for long~"

"You are running your mouth a bit too much today, Yelan." Ningguang warned Yelan who simply chuckled and swiftly straddled your lap, catching Ningguang off-guard.

"I was simply trying to lighten the mood because I feel bad for poor Y/n having to keep up with you. Hey, why don't you come with me? I'll give you a better deal than the Tianquan~"

"That's enough from you Yelan, unless you want to be thrown out."

"Hah~ Look how much in pain he is...." Yelan rubbed her core across your hard dick, "....How about I let you cum inside me? I'm sure Ningguang hasn't let you done that yet~"

Your eyes widened hearing Yelan's proposal, Ningguang observed your expression and frowned before straddling your face, facing Yelan while placing her cunt on your mouth.

"Hmm~ I didn't think our very capable Ms Yelan was so desperate to have a man she barely knows cum inside her~"

"Oh, I know him enough. Don't forget I was the one who did a background check on him for you~"

"Hehe~ If you think that's all there is to know about him then you are sitting on the wrong place~"

Yelan smirked before standing on her knees and aligning your shaft with her core, you felt her juices coat your tip as she took it in slowly before sitting down in one go. You hissed as your dick penetrated her hot and tight walls, feeling clamped by them. Ningguang watched the scene in envy and began rocking herself back n forth on your mouth.

Yelan set a relentless pace as she thrusted herself on your dick, her plump ass slapping against your thighs. Meanwhile, Ningguang wasn't far behind. You inserted your tongue in her slit as she rubbed herself, thrusting up and down on your mouth. Your senses were overtaken by both of them, your mind becoming hazy from the overwhelming pleasure but you were far from done and so were Yelan and Ningguang.

"Aaah! He's hitting so deep....N-No wonder you chose him, N-Ningguang—ngh!~" Yelan moaned as she fucked herself faster.

"I-I always....choose the best—mhm!~" Ningguang gasped as your tongue prodded at her sensitive spots.

Both of them panted out and rode you harder before moaning loudly as they came. Ningguang released her juices on your mouth that you religiously drank up and cleaned her while Yelan came on your dick as well and halted her movements.

"Heh~ He really didn't cum because you didn't tell him to~" Yelan mused before pulling out and sitting beside you, observing your throbbing hard dick that was ready to burst any moment.

"Hehe, I have trained him well, haven't I?~" Ningguang chuckled proudly before getting up from your mouth and sitting on the other side.

"L-Lady Ningguang....please....I can't anymore...." you pleaded out, too desperate to cum now. Ningguang smirked before making her over to your lap and pushing herself on your dick, lightly moaning as you hit her deepest spots.

"We don't have any condoms today but I'll give you a gift for Lantern Rite...." she leaned down and pecked your lips, ".....You can cum inside me today~"

A newfound energy surged through your body and Ningguang whimpered feeling your dick twitch inside her, "My~ Did that make you so excited? Being able to cum inside the Tianquan of Liyue?~"

She sneered and began riding you but you didn't let her as you instead bucked your hips up and made her arch back. Yelan released your arms as well and you wasted no time to grab Ningguang's waist and slam her down on your lap as you quickly pounded into her. She leaned forward and stabilized herself by clenching your shoulders while you continued ramming, fucking her out of her mind.

"C-Cum...cum in me, Y/n!~"

"As you wish, Lady Ningguang~"

You bucked your hips up and slammed into her deepest as you released your seed and painted her walls, she moaned loudly and came again feeling your hot cum seep inside her. She panted out and rested on your body before laying down beside you. Yelan watched you two intently the whole time, feeling her own arousal pool between her thighs as she fingered her clit looking at the scene in front of her.

"Hey. It's no fair if you both have all the fun~" You sat up at her statement and pushed her down as you came on top of her and aligned your dick with her entrance.

"Are you sure, Yelan?" you asked for confirmation and she nodded with a smile before pulling you close by your jaw, "Show me what you got~"

You smirked then pushed into her and sheathed yourself in one go, her back arching with a gasp. You wasted no time and pounded into her, her legs wrapping around your waist to pull you deeper.

"F-Faster....Harder.....F-Fuck me, Y/n!~" Yelan moaned loudly and you grunted before pushing her legs further, practically folding her into a mating press as you drilled hard and fast. Her moans and sound of your skin slapping filled the room, you leaned down and wrapped your lips around her perky nipple and sucked on them before biting down and pulling them.

"Aaaahn~! T-There....Y/n! More....right there! Give it to me!~"

Your hips slammed against her before hilting to the base as you came deep inside her, her hands clenching your back as she cried out in ecstasy. Your cum spilled down her thighs as you pulled out, gazing at her fucked-out state before you heard Ningguang chuckle on the side and embrace you from behind.

"It seems I should let you take reign more from now on, this state of yours isn't bad~" She slid her hand down to grab your dick while kissing your neck but you held her wrist and stopped her.

Confused, she was about to question you and but you quickly turned around and flipped her on her back. The Tianquan was surprised realizing what you were going to do but had no time to speak up as you propped her on her all fours and hilted into her warmth. She moaned out as you set a grueling pace, pounding into her and fucking her out.

You had enough of her controlling you, you wanted to show the Tianquan that you weren't so fragile just because you let her do as she pleased with you. Not to mention, she was simply too ethereal for you to miss this opportunity. Filling her up with your seed was the best gift you could have, and you made sure she would be feeling nothing but that for the rest of the day.

"Ah! Ah! Y/n! Haaaah!~ Yes! More! Fuck me! Yes~ Right there!"

The Tianquan's moans were music to your ears, her desperate and neediness to be filled by you was incomparable. You squeezed her ass and pounded faster and deeper once again before finally pushing deep and releasing another load into her. Her limbs lost their strength as she rested on the bed with your dick still inside her, hard and throbbing.

Just at that time, Yelan made her way to lie beside Ningguang and spread her legs for you. Well, it seems it was going to be a long night for you three. You couldn't ask for a better Lantern Rite than getting to fill two of the most powerful and beautiful women of Liyue with your seed.

[lunamochii]

Catching your attention || jake sully x fem!omaticaya reader

—+> notes; minors dni, this is a smut so read with caution😝feedbacks is always appreciated! Reblogs are ok🤍

Catching the attention of Toruk Makto was never easy, no matter how you dress yourself up. Wearing the finest top, handmade by you. It seems his eyes were just set towards his goal. It has been years already ever since he was pointed as the new Olo’eyktan still he haven’t choose a mate yet.

You, a mere Na’vi, all you can do is pray and wait for the hunting party to come back safe and sound but it can’t still be avoided that they come back with bruises. You were only given a chance three to five times to patch up Jake and those times you hoped time would slow down.

Sighing you comb your hair and decided you will hault your antics on catching his attention for a week, as you decided to give up. You decided to wore the beaded top your mother gave to you when you became adult. You only adjusted a few things so you can still fit the top, you love it. One of your favorites. Letting your hair fall down and only braiding strands of hair each side, you decided to venture out.

You got up and walk towards your tent but before you can even pull the curtains blocking the entrance, your tail immediately prop up, the tip of your tail swaying back and forth. Standing before you is Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan. You gulp down and tried to lower your tail down

“I see you, Olo’eyktan Jake”

You greeted and when your eyes met his you prayed to Eywa that the ground would start consuming you now, his hair is a bit disheveled, he also have a cut on his lower lip, knuckles bleeding on both hands. Your eyebrows arch up and you look at him, he smiled before letting out a chuckle

“I came here wanting to be patch up by you without some scolding, okay? Unlike Mo’at, you patch less harsher”

You scoff and let him in as you grab the bowl where you always put your ointments, you told him to sit down and he you got better look of his back. He also have bruises in there

“Just a mere healer, I have no rights to question you olo’eyktan”

You said and sat down immediately starting to patch him, you rolled your eyes mentally. Just when you made up your mind to give up and here he is, you were so lost in your thought that you were taken back when he grab your wrist

“I said ouch, Y/N”

You blink twice as you grab your wrist away from him and look down

“Ngaytxoa”

You whispered and you look back at him trying to see if he still wants you to proceed, he nodded his head so you went back on patching him.

Jake watch you treat the wounds on his knuckles, not his fault for beating the shit out of those fuckers who talk shit about you. Remembering how they talk about you, it’s like they were undressing you basing on the words they were using. It hasn’t been that long when he started noticing your presence, everytime he comes back he would casually look at your direction. You always look at him with worried expression, if not for Mo’at who always drag him to patch him up. He would come running to you, if his not out for hunting, he would just take a walk to the spots he knew you were going, though he never had the courage to come up and talk to you.

He winced again when you press the cotton like to his cut on the lip again and since he moved, his lips began bleeding again. He saw your brows furrowed and that made him smirk as he lick the blood, Jake saw how your white freckles glow a little bit and that assured him that you feel the same way, sighing he lean his body with the support of his hand that is place behind him, legs spreading making you sit in between

“What are you doing? I still need to patch you up” you look at him, oh how much you want to wipe that smug grin on his lips

“My bruises aren’t that serious, a little talk will heal them”

You can’t hold yourselt back and rolled your eyes with a huff you abruptly gather the ointments back on the bowl and was about to stand up when he grab your hand

“Can’t you just put that aside and just sit down with me?”

“You’re acting weird olo’ey—“

“Jake. Didn’t I made it clear that all people on this clan can just call me by my name”

You let out a sigh before putting the bowl aside and sat down again, this time his sitting properly but his legs is still spread out. Trying your best not to look down, you bit your tongue not too hard. Enough to keep your eyes on his face, you notice him eyeing you, his eyes went from your head down to your top, he reach out and let his fingers touch your upper garment making your breath hitch

“Want to know how I got this bruises?” He ask, retreating his hands and placing it on your lap

“It’s obviously from fighting”

“Yeah, fighting those skxawngs who bad mouthed you. You know… I like this top whenever you wear it”

Your brows arching up again, his actions are a bit off but you don’t know how to call it. You know only a little bit of the sky people, back where the current Olo’eyktan came from. His actions are always foreign to you

“Bad mouthing me?”

“Yes babygirl, you’re too pretty and kind to let those bastards take advantage of you”

Now his hand is on your cheeks, cupping it. You look at his hand and you can feel your heart beating fast. You look at his eyes and saw him looking at your way with so much adoration.

“Jake… are you…”

Mentally punching the air right now, Jake finally thanked Eywa that you have finally catch on what his motives are. Knowing that you are waiting for him, he always makes sure not to get that much bruise hoping to see the smile you always have when you see him without a bruise or the way you walk during some feasts, oh to knock out those men who looked at your way. He always wonder why you always dress pretty, thinking you were trying to impress someone. If not for the position his in, he would swoop you off of your feet and take to spots he knows you would love

“I have been eyeing you Y/N, you don’t know how much control to master up just so I won’t scare you away”

You gasp, hands over your mouth. His gaze that never cross yours, thinking his not interested in you. It was only the time that is playing because the moment you will peel your gaze off of him, he would stare at you like you meant the world to him.

Jake place both of his hands on your wait and move closer to you, his tail swaying behind him. He smiled and kiss your cheeks as he rest his forehead on yours.

“I see you, Y/N”

You couldn’t even move, as if you were glued to your position. Breaking into a sob you hug him then pulled away as you smile sweetly at him

“I see you, Jake”

———+———+>

The kiss you shared with him started off soft then turned into a passionate and fiery one, he got you sitting on his lap sideway, your legs spread open for him. His one hand cupping your breast underneath your beaded top. Your tongue dance with his as he fingered your cunt with a certain speed. He would only move away from your lips to give your left nipple a soft nibble then goes back kissing you

“ma Jake sl-slow down.. hng…”

You let out a breathy whine making you throw your head back when you felt him trail his lips down to your neck and graze it with his fangs. You heard him and nudge you to lay your head on his shoulder, as he use his thumb to play with your clit earning a moan from you.

With shaky hands you wrap one held on to his neck, your legs trembling as you can feel yourself coming. You burried your face on to his neck as you close your legs causing him to stop fingering you

“What’s wrong? I can always stop, yawne”

“No no… it’s just.. I’m shy to cum when you’re looking at me..”

You said and peek at him. He smiled and kiss your head as he pull out his fingers and your insides felt lonely without his fingers. He rub soothing circles on your stomach as he showere your face with kisses

“Don’t be. Tonight is the only start of us making love.”

You lick your lip and kiss the side of his lips as a sign he can continue, your breath went uneven again as you open your legs and his three fingers slide back inside with no trouble. You were practically a mess right now, your lips parted together as you chanted his name, groping your breast as you shuddered, as you came his fingers never stop fucking you. You found yourself squirting and when you were about moan loudly, he catches your lips and shove his tongue in.

Saliva dripping at the side of your lips as you grab on to his arm, he pulled away and you watch him take his fingers inside into his mouth. He made a pop sound the moment he took his fingers out

“On fours baby, I want to fuck you from behind”

You simply nodded as you got in fours, he practically tore your lower garment the moment he was behind you. You let out a moan when you felt his tongue slid inside you. The feeling of his large hands groping your ass, made you clench around his tongue earning a groan from him and it turned you on more

“Damn baby! Next time, sit on my face so I can eat you out”

Jake gave your ass a slap before removing his lower garment too and use some of your juices to rub on his cock. He lick his lips before slipping his cock in, he let out a sigh as his hands trail your spine and lightly tug on your tail, earning a yelp from you. He knew that his cock would fit just right for you. He slowly move his hand up and down on your tail and in seconds you were already begging for him to move, guess you really are sensitive on your tail

“ma Y/N even if you cum now I would still fuck you on every position I know”

“If you would stop rubbing my tail then I won’t! Please! Just please move Jake!”

He smirk and let go of your tail then place his hands on your ass cheeks and began to move. At first he started slow, observing you. You had your face down on the ground, hands not supporting you anymore. He then began moving faster and faster, spanking your ass time to time, you motion him to move down so you guys can kiss, on the process of coming down he trail his tongue on your spine then sliding it inside your mouth

His hand reach for your clit as he rub it, muffling your moan on the kisses as he move harder and faster. The squelching sound is so erotic it made you go crazy, him giving you double penetration is the last thing you want. He move away from the kiss and use his other hand to set your hair aside and bit down at the nape of your neck

“Fuck! Jake!”

He smirk and kiss the bite mark as he pulled you up by using your hands, both of his hands now on your breast, kneading it as his moves got sloppier

“Coming… I’m coming ma Y/N”

“Give it to me, ma Jake.. please!“

He let out a deep growl before releasing deep inside you, his practically groping your breast hard as he painted your insides white. You had to cover your mouth with your hands not wanting those whoever outside and passing by hear you moan.

The both of you collapsed on the ground with you laying on of him, you can hear his heart beating fast. Still connected you move and sat up, you let out a winced when you felt his cock throb, you look down at him and his already holding his braid, a smirk on his lips

“Looks like we forgot to bond, this calls for round 2, right my love?”

Oh Eywa, will you ever be sleeping today?

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Fourteen]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.6k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: This chapter will certainly leave you wanting more, I'll say that much. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky @the-nursery @lionalsowrites

Fingers flying across the keyboard of your laptop, you sat at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of hot coffee beside you. You’d woken up just before Megan had disappeared for her shift at the hospital and settled down to write shortly after. So far your day was wide open and there wasn’t much else for you to do but focus on your work. 

For the past couple of days that’s what you’d been doing–focusing on your writing. You had not managed to see Michael beyond the occasional fortuitous meeting at your bedroom windows. You hadn’t even run into him out in the back garden the few times you’d sat out there to work. Though he had sent you a few text messages on and off over the past two days. He’d repeatedly apologized for being so busy and promised that he still planned to make you dinner sometime this week as an apology for the situation with Amanda. 

You were aware that he was still dealing with the fallout from the shooting the previous week. You also knew he was still dealing with the bounties on his and his families’ heads while they struggled to continue to run their very illegal business. And now the Garda were permanently parked at the end of the street for twenty-four hour safety measures and you didn't need Michael to tell you that they were only further complicating matters for the Kinsellas. 

On top of all of that, you knew he had also mentioned that he had an appointment today for a CT scan to hopefully figure out what was going on with his sudden seizure episodes. Michael had told you that his brother was taking him to the appointment when he’d messaged you this morning. You’d been on edge ever since his text this though, waiting for him to message you back when he’d made it home safe afterwards. You had asked him to let you know because you’d been worried, even if you felt like an absolute idiot asking him to let you know when he’d gotten home safe. But you knew it was dangerous for any of them to be out of the house right now with the bounties on their heads–the memory of leaving the coffee shop with him the other day was still fresh in your mind. If you read between the lines of the few things Michael had told you, you’d easily gathered that they were all dead men walking.

But despite how hard you really did try not to let it bother you that you’d barely seen Michael the past few days, knowing he genuinely had a lot going on, you admittedly still missed him. You wished he’d just stop by, even for a few minutes, or that he’d invite you over for a short bit in the evening. Even just five minutes to see him–just to feel his arms around you–would have been enough for you. You had a feeling he could use the brief break from the stress of everything he had going on, and you certainly could use some comfort with how worried you'd been over the strange silence from Victor.

It didn’t help that you found yourself feeling lonely with your sister constantly off at the hospital for work. And while you tried to remind yourself that you had far more human connection here in Dublin over the past few weeks than you’d had in the couple of years that you’d been on the run, all that did was make things worse. Because you’d found yourself growing accustomed to not being alone since you’d been here. You’d found yourself looking forward to more than just the phone calls from Angela. But you knew that was dangerous because it meant you were growing attached–to this city and the people here–which would make needing to run in the future that much harder.

And all that alone time you'd had lately after Michael had apologized to you had also given you time to feel guilty. Guilty for knowing the personal things about him that you had dug up the other week when Birdy had been threatening you. You still hadn’t known how to bring it up to him, but you felt like you needed to tell him that you knew. Because it wasn’t right that you knew the reason he’d gone to prison or that you knew he had a daughter who you’d thought you’d seen the other day outside his house while Michael still had absolutely no idea. Though you were afraid to tell him considering just how personal the information was. You didn’t think he would take the news well. But the longer you kept it in, the worse you figured it would be.

With a sigh you glanced over at your coffee cup beside your laptop, feeling a headache coming on as your thoughts began to distract you from your writing. Picking up the mug, you drew it to your mouth for a long drink. Desperately you wished it would actually succeed at making you feel awake this morning. While you drank down the comforting liquid, movement out of the kitchen window just beside you caught your eye and you glanced up, spotting Birdy making her way up your sister’s driveway with what looked like the mail in her hand. 

Slowly you set the mug back down on the table, watching as Birdy sent you a friendly wave through the window. Your eyes narrowed as you noticed the strained smile on her face, watching as she neared the door. Frowning, you closed your laptop before rising from the kitchen chair, making your way out of the kitchen and over to the front door. Birdy had knocked mere moments before you unlocked it, swinging it open to reveal that tense expression on her face even more clearly.

“G’mornin’ dear,” Birdy greeted, raising her hand that had been holding the stack of your sister’s mail. “I think we need to have a little chat this mornin’.”

Your frown only deepened on your face at her words. What could she possibly need to chat with you about and why the hell was she snooping through Megan’s mail? Opening the door wider, you moved aside and watched as she stepped into the house. Closing the door behind her, entirely baffled as to what she was up to, you followed behind her as she made her way straight to the kitchen. 

Entering the kitchen yourself, you watched as Birdy tossed the few letters in her hand onto the kitchen island. She stalked around to the other side of it, her piercing blue eyes focused on you as she pulled her purse from her shoulder, setting it onto the countertop beside the stack of mail. Both of her hands came down to rest against the island, her eyes silently raking you over.

“Why are you going through my sister’s mail, Birdy?” you asked her, breaking the silence. “I’m guessing that’s still illegal here in Ireland, isn’t it?”

Birdy’s eyes only further narrowed at you in return. “That’s the least of my worries, dear. And truthfully the least of yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned her.

“Have ya even taken a look at what’s there, dear?” she asked, her head gesturing towards the pile of mail on the countertop.

“What? Why?” you asked. “I don’t get mail here, Birdy. No one even knows where I’m–”

You stopped mid-sentence when your focus shifted down towards the pile, the letter on the top of the stack immediately catching your eye. There was no postage on it. As if someone had slipped it in the letterbox themselves. But what was alarming was what was messily drawn on the envelope. In the corner of it there was a small, upside down crucifix with a serpent wrapped around it. You felt the blood immediately drain from your face, your entire body freezing on the spot as fear struck you like ice in your veins.

“What is that doing in with the mail?” you whispered, eyes glued to the symbol.

“That’s what I was curious ‘bout,” Birdy replied. “Y’see, I saw someone lingerin’ out front of your sister’s house quite early this mornin’. Dressed in a dark sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. Saw them slip what I’m presumin’ is that–” she continued, gesturing at the letter, “–into the letterbox with the post. I was curious.”

Panic shot through you at her words, your eyes going wide as you glanced up at Birdy. “I’m not–not with them, Birdy,” you told her quickly, shaking your head. “I wasn’t lying to you. I’m not helping them with anything.”

Birdy sent you an apologetic smile, her expression softening. “I know that, dear,” she told you gently. “What I’m concerned ‘bout is how they know you’re here and why they’re slippin’ ya letters.”

“I don’t know,” you breathed out, your attention returning to the letter. “I don’t know.”

Silence fell over the pair of you, your heart feeling like it was pounding away in your chest. You could feel a small tremble beginning in your hands. Anxiously you wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging your body tight as if that would help stop the shaking. You didn’t want to have a panic attack, not here in front of Birdy. 

“Aren’t ya goin’ to open it, Grace?” she asked. 

“What if–if it’s him?” you whispered, tears stinging at your eyes. “What if he’s found me already? Is just messing with me?”

“Well ya won’t know if ya don’ open it,” Birdy pointed out.

Nervously chewing the inside of your cheek, you hesitantly reached a hand out towards the kitchen island. Very slowly you slipped the letter off the top of the stack of mail, the shake in your hand entirely visible as you did. You could feel the weight of Birdy’s eyes on you as you brought the letter towards yourself, flipping it over and staring at the sealed back. 

You didn’t want to open this. You didn’t know what was inside, but there was no way it was anything good. On top of that, you didn’t know how someone from the Serpents had found you here at your sister’s place, but you didn’t like it. The knowledge made your skin crawl.

But Birdy was right. You wouldn’t know anything if you didn’t just open the damn letter.

With a sharp exhale, you slipped a finger underneath the seal, tearing it open easily. Holding your breath, you reached inside and pulled a small slip of paper from out of the envelope. As your eyes scanned it over, you weren’t surprised to see there was barely much written on it. You didn’t recognize the handwriting sloppily scrawled along it, either. 

For a minute you read the words over and over, your mind racing as that panicked feeling only further took hold of you. Your hands were shaking a little harder as the weight of the message settled on you, tears welling in your eyes and blurring the writing.

“Well,” Birdy prompted impatiently, “what’s it say?”

"They want me to meet with them," you answered quietly. "Tonight."

A dark look crossed Birdy’s face as she took a step towards you. "Who?" she asked.

You shrugged a shoulder, a tear spilling down your cheek. "I don't know," you replied, voice breaking. "The Serpent’s charter in Cork, I imagine."

Birdy’s shoulders squared, her expression darkening further. "Obviously ya aren't goin'," she stated.

"I don't have a choice," you whispered back.

“O’course ya have a choice,” she said firmly.

You shook your head, holding the paper out towards her. Birdy reached out, quickly grabbing the slip of paper from your hand. You watched quietly as her eyes darted across the page rapidly, and then you watched as she reread the words a few times herself. Once again your arms wrapped around yourself, your entire body slowly beginning to shake.

"They know who I am," you whispered. "If I don't go, they're going to tell Victor that I'm–I'm here. And I can't have that." Your fingers clutched at the sweater you were wearing, clinging desperately to the fabric like it was a lifeline. "My only options are to meet them or to run, Birdy.”

Her eyes looked up from the letter in her hand, that piercing stare of hers landing on you. 

“Ya have more options than that, love,” she pointed out.

“No,” you disagreed, shaking your head. “I can’t ask any of you to help me with this. I won’t ,” you stated. “Besides, it’s not safe for any of you to help. It’s not safe for Michael to help. Eamon wants him dead, right? He can’t be out traveling to Cork dealing with the Serpents or showing up with me to that meeting. He’d be a dead man and you know that.”

“So what? Ya are just goin’ to run?” Birdy questioned.

Your gaze dropped down to the island countertop, your lips pressing firmly together as you thought. Admittedly your first instinct was screaming at you to do exactly that. To get out of here while you were still breathing. Every warning bell was going off in your head right now. That meeting screamed danger. Them knowing who and where you were screamed danger. But that was what made running now an impossible choice, one you couldn’t do.

“If I run,” you began slowly, staring at the countertop as another tear slipped down your cheek, “they'll most likely tell Victor I was here. And he’ll be led straight to this very house. To my–my sister ." You shook your head firmly, eyes flying up and holding Birdy’s stare. "And I can't have that, Birdy."

Across from the kitchen island, you watched as Birdy sighed in resignation. A second later her head tilted to the side, eyeing you for a moment longer in silence.

“So you’ve decided then, have ya?” she asked. “Made up your mind to go?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you replied. “There’s really only one option I have.”

“Well then,” she continued, her attention shifting down to her purse.

You watched in silence as she unsnapped the bag, both of her hands reaching inside. Brows drawing together in confusion, you watched as her hands pulled something wrapped in what looked like a scarf out of her bag. She cradled it gently in her palms as she gingerly lowered it to the countertop. Gradually she pulled the dark material back, and your eyebrows shot up high onto your forehead at the sight of a gun. 

Birdy’s eyes slowly shifted back up towards yours. There was a small, almost dangerous smile on her lips. 

“I told ya I’d get ya a gun, Grace,” she said. “And I figured if there was someone spyin’ on your house like that, ya could use one now rather than later. But if ya are goin’ to meet the bastards head on, ya might want a little protection of your own, dear. Ya said ya know how to use one, yeah?”

Swallowing hard, your eyes still glued to the gun, you nodded. Your heart was thudding even harder in your chest at the sight of it just lying there on the kitchen island. You certainly knew how to use one, but having the ability to use it on someone–to use it with the intention to kill–was another story.

Birdy slowly slid the gun towards you along the counter, your pulse jumping when it was sitting innocently there just in front of you. Fingers digging into your skin through your sweater with how tight you were hugging your arms around yourself, your eyes remained fixed on the weapon.

“Ya should bring it with ya tonight,” Birdy told you. “And ya should let me set it up with Dotser to bring ya to this meetin’. Ya shouldn’ go alone.”

Shaking your head quickly, your attention returned back to her. “No, Birdy. You read the note. It said to come alone,” you replied. “I can’t show up with anyone. They won’t be fucking around, whatever it is they want. And if one of your men are with me, it might just cause more trouble for your family. So no.”

Birdy’s eyes narrowed back at you, her arms slowly crossing themselves over her chest. “Fine,” she conceded after a moment. “He won’t come with ya to the meetin’, but he’ll bring ya and bring ya back home after. Ya need a safe way there and back, anyway. I’ll have him pick ya up a couple o’ blocks from here and drop ya off near the meetin’ place.” She leaned forward towards you, her body language meant to be intimidating. “And ‘no’ isn’t an option here, dear.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you eyed her for a long moment. She ultimately had a point. You weren’t about to walk or take a taxi all the way out to meet whoever it was that had dropped that letter in your sister’s letterbox, and it’s not like you had a car and a driver’s license in Ireland, either. Your options were quite limited.

“Fine,” you relented. 

“Good,” she replied. “And when Dotser drops ya off home after, I want ya to meet with Frank and I back at my house before ya head on home. If there’s trouble on our doorstep, I think we ought to know ‘bout it.”

“Alright,” you agreed slowly.

“And I think it goes without sayin’, love, but ya shouldn’ mention a thing to Mikey ‘bout any o’ this,” Birdy warned you. “‘Bout the gun I gave ya or this meetin’ tonight. No doubt he’d be rushin’ in guns blazin’ and puttin’ himself in a heap o’ danger if he knew. And like ya said, it isn’ safe for him to be out.”

Your stomach knotted uncomfortably at her words. Just more lies and secrets to keep from him. You didn’t like it, but she had a point. With the way he came rushing over to your sister’s house, from her retelling of the night you’d gotten drunk and she’d found you a bloody mess in the bathroom, you knew Michael would refuse to let you go to that meeting. You also had a strong feeling he’d go in your stead, probably making threats that would only end up getting him shot.

“I won’t tell him,” you promised her quietly. “You’re right. He’d only throw himself in harm’s way without a second thought to himself. And it’s not safe for him to go–to the meeting or out in general. So I won’t tell him. Because I won’t have him dying for me.” 

A slow smile gradually drew itself across Birdy’s lips as she stared back at you. The look of something like pride was clear on her face. Her expression only confused you until she’d spoken again.

“I like ya, Grace,” she admitted. “You’re a strong one. Smart, too. You truly make quite the match for my Michael.”

If you weren’t so struck by fear about how your evening was about to play out later, you might’ve felt something more at her words. But as of the moment, you were currently struggling to keep yourself together. Because you were terrified about this meeting tonight, unsure what was to come of it. You didn’t know anyone from the charter in Cork so you didn’t know what to expect, and you certainly didn’t have a clue about why they’d wanted to meet you instead of just telling Victor you were here. What could they possibly want?

Across from the kitchen island, Birdy closed her purse back up before slipping the strap of it over her shoulder. She made her way around the counter, stopping just before you. Both of her hands came out, landing on your shoulders and giving them a reassuring squeeze as she held your gaze.

“You’ll be alrigh’, dear,” she promised you. “Don’t let them see your fear. And bring the gun. Don’t be afraid to use it if ya have to. We’ll figure it all out after if ya do end up needin’ it.”

Mouth feeling like it had long gone dry, you nodded in response. You didn’t know what to even say to that. With the approving smile still on her face, she squeezed your shoulders firmly before she released them, turning and making her way out of the kitchen to leave.

“I’ll text ya the details for Dotser to drive ya later,” she called back to you. “And make sure ya come and see Frank and I afterwards, dear. I’m sure there’ll be some things for us to discuss.”

You stood there rooted to the kitchen, your eyes following her retreating form until it disappeared down the hallway. A moment later you heard the front door open and close before your focus slid over to the kitchen window, watching as Birdy made her way down the driveway. When she reached the end of it and turned past the stone fence, your eyes slowly dropped down to the gun still lying on the dark blue scarf.

Your hands were stuffed into the pockets of your green parka as you made your way down your sister’s driveway. Her shift at the hospital would be finishing soon so you’d sent her a text a little bit ago, not wanting her to wonder where you’d gone when she arrived back home. Of course you lied and told her you were going to a coffee shop that was open late, suddenly struck with some writing inspiration that needed the ‘right vibe.’ You figured she’d buy the bullshit line well enough not to question it.

In actuality, you were on your way down the street and then over two more blocks to meet Dotser before he took you to meet the Serpent who’d left you that note. According to the brief bit of information Birdy had given you about Dotser, he worked for the Kinsellas’ and was quite personally trusted by Frank himself–who you were incredibly nervous about meeting later tonight after this meeting. 

Assuming you survived it, of course. 

As you reached the end of the driveway, you turned left. Jaw clenching tight, you became very aware of the cool metal of the gun in your parka pocket as your eyes landed on the Garda car at the end of the street. It certainly wouldn’t be good for you if they stopped you and found a gun in your jacket. 

You continued on, trying hard to act casual, but you’d barely made it halfway past Michael’s driveway before you heard him call out to you. Instantly your heart flew up into your throat, surprise washing over you. Head whipping in the direction of his voice, you saw he’d been unlocking his front door before spotting you. He’d turned around and was heading towards you now, a tired smile drawing itself across his mouth. Stopping in your tracks as your heart hammered nervously away in your chest, you smiled back at him.

You’d been missing him over the last few days, desperate for a few minutes in person with him, but right now you’d wished you’d ran into anyone else but him. You were terrified he might see through you or that you might accidentally give something away. Because you were certain if Michael had any inkling about what was going on, he’d be rushing down to that meeting armed himself.

“What’re ya doin’ out so late?” he asked as he neared you.

“I–I was just going on a bit of a walk,” you answered awkwardly, hands curling into fists in your parka pockets. “Just needed a little air, you know?”

Michael’s smile widened a little further. “Would ya like some company? I haven’ seen ya in a bit,” he replied.

“Oh, uh, well I was actually hoping to sort of…think about some plot things? For my book?” you said, grasping at the first lie that came to your mind. Your heart twisted in your chest at the sight of his smile slipping. “I mean, normally I’d love you to come with, especially because it has been a few days since we’ve really seen each other,” you continued in a rush. “But I–I have Angela on my ass about a deadline and I just got hit with writer’s block. I’m desperate to try anything to give me some ideas so I figured a walk might help. And you–you really shouldn’t be out of your house. It’s not safe.”

Michael nodded slowly, his expression still looking a little downcast as he did. “I understand, though I don’t think ya should be walkin’ around by yourself right now, either,” he told you.

“Well I won’t be out walking long,” you replied–which wasn’t exactly a lie.

He nodded, a small smile making its way back onto his face as he focused on you. Gradually the disappointment of your rejection to his company slipped from his expression and he stepped closer, closing the space between the pair of you. His hand reached up to push some hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering along your temple as the rough pads of them affectionately brushed your skin. For a moment you almost forgot about what you were about to do with the way he was staring back at you, your pulse increasing for a reason besides fear for the first time today.

“I missed ya, pet,” he murmured. “Been a shite couple o’ days without ya.”

“I know what you mean,” you whispered back.

He lowered his forehead to yours, his eyes creased at the corners as his warm palm cupped your cheek. You leant into his touch, closing your eyes and wishing you could just stay here with him. Maybe turn around and head back into his house with him. Throw everything that you’d been hiding from him out on the table and hopefully get past it. Maybe spend the evening together.

But you couldn’t do that. Not tonight.

Inhaling a deep breath, you knew you needed to go before you were late to this meeting. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you were. But before you could get a single word out, Michael’s mouth cut you off.

His lips caught yours so softly, his mouth moving tenderly against yours. His hand was still carefully cradling your cheek while the other was resting lightly on your hip. But while he was kissing you so sweetly, your own hands were flying out of your pockets and wrapping around his neck, pulling yourself flush to the front of him. Desperately you wished you could cling to him and the safety he radiated. You hoped some of his strength would somehow transfer to you as you deepened the kiss, your mouth moving in any way but soft against his.

Michael quickly responded in kind, his own mouth moving hungrily before you felt his tongue sliding along your bottom lip. Your fingers were digging into the back of his neck as you kissed him hard, and in return, Michael’s grip on you became a little rougher. But the moment his hand slipped a bit farther down your hip, nearing the gun in your pocket, you instantly pulled away from him.

He was left standing there at the edge of his dimly lit driveway looking confused. You sent him a sheepish smile, running a hand over your forehead.

“Sorry,” you muttered, trying to catch your breath. “I uh, I got a little carried away. I should probably get started on that walk before it gets too late.”

“Right,” he agreed slowly, his dark eyes carefully studying you. 

You cleared your throat, stuffing your hands back into your coat pockets. The fingers of your right hand brushed the cold metal of the gun immediately and your back stiffened. 

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him, backing up from him.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes gradually narrowing. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Grace.”

Shooting him a tense smile, you abruptly turned and ducked your head, walking fast down the street. You just wanted to make it through the rest of this night already. Hopefully tomorrow you could talk to Michael.

[quietblueriver]

Brief dip into the NCIS: Hawaii space because my brain couldn't let go of the sibling dynamic between Jane and Kate. So here's 3k-ish words of them being kind to each other in the way they both need and deserve.

In which Kate worries that she's going to mess things up with Lucy, and Jane's there to remind her that she's loved (and also to feed her).

Read below or on AO3.

-

The bowl Jane hands her is warm and smells of bacon, obvious and unexpected enough that Kate immediately raises her eyebrows, finding Jane’s eyes across the sofa on the lanai. 

The grin she gets in return is one that’s becoming more familiar, mischievous and a little cheeky, notes of Noah that make her shoulders relax and her chest contract enough to require a conscious deep breath. 

“A little indulgence for us. Organic, locally-raised, and absolutely delicious.” 

Julie’s at art camp, and Alex is enduring Plebe Summer, so their bi-weekly beach morning has become a Monday, Wednesday, Friday affair this week. Kate’s not complaining. Her early mornings with Jane, the changes in her relationship with Jane generally, are a gift of Lucy’s absence, and one she intends to keep even now that Lucy's back. 

“I won’t tell,” Kate promises, and presses her spoon into the soft-boiled egg, yellow spilling out over sautéed spinach and furikake and the fancy bacon. There’s a short glass of green smoothie on the table, too, and Kate will drink it because she should and because, despite Lucy’s incredulity, she does, in fact, like the taste, but she’s going to enjoy the perfectly cooked oatmeal first. 

Jane reaches across to the table, sliding Kate’s favorite of the three hot sauces her way, and Kate picks it up with a smile, adds two generous shakes of red to her bowl. 

“So,” Jane says, her bowl resting on its placemat while she holds her favorite blue and green ceramic coffee mug on her knee, legs curled up on the sofa, “What’s the book of the week?”

Kate, swallowing her first bite and the embarrassing noise of pleasure that threatens to emerge with it, stares down at her bowl for a second. “Nothing new this week.” She gathers another bite, taking the time to get a balance of things on her spoon, and adds, “This is amazing, by the way. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Jane says, but when Kate looks up, one eyebrow is raised and her lips are pursed in that way that lets Kate know she’s been caught. Having former CIA operatives as friends has its downsides. 

Jane doesn’t push, trades her coffee for her oatmeal and busies herself with her own preferred hot sauce, waits Kate out. She doesn’t have to wait long. 

“I haven’t had much time to read,” she blurts, body jolting forward just a little with the words. She feels awkward, which isn’t exactly unusual, but this is the kind of awkwardness she associates with her junior year of high school, trying to navigate her growth spurt and her parents’ pressure and her increasingly undeniable homosexuality. 

“Oh?” 

Jane’s tone is curious but she leaves Kate an out, almost always leaves Kate an out, and it’s another thing that makes Kate think of Noah, of the way he’d run basketball drills with her, knew instinctively when to be silent and when to give feedback and when to ask questions about her life without making her feel like she owed him an answer, never making her feel pressure to give more than she wanted to give. 

She breathes out through another ache in her chest, forces herself to lean back and lets her body mirror Jane’s, pulling her legs up and making herself smaller, resting her bowl on her knee. Jane’s smile is gentle and Kate knows she doesn’t begrudge her the protection. 

“I’ve…I’ve been a bit distracted. With Lucy.”

“ Oh ,” Jane says again, but this time she seems surprised, her lips shifting to almost…almost a smirk? 

It takes Kate a second and then she feels heat flood her face. “Not like that,” she corrects with only a little bit too much force, and Jane reaches across to touch her leg briefly before focusing on her oatmeal and letting Kate recover. 

She breathes out and sits her bowl on the table, wonders if this is something she really wants to talk about, something she really should talk about, with Jane who reminds her of her big brother but who is also her boss and her girlfriend’s boss and someone she wants very much to respect her. 

But she has spent many mornings and many nights on this lanai with Jane at this point, has told her more about her life than almost anyone, really, and Jane has told her things, too. Early on they’d had a conversation, because they are alike in ways that Kate appreciates more than she can say, about boundaries and professionalism and friendship. Kate knows Jane would tell her immediately if she was crossing a line, understands that she respects Kate enough to do that quickly and clearly. She’s confident Jane knows the same. 

It’s this that convinces her, and she breathes quickly from her nose before bringing her eyes back to Jane, who is waiting patiently and quietly. 

“I’m worried that I’m going to fuck it up.”

Jane’s already soft posture softens further, her arm reaching across the back of the sofa toward Kate in a show of support that doesn’t force Kate to process physical contact. It’s conscious, in the way that basically everything Jane Tennant does is conscious, but that does not make it less impactful. It’s a show of care tailored to Kate, and she feels it in the way her calves relax. There are perks to former CIA operative friends as well. 

Jane waits, and Kate bites her bottom lip, begins talking again at the small, encouraging tilt of Jane’s chin. 

“Things are so good. Lucy is so good. She’s,” Kate bites her lip again, pushes back the little voice that tells her this is dangerous, wrong, unprofessional, queer , “she’s perfect. I’m so happy. So lucky.” 

Jane’s smiling at her again, and she nods as Kate pauses, waits until it’s clear that Kate might need a second, and then says, “I’m so happy for you both. We all are. You know that, right? That we love you both?” 

She does. Despite the insidious little whispers that warn her otherwise, she knows that the NCIS team is family, is her family, and that they love her not just because she loves Lucy but because of who she is on her own. 

“I do.”

“Good,” Jane says, patting the top of Kate’s hand where she’s subconsciously stretched it in a mirror of Jane’s. The touch only lasts for a second, just long enough to be more comfort than distraction, and Kate feels her lips twitch into a half and then a full smile of gratitude. “So what’s scaring you?”

They know each other well enough now that she doesn’t push back at the phrasing, reads it as Jane’s confidence in her ability to see the words not as an insult but an insight, and one that’s exactly right. 

“Me,” she says without hesitation. “I’ve never done this before, not in a way that matters, and I…” She clears her throat. “My parents’ relationship…” There’s no way for it to sound anything but harsh, but it’s true, and she doesn’t need to politic this. “It was about appearance and expediency. My brother, he was…he was kind and, and softer than either of them. He was tough, too.” Jane nods in understanding, and Kate pushes past the desire to defend him against an attack Jane would never level. “But he…Discipline and our grandfather’s chin were about the only things that made it clear we were raised in the same house. I never quite understood how he was who he was while I was…anything but myself.” 

She regrets having put her bowl down, picks it back up and takes another bite. Puts it down again. 

“I’m a lot like my father. He didn’t always…he wasn’t very good at emotions. At understanding emotions. His own or anyone else’s. I once heard his colleagues talking about him. They called him Doctor Robot, which was…well, it wasn’t wrong.” 

She stops there, eyes on the cushion between them and Jane says softly, kindly, “You’re not a robot, Kate.”

“No,” she concedes, fingers flexing against the fabric of her leggings. “But I know what people think of me. I know I can appear…unyielding. Detached.” She raises her eyes and smiles to soften the blow. “Icy.”

Jane smiles back, the smile she uses with Julie and Alex, and Kate feels a swoop of affection in her stomach. “We didn’t know you.”

“I didn’t let you.”

“There’s a reason for that. We should have been kinder.”

“You’re kinder now.”

Jane hums and pointedly eyes Kate’s oatmeal and Kate rolls her eyes just enough for Jane to see, a little sister again. Still, she picks it back up, takes another bite. 

“I’ve got Lucy.”

“You do. You’ve got all of us. I’m sorry it took as long as it did.” She holds a hand up when Kate begins to protest and it’s effective and doesn’t grate the way it would with nearly anyone else. “But Kate, being reserved doesn’t make you emotionally incompetent.” She leans forward just enough for Kate to notice, her arm inching closer along the back of the couch. “Thinking differently doesn’t either. And protecting yourself, having lived a life where you needed to protect yourself, doesn’t make you a bitch.” The word hits her with some force, and she’s blinking back tears, because she hadn’t said it, wouldn’t have said it, but she’d thought it plenty. Jane reaches across to the table and slides the tissues to her without comment before she continues. “Give yourself some credit. I love Lucy, and it’s easy to see the way that she loves you. But you’re the one who has let yourself be vulnerable here. That’s no small thing.” 

The tiny scoff is reflexive, and her voice is raspier than she’d like as she says, “I shouldn’t have to work so hard to be a person. I certainly shouldn’t be praised for it.” 

“Mmm.” Jane’s fingers tap along the cushion near Kate’s. “You know, there were years when Julie and Alex didn’t know me.” 

Kate’s eyes snap from the tapping fingers to Jane’s face. She’s smiling still, easy, but her eyes have the same weight they do when a case gets particularly brutal or she’s telling a story about her past. 

“I spent years learning how to read people, how to control myself, how to be exactly how I needed to be, who I needed to be, in any given situation. For a long time, that’s how I approached being a mother.” She tilts her head to the side for a moment, and shrugs one shoulder. “I didn’t have an example of what a mother should be, and I felt…confident, playing it like a role. Soft here, proud there, body language and tone exactly what they should be.” She pauses to grab her mug, takes a sip. 

“There are much less thoughtful ways to be a mom,” Kate says, and means it, wishes that her own mother had given an ounce of that effort, even if she had been faking it. 

Jane huffs a laugh. “That’s true. And I was a good mom. I cared for them and comforted them. They knew they were loved, and I thought that was good enough.

“But one day, in third grade, Alex came home with one of those “My mother is…” projects. He’d reached the age where it was more than just “favorite flower” and “favorite color” and insert this or that here. They were learning about paragraphs and themes and he was supposed to write about me, about who I was.” She smiles, rueful, and runs a thumb along the rim of her mug. “He had this list of questions, and about halfway through, I realized I was answering him the same way I would anyone on an assignment, charming and just personal enough to seem true. I’d known what I was doing, of course, but this hit me differently, because I understood in a way I hadn’t before that he was my son and he was asking me real questions, was old enough to ask me real questions, and I was treating him like…”

“Jane,” Kate says, and she’s reaching across now, fingertips on offer near Jane’s knee. Jane takes them and squeezes for a second before letting them go. 

“It scared me so badly that I had to forcibly stop my body from shaking. When we finished, I took the hottest shower I could stand and cried harder than I had in a long time. I’d always loved them. More than anything. But I made a conscious effort after that to be different. To be myself . It took more work than I’d like to admit.” 

The look she’s giving Kate is so understanding, so familiar, so full of care. Kate dips her head in acknowledgement and feels the kind of deep affection she’s come to associate with exactly two people in her life.  

“It was instinct.” 

“It was instinct,” Jane confirms. “It was safe .” She takes another sip. “I’m proud of the work I did to let my kids see me. To be vulnerable. To be human .” She squeezes Kate’s fingers again. “It isn’t easy.” 

“It isn’t,” Kate says, horrified to find that her voice is raspy again. A million questions and fears overwhelm her, the same ones that have kept her staring at the same few pages of her book for the last week. What if I can’t keep it up? What if I’m like my dad? What if she wants me to be someone else? What if I have to be someone else to keep her? 

“She loves you,” Jane’s voice cuts through the thoughts like a knife. “She loves you for who you are, Kate. Not in spite of it. And if you’re worried, you can talk to her about it.” She’s running her thumb over Kate’s knuckles. “I can guarantee you she wants to know as much as you want to share. So do I.” She squeezes Kate’s fingers before letting go and settling back against the sofa. Her voice is lighter as she adds, “But it’s a little different.”  

“I want you to know.” The force of her voice surprises her, and she clears her throat and tries again, not quite meeting Jane’s eyes. “I mean thank you. For listening. And for being the kind of friend who makes me feel comfortable enough to talk.” 

“Thank you for talking to me. I feel honored that you feel comfortable enough to share. You’re a remarkable person, Kate. I’m lucky to know you.” 

It’s almost too much, her body caught on the precipice of emotional overload, and Jane, because she’s Jane, can tell, stands and squeezes Kate’s shoulder before moving toward the door. “I’m going for more coffee. Don’t waste that bacon, please.” 

“Honor the pig,” Kate says solemnly, and they both ignore the little shake in her voice.

“Honor the pig,” Jane echoes. 

They both mean it more than a little, because Julie has passionately given them talks about the environment and the feelings and intelligence of animals, especially pigs, and she’s a very convincing oralist. Kate has told her more than once that she’d do well in law school. 

The rest of their breakfast conversation is lighter, Kate recounting some reality tv drama and Jane offering a new salmon recipe she’d found. Before she leaves, though, Kate grabs one of Jane’s wrists. 

“Thank you.” She looks at Jane’s feet, toes peeking out from her house shoes, before forcing herself to look her in the face again. “I feel lucky to know you, too.” She wants to say the words, feels them caught in her throat, and Jane’s smile, her quiet patience, sets them free. “You remind me of Noah, and I…Well, I…” She shakes her head and shrugs and Jane’s looking at her the same way she had on the porch, so clearly fond that Kate can hardly take it, can almost feel Noah in the room with them. “Thank you,” she says, hoping it’s enough, and the brief squeeze to her bicep, the fleeting kiss to her cheek, make her think that it is. 

“Anytime.” She reaches for a thermos and hands it to Kate. “Your smoothie.” 

“Oh! Thank you!” 

“You are the only one in my house who gets that excited for my green smoothie.” 

“I shouldn’t be. It’s so much better than the one from Aloha.” 

“Flatterer.” She gestures toward the door. “I’ve kept you too long.” 

Kate doesn’t argue, although she wants to, because they both know it’s Kate’s fault she’s running late. Instead she gathers her bag and the smoothie and slips her sandals on before heading out the door. She dials Lucy’s number from the car, smiling at the drowsy greeting that confirms that she had, in fact, snoozed her alarm again, and thinks maybe she’ll actually be able to finish her book tonight.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Yours Submissively ~ Commitment

Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis

Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.

And she has no idea.

Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)

A/N: the taglist is open!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Banners by me!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Preparations

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Belle was nervous.  

Why wouldn’t she be? 

Here she was, back at the same club that set off a chain of events three months ago that changed her life.  Why on earth did she let MJ and Hope convince everyone else that this was good idea? 

She sat nervously in the booth, glass of champagne in hand, wearing a ridiculous crown and sash while the rest of her party was dancing.  She looked at her phone and sent a message 

B: Why did you let them do this to me.   S: not having fun?  B: not really  B: no strippers right?  S: I asked them not to sweet pea  B: I wish I was home with you  S: Me too  B: less than two weeks  S: And you’ll be mine  B: I’m already yours  S: But I get to tell the whole world  B: I love you  S: I love you.  Try and have fun 

Belle sighed and put her phone down.  She decided to go to the bar to get a drink away from her group.  She just needed a moment to herself.  As she waited, a body stood next to her to order.  “Gorgeous?” 

She turned to look at the man who spoke.  She squeaked in surprise. “Paul?” 

“It is you! Wow!” Paul Diskant stood next to her like a dream.  She swallowed when he took her in and zeroed in on her hand.  “This explains a lot,” as he took her hand, her ring sparkling.  

“It’s not… that didn’t happen until after,” she tried to explain, pulling her hand away.  

“No need to explain Belle.  I read the papers.”  Paul took a swallow of his beer.  

“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip.  “I’m sorry.  About that night.”  

“What’s to be sorry for.  You danced with me, and I made a move, you ran away.  Obviously, there was something else going on.  Why did you run?” 

“Because he was there that night.  Told him to fuck off but instead he proposed.” She looked at Paul with a shrug and a smile.  “I love him.”  

Paul smiled.  “That much I gathered.  So why are you out?” 

“Bachelorette party.  It was a surprise.” She frowned.  “I thought you were back in Los Angeles?” 

“I got the job in New York.  I actually work for your husband’s security team but it’s my night off, so I came out with some of the guys I met.”  He nodded towards a group of men who were hitting on some other woman.  

“Ah, well, I’ll let you get back to them.  It was nice to see you again Paul.”  

“The same Belle.  You’re still as gorgeous as I remember.  Rogers is a very lucky man.”  He gave her a kiss on her knuckles and walked away. Belle returned to her table just as shots were being served. 

The next morning, Belle woke up with her head pounding, Steve flat out next to her.  She sighed when she took in his boyish looks as he slept.  She got up and headed to the bathroom and then the kitchen to start a pot of coffee for herself and Steve and Bucky.  She was scrolling through her social media, sipping her coffee when she sputtered.  

Clear as day was a photo of herself and Paul at the club last night.  “Oh shit.” She read the highlights of the article.  That she was there for her bachelorette and that a handsome man made a pass.  No idea how the couple left it.  

“Well, that’s interesting,” a voice behind her said.  

Belle jumped and dropped her mug which Steve swiftly caught. “Oh my god, Steve, I can explain.”  

Steve gave her an amused smile. “No explanation necessary love.  Breakfast?” 

Belle eyed him.  “Why are you so calm?  Last time I was out, you wanted to murder him.”  

“Isabella,” Steve sighed, “do you remember what happened when you came home last night?” 

Belle frowned as she tried to remember.  When she couldn’t she looked at Steve who chuckled.  “You were a little more drunk than you think you realized.  I picked you up from the club and you stayed in my lap, making out with me.  As I carried you in, you told me, and I quote, 'I saw Paul and I remembered why I love you so much.  He’s like a hamburger and you’re like steak.' It was amusing.  Especially when you decided to ride me.”  

“I what?” 

“Yeah, see I tried to put you to bed but you attacked me with your beautiful lips and I was putty in your hands.”  

Belle hid her face in her hands.  “Oh god.  Steve, I’m…” 

“Don’t be sorry my love.  It’s my job as your husband to satisfy you in any way that I can.  You needed a release and I’m happy it’s me you decided to do that with.  I love you.”  He leaned over to kiss her softly.  

“I love you,” she replied as soon as he let go of the kiss. “Did you know he’s working for you?” 

“Yes.  Bucky brought me all the profiles and I saw his.  Recognized him from that night.”  He sipped his coffee slowly. 

“And you’re ok?” 

“I am.  Keep your enemies close and all that.” Steve gave Belle a smirk as she frowned.  “Relax love.  He is part of our security detail.  If he was truly a problem, I would terminate him on the spot.” 

The next 12 days flew by, and Belle found herself at the Plaza hotel with her bridal party preparing for her last night as Belle Davis. The girls lounged around in matching pajamas completing every cliché thing for Belle.  

“Are you nervous?” Pepper asked.  

“About being in front of two hundred people of which I don’t know about 90 percent of them, or getting married?  Because the answer is yes.” 

“You don’t want to marry Steve?” MJ asked shocked.  

“No, it’s not that.  It’s just… I don’t know how my dad would feel about this or how my other parents…” Belle took a big gulp of her drink.  “I just wish I knew how he felt about me marrying his hero.”  

“He’d be proud,” Nat quipped. Belle looked at the red head.  “Belle, after everything you’ve been through and finding love in this crazy city, he would be proud. At least, that’s what I think.  But knowing you, the way you handle yourself with Steve and Bucky for that matter, you can take on the world.”  

“And,” Pepper started, “being the wife of a mogul is hard but I will be there for you every step of the way.”  

“Plus, you have your best friends,” MJ said, “to help when we can.”  

“Thank you, ladies,” Belle said as she brushed away a tear. They broke for bed and Belle laid down, knowing she needed rest.  But, when you have become accustomed to sleeping next to someone, it takes a while.  She pulled out her phone 

B: Hi  S: you ok?  B: who ever came up with the tradition to separate the bride and groom should be shot.  S: you can’t sleep either  B: Nope.  I’m cold.   S: And I’m too warm.   S: A sign that we are meant to be  B: You ready?  S: I’ve been ready. I love you  B: I love you.  

It’s what she needed.  Reassurance that he was on the same page as herself.  She looked at the photo of her father that she brought with her.  “I miss you daddy.”  

Morning came and with a flurry of activity.  The wedding was scheduled for two in the afternoon, but it didn’t stop Belle from being busy as soon as she woke.  

Steve sat in his office, reading emails and getting updates on the church and the venue.  Bucky came in with a glass.  “Here punk.”  

“Thanks Jerk,” he mumbled taking the glass but not looking away.  

“Steve. Steve!” He finally looked up.  “What are you doing?” 

“I’m… I’m… I don’t know.”  Bucky could see if was pale and a little clammy.  

“Ok punk.  Ok,” he came over and sat in front of him.  “What’s going on?” 

“What if I am ruining her life?  What if she dies because she’s my wife?  Phil, would he want me to marry her? I couldn’t save him and now I’m putting his daughter in danger…” 

“Whoa, slow down Steve, take a breath.” Bucky grabbed the glass of water and shoved it into his friend’s hands. “Drink,” he ordered. “Listen, I have a couple of questions.”  Steve nodded.  “Do you love her?” 

“More than anything.”  

“Ok, do you think you have done everything you possibly can to protect her?” 

“I think so.”  

Bucky smiled fondly at his best friend.  “Then Rogers, buck up because you have to get ready to marry the girl of your dreams.”  

Steve looked up at his friend.  “She isn’t Peggy, right? She wouldn’t leave me there like she did, right?” 

And right then, Bucky understood.   

Italy 1944  “Can’t believe we’re doing this,” Steve said straightening his tie.    “You sure you want to punk? Its only been a few weeks.”   “We could die tomorrow Bucky.  I don’t wanna wait anymore.”     Steve arrived at the steps of the chapel.  There was a man waiting there.  “I’m sorry Captain but Agent Carter was called away.  She asked me to give you this.”  And handed him a note.   Sorry Steve, we’ll take care of it soon. P   “Well shit.  Ok, I guess I’ll have to wait.”   And wait he did.  After Bucky fell off the train and was presumed dead, he wasn’t in the mindset to get married. Then after a couple of weeks, he asked again but Peggy said now she wasn’t ready.  What he didn’t know yet was that she had resumed an affair with Daniel Sousa.  Until he walked in on them just before the battle in Austria with HYDRA.  Her kiss before he jumped onto the Valkyrie was a request for forgiveness.  Crashing the Valkyrie felt like the only way out, but he didn’t admit it to anyone.  Except Bucky.  

“No pal.  She’s not her.  Belle loves your punk ass for some reason.  And after everything she has gone through and put up with, I know this to be true.”  

“Thank you, Buck.  Really.”  Steve drained the tumbler of liquor and got up.  “Let’s get ready.”  

St. Agnes Church in Brooklyn was nostalgia for so many reasons.  Its where Sarah Rogers baptized her son and where they attended until the day she died. So, when Steve brought Belle to see if this would work for their wedding, she immediately said yes.  Steve stood in the entry way, greeting guests as they arrived, his groomsmen escorting people to their seats. Steve had chosen not to wear his army uniform, electing a black tux with a gold waist coat and tie.  His groomsmen were in the same except for a dark navy waistcoat and tie.  He just finished shaking hands with the mayor when a familiar face came into view and his mood darkened.  “What are you doing here?” 

“I figured I could apologize and watch.”  Sharon Carter shrugged her shoulder as she stopped with her date.  

“I didn’t invite you.”   

“Oh, I know.  He did.”  She pointed to the man with her. Steve remembered him as an accounting executive.  “Mr. Anderson.”  

“Mr. Rogers, thank you for the invitation.”  

“Of course.  Such a loyal employee, how could I not. You’ve been with me since the beginning, correct?” 

“Yes, sir.”  

“Loyalty is such an amazing quality to have.  I hope that you will continue to be loyal to me and the company.” Steve shook the man’s hand, squeezing subtly.  

“Of course, sir.” Anderson could read the message.  Everyone knew that Sharon had a thing for Steve.  Now he understood he was tricked into bringing her.  Well, nothing was going to interfere with the wedding on his watch.  Not if he wanted to keep his job. “Come along Sharon.”  He pulled the woman away.  

Steve smirked, knowing that Anderson understood the message.  The church was almost full, and a limo pulled up revealing the bridesmaids.  Nat came up to Sam with a kiss before reaching over and adjusted Steve’s tie.  “She’s right behind us so you better get to your place,” she said.  

“Yes ma’am.  How is she?” 

“She’s good.  Ready to be married to your dumb ass.” Nat smirked at him.  “She’s a little nervous but once she sees you, I think that will go away.”  

Steve kissed her cheek.  “Thank you, Nat.” He hugged the other ladies and then escorted Pepper to her seat.  He finally looked around the church. Belle had tried to involve him when she and the wedding planner were looking at designs, but he really had no interest.  But now, he was in awe of his princess.   

The church was filled with white and pink roses, sprays of daisies and hydrangeas in white, soft pink and blue.  The aisles were lined with black lanterns with white lit candles and petals around them. It was classic, elegant but still understated and demur.  It was he and Belle as a couple.  He took his place in the front with the minister and took a deep breath.  The music started, the pianist playing a version of Journey’s “Faithfully”, something both he and Belle found comforting.  He hummed to himself, I’m forever yours, faithfully.  

He watched as the doors opened and the bridal party made their way down the aisle. Sam and Nat, Tony and Hope and finally Bucky and MJ as the best man and maid of honor.  The ladies were also in navy blue gowns but different cuts. The doors closed again and then the music changed and Steve had to smile.  His girl was nothing if not surprising as the soft sounds of Adele’s “make you feel my love” played.  He took a deep breath and waited for the door to open.  He was ready.  

Ready to commit to the love of his life.  

NEXT

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

[ayejayque]

The Agile approach and the promise that it holds

Understand and comprehend the agile approach Agile method. Agile process. Agile practice. These are all modern-day buzzwords. Despite being introduced for the Software and Tech business processes and expediting work, this has become a norm that encases everything in general, which includes corporate processes and business functions. The agile method works for all kinds of processes and working modes of almost all kinds of businesses. Let us understand what it is precisely and what promise it holds for us in digital times. Technological world agility It was necessary and unavoidable that when corporations step into the digital age, they should be well-equipped to deal with any changes which are very frequent and numerous. Hence, the name Agile is what they had to do – gain agility. Let us consider the Software industry. A few years back, industry giants had the flexibility of having lengthy cycles of development, testing, and deployment in a linear way. This meant that people doing one thing would keep on doing it repetitively. So much so that the hugely popular SDLC (Software Development Life-Cycle) was all over the place. This was simply because this modus operandi stuck around for many years. With the advent of the Digital Revolution, we say speediness in everyday life and work. The linear way of working was done away with. This was because of constant shifts in improvisation that were required. In the Agile way of working, there are no barriers between levels, phases, or steps. All are supposed to happen in cohesion. People are encouraged to collaborate at all levels. This can be done in either a parallel or flexible or collapsing manner. This ensures that there are no boundaries between and sundry and everyone is expected to wear assorted hats as and when required. This also encourages all processes including the commercial release, development, testing, fixing bugs, and detecting issues to run simultaneously. Hence, we understand that Agile is the “on-request” way of working. Here, real-time processing is encouraged for every request. Digital age firms & the agile performance Let us look at two digital giants – Netflix and Google. In the Netflix model, they are expected to deal with thousands of releases and requests every week or month. So, they are expected to keep a system that acts upon fluid requests, actions-on-feedback, detection, and addressing of potential bugs, and that too in real-time. These modern companies and the likes work round the clock, potentially everywhere and anywhere. All who are anyone and everyone are potential workers to address a particular problem. These kinds of flexibilities that these companies have are all because they are Agile. If they were otherwise, this would not be possible. Agility fits perfectly into the digital age model of symbiosis and system interaction. This is the prescribed model for new-age digital companies. Tech giants are always in a state of perpetual interaction with external factors and facets. They gather intelligent feedback and action with an appreciable degree of symbiosis. Agility helps to create a much-required harmony between internal resources and capacity and external environments and the assorted challenges that they bring. This is the reason for the popularity of the Agile way of working worldwide. Embracing agility is a change in your mindset If one is the studious kind, one can browse the numerous business journals and websites and see that embarking on the Agility journey is more of a change in mindset. Fittingly, gurus now admit that going Agile represents an entirely fresh and new mindset. This is the call for digital times. The Agile method has enough strength on its own to hold its ground. All this despite other methodologies trying to become its substitute. Hindrances to embracing the Agile methodology Agility and its features should not be taken to your head. Maybe in the digital eon, it might be the tilting factor, traditional employees might get confused about what is being imposed on them. Whenever I have conversed with old and proven industry resources of the highest order, I have been told stories about how certain methodologies being used in the past proved to be game-changers in the way they worked. It then becomes all the more vital that acquiring agility should be infused into the mindsets of the staff and for that they should be properly trained. When the organogram and the reporting lines become redundant, it may seem confusing to the onlooker from the outside. Agility after all is madness with a method to it. This is what the digital age demands. This blog was written to make you understand this new kid on the block and how it is changing the norms of the way organizations operate in the digital age. Read the full article

[simpurnatural]

Back to You - (T. Chalamet)

Note from Nat: “I got inspo from the song Back To You by Louis Tomlinson and Bebe Rexha + Digital Farm Animals. And some of the lyrics will be added to this piece. Enjoy!”

Simpurnatural’s Grand Masterlist

Warning ⚠️: Smut, Swearing

Any writing errors? Point them out! Love some helpful feedback! <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN LUVS <3

“You told each other that it was over but found yourselves back in each other’s arms“

“I’m sorry. But we can’t doing this anymore.“ you explained into the phone, hearing a scoff on the other end.

“And this is how you’re gonna end this? Over the phone? Is this the end of us?” Timothee asks, running a hand through his hair out of frustration.

“You knew from the moment this started that we agreed there would be no such thing as us,” you reminded, trying to hold back the sobs welling up.

“So it meant nothing to you? Just sex?” he asks in an upset tone. “You know what? Goodbye Y/n.”

You slammed the payphone back onto the hook and thanked yourself for finally letting him go. 

...

“Whoa, you stress me out, you kill me You drag me down, you fuck me up”

...

After being a sobbing mess for a week, you gathered the courage to go through your apartment. Scouring for all of his belongings, whether it be his clothes, photos, or gifts. You planned to return them all to him.

The gold necklace he gave you when he came back from Los Angeles. His blue and white striped polo that you’d wear to the beach. The photo booth pictures from various carnivals and festivals.

The right side of your bed still smelt like him and you hated how you found yourself laying there expectantly. As if he’d appear out of thin air and hold you. Tell you how much he cared about you. Needed you. Loved you.

Timothee on the other hand, showered every night using your body wash. Your scent was like a knife to the chest every time but it was a bittersweet pain worth feeling.

He’d find himself smiling whenever recalling the first time you first met. At an after party which you both had dates to. He never expected to wake up next to someone other than his girlfriend next to him. 

It was you. You were the one he saw wrapped up in his sheets. You were the one he instantly fell in love with after a massive hangover. You were the one he cared about. Needed. Loved.

...

“We're on the ground, we're screaming I don't know how to make it stop”

...

With a box in your arms, you expected nothing more than...Hey, I came by to drop off your stuff...Oh thanks...Bye...

Next thing you know, your fist had just knocked on his front door. Timothee internally groaned and muttered a tired “No thanks”.

“Okay,” you nodded, realizing that this exchange would happen easier than you anticipated.

He shot up from his seat at the sound of your voice and swung the door open. There you were, with a box of some of his belongings

“Hey, I came by to drop off your stuff.” you recited, holding it out for him.

Timothee leaned forward and inspected the box before reaching for it and placing it on the table beside him.

“Thank you,” he says, making it your cue to leave.

“Bye-”

“-Come in.” he offers, “You basically walked across town to get here,” he says.

Being polite, you obliged and stepped into his apartment. You looked around and noticed that he hadn’t open the blinds in a while. Dust floated past you as your scent wafted in from the bathroom.

“Be honest with me,” Timothee began, “Do you miss it?” he asks, referring to whatever fling you two had going on.

“No,” you blinked, looking at him with tears threatening to tread upon your skin.

He stepped closer, cornering you before tucking a lose hair behind your ear “Your lips say one thing but your eyes say something else.”

“What do they say?” you asked as he leaned closer, feeling his hot breath on your neck.

“You still want me,” he whispered, seeing the goosebumps on your skin. “You still need me. You still love me.” he adds.

“Timothee I-”

“Say it,” he says, looking into your eyes “You know it. So just admit it to yourself.” he prods.

“I-I need you,” you nodded slowly, “Every part of you. All of it.”

That’s all the confirmation he needed to pull you into a kiss. Backing you up against the wall and taking you right then and there. The pleads, the moans, and the I love yous were not in vain. 

  ...

“I love it, I hate it, and I can't take it But I keep on coming back to you (back to you)”

...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

With your thesis proposal submitted and marked, the real work lies ahead of you. You’ve claimed your spot in the library, a stack of cue cards with your arguments laid out in columns. It’s the easiest way to sort out your information and narrow down your key arguments. It’s a bit messy but you like the visual diagram to parse out your own thoughts.

You receive a few shaded looks from those who pass by looking for a spot of their own. You don’t mind moving over if they do want to sit but none approach. You bend over the table and switch two cards. You’re standing, circling the table as you’re swept up in getting just the right flow.

You back up and hum. You grab another card, jotting down a new point to add and a sudden slam makes you jump. The thump of the large book on the table sends the cards scattering in a whirlwind. You sputter as you look up at the figure across from you.

You can’t hide your surprise. It’s been a week since the smoothie shop incident and not close to long enough. That man stands on the other side of the table smirking, his white eyes eerily calm but smug. What are the odds he’s a student here?

You shake your head and roll your eyes. You step forward and start gathering up the cards. Your dorm room bed would be just as good as a table. As you reach to swipe up a card, he grabs it first and reads your writing, letting out a scoff.

“Hmm, how cute,” he muses, “you’re trying.”

You ignore him. Whatever, he can keep the cards. You close up your books and slip them into your bag. He plants his hands on the table and leans forward, gaze boring into you.

“Running away again?”

“Do you not know how to take a hint?”

“As much as you,” he counters, “I just wanted to show you that I found a copy of my own.”

You glance at the book in the middle of the table and furrow your brow. Really? This is some weird battle you don’t want to fight. You blow out between your lips and keep tidying up your things. Your laptop is closed and slid away before you can nab it.

You grip the edge and try to pull it from his grasp. He easily dislodges it and tucks it under his thick arm. You hiss and look around, flabbergasted. You turn your frustration around and reach for that coveted book. He stretches his other arm in front of you, blocking you as he looms closer.

“Not so fast,” he holds his large hand up, “would you stop and listen?”

“I’m not interested in listening to you,” you puff out, “give me my computer.”

“Would you let me say what I came to say–”

“Bro, no. How did you even find– you know what? Don’t care. It’s weird. And creepy. Give me my computer and leave me alone. I’ll scream.”

“Relax, you’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic? You want to see dramatic–”

“Would you stop?” His voice rises, drawing looks from a few other students and some hushes. His throat bobs as he peers around, “I’m trying to apologise, alright? I thought…” his eyes meet yours with almost a sheepish tint, “I’d buy you a coffee and we could talk about mythology.”

Your lashes flutter as you try to keep your eyes from rolling so far back they get stuck. You don’t know that you’ve ever met anyone so oblivious. College has introduced you to several characters but nothing like him.

Your mouth falls open and you shake your head. You step forward and latch onto your laptop. He lets you take it. You’re very aware he could keep it from you easily. For all his flaws, he is clearly in good shape.

“I’m trying not to laugh in your face,” you back up and put the book into your knapsack, “so I’ll be very honest and clear with you. You are the most rude, obnoxious person I’ve ever encountered. Free coffee couldn’t even make me spend a single second with you.”

He grits his teeth as his jaw squares, the cleft deepening as he tilts his head. His frustration is laced in confusion. His eyes search you.

“Oh,” is all he manages to get out.

“Right, so, goodbye.”

You swing your bag over your shoulder and snatch your jacket from the back of the chair. You go to step by him and he moves with you. You are actually about to scream.

“Can’t we start over?” He asks.

How many ways can you say no?

You look left and right and your eyes meet an unexpected pair. Oh, you’re not sure if that’s good. Professor Halfdansson raises his hand to give a small wave as he diverts his strut in your direction. You clamp your lips together and turn back to the man in front of you.

“I don’t think so,” you say bluntly.

“Ah, studying are we?” Halfdansson approaches, coming up perpendicular to you and Geralt.

“Uh,” you look between them as the professor gives a thoughtful look to the other man. “Just leaving.”

“This is a friend?” He wonders.

“No,” you answer as Geralt says “yes.”

You have to hold back a snort. You don’t get this. Any of it. Neither of these men seem to have any sort of self-awareness. At least not a concept of reality.

You bite your tongue and rein in the smart retorts flashing through your mind. You make yourself smile, or at least try to muster one. You take a deep breath.

“I have to go,” you say crisply. “Excuse me.”

Geralt is kept at bay by the presence of your professor, though Halfdansson appears astounded by your abrupt dismissal. You’ll have to apologise in class but most importantly, you need to get this goddamn paper done. Without a man hovering around and distracting you.

[trope-appreciation-tuesdays]

A Change to TAT

Gather round the nest my whumpy ducklings, we need to have a chat...

I think by now some of you may have noticed that I've been cancelling TAT quite a bit. A lot of that stems from how busy I've become with a new position with work and my health. (I get tested tomorrow to see if I'm COVID free. All my symptoms are gone for the most part!). But a big part of why I've been alright with cancelling it so much as I have is that I'm feeling a bit burned out. The number of TATs I receive each week ebbs and flows, but there's no denying this event is still very popular and I get a TON of participation every week. I am beyond grateful to you all for sticking with me all these years and for your help in keeping this little event going.

That being said, if I am going to continue to run this event (and in a consistent manner where I'm not cancelling things every other week) I need to make some changes. It is mentally exhausting and physically draining for me to devote an entire day every single week to carefully reading and responding to 100+ asks. I feel like my responses to you have become boilerplate and repetitive and that's not fair to anyone. So here is what I plan to do:

I am still going to add responses to TATs as time and concentration allows, but I am going to start adding more of those responses to the tags. This shorter mode of response is a lot easier on me for some reason, so we might as well roll with it :) That being said, some TATs may not get a response at all, beyond the typical search and tw tags. This will in no way be an indication of what I think of your submission, merely a reflection of the time and energy I have to devote to the event on that particular day.

Secondly, I am going to shorten the window of when I post TATs. The new hours for posting will be 10am to 6pm EST. I think shortening the window will help me a lot, though there may be some days where I post later or earlier. This is going to ensure that I get the theme post out on time and the blog remains updated.

I hope you can all understand the changes I need to make and support me as I try to make this a more sustainable event that I can continue to enjoy. I want to keep TAT going forever and have an active event that I can hand over to someone new when I eventually retire (not happening any time soon, don't you worry).

If you have any opinions or feedback on these changes, please feel free to hit me up on DM (@the-wandering-whumper) or shoot me an ask. I want to hear from you if this upsets you in any way, or even if its just a quick note to let me know you like the changes.

I love you all so much and Happy Whumping :)

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[highdramas]

your lips, my lips | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers

word count: 2404

summary: is there a more divine thought than being kissed by bucky barnes?

note: here's another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don't have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn't like!

enjoy! <3

how do you know when james bucky barnes is going to kiss you?

you’ve learned that you’re not good at figuring out when, how, or if he is going to kiss you. there have been countless moments outside your door, inside your apartment, inside his apartment, down the street at the pizza place, where you thought… this is going to be it. he’s going to hold your face in his hands and you’re going to feel the cold sting of metal that has somehow become so warm to you. he’s going to pull you in closer to him and your eyes are going to roll back into your head and you’re going to experience the bliss that is kissing james bucky barnes.

the time has never come.

because every time you tip your head back slightly and think this is the moment, it has simply never been the moment. sometimes, bucky clears his throat and gives his head a little shake, as if ridding himself of the thought that you both just shared. the thought that you could kiss right now and never look back and hope for the best. but you know bucky, you really know him, and you know that though he may not admit it often, he is fearful. and if he’s anything like you, he’s afraid of ruining this good thing that sits between the two of you, like a glowing ball of energy and goodness and understanding.

despite your fears of never wanting this feeling to subside or fade or crash and burn in some fiery death, that doesn’t mean that every moment you’re around bucky, you’re not thinking of him kissing you. because you are. and it’s driving you slightly insane.

right now, you sit with bucky in central park. you have learned many things about him, but one of the more recent things is that he has never been on a picnic. you had gaped at him then, and you think you said something along the lines of-- “you were wooing women in the 40s and never took one on a fucking picnic?”

that’s another thing about you and bucky.

you may fear a lot, but you do not fear him.

there has never been a moment where you have pushed bucky to tell you more than he was comfortable with. at the start, once he knew that you were already well aware of who he was and some pieces of his history-- it felt like you both started with a mutual understanding. an understanding that says, i know, and it won’t make me run.

but he has told you what he wants to, in bits and pieces. the first time, it was about yori. it was about the look in yori’s eyes when he talked about his son to bucky, it was about how bucky doesn’t know how he can make amends here, how he can say or do anything to possibly help a man who has lost his son at the hands of a man who he has come to call friend.

you have watched as guilt and anger have made a mess of this beautiful man.

and what did you do in return?

sometimes, you didn’t speak. you didn’t think that was what bucky was looking for. you were simply there, with a listening ear and a careful touch.

other times, you did. other times, you couldn’t help yourself.

it was hard to sit and watch and listen to bucky torture himself over and over and over-- you would burst, you would take his metal hand in between yours and you would squeeze and you would say-- “you are not the things that they forced upon you.”

and bucky halted at that. bucky halted and he stared at you, eyes that were moments ago frantic and full of fright, trying to blink some of those feelings away. he would blink and he would try to slow his breathing and he would finally say to you, “how can you know what i’ve done and not walk away?”

“bucky, ever since i’ve known you, the only direction i’ve wanted to walk is towards you.”

he tells you the hard things.

but he also tells you the good things. the things before hydra.

like the dates he went on, the way his life looked in the forties.

so, naturally, when you found out about the lack of picnics in the life of the winter soldier-- you had taken it upon yourself to decide that a picnic was exactly what you two needed.

it was four months ago that bucky asked if you needed help building your cat tower. later, you would call him a creep for spying on you, but you would say it with a smile on your face and a light nudge to his ribs. and in four months it has been hard to stay away from him. that is, when he wasn’t away himself-- you know of his work with the falcon, and really, you think it’s a good thing. you met sam briefly a week ago, after they returned from god knows where, and sam had been nothing but a gentleman. out of the corner of your eye, you even think that you might’ve seen sam nudging bucky and murmuring something that you couldn’t quite make out.

so when he is here, you try and savor every moment, every laugh, every brush of his fingers against yours and every sweet look you two share.

and you hope that maybe one of these times, he will kiss you.

“damn-- this is good.”

the corner of your mouth turns up as you watch bucky sip on the sickly sweet wine you brought. there is a wide assortment of food before you-- strawberries and brie, crackers and cheese, plump purple grapes and chocolate that makes your mouth water. you had made sure to go all out for bucky’s first picnic.

“i didn’t know if you would like it,” you say, taking a sip from your own. “it’s like juice. so sweet.”

bucky furrows his brows. “you know i have a sweet tooth,” he mumbles and it makes your heart sigh because, yes, you do know this. you know him.

for a moment, you turn your focus on the scene in front of you. there are kids running around the park playing, couples laying in the grass, a dog owner throwing a frisbee to a black lab. everyone with their own little lives, their own quiet eternities that you will never know of. when you look at bucky, you wonder what these strangers wonder about you.

you stare and you are not embarrassed to do so, not even when bucky meets your gaze with a firm smirk. “can i help you?”

“no,” you shake your head defiantly. “just looking. is that allowed?”

“i guess,” he says and leans back on the palm of his gloved hand. “don’t know i’m much to look at.”

a snort leaves you. his brows furrow. “are you serious?” you finally ask.

“yes, i’m serious.”

“bucky, i don’t know how else to tell you this, but you are certainly not hard on the eyes.”

you watch as his face goes red and you have to halt yourself. “oh my god,” you say. “you’re blushing.”

“i am not. that’s ridiculous.”

“yes, you totally are! you’re blushing because i said you’re easy on the eyes!”

“it’s a natural bodily response.”

“sure, buck.”

there’s a beat of silence and you chuckle, if only to fill the air and to avert your eyes from his gaze. he’s staring at you with a slightly slacked jaw and a gleam in his eyes that you don’t think you’ve seen before-- and it feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped atop your head. “you’ve never called me that before,” he says quietly.

“oh, yeah, well--” you chuckle again and you shrug. “i don’t have to--”

bucky shakes his head instantly. “no. i don’t mind.”

you smile at him and you look down at your empty cup and back up to him. “we should start heading back.”

the two of you make quick work of gathering together your picnic. you laugh as bucky takes a swig from the bottle and you swat at him, saying public intoxication is very illegal, to which he rolls his eyes. you take the last sip of the bottle and then you’re on your way back to your apartment building.

the earth is on the cusp of spring-- where the nights are finally starting to get long and the air smells crisp, smells like pollen and change. you lean against bucky as you walk and you let out a sigh. “i love spring,” you murmur to him. “the world always feels so new.”

bucky looks over at you and he nods his head. “it’s nice,” he says in quiet agreement.

that’s one thing that you like about bucky-- he doesn’t fill silence unnecessarily. you do. you’ve been trying to break the habit in the months you’ve known him, much to his amusement. he has called you out plenty of times. “i can tell you’re itching to talk. i don’t mind. i like listening to you.”

he’s carrying the majority of your things and you offer to take something off his hands at least three times in five blocks, and every time he screws his face up as he looks at you, as if to say-- funny.

he’s good at saying things without really saying anything at all. you don’t like to think too hard about how he picked up that skill.

bucky helps you into your apartment with your things, and he goes a step further and he helps you put away leftovers and wash the dirty dishes you two had created. “i know if i don’t help you now, they’ll be in your sink until i come over again.”

so you stand side by side, he washes and you dry and put away. you play the bee gees and you’re surprised by how much bucky enjoys it. you’ve been traveling through decades of music with bucky, and now, you’re on seventies. bee gees, fleetwood mac, blondie, abba-- you’ve curated a perfect playlist for him. when you come home from work and hear him listening to it through the thin walls of this old apartment building, you try to ignore the way that your heart swells.

and just as fast as you got swept up in your day with james buchanan barnes, it is coming to an end. you walk him to your doorstep and you lean your head against the doorframe as he stands in it, lingering still, staring at you. “can i help you?” you mimic him from earlier.

bucky laughs.

you love that laugh. you want to earn it again and again and again.

“just looking,” he says in a voice that you have a suspicion is an impression of yours. your jaw drops, and he laughs again, and you don’t know if your heart could swell anymore.

your laughter mingles with his, like a waltz floating through the air until it dissipates above your heads. all that’s left is you and him and the dim light of the hallway and the god awful carpet. “well…” he motions behind him. “i should…”

“yeah.” you bite down on your lip and push back off the doorframe. “night, buck.”

“night, doll.”

your breath hitches and you put on your best smile and you watch as he begins to step down the hall, and finally, you click your door shut.

it’s like pure energy courses through your body. you place your hands on your hips and you pace, looking down at kitty who has emerged from your bedroom. she meows up at you, and you sigh. “oh, honey,” you murmur as you bend down to scoop her into your arms. “why won’t he kiss me?”

you stand there for a few moments before you begin to grow frustrated with yourself. why do you have to wait for him to kiss you? you know that the lines have been blurred long ago, that there is simply no way that he can look at you like that and not want to kiss you too. setting kitty down, you wipe your hands on your jeans and you decide that you are going to be bold, you are going to be brave. and if it blows up in your face… well, you’ve always been somewhat impulsive. you’ve found your way through things blowing up in your face countless times.

you swing your door open and bucky is already there.

with all of your momentum, you almost collide into him. he catches you by the elbows and looks at you, pupils slightly blown, concern on his pretty face. “were you going somewhere?”

“no!” you stammer out immediately. “no… no. i was--” you sigh and you lick your lips and you finally fix your eyes on him. “i kind of-- i kind of thought that you were going to kiss me, back there. and i was disappointed that you didn’t because… well, i don’t think i’m reading into things, but i really think that we might be on the same page about--”

bucky will never know how you were going to finish that sentence, and frankly, with all the frantic nonsense you were spewing, you don’t know if you even knew to begin with-- because he takes your face in his hands and his lips brush yours.

he’s rid the gloves. that’s the first thing you notice, that delicious cold of smooth metal again your cheek. the next is that his lips are so soft. the third is that you could kiss him forever and you think you could never grow tired of it. he is gentle yet demanding, passionate but so incredibly tender that it breaks your heart. it breaks your heart over and over again thinking about the way he thinks about himself, the things that were forced upon him.

you part. a string of spit connects your lips and it makes you laugh and it makes your cheeks grow warm. bucky reaches out with the hand made of metal and wipes your bottom lip and it makes your heart thump, thump, thump in your chest.

“we’re definitely on the same page,” is all he says before he takes your face once more. this time, you shuffle backwards and into your apartment, the door clicking shut. "there's just a dance to these things, doll."

[blissfulbqrnes]

To Call You His

summary; she just wants to be his

warnings; drinking, swearing, arguing, making out, possessiveness, jealousy, niall being dense as always<3, reader messes around with a guy who’s not harry🙄, smut (degrading, praise, fingering (r receiving), dirty talk), pet names (darling, love, sweetheart)

word count; 2k

note; so much happens in such little time, you might get whiplash!! i didn’t proofread, so sorry any plot holes or confusion! thank you so much for 100 followers!

main masterlist!

send feedback or request something!

Harry’s jaw was set tight and his eyes didn’t leave her figure. YN knew exactly what she was doing to him, she had the most flirtatious look in her eyes as she spoke to some douche who was probably only trying to get in a drunken hook up.

Snap, snap, snap

His green eyes shot back in the direction of his best friend who had interrupted his spying, he was talking to him about something he couldn’t recall, but knowing Niall he was most likely talking about one of his many play things. “Are y’even listenin’?” The faux blonde asked, looking offended.

His green eyes shot back in the direction of his best friend who had interrupted his spying, he was talking to him about something he couldn’t recall, but knowing Niall he was most likely talking about one of his many play things. “Are y’even listenin’?” The faux blonde asked, his face contorted in offense.

“Mhm” Harry hummed sucking the straw of his drink into his mouth, “No, yer not! You’re watchin’ YN flirt with tha’ bloke at the bar!” Niall screeched making people glance over at the two of them.

“Shut it, Ni! You’re so damn loud!” Harry whispered harshly, looking around at the eyes on them.

“Don’ lie t’me through yer teeth like tha’ then!” He defended, running a hand through his hair.

Harry zoned back in on YN again, this time her hand was placed on the guys arms, and his hand on her hip, laughing at whatever he was saying. His right leg bounced up and down, an anxious habit of his.

“Quit doin’ tha’” Niall murmured slapping Harry’s hand away from his lips, he hadn’t even noticed he was peeling away the chapped skin until his tongue ran over it causing it to burn, he winced at that.

“Excuse me a mo’, ‘m gonna go use the restroom,” He carefully pushed his chair back, trying his best to avoid the metal to squeak against the floor. “Grab me another Guinness on yer way back, will ye?” Niall shouted holding up a near empty glass despite Harry only having made it about a foot and a half away from the table, “yeah, yeah. Quit your yellin’”

What Harry failed to realize was that he had to walk past her and her knew friend twice and he had to stand at the bar to get Niall his beer. When he looked him her direction her mouth was pressed against that random guy’s.

All he wanted to was scream, and kick his feet like a child, but that was pointless and would do him absolutely no good. After that sight his feet began moving quicker, his mouth felt as dry as the Sahara.

Bile rose in his throat as she visibly let him tongue slip in between her lips, at this point he wished he had the ability to teleport to a completely different continent.

He pushed the restroom door open, leaving it to slam shut in his wake. With his breathing was rigid, his chunky rings clanked against the ceramic of the sides of the sink. Using both hands to keep himself steady on his feet.

Harry almost couldn’t recognize his own reflection in the mirror. Who the hell is this guy who’s absolutely pussy whipped for a girl he met at a party three weeks ago? Now he was loosing his shit in a dodgy bar bathroom.

Turning the cold water all the way on, collecting some into his cupped hands and splashing some of it onto his face.

Once he had somewhat gathered his barrens, and managed to grow a pair, he slipped out of the bathroom and strutted up to the bar. Luckily a lonely redhead was seated a few stools away from where she were currently allowing the same arse-wipe grope her.

The sight of the lonely girl sitting there, made him smirk. Two can play at this game. All thoughts of Niall’s requested drink left Harry’s mind when he slid into the empty chair to the left of YN’s replacement for the night.

She was beautiful not as beautiful as you, but she’d do. A nice body, but her makeup was way overdone to be a pub.

“All alone?” He asked, waving over the bartender, her head shot up, curled hair bouncing when she did. “Oh, yeah. My friend went home with some guy like twenty minutes ago” she smiled politely.

“Well, can I get you a drink?” He leaned his elbow against the wooden counter top awaiting her answer. “Um. Sure!”

Harry ordered his desired alcohol and turned towards the girl, “And for you, darlin’?” She ordered something on the rocks but he wasn’t paying attention. Now YN was shouted for her boy-toy getting up from his seat and storming out of the bar.

“Matt, wait! Fuck!” she groaned, falling face first into her crossed arms on the counter. She wanted to cry, everything was going so well then he asked her out. She’s not looking for someone to date, right now. Just someone to fuck around with and not have any feelings attached to it, aside from the lust.

But nooo, every guy wanted wanted a relationship with a pretty girl to show off on their instagram and to all their friends. That’s not what YN wants to be, just eye candy for someone to use and throw away. It was always their intention.

She could hear how Harry was talking to that redhead girl who came in with her friend a while back, but he was talking to her exactly how he spoke to YN at that frat party.

Truth be told, he was her best lay of her entire life. The way he cared about her getting off rather than himself, how if she asked something specific of him, he sure as hell would do it, how he stayed and cuddled after. She’s definitely gotta get him in her bed again or in that shitty bathroom somehow.

She noticed his friend, Niall was over at a table scrolling on his phone, but he’s a bit.. dense. So he’s out of the question.

Sliding off the bar stool, she grabbed her keys from her purse, holding them loosely in her palm. She walked slowly near them, tugging her dress up a bit and when she was right next to them, she dropped her keys on the ground.

“Oh, oops,” she gasped bending over, allowing her dress to ride up, showing off her upper thighs, and the flimsy, black lace of her panties, “sorry!” she murmured gingerly collecting them from the floor and rising up again slowly, teasing him.

“s’alright” Harry nodded, trying to fend off the hard on in his skinny jeans. YN looked down toward his groin with raised brows, clearly impressed with herself, so his thoughts of puppies and unicorns didn’t work.

After a few more faked apologies, she continued her route to “use the restroom”. Hopefully Harry would be in here pinning her to the wall, and rearranging her insides.

“‘scuse me, a mo’” He didn’t wait for her answer, simply following YN’s route. Straight into the women’s restroom without a single fuck being given.

Sat on the counter, with her thighs spread was YN, an innocent smile on her angelic face. As soon as she saw it was Harry she giggled a bit, he was wrapped pretty tight around her finger. The lock kn the door clicked and he trudged right for her.

“Y’think you’re so hilarious, don’t you?” He gripped her chin forcing eye contact, “yeah, I really do.” she smirked, knowing she was getting a rise out of him. He chuckled dryly, wrapping his hand in her hair, and tugging at it. Hard.

“tha’ was so fuckin’ hot, H. Do it again.” she whined wiggling her hips. Harry scoffed at how easily she submitted to him, “yeah? You like being treated like some cheap whore, hm?” Her thighs tried to clamp shut, but his waist was preventing it.

“Mm-mm,” he hummed pinching her inner thigh, “you’ll do anythin’ for a bit of attention.” He tsked, clicked his tongue. Following through with her wishes, he pulled at her hair once, twice, thrice and unraveled it from his hand.

Her dress had ridden up significantly, allowing the lace thong to be fully in view. His middle finger ran along her slit through the now soiled fabric. “You’re soakin’, love. Want me to fuck you against this counter while Alaina waits cluelessly out there f’me?”

Alaina. So that’s her name. It’s not like she’s of any use anymore, with you spread out for him, all breathless, he’s gotten what he’s been wishing for since the beginning of the night.

“Or should I go take her back to my place and fuck her? Since you wanna give these random men what’s mine?” He questioned, sliding her panties to the side, “Who’s this for, hm? Me or ‘Matt’”

“You, Harry! Please!” she begged for nothing in particular, just for him to fuck her, maybe slap her around a little.

“mhm, this body. You. You’re mine, yeah?” He hummed, kissing at the skin of her neck. This was what she desperately needed since that party, for him to claim her like this. To call her his.

“‘m sorry. I’m yours. Please.” She whined grinding into his rough, calloused palm that cupped her soaking sex. His pointer finger pushed into her pussy, starting a pace that just wasn’t the right speed.

“More, H. Please! More” Her breath was no where to be found, the only thing left being shaky gasps and whiny pleas.

He obliged, slipping in a second finger, curling them into her upper walls, making her thrash against the cool sink behind her. “Oh, Harry! There, there,” she sobbed when his thumb ran tight circles around her clit. “yes, yesyesyes!”

The cool metal of his chunky rings pressed into her every time his finger scissors against her walls. She’s trying her best to make this last, but he’s just so good with his fingers it’s hard not to just cum on the spot.

“Y’gonna cum already?” He teased quickening the pace of his fingers. Her walls clamped down onto them like a vice, loud, shameless whines spewing from her pretty lips, boosting his ego that was already always through the roof.

“Fuck me,” He groaned watching her cum on his fingers after a few short minutes. The tears streaming down her face from the pleasure alone completely ruined her eye liner and mascara she wad wearing, leaving trails of black to stream down her cheeks and neck.

Her body thrashed against his, her hands fisting at his shirt. “How the hell are you so good with your fingers?” you whine, “couldn’t even last seven minutes”

He smiled genuinely, “COD’s good practice” he mumbled, running his slick-coated fingers along her bottom lip. Welcoming them

into her mouth, she allowed them past her plump lips, sucking the arousal off of them and letting Harry pulled his fingers back. He wiped the remaining bit on his jeans.

Harry Styles has the hottest girl at his college completely to his mercy, begging for more of him. She literally just came on his fingers and his crying because of how good he is with his fingers. Talk about an ego boost.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” she mumbled looking almost like she was going to cry again but not in the good way. It took everything in Harry not to completely give in and plant a bunch of nice wet ones on her face. But that Matt guy had kissed her not even forty-five minutes beforehand.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t”

“Fine. Did y’wanna come back to my place and fuck me until the sunrises, then?” she asked, putting on her best puppy eyes even going as far as folding her hands together.

“Y’don’ even gotta ask, darlin’” He smiled, decided a forehead kiss would do for now, “you go first, I’ve gotta wash m’hands. You know what car looks like, sweetheart?” YN hummed fixing her panties and shimming her bodycon dress down her thighs.

YN walked out of that trashy bathroom with sore legs from not only she was sitting but because she was excited to have Harry in her bed again tonight. What she didn’t know, was that in that restroom Harry was planning his way of asking her out tomorrow morning for coffee.