#I’m dedicated and crazed

[conniewoof]

So I really like the latest TBCBTQ chapter…

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59797198/chapters/162998314

@lilpippo ((sorry ik I tagged u on twt “>,>

[moreespressoformydepresso]

The only thing that could ever make me like Descendants 5 is if they fix the MASSIVE GAPING BLACK HOLES that are the plot holes in the entirety of the Rise of Red, specifically that ending.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

HOLY SHIT JUST REALIZED IT WAS MOONRISE’S ANNIVERSARY ON THE IDES, EVERYONE WHO DIED HAS BEEN DEAD FOR ONE SLUTTY, SLUTTY YEAR PAY RESPECTS HERE

[monicaalexandraaa]

Ahhhhh I loved this part !!!! I was so interested to see what would happen when he went out with Niall and I love where you took it! The way he immediately goes to her🥺and then she confesses her feelings (which she was so sweet about and so was he)

“Leaving you is never easy it’s-it’s the hardest part of my day actually and that’s just on a regular basis don’t even get me started on how bad it is when I’m leaving for months at a time.” 🥺🥹

“Sometimes when we are out and you’re holding my hand I like to pretend it’s not just because I’m your muffin but because you actually want to because you’re-you’re just mine and I think about what it would be like to have that all the time.”🥺🥹

Of course that puts Harry in a tough position but I totally understood where he was coming from. And then she goes to his place and they both realize what’s really going on but still are afraid to bring it up in fear of them messing things up😩I love some miscommunication that leads to a happy ending😌😌

The talk in the closet was soooo sweet🥹I’m so happy they were able to talk it through and become official. Also, as always, loved the moments they knew little things about the other (I think it was more Harry knowing things about her in this one but overall I’ve really enjoyed that).

AND THE SMUT !!!!!!!!!! HELLO !!!!!!!!!!! I feel like it just got better and better in each part. I’m really blown away that this is your early stages of writing smut. It was really really good! 👏👏

I loved this story so much!!! So sweet and sexy and fun🥰😍thank you for this🩷🩷

Delicate: Pretend

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut (p in v, fingering), dirty talk, brief moment of anxiousness and insecurity.

A/N: This is the last part of this mini series and I hope y’all enjoy it! This has been a fun little series to get me more comfy with writing smut and y’all have been so sweet!! Don’t worry this isn’t the last time you’ll see these two! 🌟

Word Count: 11.7K

Tag List: @masochistfork @dipmeinhoneyh @sunshinemoonsposts @sweetmoonlove0214 @maudie-duan @umadirectioner @littlemomentsofbeauty @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @prettygurl-2009 @hopefullimaginer123 @somewiseguy @emmie2308 @delanie881dlover13 @frankyrose7 @matildasatellite @run-for-the-hills @mema10 @indierockgirrl @mads3502 @robinsue87 @finelineryy @spinninc @angeldavis777 @swiftmendeshoran

Summary: Drunk confessions change things Harry handles it all wrong🌟

“So yer tellin’ me you don’t-” Niall pauses as his blue eyes glance down to Harry’s phone that’s face up on the small table they are standing at in the middle of the busy pub they’ve only been in for a little over an hour. “Uh your phone is going off.” Niall states as he points to the device currently lighting up and making the table shake with its vibrations. Harry’s brows pinch together as he looks down and sees your contact name flashing on the screen along with a photo of the two of you backstage when you surprised him at one of his first solo shows in New York.

“Oh sorry let me-”

“Does that say Muffin?” Harry sends the Irishman a glare as he picks his phone up, his thumb hovering over the bright green answer button.

“It says mind your own fucking business.” Niall just lets out a loud laugh at Harry’s harsh but still moderately playful tone, he holds his hands up in mock surrender as Harry turns to walk out towards the patio area before hitting the green answer icon and bringing the device to his ear.

“Hey-” his greeting is cut off by a woman’s voice that he faintly recognizes making him quirk a brow as he stands off to the side of the patio that’s only being occupied by a few people enjoying a smoke.

“Harry? This is Cindy we just met a-”

“I remember. What’s going on?” He tries his best not to be snippy and come across as rude but his heart is currently on the verge of beating out of his chest as a sense of worry begins to creep its way towards the front of his mind making every single horrible scenario that could possibly involve you start to play on a loop.

“Uh well we had-or more like she had a few drinks and is upset about something but-”

“But what?” He asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger as he does his best to wait patiently for Cindy to finish explaining the situation, already knowing you’re a bit tipsy while he’s not around to make sure nothing happens to you causing a pit of anxiety to form in his stomach.

“She wants to go home and uhm- well I don’t know where she lives and she can’t really tell me.” It takes Harry half a second to head back inside when Cindy drops the news on him that you’re wanting to go home but are currently not in a clear enough state of mind to tell this poor woman where home is.

“I’m on my way.” He doesn’t let her say anything else before he’s ending the call, he does however make a mental note to apologize for his less than friendly tone and bluntness when he sees Cindy later. He lets out a sigh as he begins checking the location setting in your contact information so he can see where you’re at and it doesn’t shock him one bit to see you’re exactly where he left the two of you before he called Niall for a night out.

“Everything alright with the muffin?” Niall asks as he places his near empty pint glass down as Harry approaches the table.

“She’s drunk.” Is all he says as he places his phone on the table and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Niall raises an eyebrow when Harry tosses down more than enough cash to cover the three beers they’ve had between them. “I have to go get her and take her home.”

“Ah bestfriend duties huh?” Harry doesn’t miss the slightly suggestive tone of Niall’s voice as he says the word bestfriend.

Like somehow Niall knows all about the filthy things the two of you have done and the mixture of emotions that have begun to rise to the surface as an unforeseen side effect of them. But he doesn’t, he can’t, because Harry didn’t have the time to get enough liquid courage pumping through his veins to tell him before Cindy called and informed him of your current situation. So he just brushes it off as Niall being his obnoxious self and rolls his eyes at him when he shoots a wink his way after Harry grabs his phone.

“Yes now tell Amelia she’s an actual saint for putting up with you and that if she still needs a rebound guy I’m available.”

“Oh fuck off like she’d want to be with you after being with me?”

“I’d show her what being with a proper gentleman is like.”

“Are you having a fucking laugh? In no way are you a proper gentleman H you-you leave people on read for months and then show up out of the blue on their doorstep and-”

“It’s called a depressive episode Niall everyone has them and I showed up at your door because it was supposed to be a surprise you twat.”

“A surprise? Harry I didn’t even think you had my new address! That’s how long it had been since we talked.”

“We share locations of course I have your new address now I’m sorry for calling you and then leaving so soon but she-she needs me and-” Niall just holds up a hand while shaking his head making Harry stop his rant halfway through.

“It’s okay I understand Harry you don’t need to apologize. You should go get her. ” Niall tells him with a smile that makes Harry feel like Niall definitely knows something is going on between the two of you he just doesn’t know to what extent. “Better run as fast as you can though.” He adds with a mischievous grin as he brings his beer up to his lips to take a sip, Harry raises an eyebrow in confusion making Niall chuckle.

“What are you on about?”

“Ya know.” Harry stares at the blue eyed man like he had six heads making Niall let out a frustrated huff. “Because you’re the damn muffin man.”

“That’s the gingerbread man you idiot.” Harry says with a snarl only making Niall lean his head back and laugh while Harry reaches over and snatches the cash from the table. “Pay for your own shitty beer.” He snaps as he shoves the cash into his front pocket before turning to walk towards the front of the pub.

“Is it okay if I tell people I know you?” Niall shouts causing Harry to raise his hand up and shoot Niall the bird on his way out the door making his best mate laugh even louder knowing he was able to get a rise out of him.

“Fucking Horan always with the jokes.” He mumbles once he’s outside and heading towards the restaurant you and Cindy are at.

It only takes Harry ten minutes and one car laying on their horn and tossing a few unsavory words at him when he crosses the street while they were making a right turn until he is standing in the doorway of the very same restaurant he left you at after hearing you tell Cindy not once, but twice how much of just a friend he is to you. He runs a hand through his hair as he prepares himself to see you, not that he doesn’t want to see you it’s just that he hasn’t had an adequate amount of time to deal with these new feelings he’s discovered he has for you to be able to be in the same room with you without potentially making it extremely weird. But it becomes clear to Harry the closer he gets to the booth you are still sitting in that you’re in no condition to notice if he’s being weird or not, his eyes scan the table in front of you that consists of three empty martini glasses and a plate that now just has some sad little crumbs instead of the mountain of fries he watched the waiter bring you over an hour ago.

“Well looks like I missed quite a party.” Harry’s tone is light and playful as he walks up to the table, Cindy looks over at him with a relieved expression on her face while you on the other hand rest your elbow on the table and tuck your chin into your palm before speaking to him.

“Yeah. You did.” You state with a slight edge as you look up at him, your eyes are glossed over and the tip of your nose matches the light shade of pink your cheeks have turned due to the drinks you’ve managed to finish in a short amount of time.

“What’s the occasion?” He asks as Cindy looks back at you and gives you a smile before she starts to slide out of the booth.

“Can’t tell you.” Harry rubs his lips together to hold off the smile as you try your hardest to sound stern and serious but you have a silly little lopsided grin on your face that makes you come across as anything but.

“I’m sorry but I have to go I have a flight home tomorrow and-”

“You’re leaving me too? No-no you can’t go you just got here.” Harry tries not to let the first few words hit him in the gut as he watches you reach out for your friend who gives you a grin and a breathy laugh.

“I know I’m sorry but next time I’m in town I’ll call you and we can meet up for dinner or something.” She offers as she reaches over and grabs your outstretched hands, giving them a nice squeeze before she lets go.

“Okay.” You say with a pout, Harry turns his attention away from you and over towards Cindy who is tossing the strap of her crossover bag over her shoulder.

“Sorry about how I was earlier I didn’t mean to come off as rude I just wasn’t expecting to be dealing with this tonight.” Cindy gives him a small smile as she places her hand on his arm.

“It’s okay I understand.” Harry feels an odd familiarity in the way she says the four simple words to him and the way her smile seems as if she’s almost hiding something. “It was lovely to meet you-have a good night.” She’s off and walking towards the door before he can think too much into it making him turn all his attention back to you, his very tipsy bestfriend that almost two hours ago he realized he was in love with.

“Hi love.” Harry reaches his hand down and places it on your shoulder, the pout still etched on your face as you look at his hand. “Ready to-”

“You just left.” It’s a mixture of your words and your sad almost watery hushed tone that makes him feel the first crack in his heart that’s already confused and working overtime due to the near anxiety attack he’s been fighting off ever since answering the phone not even fifteen minutes ago.

“I thought you’d like to spend some time with-”

“You thought wrong.” Your tone is harsh but soft as you brush his hand off your arm and slide out of the booth, Harry uses the time it takes you to stand up to flip through the events of the evening to see where he misread any of the signals or misheard anything that would’ve given him the idea that you wanted him to stay.

“Just wanna go home.” You mumble as you lean over into the booth to grab your clutch, Harry’s arm instinctively wraps around your waist when he sees you wobble just a bit once you’re standing back upright.

“Okay.” He says softly not wanting to speak any louder than you, afraid it’ll cause your lower lip that’s tucked between your teeth to start wobbling and your eyes to finally allow the tears he can tell you’re trying to will away with blinks and a deep breath start to fall.

To his surprise you let him keep his arm around you the whole walk out of the restaurant and even allow him to slide his hand to your lower back to maneuver you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the oncoming traffic. He doesn’t dare to look over at you the whole walk back to your apartment, he can feel the change in the air that’s circulating around the two of you and he isn’t ready to deal with it just yet. So instead he just uses his key and opens your front door, holding it open for you before he slowly follows behind so he can use the few minutes it takes to close and lock it to try and gather his thoughts before having to walk into your living room where he knows you’ll be sitting on the armrest of your couch trying to clumsily take your shoes off.

“Is it easy for you?” Your question catches him off guard as he takes a few steps into your kitchen where he sees you leaning against your island, your shoes are still on and your clutch looks as if you just tossed it onto the counter next to you. Harry can’t help but raise an eyebrow as he creates some space between the two of you by heading into your living room that is open to the kitchen.

“Is what easy?” He asks as he turns so he’s facing you but leaning against the back of your couch. He’s glad he’s gripping on the back of it for support as he finally looks you in your eyes, they look almost twice as big with all the tears he can see brimming the edge of your waterline that he knows will be streaming down your face within the next few blinks.

“Leaving me.” Harry feels as if all the air got knocked out of him as he hears the way you’re trying to hold back your emotions, but he watches them betray you as your bottom lip starts to tremble and the first tear rolls down your cheek. “You do it a lot and-and sometimes you make it look so easy that I just want to know if-”

“I make it look easy?” He asks dumbfounded making you just shrug as you wipe at your face trying to get rid of any evidence that your emotions might be winning at the moment. “Leaving you is never easy it’s-it’s the hardest part of my day actually and that’s just on a regular basis don’t even get me started on how bad it is when I’m leaving for months at a time.” He answers as he pushes off the couch and takes a few steps towards where you’re standing in your kitchen.

“Then why do you do it?” Harry feels another crack begin to form in his heart when your voice breaks and you look away from him and down towards your shoes that he knows you’re going to need help unbuckling in your tipsy and emotional state.

“You always leave like-like you left me for a whole week and then you stay the night and-and we do things and then you leave in the morning or after lunch and tonight you-you just got up and left me without even really saying anything just have fun and-and then you were gone.” Harry’s hands are on your face by the time you’re done letting all your thoughts tumble out of your mouth in a slightly slurred, jumbled mess.

“I’m sorry love I’m so sorry.” His thumbs brush some tears away as they gently wipe under your eyes. “I didn’t know you wanted me to stay.” He answers truthfully because you’re very good at telling him and pretty much anyone else what you want so hearing how upset you are with how things have been going recently makes him want to pull you into his chest and hold you until you fall asleep or forgive him, whichever comes first.

“You never asked.” You tell him with a sniffle that makes the corners of his mouth droop downwards. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Harry leans in and places a kiss to your forehead as you let out a shaky breath and close your eyes making a few tears roll down your already soaked cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to fall for you but-but I did and now I feel like I’m going insane every time you leave because I miss you so much and god you think there’s something going on with me and Zayn but-but we only kissed one time on a drunk dare years ago and-and I’m-I’m sorry for making you do this all because I got fired.” Harry takes a half step backwards so he can get a good look at you after you let out a sigh as if you feel a sense of relief having gotten all that off your chest. Your eyes open and immediately find his, your hands come up to wrap around his wrists as his hands stay holding the sides of your face.

“You don’t have to say sorry you didn’t force me into this I wanted to do it I-I like taking care of you.” He sees a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips as you give his wrists a small squeeze.

“Sometimes when we are out and you’re holding my hand I like to pretend it’s not just because I’m your muffin but because you actually want to because you’re-you’re just mine and I think about what it would be like to have that all the time.”

“To have what all the time love?”

“You being mine and not just-”

“Just Harry?”

“Exactly.” You say with a deep sigh as you use your hands around his wrists to gently pull them away from your face. “But it’s stupid because look at me-I have my shoes on still and-and no job I’m-I’m a total mess.” You grumble as you point to your feet with a huff as you step around Harry and only slightly stumble your way to your couch so you can lean against the armrest and try to lean down and unbuckle the strap of your sandals. It’s this little action that makes him very much aware how gone you are, and how you probably won’t remember much of this conversation tomorrow.

“You’ve always been a mess.” Harry lightly teases as he walks over and kneels down so he can undo the straps of your shoes for you earning him a watery laugh from you.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this-even though it’s your fault be-cause you left.” You whisper as you run a hand through his hair, giggling to yourself when you accidentally cause some pieces to fall into his face.

“I’m sorry I’m the reason you got like this.” He responds trying to cover how upset he is with himself giving you a smile that your martini fogged mind won’t notice isn’t genuine.

“If you forgive me I’ll forgive you.” Harry looks down at your outstretched hand with a chuckle, you smile when he places his and in yours. “Thanks for taking me home.” You tell him as you drop his hand and wrap your arms around him for a hug that he instantly reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

“I’ll get you some water and aspirin to keep your head from throbbing too bad in the morning.”

“Will you be here?” You tilt your head so you can look at him. “In the morning?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Yes.” Harry just gives you a smile as he leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“Okay then I’ll be here.”

It doesn’t take him long to wrangle you into the comfort of your soft sheets, the only obstacle for him having to wrestle you a bit so he could take your dress off and slip one of his t shirts over your head as you whined about being too tired to care what you slept in. But Harry knows you, he knows you’ll get all huffy and puffy in the middle of the night having to deal with the way the dress feels too tight while trying to sleep and he’ll wake up next to your naked body in the morning and that’s something he really doesn’t think he has the mental bandwidth to deal with right now. So once he finally gets you to drink some water and take your aspirin he is tucking you into bed, a soft kiss to your forehead that has your eyes closing and a soft sigh leaving your lips.

“Goodnight love.” He whispers to which you just mumble something incoherent before rolling over onto your side. He runs a hand over his face as he closes your bedroom door and walks into the living room.

“Fuck.” He mumbles to himself as he takes a seat on the edge of your couch, not being able to shake the uneasy feeling he gets at the thought of going in there and sleeping in the same bed he had you moaning and crying out his name in just this morning. Because now he knows things haven’t just changed for him but for you as well, the only difference is that you won’t remember talking about it while Harry is left carrying this new information around like an extra weight strapped to his heart.

So he gives himself some time to sit and process everything for a while before he eventually kicks off his jeans and slides into bed with you silently clinging to the idea that maybe, just maybe tomorrow morning the martinis won’t have washed away your memories of the previous evening and you’ll remember the confessions you said between little sniffles while tears rolled down your cheeks. But as he gets comfortable and you let out a tiny whimper before your hands find him in the dark to pull him closer to your side of the bed, Harry begins to understand he’s not that lucky and you most likely have already forgotten everything you said to him.

Harry swears there’s a whole layer of hell dedicated to the exact form of torture he’s enduring right now as you snuggle into his side and nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck while your hand that was resting on his chest just a few moments ago begins to slowly slide down to a very obvious destination. He’s never denied you before, not even a few weeks ago when he was half asleep on the couch and all you wanted was to have his cock in your mouth or when you were a few drinks in and were a needy mess for him after joining him at a gallery opening just begging for him to put his mouth on you, he always gives in and ends up giving you whatever you want.

And for a moment he thinks maybe he should just let you have your way, since that is his role in a very specific part of your life, to take care of you in anyway you need him to but the larger part of him, your bestfriend quickly shoves that line of thinking out the window the moment he feels your hand dip under the waistband of his boxers. Because knowing what he knows makes him feel a pang of guilt at the idea of allowing himself to feel the pleasure of your touch, even if at this very moment nothing would make him happier than to let you use him to find your own pleasure. He can’t risk this coming back and biting him in the ass because with the way his luck seems to be running out he knows it’s bound to happen eventually and he refuses to let his friendship with you be in jeopardy just because he couldn’t practice a bit of self control.

“Good morning love.” His voice is thick as he cracks his eyes open and gently wraps his large hand around your delicate wrist before your soft fingers can grab a hold of his hardening length. “How you feeling?” He asks as he drags your hand back up his chest placing it over his heart, placing his overtop and running his thumb over your knuckles.

“I feel okay.” You mumble against the sensitive skin of his neck, your lips brushing against the spot below his ear has a shiver running down his spine and straight to his cock making him close his eyes. “Just a little headache but-”

“I’ll make some coffee.” He’s sliding out of bed before you can even blink and register what’s happening. “Caffeine helps with headaches.” He adds without so much as glancing over at you to see your confused face as you sit up and watch him all but run out your bedroom door.

“Harry.” Your voice is a little rough due to the tears you shed the night before as it calls out for him from the bedroom just as he is pouring water into your coffee pot. He lets out a sigh as he runs both hands through his hair giving it a firm tug at the roots to try to help him ground himself and remind himself that his friendship with you in the end is worth more than getting laid.

“Yes love?” He asks with a warm smile as he leans against the doorway of your bedroom. You raise an eyebrow as you place your hands in your lap and tilt your head to the side as if you’re trying to decide if something is off with him or not and Harry hopes your slightly blurry vision from sleeping in your mascara will help conceal his fidgeting hands and the way his smile doesn’t quite match the gentle tone of his voice.

“How-what happened last night?” There it is, the question he knew was coming and the justification he needed to feel a little better about his abrupt departure from the comfort of your bed.

“You had a few drinks with Cindy and-”

“Oh god the martinis.”

“They get you every time I don’t know why you still order them.”

“Because they taste good and I like the cute little olives on a stick.” Harry lets out a chuckle and shakes his head at your reasoning for still preferring a martini when you go out for drinks. “Did she take me home or-”

“I brought you home.” He answers making you slowly nod your head as your eyes dart around the room as if you’re looking for clues to help you piece together what took place last night.

“On a scale of one to ten how embarrassing was I? Did I try to sing Madonna on the patio again?” You ask with a hint of almost fear in your voice that makes Harry give you a reassuring smile as he shake his head no.

“You were fine just a bit emotional that’s all-no Madonna or Cher on the patio.”

“I do enjoy a good cry when I’m drunk that’s for sure.”

“I’m going to go finish making some coffee.” He tells you as you fall back onto your soft sheets with a dramatic huff.

“Harry?” He pauses mid-step and turns to look at you over his shoulder with a quirked brow as you lift your head up so he can see you properly. “Thank you.” Your voice sounding so genuine is what makes Harry have to turn and walk back into the kitchen after muttering a soft barely audible you’re welcome, feeling the guilt of not telling you everything that happened last night begin to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He mumbles quietly to himself as he stands in front of your coffee maker, gripping the edge of your counter as it finally starts to percolate and the dark brown liquid begins to gather in the pot.

“This is fine. It’s going to be fine.” He repeats the phrase it over and over again in a hushed whisper as he closes his eyes and readies himself to spend a good chunk of the day with you, all while trying to not give into your advances or spill the beans on everything you told him last night, two things that at the moment he doesn’t really know if he’s actually capable of doing but he is going to try his best.

Harry wouldn’t say he’s avoiding you, he would say he’s simply busy or has made himself busier than normal by accepting last minute meetings and being more hands on with a few projects for an upcoming launch and if that just so happens to help him not be stuck in awkward situations with you then that is just a happy coincidence. He’s managed to keep himself busy for the last three days since the morning after you drunkenly told him how you feel about him and if he’s being honest with himself he misses you, it’s not like he’s ghosted you or anything he still texts and sends random voice notes throughout the day he just hasn’t been in the same room as you, hasn’t smelt your perfume or felt your hand brush his skin when you push his hair up and out of his face and well, he misses it. But as his luck would have it, three days is about all the time he’s going to get before being in the same room as you again because as he steps out of the kitchen and into his living room with a fresh mug of tea in his hand he hears a very familiar sound of his front door being unlocked.

“Why does he keep it so cold in here?” His brain actually stops working for a moment as your soft voice floats from the entryway by his front door and into the dimly lit living room. He looks around frantically as he places his mug on the coffee table, trying to find a place to hide as if you’re some crazed person who just broke into his house and he’s not trying to be the first kill of a horror movie.

“Fuck.” He groans as he stubs his toe on the edge of the bookshelves that line the wall behind his couch, it’s in that moment that he realizes how dumb this is because the moment you see the mug on the table you’re going to know he’s home and it’s not like he gives everyone keys to his house or his gate code but before he can try to move and greet you he hears your footsteps getting closer.

“Why is it so-oh my god!” Your hand flies up to your chest over your heart as soon as you walk into the living room and see Harry in the middle of ducking behind his couch, hands gripping the back of it with his eyes wide as if he was expecting someone else besides you.

“Harry what the hell are you doing? You scared the shit out of me.” He slowly stands up and brushes his hands down the front of his t shirt as if he’s trying to get rid of invisible dust.

“I was uhm-uh-uh I live here.” He fumbles with his words making the sentence come out more like a question rather than a statement.

“I’m aware of that I meant what are you doing behind the couch?”

“Oh I dropped some-wait why are you here?” He quirks a brow as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, his eyes do a quick once over of your outfit and his eyes soften when he recognizes it as the one he helped you pick. “Your interview was today?” The small nod you give him tells him it didn’t go well and he feels his heart drop when you sniffle and look away from him and up towards his ceiling.

“I’m apparently overqualified so-”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means they didn’t want to pay me what I’m worth but also didn’t feel comfortable paying me the amount they are willing to offer.”

“That’s stupid.” He states harshly making you let out a watery chuckle and give him a shrug as you look at the ground. Harry puts his hands in his pockets and rubs his lips together as he tries to think of something to say to make you feel better when all he wants to do is pull you into his arm and kiss the frown off your face.

“I uhm wanted to use your fancy shower with all the-the jet things that massage your back.” You tell him shyly as if you haven’t ever come over with or without him being home to use his fancy contraptions like his shower, jacuzzi tub or steam sauna. “I forgot to check your location to see if you were home. I’m sorry.” Harry just lets out a laugh as he walks over to his coffee table to grab his tea.

“You don’t have to apologize love it’s fine go ahead I was about to go read for a bit but I can do that in the study if you’d like some-”

“You can read wherever you want Harry it’s your house.” You inform him with a playful hilt to your voice making him just lift one shoulder in a shrug.

“I know I just didn’t want to bother you that’s all.” You tilt your head as you adjust your bag that he knows has an extra set of more comfortable clothes in it as well as a pair of cozy socks so your feet don’t get cold on his hardwood floor, something you always complain about every time you stay over and the main reason he has a whole drawer dedicated to fuzzy socks just for you.

“You never bother me Harry.” Your voice is reassuring and makes him smile and feel his cheeks get warm as you take as few steps towards the hallway his bedroom is at the end of. “Do you still have that towel warmer you can’t figure out how to use?”

“Yes.” He answers with a chuckle making you smile as you head off down the hallway.

“Perfect.” Is all he hears you say before you’re out of his sight. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a moment to let his current situation hit him, you’re in his house about to go use his bathroom because you want a relaxing shower after a job interview that ended poorly.

“This is fine.” He mumbles as he brings his tea up to his lips hoping the warm liquid will help calm him down a bit as he turns and slowly makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. When he walks into the room he smiles when he sees your bag on the end of his bed that you tend to sleep on, a sight he hasn’t seen in a few days that he’s missed and oddly enough it has him wondering if he’s gone about this whole thing totally wrong.

“We both have feelings for each other so what’s the real harm in enjoying each other’s company?” He thinks to himself as he places his tea on his nightstand. He turns towards the door that leads into his bathroom when hears you humming to yourself as you set up your things, and when you emerge in nothing but a fluffy robe he finds it hard not to take notice of how adorable you look wrapped up in the soft fabric of the light pink robe that lets him see a decent amount of your legs since it stops around the middle of your thigh.

“Damn she looks good.” His mind takes a dangerous turn as he blatantly stares at you, but he can tell by the faint smile on your lips that you don’t mind, not really.

“Stop staring at me you weirdo.”

“I’ll stop staring when you stop being pretty but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Oh god Harry that was bad.” You tease as you dig through your bag for something, Harry takes this time to walk around the bed so he’s standing next to you.

“That was good and you know it.” He argues as his hands grip your waist to turn you so you’re facing him, you roll your eyes and let out a huff making Harry laugh at your little dramatics. “Come on love just admit it-it was good.”

“I’ll do no such thing because it was horrible.”

“That just means I’ll have to try harder then.” You bite your lip to hide your smile as a blush creeps its way across your cheeks. “What is it you’re digging around for in that black hole you call a bag?” He asks as his hands slide down to your hips.

“My socks. I can’t find-”

“I have some.” He says with a smile as you raise an eyebrow at him. “And yes they are fuzzy and soft just like you like.”

“What would I do without you?” Your tone is playful but Harry swears he hears just the faintest edge to it letting him know you’re actually being genuine.

“Well hopefully you’ll never have to find out but I’m sure it would involve you walking around with cold feet.” His voice is smooth and gentle as he brings a hand up to cup the side of your face.

“I’ve missed you.” You whisper as his thumb runs across your cheekbone, your hands are on his chest feeling the softness of his t shirt. When you look up and lock eyes with him you watch the usual light jade green turn into a dark emerald shade as he licks his lips.

“I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low as he leans in and presses his lips against yours in a kiss that has your eyes closing and your arms wrapping around his neck.

The kiss starts off slow but as Harry feels you pull him closer to deepen it, the kiss turns hungry. You swipe your tongue over his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth as his hand slides from the side of your face into your hair. He manages to maneuver the two of you so the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed without breaking the kiss. His lips move against yours as he gently lowers you to the bed, standing between your legs as your back hits the soft comforter.

“You okay?” He asks as he pulls away, his hands on either side of your head as he hovers over you.

“Yes.” You say with a nod making Harry smile as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead then your cheeks and the tip of your nose making you giggle as his lips find their way to your jaw. “You know I did come over to take advantage of your shower.” You remind Harry as he kisses his way down your jaw to the side of your neck.

“Mind some company?” He asks between little nips to the side of your neck, he smiles against your sensitive skin when he hears you let out a small gasp when he nips at the spot just below your ear.

“Not at all.” You answer with a sigh as Harry’s lips travel down your neck, moving your robe just enough so he can place kisses to your collar bone while your hands slide down his chest and dip under the hem of his t shirt feeling the way his muscles tense under your touch.

“Let me go get it started then. Know how all the knobs confuse you.” He teases making you run your finger up his side slowly a place you know he’s always been ticklish, causing him to flinch away as a deep chuckle bubbles up from his chest.

“Don’t be rude Harry.”

“Sorry love.” He gives you a sly smile when he lifts his head, his eyes catch yours before he places a quick kiss to your lips. “How hot do you want it? Burn your flesh or a normal temperate most humans can tolerate?” He asks as he stands up, his hands on the tops of your thighs as you sit up onto your elbows.

“Most humans can tolerate how hot I like to shower you just-”

“Baby your version of a hot shower is equivalent to what I’m guessing the inside of a volcano feels like.” He watches your face as the petname falls from his lips, he sees the smile that takes over and the way your cheeks turn the tiniest bit pink.

“You don’t have to join me if you can’t handle it.” Your tone is nothing but teasing making Harry give you a knowing look before he’s leaning in and attaching his lips to yours in a kiss that leaves you wanting nothing more than to pull him down onto the mattress with you and say to hell with the shower when he pulls away.

“Oh I can handle it don’t you worry.” And with that he’s giving your thighs a little squeeze before turning and heading into the bathroom.

Harry stares at you in awe as he watches the warm water cascade down your body, steam filling the shower and surrounding the two of you in an intimate kind of warmth. His are eyes filled with lust and deep affection as you run your hands through your damp hair after rinsing out your fruity smelling conditioner, you tilt your head and glance at him over your shoulder. It’s when he watches you bite your bottom lip that he decides he’s done being polite and keeping his hands to himself while you enjoy his shower. It takes him three steps until he’s on you, hands softly tracing your curves, savoring every soft inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and delicate curve just incase it’s the last time he’ll get to experience it.

His hands gently grip your hips and turn you so your back is pressed against the tile wall of his shower as he captures your lips in a heated kiss, your arms wrap around his neck as he slides his tongue against yours deepening the kiss. You pull him closer when you feel a hand slip between your thighs, he swallows down your moan when the tip of his index finger runs up and down your slick folds, teasing you.

“Need to feel you.” He mumbles against your lips when he pulls away from the kiss just to let you catch your breath, your head rests against the wall as he pushes his finger into your wet center pumping in and out a few times before adding his middle finger earning him a moan as you grind down onto his hand.

“Oh god.” Your voice is soft and breathy as he pumps his fingers into your wetness at an agonizingly slow pace that has your hands gripping the tops of Harry’s shoulders. “H-Harry I need more please.” He leans in and places kisses to the side of your neck as his thumb begins rubbing light circles over your clit.

“You’ll get what you need I just want to take my time with you.” He says as he kisses down your neck to the top of your shoulder. “Haven’t gotten to fuck this sweet pussy in days baby I wanna feel you make a mess on my fingers before I stuff you full of my cock.” He tells you as his fingers curl inside of you, pumping into you at a quicker but still slow and deliberate pace that has you feeling pressure slowly build in your lower tummy.

“Missed your fingers so-oh yes yes right there.” Harry smirks against your wet soft skin as he adds a third finger, he feels you begin to clench around him as he makes his thrusts more determined and adds more pressure to your clit.

“Yeah? Missed my fingers being deep inside you? Oh that’s the spot isn’t it baby? God you feel so good-can feel your tight little pussy squeezing them.” He lets out a groan as you arch your back and grind down onto his hand as your eyes snap shut. “Let go for me baby-I’ve got you.” He whispers in your ear as he pumps his fingers into you at a pace that has you letting out a soft cry of his name as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

“Harry-oh oh god.” His skilled fingers pump into you at a steady pace as he feels your release drip onto his hand down to his wrist, trying to drag out your pleasure as long as he can making your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath. He kisses your forehead when you let out a tiny whine as he slides his fingers out of your soaked cunt.

“God you’re so pretty when you come undone for me.” He tells you voice thick with need before his lips are on yours in a passionate kiss that has your hands tangling into his damp hair trying to pull him closer as his hand slides to the back of your thigh lifting your leg up, his tongue licks into your mouth as he nudges the tip of his painfully hard cock at your entrance. He pulls away from your kiss swollen lips and watches your face as he slowly pushes his tip into your warm wet center, he feels you give his hair a tug when he pulls out just to teasingly push back in.

“You’re being mean.” You whine as he pushes into you so half his cock is snug inside your tight hole just to slide back out slowly so just the tip is inside you. His hand gives your thigh a squeeze as his lips find that spot below your ear that makes you let out a breathy moan.

“M’not being mean baby I’m just giving you what you want.” His sweet and soft voice is wrapped in a teasing tone as he whispers in your ear, he slowly sinks his thick cock inside you letting you feel every inch of him till you’re gripping onto his arms at how overwhelming it is to feel him fill you up like this. He stills for a moment letting you adjust to him and wanting to savor the feeling of you being wrapped tightly around him. “I missed how good it feels to stuff my thick cock inside your tight pussy it’s always so snug and-god it feels amazing.” He says with a moan, his mouth nipping at your jaw lightly.

“So good-feels so good.” You moan as he begins to move his hips making sure you feel how deep he is with each slow deliberate thrust.

“You like being full of me don’t you baby? Like it when I hit that spot-right there.” He watches with lust filled eyes as he gives you a deep thrust making the tip of his cock hit the spot inside you that has your eyes closing and his name falling out of your mouth. “That’s it just let me take care of you-so pretty baby.” His lips find yours as your hands grab at his back pulling him closer, his tongue swipes across your bottom lip before he slides it past your lips deepening the kiss as he increases the pace of his thrusts just enough to have you moaning into his mouth.

“Your pretty cunt is takin me so well-doing so good for me.” He says with a moan when he pulls away from your lips, his hand glides down between your wet bodies until his thumb finds your clit. “Talk to me sweetheart tell me how you feel.” He demands gently, needing to hear your voice telling him how good he’s making you feel.

“Oh god it feels so good Harry-so big oh shit and-deep I love it.” He lets out a deep groan when he feels you clench around him, he leans back just enough so he can look down and watch his thick shaft disappear into your cunt as he pulls out to just the tip and then slowly pushes back in making you claw at his back. “Faster Harry please-oh god.” You beg as he takes his time fucking you nice and slow with deep thrusts of his hips that has you needing more as your hips jerk up to meet his pace.

“Greedy little thing.” He teases as he increases his pace just slightly. “Wanted to take my time fucking this perfect little pussy- be gentle and sweet to you but you just always need it a bit rough and hard don’t you baby?” You just let out a cry of his name as he gives you a particularly harsh thrust and his thumb presses tight circles on your clit. “Always begging for more even when I’m stuffing you with my big cock that you love so much-god you feel so fucking good wrapped around me I swear it’s like heaven being buried inside your tight little cunt.” His words have you pulsing around him as his thrusts turn quicker and more determined as he grabs your legs and hikes it over his hip letting his cock reach even deeper with the new angle.

“Oh fuck Harry-don’t stop oh god please don’t stop.” You pant as he leans his head into the crook of your neck and nips at the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Not gonna stop baby just let go for me-let me see that pretty face you make when you’re coming all over my cock-need to feel you make a mess all over me.” He licks and sucks his way down your neck only lifting his head when he feels you clenching around his thick length and a string of incoherent words mixed with his name rumble out of your mouth as you reach your blissful release.

“Want you to come Harry-fill me up please Harry- please.” He groans as he pumps his cock in and out of your tight hole as you ride out the waves of pleasure from your intense orgasm.

“Fuck baby-always so polite when you’re begging for my come to be pumped deep inside your pussy.” Your nails dig into his shoulders as his thrusts turn harder and more precise, he feels his muscles in his stomach tighten and with a choked moan he’s spilling into you, coating your wet walls with his warm load. “Filling you up just the way you like-gonna have me dripping out of your tight little hole all night.” He pants as he slowly fucks himself through his release making you a withering mess in his hold as he moves his thumb from your clit so he can grab ahold of your hip helping you stay upright against the wall.

Your hands cup his face when he places a soft kiss to your lips, his hand sliding down your thigh as he gives you one last thrust before slowly pulling out. His mouth moves against yours as you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue past his lips while his hand gives your hip a soft squeeze before sliding down between your legs. Harry kisses you through the shiver that runs through your body when his index and middle finger tease your soaked entrance before slowly slipping inside of you, he feels you tremble in his hold as his tongue slides against yours while he pumps his fingers into you slowly.

You lean your head back against the tile as Harry’s lips travel down your jaw to your neck, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his fingers work his come back into you with each slow pump. Your hands fall to his shoulders as you try to catch your breath.

“You okay sweetheart?” He asks as he slides his fingers out of you and lowers your leg so your foot is back on the floor of the shower. “Did so good you always do so good for me.” His sweet words have a lazy smile working its way onto your face as he moves his lips lower down your chest, he moves to his knees as his hands gently work your legs apart. “Just need a little taste baby.” He mumbles against the warm skin of your inner thigh before the flat of his tongue is licking up the front of your soaked center.

“Harry.” Your voice is strained as you grip his shoulders to help keep you balanced as his tongue slides through your wet folds making him moan against you as the taste of his arousal mixed with yours hits his tongue.

“Sorry baby-just needed a taste it’s okay I’ve got you.” He says softly as he rises back to his feet, his hands cup your face as he looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” He smiles when your cheeks get a deep flush to them. “And amazing.” He says before kissing your cheek. “And wonderful.” His lips move over to your other cheek. “And perfect.” He finishes with a kiss to your forehead making you let out a soft giggle as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me I’m just stating facts.” You smile and lean into his touch as he stares at you with a look that makes the whole moment feel extremely intimate. “You know there’s no rush on finding a job right? I’m happy to take care of you for as long as you want and those guys are absolute idiots for not hiring you.”

“I know.” You answer with a smile as his thumbs gently run up and down your cheek bones.

“Good.” He leans in and kisses the tip of your nose because he turns to look at the water falling from the shower head in the ceiling just a little ways away from them. “Now since we are already in the shower I hope this means you won’t be a pouty little mess while I clean you up.”

“As long as I don’t have to move from this spot I’m fine.”

“Of course Princess just stand right there and I’ll take care of the rest.” He shoots you a playful wink as he steps away from you so he can grab a washcloth. “As usual.” He adds with a smirk making you roll your eyes but your smile never leaves your face because it never gets old how Harry can go from being so filthy with you to being so sweet and silly, it’s something that shows how well he knows you and how he is always able to be exactly what you need him to be. As you watch him take his time as he gently runs the cloth over your skin his eyes glance up to meet yours and the look he gives you makes your heart race because it’s one you’ve never seen before, it makes you wonder if in this moment the two of you are beginning to cross that invisible line between bestfriends and something else, but then he blinks a few times and looks away making your heart sink low into your chest.

Harry officially can say he is avoiding you, it’s been a handful of days since you spent the night at his house after your job interview. He knows something shifted during his shower with you, it makes his insides all twisted up because he begins to think about how it’s the feelings you haven’t shared with him at least while sober and his own feelings for you that turned what he intended to just be a regular interaction with you into something more passionate and meaningful. But he’s worried, scared that maybe the shift he felt was just one sided and instead of risking talking about it and potentially losing you he does something so incredibly unlike himself, he starts to ignore you. He stops answering your texts or calls and he knows it’s wrong, he knows he is being the worst version of himself but he just can’t bring himself to talk to you because he knows everything he’s been feeling lately will come spewing out and he’s just not ready to talk about it, at least not yet.

He looks down at his phone to see the time as he stands off to the side of the bar at a crowded party he rsvp’d to months ago, having also checked the box for a plus one figuring that you’d accompany him but seeing as he hasn’t been the best friend let alone sugar daddy to you recently he didn’t bother reaching out to check if you still wanted to come. He lets out a sigh when he sees the party hasn’t even been going on for an hour, meaning he still needs to stay and make it look like he cared enough to at least the hour and a half mark. As he slides his phone into the pocket of his black dress pants he hears a very familiar voice that has his breath hitching and his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage.

“I told you they’d let you in.” He can tell you’re smiling just by the way your voice sounds and it has Harry lifting his head and craning his neck to try to find you and when he does he feels his heart drop because you’re not alone.

“Well of course they let me in it doesn’t change the fact I still wasn’t invited.” Zayn says with a huff as Harry watches your hand slip into his so you can lead him through the crowd. “What’s this party even for anyway? Bit posh for-”

“I think it’s to save some sort of animal or something to do with animals.” You explain as you stop at the bar, the same bar that Harry is currently standing next to. His eyes land on Zayn, hating how good he looks in his well fitted suit and hair styled perfectly with that one strand falling down over his forehead, he must be able to feel Harry’s presence as he looks over to his left and catches Harry’s hard glare.

“Uh babe Har-” Zayn looks away from Harry and taps your shoulder a few times as he tries to tell you who he sees but you cut him off.

“What do you want to drink? They have sparkling water or-”

“I don’t need anythin’ but for you to look over there and-”

“Look over where-oh.” Harry’s heart skips a beat when your eyes find his, your mouth falls open and your cheeks turn pink and for a moment he thinks it’s because you’re embarrassed but when you brush Zayn’s hand off your arm as you take a step in Harry’s direction he quickly realizes the flush to your cheeks and neck isn’t from embarrassment it’s from anger.

“I uh didn’t think-”

“That seems to be something you’ve doing a lot lately. The whole not thinking thing.” Your voice is harsh as you cut his sentence short and stand right in front of him with a dark look in your eyes he hasn’t seen in years. “Now you better find us somewhere to talk or I’ll let this whole party know what kind of asshole they invited.” He just nods as he turns on his heels and walks towards a hallway he saw a few doors on. You cross your arms over your chest as you stand at the end of it and watch him check each room until he finds one that seems suitable for the conversation the two of you are about to have.

“A closet? Really?”

“The other options were the kitchen or a bathroom and I figured the bathroom would cause more interruptions.”

“Whatever.” You snap as Harry holds the door open for you so you can enter the rather large hall closet that has a shelf with boardgames on it and a few random jackets hanging towards the back.

“Uhm you look lovely I like that dress a lot.” Harry’s voice gives away his nerves as he closes the door behind him, effectively closing the two of you in the space that suddenly seems too small to hold all the unspoken words that are hanging between the two of you.

“Thanks. You bought it.” Your words make Harry fight off the urge to smile, enjoying the fact that even though he’s been a shitty friend you’re still at least using his cards to buy yourself nice things. “Now I just need you to stand there while I get some things off my chest okay? Don’t interrupt or give me any silly looks with your annoying face just-”

“Do-do you want me to face the door then? Because I can’t change how my face looks.”

“Actually that would be great.” He raises an eyebrow at you as if you can’t seriously expect him to face the door but when you place a hand on your hip and narrow your eyes at him he realizes you’re serous.

“Uh okay.” He mumbles as he turns around so his back is facing you and his eyes are glued to the back of the door that has a random assortment of scarves and ties hanging from hooks that are attached to it. He hears you let out a deep breath and he can practically see your hands clasping together in front of you so you can mess with the ring on your index finger, something he knows you do when you’re extra anxious about something and it makes him feel another crack form in his heart knowing that he’s the one making you feel nervous and anxious.

“I know something changed between us the day I showed up at your house.” Your voice is only slightly shaky, something no one else besides him and maybe the man you came to this party with would be able to pick up on. “And I know you felt it because you haven’t talked to me sense and-and god Harry how could you just not talk to me for four whole days as if-as if I’m just some random person and not your bestfriend? How are we supposed to fix this if you don’t talk to me? Or-or is this your way of saying you don’t want to fix it and you rather just be done with me as a friend and as-”

“That’s not it at-”

“I’m not finished.” You cut him off harshly making him swallow thickly as he hears the emotion in your voice. “If you needed time then you could’ve told me you know you could’ve told me and I would’ve understood. But this? This I don’t get because this isn’t you. You don’t ignore the people you care about especially after-” He hears you sniffle and it takes everything in him not to turn around but he knows that’ll just upset you even more. “After you make them feel like the most important person on the planet. You don’t do that Harry. You don’t get to ignore me after making me feel like that it’s-it’s wrong and rude and- and just mean.” Your voice is thick with emotion as you sniffle and let out a frustrated sigh as Harry hears what he knows is the sound of your hands falling to your sides in what he can only assume is defeat as you pour out all your frustrations and feelings about how he’s treated you over the last four days.

“You-you can turn around now.” You tell him and for a moment he hesitates, afraid of what heartbroken version of you he’ll see once he turns and faces you.

“I’m sorry.” He lets the words slip out of his mouth as he turns around and is face to face with you, the girl he’s in love with but somehow managed to break before he even had the chance to tell you how he felt. Your eyes are watery and your bitting down on your bottom lip to try to hide the fact it’s trembling but he sees it, of course he sees it he’s your bestfriend and knows all the little things you do when you’re upset.

“Is that it? Or-”

“You’re right something did change that day but something also changed before that or at least for me it did.” He shoves his hands into his pockets as he looks down at his feet. “I realized when I heard you tell Cindy that I was just Harry your fiend that-that I don’t want to be just your friend or your-sugar daddy I want to be something more because I-I’m in love with you.” He hears you let out a small gasp but he doesn’t dare look up he just swallows the lump in his throat and keeps going. “And it just so happens that’s the same night you drunkenly told me you fell for me too and-and fuck I wish you wouldn’t have told me that because I knew you weren’t going to remember and I just had to carry this secret around and I felt so guilty every time you’d try-try to touch me because I knew how you felt and I didn’t want to take advantage of that or have you feel like I was taking advantage of that-but then you came over and didn’t get the job.” He lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair while lifting his head up so he can finally look at you.

“And everything changed.” He takes a small step towards you, not wanting to make you feel overwhelmed. “It felt different like we were just two lovers making up for lost time and-and it scared me because I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you and yet I did the dumbest thing possible and just ignored you and I’m so sorry. I am so so sorry.” He feels his eyes burn with unshed tears and when you reach your hands out as you close the gap between the two of you he feels as if his heart begin to race.

“It felt different because it was different.” You tell him as you cup the sides of his face with your hands, he feels a few tears roll down his cheeks as you look up at him with rounded eyes. “That was the first time we were together as two people who know they love the other one in a way that’s not exactly friendly.” Your thumbs wipe away the tears from his face as he sniffles and tries to get control of his emotions.

“I do you know? Love you. I love you so much.” He watches a smile take over your face as you pull him down towards you so you can brush your lips against his, his arms wrap around your waist tightly as if he doesn’t want to risk you being able to get away from him.

“I love you too Harry.” You say once you pull away from him, he feels as if his heart is going to burst and the grin that takes over his face is going to be there permanently as you tell him the words he’s been longing to hear from you without the influence of a few dirty martinis.

“Do you forgive me? For being a dumb asshole?”

“Yes I forgive you.” You smile as he presses his lips to your cheeks as your arms loosely wrap around his neck. “What do we do now? How is this going to work with our current situation?”

“Oh that’s simple baby.” He pulls back so he can look you in your eyes. “You just let me keep taking care of you.” He answers making you let out a chuckle as he leans down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah? Just let you take care of me forever huh? Never work again or anything just have you pay my way through life?” You tease but Harry just mumbles a quiet yes as he kisses at the soft skin of your neck. “Are you still my sugar-”

“I’m your boyfriend.” He answers cutting off the rest of the question he already knew was coming as he pulls away from your neck. “Who just so happens to be crazy rich and willing to pay for anything and everything you want or need to be happy.” You laugh and roll your eyes as he gives your hips a playful squeeze.

“You’re horrible.”

“Yeah but you love me for it.” You look up at him and give him a smile as you nod your head.

“Yeah. I do.” Harry smiles as he leans down and places a kiss to your lips that feels a lot like a first kiss, because this one is full of love leaving the both of you breathless when he pulls away.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Harry.” He places a kiss to your forehead making you smile. “Now come on I need a drink and we still have twenty minutes until we can leave.”

“Already counting down the minutes till you can get me home huh?”

“Yes.” Is all you say as you wiggle out of his hold and grab the doorknob. “Oh and you also bought me these shoes.” You tell him as you slide your foot out from under your full length gown.

“Is it wrong that I get turned on knowing you spent my money while mad at me?”

“You’re such a freak.” Harry just shrugs as you laugh and open the door of the closet allowing the two of you to go back to the party.

“Nineteen minutes.” He mumbles into your ear as he stands behind you at the bar. You laugh as you lean into him as his hands find your hips giving them soft squeezes and it feels so natural, being like this with him that you can’t help but silently thank whatever lucky stars took you to that sketchy website all those weeks ago. Because if you wouldn’t have filled out that little profile you wouldn’t be here, standing at the bar at a party with your bestfriend that also now just so happens to be your boyfriend.

[kisseobie]

car sex w/ piwon? them dropping you off to your house after hanging out at the dorms at night, and you start staring at their hands gripping the wheel for a bit long.. and things just develop (im a car girl don't blame me 🙏)

car sex with p1harmony

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: car sex is one of my biggest kinks so i’m def not judging girl :P oh also i’m dedicating this to my new bff @whimperly go support bella’s blog

listening to: diet pepsi by addison rae ♪

✶ keeho

kyo would look soooo delectable driving, especially late at night. you’re fighting sleep, the streetlights bright and hazy. he’s on aux, blasting sensual songs and humming along, reversing with his arm draped on your headrest for support, leaning his head back and driving with one hand. your window is down, your head peeking out slightly to bask in the cool air hitting your face, getting drunk on the feeling. you glance at your boyfriend and he catches it, smirking at you before turning his attention back to the road—but you can’t focus on anything but him. the air in the car is different now, you both already know where this is heading. when he eventually pulls into your driveway and halts the car, you’re wasting no time and pulling him into a needy kiss, whimpering out a crazed “i need you, kyo”, to which he just replies “bet” and gets to fucking work.

fucks you deep in the backseat of his fancy car, gives no care in the world for the mess you both are making, just wants to pound into your pussy until you’re whining out his name. the music is still on, ac on full blast, but it does nothing to prevent his sweat dripping onto your bare chest with every deep thrust of his practiced hips. after a few rounds of lovemaking i’d imagine he’d just lay with you, pulling your back to meet his chest, playing with your hair and stroking your tummy so sweetly <33 you two would quite literally get lost in each other

✶ theo

for yangie i’d imagine you both would be at a drive inn theatre date, the movie long forgotten as you’d be more preoccupied in swapping spit in his backseat. he’s wearing that leather jacket you oh so love, hair long and groomed and simple studs adorning his ears… tl:dr—he looks fine. at first it would start innocent, theo kissing your cheek as you got lost in the plot of the film, but he’d eventually grow bored and start sucking into the nape of your neck, not missing the way you’d rub your thighs together at the contact. after an impromptu makeout session, he’d whisper some shit into your ear about finding you much more interesting than the movie, and you couldn’t help but agree, wanting to see where this would lead the two of you.

so where did you both end up? fucking like rabbits in the back of his car of course! the movie had already ended, parking lot of the outdoor theatre now completely vacant, but the two of you don’t really notice, not when theo has your legs draped over his shoulders as he slams into your puffy cunt, thumb circling against your clit so harshly you feel lightheaded. he’s grunting so fucking loud, pupils blown out with lust as he just thrusts and thrusts, despite already cumming a few times. the car is foggy with the stench of sex, cherry cola slurpees, and theo’s cologne. you’re sobbing, tears drooping down the sides of your face and puddling against your ears, hair, and of course, his car seats. it’s just soooooo gross and so animalistic but he can’t stop :(

✶ jiung

eats you out, knee deep.. in the passenger seat (thank u chappell roan). i feel like he’d be all horny at the dorms, but wouldn’t do anything about it because he knows you two aren’t alone in the space (def is uncharacteristically handsy though). it doesn’t help that he hasn’t fucked you in weeks because of how hectic group promotions have been, and that you came over to the dorms wearing the tiniest little skirt he’s ever seen. when it’s time for you to leave, he doesn’t turn the car on, doesn’t pull out of the dorm driveway before occupying your space, kissing you deep and descending down to your legs. the tight space is cramped for sure, but he doesn’t really give a fuck, not when he has you above him, panties wet and in his line of vision. presses little kisses onto your clothed pussy, loving the way you’re already pulling at his hair and mewling at such little contact.

eats you out so slowly it makes you insane, no amount of you begging him to “just fuck me already!” halting the lazy way he devours your cunt like it’s his last meal. after all, he deserves this after working so hard, so just shut up and take it :( isn’t mean enough to not fuck you though, he’s not strong enough to dismiss your begging forever. doesn’t bring you to the backseat like you’d expect, he just towers over you and fucks you right into the passenger seat. complains cutely the next day that he’s cramped and sore, but it was worth it ^_^

✶ intak

lovesssss car sex to the point where you’re already anticipating it everytime you two are on a drive alone. it just makes him feel so dirty in the best of ways, the way he can’t control himself around you, the way your pussy squeezes his dick in a vice grip with every thrust, how his cum drips out of you onto his leather seats. i also imagine intak would want to film himself fucking you in his backseat, giving you the nastiest backshots known to man as he makes eye contact with the camera, smirking at how you attempt to hide your face in embarrassment. definitely talks you through it, especially when you ask so kindly to ride him in the backseat :P praises you for taking his dick so well, for letting him fuck you somewhere where anyone could find you both.

his favorite sight though? definitely the image of your bare tits pressed against his windows when he’s pounding into your sloppy cunny. makes him feel like the man, for sure. and on the rare occasion that you’re the one asking to fuck in his car? he’s so giddy, knowing that he’s corrupted his little princess and turned her into a cockwhore :D

✶ soul

i can’t write this prompt for soul and not include the reader giving him head! you’d just be sooo appreciative and full of love for your boyfriend sho, he was so nice to you today, bought your entire saved cart on your favorite online shopping site, purposely let you win when playing smash bros with you, ordered takeout to his dorm and hand fed you :( you feel the need to thank him, to reward him for being such a sweetie pie, and what says thank you better than some sloppy toppy? he’d be sososo shy, begging you to let him park before you unbuckle his pants but you’re too desperate to make him feel good!! when he parks into your driveway he lets go of his coy attitude, fully fists your hair and pushes your head against the base of his cock to the point where you’re loudly gagging against his shaft. when you pull up for some much-needed air you’re beaming at him, giving him the widest smile and wasting no time in dropping back down to your previous position.

i can practically hear shota praising you with a satisfied “atta girl, suck this fucking cock”, cumming into your mouth, and roughly fingering you afterwards as thanks for being such a thoughtful girlfriend :O

✶ jongseob

this def isn’t for everyone but i’m so obsessed with the idea of jongseob being your dealer and boyfriend all in one. he’d drive you to some empty park late at night, would smoke a few pre-rolls with you on the abandoned swings, and get horny and lead you back to his car. the pair of you are stumbling into the backseat, dizzy and giggly, making out with urgency (and some sloppiness) and peeling off each others clothes until you’re both fully naked. ride him while he lights up another joint, it’d be sooo sexy. oh and of course he’d let you take the first puff, would gladly let you grab at his face afterwards and push the smoke into his mouth before crashing your plump lips against his. the effects of the weed has your hips slightly uncoordinated, but none of you really care. seob would smack your ass as encouragement too :3

like keeho, i think afterwards you’d both just lay there, fully bare, cuddling, kissing, and smoking in a comfortable silence. maybe even nap until seob is okay to drive you back home <3 and like i always say, i’m convinced he’d take some polaroid of you, sat on his cock, smoking a joint and staring at the camera all slutty ..

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @dprvivi @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain @tkooooop @taehyux

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

✶ <3

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

dedicated to ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

summary: you, an author, get invited to a talk show for your first novel, but there’s a surprise in store for you.

⋆ ★ ln x reader ░

⋆ ★ fluff + humour ░

masterlist ☾☼

your first novel was a huge success.

a dream come true for you.

it wasn't just the success part really. it was everything. from writing, editing, cover options, editing again, and then publishing. the process was exhausting but so, so fulfilling.

your book had also caused quite a craze among the formula one fans. you had an inkling why that may be. maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with your dedication.

Dedicated to Lando Norris, my green flag inspiration.

yeah, it was definitely because of that.

since you were an indie author, it was absolutely crazy to you when you were invited on a talk show to discuss your book!! the day you'd received the news, you had jumped on the bed! and then promptly fell to the floor, but that's fine.

on the day of your big day (!!), you had dressed up, listened to the encouraging voice notes your boyfriend had sent, since he was working, and then found yourself at the venue a half hour early.

you were excited, who's gonna sue you for that?

they'd gotten you to hair and make up, and they had attached a collar mic and they explained all the rules to you. god there were so many rules. why were there so many rules?

and then they were live!

you stood behind the curtains, watching as the talk show host welcomed the audience, made some jokes, and everyone laughed. you watched as they eventually took their seat, and began introducing your book without naming it. adding in a little touch of their own personal stories to make it relatable.

and then the host brought out your book, and announced your name, and the audience cheered! behind you, the assistant pushed you forward.

with a deep breath, you stepped forward and on set. the crowd cheered louder and you smiled and waved.

"welcome, y/n!" the host said as you sat on the couch beside their couch.

you were glad the interview was in a slightly informal setting. it relaxed your nerves a little bit. the host themselves were sitting with their legs on the couch, tucked underneath them.

"hi! i'm so glad you could make it!" the host greeted you.

“i’m so glad i got invited in the first place! this is like a dream come true!” you exclaimed.

the crowd chuckled, clearly endeared by your excitement.

“now, i have to know, how did you get in the process of writing? according to my research, or stalking to be more accurate-” the audience laughed, as did you, “-you studied psychology?”

“actually, i’m still studying psychology. i’ve been working to get into sports psychology specifically. but um, i’ve always enjoyed writing, i’m always writing poems and short stories and stuff. when the idea for this book struck me, it was like the words had taken over my body and day and night i was only writing,”

“how did you get the idea for the book? like, what was your process?”

you sat up straighter, you loved talking about your book and all the things about the process. “i actually got an idea for the characters first. like, i made a character sketch for my main protagonists, and some of the side characters, and then i came up with a plot to suit the characters,”

“that’s usually not how it’s done, right? i’ve interviewed other authors before, and they’ve always come up with the plot first,”

“it’s definitely unconventional. for the longest time, my editor thought i was just lying about writing the book myself. she genuinely thought i had a ghost writer, because my process was just so weird,” you said, laughing a little bit.

“well, we certainly do know the inspiration behind your male main character,” the host teased, as your cheeks reddened, and the crowd broke out in synchronised “oooohs”

you laughed, shifting a little on the couch, “do we now?”

the host, who was still holding the book with the cover facing the audience, opened the book to the dedication page. turning to you, they said, “now, i’m a little old. so i can’t read very well-” the crowd broke out in scattered laughter, “-but could you read what it says right here?” they pointed to the text.

your smile widened and you said-you didn’t even have to read it-you said, “dedicated to lando norris, my green flag inspiration,”

the crowd burst out in cheers.

“do you know who lando norris is?” the host asked.

you made a confused face and exclaimed, “why would i add his name if i didn’t know who he was?”

the crowd laughed, as did the host, “no, no, no, i meant like, do you know him personally? like, beyond formula one? because why else would you add him as your green flag inspiration?”

“i actually- okay, i’ve been a huge fan of formula one all my life. like, i have weekends blocked on race days and stuff. and it was during one of his interviews- i don’t even remember which race it was- but there was a female interviewer-”

“oh, i’ve seen that clip!” the host said suddenly, jumping slightly.

“oh my god, you have? i love that clip!” turning to the audience, you explained, “there was a female interviewer who asked like, a really smart question about the car and the strategies and how it’s gonna help the team and all of that. it was during the championship battle between max and lando, and lando had complimented the interviewer and said that she always asks the best questions around. and then, a male interviewer who was standing right there called lando a liar and basically insinuated that lando wanted to-” you glanced slightly awkwardly towards the host as you spoke animatedly.

“wanted to sleep with her, yeah,” the host supplied. okay, good, so that was appropriate for you to say.

“yeah, exactly, and lando was just like no, that’s not true, i’m not lying-”

“and that was it for you? that gave birth to your male main character?”

“yeah. that was it for me. that gave birth to my male main character,”

the host kept the book down as the crowd cheered.

"well, y/n," the host started.

turning your entire attention on them, you said, "yes,"

"we've got a little surprise for you,"

"is it going to be someone jumping from somewhere because i don't want that surprise, i'm very happy without a surprise," you said, your eyes comically large.

the crowd laughed.

"we wanted to do that. your surprise said that they won't be able to do it without laughing, so then, we decided not to do that,"

you put your hands together and looked up at the ceiling, "thank you, surprise guest!"

the host laughed along with the crowd. you smiled.

standing, the host announced, "everyone! please welcome! lando norris!"

the crowd let out loud cheers and some even stood.

you stood as well. "what?" you screamed, though it was drowned by the deafening noise of the audience.

the doors opened, the same ones from where you entered, and lando norris walked in. he smiled and he waved. and when he looked at you- you with your hands covering your mouth, eyes tracking his every movement- he winked.

after shaking his hand with his host, he finally turned towards you.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, still not over your shock.

he wrapped an arm around your waist with ease, as you wrapped yours around your neck.

"i'm here to be your surprise guest!" he said, as he pulled back.

"this wasn't on the calendar!"

"i know. i had jon put it on his calendar, cause i knew i would forget it,"

the two of you were still standing in the middle of the stage, arms around each other, though yours had travelled down to settle at his torso, while his remained at your waist.

"is that why you had an early morning training session?" you asked.

"yeah, had to make sure i'm not late for this," he said, still smiling.

"as much as i'm loving the discussion of calendars and training sessions, i am really confused here," the host interrupted, and lando and you finally broke apart.

the two of you settled on the couch, side by side. thighs pressed together, but the hands to yourselves.

"now, what is this about a calendar?" they asked.

"we share one," lando answered simply.

"why?"

"because we live together," you answered.

"right. again, why?"

"people who love each other live together," lando explained like the host was five.

"who love each other?"

"we love each other." you said, using your thumb to point at lando and then you.

the host stared for a few seconds. lando and you looked around awkwardly during that time.

"so, what i'm hearing is that you two-" they pointed at the two of you, "-y/n y/l/n and lando norris love each other and live together and share a calendar,"

"yeah, it's just easier. with my constantly changing schedules, and y/n doing university and writing, its easier to just block time on our calendar so that neither of us really disturbs the other," lando said.

"right right. you two love each other and live together and share a calendar," the host repeated again.

leaning forward, you touched their arm, "are you okay?"

"do i look okay? no! i planned to surprise you!"

"i am surprised!" you defended yourself while lando laughed quietly in the background.

"but you two love each other and live-"

"-live together and share a calendar, yes," lando and you completed the sentence in unison.

the audience laughed.

"hold on, since when has this been going on?" the host asked.

you and lando exchanged a look, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair, "five years," you answered. lando nodded.

"five?" the host burst out.

"yeah,"

"how did you two meet?"

"he was driving, i was there to watch, i crashed into him, poured burning hot coffee all over his fireproofs and bam! we fell in love," you said.

"your delivery is so deadpanned, that i really can't tell whether this is true or not," the host said.

laughing, you leaned into lando, who pressed a kiss against your forehead, "well, the world just found out we've been together. gotta make them wait a little bit, stretch it out," lando said, laughing.

the conversation moved smoothly from there. they spoke about lando's career, and your career, and the three of you made jokes, and read snippets from your book, and lando laughed his high pitched laugh while holding your book, and honestly, right there was your dream come true.

later, after it was over, both you and lando were in the process of getting the mics removed, and everything. the two of you thanked everyone who had been a part of the process, and just before you two left, the host jogged towards you, a slip in their hand.

"this is my personal number. we're going to sit down and talk about all the tea i'm missing here," they said.

you graciously accepted the slip of number, laughing, and lando thanked them for the opportunity and said that they would call soon. bidding goodbye, the two to you began walking to lando's car.

his arm wrapped around your shoulder, "good day?"

you leaned up, pecking his lips, "perfect day,"

as the two of you settled in his car, you suddenly smacked his arm and said, "i can't believe you didn't tell me!"

lando laughed.

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

i really enjoyed writing this one! also, for me, the host was a mix of jimmy fallon and drew barrymore, idk if i got their energies across. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (5)

Summary: Terry and Patrice enjoy each other with the promise of bright future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4.9k

Part: 5 of 5

Warnings: Smut (18+), NSFW

A/N: Thanks so much for joining me on this ride. I hope the journey turns out to be worth it.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four.

“Uh, my name is Terry, I’m from North Carolina, and I wanna dedicate this one to my lady over there in the orange dress. You look good, girl.” 

“Oh no.”

“Sing your song, baby!”

A mix of encouragement and admiration at Terry’s public display of affection rang out in a poorly lit karaoke bar in the French Quarter. Liquor, good food, and good people were the perfect mix for a good time with the vestiges of Summer break rapidly slipping away. Terry stood on stage with a goofy grin and low eyes, pointing everyone toward his favorite audience member. 

Patrice had never been so embarrassed in her life. When she’d dared him to do something crazy on the last night of their spontaneous vacation, she thought he’d finally get that tattoo of her name on his ribs like he promised way back when. Singing in front of a crowd of rowdy strangers wasn’t on her bingo card.

Her hands covered her mouth to muffle her near-uncontrollable laughter. 

Terry couldn’t sing. At least not well enough to give a tipsy rendition of Patrice’s favorite Usher record. She still remembered forcing Terry to listen to Raymond v. Raymond over and over again in her cramped bedroom, many times not getting past Track 3 without gushing over how she hoped to marry the R&B heartthrob one day. Terry secretly carried a deep disdain for Usher up until his mid-20s, but couldn’t dodge the memories any time “There Goes My Baby” would play and take him right back to that cramped bedroom with his dream girl. 

He started just as Patrice expected. Though he knew the words like the back of his hand, his pitchy tenor was a far cry from the vocals needed to properly serenade an audience. He didn’t care though. As long as he could pull a belly laugh from Patrice he’d make a fool of himself in public every time. 

Between the second verse and bridge, Terry decided to take his antics up a notch. He abandoned the stage to make a beeline for Patrice with the mic in hand for a personal show. She was sure to play into the bit with playful hoops and fake screams between giggles. When he was close enough to touch, she pretended to fangirl like she was front row at one of Usher’s Vegas shows. 

“Baby, lovin’ you feels better than everything, anything. Put it on my heart, you gon’ get a ring,” he sang, spontaneously remixing the lyrics so far off-key that, if not for the levity of the ordeal, he’d surely offend every music lover in a 50-mile radius. “And I promise, our time away didn’t change my love.” 

Completely enamored with the absurdity of the moment, Patrice ran her fingertips across Terry’s abdomen underneath his shirt like a crazed fan and winked. Terry acknowledged the dangerous line she was toeing by flashing her a flirtatious grin to match the seductive sparkle in his eyes. 

Their connection overrode Terry’s awful singing performance enough for the crowd to show support through an assortment of cheers and supportive hollers only a city full of spirited Black people could provide. 

Always the perfect gentleman, Terry bid Patrice farewell for a moment with a peck on the cheek before returning to the stage to cap a truly unexpected performance and receive thunderous applause. 

“Oooo-weee. That’s your man, love? I’m talking official official?” The middle-aged tourist’s question and her thick accent interrupted Patrice’s daydreaming while she watched Terry’s every move with part of her bottom lip caught by her top row of teeth. 

“Yeah,” she answered, finally tearing her gaze away to acknowledge the woman while fiddling with the opal necklace he’d gifted her at dinner. It was the necklace symbolizing their first real date and the end of their friends only arrangement. “That’s him. Ain’t he somethin’?” 

“Somethin’ ain’t the word. I might need to head on up to North Carolina and get me one of them. My God today!” 

“He’s got a cute little single friend out in Percyville if you down with our Asian brothers. Former Marine too.” 

“You got a picture?” 

The two women fell into conversation about Ken’s availability while Patrice waited for Terry to rejoin her side. He soon returned with two shots of tequila in hand and a smile fighting to be freed from behind his poker face. 

“What was that about,” he asked, nodding at the woman who’d begun to show her friends photos of her potential beau as he placed a shot in front of Patrice.

“Might’ve gotten Ken somebody to take him out of the streets. You know he like ‘em thick and fine.” 

“I taught my boy a few things.” He used the hand closest to Patrice to breach the split in her dress and grip her inner thigh. He maintained contact, waiting for her to get shy and shoo him away. 

But she didn’t. She met his show of dominance with one of her own and crossed her legs to keep him in place, keeping him close to the pulse at her center. Two could play the secret foreplay game.

“What’s that about,” she asked, pointing at his gift of top-shelf reposado and ignoring the flutter in her stomach once he began rubbing slow circles on the top of her thigh with his thumb.

He smirked. “A little something to toast with.” 

“Oooh. What’re we celebrating?” 

“Being free, being together, and…” He lifted his shot glass, prompting Patrice to follow suit. 

“And what, TJ! C’mon!” 

“And…I got the job.” He followed his surprise by taking his shot, finishing with a quiet laugh while watching Patrice sit in unblinking shock. He squeezed her thigh again. “Don’t let me drink alone now. Bottoms up.” 

Shock gave way to a soft squeal and tiny, animated hand claps before Patrice took her gulp of tequila. Excitement had her rushing to swallow so that she could pull Terry into a series of quick kisses across his face. 

“I’m proud of you,” she complimented against his lips. “Tell me about it.” 

She stole another kiss to taste the remnants of buffalo sauce and alcohol on Terry’s tongue. He let her explore uninhibited until she’d had enough. If she wanted to put on a show, he’d be a willing participant. Even more so in the privacy of the Airbnb that belonged them to until sunrise.

The sexual tension had reached a tipping point and the clock was ticking. Images of her body beneath his were starting to be the only thoughts Terry could concoct.

Terry’s face was completely flushed, usually even caramel skin now red from lust and one too many drinks. A slow, tipsy grin put all his teeth on display before he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. 

“We can talk about that later. Can we get out of here right now, though.” 

“Yeah? Why?” 

Patrice assumed they were having a good time with at least one more stop on their self-guided nightlife tour. His eagerness to abandon plans was uncharacteristic. 

Terry continued to smile then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I really wanna make you cum tonight. You been waiting too long.”

A shiver hit Patrice’s spine as she tried to maintain some level of composure in a room full of people. Terry easily pushed her thighs open to free his hand, being sure to brush against her lower lips with the tips of his fingers. 

Terry didn’t need to speak when he stood to pull her chair back from the table. Patrice allowed him to tug her to her feet and out of the bar, waving goodbye to her new friend who gave her a congratulatory thumbs up. 

However, any morsel of confidence she had while they made out like teenagers in the backseat of a taxi had waned once they reached their dwelling for the night and the reality of their situation set in. 

Their first time together was her first time. She was young with too many influences in her ear telling her that the only way to make a man love her was through her body. No matter how many times Terry assured her that they could spend that truly imporable hour of alone time in her hotel room catching up, she insisted that they test the boundaries of their affection. 

Now, with history repeating itself, she couldn’t help but feel a deep pit of nervousness and uncertainty growing in her belly. 

Patrice stood in the bathroom mirror, tussling with her hair that had gone from pressed roots to a mess of frizz and curled ends. She suddenly hated the way her cotton slip dress fit and how the lace bra and panty set seemed to bunch in all the wrong places. The only thing she wanted to do was look like the woman of his dreams, but her confidence was waning with every second she spent judging her appearance while Terry waited patiently in the bedroom. Frustration was building and bringing the sting of fresh tears to her eyes.

On the other side of the door, Terry spent his time adjusting and readjusting the pillows on the bed. His bare back and shoulders glistened under the soft, warm light emanating from the floor lamp across the room, partially from the heat, but mostly from sheer nervousness. 

“What the fuck are you doing,” he whispered to himself, suddenly embarrassed. 

Terry forced himself to take a seat at the edge of the bed to calm his nerves. The last time he’d been on the brink of having her in this way, he was a young man with no clue how to love a woman. Now, all he wanted to do was prove that he’d earn every morsel of her trust back if she let him. 

He never told Patrice that their first time was his first time. He was scared out of his mind, wanting to give in to his fantasies but afraid to send the wrong impression. The memory of that summer afternoon never left him. But, it was time to start anew with a title and the promise of a different result on the horizon.

Taking a deep breath, Terry wiped his sweaty palms against the soft fabric of his briefs and sighed. 

“You okay in there,” he called out, concerned as the minutes ticked by with no communication. “I don’t wanna rush you. Just checking in. Tell me to leave you alone if I’m doing too much.” 

“I’m okay. One second. I’m fixin’ my hair.”

“Take your time. I’m sure you look…”

The soft sound of the door opening stopped Terry mid-sentence. Patrice stepped out, one foot in front of the other, until she was past the threshold and under his doting gaze. 

“...gorgeous,” he finished, the word coming out in one breath. “You are absolutely gorgeous, Treece.” 

Patrice had decided on a bun on top of her head with tendrils in the front and back that couldn’t quite reach the rest of her hair. She’d traded her light makeup for a bare face still glowing from her nighttime skin routine. Her slip dress clung and dipped in all the right places without the lace from her lingerie interrupting the smooth fabric. She looked at him through long lashes, her expression reading as the same timid girl from all those years ago.

Terry stood to his full height in reverence of her breathtaking form. The most skilled artists and creators from around the world couldn’t have dreamt of a more captivating marvel in his opinion. She was the pinnacle of beauty. 

Patrice watched him draw closer, her head slowly tilting up as he began to dwarf her with his stature. He reached out to trace her jaw before lightly gripping her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey, yourself.”

Goofy smiles and giggles followed their awkward introduction to ease the anxious energy in the room.

“Is Terrence James Richmond nervous behind little ol’ me,” she teased with a tickle to his sides. 

“I got a few butterflies, I’m not gon’ lie,” he laughed. “Just wanna make you happy, is all.” 

“I was gonna say the same to you.” 

“You have no idea how happy you make me.” 

His voice came in just above a whisper, nearly drowned out by the chirping of crickets outside. 

Their noses brushed against each other as Patrice stood on her tip-toes to rest her arms around his neck. Her fingers traced circles at his nape, making the hair all over his body stand at attention. 

A tentative peck connected their lips and gave way to more needy, hungry kisses that transformed them into eager teenagers making out for the thrill of physical contact. 

Euphoria wasn’t enough to explain Terry’s headspace. He was high off every kiss, lick, and bite Patrice allowed. He couldn’t get close enough. It wasn’t sufficient to pull her closer with a firm grasp on her ass. He needed to taste her, to be consumed by her, to consume her in every way possible. 

“Put me to work. Tell me what you need,” he whispered, breathless as blood began to rush south from the slight pain of Patrice’s fingernails digging into his shoulder blades. 

“You. Fold me, bend me, flip me, I don’t care. I just need you.” 

Patrice was far beyond playing coy. She’d drop to her knees and beg at his feet if he asked. Whatever she had to do to feel him from the inside was on the table. 

Terry didn’t make Patrice go to extremes for his affection. He preferred to acknowledge her request by carefully sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders and arms. 

He watched her skin become more and more exposed with intense focus, taking note of the way her nipples seemed to salute him once they met the bedroom air. He acknowledged both of them with a soft caress that earned a whimper from Patrice as she watched him handle her with care.

Never in her life had been methodically unwrapped like a present on Christmas morning. Her heartbeat had gone below her waist, throbbing in an almost painful cry for her lover’s attention. Terry kept her yearning at bay with a slow kiss while he pushed her garment past her hips and to the floor. 

Patrice disrobed him with an equal measure of care, offering quick kisses across the expanse of his chest while she slid her hand past his Calvin Klein waistband. Round, doe eyes looked back up at him to catch the precise moment when Terry’s eyelids blinked closed from the sensation of her fingertips brushing past his sensitive tip. 

Her soft palms worked his shaft - up and down, up and down - until his member was proud and bobbing from the weight of itself without something keeping it at bay. 

Fearing what might happen if he let her continue, Terry pulled her back to his body for sensual openmouthed kisses on her full lips. The soft smack of their lips and tongues created perfect harmonies in the still room, communicating more desire than either of them could effectively vocalize. 

The intensity began to rise at exponential rates, sending them in a clumsy frenzy to the bed for somewhere stable to fully experience one another. Terry’s back hit the cool cotton sheets first with Patrice collapsing on top with a surprised yelp that made them both laugh.

“Don’t fight it,” Terry instructed, pushing a stray piece of hair from her face while he stared up at her lovingly. “Let go. I got you.”

His reassurance made her heart do a backflip on the way to its new home between her legs. She needed him in the worst way.

Terry leaned up to kiss her lips once, twice, and once more to linger. His fingertips traced a blazing path from her waist to the bottom of her ass to partially push her forward in a silent plea to kiss her where he missed her most. 

“Let me taste you. Is that okay?” 

Something about the way he asked for permission with eyes those stormy eyes robbed Patrice of her ability to respond with words. He prompted her to move forward again with a soft tap on her backside, finally convincing her to lift her hips and scoot toward his face. 

Cautiously, she hovered above his mouth with thick thighs flanking either side of his head. 

He moved slow with sweet kisses and lazy licks to mix spit with her wetness in a one-sided love song to his favorite girl. He was effortlessly sexy, combining broad strokes of his tongue between her lips with expertly timed sucks at her clit to elicit filthy words that fueled his best oral performance yet.

He ignored every plea for mercy and her cries for a break to compose herself. There was only one objective. Two if he were lucky to push her into a water show for the ages. 

Animalistic instinct had them trading moans in time with each other, fully in throws of passion. Every grind against his nose and call of his name made Terry want to show her the full extent of his skill. 

His face glistened beneath her with his eyes still low but open enough to get the full visual of her undoing.

“Terry, that is - oh…shit.” 

Full sentences became senseless babble as she clamped her eyes shut to brace for that familiar feeling pooling in the pit of her belly. Patrice struggled to maintain focus on herself while Terry enjoyed his new favorite meal. 

The velvety smoothness of his tongue took broad passes from her entrance to her clit, stopping every so often to chase wetness that had escaped to her thighs. He wanted every drop and then some. 

His moans and groans as he feasted vibrated against her most sensitive spots, turning her mind into television static. Seeing her unravel with every soft suckle at her clit and agonizingly slow, broad lick across her swollen lips drove him to near-obsessive levels of lust. 

Her chest heaved in a fight to keep her heart rate level as his efforts to make her cum for the first time became more targeted. 

“Fuck, baby” she moaned, finally taking a look down to watch the master in his element. “Look at you. You gon’ make me cum, huh?”

Terry seemed to smile at her admiration. If he could get her to talk back, her eventual undoing when all was said and done would be that much more satisfying. 

Taking her challenge, he began to push her to her limit. She was putty in his mouth as he brought her closer and closer to the edge, soft sucking turning into a talented tongue making moans devolve into nonsensical utterings until she was squirming for release while his arms kept her locked in place for a wild ride.

Almost there. Almost there. Then a brief pause to start from the top. More lazy passes and passionate kisses to rev her up to the point of delirium and practically screaming to finish. 

Just when she thought she may have to threaten him on the third revolution of his torture, he delivered on his promise from the bar. 

Colors emitted smells. Sounds became vivid pictures across her eyes. She could taste the stars as she erupted in a way she’d never done before. The prickle of his facial hair on sensitive skin felt like shockwaves on her skin. 

“Oh fuuuuck! Yesyesyes!” 

Her hips jerked without her permission, taking Terry’s face on the ride of his life. He kept up through it all with no objections. If death came from her thighs cutting him off from the oxygen needed to breathe he’d wear death like a badge of honor in the afterlife.

Another string of expletives fell from her lips in tandem with Terry’s muffled groan as she gripped the sheets below her for dear life. This was Heaven. She was sure of it. 

Terry took one last deep inhale with his nose pressed against her pussy before kissing along the warm skin of Patrice’s inner thigh while she came down. She caressed what she could reach of his head in appreciation and beckoned him to release his suction on her pussy. 

She rushed to get back to his lips to taste herself on his mouth and he welcomed her with open arms. 

Kissing. Grinding. Skin-to-skin friction. None of it was enough for Terry. He desperately needed to be inside her to satisfy the near-painful stiffness he was experiencing. 

His attempt to flip Patrice on her back was futile once she pressed her weight into his legs to keep him in place. He roughly nipped at her shoulder before trying again with the same result. 

“C’mon,” he pleaded, almost begging for the go-ahead to fill her to the hilt in one smooth motion.

Still, she denied him pleasure. Patrice shifted to straddle his waist, slowly dragging her hands up and down his torso while his stomach clenched from the warmth of her core on his body. 

“Lay back,” she breathed out, partially lifting her hips to reposition herself on top of his length. He hissed at the sensation of her gingerly dragging her wet, warm entrance against his shaft. “I’mma handle this one. Relax, baby.” 

If there was a thought to be had, Terry couldn’t piece it together to save his life once Patrice completely enveloped him inside her slick walls. His jaw tightened then fell slack once she began to work her magic. A slow bounce and grind combination in his lap kept her breast rolling in a lewd show with Terry as the lucky winner of a front row ticket. 

Patrice kept her head thrown back like a cowgirl, feeling perspiration gather on her forehead while he gave him all she had. His hands giving her firm smacks on the hip and ass acted as a round of applause each time she buried him deep and pulled back up with expert precision. 

Her right hand slid from its spot on his chest to his throat for a barely there squeeze just as a quiet gasp made her aware of another incoming orgasm. 

The feel of her thumb gripping his esophagus made Terry expel a sound that he wasn’t aware he could make, somewhere between a whimper and a growl awakening each of his senses. 

The sight brought him the beautiful visual of her eyes shut tightly in concentration while she glowed like a heavenly body from the lamp’s light. Her hair had slipped out of its bun, leaving a lion’s mane of coils to toss wildly in the wind. 

Smell brought with it the earthy scent of sweat and the lingering musk of her pussy. A smell that could awaken a deep longing in him in even the direst circumstances. If he could bottle it and wear it as fragrance, he’d do so proudly just to have her with him at all times.

Hearing pulled in the sound of their skin slapping together in time with the intermingling moans in the room. He’d never been so loud before, so unabashedly in the moment with another woman. He cursed, called her name, and praised her with equal ferocity. 

Touch was satisfied by the handful of ass he used to ease the stress on her thighs while she bucked wilder than ever before. 

Something akin to a growl erupted from his throat as he strained to hold back release. “You doing so good for me, baby. You know I love you right?” 

“Yes!” she cried out, hips starting to sputter out of control with Terry gently stretching her on every stroke. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist tighter as he fucked into her in search of their shared release. She sagged forward for the ride, her brain turning into mush while her mouth hung open with no sounds.

“Good.” His voice came through clenched teeth. “Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.” 

She put up no resistance as he paused his pounding to flip her onto her back with a dancer's grace. Having her laid out beneath him, body open, leaking, and waiting for him was as exciting as the first time. He was reinvigorated. Any onset of sore muscles and tired hips was gone the moment she keened for his attention. 

Terry’s eyes were blown wide with excitement while he decided where to put his mouth first. He quickly settled on one of her legs, slowly lifting it by the ankle to lick and kiss the birthmark by her Achilles. His tongue traced an invisible map past her heel, to her pedicured toes, and back to her calf before closing his lips to cap his display of affection. He propped the leg on his shoulder and then pressed forward to bring his chest down over hers. 

Patrice’s small mewls from the burning in her hamstrings became caught in Terry’s mouth as searched her mouth with sloppy enthusiasm. Her whining grew louder still once his tip pressed past her entrance.

“You can take it,” he affirmed, pushing deeper. “I know you can. I’m so proud of you.”

Affirmations and appreciative pecks across her face overrode aching muscles. She wanted, needed, to please him. 

They released content sighs in tandem once they were pelvis to pelvis. A snug fit made every long stroke intoxicating as Terry set an even pace. 

The repeated squeak of the bed added to their symphony of sounds growing more rabid by the second. They were off to the races on the way to an explosive finish line. 

Terry was relentless as he kept her in place for a proper and precise fuck that reached all the way to her heart. She’d begun thinking up baby names and nursery themes when he split his attention between earth-shattering penetration and the addition of his thoughtful stimulation of her clit to cover all bases. She was just along for the ride and hoping that she could keep her volume at a reasonable level when the inevitable took over. 

Patrice was the first to cum just as Terry intended. Her back arched off the bed in near levitation while she called his full name and the Lord’s to the ceiling.

“That’s what I like, beautiful. Give me everything.” 

He smiled down at his work, obsessed with the sight and sounds of her much-deserved orgasm. She couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. Wetness coated both of them as her hips circled to feel him fill her to the brim while a rush of endorphins flowed through her nervous system.

At the crest of her wave is where he came undone. 

The involuntary clinching sent Terry into a tailspin of frenetic strokes and broken sentences with his face tucked firmly into Patrice’s neck. She comforted him through it all, speaking directly into the shell of his ear and punctuating every few words with a soft kiss. 

“I wanna do this for the rest of our lives. Don’t you want that, baby?” Terry forwent a verbal answer in favor of a short grunt as his pace became erratic. “Fill me up. Let’s try for that son you used to tell me about.” 

“Fuck, Treece.” 

“Maybe we’ll name him after you. He’ll have my eyes and your smile, hm. Think you can do that for me tonight. I know you wanna cum. Do it for me, baby. Go ahead.” 

The magic words. He came with a gruff groan and a slew of profane words that would otherwise be offensive to any outside of the bubble they’d created in those walls. His toes cramped, eyelids clamped shut, and ears rang while every breath came out shaky and labored. Patrice joined him throughout the ride until he returned to the Earth’s atmosphere. 

Neither of them moved, preferring to hear the other’s steady in and out while their chests rose and fell together. 

“One year,” Terry started, keeping his attention focused on bringing Patrice’s ring finger to his lips as he lay on her chest. 

She paused the imaginary circles she was drawing on his shoulders and looked down at him. “One year what?” 

“Gimme a year and you’ll be coming down the aisle or standing in front of the judge, whichever one you want. Where you wanna honeymoon?” 

“Mmm, how about Puerto Rico?” 

“Done. Summer wedding?”

“Early fall.” 

“10-4.” 

“Yeah,” Patrice questioned, giggling. “And what else? What’s next?” 

 “Making our parents grandparents, hopefully. I’m trynna be an honest man. Take me out the streets, please!” 

Patrice’s cackle at Terry’s antic invited him to join at full volume. “An honest man, huh? I can do that for you. I’ll make an honest man out of Terrence Richmond, no problem. It’s the least I could do.” 

“Mhmm.” Regaining some strength in his body, Terry kissed his way from her chest to her mouth, only stopping when he had her arching into him for more contact. He spoke with his nose pressed to hers. “Patrice Nicole Richmond. Sounds good, right?” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

Terry hummed his approval, preferring to get back to the worship he had planned from the moment they set off to New Orleans.

Every second in their lives, together and apart, had brought them to a new beginning that neither of them could’ve imagined. If tonight was day one of forever, they vowed before each other and God to make it glorious one day at a time. 

Terry had lost a lot. Money, family, himself. But under the white glow of a full moon and the touch of the one he cherished most, he’d gained so much more. Something he’d been searching for without the word to call it by its name until he got back to her front step one afternoon.

Love.

----

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[skye-obsolete]

Hi! Can I request Lads boys react Mc who's a big fan of k-pop boy band idols to the point their room is filled with their merchandise or if she have a chance she go to concert too? Her delulu and fantasy may or may not make the boys jealous because it make her oblivious to their court. (any of the idols choice is yours)

Thank you!

K-pop Idol Reaction

ʟᴀᴅs ʙᴏʏs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ┆ : 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘈𝘋𝘚 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘬-𝘱𝘰𝘱 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘯?

ᯓ❅ ┆ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 ┆ : 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵

─────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ────────────────

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫

You accidentally left your door open when you grabbed the mail. Xavier, passing by, noticed the open door and his protective instincts kicked in seeing a figure. He entered your room, only to be greeted by a large poster of your favorite K-pop idol.

Hearing footsteps, you turned and panicked, “X-Xavier!” You tried to pull him away, but it was too late. His eyes roamed the room, taking in the walls plastered with posters and the pictures stuck to your floor-length mirror.

Unfamiliar with the K-pop craze, Xavier looked at a poster and asked, “Do you know these people?” He tilted his head slightly, inspecting it with curiosity.

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. ���Well…” It was a yes and no.

“I’ve been following them for a while now,” you admitted, scratching your cheek and avoiding his gaze.

Xavier misunderstood, thinking you meant they were relatives or significant acquaintances. “Do you want my photos?”

“… What?”

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞

Zayne knocked on your door, inviting you to eat with him after cooking a meal. However, you couldn’t hear him over the latest album from the K-pop boy band you’ve followed since their debut.

When there was no response, Zayne entered the room. You jumped up, hastily removing your earphones and hiding your phone. The door opened widely, revealing Zayne’s curious gaze. He took in the numerous posters on your walls.

“This—” you stammered, searching for an excuse.

“I didn’t know you were such a fan,” he mused, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. You blushed lightly at his comment and gave him a wordless glare, questioning his sudden intrusion.

“Food’s cooked. Eat with me while it’s still fresh and hot,” he said, answering your silent question. He looked around again, assessing your dedication to the band. Knowing their concert was approaching, he added, “I’m free next month. We can book tickets and attend the concert together if you want.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up with excitement. Zayne nodded.

“Make sure you get enough rest if you want it to happen, and eat your meal soon.” It was a compromise you were absolutely willing to take.

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

You always made sure your door was closed to prevent Rafayel from seeing your room, which was entirely covered with photos and posters of your K-pop idols. But today, he forced his way inside, frustrated by your constant seclusion.

“What’s this?!” Rafayel exclaimed, pointing at a floor-length poster of an idol.

“Surely you’ve heard of them, right?” you replied, feeling like you had just been caught red-handed.

He seemed upset, and you thought it was because you were a fan of a K-pop boy band. But then he surprised you by saying, “Why aren’t my photos here?”

“Huh?”

“I’m quite famous too, y’know!” he argued, “Why aren’t my photos glued to your walls?”

"..." He was definitely jealous, just not in the way you thought.

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬

With Sylus and his Evol and Mephisto around, nothing escaped his notice. You didn’t bother hiding your love for the Korean band, openly humming their songs and buying merchandises even with Sylus by your side.

At first, he didn’t mind, even giving you his card to spend as you liked. But when you planned to attend a concert instead of accompanying him to a business meeting, it ticked him off.

“You’re telling me, you’re letting Luke and Kieran take your place at a business meeting with me because the date of this ‘concert’ aligns with the day?” he asked, arms crossed as he stared down at you.

“Yeah, why?” you replied without hesitation, not seeing the issue.

He sighed, pinching his temples in frustration. “Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you, sweetie.”

He then added, “I can just sing you a song instead,” he offered, either oblivious to or ignoring the fact that his singing was ‘out of this world’.

“… That’s not the same thing…” you sweat-dropped. “I’m sure Luke and Kieran will love that, though.”

·❆　　　❆　❅　　　　•　　　　.　　　　　❆❆• 　·　.　　　❅

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒: 𝑌𝐸𝑆. 𝐷𝐸𝐿𝑈𝐿𝑈-𝑁𝐸𝑆𝑆. 𝐼 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑛! 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑~

[ironunderstands]

Sunday’s worldview sucks, his outlook and perception of himself and others sucks… and that’s why he’s so interesting

In honor of his drip marketing releasing tonight (or maybe yesterday for you depending on when I get this out), I’d like to talk about why I think Sunday’s beliefs and perspective is very, very flawed and how his own biases rather than the actions of those who oppose him are what led to his downfall.

Sunday is entirely responsible for his own failure, and that’s exactly why he’s incredible.

This contains mentions of leaks and spoilers for the Penacony quest line… you have been warned

To start with, oh my lord do Sunday’s preconceived notions kick him in the ass. 

I think the best example of this is his conversation with Dr. Ratio in which Ratio pretends to betray Aventurine, selling out his plan to Sunday. Now, what’s incredibly interesting about this exchange is that Ratio doesn’t fully lie to Sunday once in this exchange, rather he says half truths and makes vague statements which Sunday himself interprets as being in support of him. 

Take what Ratio said the whole, “A scholar knows their position and wouldn’t forsake it for the sake of petty pride.” In retrospect, we know this line is actually referring to Aventurine- aka Ratio is saying he’s not just going to sell him out to Sunday for the sake of information about the Stellaron (which he would get anyways if the IPC attained Penacony, plus Mr. Incredibly Dedicated Knowledge Spreader probably has other means of gaining it then through The Family). 

However, since Ratio answered the invitation Sunday gave him, Sunday assumes that Ratio is on his side, believes his cause is righteous, and that he won Ratio over with offering him information about the Stellaron, therefore making that previous statement of Ratio’s null, because Sunday interpreted it as, “convince me this is worth my time + prove to me you’re correct,” when it really meant, “there is no way in hell I’m about to sacrifice my friend to you, and there is nothing you could offer me to make me do so you crazed lunatic.”

But why did Sunday not weigh the options? Why did he unquestioningly believe his perception of the situation was the correct one?

Well- partly it’s because Ratio and Aventurine were doing their damndest to make it seem like they hate each other and that their plan was going off the rails.

But the more important part is that even without Ratio saying a word or even accepting the invitation, Sunday already believes he’d be on his side. 

Let me demonstrate this through Sunday's perspective:

I am a righteous person, I am doing the correct things, my worldview is the correct one. Dr. Ratio is also a righteous person who seems to be doing the correct things. Therefore, since we are both on the side of good, and Aventurine is clearly not on that side considering his status as Stoneheart and his negative relationship to Ratio, then Ratio will naturally want to be on my side. After all, the good guys work together, do they not?- and together will vanquish this evil villain.

This perspective is a simple one, but Sunday’s unshaking belief (up until the end of 2.2) that he is 100% in correct and in the right, that any and everyone who he also perceives to be in the right (like Ratio) would believe/side with him without truly needing to be convinced. Sunday doesn’t come out the gate offering the Stellaron information- he only keeps it as a backup just in case. 

However, this is complicated because Sunday is also not an idiot, and he’s extremely paranoid, so he’s going to make sure that the way he views the world is 100% correct on the off chance he’s wrong which could foil his plans- which is why he invited Ratio in the first place. Nevertheless, this isn’t him hunting for new perspectives, but rather him desiring to prove himself right again, which is a bad thing because Sunday is very much not right. 

A perfect world is a perfect pris- *gets shot*

Reference that approximately 2 ½ people will get beside, Sunday’s ideology that he is fully confident in.. sucks. It sucks ass, it’s terrible, and let me explain.

I’m not going to try going over all the little intricacies to how the dreamscape works because I a) don’t know and b) don’t particularly care because they aren’t relevant to the argument I will be making- which is that Sunday’s ideology is inherently flawed and immediately falls apart under scrutiny.

Essentially, he desires to create the perfect fake reality, enveloping the whole galaxy in Ena’s dream and fulfilling their every desire and whim within it, with himself as the sacrifice to allow it to exist. The seven rest days, no illness, no pain, no challenge, you get the idea. 

And, this perfect world paradoxically sucks ass because of its perfectness.

Improving society is great, eliminating hardship is great, increasing quality of life is great.

But declawing reality itself- absolutely not.

I’m going to try to explain this through my favorite strangely specific anecdote- the process of obtaining diamonds in Minecraft.

Stay with me now.

You essentially have two options- go out and mine them yourselves the hard way, which takes hours, gives you less diamonds per the amount of time spent on it, and likely with you exhausting some of your resources like food, torches, and tools which you will need to replenish.

Or.

You can just.. get them from creative mode or commands, and you can get as many as your heart desires.

However, despite the fact that option one is harder, gives you less diamonds and takes significantly more time, I, as well as hopefully you, would pick it every time (at least in a survival world, although honestly idk why you would even need pure diamonds in creative).

And that’s because the first option is rewarding. 

You did not earn the diamonds you easily and magically summoned into your inventory, there is no struggle, no journey, no challenge to it, therefore it feels entirely unremarkable, as compared to the feeling you (hopefully) get from mining diamonds, which makes you happy because you earned it. Yeah, it was harder, but the process itself is fun- the anticipation of not knowing when you’re going to find them, if at all, the danger, the fighting and digging and mauvering you will have to do in the process.

And with this unconventional example, the fatal flaw with Sunday’s ideology is revealed- it’s boring. 

It’s boring as shit.

Yeah, for the first few months or even years it might be enjoyable- having everything you could ever want served on a silver platter. However, humans are a) inherently a bit greedy and b) desire challenge, and this scenario fulfilles neither of those things. Naturally having everything means your desire for more can never be fulfilled, leaving the wanter forever unsatisfied, whereas in the real world, things are truly out of your reach, meaning that even if you never end up getting them, they are still a tangible thing just out of reach… as strange at it sounds, we like being tantalilus-ed more than you think. After all, if what you want is so easy to get, you will never run out of things to want, and eventually that gets draining. 

Continually, if everything is easy, if everything is just right there whenever you want it- existence itself no longer has stakes. 

And that’s the problem, because much like how a story with no stakes is extremely hard to find compelling, a life with no stakes feels boring at best and downright pointless and meaningless at worst.

I’m just saying, there is a reason why the Nihility was such a strong presence and problem in Penacony.

Anyways, like with the diamond problem, a lack of stakes means that nothing you do feels rewarding, because you didn’t truly earn it. 

Which is where the Sunday’s idea of a “perfect” reality falls apart, because the most enjoyable reality for humans to live in is not one literally devoid of any possible flaw.

So why does he believe in it? When it’s so clearly flawed?

Well, it’s because Sunday doesn’t think a better alternative exists.

The world made you this way.. and you chose to continue what it started.

I’m sure I don’t need to repeat the story of the Charmony Dove all over again because trust me, we’ve all heard it before. Nonetheless, it reveals something important both about Sunday’s personality and his ideology- he’s fundamentally a defeatist.

He doesn’t believe that there is any alternative for the dove, that it could ever be able to fly again with its deformed nature, so instead of being “cruel” and letting it “inevitably fall to its death,” he’d rather keep it in a cage all its life where it has no freedom, but at least it would he alive and “happy”.

And this is where his defeatism reveals itself- Sunday doesn’t believe reality itself can get better because improving it when there are so many factors and things out of your control is hard at best and impossible at worst. Therefore, he resorts to creating an escapist, false version of it- a perfect golden cage, because constructing that is far, far easier than trying to help the dove fly again. 

The universe has endless possibilities, if Robin and Sunday had tried hard enough, they probably could have found a solution. Sure, they were both children, so the capabilities necessary to even attempt that were likely far out of their reach. However, it was still possible, but Sunday doesn’t believe in possibilities- he believes he’s right above all else, which is where that stubbornness and arrogance comes into play again.

Sunday doesn’t think better solutions than his exists, and he believes everyone would could possibly stand in his noble way are either villains, or horribly misguided; so it’s his job to show them the light.

This is why he lets the Express Crew + Firefly try to change his mind- Sunday wasn’t actually interesting in shifting his perspective, or really what they wanted to say. Rather, he just wanted to let them say there peace, because well, Sunday’s a good, righteous person (at least from his perspective), and good, righteous people listen to others. Good, righteous people will let these poor, ignorant souls offer their foolish words before exposing them to the harsh truth- or at least that’s how Sunday sees it. 

Moreover, this also explains his arrogance. If he believes his worldview is the sole correct one, then why listen to anyone else? He’s this world's savior, or at least he’s been raised to believe that- so why not relish in it? He enjoys punishing Aventurine, enjoys the bastard who stood in the way of Sunday’s plans, shrinks away in “defeat” and get what he “deserves.” Despite how miserable it sounds, Sunday also takes pride in having to be a martyr to bring about his beautiful dream. The belief that he is a selfless, good person is a selfish desire of his, even if a genuine one, and it’s what leads to his downfall.

Sunday could have actually listened. He could have reevaluated his loss to Aventurine and realized it was not through the others clever deception, but through his own biases. He could have actually taken the Express’s and Firefly’s advice. He could have looked for other avenues to help the people he truly does care about. 

Despite Gopher Wood’s manipulation- Sunday’s decision to go forward with the pain is entirely his own, because he truly believes- even with all the evidence for the contrary- that he is correct.

And that’s why he fails. Not because of the Express. Not because of Ratio. Not because of Aventurine. Not because of Gopher, or even the rest of The Family.

No, Sunday fails because he is flawed, and he is wrong, and he is the arrogant, selfish and biased one, and his worldview is wrong.

So what now?

This might have seemed like I think Sunday is pure evil and irredeemable, but I think it’s quite the opposite.

He has very good intentions, and he does genuinely care about it the well being of other people around him. He gives Aventurine a chance to prove his innocence, even if he never intended on changing, he does listen to what the Express + Firefly have to say. He pauses when Robin shows up, as she’s the one person (until the very end) he’s actually willing to accept the perspective of. The whole reason he ended up here in the first place is because Gopher Wood twisted Sunday’s good intentions into a fatal arrogance and utmost belief in a flawed worldview. 

However, what really sells me on Sunday’s goodness is when eyes widen at that final moment, the light draining from him as he realizes he is wrong. 

And once Sunday realizes he is wrong, those flaws that bind him can finally be examined and improved upon, as they all stem from that worldview he no longer believes in. 

His whole life, Sunday has been enacting out someone else’s plan for him, even if he’s come to internalize it over time, at the end of the day- it was never his, and without it, he’s empty.

Which is exactly why the only place he can go now is the Express, and the only thing left for him is redemption and growth.

Dan Heng is right- Sunday has a noble soul, and now that he has stopped believing in himself, he’s no longer shackled by the past either. Improvement or utter demise (in a likely nihility-flavored manner) are his only options remaining.

I understand a lot of people want to see him become a Stellaron Hunter, but imo, that just does nothing for him. He’d still be following someone else’s path/script, and Mr. I Will Sacrifice My Whole Existence To Become The Sun To Illuminate These Wandering Souls probably wouldn’t be so on board with the whole.. terrorism part of being a SH. Like yeah, they are our friends (kinda), but they absolutely kill innocent people and cause millions of dollars in property damage to people who don’t deserve it. 

Also, being on the Express Just Makes Sense. This is a game about choices, a game about accepting the mistakes of your past, but not letting them define you in order to move on and forge a better future for yourself and others- with the Astral Express + Trailblaze as a concept being the literal embodiment of it. There’s a reason when you switch to the Trailblazer’s POV in stories, it includes Kafka’s most important words to us- “When you have the chance to make a choice, make one you won’t regret.”

Therefore, I hope the choices Sunday will make in 2.7 are ones he’s proud of, and I can’t wait to see how exactly they get him on board with the crew, because there still is a LOT of development he needs to do before then. 

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and if you have any thoughts I’d love to hear them. This was a stream of consciousness mess, but I hope it was still valuable nonetheless! Also if you are reading this on the day it was written, I hope we don’t get disappointed by his drip marketing!

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 19

Story Masterlist

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with THIS LINKED POST to be added to the tag list.

NOTE: Started to upload the chapters to Ao3. You can find the link on Dion’s Masterlist. I also edited some of the chapters on there and here on tumblr as well. 

Warnings: implied past/recent attempted sexual assault, attempted murder, choking, mentioned past violence for self-defense, implied possible past stalking, themes of obsessive and possessive behavior/thoughts/actions, implied physical (NOT sexual) abuse towards a toy, slight themes of imprisonment, implied past child neglect, mention (staged) suicide, mention of hypothetical murder and injury, implied attempted non-consensual sexual intercourse/activity (Fontaine), mention of drugging, TOXIC marriage/relationship, Ash needs a break. Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIOR THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS (BLOGS THAT DO NOT HAVE ANY CONTENT), BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.), DNI.

= = =

“Doctor, oh doctor… please take her with you!”

“Young Master, I want to live.” 

Throwing his status as a noble to the side, Zachary (Last Name) is on his knees, asking - begging - Ash Katopodis to take you, his very sweet - hopeless - sister along with him. Meaning, kidnapping you.

 Of course, that label would only be true if he takes you against your will; however, knowing your situation, the doctor knows that you would consider it, at the very least. Although, he also knows that you would most likely reject the idea, knowing you’ll be hunted down to the ends of the earth.

But that’s only your side and not his; he would never dream of it. There are a number of reasons he refuses to entertain your brother’s silly request. 

“Ugh… but she can’t just stay there! She’ll die in like what, a month?”

“It’s already been a month, or at least almost one,” Ash sighs out, siff on the lounge couch. While he understands the boy, he refuses to play into his delusions - taking you? From Black Agriche? 

No, forget that - taking you away from Dion Agriche?

He shudders at the mere thought of it. Just mentioning divorce had the crazed man daring him to finish his sentence that night. Had he not deescalated the dire situation, he would either be in a coma, limbless, or six feet under. A funeral holding a few people in attendance, and he knows that his horrible employer would be among them.

Not out of guilt, of course.

“If she was going to die, it would have been by now. Besides, I’m sure that you’re fully aware of… the Young Master’s affection towards the Lady.” Ash says awkwardly, not expecting a mere twelve- year-old boy to continuously beg him to help you escape. As a matter of fact, he’s surprised that Zac knew anything of Dion at all, aside from his… unfavorable reputation.

 “And that’s why you should take her. Fake her death, or something. Stage a suicide.” The boy suggests with a shrug of his shoulder. “If you do the second, maybe that guy will feel guilty and repent for everything.”

Taken aback, the young doctor stares at your brother - how could he suggest such a thing? So casually like it would be nothing. Did he not consider that Lant would investigate your suicide? Hell, did he not consider that your husband would do so first, and raise hell on earth just to find you?

Does he not think that your husband would find you? It doesn’t matter if you changed your hair and eyes, or even cut off a limb or two; he would immediately know it’s you. 

That’s just the type of person he is. 

The room falls silent as the redhead thinks of a response. “...Young Master, I don’t think you realize just how… dedicated Master Dion is to his wife.”

“She has a name. Use it.” Zac demands, staring the older man in the eyes. 

Ash sighs, shaking his head. “Yes, of course… Lady (Name) will simply be hunted down until she’s found. And my head would be cut off.” He explains, or at least tries to. It’s like arguing with a brick wall.

He ponders what gives him this much energy, what inspires these very dangerous ideas. Does he think he’ll be immune from his part in the would-be ploy? Maybe Dion wouldn’t hurt him, but he’ll find a way to get back at him. 

Dangling you in front of him, maybe. A hand on your waist in public appearances. News regarding your pregnancy. 

It would be obvious that his younger brother-in-law was the one who orchestrated the hypothetical plan. Going up to Dion, saying you weren’t into tall men only to run with his tail between his legs. He admits the sight of him clinging onto you was a bit funny, and that his gesture was sweet - but foolish - but unfortunately it just made his future goals obvious.

But forget that - what could a twelve-year-old do?

“But would he think it was you?”

“Well, considering that the Lady would be gone soon after my leave from their estate, I would assume so.” 

Zac huffs. 

The wait for the head of the (Last Name) family continues.

- - -

 “Lady Grizelda…” you meekly call out, holding a flower bouquet that was given to her but handed over to you. “Why are you giving this to me…? It was a sweet gift given to you.”

The sun shines down on you, your original goal of returning to Dion’s room almost forgotten. But your sister-in-law suggested some fresh air - to ease your nerves. 

Fontaine wouldn’t be out in the garden, he’d be in the training grounds or right outside the estate to blow off some steam. And Maria is most likely busy around this time, ‘playing’ with Sierra in the Glass Chamber as usual. As for Dion… well, you’ll find out eventually. 

Truthfully, however, she’s trying to keep your mind sane. 

Sending you on your way while being a crying and stumbling mess… lord knows who would take advantage of that - no, scratch that. Lord knows what Dion would do.

It’s an itch, a safety measure. She’s not sure why she keeps thinking this, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

“Hm? Ah, but I have no use for them - besides, I think they’ll lighten your room up. If my brother asks, just tell him they were a gift from me. To make up for our short introduction and conversation during the engagement party and wedding.” 

You wearily look at her and then at the flowers. They smell nice, and thankfully they don’t look like the slightly poisonous ones in the manhwa that was given to Roxana. Regardless, you don’t want them, and even if you did, you’re sure that Dion would glare at the poor things. Because they were from someone who isn’t him.

What a jealous man.

“That’s rather… depressing. For the servant, I mean.” The vivid red reminds you of blood while the pretty pink reminds you of home. So soft compared to the red. So different, and the longer you look at them, the more you realize the crimson overtakes the pink - it’s intimidating.

“Well, you should see the amount of admirers Roxana has - the flowers always end up in the trash. That or given to her mother if they were from outside our borders.” She casually informs, and you believe her. 

“I see…”

She glances at you from the corner of her eye, spotting the dribble of blood that stained your dress. It was barely noticeable, but your thumb was very much out in the open. So, like the kind sister-in-law she is, she lent you a loose pair of hers - not too loose, just enough to fit the fabric tied around the injured digit.

It still shows the outline of it, making it look awkward. But there’s barely a person who would stare at you. After all, you’re Dion’s wife. 

But she wonders why you didn’t have your own pair; the previous marks were still very recent.

Your behavior has also become more natural, relaxed. You’re still jittery, but at least you aren’t about to have a panic attack. Or a crying mess. 

The rabbit has calmed down. Like handing a carrot to the adorable thing. Of course, this view won’t last long. It’s only a matter of time until this moraless madness takes over you.

“So,” the brunette starts, “does the food suit your taste?” She smiles when you look at her, puzzled. “I’m just curious, that’s all,” she explains with a small shrug.

You raise your guard up more. 

“Ah… it does,” you tell the truth. But you hate that it does - especially the sweets. The teas. The main courses and side dishes that you ate with vigor at your parent’s estate before you were married off. It makes you sick and scared.

Just how much does your beloved husband know about you? How does he know?

Did he threaten your parents? The servants? You shake the thought off when she hums in approval. 

“That’s good. This is more fun than what I thought it would be - we should invite Roxana sometime. If you’re up for it, that is.” She suggested, laidback. Was she supposed to be like this? Was this how the author wrote her? 

Actually, does any of this even matter?

Everything is fucked up already. You’re married to Dion, Dion is ‘sweet’ to you, he’s obsessed with you instead of Roxana, and he’s not a virgin (it’s obvious he couldn’t get bitches in the manhwa. The novel is a different story, but spoilers said he’s dense when it comes to romance).

Jeremy has a fondness for you, a stranger he didn’t even talk to until after you moved in. Roxana… you don’t even know anymore. You’re not sure if you want to.

“Ah… thank you for the offer. I might take you up  on it… let’s turn around,” you turn on your feet, seeing a figure in the distance that’s an unpleasant sight. While it’s true you momentarily wanted to seek him out to rat out Fontaine, your overall mood has improved and frankly, if you do decide to tell him, you want it to be outside of any enjoyable company.

Of course, you should probably ask Grizelda to be with you if you go that route. But for now, you just want to soak in the sun. You want to walk without a chain on your ankle.

Your hands start to shake around the stems of the flowers. The thorns were ripped off, but something still sinks into the gloves. Your thumb throbs, an itch inside you can only reach with your teeth. You bite the inside of your cheek softly.

You hope he doesn’t notice you. His back was turned and you pray he doesn’t turn around. 

Grizelda follows suit after looking at her older brother for a bit. Neither of you say a word, simply walking down the trail, retracing your steps. What a shame - you wanted to enjoy the sun for a bit longer. But now it feels cold, and the flowers suddenly smell sour. 

Your (e/c) eyes trail down to the red flowers in your grasp; they remind you of your husband’s eyes. Vivid. Pretty yet morbid. They almost glow.

They remind you of fresh blood.

“... I’m sorry but,” you separate the pink ones from the red, “I don’t think I can accept the red ones.” You whisper, hoping Dion wouldn’t hear the breeze carry your voice. Once you’re done, you hand the red ones to Grizelda - a pause before she accepts them. 

“Oh? That’s a pity… not that I blame you.” She doesn’t sound judgemental. Her voice is clear, void of any mockery or concern. 

Strangely, that comforts you. 

- - -

The sound of approaching footsteps becomes distant, their owners turning around. Curious, the Agriche turns his head to look over his shoulder. The sight of you with his sister eases some of his worries, but it doesn’t stop the newfound jealousy.

Perhaps it is pathetic, and maybe he really is a lost cost. Then again, he’s always been one the moment he started to grow in his mother’s womb - a child who would be raised without love. Shallow affection was there but it dwindled as he got older. And besides, he never did care much for his mother’s whims and expectations. 

But you? You were different - a different breed from him. You know how to love properly. But it’s also because of that, that you refuse to show him any. His hands itch to turn you around, his feet want to walk, he wants to see his reflection in your eyes - for you to look at him.

He stares for quite a bit, seeing your figures getting smaller and smaller, voices low and soft. He wonders what you’re talking about. It would be a lie to say he doesn’t want to trail behind you - he could very much do so. The red-eyed noble knows to quiet his footsteps, and he’s good at sneaking up on people.

Unlike him, you weren’t trained to strain your ears to hear the crunch of a twig amongst a busy forest. Grizelda, while more physically trained than you, probably wouldn’t be able to hear him coming. But considering that your once approaching footsteps have become distant, you saw him, and thus decided to leave so you don’t have to interact with him.

It stings. Very much so, and he craves to carve himself into your very being. Devour you whole, imprint himself on you as you had done to him. 

You're getting tinier. He’s losing his chance to see you up close. But maybe he should just leave you be, give you some space. Calm your mind and clear your head. He’ll try again tonight, but with a more subtle approach. Less staring and touching, reducing them to a minimum. 

Or would that also backfire on him?

A minute passes before he makes up his mind to go a different route - he’ll find you again in a bit. He doubts that Grizelda would leave you alone; the girl has always been curious about the outside world. And you are practically from a different world, thus her bombarded questions will go on for the entire day.

Even so, there’s something dark lurking in his head. It whispers to take you by the hand and return to your room - sit you on his lap. Restrain you with his hands, keep you near, whisper twisted sweet-nothings into your ear, promising he’ll give you anything if you just give him even a crumb of affection.

Make it to where the only person you could see was him.

Besides he’s your husband - it’s only natural that you should spend time together. It’s not like he hasn’t shown interest, the very opposite actually.

But it’s that same interest that drives you away with a frightened look in your eyes. So scared to be approached by him, always looking for an exit.

Ah. 

He looks at your retreating figures just before you disappear from sight, taking note of how relaxed you seem. How cruel of you - you’re not looking for one with her.

Just with him.

- - -

“Okay, how about -”

“The answer is no and will always be no.” 

The conversation has not yet ended. Both parties glance at the doors here and there to see if anyone is there. They remained closed and the room only held their voices. It witnesses their interactions, the secret of this conversation bleeding into the walls, unknown and unheard by anyone else. 

Ash looks at the grandfather clock - an hour and a half has gone by since Zac joined him. Yet there is no sign of your father. How odd.

Almost like he’s avoiding him.

The complete opposite of his Heir, he laments. The boy refuses to leave, seeing that there is no need to. Still, the conversation is going nowhere and he really, really wants to go home. 

He doesn’t get paid enough for this.

- - -

“That fucking bitch,” Fontaine mumbles to himself, striking his sword down on the dummy. It’s sliced in two, two of his men watching on the sidelines. Both look at each other, worried they’ll be next. 

Wondering what soured their Master’s mood.

His large and muscular body contorts into something tighter, a snarl on his face as he recalls the events of earlier today.

You… you weren’t supposed to be rowdy. He’s heard the rumors, that you’re meek and docile, a scared little rabbit that bows its head. You’ve never crossed Lant, you never rejected Maria’s invitations. You listen to them, listen to Dion, presumably. 

He grits his teeth.

You weren’t even supposed to marry him. 

You - you were supposed to be his; that was the original plan. Of course, he didn’t pick you, his father did. He doesn’t know the reason, and he doubts he ever will. 

Truthfully, he didn’t care for it, at first. Until he realized he was ahead of Dion, for once. He was given something important, a gift for all of his hard work that was finally recognized. A pretty thing to show off and keep his bed warm, bowing your head and obeying him like the good girl you are.

The good girl you were supposed to be.

However, somehow, someway, Dion slithered in, and convinced their father to hand  you over to him instead. Lant’s favoritism was always severe, irritatingly so. He overlooks everyone else that isn’t Roxana or Dion, and even then, his half-sister never shined as bright in their father’s eyes.

 He lied to Grizelda about Lant arranging the marriage between Dion and you - he didn’t want to admit that he once again lost to his accursed younger brother.

The brother that always comes in first place. The brother who gets all the praise. The glory, the attention, the rewards - always him, him, him.

You, the little rabbit, was supposed to marry Fontaine, the lion who finally was chosen for something. But Dion -

He ruined that.

His jaw clenches and knuckles turning white as the hilt of his sword threatens to crack. “Damn it! That fucking wrench.” He swings his sword at a different dummy. The head rolls off, and yet, his rage isn’t quelled. Again and again he targets different ones, imaging them to be Dion - at the very least, he would like to get one hit in. 

He saw the opportunity when he came across you, alone in the toy area. Defenseless. Meek and docile, a rabbit ready for the taking. He could have done it, taken what was supposed to be his. He was even nice about it -

“Y-Young Master Fontaine…. The dummies… they’re -”

“Shut it! I know I got rid of them all. Go get new ones unless you want to become one.” Look, he’s being generous. Better than that Dion. 

His men share a look with a gulp before scattering off, obeying him. The oldest Agriche child scoffs through his teeth. He’ll get you next time. He’ll make sure of it.

“... fuck, I shouldn’t have let my guard down.” He walks over to the wall, leaning against it. Next to him was a staircase, leading to the area where Lant spectates his children’s training. No-one is here today.

The lessons for the day were to be taken in the outside training grounds. Of course, he wasn’t assigned any. After all, he just returned from a mission. A boring one, a useless one. 

He needed to let off steam so he visited one of his toys before coming across you. It was fun, sure, but it didn’t satisfy him. But you - you could have.

Smaller than him and pretty. A nice waist to hold, he’s sure Dion didn’t enjoy the pleasure that’s sleeping with a woman. He must have hurt you, surely, but Fontaine can always overwrite your terrible experience. He could have shown you, engraved himself into you, claiming what was supposed to be his.

Instead you kicked him. Kicked him and ran, barely escaping by a hair. And to think, he was going to be gentle.

“Fuck, I should have choked her instead of being nice.” He mumbles to himself, finally relaxing his muscles. “She wouldn’t have run away otherwise… had her right in my hands too…” Unable to stop talking, he closes his eyes as he recalls the event. Ideas of what he should have done pop up in his head, annoying him. 

“Tch… why did father give her to him…” he runs a hand through his hair. He sighs to himself. “Dion wasn’t there… let’s see… maybe I’ll bribe her maid to drug her - Kegh!” 

“Drug who?” 

A hand roughly grabs the grey-eyed man’s neck, slamming his head against the wall. The aggressor's grip threatens to snap his thick neck, his airway blocked. The blood rushes to his head and he can’t think let alone talk.

He gasps for air, kicking his legs and clawing at a pale hand. It’s suffocating, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’s about to lose consciousness until -

“M-Master D-D-Dion! Stop, please!”

“Master Fontaine!” 

Fontaine’s men call out, rushing to the two brothers. They hesitate to touch your husband, but they can’t exactly let Fontaine die, either. They stop in their tracks when scarlet eyes glare at them, murderous intentions clear. He doesn’t address them, but he does loosen his grip on Fontaine’s neck - it’s not an act of mercy. 

“Ha-Haaa,” Fontaine pants, rapidly blinking as he regains his senses. His eyes widen once he sees that it’s his own brother choking him with the intent to kill. His heart painfully hammers against his chest, threatening to break his rib cage. He hears his own pulse. 

“D-Dion! W-what are y-you -”

“Drug who?” The red-eyed man repeats himself. His heart is erratic, blood hot - his blunt nails dig into Fontaine’s skin, drawing blood. He wants to snap it. He wants to see his eyes pop out, wants to see him dead.

He wants to kill him.

“Young Master! Please, what will your father -” One man starts, but his pleas land on deaf ears.

Dion’s eyes are solely on Fontaine, seeing red. “Well?” He waits, only for his eyes to twitch when his older brother gasps for air instead of responding. 

Maybe it was a good thing to go his own way - he just happened to hear some senseless grumbling and he was curious. Today’s lessons for the children weren’t being held indoors. Actually, the indoor training room was off limits for the day. 

Once seeing it was Fontaine, Dion had planned on leaving. Until he heard him mutter something about their father giving someone else something… and then mention a maid. It was obvious after that - after all, who else but you could Fontaine not directly touch?

He tightens his grip again. “You were rather talkative before,” he comments as Fontaine’s face becomes red. It’s a nice look on him - especially as his eyes lose the light in them, a panicked expression replacing the irritated one from before. 

He hears smaller footsteps rush towards him. He ignores it - must be another guard.

“Wha? My Lady, don’t-” flabbergasted, one of the guards reaches out to grab someone, but he’s shaken off roughly.

Smaller hands grab his free arm. He stiffens, blood freezing as someone tugs at his arm harshly. However, they don’t attempt to take the one choking Fontaine away. Almost like they don’t want to, but they have to - for what reason, he doesn’t know.

He looks at the person, eyes widening once he sees it’s you - confusion, fear, mouth ajar. You look panicked, shaking your head, trying your best to pull him away from the scum of the earth. 

He’s about to ask if you’ve gone mad, until you mouth -

Not yet.

His mind blanks. Slowly, he starts to release Fontaine, almost by reflex. He glances behind you to see Grizelda looking on in horror, but not at the scene of Dion and Fontaine - rather the scene between him and you. His fingers twitch.

He doesn’t want to stop. He shouldn’t. But you keep tugging and tugging, trying your best to pull him away, your heels digging into the floor as you struggle to even make your husband move an inch. 

His eyes travel lower and he sees some blood on the bodice. His grip tightens on Fontaine’s neck. But you don’t stop, voice shaky as you beg - 

“Dion… please.” 

He does as you say. 

THUD

Fontaine falls to the ground as Dion backs off. You repeat the words silently, seeing your reflection in his eyes. 

Not yet.

He glances at the heaving man on the ground. And then back at you, but you’re not looking at him - your eyes are empty as you stare down at your brother-in-law. You blink, still expressionless. He frowns.

He doesn’t like that look on you.

Your fingers dig into his arm before you look back up at him. You smile sweetly, but it’s forced. Your hands slightly tremble as your smile strains to stay. “Let’s go back. Please?” 

“G-go back!? He tried to kill me -” Fontaine starts, enraged that he was just choked, that you’re the one to calm the beast; he wouldn’t be in this predicament if it wasn’t for you. If you had just -

“Fontaine.” 

Dion calls his name, a threat and a promise. The mentioned man zips his mouth, shaking. He cowers into himself, and your husband finds the sight funny. He was talking so much shit and yet now he’s fearing for his life. A moment of silence passes before Grizelda steps in.

“Let’s… keep quiet about this.” Her hands rest on your shoulders as she looks at her older brother. She gives him a look - silently warning he shouldn’t act this way in front of you. She squeezes them and he finds himself wanting to shove her off.

He doesn’t, exhaling to calm down. Slowly, gently, like you were giving a reward to a dog, your hands enclose, or at least try to, around his hand. Your thumbs rub against his knuckles. A spark goes up his spine, but the thrill disappears once he realizes you’re only doing this to calm him down - to spare Fontaine’s life. 

He’s confused, angry, but you’re his everything. A pause before he grabs your hand and walks away, almost pulling you but not quite. You let him, Grizelda hesitating to let go. You don’t struggle, don’t tell him to stop - you just follow.

Your mouthed words repay in his head -

Not yet.

= = =

Tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @queenofspades403 @pix-stuff @manitscold @darkumbreon92 @s-ajia @disappointment-san @louissatturi @cjafjatkstke @rainofcrime @danae-misfortune @kokomi2 @semi-wife @labryel @rentaldarling @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[petermorwood]

More Sword Questions...

These are further questions prompted by a post already long enough that I’m not reblogging the whole thing.  It’s here.

@softness-and-shattering (who posted the original Ask) wrote:

Thank you so much! What Im getting is that there arent any exact rules, different people and places mixed and matched sword features as they liked. Is that more or less correct? The swords that are green, is that oxidization? Theyre very pretty. And if fullers are to reduce sword weight, what are ridges for? Thanks again :)

*****

(1) Yes, it's oxidation. The uncomplimentary word is "tarnish", the complimentary word is "patina". Bronze swords in museums can be various colours ranging from green (verdigris)...

...through golden...

...to shades of brown and almost black.

I don’t know why (archaeological metallurgy is a mystery to me) but at a guess it's related to the acidity of the ground in which they were found, the proportions of copper / tin / other metals in their bronze.

It may also be the point at which conservators decided they'd gone far enough with that particular artefact and further restoration / cleaning would cause damage.

*****

(2) Ridges on sword-blades add stiffness, is the remnant of the bar or rod of steel from which the sword was made, and are created as the blade's final form is hammered out on either side, leaving a sort of raised centre-parting.

(If this is over-simplified or just plain wrong and swordsmiths reading it are going "Nooo!", please correct me!) ;->

Here's one example with a very prominent ridge, from the Victoria & Albert Museum in London...

...and another with a more restrained centre-line from the Metropolitan Museum in New York.

*****

(3) Sword shapes and features changed depending on functional requirements. If a shape worked and its use didn’t change, it stayed the same. The Roman gladius and Japanese katana are two examples of not much change in shape over several centuries.

Demands of fashion also played a part in what kind of sword was worn when and with what.

While swords (not just Messers or falchions or other "fighting knives") do appear without armour in medieval art...

...swords only became a regular part of civilian dress in the mid-late 1400s.

In Germany this was called a Reitschwert - "riding sword" - for self-defence when out (riding) in ordinary clothes. In Italy it was a spada da lato - "side-sword" - for what's now called EDC (every-day-carry) not just in war. In Spain it was an espada ropera - "robe sword" - for wear with regular clothes rather than armour.

That last one, worn down, mispronounced or just plain pinched, became "rapier", and because it was worn every day, with stylish garments, it became yet another way in which to show off.

The most common Europe-wide rapier was a "swept hilt", comprising bars and loops, while Spain and Spanish-influenced places like Italy preferred the "cup-hilt", which had a different style of swordplay.

Cup-hilts are familiar from movies because it's easy to dress up a sport-fencing sword as something much older. Here's a stage-combat modern épée and two real rapiers.

Cup-hilts could be plain metal bowls like those, or beautiful examples of chiselled, pierced metalwork.

Swept-hilts could be equally impressive.

They were proof that their wearers were dedicated followers of fashion, men of wealth and taste - and, of course, always armed and just as always ready to use what they carried at the drop of whatever was just dropped.

Duelling became a craze, laws against it were ignored, any excuse would do, and Shakespeare summed it up nicely:

MERCUTIO:  Nay, and there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou? why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast; thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? With another for tying his new shoes with old riband? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling?

(That one about the doublet had echoes in 1922, with The Straw Hat Riot in New York, involving assaults on men who hadn't stopped wearing straw hats by the fashion-approved date of mid-September. At least nobody got run through...)

Oddly enough, portraits which include rapiers usually show swept-hilts, even in Spanish portraits where cup-hilts might be expected (I've seen a couple, but not many). Perhaps the artist didn’t have one to hand, or thought the swept-hilt style was more visually interesting.

The smallsword (shorter, lighter, less cumbersome to wear) replaced the rapier, and it too featured a lot in portraits. It was a piece of masculine jewellery, with a stiff narrow blade on an elegant hilt which might be metal...

...or some more exotic material like mother-of-pearl or porcelain.

Then fashion changed again, smallswords also went away, and once again the only people wearing swords on a regular basis were uniformed military types, whose swords could be all sorts of shapes and sizes depending on branch of service and function.

Even when that function is just to be part of regalia, and look good on parade.

[totallynotpochacco]

I really like your writing for idv . If you dont mind can I request headcannon for Frederick and Victor with a modern idol s/o ?

“To love the famous.”

Contains; a crappy title; fluff; maybe a tad oc?; I wrote this at 1 am so it sucks;

In your era, you’re a famous idol with the voice of an angel. Loved by all and adored by many. Yet no one will adore you or love you more than him.

Victor

He will listen to you talk for ages.

If he’s being honest, Victor lives for your voice.

Since he doesn’t really have one of his own, yours makes up for it!

He has wrote to you before in a letter that, “Your voice is confident and determined, yet so soft and loving. The conundrum of it all has me weak.”

Your number one fan hands down.

He supports you no matter what and will help you any way he can.

Wick is your second number one fan!

She will bark along with your singing <3

Victor loves the small lullaby’s you’ll hum at night while you hold him.

It’s extremely comforting and makes him feel so loved.

During bad times, he’ll think of those moments and lightly hums the songs to make him feel better.

Let’s say you werent at the manor and he was able to attend your concert he’d be so excited

Very enthusiastic clapping coming from him

Doesn’t want to seem like he’s using your fame to get special treatment so he’ll buy front row tickets to support you

He’s doing the best he can, and he loves you a lot

You have something he could never have, yet he respects you and cherishes you for it <3

Fredrick

He’s impressed, and will definitely help you practice.

Your each others muses <3

He’s written beautiful pieces in your name, and it’s only fitting that you do the same!

A surprise performance featuring your newest and unreleased song dedicated to him, yet not specified, has him blushing from his piano.

He’d never let anyone see, trying to hide and focus on his art.

Will kiss you gently and passionately behind stage as a thank you.

Takes you on a romantic date to further prove his gratitude.

When he has his moments of frustration as new melody just won’t form together, he reverts back to playing your tunes until it clicks.

If that doesn’t work then he’ll seek you out, silently and embarrassingly asking you to hold him. Letting your fingers brush through his pale strands to relax him.

He hates showing his weaknesses, but sometimes he’ll let his emotions slip during powerful moments.

Like when he’s mid performance, with you in the crowd, and he’s giving it his all. Fingers hitting the keys at rapid speeds and with force. Letting the music speak for his feelings.

Fredrick also somewhat famous, will either be on stage with you or in the front row, dead center, so you can see his tiny smile when you lock eyes.

He doesn’t always mind being treated like any other fan but he finds it ridiculous that he has to wait outside of your dressing room, even though he’s your partner. It’s not like he’s some crazed paparazzi for heavens sake.

He uses his title as your boyfriend, and famous piano player, to get into whatever places he wants.

If it’s in his arsenal he’s going to use it.

I’m sorry for not posting in a while, take this as an apology!

[ritsugaminge]

❥ Four players ❥

Pairing : F Reader x roommate Heeseung x class partner Sunghoon x best friend's older brother Jake 

Synopsis : Welcome to college, where the latest craze is this app that lets you make out with the three hottest guys on campus : You get one good and steamy fuck with each of them, no second chances. Are you up for making a reservation? 

Warnings : smut with a story, foursome, voyeurism, kissing, a bit of dirty talk, blowjob (f and m receiving), protected sex, masturbation (m)

Word count : 3.5 k

While you were busy unpacking inside your dorm room, the buzz of excitement from the other girls was hard to ignore. Still, you tried to focus on sorting your stuff until your door suddenly swung open and out of nowhere, a girl flung a newspaper at you. 

“Uh thanks? I guess..” you said, grabbing it from the floor. 

The headline said 'New School Year, New News'. You opened it and a glaring pink page with 'PLAYERS' caught your eye.

“The tradition’s back and hotter than ever! Our college’s finest are on deck and eager to meet you. Make sure to snag your reservation ASAP!”

/!/ Just a heads-up—each guy is a one-time-only deal! Download ‘PLAYERS’ to lock in your date!

You stared at the words in front of you, your brain refusing to process. 

This couldn’t be serious… could it? 

A nervous laugh escaped as you tossed the newspaper onto your bed, but your eyes were drawn back to it—back to the three impossibly gorgeous guys in the pictures, especially the one with dark hair and those lips… 

Oh. No. Wait. 

You snatched the paper up again, heart racing. Was that… Jake? Your best friend’s older brother?

The guy you used to have the biggest crush on?

"What the heck is he even doing here?" you nearly choked, your eyes scanning his ridiculously gorgeous photo from top to bottom.

"Well, that’s my room," a deep, amused voice replied.

You turned, startled, to find a tall, stylish brunette guy standing here, and… hold on… didn’t he look just like one of those guys in the pictures?

He glanced at the newspaper. “Oh, it’s out already?” he said, tossing his bag onto the bed right next to yours.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a girl’s room?” you asked, absolutely stunned, as he casually unpacked his underwear and slid it into a drawer like it was the most natural thing ever.

“It’s not the first time the administration messed up, and trust me, they won’t bother fixing it,” he said, now plugging in his gaming console like it was just another day.

“I’m Heeseung, by the way, in case you didn’t know. What about you?”

You stood there, frozen for a moment, trying to wrap your head around the whole situation before finally managing to stammer, “I’m, uh, Y/N…”

He then left as quickly as he arrived, leaving you by yourself. 

“I think I need to get some fresh air.” You thought, putting your jacket on and finally leaving the room. 

You plopped down at a small table after ordering your iced tea, letting out a dramatic sigh as you dropped your head onto the table.

Seriously, how is it that the first time you see your childhood crush again is in a newspaper article about sex?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of squealing girls. You opened your eyes and lifted your head to see a group of them swarming around a guy with impossibly fair skin and a jawline so sharp it could probably slice through steel. 

“Damn, he could cut someone with that…” you whispered to yourself, half in awe, half in disbelief. It only took a glance to realize this was the third guy from the newspaper—Sunghoon. 

After a moment of hesitation, curiosity won out. You couldn’t resist, so you downloaded the ‘PLAYERS’ app. What harm could it do to see what the fuss was all about ? 

The app opened up with three separate calendars, each dedicated to one of the boys. You noticed that this year’s lineup featured Jake, Sunghoon, and Heeseung, but last year, it had been different guys. 

Their schedules were already packed, a clear sign of just how insanely popular they were.

“This is a bit much,” you thought, unable to wrap your head around the idea of girls actually booking them. “Ridiculous.”

After finishing your tea, you headed back to your room. With Heeseung nowhere in sight, you took a quick shower and went straight to bed, dreaming about the app and those handsome guys. 

“Pair up with the person who has the same number as you!” the professor announced, and you glanced down at your paper, seeing the number two. 

Just then, a warm breath tickled your ear as a voice whispered, “Looks like we’re together.”

You turned around to find Sunghoon standing there, his own paper showing the same number two, a shy smile playing on his lips.

You had a big essay to write for your first-semester final grade, and while you weren't sure if being paired up with this guy was a blessing or a curse, his cute smile made you forget all your doubts. 

You both decided to continue working on the project in your dorm room.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor amidst a sea of books and a laptop, you were deep into your research when he broke the silence.

"You really read this newspaper?" he asked, grabbing the paper from your cupboard and raising an eyebrow.

"Well, a girl literally threw it at me, so I figured I had to read it," you answered, a little embarrassed. 

You both locked eyes for a moment, the silence stretching between you. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "So, are you planning to book a date with one of the guys?"

His sudden question caught you off guard. "Aren’t you one of the guys?" you shot back. "I mean, I’m technically on a date with you right now."

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your response, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Trust me, it’s REALLY not the same."

Your ears turned a deep shade of red at his boldness. 

“What do you mean, ‘not the same’?” you asked, your voice more curious than confused, even though you already knew the answer.

“Well, on those dates, we do something more like this…” he murmured, leaning closer.

Your breath caught in your throat as his face moved closer to yours, the space between you shrinking by the second.

Your eyes locked on his lips, unable to look away, drawn in by the anticipation hanging thick in the air. 

You could feel your heartbeat quicken,

but before you could even form a thought, the door to your dorm burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud. 

You both turned to see Heeseung standing in the doorway, his eyebrows raised, a silent question etched across his face. 

“Come on, not in my room, Sunghoon!” he said, exasperation dripping from his tone as he kicked his shoes off and flung himself onto his bed.

Sunghoon let out a long breath, leaning back and creating a bit of space between the two of you.

“Relax, Heeseung. It’s not what it looks like,” he explained, his voice calm but a bit defensive. 

“We’re not on a date,” he added, shifting his focus back to his laptop, as if that would make the whole situation disappear.

For the next 20 minutes, the room was quiet except for the occasional sound of Heeseung tapping away on his phone.

You and Sunghoon continued to work, your concentration only broken when Sunghoon suddenly stood up.

 "Alright, I'm heading to my room," he said, offering a quick wave.

You watched him leave, glancing at the clock to see it was already late afternoon. 

A shower sounded like a good idea before you had to meet your best friend for dinner.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath before slipping out of your clothes and stepping into the shower.

The warm water cascaded over your skin as you pulled the curtain closed, letting the heat relax your tense muscles. 

As you began to rinse out your shampoo, the creaking sound of the bathroom door swinging open made you freeze. 

“Heeseung! Come on, didn’t you hear I was in here?!” you yelled out as you peered cautiously from behind the curtain, pressing yourself against the wall. 

“I have to go to the bathroom—it’ll be quick,” he called out as his footsteps drew closer.

You cringed when you heard the toilet seat lift, and you stood still, counting the seconds until he would leave. 

But then, your gaze drifted to the mirror, and from behind the curtain, you could see him reflected in it. 

The fuck is wrong with me? you thought, trying to tear your eyes away but finding it impossible to look anywhere else.

Your gaze lingered on his dick. Yes.

It was thick and veiny even in its relaxed state. The deep tan gradually faded into a lighter, pink shade near the tip.

You swallowed, feeling your cheeks grow warmer, a blush creeping in as you struggled to tear your eyes away. 

You were so fixated on it that you didn’t even notice him approaching the shower. Suddenly, the curtain was yanked open, and you let out a startled shriek as your naked body was exposed to his gaze.

“I saw you spying on me,” he said with a smug smirk.

Words failed you, your mind scrambling for a response.

Should you apologize, admit you’d been caught staring? Or act like it was all just a misunderstanding? 

But you didn’t have time to decide—Heeseung stepped into the shower, water immediately soaking him through. His clothes clung to his toned body, revealing every contour beneath the wet fabric. 

“Enjoyed the view? You know, you could’ve asked—I might have had let you see more,” he murmured.

His eyes roamed shamelessly over your wet body, watching the way water glistened on your skin,

how droplets slid down between your boobs and then thighs. 

You raised your chin, a mix of defiance and embarrassment coursing through you as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well, do you like what you’re seeing?” you countered, trying to sound confident even as your heart pounded.

“Hell yes, I do,” he breathed,

Pressing his lips to your neck, his kisses light but electrifying. 

You shivered with surprise as he let his hands rest possessively on your bare hips, and felt the heat of his tongue as it traced a line up to your collarbone. 

His lips hovered just in front of yours, leaving your lower body tingling with anticipation.

When you inched closer, desperate for contact, he merely smirked and glanced down at you.

“You’ll have to schedule a date if you want more,” he said, stepping out of the shower and leaving you alone, speechless and flustered.

“Excuse me, what the fuck?!” Mia exclaimed loudly in the restaurant, causing several heads to turn in your direction.

“Please, keep it down,” you pleaded, mortified.

You’d just filled her in on everything—the PLAYERS app, Heeseung as your new roommate, Sunghoon as your essay partner, her own brother’s involvement as one of the players, and of course, the incident in your room. 

Mia’s eyes reflected her inner turmoil. “I’m stuck deciding whether to tell my mom about my brother’s college antics, use this to blackmail him into buying me makeup, or just forget it all.” 

She shook her head, then refocused. “But, are you going to make that reservation or not?”

"Mia," you called, barely louder than a breath. "I don't know... should I?" You frowned, totally confused.

"You definitely should," she insisted. "I mean, when else are you gonna make out with guys that hot?"

You nodded, eyes lighting up.

"You're right! I'll book all of them at once!" you said, already reaching for your phone.

"Wait, what?" Mia nearly choked. "Even my brother?!"

You paused. The one you wanted most was her brother. But—

"No, no! Just the other two," you lied, eyes fixed anywhere but hers.

She hesitated, “Mhh, okay, I trust you. But can you really book the two of them at the same time?”

A grin spread across your face.

"Well, they won’t know until they see each other, right? It’s worth a shot.”

Without hesitation, you selected a date for each of them, ready to see how it all plays out.

A few days later, you found yourself sitting in the old gymnasium, resting on a worn-out mat. You'd picked this strange spot on purpose—no one would ever guess what was going on here.

Your heart raced as you checked the time every few seconds, fidgeting with anticipation. 

Finally, the heavy gym door creaked open slightly.

Heeseung’s face appeared, his eyes scanning the empty gym before they landed on you sitting on the mat. 

Surprise flickered across his features—it made sense, since the app didn’t reveal anything about the girls until the meet. But the shock faded fast, and he walked up to you with a confident grin.

"I knew I'd be seeing you soon. You couldn't resist after seeing my dick.” 

You stared at him in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say.

"It’ll definitely be better if we don’t talk, that’s for sure," you thought to yourself.

Without a word, you gave him a small hand gesture, signaling for him to sit next to you. 

Then, your hand slowly reached up, fingers gently wrapping around his chin, guiding his face closer to yours. 

Your heart raced as you leaned in, and without a second thought, you pressed your lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss.

Both of you closed your eyes, sinking into the moment, letting everything else fade away. 

His hands found their way to your neck, holding you firmly, while your arms slid around his, pulling him even closer. 

The old gym fell into a still silence, the only sound breaking through was the soft, rhythmic noise of your lips meeting, filling the empty space around you.

Then, you slipped off your shirt, and he forcibly laid you down on the old gym mat.

As he turned you onto your stomach, his tongue began a slow, teasing journey down your back, tracing every curve with warm, sensual strokes.

He then made his way up to your shoulders, his breath hot against your skin.

Pressing himself against your ass, he let out a slight smirk, his ears turning a deep red from arousal.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” 

His fingers fumbled with the clasp of your bra,

But just as he began to undo it, the door creaked open once more.

You both turned in surprise, only to find Sunghoon standing there, his face in disbelief as he took in the unexpected scene.

"Come here, Sunghoon,” you breathed out softly, the words slipping out in a hushed, desperate tone. 

He approached you, eyes full of a mix of desire and uncertainty.

Without a word, both of them began to explore your body, leaving heated marks as you laid exposed on the mat.

Sunghoon dipped his head, his face brushing against your thighs he kissed softly, breathing deeply of your scent before slowly and carefully sliding your panties off. 

He began to eat your pussy out with a raw, angry passion, as if he demanded even more of you, making you a moaning mess beneath him. Each touch and stroke drove you wild. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, leaving you gasping for air. 

At the same time, Heeseung focused on your boobs, his hands eagerly molding and caressing them. His tongue traced over your sensitive nipples, circling and flicking with a mixture of teasing playfulness and intense desire, each flick and swirl sending shivers down your spine.

"‘Ugh Sunghoon, I’m going to…” You tried to gasp out,

But the intense pleasure left you unable to form coherent words. Your body trembled uncontrollably as waves of ecstasy overtook you, coating his mouth with your juices. 

Sunghoon’s smile grew as he savored every last bit, his tongue sweeping across his lips, licking them clean.

‘‘You taste sweet, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice filled with pleasure. 

Trying to steady your breathing after the intense orgasm, you crawled over to him, hands shaking slightly as you worked to undo his pants. You reached inside his boxers, your fingers wrapping around his long, throbbing cock, drawing it out with a gentle grip. 

“Let me return the favor,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the tip in a lingering kiss. A deep, pleased “hmph-”’ escaped him as he savored the touch.

“Don’t forget about me, Y/n” Heeseung put a condom on his shaft and started to thrust into you, while you tried desperately to hold onto Sunghoon’s.

But then, you looked at the gym entrance and froze. 

Jake, your childhood crush, was staring at you, his expression unreadable.

“Jake…?” you breathed.

His eyes stayed locked on you, full of unspoken emotions.

“Y/n, I never thought…” he began, his words trailing off into silence.

You paused, and with a provocative glint in your eye, you slowly met his gaze and said, “Come join us…” Your voice was smooth and enticing as you continued to pump Sunghoon’s dick, his panting breath echoing in the room. 

Jake inched closer, his eyes locked on the steamy scene before him. 

Heeseung’s dick was deep inside your pussy, while your mouth was taking Sunghoon’s all the way.

The sight stirred a flush of excitement within him :

Actually, it made him completely horny. 

Without thinking, he started to palm himself through his pants, feeling the stickiness of it pressing against him. When he finally pulled it out, a stream of precum dribbled onto the floor. He was so aroused that it looked like he pissed himself.

To him, you were always more than just his sister’s best friend; 

You were the girl who effortlessly captivated his heart. 

Even as you both grew older, there were nights when the thought of you kept him awake, moaning your name as he reached his high,

and yet, he kept his feelings buried, respecting the bond you shared with his sister. 

But now, seeing you standing there, so pretty, it's as if a switch flipped inside him : all his suppressed desires came rushing to the surface and ignited a fire he could no longer ignore.

His eyes were fixated on you, unable to tear themselves away, as if you were the only thing in the room. 

His cheeks reddened with a heat that spread through his body, his breath hitching as he bit his lip, trying to stifle the words bubbling up inside him, but they slipped out anyway.

“Y/n, show me more. Be pretty for me,” he whispered, the words tinged with an aching desire. 

You shifted closer to him, offering him an unobstructed view of your sweat-slicked, flushed body. 

You angled yourself just right, allowing him to take in the full, tantalizing view. 

You could feel his gaze drinking in every inch of you, exactly as you intended. 

You removed Sunghoon's dick from your mouth as his semen sprayed onto your cheek. 

His eyes fluttered shut, a gasp slipping from his lips as pleasure coursed through him. 

“Ahh..” His voice broke into a low, desperate groan as you continued, drawing out every drop left. 

But just as you thought you were in control, Heeseung’s hand found its way to your clit, his touch a jolt of pleasure that made you gasp, the sensation only intensifying as he kept thrusting, deep and unrelenting, inside you.

As you and Heeseung were both on the brink of cumming, the sudden, harsh bang on the gymnasium door startled you, followed by a stern voice shouting 

“No dates in the gymnasium! Some students reported hearing strange noises, so I know people are inside ! Get out before I go get you !” 

The four of you exchanged silent, wide-eyed glances before quickly scrambling out of the compromising positions, hurriedly pulling on your clothes and attempting to smooth out your disheveled appearances. 

Walking out of the gymnasium, you caught the janitor’s astonished stare, clearly stunned that all three 'players' had been inside. 

“Sorry for the mess, sir,” Heeseung stammered out, trying to pull off a look of innocence.

The four of you managed a few steps before the embarrassment took over, and with a burst of laughter, you all started running, fleeing the scene together.

Well, that clearly didn’t turn out the way you imagined.

But still, you did it. You played with the three players. 

The group of you stopped behind some bushes, gasping for air. 

“Well, it was a bit short, but I guess it was fun,”  you said, smiling between breaths.

“Nah, we didn’t go all the way, so it doesn’t count,” Sunghoon interrupted with a smirk.

“Exactly,” Heeseung added with a grin, “looks like another date will be necessary.” 

You found yourself trying to meet Jake’s gaze, but his eyes were already deeply entrenched in yours.

 “That’s right,” he said, his killer smile—a smile you had always adored—lighting up his face. “But I want to have one alone with you this time.” 

You were startled by his statement, a wave of hope washing over you as you wondered if your long-time crush was finally being reciprocated.

"And not through the app. I’ll be in touch soon,” he said, leaving the three of you standing there. 

You watched him go, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. 

“Damn,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence with a smirk.

“Jakey’s got a crush on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation as you realized your college life was just beginning.

END

[diejager]

Please I'm begging you to do the trapper/ Evan nsfw headcannons🙏

I’m gonna be honest, Evan’s a hard one simply with how little there is about his character in his lore, but this is what I got from him.

Trapper nsfw headcanons

Pairing: The Trapper | Evan MacMilan x fem!reader

Cw: hard dom, soft dom, aftercare, possessive behaviour, rough sex, cuddling, predator/prey, master/pet, pet names, praise kink, tel me if I missed any. Wc: 1k

Evan is a very like-father-like-son character, where the saying “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” becomes much too realistic. Before his crazed massacre, the sudden shift in his mind from a calm and controlling person to a bloodthirsty and power-hungry killer, he thrived on control, the dominant figure in a familiar —patriarchy. Despite every clue and fact hinting at him being a control freak, dominating and intense, he knows how to level himself out, watching, calculating, and seeing whether or not his roughness fits the moment. 

If the moment’s, he’d be the leading figure with an iron hand and unchanging will, bending and pushing you in ways that would usually test someone, test their dedication, but he knew the limits, to keep an eye out for your subtle cues of discomfort or apprehension. 

Evan could easily be the hard dom, making you bend to his will, hissing and degrading you down to his toy, something existing solely for his pleasure. He likes making you obey him willingly, to witness you submit to his words, mewling and moaning around him or gagging on his cock, shoved down your throat with little care for your pleasure. He might occasionally give you orders that he knows you wouldn’t be able to fulfil, to make you swallow him whole when you could hardly take half of him in your mouth; to make you cum around your fingers when he knew they were too small compared to his thick and rough ones; and forcing you to adhere to his games.

Along with his dominant countenance, Predator/prey is something he likes, the chase and the adrenaline of hunting you - without his bear traps, he can’t have you wounded and bleeding, crying because of him in fear of what he could do more to hurt you - so that he can fuck you once he gets his hands on you. He’s a killer, it’s almost instinctual, the need to hunt and ensnare his prey. Running made him feel high on adrenaline, trying to catch you and make you submit to him through rough gestures and a harsh hand.

That came hand in hand with another kink of his —Master/pet. After a long or short chase, he’d show you your place: under him. Rather than the usual version, he hated being called master, he preferred being called your owner, your hunter, and you, the little hare he caught, the beautiful and weak rabbit he found ensnared in his game. If he feels like being mean, you’d be nothing but a toy to him, grounding his hips down, rutting roughly against you. It riles him when you start crying, pretty tears rolling down your cheek when he’s being so mean to you, using you until you feel overstimulated, cunt wet and swollen, overflowing with cum. Your sweet, sweet wails and pleads for him to stop, to let you rest, anything that made your face flush, back arch and voice crack turned him on.

If not; if you wanted something soft, gentler from him, he’d be the guiding hand with praises and encouraging words. He was soft, gentle and caring even as a dominant figure, asking you if you wanted this, asking you to tell him what you wanted and if you wanted it, waiting for any stutter and hesitation in your voice to stop whatever he was doing to care for you, shushing your anxiety away with coos and grounding pets.

Evan likes holding you when he’s being soft, getting every moment he can to touch you and be as close as he can be with you. He’d fuck you slowly, moving his hips at a slow and gentle pace, chest touching your back while he pushed in, hands holding you flush against him with your fingers locked together. It was like a slow dance with your hips bucking back and him snapping forward, driving in with purposeful and calculated thrusts to drive you insane with pleasure. He’s very touchy during and after it, determined to keep a part of himself stuck to you, be it his hand, his chapped lips, or his scarred cheek, he liked being able to hold you close, cuddling you after a night of frivolous affairs.

Aftercare is also an integral part of him, whether or not he was hard or soft with you, you deserved aftercare on any occasion. Evan’s a caring and protecting lover, his broad figure acting as a deterrent for any other killer, keeping you from harm’s way and safe by his side, his vulnerable and dependent survivor, one to call his own. He’d lay you down, admiring your panting form, eyes closed and mouth swollen, your hands blindly searching for him when he left to get a towel. He’s careful when he wipes you down, cleaning off the sweat and cum on your body so that you wouldn’t wake up groggy and uncomfortable the next day. 

There’s more to him than a mindless and apathetic killer whose mind fractured and craved for blood to do more than just feed The Entity’s abyssal stomach, Evan MacMilan might be rich, he might’ve been the perfect son of a wealthy family built on blood, pride and greed, but to him, you are more than an object of his affection and obsession, you were his heart. In your smaller hands, beating and undying, was his heart, pulsing strongly with how much love he held for you. You could be the richest, the poorest, the sickest or the healthiest person in the world, but to him, nothing mattered more than being with you. 

Evan’s had a hard life, expectations, responsibility and maturing too young, he craved something simple much like the choice of his tools, simple and old bear traps, cheaper and more efficient than any gun he could've bought with his father’s fortune. He craves a simple life with simple means, away from the gruelling yet familiar way of his childhood, perhaps you were the start of it, stemming from the darkness of her realm.

[footygirl114]

Cervecería (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Hi friends, this is a bit late (but better late than never?) The one I was inspired to write post that champions league win with Alexia beelining it to someone in the crowd. It’s definitely not the best thing I have written but I know if i keep editing it I’ll scrap it so this is as good as it’ll get 

The need to not live through another Canadian winter was the biggest draw that made you start a second business in Spain. Having started a successful craft brewery in Toronto, you knew exactly what you needed to do, when you brought the craft beer craze to Barcelona. 

You had been in the city for 7 months, your restaurant had only opened a month ago but you were happy with how it was going. It was a process to get it open, but once you realised you needed to find someone who spoke both Spanish and Catalan and was familiar with the restaurant business it became a lot smoother. 

You had found a spot near to the downtown without being ridiculously priced, you wanted to draw tourists but you also didn’t want to scare away any locals. The starting days were slow but as more advertising and more interest in different craft beers gre you started to get busier. Fridays and Saturdays were busy enough you had to hire extra staff, but during the week you liked to be the one behind the bar. 

The whole reason you got into the brewery business in the first place, was because you loved to connect with people and share your love of beer with them. The best way you were able to do that was to be the one serving it, plus it was helping with learning Spanish. 

You also drew in a unique crowd on game days, you had all the subscriptions from back home which meant you were able to play many American sports. You also always had at least one TV dedicated to women games. 

About 6 weeks after you opened you were tending the bar on a slow Wednesday night, the crowd had died off after the Barca Femini game was completed, but you still had a few stragglers around. Movement caught your eye where you cleaning tables and you watched a slim female with her hair pulled in a pony tail, black hat and hoodie on walk in and settle at the end of the bar. 

Moving back behind the bar she looked up and met your eyes and immediately you were drawn in to her expressive eyes. You moved toward her and said “Hola, can I get you anything?” 

She smiled at you and said “Agua?” 

You raise an eyebrow at her and ask “You come into a brewery sit at the bar and order water?” 

She chuckles and shrugs and asks “should I sit somewhere else then?” 

“no no no but let me make you a deal” you smile wanting to hear her laugh again.

She raises an eye brow as she asks “What’s the deal?” 

You smirk and step back moving to pour her a glass of water, and a small taster pint of your favourite beer. You place both glasses in front of her as you tell her “I will keep pouring you the finest water all night, IF you try this small glass of my favourite beer” 

She chuckles shaking her head and smiles at you as she holds out her hand and says “deal.” 

You laugh and place your hand in hers, immediately feeling a tingling run up your arm, you tell her “I’m Y/N by the way.” 

“Alexia” she says and releases your hand and grabs the beer glass. She slowly raises it to her lips meeting your eyes over the glass. She holds your gaze as she takes a sip. 

You keep your eyes on her as she places it down and you ask “well?” 

“I can see why its your favourite” she says with a smile. 

Before you can say anything else another customer draws  your attention away. You have to deal with an issue in the kitchen and one with the supply closets. Its almost half an hour later when you make it back behind the bar. When you get back she is standing up looking around for you. 

Smiling you walk up asking her “leaving so soon?” 

She chuckles and says “si, just needed some fresh air. I can grab my bill though” 

You shake your head and say “it’s on the house” 

“Won’t your boss be upset” she asks with a smile. 

You chuckle and say “I think they’ll be okay.”

“well thank you” she says with another smile. Your name is called by another server and you turn toward them as she says “I’ll get out of your hair Y/N” 

You chuckle out a bye before turning and tending to your team.The rest of the night is spent thinking about the Beautiful girl who sat at your bar. You have a feeling you recognise her but are unsure how you would. Until you are closing up and you see her face on the TV, chuckling you can’t help but think how you just embarrassed yourself in front of the queen of football. 

**

You spend the next week elbow deep in testing a new batch of beer. It consumes you when you have an idea and you cannot put it into the taste correctly. Working late one night the bar is pretty quiet apart from a few regulars, you have taken over a table near the far side of the bar which is slightly hidden. Your notes are spread out all over the table and you are completely consumed in them until you hear your name at the bar. 

You had told your staff to act like you are not here, but when you recognise the voice ask for a water you smile to your self and look up and see Alexia sitting at your bar. As you get up to walk towards her you recall that you had seen the Barca team had played earlier in the evening away. 

“looking for me” you ask her as you step beside her at the bar. 

Alexia and your bartender, Sam, turns towards you with their own expressions. Alexia looks happy to see you, and you bartender is giving you the raised eyebrow as she thought you didn’t want to be disturbed. 

“I thought you weren’t here tonight boss” your bartender asks. 

“boss?” Alexia echos.

You chuckle at them both and you say “I’m not here tonight Sam” to your bartender who gets the hint with a chuckle turning away. 

“Boss?” Alexia asks you again. 

Chuckling you move behind the bar and grab a small pint glasses as you tell her “I own the place.” 

She looks at you and with a low whistle she says “Impressive” 

“thank you” you say as you move and pour a glass of another one of your beers. You place it in front of her and say “If our deal still stands this is another one of my favourite beers” 

She grabs it and asks “if you brew them all do you have a least favourite?” 

You chuckle and say “not really, well just the one I cant figure out right now”

“Can I help?” she asks and takes a sip of the beer with a low moan. “sorry that one is really good” she says with a blush. 

You chuckle and say “its cute” and then immediately blush and say “I just cant get what is in my head to translate into the beer. I have this taste I can imagine but I cannot find the right combination of hops and flavours to get it right” you ramble on. 

“What’s the flavour?” she asks with a smile.

You blush almost forgetting she was there during your ramble and say “I am sorry you don’t want to hear me nerd out about beer” 

She shakes her head and reaches across to grab your hand as she says “I kinda want to know everything you’ll share” 

Before you can respond her phone buzzes and she reaches down looking at the screen and then gets up reaching for her wallet. You place your hand on her wallet and say “This one is on the house in exchange for the ramble” 

“You know I can afford to pay for my beers” she says. 

Immediately you shake your head and say “I know you can La reina, but I do really hope this makes you keep coming back” finishing with a wink.

She blushes at the nickname and leans across the bar and presses a kiss to your cheek as she whispers into your ear “You will make me come back.” She then turns and walks towards the door turning at the door with a wink she disappears. 

You continue staring at the door when you hear Sam walk back behind you and say “Nice work boss, I thought you’d lose her with the beer talk” 

You chuckle and whip your towel at her say “get back to work.”

**

The following two weeks you see Alexia 3 more times at your bar, always on days the Barca team plays. You looked her up after the last time and know she’s not playing yet but is very close to being back. You both have flirted but nothing else other than the one cheek kiss has happened. You both just keeping things light and flirty. She has slowly worked her way through some of your staple beers. 

When the next Barca game happens and she doesn’t show up to the bar that night you have to admit that you were very disappointed. You knew that it was all just a fantasy and flirting but it definitely hurt that she decided you weren’t worth it. 

You were deep in the back room tonight still trying to perfect your beer. You kept one small cask in the back room where you used it to experiment with your brews, this time being no different. Your desk back here was covered in notes and you had a white board with formulas and flavours all over it. During the day the back part of the brewery was a hive of activity keeping up with the demand of brewing beers, but at night it was quiet which is when you loved to use the time to work on your own stuff. 

Tonight was no different, you were still a bit hurt and disappointed in your self for being hurt about Alexia so thats why you were staying hidden in the back not out front tonight. The staff knew you were here and knew not to bug you when you were back here. 

So when you heard the door open you didn’t even look back when you said “Sam I thought I told you not to interrupt me tonight” 

You hear the steps falter and someone take a deep breath as they ask “I was just looking for a glass of Aqua”

Immediately you turn and can feel your cheeks blush as you say “Alexia, what are you doing here?” 

She still doesn’t come any closer as she says “I wanted to tell you something, and then if you want me to not interrupt you I will go”

You nod at her and lean back against the desk behind you.

She slowly steps towards you and says “I know you know who I am, and you should know then that I have been injured and not playing for awhile?” 

You nod and smile saying softly “I do know that” 

She keeps slowly stepping closer as she continues “Well that first time I walked in here, was after one of the teams away games. I still wasn’t travelling with the team and I watched them almost lose and knew that I let them down. So I needed some air and went for a walk, I saw the sign on your bar and decided to come in and have some water and then leave.” 

“But you didn’t” you tell her softly as she stops in front of you.

“No I didn’t” she says. “for the first time in a very long time I forgot who I was letting down, I was able to just be me Alexia, not me the captain who let her team down. That was because of you, something about you just drew me in and I kept coming back any time we played so I could be that person again.” 

You smile softly at her and say “I am glad to help.” 

“Last night was my first game back Y/N” She smiles at you. 

You smile back and say “I am proud of you Ale” 

She steps another step closer so she is right in front of you and grabs your hands softly as she says “The only reason I was able to be back last night and not let the team down was because I kept picturing your voice in my head talking about beer. It helped to ground me and remind me that I am Alexia as well as the captain” 

You close the gap even more and move your hand to her cheek as you say “I am glad that you have that then Ale. I am honoured to be able to do that for you” 

She steps closer and looks down at your lips looking back up meeting your eyes you nod slightly and lean in slowly. You feel her breathe on your lips when the door slams open again and Sam walks in as she says “Sorry boss, need to change the keg.”

Immediately Alexia has sprung back from you and you both turn slightly away from each other. “It’s okay Sam come in.”

“I should go” Alexia says “I have training early tomorrow” 

“You don't have to go” you say at the same time Sam says “did I interrupt?” 

“No you didn’t Sam, I was just leaving” Alexia says as she flees the back room. 

“sorry boss?” Sam says with a smirk. 

“Sam?”

“Yeah boss?”

“how did she get back here?” you ask her. 

She shrugs and grabs the keg and says “I may have told her to come back here at her own risk”

“But you still interrupted?” you ask. 

She laughs and says “honestly I forgot, and needed a keg badly. I really didn’t think you would been that position though boss” 

You blush and move to help her as you say “me either”

**

That moment was burned in your brain, every free moment you had your brain was immediately back in the store room. You watched her sit on the bench in the following champions league game, but you at least now knew why she didn’t come in to the bar on that day. You waited the rest of the week for her to show again, she didn’t. 

It was just before bar opening on the day of the second leg of the champions league. You knew that it was home game and you knew that you wouldn’t see her today. You were hoping she would show tomorrow but you can only hope. 

You were sat at the bar, with your note book open and three samples of your newest beer in front of you trying to decide which one would be the closest to the taste you want. You hear the door open and turn and to greet who you would think is one of your servers since you aren’t open and instead you are shocked and say “Alexia! I didn’t expect to see you today.” 

She is dressed in her pre game outfit when she walks closer to you and says “I needed to see you before I go to play today.”

You look at her with a questioning look and ask “you did?” 

She stops right in front of you and says “I cant get you out of my head Y/N” 

“You can’t?”

She turns you and spins you towards her on your stool. She steps right in between your legs and says “I keep thinking about kissing you Y/N, and I know I should be able to focus on football, but I just keep thinking about you” 

“Thats not good than Ale, what are you going to do?” you ask with a smirk. 

She smiles and says “I know what I want to do but I do not have the time for that.” 

You chuckle and move your hands to her hips and you ask “want to make a deal?” 

Smirking she nods and says “what’s the deal?” 

“You go out and with the champions league and you can kiss me as much as you want” you say with a smirk moving your hand to her cheek. 

She laughs and holds out her hand between you and asks “Only if I can take you out on a date too?” 

“deal” and you put your hand in hers shaking it softly. 

“I have to go” she says softly

You nod and whisper “good luck Ale” before turning and grabbing your pen and writing your number down on a piece of paper. You hand it to her with a smirk saying “I hope this will help you focus now”

She smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek saying “I have an objective now I will be fully focused on completing it.” as she backs away slowly. 

You chuckle watching her and say “Good luck la reina” 

**

The month in between the day the deal was made and the champions league final was a tense one, in the best way possible. Anytime you both texted, which was any free time between her trainings and games and your bar, the flirting was relentless. You only saw her twice in the month but she confessed to you that she couldn’t see you or else she would have to, in her words, “press you against the wall and make you see stars.” 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off her either but you wanted to hear her voice, which lead to phone calls every single night. No matter how late you were at the bar she would sleepy wake up just to ask you about your day. 

The day of the final she called you as she was about to leave in a bit of panic. She needed to hear your voice to remind her that she is Alexia too and not just the captain. All of the media and build up of her return was getting into her head and you knew she just needed to be grounded. You happily helped and reminded her of your deal and you couldn’t wait to taste her. 

The bar threw a watch party and it was packed. The mood was sombre at halftime with Barca being down 2-0. You nervously paced waiting for the second half. When it started and Alexia came on at the start of half you couldn’t help but smile.

It was like the team changed with her and when immediately it sparked the team to score 2 quick goals the bar was electric cheering. When the 85th minute rolled around you were nervous, but you knew that once you saw Alexia gather a crappy clearance from the wolfsburg back line this was it. She cut in once around a defender just above the top of the 18 where she lined up and put a screamer in the top left corner. 

That was it, they held on and the bar was electric and the party lasted all night. You snuck away to speak to Alexia briefly on the phone, but she couldn’t talk as she was pulled away. You turned the excitement you had and finally got the mixture right on your beer. You immediately had given samples out to have a second opinion and it was a hit. 

She inspired you just like you did to her. When the parade for the team was organised and you knew they would be coming out side your bar you kept an eye out. Once it was the time for them to come this way, you pushed your way to the front of the crowd. 

When the team came around the corner you hoped that you would be able to catch her. It was like when she came around the corner she could sense you, as she immediately met your eyes and her smile lit up her whole face. 

You watched as she turned and almost sprinted to you, when she reached you she had placed her hands on your hips pulling you in. You placed your hand around her neck with a smile as she says “A deal is a deal Y/N”

You nod and say “You won it all Ale, time for my end of the deal” and you lean and press your lips to hers hard. She immediately presses back and you lose yourself in her forgetting about the crowd around you. You just feel the sparks only she has been able to give you. 

When the need to breathe comes to much you both pull back and you slowly hear the crowd around you again, where you pull back slightly and whisper “wow.” 

She smiles and says “I gotta go finish this thing” with a jerk of her thumb over her shoulder.

Nodding you say “come by after and you can finally taste my favourite beer I just finished” 

She smiles wide “you finished it?” 

“I did” 

“Then I cannot wait, but only if it comes with the finest aqua you have” she says with a smile and you cant help but laugh and press your lips to hers one more time. 

[kkanabel]

caffeine addiction ❃ tatas ❃ chapter 6

bakugou katsuki x reader / coffee shop!au + fashion?au

directory/m.list

⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

words: ~2.6k t/w: mentions of tatas (tiddies)

This show was particularly empowering, almost. While watching it, you felt like power and pride were coursing through your veins (the same way it feels when you drink one of Katsuki’s americanos). The background music was funky and bold, and it perfectly complimented the artistry of the fashion line.

It ended up exceeding your expectations, which were already quite high. Everything about it was hypnotising to you. The minds behind this line were definitely amazing. 

At your front-row seat, you gaped as you took photos of the looks that stood out to you– ones that you’d request to take photos in. They were also the looks that you would immediately try to purchase. Which was a lot.

When the showcase of the line ended, Bakugou Masaru and Bakugou Katsuki went onto the stage and gave a low bow, smiling brightly at the audience and the surrounding cameras. 

Katsuki’s smile was blinding. You could hardly tear your eyes off of him when he looked straight at you and kept waving. The gaze was so intense that you had to turn your eyes away in fear that you might get burnt from how good-looking he is. His teeth were so straight and white. What the hell?

His smile is so boyish and relaxed. In comparison, when his face is relaxed into that regular resting bitch face of his, he looks a little scary. However, he’s still handsome nonetheless. But when he smiles? There’s something about it that could make you faint on the spot. It’s like simping over that one YA novel dude who’s a “bad boy” and never smiles, but he cracks a small smile when he finally falls in love, and then you automatically start chasing him like a crazed fangirl!

Actually, that may be the perfect metaphor to describe Bakugou Katsuki. Either way, you shake yourself out of those thoughts.

When the two left the stage, (you were absolutely not staring at Katsuki’s broad shoulders as he left) your aunt elbowed you. She raised a carefully-manicured hand to sweep back a strand of her hair behind her ear before leaning into you and placing a hand by her mouth to start whispering into your ear. “Is there something going on between you two?”

You scoff and cross your legs together, “No. If we were, I would have told you already! He’s just really attractive.”

Your aunt mirrors you and crosses her legs as well. “Of course he is! He’s the son of people I’ve been involved with!” At this admittance, your jaw drops. 

“I really want to know, but at the same time, I don’t.” You cringe at the thought of your aunt being “involved” with these people. The imagination popped into your head before you even realized it. You cursed your artistic mind for the horrid scene.

You cleared your throat and uncrossed your legs to stand up, reaching a hand out to your aunt. “Anyway, we should head backstage. I’m sure you’re excited to take photos with your uh… college… friends?”

Your aunt took your hand and laughed, not elaborating on the subject. You were thankful. 

After the show, the models were all changing back into their original clothes and removing their makeup.

When you reached the room in the building dedicated to the afterparty, you found a chair so you could swipe through the photos you got of the pieces. They were truly beautiful. You’ll put these photos into your dedicated photo album for fashion inspiration.

Meanwhile, Bakugou Katsuki splashed his face with cold water and stared at himself in the men’s bathrooms. He watched as the water dripped down his sharp features, rolling down slowly before falling into the sink. He grabbed the paper towels and gently pat his skin dry (as per the directions of his mother– “Never rub your face dry!”).

He looked back into his reflection, leaning onto the sink counter. He sighed. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this strongly about someone. Actually, he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this way. His first girlfriend, Tanaka Ayano, made him feel a couple butterflies, but it was nowhere near this level. Right now, his stomach was swirling and he felt his chest tighten. It was almost nauseating. Did he eat something weird this morning?

The blonde felt strange. Why is his body insistent on acting like a teenage boy? It’s been years since that stage of his life! Is this what it feels like to be a late bloomer? He started cursing the higher powers above for making him feel this way. But maybe it was that one piece of slightly suspicious chicken he ate. 

Slowly leaning back and straightening his back and shoulders, Katsuki self-readjusted, listening to the satisfying popping noise of his back and his knuckles. He looked back at himself in the mirror, posing like he was the alpha male.

“You can do this. You’ve been through much worse shit. You can handle one cute girl,” he repeated in his mind. 

He was wrong.

Either way, he exited the bathroom to get ready for the upcoming photo shoot he had with the girl that drove him insane. When he approached the afterparty, his father called him out. “Katsuki, are you alright?” 

Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m just a little… stressed.” He decided not to give his father any further details, saving himself the embarrassment. 

Masaru smiled and rubbed at his son’s back. “Well, whatever it is,” he said, “it’s not good to overthink. Just take it a step at a time.” When Katsuki heard this, he slightly narrowed his eyes at his dad.

He totally knows what’s going on. 

Katsuki decided not to speak any more about the topic, though. The simple idea of his dad knowing about his schoolboy crush was enough to make him grimace. 

After you finished getting dressed into the outfit of your choice, you went back out to the picture-taking area, where you saw Katsuki. You quickly ran over to him. “Bakugou-kun! Your designs were amazing!” 

He froze for a moment when he saw you. You were dressed in a trench coat and a metallic miniskirt with this line’s signature pattern– a pattern that he spent hours poring over. The skirt and the cropped shirt under the coat were primarily his designs. The sight of you in clothes he designed made him strangely embarrassed. And turned on.

He cleared his throat. “Thanks… ‘ya look great.” He said in a gruff voice, looking away to hide his face as much as he could. "Avoid eye contact at all costs," he thought.

You smiled up at him, standing on your tiptoes, regardless of wearing platform heels (also from the collection). “Wow, it feels a little weird being closer to your eye-level in these. I'm so used to having to look up.”

With this, he looked back at you while you were attempting to breach his height on your tip toes. It was dangerously cute. Especially when you went too far on your toes and then started tipping over. He quickly put out his arm and caught you, hands landing on your waist. 

“Careful with that, short stack.” He let go of you and let you regain your balance.

You fixed your hair awkwardly but found the perfect opportunity. “Wow, Bakugou-kun.”

The man in question slightly tilted his head. “Wow, what?”

“It looks like I’m already falling for you,” you say with a straight face, watching for his reaction. The attempt at a poker face fails, however, because a bit of the laugh you were trying to hold back starts exploding out. You start snorting and wiping at a tear in your eye from laughing so hard at your own joke.

He was completely confused for a moment before he realized that you just made the worst joke in human history. “That’s the worst one I’ve heard so far,” he says, poorly containing his laugh, mostly laughing at the fact that you were so entertained by your own words.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot– here are the clothes that your mom put out for you!” you went to a nearby rack and grabbed the clothes from it, handing Katsuki his clothes.

After a couple minutes passed while you were playing Fashion Story on your phone, making sure your fake boutique was fully stocked. When Bakugou came back out of the dressing room, you gaped. He looked like a supermodel. Better than a supermodel, in fact.

The collection perfectly suited him. It was all sharp angles and bold lines, just like him. It framed his face and his figure beautifully, and his mess of spiky blonde hair worked seamlessly with the line’s signature pattern.

He had a blazer with the pattern and wore a dress shirt underneath with a couple of the top buttons undone. The dress pants he wore fit him perfectly, sculpting his thighs and slightly flaring out at the ends. He had on a Masaki watch and a necklace with their famous logo on the chains. 

“Woah. You look amazing!” you exclaimed, immediately turning off your game and placing it into your purse which was tossed onto some random desk. “Wow. Everything suits you so well!”

He flushed under your compliments. It was one of the first times a girl has ever complimented him so boldly without having any romantic undertones. He didn’t know if he felt great that you complimented him or if he felt disappointed that you didn’t have any flirtatious inflections in your tone. It was definitely a combination of both.

He avoided eye contact with you once again.

After the both of you got dressed, you went straight to the photographer. It seemed that Mitsuki just got finished speaking to them, and her face looked sneaky and extremely suspicious. 

When she saw the two of you, she essentially squealed, calling over her two lackeys. “Masaru! Takumi! Come take a look at these two!” She put a hand over her mouth and had a wide grin on her face. “They look so beautiful!”

Masaru came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, giving a gentle but knowing smile to Katsuki, who gave him a very deep frown.

You chuckled, thanking Mitsuki. “Oh, word of warning– I’m not too great at posing. So, I apologize in advance,” you said, looking at the photographer and Katsuki with an apologetic smile. 

The photographer waved you off with a smile. “No worries! I’ve got you. If you guys need any help, I can help guide you.”

You gave him a thankful smile and walked to the photo background and started posing for the photos.

The first one you did, you placed a hand on Bakugou, crossed your ankles, and looked away from him. You were using your prior knowledge from watching models do their work. You still weren’t a professional by any means, but the photographer still praised you. Katsuki, of course, was in the same boat. He was doing quite well, too. 

Mitsuki set out two other outfits for the two of you to pose in. One was an extremely colorful set– Masaki’s signature colors: bright orange, muted green, and silver. The other was an all-black set.

The two of you did great in the colorful set. The photographer placed us in simple but versatile stances, changing it up with one arm movement or leg movement once in a while. They told us to just have a regular conversation to make the photo look like it was candid.

In some of the photos, you and Katsuki were sitting down on a chair. In one, Katsuki was sitting in the chair, and you were told to “possessively wrap your arms around his neck and look fierce”. In another, Katsuki was told to place a hand on your waist and look deep into your eyes.

In the all-black set of clothing, however, is when things got extra suspicious. You recognized these pieces from the show, of course, but putting it on was an entirely different meatball.

These pieces were a little different from the other pieces in the line. Particularly, they were a bit more revealing. The fabrics would be made from organza and a sheer, mesh fabric. In particular, you were wearing a long and completely black evening gown. So, your legs were covered, but the top portion was quite exposed. The chest area was cut out to perfectly frame your… gnip gnops. 

The bottom portion of the dress was draped in multiple layers of organza fabric. When you walked, it would flow behind you and make you feel like a dark, evil princess. The sleeves were similar, made with organza that showed your skin beneath, but otherwise was sewn into a beautiful puffed sleeve that tapered at your wrist.

But the gnip gnops were another issue. 

Either way, when you saw Katsuki, you were appalled. Again. You swore that this man was carved out of marble by some random Greek artist. 

He was wearing something similar to you, an all-black outfit with a dress shirt that looked prince-like. His sleeves were puffed, like yours, but the shoulders were more pronounced. Through the organza fabric, you could see how sculpted his arms were. And they were sculpted. He’d probably be able to crush an apple with only his biceps with no problem. How is a coffee shop barista so buff?

But the part that blew you the most away was this– the entire torso was completely sheer. You could see everything. Including his extremely well-shaped abdomen. And his pecs, which you were concerned may be even bigger than your own.

You gave him a quick compliment and got back to work. It wasn’t good to be distracted by an acquaintance/to-be co-worker(?) like that. 

The posing was about the same with this set of clothing. This time, however, you noticed Katsuki was really trying to avoid looking at you. It was funny, really. He was trying his hardest not to look at your chest. 

The photographer told the two of you to just start having a conversation again while they worked magic in the background. At this point in time, Katsuki was holding you at your waist and you had your hands pressed up against his chest.

“Sorry ‘bout this. Usually, my mom gets to have some control over the creative process on some of the pieces, and she normally makes them pretty different from my dad and I’s stuff.” Katsuki muttered, still avoiding eye contact with you.

In the background, the photographer told him to place a hand under your chin. He did so, angling your face up to his. From this angle, you could see perfectly into his beautiful crimson eyes. They were mesmerizing. In your head, however, you thought, “Lord have mercy…

we must stay focused, brothers!” and tried not to get yourself lost in them.

You smiled and shook your head, saying, “No, I think these pieces are still really beautiful. I’m sorry that both of us have just officially met and we’re both already exposing our tatas to each other.”

At this, Katsuki started straight-up cackling. He still kept a hand on your chin, though. “T-Tatas!?” he struggled under laughs, trying his hardest to hold himself together.

When he was finally done laughing, he started actually making real eye contact with you for the first time today. Without himself noticing, he felt his eyes start to wander lower down your face, eyeing your lips, which were stretched into a smile.

That was the money shot. That shot ended up being the photo that changed the rest of your life.

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. It did become a mild annoyance, though.

a/n: taglist is open! stay safe & stay hydrated, cuties <3

btw, if any of y'all want to see the fashion show i based this off of, it's the versace fall/winter show from 2021.

of course, you guys can have your own interpretation of the masaki brand, but this is how i see it :>

not edited, so please let me know if there are any typos or inconsistencies.

i fully intend for this series to be a relatively chill one, (not one where i spend hours upon hours researching-- which i already have) so i don't have an extremely detailed plan for it (i do have a general plan, tho).

i genuinely made this series because i saw a prompt for "barista sees customer drinking unhealthy amounts of caffeine and is concerned" and wrote this all on a whim. either way, thank you for all of the support! it makes me enjoy writing this series so much more. thus, i will try my hardest!

<3 thank you, guys

directory/m.list

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