#but they needed to cross that final gap with honesty

[waitineedaname]

genuinely cannot get over how similar reigen and dimple's arcs are, how reigen wants to "be somebody" and how dimple wants to be deified and worshiped, and both are willing to lie and manipulate to get there

and then at the end they realize they don't have to be somebody important for everyone. it's enough to just be someone important for one kid who needs them, who trusts them and deserves their honesty

[mitsuyeaah]

DEVIL IN DISGUISE

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“he lies, he bluffs, he’s unpredictable. he is a sucker with a gun, a bad boy with a tainted heart, a villain by the devil’s law.”

cw: sugar daddy!sanzu, law student!reader, nsfw (mdni), smut, implied age gap (late twenties sanzu, early twenties reader), bdsm (gunplay, restraint, blindfold), rough unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism, oral (m & f receiving, cum swallowing), alcohol use (brief), mentions of smoking, mentions of drug use, swearing, pet names (pretty girl, princess, baby), degradation

word count: 11k

a/n: my piece for The #SugarDaddyCollab event by @sleepysnk !! © divider: anlian-aishang

The loud bass of the music reverberated throughout your body, the bouncing strobe lights of the dimly lit club making it hard to navigate through, especially with the sea of sweaty bodies grinding against each other.

You adjusted the black masquerade mask that rested on your nose that partially hid the top part of your face—except your eyes—before reaching for the tray full of alcoholic beverages that were in various interesting colours.

“Oh, I’ll take those. Manager told me she wanted you to specifically serve a private VIP room today, the Golden Room. Quickly! You have to be there before our clients.” Your co-worker swiftly took the tray full of drinks, ushering you away before hastily leaving, her short figure blending in amongst the crowd of people until she was nowhere to be seen.

The Golden Room. It was the most expensive private VIP room that the club had to offer as it had its own floor at the very top of the building, overlooking the bustling nightlife of Roppongi. The private room had its exclusive DJ and mini-bar that catered to the client’s needs—and only their needs—along with a personal server, which was you for tonight.

For the past few months that you’ve been working at this club, you have never been asked to serve one of the private VIP rooms, let alone the most expensive one. You were always down at the main floor serving drinks, blending in with the huge crowd that never seemed to die down, even at early hours of the morning.

Trying to make yourself presentable, you hastily made your way to the main elevators to get to the top floor. In all honesty, you were quite nervous about this, not only was it your first time being a personal server, but it was also because you knew that the clients had money, a lot of money, so you couldn’t afford to be fucking up your job any time soon.

After passing all the other floors in the building, the elevator dinged and its doors slid open to reveal an exquisite room, as expected. You finally knew why it was called the Golden Room, this private space had accents of gold everywhere, from the chandelier down to its marbled floor, it also housed a spacious balcony that overlooked the teeming city down below, this section of the club was so high up that you swore you could almost reach the dark clouds above.

Thankfully, the said clients still weren’t there which gave you ample amounts of time to calm yourself down and be at your best behaviour, you couldn’t afford to lose this job due to a simple mistake.

There were only three people in the room at the moment, you, the bartender who already worked on drinks, and the DJ who was busy fiddling with his controllers, music already coming out of the speakers.

You stood by the mini-bar, waiting for the patrons to walk in so you could warmly welcome them.

The elevator door dinged, revealing a lone man standing inside it. He was fairly tall, rosy pink hair that ended in a long mullet, noticeable scars on either corners of his lips, and deep turquoise eyes that complimented his prominent thick lashes.

The man strutted in, sporting a striped navy blue three-piece suit and a white button up, your eyes followed him as he sat in the middle of the long leather couch that rested against the wall, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on the backrest, his aquamarine gaze already on you.

That’s it? That’s our client? Just him? Questions ran through your mind as no other person walked out from the elevator, just the pink-haired man, all alone.

You realised he must’ve had a shit ton of money to be booking the most extravagant room that this club had to offer, all for himself. Goddamn, rich people really are something else, you thought.

It was awkward.

The pink-haired man stared at you and didn’t even bother hiding it, you felt small under his intense gaze, also making you conscious about the black strapless latex top you were wearing. You shifted uncomfortably, he was still staring at you but that was when you remembered you completely forgot to greet him.

Oh shit. You were too distracted admiring the patron.

Your eyes widened a bit at the realisation, embarrassment slowly engulfing your body as you tried to take long confident strides toward the man, black thigh high boots clicking against the gold-accented marbled floor with every step you took. You plastered a warm smile, standing in front of the patron before introducing yourself and warmly welcoming him.

Well done, already fucking up the job, you thought, but the turquoise-eyed man let out a small chuckle, his voice deep but smooth like velvet, “Aren’t you cute?” He tilted his head to the side, a small smirk forming upon his pink lips. It was a bit hard not to stare at the scar that decorated his face, but you tried your best not to shift your gaze downward, not even the slightest bit.

You let out a shy laugh, “Thank you, I’ll be your personal server for tonight. If you need anything, I’ll be over there, at the mini-bar.” You couldn’t care less about his little compliment, you’ve heard the varieties of it, coming from different types of men that you had previously served.

It was common sense to expect some customers—if not all—to act this way toward the servers, and it honestly sickened you how some men could think that it was okay to talk to women like this. Yes, you and your co-workers were employees of a club but that didn’t give them the liberty to say and do anything they wanted.

After all, you guys were just trying to make a living. The least customers could do was extend their respect to mere club employees.

As you walked back to the mini-bar, you swore you could feel his burning gaze on you but you shook it off and ignored it, after all, he was just like any other man you’ve interacted with in this club.

“Whiskey, on the rocks.” He signalled the bartender behind you before pulling something out from his pocket, you didn’t know what it was but he was writing something, not that you cared.

Shortly after, the bartender set a lowball glass on the tray, the translucent coppery liquid modestly filling the glass, complemented with ice. You grabbed the tray and made your way over to the man situated on the sofa, neatly setting the cold drink before him.

“Sanzu.” The rosy-haired man spoke up from where he sat, pocketing whatever he was writing on and leaned forward to reach for the drink, “Hm?” You blinked at him, unsure what to reply, eyes wide and giving him a curious look

“Name ‘s Sanzu.” “Oh, alrigh—” “Why don’t you come hang out with me a little, hm?” Sanzu cut you off, an expectant look forming in his pretty aquamarine eyes. You awkwardly looked around as if there was someone you could ask for permission, but nonetheless, you hesitantly made your way over to him.

You sat next to him, knees touching together and arms neatly folded on your lap as if you were getting a formal photograph taken. There was ample room between the two of you, although it looked awkward, you decided it would be more awkward if you had sat next to Sanzu so closely, given the fact that you didn’t even know this man and he was a patron.

“I’m not really sure if this is professional. It’s protocol that I am not to sit with any pat—” “It’s completely fine, I personally know the people who own this club.” Sanzu slung one arm on the back rest while the other held the whiskey, bringing it up to his lips.

All you could do was nod, clearly, there was nothing else you could argue about.

Sanzu set the empty glass on the table and shifted his whole body to face you, “Tell me… what’s a pretty girl like you working at a club like this? That glint in your eyes screams innocence.” He lifted the slender hand that rested on the backrest and brought it up to your black mask, tracing each intricate design that decorated it.

His hand ventured further to one side of your face, reaching for the satin bow behind your head that secured the mask, his slender fingers tangling with the loops of the bow before pulling at the loose end, causing your mask to fall on your lap.

How exquisite. Sanzu keenly tilted his head to the side, turquoise eyes brimming with such interest.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” A saccharine smile formed on his scarred lips. You snapped out of your trance, blinking up at him, “Oh, uh, ‘m just here to pay my bills and student loan…” you whispered, a bit embarrassed.

“Oh? And does this club pay you enough to do so?”

It didn’t. Your pay was just enough to get you through each week but you were practically scraping through, most of your meals were from the convenience store and there were times where you didn’t bring any lunch to eat in between your lectures due to your financial situation. It also didn’t help the fact that the weekly allowance from your parents all went to the dorm you rented.

Your parents weren’t white-collar workers like the customers you encountered in this club, they walked with confidence, swiping their cards left and right without a care in the world. Their wrists and neck decorated with heavy and expensive accessories while also donning luxury brands from head-to-toe that were probably expensive enough to pay for at least half of—if not more than—your tuition fee.

You assumed Sanzu was a white-collar worker, seeing the way he strutted into the room earlier, like he owned it, and the way he was neatly dressed and not a single wrinkle on his expensive suit. You also noticed the shiny watch he sported on his left wrist, glimmering under the lights.

“No.” You simply answered, gaze fixed on your hands that were slowly balling into fists.

Where was this conversation even going? You thought.

Was he here to degrade and make fun of your social status? Mock you because you weren’t in the same tax bracket? Flaunt his dirty money in your face? You’ve encountered this many times with other customers, belittling your very existence because of a simple mistake you’ve made.

It never bothered you these days like it did when you first encountered it, you remember crying on the toilet as you replayed the scene of a customer yelling harsh words at you, it didn’t help that they were also quite intoxicated. You were used to it by now but it was tiring, you didn’t need strangers telling you left and right that you weren’t like them.

“What if I tell you I could pay you more? Much more than your job can.”

You met his gaze, brows furrowing as you were confused about what this whole conversation was about. God, was he a businessman wanting to recruit employees? If he was, then this is highly unprofessional, you thought.

“I don’t quite follow…?”

Sanzu just gave you a small chuckle before pulling something out from his pocket and handing it to you, “If you decide you’re too good for this environment, I’m just a call away.” He stood up and made his way towards the elevator, bidding goodbye to the DJ, bartender and you.

He gave you one last smile before the elevator doors shut in front of him, and just like that, Sanzu was gone.

You let out a breath you’ve been holding ever since you entered this room and looked down at the folded piece of paper on your lap. With curiosity, you opened the paper, ‘I’m just getting started’ it wrote, with his number in red ink. You were about to shove it into your pocket until you noticed another paper behind it, your eyes widened.

It was a cheque. Was this what he was writing earlier?

Haruchiyo Sanzu, it stated on the top left corner, but what shocked you the most was the amount ordered to pay you, it was clearly more than what you made in your part-time job and was enough to get you through the week, more than a week, even.

How could Sanzu just give you this much money without batting an eye? Let alone a stranger he had just met. Was he crazy? But then your mind wandered back to the sentence on the other piece of paper, ‘I’m just getting started.’ Did that indicate he was able to give you more?

Surely not.

Boy, were you wrong. You contemplated for days on end whether to call Sanzu or not, it was very tempting but what if he was just bluffing? You knew he wasn’t, you went to the bank a few days ago to check if the cheque was fake or not, and to your surprise, it wasn’t fake. It had the exact amount of money stated on it.

A few weeks had passed when you finally decided to call Sanzu’s number due to the growing desperation for financial aid, you tried your best to rely on yourself and the part-time job at the club but it just wasn’t enough, you needed more. You needed what Sanzu was offering.

You were a bit hesitant to call him since you didn’t know if his offer still stood even after quite a period of time but you were desperate, and plus, it didn’t hurt to try. If he didn’t pick up then you’d have to suck it up and find other ways to support your living, even if it meant bending your back.

To your surprise, Sanzu did pick up, rather quickly, even.

Little did you know that this call was the pivoting point of your life, where you could finally say goodbye to your old lifestyle and welcome a new one you have never experienced before.

Upon meeting up with Sanzu, he had come clean about his intentions and how he was going to provide you anything and everything you ever wanted in exchange for company and sexual favours, and nothing else. A sugar daddy. You knew the offer was too good to not involve some kind of physical factors, but it wasn’t like you were new to sex.

Yes, others might view it as dirty and disrespectful to one’s self that they would simply let an older man ask them for sexual favours in return for the lavish lifestyle, but life was never butterflies and rainbows, life was harsh and as much as you’d hate to admit it, only the richest could survive among times like this where everything was in demand and becoming more expensive.

Looking at the situation at hand, it wasn’t like you had any other choice at this point. If the luxury life was going to welcome you with open arms through a man named Haruchiyo Sanzu, then you’d willingly let it.

You sat inside Sanzu’s white Bugatti Centodieci, on the way to a dinner reservation, the low roaring of its exhaust filling your ears as it came to a smooth halt at an intersection. You’ve been in this luxury car countless times before but you’ve never gotten quite used to it because you knew how expensive this vehicle was; you’ve done your research on some of the brands Sanzu sported, one of them being this extremely flamboyant car.

Your little research told you that there were only ten of the Centodieci models around the world, and Sanzu owned one of them. Your hands couldn’t help but sweat at the thought, causing you to smooth your pleated skirt down to wipe it off, “I like your nails, princess.” Sanzu reached a hand over the console and took yours, his fingers tracing the intricate details of your jewelled stiletto nails. Rhinestones gleaming underneath the bright city lights outside.

Not only were they embedded in expensive rhinestones but some of them were covered in 24K gold foil, costing your appointment at a whopping price but Sanzu never batted an eye when he swiped his card yesterday, no hesitation whatsoever. Last week, he had asked you to choose a nail design you really liked and he would take care of booking the appointment, of course, you jumped at that opportunity.

You knew why Sanzu loved paying for your nail appointments.

“Do you want me to test them out?” You blinked up at him and took his hand into yours, sensually massaging and rubbing it as if it were something else, god, Sanzu wished it was something else. He cursed under his breath at the sensation of his blood rushing down to his cock with need, his other hand gripping the leather steering wheel a little harder, knuckles turning painfully white as you continued with your ministrations,

“You always know what I want, huh?” He let out a breathy chuckle, shifting uncomfortably in his leather seat, cock now straining against his navy dress pants and begging to be let out. Sanzu skilfully manoeuvred his vehicle, taking desperate turns left and right to find a random deserted place to park, although it didn’t really matter if there were people around or not, his vehicle was heavily tinted and he liked the thrill of getting caught.

What were they gonna do? Stop him from getting head? They could try.

The tyres of Sanzu’s vehicle loudly skidded against the rough pavement of the empty parking lot as he desperately parked his car, not even bothering to situate his vehicle in a parking space, it was already evening and no one was around anyway.

“Fuck, come here.” Sanzu groaned, reclining his seat back and pulling your face closer to his own. You leaned over the console to kiss him, knees resting on the smooth material, one arm against the window of the driver’s side for support, and the other gripping the headrest behind his head.

Sanzu craned his neck forward to meet your gloss-stained lips, one hand firmly resting on your chin to keep you in place, while the other wandered elsewhere. His kisses held desperation in them, soft pillowy lips laced with hunger as it moved against your own. The man beneath you let out short erratic breaths that tickled below your nose, occasionally letting out soft eager whines into your lips.

He was usually on the dominant side, but fuck, was he needy when it came to receiving. Not that you complained, though, it was a pretty sight to see him all wrecked and at your mercy. It was priceless to see his authoritative demeanour crumble into nothing but a pathetic whining mess that begged for his cock to be touched and sucked on, even if it rarely happened.

You slightly jerked at Sanzu’s wandering hand that found its way to your inner thigh under the dimly lit car—the only source of light coming from the warm street lights of the parking lot—, slowly massaging and rubbing unfamiliar shapes at the supple flesh and earning a small whimper from you. His hand ventured around your outer thigh and flicked your skirt up, the skimpy fabric that was once barely covering your ass, now rested on your lower back and in full view for anyone who passed by the passenger’s window.

But you weren’t worried, Sanzu’s vehicle was tinted.

A small moan escaped your swollen lips but was swallowed down during the heated kiss with Sanzu as his large hand landed a merciless slap against the fat of your ass, the sharp searing pain from the sudden skin contact spreading across your backside making you wetter, “Put those pretty hands to use, baby.” He broke the kiss, lips ghosting over your own as he panted out, desperate for air to fill his lungs.

Sanzu placed both his hands behind his head and relaxed his torso against the warm leather seat to let you do your thing, his lust-filled turquoise eyes intently following your every move.

Shuffling closer to the evident tent in his pants, you placed your palm over his crotch, roughly palming his erection, causing a deep throaty groan from Sanzu, his back involuntarily arching away from the backrest and hands flying up to the headrest behind his head, gripping on it for his dear life. His eager eyes watched the way your twinkling nails moved against his strained cock, biting his lip at the sight and heat spreading throughout his body.

He loosened the black tie around his neck and hastily unbuttoned his collar so he could breathe better. You gave him a sly smile before slowly guiding the small pull-tab down the teeth of the zipper, the car was quiet, so you could only hear the movement of the zipper and Sanzu’s soft desperate pants, his pink lips slightly parted.

With the help of his hips, you pulled his pants down along with his underwear just enough to release his throbbing cock from its confines, earning a slight hiss from the rosy pink haired man as you firmly gripped his heavy length, your rhinestone-studded nails complimenting his hard cock with your fingers wrapped around him.

Sanzu let out a loud moan as you pumped his dick up and down after spitting at it, you gripped him like a vice, wrist skilfully twisting and tugging at his cock just how he liked it. He could almost cum right then and there at the sight of your freshly manicured fingers wrapped around his length. Fuck, he loved seeing your jewellery-embedded nails around his cock.

You flattened your tongue and licked a long slow stripe up the underside of his dick, earning a loud desperate whine from Sanzu, one hand flying down to tangle into your hair to eagerly tug at it, “Fuuuuuuck…” he breathed out, his bottom lip tightly caged between his teeth as he threw his head back.

God, you never failed to give him the best head of his life, and you were just getting started.

More desperate airy whines slipped past his pink lips as you peppered his length with light kisses, his hips greedily bucking up at you, Sanzu needed more, “Ngh! Stop being such a tease and suck me off already. We have a reservation, remember—ah!” He whined, lust-filled hunger evident in his tone.

Suddenly remembering about the dinner reservation, you didn’t hesitate to put the pink head in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around the blunt tip and primarily focusing on his precum-filled slit that had Sanzu practically writhing in his seat, his face contorting with pure pleasure, back arching, and hips hungrily bucking into your mouth, causing you to hold them down,

“Haaah! That’s it, now take it all in like the good girl you are.” He moaned, breath shaky and unstable.

And so you did. Without hesitation, you slowly slid your mouth down his length while taking deep breaths through your nose just like had Sanzu taught you before. His grip on your hair tightened, earning a loud moan from you which sent vibrations down his cock, “Ohhh fuck, you’re taking me in so—ngh! So well.” You started bobbing your head up and down, taking slow experimental motions with his hard cock sliding against your throat, this caused Sanzu to buck his hips higher, eager to feel the constant friction of your mouth against him.

“Mhm, I told you to stop teasing, didn’t I?” Sanzu growled and swiftly sat up, roughly taking the black tie loosely secured around his collar. He grabbed both your hands and pinned them behind your back—just resting above your ass—, using his tie to keep them in place. The whole action caused you to lean forward, taking more of Sanzu’s cock into your mouth.

Sanzu leaned back into his seat, one hand gripping the headrest and the other going back into your hair as he thrusted his hips in and out of your mouth, “Mhm—ah! That’s more like it. I can’t keep reminding you that I’m still in control here.” He moaned. Sanzu gathered all of your hair and put it up in a make-shift ponytail with his hand, as it obstructed his view from your pretty mouth taking all of his dick.

With his hand wrapped securely around your loose hair, he started relentlessly thrusting up into your hot mouth, his other hand behind his head practically digging into the headrest which he knew was going to leave evident marks but he didn’t care. He didn’t give a fuck about potentially damaging the expensive leather of his car, when you were taking him so so well.

All you could do was sit there and take it, tears uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks which surely ruined your makeup, your knees were painfully digging into the console and thighs burning from the lack of stretch but you didn’t care, all you wanted was for Sanzu to cum into your mouth.

Sanzu’s head spun as he was nearing his high, his head thrown back, lips parted, and stomach clenching from immense pleasure while he kept at his pace. His chest heaved up and down as he let out short airy desperate whines in tune with the movement of his hips, fuck, he was so close.

“I’m gonna cum—ngh! You better take all of my fuckin’ load like the good girl you are.” He thickly swallowed, his desperate whines turning into shallow erratic breathing, only a few more thrusts away before he topped over the edge.

Sanzu’s hips faltered as the rumbling coil deep in his stomach finally snapped, he threw his head back and arched his back as he cummed into your mouth, letting out a loud shameless moan that filled the entire vehicle. You moaned into his dick, feeling his hot cum roll down your throat as he firmly kept your head in place, his hips rolling into you to ride out his orgasm while gripping the headrest behind him, the tips of his fingers hurting from the constant pressure he’s been putting on it.

“Haah, yeah that’s it. Such a good girl.” Sanzu praised, letting go of your hair as you eagerly lapped up some of his cum that rolled down his dick. Before he could undo the tie that bound your wrists together, his phone loudly rang, causing the both of you to jump at the sudden sound.

Sanzu quickly reached for his phone that was inside his blazer pocket and cleared his throat before answering it. “Yes, yes, we will be there soon. Just got held up in traffic.” He chuckled, giving you a knowing look before bidding goodbye to whoever was on the other side of the call.

“They were just confirming if we were still coming for our reservation.” Sanzu laughed as he pulled his tie from your wrists, “Held up in traffic, huh.” You raised a brow at him—throat sore from your recent activities—as you sat into your seat and fixed yourself up with the help of the sun visor mirror. Sanzu tucked himself back in and gave you a breathy chuckle, “That was the first thing that popped into my mind.”

“Also, I didn’t hurt you too much, right? Got really carried away, sorry.” He sighed as he adjusted his seat into its normal upright position, looking at you with concern.

Sanzu knew that he could get too carried away during sex which causes him to become rough and unrelentless. Of course, he had already discussed this with you and to his surprise, you were okay with it, apparently you liked it rough. You shook your head, brushing him off with a smile, “It’s okay, you were enjoying yourself back there.” You laughed, sending him a teasing look.

The man next to you shook his head as he could feel warmth creeping up his cheeks and embarrassment engulfing his body. “Nonsense.” He muttered before turning his car on to make your way to the dinner reservation.

Sanzu’s personality was such a contrast from the first time you met him back at the club, right off the bat, you thought he was a cocky and arrogant individual with the way he acted that night but as you got to know his personality better, he was a completely different person.

The facade that he had on back when you first met him was definitely gone. But was that really a front he just put up? It made you wonder.

Both of you calmly walked inside the exquisite restaurant like you weren’t just sucking him off a couple of minutes ago. Sanzu rested a palm on the low of your back as the waiter guided you to your seats, “Why the sudden fancy dinner?” You looked up at him, his aquamarine gaze meeting yours, Sanzu shrugged, a small smile forming upon his lips, “Just wanted to treat my baby, that’s all. You’ve been so good for me, might reward you more, later.” He leaned closer as he spoke the last line, a hint of slyness laced in his tone.

Maybe you could actually live in this lifestyle.

Ever since Sanzu stepped into your life, there wasn’t a day where you struggled anymore. No more sleepless nights of thinking how to get through tomorrow, no more stressing out about upcoming bills, and lastly, no more encountering drunk nasty old men at the club who sneered at your social status.

You could solely focus on your law degree now. You were getting better grades because the financial stress had been lifted from your shoulders, your mind wasn’t wandering elsewhere during lectures, trying to think of ways of how to ration your pay for the week.

There was no other possible choice for you but to take Sanzu’s offer. If you were going to take the easy way out of your financial stress, might as well do it with someone who splendidly paid you, not only with money but with gifts and mind blowing sex.

You stared at the man sitting across you, as the waiter poured Moët & Chandon MCIII into two flute glasses, the translucent yellow liquid neatly sloshing around the glass. You admired Sanzu’s features as he mindlessly tapped at his phone—work related, he said—his expression unchanging as his thumbs swiftly typed something.

It has come to your attention that you never really knew what Sanzu did for work, every time you asked him, he would just brush it off and say something along the lines of ‘just business related stuff’ and you believed him, you didn’t want to push his boundaries further but you wished he was as open to you as you were with him.

Sanzu was very secretive about his phone calls too; one time, you had seen his phone ringing on his night stand while he was in the bathroom. You were about to grab his phone and take it to him, that was until he came out of the bathroom and saw you reaching for it, he practically lunged for his phone and answered it straight away while walking out of his bedroom.

The only thing you heard from Sanzu as he answered the phone was, “Yes, boss?”. You knew this ‘boss’ was called Mikey since you had seen the caller ID while reaching for his phone. It seemed like Sanzu was working for someone in a higher position than him despite having immense wealth. Who was this Mikey, anyway?

There would also be times whenever you slept over at his penthouse, Sanzu would just disappear during ungodly hours of the morning, sometimes it would stir you awake because he always reached for his nightstand drawer—that was always locked—before he left and sometimes it would make a loud creaking sound whenever he opened it. He always tucked the item he took out from that specific drawer into his pocket.

You never knew what he took out or what other contents that drawer housed because it needed a key to be opened, a key that Sanzu always took with him. You assumed it was something heavy as he had dropped it on the rug one time, causing him to curse under his breath.

There were times where you slept alone in his bed waiting for him to come home during the night but he would never arrive, instead, he would arrive sometime in the morning, very exhausted and looked like he needed a week of sleep.

Was he being overworked? You hoped not.

You knew this relationship between you and Sanzu was just contractual and not built on any feelings but you couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man. Sometimes, when it was his day off and he wasn’t leaving during ungodly hours of the morning, you would catch him smoking out on his balcony instead, which overlooked the city down below. Sanzu would just stare off into the horizon, letting the tobacco completely fill his lungs.

He always looked so… empty.

“I have something for you later, back at home. If that's fine with you?” You were pulled from your trance by Sanzu’s voice. He tucked his phone in his blazer and gave you an expectant look. You nodded your head, “Fine by me, you don’t even have to ask.”

Sanzu was always like this, he always spoiled you. He was so unpredictable, in a good way. He always got you what you wanted and sometimes he would even go out of his way to personally pick and buy whatever he thought would suit you. This man spent money on you left and right without a care in the world, sometimes you would wake up with a big bouquet of roses that scented his entire penthouse because he ‘ felt like buying you one’ as per his words.

During the times you stayed at your dorm for the night, there would be a delivery next morning of whatever item Sanzu decided to swipe his card on, whether it be designer shoes from the most recent collection, overly priced flowers, or clothes that only catered to you, the only thing consistent was that it was expensive, it was always expensive.

You never even asked for most of the gifts he gave you but nonetheless, you were thankful for them. Although, it did overwhelm you sometimes with how much he was spending on you. One time you asked him, “What if you run out of money?” and Sanzu merely laughed at your question but answered, “Baby, I will never lose money. I can guarantee you that.” There was something odd about his tone when he said that but you brushed it off.

Back at his penthouse, you waltzed toward his couch and practically threw yourself on it while Sanzu wandered off to get the item he had recently bought you. 

You still couldn’t believe that he had offered you to stay with him in this penthouse for free but you had to politely decline his offer since you still liked the idea of having your own space, plus, you didn’t even know when this whole thing was going to end, so it was better to be ready with a place to fall back to.

The first time you saw his penthouse, your mind was blown. The interior design screamed modern and luxurious, every corner you turned had your jaw dropping. There was a massive crystal chandelier that hung right at the centre of his living room, the walls were mainly floor-to-ceiling glass which allowed you to see breathtaking panoramic views of the city, it was truly beautiful during sunrise and sunset. The way the warm hues of the sun engulfed the whole space was just phenomenal.

His bedroom was grand and also consisted of these floor-to-ceiling glass, to which sometimes he liked to fuck you against, giving you a view of the bustling streets below as he pounded into you.

“Here.” Sanzu thrusted a rather large brown paper bag into your face, his aquamarine eyes gleaming with pure excitement. You sat up from his couch and took the paper bag, Christian Louboutin it read, written in white font.

He can’t be serious, you thought.

He sat next to you as you pulled out an equally coloured shoe box, which also had the same writing as the bag. “Sanzu…” you gasped, giving him a look of disbelief but he only silently urged you on to open the box.

After several layers of white tissue paper, you were met with a vibrant red shoe bag that had the same writing as the paper bag and the shoe box. As you removed the shoe bag, you were met with the most breathtaking pair of shoes you’ve ever seen.

They were black 130mm heeled platforms, donning its signature red bottom and consisted of a strap that would encase the ankle. The pumps were shiny underneath the chandelier light, causing you to gape at it with a curious gaze as you picked up one shoe. It was your very first pair of Louboutins and you were beyond ecstatic.

With Sanzu’s help, you managed to step into the heels. It was very comfortable despite its daunting heel size; you walked back and forth in his living room, strutting about and trying to get comfortable with the new pumps, the red bottoms loudly clicking against the tiled floors.

With a huge smile plastered on your face, you stopped in front of Sanzu, “Oh my goodness, I am over the moon right now.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest and inhaling his musky cologne. Sanzu stroked your hair, chuckling, “Anything for my baby. You always look so pretty in the things I buy you.”

“Now, how about I reward you for being so good today?” His hand stopped right at your nape and snaked around to the front of your neck, slightly pushing you away and leaning down to give you a passionate kiss, which you didn’t hesitate to return.

This time, his kisses were soft and sensual, like he wanted to savour every single moment with your lips on his but there was a slight desperation in them. You didn’t miss the way Sanzu’s fingers ever so slightly tightened around your neck and the way he leaned forward to try and deepen the kiss.

He didn’t spend much time with your lips and started trailing light but eager kisses down the side of your neck, earning a slight whimper from you as he bit down on a particular spot. Your hands clung to his navy blue blazer, wrinkling the expensive fabric with how much he abused your neck with his mouth.

You were already a whimpering mess and Sanzu hasn’t even done anything to you, yet. He loved how responsive you were under his touches, how the slightest touch he gave elicited the prettiest sounds from you. Such a good girl for him, that’s why he loved spoiling you.

“Wait for me on the bed, princess. You know what to do, everything off except those fuckin’ heels.” Sanzu broke the kiss and gave your forehead a soft peck, ushering you to his bedroom.

You nodded and wordlessly made your way to his room, platform heels loudly making contact with the tiled floor. Every step you took had your heart racing faster with excitement, you knew you were in for a long night and Sanzu wasn’t the one to hold back, especially if you’ve been such a good girl for him,

Before getting on Sanzu’s bed and waiting for him there, you had obeyed his instructions and stripped down every single article of clothing that covered your body, except your new Louboutins. You patiently sat on the edge of the bed, slightly shivering at the contrast of the cool air against your exposed skin, causing goosebumps and your nipples to immediately harden.

If you were being honest, you were already wet. You knew Sanzu didn’t have to do much since you were already turned on from the head you gave him in his car earlier. The way he turned into a whimpering mess despite being so domineering did things to you, it always did and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together at the thought of him.

Sanzu came in a few seconds later, one hand holding his unfastened tie and the other holding handcuffs which mischievously glimmered under the hallway light, “Good girl. Now lie back on the pillows for me, baby.” He gave you a smug smile, his long legs striding towards the bed.

He encased one wrist with a cuff, the audible click of it letting you know that there was no getting away from him now; Sanzu looped the chain that held the cuffs together around the back of a metal bar on his headboard and cuffed your other wrist, both hands now firmly situated above your head. You slightly tugged at the cuffs, it was cold against your skin but you liked it.

Sanzu also brought the black tie up to your eyes, completely obstructing your view from anything, he firmly tied a knot behind your head and gave you a peck on the lips.

With your vision obstructed and your hands bound, you could only rely on your hearing. This made everything much more exciting, the thrill of not being able to see what he was going to do next nor not being able to touch him.

You could hear the rustling of sheets and suddenly, Sanzu wasn’t on the bed with you anymore, you couldn’t feel his weight on the bed. You assumed he was undressing himself as you heard the loud clang of the metal buckle on his belt meet the floor, along with the rustling of fabric.

The bed dipped under Sanzu’s weight as he positioned himself near your feet, he grabbed your ankles and brought them closer to you, effectively bending your knees toward the ceiling. He crawled closer to your anticipating body, watching the way your chest heaved with desperation and mouth slightly parted, smirking at the way your Louboutins dug into the mattress.

He spread your legs apart and started kissing down your inner thighs, alternating between each leg, earning a small moan of surprise from you. Sanzu stopped at a spot dangerously near the apex of your legs, biting and sucking at the supple flesh, causing you to whine and instinctively tug at the metal cuffs around your wrist.

“You’re already so wet for me… have I been neglecting my baby?” He cooed into your wet folds, lips ghosting over them to tease you. Fuck, your scent drove Sanzu crazy, he didn’t even know if he was even going to last but he wanted this to be about you and you, only. He didn’t care about putting his needs last, he wanted you to cum around him, and as many times as you could.

You let out a sigh of content as Sanzu flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your wet cunt, revelling at the way you tasted against him. He watched as you desperately yanked your wrists, making a loud clanking noise as he wrapped his mouth around your cunt, noisily sucking like his life depended on it.

Small whines escaped past your lips at Sanzu’s ministrations but soon turned into a loud moan as he shoved his stiff tongue inside, exploring every single space of your wet heat. His tongue moved in you at such speed that caused you to instinctively close your legs with the pleasure being too much to handle but Sanzu pinned both your knees sideways on the bed, his firm grip letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you close your legs.

“You can’t be doing that, baby. When I’m giving you a reward, you’ll have to take all of it.”

That’s right. Sanzu didn’t only spoil you by buying you expensive luxury items, no, he spoiled you in many different ways, and just like how you kindly accepted the things he bought you, you had to do the same thing with what he was giving you right now. Denying his mouth was equivalent to denying everything he had bought you.

Sanzu alternated between licking and sucking at your clit without faltering, causing you to near your orgasm. He looked up at you from his long prominent lashes and observed the way your stomach was clenching and back arching with pleasure, how you constantly pulled at the cuffs on your wrist hard enough to leave red marks, the way your lips were parted slightly and letting out shallow high pitched whines along with his name.

“Aah! Fuck, Sanzu! I’m going to cum.” Your hips desperately bucked up against his mouth as you came on it, head thrown back against his pillows as you cried out Sanzu’s name in a loud moan, it was music to his ears.

Sanzu lapped up your cum, sloppily licking at your cunt, causing your legs to shake at the overstimulation. If he wasn’t pinning your legs down, you would have tried to close your them already. He gave your cunt one last peck before finally leaving it alone.

You panted against his mattress, legs jelly and mind hazy from just being eaten out, your arms were also burning at the uncomfortable position but you knew Sanzu was nowhere near done.

The night just had begun, and like he wrote in that piece of paper when you first met him, he’s just getting started.

He got on his knees and gave his hard cock a few strokes, groaning at the pleasure. Sanzu placed both your legs over his shoulders and grabbed the base of his cock, teasing the tip of it with your cunt, slowly rubbing up and down your wet folds but never actually putting it in.

“Sanzu, please…” you whimpered, biting your bottom lip. He was so close but not exactly where you needed him to be.

It was truly a sight to see. Your hands bound above your head with handcuffs, your vision obstructed with his tie, your legs resting on top of his shoulders, and your newly bought Louboutins just behind his head.

Wasting no time, Sanzu slowly pushed his tip into your wet heat, already groaning at your tightness but before he could push any further, his phone loudly rang which caused both of you to jump at the sound. “Fucking hell.” Sanzu scoffed, slipping out of you and placing your legs back down to grab his phone from the pile of clothes.

“Sanzuuu, I’m sure they can wait. Please, just fuck me.” You whined, craning your neck as you felt him getting off the bed but he ignored your desperate pleas and answered his phone, “What the fuck do you want, Haitani?” He spat, hastily making his way back to you and placing your legs up on his shoulders again.

Was he seriously about to fuck you while on call? Who was that, anyway?

Sanzu kissed the inner side of your knee before slowly pushing all the way in, letting out a hot gasp and throwing his head back at the way your hot cunt desperately sucked him in, “Ah, fuck! You’re taking me so well, baby.” He praised you, on hand settling on your hip and the other holding his phone against his ears.

“Are you seriously fucking someone right now? Sanzu–” “You’re the one who called me during a very important moment, Ran. Now, what do you want?” You heard Sanzu reply to whoever was on the call, his voice clearly strained.

“Getting your dick wet isn’t important! I was just about to ask you if you wanted to come with Rindou and I.” Ran huffed, Sanzu could tell the older man was rolling his eyes at him.

Sanzu picked up his pace, the way his balls loudly slapped against your ass could surely be heard by Ran. “Ngh—ah! Sanzu!” a loud moan escaped your lips, causing you to quickly bite down at your bottom lip, embarrassment filling you as the male on the other side of the call most likely heard your shameless moan.

“Why would I want to—ah! Fuck! Why would I want to go with you two—ngh!” He shamelessly moaned into his phone, not giving a single fuck if Ran was disgusted or not, he should be thankful he even picked up the call.

Sanzu saw the way you were biting your lip so hard that it was sure to draw blood soon, he didn’t like you concealing your moans so he leaned forward and the hand that was previously on your hip was now situated on the mattress, beside your chest. This position allowed him to get deeper strokes into you, earning a loud cry of his name from you.

He was so deep and deliciously hit your g spot over and over again that you couldn’t help but let out a chain of loud moans, at this point you didn’t even think about the person on Sanzu’s phone, he was giving it to you so good that you had to let him know. The metal cuffs clinked against his headboard as you tried to desperately reach for something to keep you grounded with the immense pleasure you felt.

It also didn’t help with how your vision was obstructed, resulting in your other senses to become heightened, you could feel pleasure at a much higher level.

Ran was saying something to Sanzu but he was too lost in pleasure to even comprehend what the fuck he was talking about. His head was spinning from pleasure, god, you were taking him so well. “Mhm. You know what—ah! I don’t—oh fuck, Princess! I don’t even fucking care at this point, I’m hanging up.” Sanzu threw his head back in pleasure as he chucked his phone somewhere in the sheets but forgetting to actually end the call.

He couldn’t care less. He wanted your cum around his dick.

With the distraction at bay, Sanzu focused on you. Leaning down to suck on your breasts and neck as you panted below him, “Are you close, baby?” he gritted against your neck, jaw tightening at how tight you were around him. You frantically nodded, face contorted with pleasure and lips parted, letting out desperate high pitched whines, “I—ngh! I’m going to cum, Sanzu!” you cried out.

Sanzu leaned closer to your ear, “Fuck, that’s it, princess. Cum around my cock like the good girl you are.” he panted, his hot breath fanning against the side of your neck.

You arched your back in pleasure, chest pushing up against Sanzu’s as you moaned his name, followed by a string of profanities. Sanzu’s hips didn’t falter one bit, despite how tight you became as you clenched around him, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and how much of a good girl you were for him as he rode out your orgasm.

“Ngh—ah! I’m so close.” Sanzu whined as he quickly pulled his cock out of you, desperately pumping it with his hand. He bucked his hips up at his hand and threw his head back with a loud groan as he cummed on your chest, his hands not slowing down to milk his cock down to every last drop.

You moaned at the sensation of his hot cum landing on you, arching your back to push your chest further toward him. Sanzu panted above you, seeing the way your body was decorated with his semen.

“We’re not done yet, baby.” he chuckled.

Before he could do anything, he heard his phone beep, like someone had just ended the call. Sanzu was surprised that Ran actually stayed that long in the call, he thought Ran would’ve ended it by the time he threw the phone elsewhere.

Sanzu was true to his words. He was not done with you until you were all spent and begging for him to stop, safe to say that you weren’t going to be walking properly anytime soon and that was fine by you, it was a Friday night anyway.

You lazily lounged on Sanzu’s couch, eating and mindlessly watching whatever programme was on the TV. You were currently waiting for Sanzu to get home, apparently he got called in for work even though it was a Sunday, but oh well. He also told you not to stay up too late and try wait for him but you were stubborn.

It was late in the evening and the programme that was on was the news channel, but you didn’t pay much attention to it and savoured the way your food tasted against your tongue. You could feel your eyes getting droopy by the minute but fought the urge to let sleep take over you.

“In tonight’s news, we now focus on the country’s most notorious crime syndicate, Bonten, as they continue to pose danger to the public… the people shown in this video clip are it’s executives and members…”

Instinctively, you looked up from your snack and towards the TV to see the footage of a white haired man walking and his back towards the camera. A particular design caught you off guard, it was the tattoo on the man’s nape that made you think for a while. His tattoo was of a hanafuda card that symbolised the full moon.

Have I seen that before? You thought.

You shook your head at the silly thought, how have you seen that tattoo before when the news reporter literally mentioned that it originated from the country’s most notorious crime syndicate. Surely if you were to come across a member of that crime syndicate, you probably wouldn’t even make it alive.

Trying to take your mind off the news, you switched the channel to a random one which happened to be a food channel, you could work with that. Your attention shifted over to the door, hearing it close and someone shuffling around.

Sanzu.

The man walked through the hallway, hanging his blazer on the coat rack and rolling his polo sleeves up, “Baby, what are you still doing up?” Sanzu sighed as he waltzed over to you, hands wide open to pull you into a hug. “I wanted to wait for you…” you mumbled into his stomach, the smooth material of his tuxedo vest rubbing against your face.

He rubbed your cheeks and smiled down at you, his eyes filled with genuineness, “I’ll just wash up real quick, okay?” You nodded and Sanzu gave you a soft peck on the forehead before heading for his bedroom.

You looked over his shoulder and trailed his figure that slowly disappeared into the hallway leading to his room, letting out a sigh you’ve been holding as you could feel your heart racing faster.

There were two things that stood out to you despite his dimly lit penthouse, the first one was the hanafuda card tattoo on his left forearm and the other was the ever so slightly spots of red on his sleeves but maybe your eyes played tricks on you for that one but you surely saw his tattooed left arm.

Your mind was quick to wander elsewhere, you didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe you were just overthinking it, maybe he just coincidentally got the same tattoo as the country’s most feared syndicate, surely, right?

Besides, the odds of becoming face to face with an executive of Bonten were practically zero to none. You lived a quiet life so there was no reason for you to even encounter a member, that’s right, your life was nothing but monotonous… until you met Sanzu.

Come to think of it, Sanzu never even told you where he worked or who he worked for. All you knew is that he was a busy man but still made time for you but this piece of missing information was enough to speculate. You knew it was wrong to accuse someone without hard, concrete evidence; innocent until proven guilty, your law professors taught you that.

But something inside you screamed to know the truth, you didn’t know how you’ll gain the information, surely not by walking up to him and going, “Hey, are you part of that crime syndicate called Bonten?”

Just then, a name suddenly popped up in your head. Sanzu mentioned a name two days ago during a call.

Haitani.

That name rang a bell to you but where have you heard it before? It took you a few minutes to ponder over the somewhat familiar name but it finally clicked. Haitani, that was the name you’ve heard a lot back when you were still working at the club in Roppongi. The club they owned. You didn’t know much about the name’s origin but you knew there were two of them and they basically ruled that district. Gang members.

It dawned upon you that Sanzu once mentioned that he knew the owner of the club when you first met him. It made sense. The dots all connected to one another but what were you exactly going to do?

You quickly turned the TV off and made your way to Sanzu’s bedroom, the shower was still running which indicated he was nowhere near being done. You walked into his room, your eyes immediately catching his unlocked drawer slightly ajar, the drawer that he always locked without fail, the one he always opened before he left early in the mornings.

Shallow breaths slipped past your lips as you nervously made your way toward it, taking cautious steps like something would jump out at you at any minute. Your hands nervously reached for the handle and pulled it, the loud creaking sound making you jolt.

A gun. All in its glory, lying right in the middle of the drawer and nothing else. The metal barrel shone under the bright lights of Sanzu’s bedroom, as if it was taunting you.

You took a few steps back, eyes widening at the dangerous weapon before your eyes. So many questions ran through your head and it also didn’t help the way your heart was beating faster than ever.

Your head snapped toward the bathroom door as Sanzu stepped out, damp rosy pink hair, exposed chest and grey sweatpants sitting dangerously low around his waist. His eyes darted between the unreadable expression in your face and the opened drawer, tilting his head slightly to the side, he looked at you with a weird glint in his eyes,

“Baby, has no one ever taught you not to go through things that aren’t yours?” His voice laced with venom as he took long strides towards you, his slender fingers making its way to your chin to firmly hold it in place.

Avoiding his eye contact, you muttered a small apology, closing your eyes which only made Sanzu smirk, “Guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson, huh?” Before you could say anything, he closed the gap between your lips, his other hand silently reaching for the 9mm in the drawer and placed it in his pocket. It wasn’t loaded, Sanzu knew better than to load his gun with bullets with you around his penthouse.

He backed you into the floor-to-ceiling glass before deepening the kiss; his kisses were rough and needy, the way his lips hungrily moved against yours told you that he was desperate. You didn’t hesitate to return his kiss in the same manner, your mind slowly forgetting about this whole thing but it was still there, in the back of your head, waiting to be unravelled.

Sanzu’s hand snaked inside your pants, giving tight circles around your clothed clit, causing you to moan into his mouth. He didn’t have to do much to get you dripping, after all, his light kisses and fingers were enough to have you begging on your knees for him. That was the effect he had on you, he was like drugs and you needed a dose of him everyday.

“You better be all ears for me, baby. I’m only teaching you this lesson once.”

In no time, you were out of your shirt as he turned your body around and pressed your exposed front against the cold surface of the glass, your breath immediately fogging it up. Sanzu trailed kisses down your nape and sucked at a spot on your back, earning a small moan from you. His hands wandered to your chest, each roughly massaging a breast, pulling and groping it.

“Mhm… Sanzu, please.”

Sanzu wasted no time to pull your pants down, slightly shivering at the sudden cool air that hit your exposed legs; he swiftly pulled his stiff cock out of his sweatpants and teased your wet folds through your panties. Your nails scraped against the smooth glass as Sanzu continued with his teasing, tears almost forming in your eyes at how turned on you were.

But he was just as horny as you, so he pushed your panties aside and slid his cock in, bottoming out in one go. You threw your head back against his shoulders, your hands balling into fists against the fogged up glass, “Hah, Sanzu!”

“Such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Sanzu chuckled, pulling out his unloaded 9mm and firmly pressing it against your neck, your walls tightly clenched around his dick at the cool sensation of the barrel against your skin, Sanzu also noticed this and from there on, he saw red.

He picked up his pace, hips roughly fucking up into you at the fastest pace he could possibly attain, “You like it when I use my gun on you? You like the thrill of that? What a fucking slut.” Sanzu whispered into your hair, teeth gritting at the way your walls deliciously hugged his cock, you were so tight that he literally had to let his mind wander somewhere else so he wouldn’t cum right then and there.

You could only moan at his questions, your breasts tightly pressing against the glass surface as your back arched due to Sanzu’s merciless hips. Nothing else was on your mind now, just his cock and the way he was hitting your g-spot with every single thrust of his hips.

His gun made its way to your lips, “Suck on it.” He demanded and you didn’t hesitate to open your mouth and place your lips around the tip of his gun, tongue swirling and sucking on it like it was Sanzu’s dick.

Sanzu cursed against your neck as he heard the wet squelches of your mouth working against his gun, the way your head desperately leaned into the 9mm as if you wanted more, the way you moaned around it the same way you would with his dick. His grip on the weapon tightened, fuck, you were so filthy.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Sanzu hooked his free hand on the back of your knee and brought it up against the glass, he was much deeper this time and it turned you into nothing but a teary moaning mess around his 9mm. You were so close to cumming.

High pitched whines escaped your lips every time his crotch slapped against your ass, there wasn’t anything you could do but fist your hands into the glass and moan against the weapon that he held up your lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Cum with me, princess…” Sanzu groaned, inhaling the scent of your hair as he sealed his eyes shut at the immense pleasure. He pushed his gun further into your mouth as you reached your orgasm, causing you to moan loudly and tightly clench around his dick, your legs shaking and nails scraping against the glass surface at the intense sensation you felt.

Sanzu stilled his hips as he came and roughly pushed his dick inside you, causing you tiptoe a bit. He moaned against your back, the grip around your knee tightening, a string of profanities slipped past his lips as you rode out his orgasm by clenching around him.

That night, Sanzu came clean to you. He was indeed part of Bonten and even had a high position as the second-in-command. He told you how you were free to terminate the contract between the two of you because he would understand the fear it instilled within you but he did let you know that he would make sure no harm would come your way, if you decided to stay.

It was pretty self explanatory about why he kept you in the dark about the truth about his job, but he also told you how you helped him take his mind off all the fucked up things he has done. That’s why he had no problem giving and spending large amounts of money on you, after all, it was just dirty money anyway. He figured he could at least put it to good use.

Sanzu has also opened up about how he had practically stopped popping pills left and right ever since he became your sugar daddy, it was a very different world with you, he felt emotions he’s never felt before and feelings he’s never had before.

The world with Bonten often left him feeling empty, a void where his heart should be that he filled by abusing drugs just to get a quick high to try and forget about the horrors of what he has done to innocent people.

You always thought that Sanzu being your sugar daddy only benefited you, but little did you know it actually benefited him more than you could imagine. You needed his money and he needed your company, you needed each other to get through life.

He asked you that night if you were still going to stay with him despite his criminal status.

If playing with fire was your only ticket to living the lavish lifestyle, then you wouldn’t hesitate dancing with the devil in disguise, also known as Haruchiyo Sanzu, Bonten’s second-in-command.

© mitsuyeaah

[waywardtfw]

When I first watched Good Omens 2 I was surprised by the ending. I had been so focused the romance of the season. The Jane Austen, the witty retorts, the dancing, the secrets glancing. I took the bait and when the ending came I fell hook line and sinker. Much like Crowley I felt I had drove into a pot of boiling sulfur. But then looking back I realized if I had actually been following the story we were being told instead as of getting swept up in the romance, I would have realized it was never going to end happily.

The flashbacks are what really foretell the ending. They aren’t just fun romps through history. They serve a purpose. And the purpose is to set up and elaborate upon how Crowely and Aziraphale see the world and each other, and how they see heaven, hell and earth. And what these flashbacks prove is they have huge gaps between the ways they see the world that need to be bridged. Those gaps could have been crossed ages ago but as the flashbacks show multiple times- Crowley and Aziraphale don’t communicate well and that leads to disaster. It will destroy them if they don’t sort it out- I mean their ability to communicate is so lacking that it literally ends with Crowley pointing a gun in Aziraphale’s face and shooting it. And he gets in this pickle because he loves him! Which is pretty twisted! And if the gun wasn’t dangerous enough their friendship them almost gets revealed to hell by zombies- grossly incompetent zombies at that! If Aziraphale hadn’t managed to pull off that magic trick- which easily could have happened. He’s very bad at magic. Who knows what horrible things would have happened to the both of them.

This miscommunication gap also hurts the people around them. If Crowley had explained the why Elspeth was graverobbing to Aziraphale instead of letting him watch and figure out for himself maybe things wouldn’t have gone so far and Wee Morag wouldn’t have ended up dead. Or at least Aziraphale and Crowley could have found away to help Wee Morag that didn’t involved inspiring displays of well… Scottishness? while being drunk on laudanum that end up with Crowley getting sent to hell and tortured (tortured to the point that some people have pointed out that when Crowley gets he asks for holy water for insurance- which is just plain sad and awful, and leads to even more conflict between Aziraphale and Crowley. Or if Aziraphale hadn’t felt the need to plan an entire ball just to dance with Crowley- cause let’s be honesty that’s really why he did it- maybe all of his guests wouldn’t have ended up in danger.

I remember upon watching the episode with the graveyard and Scottish Crowley- being dismayed with how behind ideologically Aziraphale was compared to Crowley. I knew he would do a huge amount of growing in the two centuries to follow. But part of me had filled in the blanks and assumed he would be farther along in that journey by the 1800s. I remember wondering how he was going to catch up in between then and the present day. When I watched the finale episode I realized he hasn’t caught up. He hasn’t quite made the leap away from heaven. He might think he has and Crowley might even be starting to think that too. He even had us as an audience beginning to think he had let go of that baggage But Aziraphale’s problem is he wants to do good . He wants to save the world and heaven with it. he can’t quite give up the ghost- he is too self sacrificial. He’s going to need to learn that he, like many kids of abusive parents- can’t fix the situation he came from. Not without sacrificing himself. He’s going to have to stop running and confront his baggage to truly be free of it. And Crowley on the other hand needs to realize he can’t just run from his past. He needs to reckon with his time as both angel and demon. He needs to grieve what was taken from him instead of just living in opposition to it. Because Crowley’s problem is he too wants to save the world. He just wants to do it in his own (and maybe with Aziraphale, but mostly on his own). He too is way too self sacrificial to the point that he sacrifices himself and his sense of self time and time again all in the name of his own side. His side may be the only truly good one between heaven and hell. But he is only one entity. He has to learn to open up again. To truly open up. Which is why it’s so frustrating that when he finally opens up to Aziraphale in episode 6, things go wrong! But as frustrating as it is, it sets an amazing stage. It gives Aziraphale the chance to build up Crowley’s trust. To build up Crowley’s faith in them as team. So that when Crowley opens his heart again it’s done on his own terms and in a way that is healing. Poor Crowley has been though so much, and he has been through so much of it alone. People can affirm themselves and their path’s in life only so much with out needing some support from others. Notice how Crowley is still living in his car. He never asked if he could move into Aziraphale’s bookshop. He sees himself as a burden, as not good enough for the angelic Aziraphale that he so admires. He probably thinks he would weigh him down. Crowley needs affirmation to heal. He needs to be loved and not loved in a way that’s cloaked with shame, but loved in a way that is able to sit with self comfortable. But Aziraphale is not at the point where he can give that love yet. When that happens he can help Crowley heal from his abandonment by heaven. He’s been picking up after heaven’s mistakes since before his fall. It’s time for someone to take care of him in return. Because as much as Crowley says his actions have nothing to do with heaven or hell, he does still feel burdened by their weight. Now he can’t do this journey just with Aziraphale. He needs to do some of it on his own. Bu he needs love to heal- we all do. So does Aziraphale. They can give each other that. But they have to be ready to. They have to do the work they need to do on themselves to get to that point.

[msnanu]

Life Twist 12 | JJK

⏤banner by the talented and sweet: @archivedkookie ❣

⏤summary ❧ After an enormous loss in your life and breaking a long relationship with your now ex boyfriend, you decided you needed a life twist. So you move into a new country to try restart your life and seek for your happiness. What you weren't expecting was someone like Jungkook entering into your life as soon as you got to Seoul.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ jungkook x female reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, 4 years age gap (reader is JK's noona)

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ❧ 10.2k+

⏤ author's note❧ It's finally here! 😌 - I'm so sorry for delaying this for such a long time, this past month has not been easy for me. When I was getting back into writing my beautiful furry friend decided to cross the rainbow. It took a while for me to feel better honestly. For now this will be the last chapter of Life Twist. I might continue it or not, I'm open to write some drabbles for this couple if requested. I loved writing the story of this two lovebirds and I hope you loved it as much as I did 💜 As always, don't hesitate on leaving your thoughts on the story, it makes my heart warm everytime I read your comments. FYI - I'll be working on new ff's! Love u guys and thank u for the love you gave to this story! 🥰 

"So, you're saying he was totally unfazed about Minho?" says Aria sounding genuinely surprised while Emma added "Like, you did not even sense an ounce of jealousy coming from him?".

The three of you were in a corner of Taehyung's apartment talking or more like whispering about your little encounter earlier today with Minho and JK at the gym's exit. The rest of your friends - including Jungkook - were just a few meters away from you so you couldn’t be too loud with your conversation.

You shook your head and continued "I don't know how to describe it. I’m telling you, he was like another person, not the Jungkook I dated. I mean, for God's sake!" you exclaim shouting in a whisper to your two friends "Last time he saw Minho he kept glaring the shit out of him and now the two of them were acting as if they were friends!"

"Well, I'll be damn. I didn't think he could change this much in four months. Seems like therapy is doing its job" added Aria while taking a sip of her gin tonic.

"And how do you feel about all of this?" said Emma looking at you curiously.

You groan loudly, throwing your head back. "Ugh. That's the thing. I don't know. Every time I see him, I want to jump right on him" you say while watching Jungkook talking to Yoongi on the other side of the room and the girls giggle at your honesty.

"I just-" you stop yourself thinking how to voice out your thoughts correctly "There's a part of me that is full of fear. We are in a good place now, I mean... look we are in the same room, we are not pulling each other’s head off and everything's okay"

"But?" 

"But I'm still in love with him, so madly in love that it drives me crazy. I'm so fucking whipped!" you exclaim while sighing and rubbing your temples.

Both of your friends look at you with worried faces, you're clearly too stressed with the whole situation.

"You know I wasn't rooting for you to fix things up with Jungkook in the first place" starts Aria without any filter as usual.

Auch. That was harsh. But you know Aria means well and she's the type to give tough love.

"But that was Jungkook from four months ago, the guy that couldn't even stand to see someone looking at you. This Jungkook-" she says moving her head in his direction "The one that is doing therapy - even though we know he never was fond of it - in a way it feels like he's a whole new person. He is still the same goofy Jungkook we all knew but I think everything that happened with you made him more mature and maybe - I'm saying just maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing to give him another chance" she finishes giving you a sweet smile.

"I can't believe I'm hearing that coming out from your mouth, Aria" said Emma with an amusing tone.

Aria loves Jungkook like a little brother but since you two broke up, she sided with you. There wasn't any bad blood between them at all, but she made it clear that she wasn't happy with how Jungkook had treated you.

You were frowning for a while and seeing that you were awfully silent, Aria's comforting voice caught once again your attention "At the end, it's always gonna be your decision, Y/N. And whatever you decide, it's gonna be okay, we'll be here for you."

"I just don't want to feel any regret, I don't want to make the same mistakes again and again" you mumbled, while nibbling on your bottom lip "What would you do, guys?"

"It's too personal, sweetie. But if you want my opinion, if I were in the same position with Hobi, I would give him one more chance."

"I would too,” said Emma.

It's not like you don't want to give it another go with Jungkook. But it would be your very first time coming back with an ex-boyfriend and the thought of getting back with him and the possibility of your heart breaking up again, terrifies you. Even though, deep down, you know your heart is still with him, you never retrieved it. How could you? You never loved someone as much as you loved him, as you still love him.

And before the wheels in your head starts to work and roll, Aria's voice speaks up again. “That doesn't mean you have to give him a chance tho" she says running her arm around your shoulder and squeezing you a little bit "Maybe you need some more time for yourself, and things might clear up for you on its own"

"Or maybe you just need to go with the flow and relax a bit, don't stress that much overthinking everything,” said Emma.

"That's for sure, you need to calm down, sweetie" added Aria.

"Yeah, I think you're right... I should relax and go with the flow" you repeat - as if it was an easy task for you to do.

And that's the last thing they advised you before you moved on talking about Emma and Joey's honeymoon since they were going soon on a trip to the Maldives.

"Ahhh, Jungkook-ah, stop with the puppy eyes, you're gonna give me a headache" Yoongi teases the youngest, wiggling his brows. Jungkook rolls his eyes although a soft grin spreads on his lips, clearly knowing he got caught staring at you. There's no point on denying it. He doesn't want to be creepy, but you look so beautiful, you always do and it's getting harder for him not to drool over you every time you're near him.

"I can't help it, hyung"

"Did you two talked again about... you know, your relationship?"

"No. We talk about anything but that" the maknae simply responds with a soft smile plastered on his face, reminiscing every single conversation he shared with you these last few days. Just talking with you makes everything better.

"And you're... fine with that?" he asks slowly, sounding confused and surprised at how calmed Jungkook is acting about you and your relationship.

Jungkook gives him a slow nod as he says, "I'm happy of being part of her life again, hyung."

It's obvious that he wants to be with you. But after being apart from you for two months when you broke up and not being able to talk or even see you, he knows that he has to appreciate that you're back in his life, even if it's not in the way he's yearning. If he wants to get you back, he knows he'll have to be patient.

"You know, I bought her a ring before we broke up" suddenly Jungkook confesses, sounding almost proud of himself which catches Yoongi off guard and JK sees it by the way Yoongi's lips part.

"A ring, like- an actual engagement ring?!" he asks right away.

Jungkook nods, pursing his lips in a deep thought before saying "Yes, I was gonna propose in our first anniversary but then all hell broke loose and there went my plans with it" 

"Wow. I didn't expect that."

Yoongi was actually the first person to know this. Neither of his other hyungs knew anything about the ring, not even Jin or Jimin. It's the first time he feels like he can properly talk about it without crying his eyes out. And even though Yoongi is not the most open person in terms of feelings, Jungkook always felt comfortable voicing out his thoughts with him.

"Maybe it was for the best, even if I had to go through an unbearable pain." says JK while he sees Yoongi frowning "Maybe I needed to go through all of that to become a better person, not just for her, but for me as well. She deserves the best version of me. I just wish I hadn't made her suffer in that process."

Yoongi stares in silent at Jungkook with a sense of proud and the youngest frowns while saying "What?" 

"Nothing. It's just...you are all grown up now" says Yoongi pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jungkook snorts finding very amusing Yoongi's reaction. "Hyung, every time I see you, you say that same thing."

"Because it's true! You've grown up so much!" he exclaims, smiling as Jungkook grins taking a sip of the glass of wine in his hand "Well, at least you already have the ring for whoever you'll end up with."

Yoongi sees JK gulping while he fights that lump that is stuck in his throat "That ring belongs to her, hyung. I know it'll end up on her finger sooner or later" he says, wanting to sound as hopeful as possible.

"You sound confident, Jungkookie."

"I-...I just know we'll end up together somehow, I have that feeling, you know?" he says softly, taking another gulp of his glass of wine.

Yoongi nods, listening to JK's words carefully before asking "And you'll wait for her no matter what?"

"Always. She's worth it." Jungkook responds quickly, without a single ounce of doubt.

A few minutes later you were on Taehyung's big balcony, watching the stars illuminating the beautiful night sky. After gulping down what would be your second glass of wine, you were feeling warmer and relaxed. You could hear your friends' voices from inside, hearing Jimin and Yoongi's all-time bickering made you smile without even realizing.

"How was your physical therapy session, noona? Everything okay?" a soft and well-known voice resounds from behind pulling you out of your little world.

You turn around, your heart fluttering and your face feeling hot at the sight of your ex-boyfriend smiling at you. A thousand butterflies swirling inside your stomach.

Fuck. I love you I love you I love you - your mind is repeating non-stop. How is it even possible that such a gorgeous human being exists?

You purse your lips, trying to play it cool. "It was good" you respond after a while "It was actually the last session today, so I guess my hand is finally recovered." 

"Oh! Really?" says Jungkook with an enthusiastic tone "Let me see how it looks."

Your eyebrows furrow for a moment. He gets closer to you, taking your hand in his and looking at it, as if he was some kind of doctor and for some reason it makes you giggle. He looks down on you and suddenly you stare wide-eyed at him because of the proximity of your bodies. Jungkook notices how nervous you seem to be, he knows that look on you, he tries to hide his amusement but fails miserably when you see a little twitch on his lips.

And you can't stop looking at his lips. You are mentally screaming, throwing hands at yourself thinking how fucking weak you are when it comes to this man in front of you.

"I missed seeing that look on your face."

"Wha-What look?" you stutter a little bit. 

Fuck. Keep it together, Y/N

"The one that you had every time you were checking me out" he shamelessly says.

You stumble back a little bit as he tries to hold back a laugh. He always finds you adorable when you get flustered.

"You know, sometimes you're too cocky" you say trying to sound as unaffected as possible even though you know you're failing miserably.

"Maybe, but I also know you, Y/N. And I'm sure you were thirsting over me" he giggles before taking a step closer to you and making you freeze in your spot, then he leans in and whispers at your ear “And just to be clear, if it were for me, I would be kissing you since the moment you set a foot on hyung's apartment."

Chris voice is heard getting closer to both of you, Jungkook steps back a little with a triumphant grin on his face seeing how flustered you are. You gulp all the saliva that has collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks and trying to compose yourself to not look suspicious to your best friend who's now approaching.

"So, you two lovebirds, are you already back together or you're just busy flirting with each other?" said your best friend with a mischievous tone in his voice.

Is he fucking kidding?  You are sending daggers towards Chris with your eyes. Him and his inappropriate comments. Jungkook just giggles and shakes his head at his hyung.

"Oh- okay I-I just wanted to tell you something" says your best friend stuttering at first a little scared when he sees you looking at him as if you wanted to murder him "As you know my birthday is coming soon."

Jungkook and you just nod your heads waiting for your best friend to continue, since it is no news for anyone. Chris has been blabbering about turning 31 for the last month or so.

"I really wanted to do something different this time, so I rented a nice place in Gangneung right in front of the sea, for all of us to have a little weekend get-away."

"Wow, that sounds cool, hyung. I'll be there" Jungkook quickly replied. 

"I assume I don't need to ask you anything, if you are not there, I'll kill you with my own hands" says Chris towards you trying to sound intimidating.

"Oh!" you feign fear putting your hands over your chest with an exaggerated ironic tone "I'm so scared!”

"I'm so scared" repeated Chris in a mocking tone and you punched him in his arm.

"Fuck" he hissed grabbing his arm "That hurt.”

"My hand is good as new now so don't test me, Christian" you threaten your best friend as he sticks his tongue out to you and you repeat his actions.

Jungkook just laughed at the scene in front of him with you two bickering as always. Sometimes you two seemed to be younger than him.

A few days later you found yourself at the gym again releasing endorphins and also observing your ex-boyfriend from afar while you are running on the treadmill.

It's not like you are a creep and you're just staring at him. You were minding your own business when you came across with your ex-boyfriend form, standing next to the benches. Jungkook looked visibly uncomfortable with some girl next to him that was clearly flirting with him. His doe eyes kept glancing towards your way as if he was mentally pleading for you to help him.

After seeing over the next few minutes that the girl wouldn't give up and leave him alone you thought - okay, I should probably help him - yeah, it's not like you're jealous or anything, he would help you too if you were in the same situation, right?

You stopped overthinking and you walked with determination towards Jungkook and that girl.

"Hey baby, are you ready to go?" you said grabbing softly Jungkook's arm.

Jungkook's doe eyes look right at you and a smile grew on his face while tugging you close to him. "Yes, gorgeous" he said. The girl in front of you widened her eyes, you could see how embarrassed she felt as Jungkook happily introduced you "This is Y/N, my girlfriend."

Girlfriend. You did not realize until now how much you were missing him calling you that way.

"Oh" the girl said giving you a nod "Nice to meet you. Sorry. I should go."

The unnamed girl disappeared quickly and when she was nowhere to be seen you realized Jungkook still had his arms around your waist. He must have realized too because while clearing his throat, he took his arm back and scratched the back of his head saying "Thanks, she was clearly flirting with me but didn't get the hint that I wasn't interested."

"No biggie, I could see a mile away that you were uncomfortable, I'm glad I could help."

He smiles sweetly at you and you're having such a hard time trying not to kiss him right now. Such a beautiful smile he has.

"Are you leaving already Y/N?" he says waking you up from your trance.

God. I hope he didn't notice me drooling over him again.

"Um, yeah in a bit, I have to finish my routine, but I guess in about ten minutes I'll be done with it.”

That sounded natural. As if you weren't spacing out thinking on a hundred different ways to bang him.

"Great, I'll take you home."

"No need, Kook. Don't worry about it.”

Kook. Oh, how he loved when you called him that nickname. He hasn't heard it in a while. It made him smile instantly.

"I wasn't asking, noona. You helped me, now I want to help you. Don't be stubborn" he said softly nudging his arm with yours.

"Okay, I guess" you said giggling.

Twenty minutes later, you are on the passenger seat of his car, giving him your new address since you realized that he didn't even know where you moved in.

Yes, you had moved out from Chris' apartment a few weeks ago. Although you were very comfortable while living with him and he made sure to let you know that you could stay with him as long as you needed, you really wanted to have your own place. Plus, even if he said that you weren't, you knew that somehow you were disrupting his life. 

He couldn't even have a proper date with Irene at his place because you were there, though you tried to go out with Emma and Aria as much as you could to give them as much alone time as you could.

As Jungkook parked in your building entrance he said "You are living really close to my place now, it's a walking distance. Cool"

"Honestly this is the best area out of all the apartments I went to check."

And it really was. It's not like you were looking for apartments near his place on purpose.

He nods. "And you have security at the entrance, that's relieving."

"Yeah" you say chuckling "That was essential for me and one of the main things that helped me deciding on this apartment." 

He smiles and says, "I'm glad you finally found your place here."

For a moment, you feel like you are already missing him even though he's right next to you. You don't want him to leave. You don't want to go upstairs alone to your apartment.

It's not weird if you invite him in, right? You are cool with each other, it's not like you can't control yourself. But maybe it would be weird for him? Ugh, you hate yourself right now. Fuck it. You'll just go with the flow.

"Do you wanna come upstairs for a drink? I'll give you an apartment tour." 

That definitely took Jungkook for surprise. But his smile grew from ear to ear.

"I would very much like that, yes" he said.

"Great, let's go then."

As soon as you entered your apartment building, the concierge - Kim Jin Hyuk - greeted you both and you introduced Jungkook. You told the concierge that JK should be included on your list of 'frequent guests' from now on, so he took JK's information to prepare his access card. 

Jungkook heart felt warm to know that you wanted to include him in the frequent guest list, even if it was a small gesture. Day by day he could feel you getting closer to him and opening a little bit more. 

If you were part of the frequent guest list, you were given a special card to be able to pass the access control system installed on the building entrance without having to wait for the concierge to call the owner - in this case you - and ask permission for the guest to be able to go upstairs. Of course, the card had to be also used on the elevator which would only take that person to the floor that was assigned to that card.

The security on this building was something else. And after the sad events with Ethan on your previous apartment, you were decided to move in into a place that made you feel secure in every sense, and this was it for you.

"Wow, this is amazing" said Jungkook as he entered your living room.

It's a four-bedroom apartment, a little bit bigger than Jungkook's but it shared a pretty similar vibe. And you were in love of every space on it. Specially the living room, it was big, with a modern marble fireplace - yes, a fireplace - and had a large window with beautiful views of the city. It was an amazing part of the apartment where you liked to spend most of your time in.

After giving him a tour for every single room, you finished in your bedroom with the huge en-suite bathroom.

"The shower is pretty big" you suddenly said, giving Jungkook a sheepish grin.

He smiled too. He knew what you were hinting on. The first time you slept together he had teased you saying that whenever you moved in together you would need a bigger shower. Another thing he missed about you. Your constant teasing. "Mmh, not so sure about that, maybe we should try it out." 

"Oh, I actually tried it with Chris and Irene" you responded with the most natural tone.

"Huh?" says immediately Jungkook with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, the first time I came to see the apartment they came with me and we tried it, Irene was like 'OMG this shower fits like four people' and she made us all - including the real estate agent - get inside the shower just to prove her point" you chuckled while reminiscing on that day and thinking how fools you've must look when you all were inside the shower.

"OHHHHHHHHHHH" Jungkook says as if he finally understands what you're talking about. What was he thinking you were talking about?

"Oh my God!" you exclaim giving him a punch on his arm "Jungkook did you think that I had a threesome in the shower with my best friend and his girlfriend? Are you out of your freakin’ mind?!"

You are both laughing nonstop until he says "Sorry! It's just that the way you said it, it sounded so bad."

"Such a dirty mind you have in that pretty little head of yours" you say shaking your head and still giggling.

"When it comes to you, yeah. It kinda ends up always in that same part of my brain" he said smirking and making you blush.

"Stop it!" you say as you start walking towards your living room with him following your steps behind and still laughing. 

Afterwards, you shared a few drinks and talked about random things, as always. It felt good. Like old times. But in the end when the night came, he had to go home, and you were left all alone in your apartment.

You were now laying on your bed, with your eyes on the high ceiling. You could hear a storm unraveling on the outside. As it was starting to rain, you felt the urgent need to talk with your dad. 

"I saw him a few hours ago but I still miss him a lot, dad. I miss us. But I'm not sure what to do. I wish you were here to help me; you always said the right words" you say as a sigh follows your words.

Suddenly a box that was on top of the closet falls, scattering on the floor all the things that were inside of it.

You had seen that box too close to the edge of the closet a few days ago but you were too lazy to grab a chair and move it to a proper place where it couldn't fall.

"Fuck. I knew it was a matter of time for that to fall" you whispered as you got up to gather it.

When you started gathering everything, your attention gets caught instantly to certain picture. You pick it up and can't help to smile at the sight in front of you. 

It was your first picture with Jungkook. The one he took when you went for a hike when you were staying at Hobi parents’ cottage. And it hits you like the lightning that you just heard from the outside.

You want him. You love him.

"I got your message, thank you dad" you say looking up and quickly getting out of your apartment without thinking for a second. 

You ring the bell of the apartment once. A few seconds after, Jungkook opens the door and as he sees you standing in front of him, his face lights up with a huge and welcoming smile on his face until suddenly he realizes you are soaked and his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you with worried eyes.

"Bab- Y/N are you okay? You shouldn't be outside with this storm. You're soaking wet."

"Oh" you mumble and chuckle while looking down to your clothes "Yeah, I forgot to bring an umbrella."

"Did something happen?" he asks quickly.

Yes. I love you. You were right. We are end-game. I'm sorry it took me all this long to accept it. I was scared. That's what was going through your mind, but you didn't say anything.

You shake your head, and your body moves on its own going straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours "Please, hold me" you simply say, and it doesn't take him more than one second to hug you back tightly.

With your nose pressed against his chest, you notice his shirt smells just like him, his favorite fabric softener, and that amazing cologne he always wears. That Jungkook scent, the one he always holds, the one that smells like home. 

"Kook," you murmur while you look up to his doe eyes, "Can we please talk?"

"Of course, Y/N" he gives you a small grin as he drags you inside his apartment "Come with me. I still have some of your clothes in my closet, you should change the ones that you have now, you'll catch a cold if you don't." he says, a worry flashing in his eyes as you just nod and follow him.

A few minutes later you were already changed into one of your summer dresses, you didn't even remember that you had left it here. Sitting on his sofa, right next to each other, he decides to speak first.

"So…what do you want to talk about?" he asks lowly as you suck in breath, heart racing against your chest.

Being able to see and talk to each other these last two months, for a moment it had made too easy to believe this chapter with Jungkook was closed when nothing was forcing you to read it. But now it was too late to pretend everything was fine. It wasn't. You couldn't be his friend. You didn't want to be his friend. You needed more.

"You were right, in the end. About you and me, we should be together, we—" you caught yourself, your heart heavy. "I cannot do this anymore; I can't pretend that I'm okay. I don't want to be without you. Since that day when we broke up, when I broke up- I've been trying to convince myself that it was the right thing to do, that I didn't love you anymore, but I can't keep lying to myself or to you."

His eyes looking straight to yours. Sparkling with hope and so much love. His eyes always tell so much.

It was the first time you'd brought up your break-up fight in the past four months. It had been ugly, and shameful for you. You never screamed at each other before that day, but the events unleashed by Ethan and Lina plus Jungkook's lack of confidence, turned into the biggest fight you had. Coming to think about it, that day you both did things you weren't happy about. And you, unlike Jungkook, you hadn't apologized not even once to him.

This was your opportunity to both heal and move on from the past. If you had a slight chance to build up again your relationship, having a sincere talk with him was the best way to start.

"Y/N, I..." He hesitated for a second, but when he spoke again, he sounded more self-assured. "I was wrong back then. I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry, too, Jungkook, I..." you said looking down and remembering your actions that day you felt ashamed of yourself "I never actually apologized for slapping you on the face that day and-"

"No. I mean, yes, we both—but I—" He cleared his throat. "I should have supported you. And I should have apologized before the wedding, I should have gone to Chris' hyung apartment and talk to you but I feared it would be unwelcomed. I know I said this before, but I'll say it again and as much times as it's needed. I'm sorry, Y/N. I really am."

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, but you didn't move. You hadn't realized how much you'd needed having this talk with him. Even if he had already apologized on the wedding. Even that being totally honest, after the break-up, you couldn't stay resentful for long. You'd forgiven him long ago. But hearing him admit his faults was still a relief. Somehow it gave you reassurance.

"Thank you, Kook." You offered him a soft smile. 

"You know, for a moment, I thought that you would hate me forever for how I treated you that day, I was so afraid of you hating me, but you are such an angel-" His voice broke. He scratched the back of his head, then went on sighing. "I should have been there for you, Y/N."

The regret in his voice was painful. It sent your mind flying in all directions, down all of those roads you never dared to tread. You'd always been good at reading him when you wanted to. For the last few months, you'd refused to. But just then... just then, his walls were down. It was impossible not to see... not to wish...

Right then, seeing him this vulnerable you realized, you were tired of hiding your feelings.

"I still regret pushing you away" you said voicing out your thoughts once again.

This, Jungkook could find a way around. He could tell you it was fine and that you'd done nothing wrong. He could pretend he didn't understand that you were still deeply, shamefully in love with him. But his breath caught, and for a long second, he said nothing.

"Do you...?" He bit his lip. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Jungkook could hear it. "I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I... You know this... If you want, that is, I want to... I want to give us another chance. It doesn't have to be now, if it's not the right time. It can be... if you need more time..."

Jungkook trailed off and looked away. The blush on his cheeks had deepened. He seemed so angry at himself for his embarrassment that your already heightened senses were sent into overdrive. There he was, telling you what you'd been wishing to hear again, and absolutely being himself while at it. So unapologetically himself, too, that you could have never even resisted even if you'd wanted to.

"I don't need more time" you finally said.

That was enough for Jungkook. His shoulders fell in relief as a smile lit up his face. You could've sworn he outshone the sun. It made you smile, too, but then a small, nervous laugh escaped you.

"This is not what I had in mind when I came over," you admitted.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I left my apartment feeling like I was going insane, and you could always keep me from spiraling too deep. I just... I needed to be with you."

Your words struck Jungkook. He shifted, taken aback, his mouth open far before any words could come out.

"I don't want to spend another day without you," he finally said. “I know who I want to be. And I hope -” He takes in a breath, eyes shining with hope and sorrow and everything in between. “- I hope you’ll be there with me.”

You swallowed. There was that awkwardness about him, that feeling of not knowing what to do with his hands, or with himself sometimes... it emboldened you. Jungkook didn't want to force contact on you when you were so upset, but his unsure stance told you that he wanted it as much as you did. With this in mind, you didn't hesitate in scooting closer to him.

Jungkook's arms were wrapped around you in an instant. Everything that was weighing down on you no longer felt so heavy. You let your head fall on his shoulder, breathing him in, and the tears you didn't know you'd been holding back were now flowing freely. He didn't pay it any mind until your stilted breathing gave you away, and he pulled back to look at you.

"No, no, don't cry" he said with worried look while running his thumb over your cheek.

"I'm sorry." you said, wiping your eyes, smiling in a way you knew to be unconvincing. "It's just been... too much."

"It's alright." He gave you a little peck on your forehead while his hands had dropped to your waist, refusing to let go of you. "Feeling better?"

You nodded and leaned back into his arms. Just like that, it was like no time had passed between you two. The closeness, the intimacy, it all came back to you with alarming speed. You're so ready to seize this moment once and for all.

"I can't believe it's been four months" you said.

"I know. It feels like forever."

"In a way, yes... but it feels like nothing changed at all."

"It did," he contradicted you with confidence. "We've grown. We've learned. Specially me. This time, I know how to make this work."

"No screaming, then. Or doubting each other" you stated firmly.

Jungkook laughed softly, sending chills down your spine.

"It's a promise."

You stayed like that for a few more seconds, enjoying the closeness. But you wanted more. Jungkook's arms were safe, he was so warm, and he smelled so good that you couldn't stop yourself. You only had to raise yourself a little to get yourself a kiss - so you did.

Your lips found his without trouble, and your heart exploded when he immediately kissed you back, as if he had been expecting, hoping for this already. He was tender, but intense, just as you remembered. It felt like home. You'd missed him so much, too much, and it was driving you insane even as you didn't have to long for him anymore.

He cups your face in gentle manner, tucking a strand of hair behind your hair. "I love you so much, Y/N" he tells you. His beautiful Bambi eyes hypnotizing yours.

"I love you too, Kook" you softly respond, his smile growing wider as ever as you lean in kissing him once again.

Having his soft, pliant lips against yours was igniting a fire within you. Your kisses grew desperate, bold in their familiarity. Your hands were no longer cautious. You were tangled in his hair, traveling up and down his back, and Jungkook was pressing you against him with a resolve that almost took you aback. It was impossible to miss how Jungkook's body was reacting to this kiss. He'd always been easy to ignite, but you hadn't expected to be thrown back into that whirlwind so quickly and you weren't expecting to crave it so desperately.

His teeth dragged on your lip, maddeningly restrained. At the same time, his hand dropped down, brushing your bare knee. The contact against your skin made you gasp, and his hand, stayed there for a second before going back to your waist. No. You couldn't have that. His featherlight touch had made you wish that his long fingers would trace their way up your leg, straight to where you were starting to burn. And that's how you knew that you were too far gone. You weren't supposed to want reconciliation sex with your ex-boyfriend. You weren't supposed to moan so wantonly between kisses and brazenly open your legs for him, silently begging him to slip his hands under your dress and inside —

 Jungkook froze. For a split second, you feared you'd gone too far, too fast... but he was disheveled, eyes blazing, voice hoarse and tense.

"Are you sure about this, baby?"

That freaking petname. Dear God.

Right then, when you were so full of raw emotion and pent-up desire, denying yourself was not an option. You wanted Jungkook all around you, and you wanted not to feel this heartache anymore.

"Yes. Please."

That was all the encouragement Jungkook needed. His hand went up your leg exactly the way you wanted it too, hot and heavy and leaving a trail of fire. His mouth was now on your neck, nipping and sucking on your blazing skin just carefully enough not to bruise you, even though you didn't care, you just wanted all of him. You let out a whimper when his fingers finally reached between your legs, above the fabric of your lacy underwear. You moaned, encouraging, dropping your hands and twisting around so you could open your legs wider.

He was looking at you intently, no doubt absorbing the sinful image you presented. He reveled in your whimpers every time he pressed or caressed just the right spot - but he never stayed there for long, and the fabric between you two was only making you more desperate.

"You're so beautiful, so, so beautiful" he said.

But before you could answer, he was in contact with your hot, wet skin. His eyes widened, and even you were surprised at how easily his fingers slipped around, making you gasp, your body shocked awake. Fuck. You were so ready. You had been ready for all these months without him. And Jungkook... Jungkook was absolutely gorgeous. He always had that piercing look in his eyes that never failed to make your legs feel weak, but right then, with his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted, he looked obscenely divine.

After running his finger lazily up and down a few times, he slowly pushed it inside you. You were holding your breath, trying to hold on to every single second of this - but once inside you, he curled his finger just so you cried in delight, and then again when his thumb pressed on your clit, working you in a slow rhythm that was threatening to drive you insane. His other arm was around your shoulders, giving them both balance and pulling you closer to him so he could go back to kissing your neck. The steady pace was sending you one jolt of pleasure after another up and down your spine, finding place in your belly and curling up onto itself, more tense with each passing second.

But Jungkook had other plans. He removed his hand, but you didn't have time to protest before he knelt in the floor in front of you, a questioning look in his eye. You nodded without thinking, and his grin widened into a hungry expression that made your throat tighten. You wanted it so, so badly. Since the breakup, more than once you'd tried to imagine how Jungkook's tongue would feel again as it brushed against your most sensitive areas, and every time, you'd blushed and pushed the thought away.

There was no need for that now.

While you got used to the idea, Jungkook yanked down your underwear. It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen - Jungkook, down on his knees, his face between your legs and eager to please, always. You watched in awe as his tongue reached out tentatively, barely touching your already stimulated clit. You squirmed. He did it again, this time more slowly and firmly.  Oh, how you missed this. This felt good. Too damn good. His smug, glinting eyes were locked on yours, as he kissed all around your most sensitive areas, everywhere except where you needed him the most. He teased your exposed skin as if he had all the time in the world. It felt like heaven, but he was still refusing to give you the relief you—

The air was forced out of your lungs when Jungkook's lips latched onto your clit, sucking it with the same sort of leisurely care he'd been giving you so far. Fuck. It was nothing like you'd imagined these past months and everything you'd wanted. You couldn't keep up. His tongue and lips were doing wonders, sucking, licking faster, and faster, until you were a gasping, moaning mess, grabbing locks of his hair and pulling him closer against you.

Without warning, he buried a finger inside you. Your head fell back, eyes closed shut. This overstimulation short-circuited your senses and sent your whole world spinning. Jungkook didn't slow down, didn't let up, and once again you found yourself reaching for paradise, hoping for release from this delicious torture.

"Jungkook..." you breathed out. "Jungkook, please..."

That's when he stopped. Your eyes flew open.

You knew his game. Jungkook had always loved bringing you to the brink of an orgasm and no further time and time again, until you were sufficiently wound up and could no longer keep a hold on yourself. You'd always trusted him to deliver, so you only sighed in frustration, a frustration that was short-lived as you watched him wipe his mouth with his sleeve. Your heart stopped. Fuck, that was hot. All you wanted was to push him to the floor and ride him to oblivion right then and there.

Jungkook, however, always put up a fight. He always had a trick up his sleeve. He stood up, his arms now underneath you and lifting you from the sofa. He carried you bridal style the few steps that separated the living room from his bedroom. As you reached his bed, he didn't quite lay you down, but didn't quite let you fall - somewhere between gentle and desperate, considerate and wild, and the second you touched down he was already on top of you, kissing you fiercely, his hands all over your body, trying to reach as much as he could.

You were reeling. Jungkook's weight on you was numbing your good sense. You wanted to touch his naked body and feel his burning skin pressed against yours so badly that your hands found themselves under his clothes on their own accord, sliding up and down his back, grabbing his ass, pressing him firmly against yours, pulling, tugging on the fabric as if that would make it come off.

Jungkook's kisses grew hotter, deeper, until he broke apart for a second. You were hypnotized by the sight of him sitting up and taking off his shirt. You let your fingers catch on his waistband and pull down resolutely. Jungkook shifted to allow you to take off his pants, but you were greedier than that, hooking your fingers on his underwear as well. Everything came off, and just like that, Jungkook was stark naked on top of you.

You were gaping. Jungkook's arms were defined and his chest strong. He was fully erect, clearly yearning to take you, and your need was so overpowering that you almost missed the ravenous look in his eyes. And you couldn't handle it. You slid one of your hands against his chest and your other hand found him, hard and ready, and you were starting to return the pleasure he'd just granted you, when he pulled away carefully, as if it cost him his life. His voice was dangerously uneven when he spoke.

"I want you, Y/N. Now."

He didn't need to say it twice. You felt yourself almost aching with anticipation as he positioned himself between your legs... but he didn't enter you. He was instead grinding against you, basking in just how wet you were for him, this friction seemingly enough for him. You gave him a pleading look that made him smirk.

"You're not playing fair." He spoke. His hands slid up your legs, grabbed your ass, then continued their way up under your dress. He was lifting the fabric as he went, still rolling his hips against yours when he reached your breasts, at which point you had to lift yourself up to allow him to pull your dress off. His arms caught you on your way back down, his long fingers finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it in an instant.

Only then did you lay back down, this last piece of cloth disposed of as you did. He tossed it aside, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Much better."

You had to agree. After all this teasing, your nipples were reacting to the slight change of temperature and the feeling of freedom. Jungkook brushed his fingers against them, sending chills down your spine. Then he squeezed them softly before leaning down to catch a hard nipple in his mouth. You let out a surprised breath. Jungkook's warm tongue drew circles on your skin, his teeth dragging gently against it, alternating this attention between your breasts. And then he was grinding faster, still outside you, his breath heavy with pleasure against your sensitive skin. You couldn't take it. Your muscles were itching for relief and this throbbing emptiness was almost painful.

"I thought you wanted me now," you complained between moans. You were in paradise, but your body still screamed for him. This was not enough. It was maddening.

"And I'm having you, am I not?" Jungkook barely lifted his head as he said this. Your head rolled back when his mouth found your nipple again, this time sucking hard.

Now you were moving too.

"Jungkook, please... I want... I need..."

And then, only then, then he pushed in.

He went in slowly, allowing for the long-forgotten sensation of fullness to wash over you. It was almost enough to make you finish. You were expecting some discomfort after all this time, but your body was too worked up, so you wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper into you without care. You both gasped. You could almost, almost taste the kind of pleasure that you needed. You rolled your hips once, twice, making him shudder.

"Fuck, Y/N..."

He shifted, leaning back to kneel between your legs, the sudden movement sending a wave of pleasure through you. Your ankles locked behind his back as he started moving, his thrusts shallow and tentative at first, but he gradually pushed longer and harder until you felt him just right, just in the precise way that made you lose control of yourself.

"T-there."

And then it was chaos, and bliss, and everything you had been so desperately craving. Jungkook was moving inside you with a delirious abandon that paralyzed you, the pleasure spreading to every inch of her body. You were being stretched and fulfilled and spread thin, and your control over your actions was slipping away fast. Jungkook was grabbing your legs, clutching you as his own pleasure grew. You wanted to touch him, too, so you reached for him. However, he wouldn't come to you, so you tightened the hold of your legs.

"Come here," you panted.

"I want to see you." His hoarse voice, also tinged with pleasure, only made you more desperate.

"I want—" The thought was disjointed. What did you want?

More. You just wanted more.

"Please, Y/N."

You couldn't deny him anything, so watch you he did. Sweat covered your body, your face felt hot, and your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. There was no point in feeling self-conscious around Jungkook. Instead, you felt wanted, desired, needed, and it only made your own lust grow tenfold. He was also a glorious sight, his dark hair in disarray and his muscles flexing with the exertion.

This was too much, not enough, and the tension inside you was both growing and begging for freedom. Your legs fell to the bed, open as wide as you could, allowing you to touch yourself without shame. His hand quickly replaced yours, circling your clit in time with his thrusts. Jungkook was going in deeper now that he could move more freely, hitting that sweet spot within you again, and again, and again, with enough power to make you scream for him.

"You said no screaming...?" he said breathlessly in a teasing tone.

Incoherent sounds were being drawn out of you, and it was hard to answer among them.

"Idiot."

And the cheeky grin he gave you in return was everything. It was all you could do not to come undone then and there, the sensations hitting you one after another too fast to process. You were rushing towards your breaking point, and you could focus on little else beyond it. Your eyes clamped shut. You were all rapture and burning skin and he sensed it, his pace quick, wild, constant, his fingers also working on you without reprieve. All you could do was whimper, grab the bed sheets tight in your fists, and beg for mercy.

"Jungkook..." You were repeating his name, over and over. It was the only thing you knew. It was the only thing you wanted to know. "Jungkook, I'm..."

You screamed. Your body flared up in an orgasm so long-awaited, earth-shattering and mind-numbing that it hurt. Electrifying waves of pleasure took over your body, and you were pulsing, trembling, screaming, out of breath and gratified beyond all reason. Your muscles contracted firmly around him, heightening your pleasure and making him throw his head back in ecstasy.

Jungkook slowed down as you came, but once your body relaxed, he started pounding into you and pinching your clit more fiercely than before. You didn't have time to recover. You were being wound tighter again all at once, as if the coil within you had never subsided. You couldn't do anything other than enjoy the sight and let him do your in, until he pulled out so swiftly that you were thrown over the edge a second time. 

He looked at you, his gaze telling tomes of his plans to pleasure you until you pleaded him to stop. You broke the eye contact to look at his cock that was throbbing against your thigh.

"You like what you see?" he smirked, clearly full of himself and the way you gasped at his cock as if it was your first time seeing it. Before you could respond, he kissed you full on the mouth, his tongue slipping through your lips as he did so. You could still taste yourself on his lips, mixed with that taste of him that you could never quite forget since that night he first kissed you.

His lips pressed against your neck the moment his thick cock managed to enter you once again. You gasped, your fingers wrapping around his arms tightly as he nestled himself deep within you, the head kissing the entrance to your womb. Sparks of pleasure ran through your body. Your eyes widened; it just felt like you were thrust into a brave new world, where everything you had ever known ceased to mean what they used to.

He stilled himself for a moment, as if he was allowing you to adjust to the sheer size of him before he went any further. Your eyes fluttered closed as you started to feel like everything you had ever done led up to him, in this moment. Your lips parted in a voiceless moan as you gripped his arms tighter, your fingers sinking into his flesh.

"Oh baby," he whispered in your ear, his voice almost sounding like a moan as he brought his hand to your face to cup your cheek. "Please look at me..."

You opened your eyes, and he gave you that sweet, warm smile as if you had never grown apart. You couldn't help but smile back, finally realising that this was what you were missing out on all this time: a serene, placid love that accepted you for who you are despite your faults, despite everything you've lacked and viceversa.

His hips started moving again, sharp thrusts drawing hushed moans from you as you gripped his shoulders this time, eyes intent to keep their gaze on his. Your hands roamed downwards: down his back, his waist, his hips until you grabbed his tight bum.

You gave him a mischievous smile, and pressed his forehead against yours, laughing a breathy chuckle.

"You're such a naughty girl, baby," he said, his tone coloured with a playful warning as his hands cradled the sides of your face. "We're flipping."

Before you knew it, your back was pressed against his chest. Your limbs were sprawled out under you to support yourself on all fours, however any effort you made to hold yourself up was practically made useless by Jungkook's arm, which wrapped around your waist and pulled you even closer to him as his other arm held you both up.

Jungkook started thrusting again, wilder this time as his cock nudged deeper and deeper against your womb, grinding against spots you never even knew existed. He placed wet kisses all over your shoulders and the crook of your neck, stopping there for a moment as he nuzzled you there.

He stuck his neck out to look at you, hoping to see what you looked like as his cock pushed repeatedly into your depths. With your eyes closed shut as the pleasure overwhelmed you, you couldn't see how captivated he was as he gazed upon your face contorted ecstasy. An errant thrust went deeper than it should have, and you bit down on your lip to stop a loud moan from escaping,

"I wanna hear your pretty little moans again, don't hold back" he whispered in your ear, his deep voice almost sounding like a growling din as he accentuated his last word with a deep thrust back to the depths of your cunt. You couldn't take it anymore; you screamed to the high heavens, and he let out a breathy chuckle, evidently happy with himself and the way he could make you scream.

His fingers found their way around your breast again, toying with your nipple as he suckled on your ear, and you knew that you were going to come undone soon. Your cunt clenched around his cock, and he groaned as his hips jerked harder, faster against you.

"I know you're c-close, baby. I- I'm close too," he moaned, his thrusts speeding up as he became desperate to push you over the edge. "C-cum for me, gorgeous" Jungkook whispered, gripping you even closer to him.

With his last words, you gave in, your cunt spasming wildly around his cock as you threw your head back, another orgasm tearing through you as you screamed his name. The sound of his name coming from your lips pushed him over the edge, his arms holding tightly onto you as his cum spurted deep inside you. He moaned your name, and you felt another surge of pleasure come over you until everything faded to black.

For that instant, time stood still, and nothing was wrong with the world.

You were both sweating, gasping for air, thoroughly satisfied and drunk with pure joy. You were only aware of Jungkook moving away, reaching toward his nightstand's drawer to pull out wet wipes. You couldn't stop thinking how beautiful he is, how lucky you are to be with him here, once again.

This was Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The one you'd been yearning for, and you were never going to let go of again.

"What is it?" he asked curiously, seeing that you were spacing out. You took him in, his hair messy and humid from the sweat, his skin almost shimmering. Being that stunning should be illegal.

"Nothing," you answered truthfully. "I'm just so happy."

"I'm really happy too, baby."

Jungkook offered you a sweet smile and gave you a little peck on the lips, then walked away to throw the wipes in the nearest trash can. This gave you a full view of his perfect body. After what you'd just done, you would've hoped your desires would've gone back to where you kept them locked up - but there they were, alive and present, and if you had to be honest with yourself, you were ready for this new normal.

This new normal was better than the old normal, where you had to endure your pain with your aching heart alone. Everything was easier when Jungkook was next to you. It hadn't escaped you notice that tonight he'd barely let you touch him, at least not as much as he touched you. He'd been focused on you, wanting to make you feel the best that he could... It was a good thing, then, that you knew for a fact there would be a next time.

Jungkook caught you staring again, but you didn't look away. He just stood there for a second, seeming puzzled at your expression, then asked,

"You don't... you don't regret this, do you, noona?"

"Not at all," you answered quickly. "Do you?"

Jungkook came back to you, lying down and wrapping his arms around you. That was all the response he was going to offer, and that was all you needed. You adjusted your position to be able to hold him too and kissed him. He responded in kind, his lips soft and tender. His body against yours was like an oasis in the desert. All you wanted was to live in the sheer bliss of this moment for as long as you could. You were together. That's all that mattered. This way, you could pull through anything.

But the moment was over eventually. Jungkook broke the kiss, touching his forehead against yours, and gave you his boldest grin.

"So... what do you say you give us another chance?"

Your smile was the brightest he ever saw. There wasn't even a need to respond. He already knew your answer was without a doubt 'Yes.'

Something warm pressed itself against your forehead, waking you up. You turned around to find that it was Jungkook, his arm wrapped you as he smiled at you. Everything that had happened rushed back to your half-asleep brain, and you remembered blacking out wrapped in his arms.

"Did you sleep?" you asked him, sitting up as you looked around. In the night, he had clothed your torso with his shirt while he had remained bare chested. Show off.

He shook his head, sitting up with you to fold you up into his arms.

"I couldn't sleep. I was afraid you'd get away from me again," he admitted, looking down to hide his wistful eyes from yours.

Moving quickly, you freed yourself from his arms and straddled his lap, taking him by surprise as you cupped his face and kissed him, the passion of last night resurrecting with a passion.

You broke the kiss and looked at him with compassion. "I'm not going anywhere, Kook."

His smile broke out into a full grin, and his strong arms pulled you down so that your head lay down on his chest again. He held on to you, eyes tearing up with joy as he finally had what he had always sought to have.

"Except..." you uttered, and the grin on on his face turned into parted lips, waiting with a sense of dread for your next words.

"Now that the sun is up, and the storm is over... would you like to go over to Chris' birthday party get-away with me?"

Oh. Right. Chris' birthday is this weekend. Jungkook had already forgotten that Chris had rented a place in Gangneung for you to celebrate with him.

"Yes, yes!" he exclaimed, scrunching his nose with that bunny smile you adore, his heart swelling with relief and joy. "We should go to your place though to pick up your stuff for the weekend."

"Well then, let's get going! Let's re-introduce us to the world, my handsome bunny," you replied, a gentle smile forming on your face as a beautiful future you had once thought of imagining with him began to unfold.

You both scrambled to your feet, as you clothed yourselves and got ready to leave.

He looked at you with so much pride, as if you were the one to be shown to world with rekindled hope. You locked your arm into his as you walked to his car, taking a moment to sink in everything that happened in the last few hours.

You were finally together, as JK had always wanted. He was right; you were meant to be in each other's lives. Giving it much thought, you realized that you still wanted the same things that you used to, except now you wanted his hand in yours each step of the way. Try as you might, you just couldn't escape him. But in his arms, you never felt more free, and you never felt more loved.

Prev | Next?

[lulu24784]

washing machine heart | part 10

"I know who you pretend I am."

[AO3 Link]

previous chapter | next chapter

synopsis: | You're absolutely infatuated with Stan Marsh and have even started dating him! It should be a dream come true, but the truth is, he's only with you to make Wendy Testaburger jealous. To help you work through your emotions, you turn to Kenny McCormick, your best friend.

pairings: | kenny mccormick x fem! reader ; stan marsh x fem! reader ; wendy testaburger x stan marsh

cws: | angst, drug use/drug mentions, explicit language, sexual content, unrequited love, mental health themes / sh, violence

everyone is aged up to be 18+

tag list @c1rice @ayoitsmarie33

It had been about a week since your whole world had come crashing down. Saddened by your recent heartbreak, you were progressively redirecting yourself with other hobbies, such as baking and singing your heart out.

As the sweet melodies of your mother's old iPod filled the air, you couldn't help but wonder how it was still working after all these years. The tunes reverberated through the cozy living room and kitchen, amplified by the trusty stereo that had been a fixture in the house for years. The music was a mix of 80s, 90s, and early 2000s music, which you didn’t mind. As those old songs filled your ears, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, reminding you of the countless hours spent listening to them with your Mother while growing up. 

At the moment, "Cruel Summer" by Bananarama was your jam, and every time you cranked up the volume, you sang out the words with all your might, even occasionally restarting the song before it ended. Along with it, you loudly and wildly sang along to some Backstreet Boys. In all honesty, it was enjoyable and, in a strange way, helpful.

As you swayed your hips to the rhythm of the music, you carefully mixed the cheesecake batter. Just as you hit the high note of your favorite song, your phone chimed, interrupting your impromptu kitchen concert. As the familiar chime of your phone echoed through the room, a grin spread across your face. With your bowl still cradled in your arms, you couldn't resist stealing a quick glance at the screen.

It was Wendy's group chat that she asked you to join. You were thrilled as hell.

If anything good had come out of your recent breakup, it was that you had finally made some new friends. Ones that hung out and did girly stuff! Those childhood pursuits you regret not devoting more time to.

For the past few lunchtimes, you've had the privilege of joining their circle, delighting in their juicy gossip, and chiming in with your own relevant contributions. Your heart would flutter with excitement whenever they inquired about you, loving the fact that they valued your presence enough to seek out more information. You felt loved and wanted, and you wanted that sensation forever.

As you perused through your text alerts, your eyes caught a glimpse of Bebe's message announcing a slumber party at her place tonight and… You were invited! A spark ignited in your eyes as you gently placed your bowl of batter on the counter. You then jumped up with a burst of excitement and let out a delightful squeak of joy. Holy crap! You were about to have your very first sleepover! You needed to get ready!

Oh, but first… You needed to finish with your baking. Ah! Maybe you'd want to share some of the baked goods you've created with the group... A rosy hue spread across your cheeks as the idea crossed your mind, making you feel a touch shy. Would that be too much? 

As your mind raced with a million different ideas, a sudden knock at your kitchen window jolted you back to reality. As you glanced over, Kenny greeted you with a friendly wave and a silly grin on his face. As your gaze met his, you couldn't help but notice the gap in his smile, and a surge of guilt flooded your heart.

With a friendly wave in return, you hurried to the entrance and swung open the door to welcome him in.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?”

“Just popped over to visit my favorite girl~” With a grin on his face, Kenny hugged you tightly, eliciting a joyful chuckle from your lips.

“Geez you! I gotta finish baking, I have a sleepover I’m going to!” Your eyes twinkled with delight as you spoke with Kenny, beaming a radiant smile his way. He patted your head, but his lips curled up in a little pout.

“You’re always so busy now, Princess. You never have time for me, I’m gonna start getting jealous.” 

A playful inflection colored his words, revealing his humorous intent. You gracefully separated yourself from his grasp and headed over to the kitchen counter, resuming your meticulous cheesecake preparations.

“Sorry, Ken! It’s just, it’s been a lot lately and I’m really enjoying my time with them!”

With a grin on his face, Kenny strolled towards the kitchen table and settled himself down, his gaze fixed on you with a gentle warmth.

“I know, babe. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

With a gentle sigh, he leaned forward and let his arms find solace on the sturdy table. His head followed suit, nestling into the comfort of his arms as his unwavering gaze remained fixed on you.

Humming along to the music that filled the air, you gracefully poured the batter into the dish, carefully placing it in the fridge. A contented grin spread across your face as you eagerly awaited the outcome of your no-bake cheesecake after it had been left to chill. With a swift motion, you snatched a muffin from the counter and presented it to Kenny, placing it with care on the table before him.

Then, with an eyebrow lifted, he picked up the muffin and began to snack on it.

“I made it. Is it any good?”

“Tastes good to me. What’d you do? Poison it?” He laughed.

“No… Just wondering if it was good enough for me to bring to the sleepover. Or is that weird?”

“I think they’d like it… Or you could just leave them all for me~”

You shared a grin with Kenny as you both sat at the kitchen table. “I’ll make you your own batch. Oh, that reminds me. You and Karen should come over for dinner soon. My parents still aren’t back and I’m getting pretty lonely here without my lil’ sister around.”

Kenny's face lit up with a bright smile as he gave a nod of approval, savoring the last crumbs of his tasty muffin and playfully licking his fingertips. “Definitely. She’d love that.”

The two of you chatted a little more and listened to music together before he left and you began to get ready for your big slumber party.

—---------------------------------------

Summoning all your bravery, you knocked on Bebe's door with a resounding thud. You took a long, anticipatory inhale, holding it in as you waited for her to answer. You could hear a commotion inside and suddenly, the door burst open and she stood before you, beaming with a bright smile, inviting you inside to join the rest of the girls.

You set your belongings down and presented your homemade muffins to the group. The girls eagerly snatched them up, their eyes lighting up with excitement as they took their first bites. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as you watched them enjoy your baking. 

Thank god.

“Wow! You’re really good at baking, [Name]!” Wendy spoke out as she finished her snack and smiled at you.

“Yeah! Damn, we should’ve invited you a long time ago!” A chuckle escaped Bebe's lips, causing the other girls to shoot her a disapproving glance.

Your lips curled up in a shy smile as you nervously tugged at the hem of your sweater.

“I only just started doing it recently. It’s pretty easy. I bet we could all make something together sometime.” 

“God you’re cute.” With a mischievous grin, Bebe enveloped you in a warm hug while you all lounged on the carpet. Your cheeks turned a rosy hue involuntarily from the interaction. 

“Isn’t she?! I just wanna eat her up.” With a playful twinkle in their eyes, Red and Heidi beckoned you over to join them, leaving poor Bebe behind. As you settled in next to them, their infectious giggles filled the air.

With a smile on her face, Wendy simply shook her head in amusement. “You guys are gonna scare her. [Name], I promise you, they’re not usually this flirty.”

You just giggled, enjoying the attention. 

The night flew by. The group indulged in a fun-filled evening of nail painting, hair braiding, and spine-chilling horror flicks. Occasionally snacking on chips and popcorn. It lived up to every expectation you had envisioned. The only missing pieces to complete the picture-perfect scene were a thrilling game of Truth or Dare and a sexy pillow fight, just like the ones you’d see in the movies.

“So.” 

As you sat comfortably, Bebe's quick fingers weaved through your hair, creating a beautiful braid while Heidi sat across from you, expertly painting your nails with a vibrant shade of red. 

“Have you dated anyone else? Besides Stan?”

All eyes in the room swiveled in your direction, their shared curiosity apparent as they anticipated your response. 

“N-No. Stan is the only guy.” Your voice was a mere whisper as if you were sharing a secret that made you blush. You felt a bit inferior in comparison since you were certain that they had all dated multiple people.

“Really? Not even Kenny?” With a gasp, Red eagerly shoveled handfuls of popcorn into her mouth.

“No… Kenny’s just my friend.”

A burst of giggles erupted from Bebe's lips, quickly spreading throughout the rest of the group with contagious laughter.

“Mhm, girl. Sure. We all got a guy who’s just a friend.” She teased.

“Yeah! Like Red and Kevin.” Heidi giggled.

“Yeah?! What about you and Kyle?! Or is it Eric again?” Red let out a playful huff and stuck her tongue out at Heidi, who responded with a dramatic gasp of mock surprise.

“I’m obviously “just friends” with Clyde.” A delicate giggle escaped Bebe's lips, and a rosy tint painted her cheeks as she uttered her words. “And Wendy-” She paused.

A timid smile spread across Wendy's face as she offered a sheepish shrug. “Um… Tolkien is cute.” 

You were well aware that the mere mention of Stan's name in your presence was a taboo subject, but you didn't mind it one bit. You were now her friend, regardless of whether she had love for him still. If you had to, you'd do your hardest to suppress your feelings for Stan, for her.

“But for real? You and Kenny have never dated?” With a swift maneuver, Heidi steered the topic away from the potentially uncomfortable subject of your current situation with Stan.

“Nope. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. Or him, like that… I guess…” You paused, deep in thought, your finger lightly touching your chin.

“Seriously?! He’s totally into you!” Bebe exclaimed, her hand shaking you as she clutched onto your shoulder in astonishment.

“H-He is?” 

“Yes!” The group shouted in unison.

Your mind was blown by this unexpected information. The idea of Kenny harboring romantic feelings for you had never crossed your mind. His charming and adorable nature made him naturally inclined to be touchy and flirty with everyone he met. He treated you the same way he treated his other friends. You didn't know what to make of this and were left puzzled. 

“But.” You started. “There’s no way. He hasn’t tried anything, and it’s Kenny. I know him!”

“You have so much to learn.” With a wide smile on her face, Wendy chuckled heartily.

At that moment, like fate was just there to fuck with you, there was a tapping on Bebe’s bedroom window. 

A sudden burst of laughter filled the air as the girls couldn't contain their excitement. They hushed each other, eager to catch a glimpse of what was happening outside. Red, the brave one, took the lead and cautiously peeked through the curtains. With a fit of giggles, she withdrew and nestled back into the group of girls.

“So… The guys are outside and they’re throwing fucking rocks at the window.” 

“Oh my god, if they break the glass I’ll kill them!” Bebe yelled and ran to the window, where she tore open the curtains.

From the ground, Stan's crew and Craig's crew eagerly waved up at Bebe, who stood tall above them. As the other ladies scampered towards the window, you hesitantly trailed behind, cautiously peering out. In an instant, your eyes locked with Kenny's, causing a pink shade to bloom across your cheeks. As you averted your gaze, your eyes caught a glimpse of Stan standing beneath you, and a pang of pain shot through your chest. Shit.

“Hey, you stupid bitches!” The grating tone of Eric's voice reverberated with great force throughout the entire neighborhood.

“Tolkien’s parents aren’t home tonight, we're all gonna hang out there!” With a grin stretching from ear to ear, Clyde's palms cradled his cheeks as he projected his words toward the window.

A burst of joyous giggles escaped Bebe's lips. “We’ll be there! Just give us a few minutes to get ready!”

With a slight tug, she drew the curtain shut and closed the window with a soft click. “Change of plans ladies. We’re gonna go party.”

The unexpected turn your night had taken made your stomach start to flip.

[honeybeedrabble]

can i get a tsunade x fem!reader pretty please

perhaps reader is orochimaru’s experiments and tsunade has to help heal and maybe some other stuff too

I AM SO HAPPY I FINALLY GOT A TSUNADE REQUEST !!!

18+ MDNI !!

Warnings: lady tsunade x AFAB!reader, praise (good girl, etc.), hospital sex, oral (f receiving lol), scissoring, breast licking, fingering, brief mention of squirting, abusive orochimaru, mentions of bruises, naïve/sheltered reader, implied age gap (reader is early 20s tsunade is early 50s-late 40s) lmk if i missed anything !!

You remember a lot of your life in a test tube, barely any human interaction except with Orochimaru- who you aren’t even sure you can count as human. It was just another day to you, trying out different tests to see if your regenerative cells were enough to sustain the infinite life your creator wished to have. He was your creator, your father and yet you despised him with all your being. Your sole purpose was to get beaten daily to test your cells. Your father was obsessed with this delusion of surviving infinitely and you were just a means to an end.

You don’t remember much from the fight, just a lot of commotion and soon after you were knocked out cold from god knows what. You could barely open your eyes before you slipped away, but what you watched was your father abandon you for his great escape. You cursed him silently, before slipping away into the darkness of unconsciousness.

You laid in your hospital bed, opening your eyes slowly. As your blurred vision focused, you looked down to your abdomen, a blue-green hue illuminating your core. A pair of hands were clasped on top of you. You followed the arms up you saw the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. She had blonde hair and gorgeous brown eyes that were narrowed into a focused, stoic face. She noticed you staring and looked at you through her lashes, your heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, thank goodness. You’re awake.” She huffed, the glowing mass dimming down until it died out.

“Are you an angel?” You asked, assuming you were dead. She blushed, eyes widening before returning back to your wound and focusing her chakra through your abused skin.

“No, but you’re very sweet,” she said with a smile. “I’m your doctor, I’m here to make you feel better.” She returned her soft hands to your abdomen, the icy-hot feeling of her healing chakra giving off an entirely different sensation to your core. You felt your body heat up everywhere, not used to the feeling of anyone other than yourself healing you.

“Feels… so good,” you trailed off, a slight moan escaping your lips as your body slightly writhed under her care. The woman blushed again, watching you squirm underneath her and she stopped working to place a hand on your chest and gently push you down on the bed.

“What’s your name, miss?” You asked, a weak hand coming to rest on top of hers.

“My name is Tsunade…” She answered, she removed her hand from your chest with yours falling off.

“Tsunade… your name is almost as beautiful as you are. I only say ‘almost’ because I can’t think of anything else that can compare to you.” You confessed. Her cheeks darken to a deeper red, and she placed her hand on your forehead, clearing the hair away from your face. You looked deeply into her eyes, the flush on her face making your heart swell.

“You didn’t get much interaction with others, did you?” she stifled a laugh. You blush, looking away embarrassed.

“No… I’m sorry if I’ve crossed any lines.”

“No-no! Honesty is a good quality. It makes you dependable… something we all need.” Tsunade smiled at you, running her hand down your face and titling your chin towards her.

Her hand trailed up to cup your cheek, smiling at you with adoration in her eyes. You put your hand on the back of her hand and held it softly to your face. Her eyes shined bright as you turned your head and pressed a kiss into her palm.

She slowly climbed on top of you, caressing your cheek as your hands came to grab at each of her thighs. Her thumb traced a bruise against your under eye, you winced slightly.

“Tell me where it hurts, darling,” She whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. You could feel her hands working on your face as her lips collided into yours, suddenly the bruise under your eye stopped hurting and all you could focus on was kissing back. Your hips lifted on their own and Tsunade smirked, breaking the kiss.

“So needy… aren’t we, honey?” She teased, slowly inching in to bite your lower lip and release it before kissing you quickly again. You whimpered, placing your hand on the back of her head to get more leverage. Tsunades hand ran down your face and along your ribs, you felt your body go electric as her hands slid further down.

“Oh angel, you’re going to have to be a good little patient if you want my help, okay?” She teased, tracing circles along your stomach with her pointer.

“Yes doctor,” you nodded fervently. She smirked, inching further down the bed to where her her face was aligned with your stomach. She kissed right below your belly button, her pink lipstick staining your skin and your legs opened all on their own.

“Already so obedient, so easy…” Her tongue emerges from past her plump lips and licks a stripe down to your waistband. You moan, feeling the pool of want in your panties making itself present. You arched your back and gripped the bed sheets. “And so sensitive too… I bet it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“N-no doctor,” you stammered, breathing heavily in pure lust. Tsunade hummed in amusement.

“Well then, I might as well take my time.” She gripped your waistband and tugged it down to your ankles, your panties coming down with them. You kicked off the clothing and they landed on the ground with a thump.

Tsunade sat up, shrugging off her green cardigan and discarding it along with your pants. She unzipped her pants and then dove back down to your glistening cunt.

“Oh, darling. Already so wet for me, aren’t you a good girl?” Her praise made you even wetter, and you felt your face go hot. Tsunades face got closer to your pussy and you held your breath until her tongue made its way across your slick folds, you exhaled with a shaky moan.

Tsunade gripped your thighs down with her hands as she ran her hot tongue down your folds and back up to your clit. She flicked your sensitive bud and you bucked your hips up with a loud whine, unable to keep yourself controlled. She smirked, holding your thighs down harder as her tongue went to town on your sloppy cunt.

“Ngh- so good,” you whined as she sucked on your pussy, running her tongue back down to your weeping hole to gather your slick back up to your clit.

“I know, darling and you’re doing so good. You taste so sweet too,” She breathed, letting go of on of your thighs to dip her hand into her pants and rub circles along her own clit through her panties. She moaned against your cunt, her lips placing a kiss on your inner thigh before attacking your sensitive pussy again.

“Darling, you’re going to need to be good for me. So I need to stay still for me, okay?” She asked, staring back up at you. You nod, and bring your hands to your shaky thighs, holding them down flat.

“Good girl,” she removes her hand from your thigh then rubs a finger along your pussy and you sigh, clenching around nothing. “Oh I see, you already know, don’t you sweetheart?” Tsunade teases, pressing two fingers against your hole.

“P-Please Tsunade… I need you,” you beg, eyes tearing up in anticipation.

“I hear you,” her fingers plunge themselves into you and you clench at their arrival, moaning deeply as they push through your tight walls.

She resumes eating you out agonizingly slow as her fingers curl against your spongy walls, squelching as you feel your juices run down her hand. You try to keep your thighs and hips down with all your strength, your chest heaving as you look down at her pleasuring you with her tongue.

Tsunade moans as she ruts into her hand, fingering you with the other as she soaks her own panties. She speeds up her fingers inside of you as she loses her patience and eat you out as if she were starved. You gripped the bed sheets tightly and unleash a symphony of moans and gasps, quivering under Tsunades touch as you came around her fingers hard. Your whole body felt hot as she sucked and licked at your poor folds, focusing on your clit. Your face felt impossibly hotter as you twiched in agonizing ecstasy. She moaned as your pussy gushed hot juices down her chin and she lapped you for all you had.

You felt your clit twitch as you laid down on the bed, Tsunade took your shirt off of you and your tits came out. She kissed your breasts and ran her tongue along your areola, occasionally licking your sensitive nipple and sucking it into her mouth as you squirmed underneath her.

“You did such a good job, but I didn’t finish yet sweetheart. You’re going to have to keep up with me because I’m not going to be easy on you.” She kisses you and you taste your juices on her lips, her tongue breaking through and into your mouth as it swirled around, coating your mouth with your own flavor.

She broke the kiss and pulled down her pants, sliding them off completely and tossing them to the ground. She placed a hand on your chest and pushed you down on your back, kneeling in front of you withher knees at each side of your head. She looked down at you with a smug grin.

“Care to help me?” She asked, looking down at her lacy panties. You nodded, easing yourself up and biting down on her waistband, pulling her underwear down to her knees as you sank lower back onto your pillow.

Her pussy was as wet as yours and you lifted yourself up to lick at her folds. She let out a shaky exhale then pinched the waistband and ditched her underwear too. She maneuvered her way to your thighs. You lay down on your side and she grabbed your leg and lifted it over her shoulder, nestling her cunt dangerously close to yours before grinding against you with a deep sigh. You whimpered, feeling her heat against yours and the obscenely wet squelches filled the room. Her soft cunt nestled into yours was too good, you pathetically started to grind back against her.

“You like that?” She asked, her wet clit grinding right against yours. The circular movement of her hips had you breathing impossibly deeper, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

“I can tell,” she laughed lightly.

As she rode your pussy, your combined juices leaked down her thigh and onto yours. Her cunt was hot and wet pressed against yours, each buck of her hips sent a shiver down your spine and you could feel yourself coming undone yet again. Tsunades sighs became heavier, her grip on your thighs tighter and her pace was unrelating. Her stamina had nothing to do with her age, as she fucked you with all her energy on the hospital bed you lay in.

“Please… Please let me cum doctor,” you mewled. You sat up and she wrapped her arms around your head, clutching you to her tits. Your leg fell of her shoulder and instead wrapped itself around her waist. You stuck your tongue out and wrapped your lips around her hard nipples. She moaned as you licked her breasts, her hips swaying back and forth.

“Oh, you’re so good darling. Keep doing that, you’re such a good girl,” she moaned, her hips stuttering against yours. You moaned deep into her cleavage, drooling all over her tits as you came against her pussy. You felt yourself get impossibly wetter, pleasure shooting out of you and against the princess infront of you.

“Ahh- yeah baby, come on me… Just like I’m going to all over that pretty pussy of yours.” The slippery feeling of her cunt against yours made her grip your hair tightly, holding on for dear life as her own pleasure consumed her.

“Oh sweetheart, you feel so good-“ she cried, her hips messily bucking against yours as she gripped your hair even tighter.

You maneuvered your hand to your pussy, spreading your slippery lips open so she could ride you until her legs buckled underneath her. Then she crashed onto the bed next to you with a sigh.

Your both lay on the bed intertwined, catching your breaths. She stroked your hair softly as she held you to her chest. Tsunade tilted your head towards her, thoroughly examining your face.

“Your face… you’re so much more beautiful when you’re not covered in bruises,” she softly spoke, placing a kiss under your eye. You exhaled softly, closing your eyes and laying there in post-nut content.

“Tell me everything you know about him. That bad man will never touch you again.”

A/N: TWO FICS IN ONE WEEK?!??!! y’all are getting well fed enjoy !!

[ohthatstragic]

Green Eyed Monster - p.m

a/n: i kept this gender-neutral as the request didn't use any specific pronouns! i hope this is okay, i'm not great at writing jealous mav so pls if you want me to re-write it or re-work it please let me know, i will do that :) i want it to be the best i can do! < 3

i didn't have time to proofread this so if i used a non-gender neutral pronoun somewhere pls let me know!!

also pls don’t repost or translate any of my work.. i don’t give you permission to do that.

pairings: maverick x reader, platonic!rooster x reader

warnings: age gap, fluff, angst, jealousy

wc: 1,571

the request: 'how about the reader and mav being in a relationship w an age gap, and mav sees the reader and rooster being really close and he starts to get jealous and insecure!'

Maverick was never an insecure person, let alone a jealous one. No, he was always confident and self-assured. However, all of that changed when he met you. The second you stepped foot in The Hard Deck, he was hooked. You were laughing at something Phoenix said and he couldn't help but stare at the way your cheeks pinkened and the way the creases of your eyes crinkled as you squeezed your eyes shut, laughing away.

A faint smile crossed his lips as he thought back to the first time he saw you. Now, you were his, and he was yours. The man was completely enamoured by you. The squad agreed that you had him wrapped around your finger. Despite that, there was a significant age gap between you two so Maverick felt like you could disappear at any point had you laid eyes on a younger, handsomer version of him. Currently, the two of you were in The Hard Deck with the rest of the squad. Maverick sat out of the way of the younger group, watching as you all joked and laughed together. It made him think back to his youth and how he had done the same thing with Goose.

You parted ways with the squad and headed back towards Maverick, who you noticed was sitting alone, nursing a beer. "Hey, handsome." You grinned, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Maverick couldn't help but smile back at you, his heart beaming with happiness.

"Hi, sweetheart," He said, gazing at you with such adoring eyes. A soft laugh left your lips as you stared back at him, his hands coming to rest on your hips. "You look beautiful tonight." Maverick admitted, pulling you between his legs with a lopsided smirk.

You felt your cheeks burn at his words. "You trying to get lucky?" You teased, a playful smile slipping onto your face. Maverick cocked a brow at you, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. As a matter of fact, Maverick didn't need to try to get lucky with you, you were willing to do anything for the man. In all honesty, you were whipped.

Like the man read your mind, he said, "I don't need to try." He grinned, pressing a sweet kiss against your lips.

"We're gonna play a game of darts, I came over to see if you wanted to join." You offered, letting your hands snake around Maverick's neck, sending a pleasurable tingle down his spine. He wrinkled his nose up at the offer and hummed for a moment, acting like he was actually debating the offer. The second he wrinkled his nose, you knew he didn't want to.

"I think I'll watch," He finally said, making you groan.

"Okay, you can be my cheerleader then?" You laughed as you let your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. Maverick pursed his lips at your question, slightly unsure of whether you were being serious or not. "Mav, I'm joking, you don't need to do that."

"I mean, if you really need.." He trailed off. You couldn't help the amused smirk that found it's way onto your face, and Maverick noticed, soon stopping himself from finishing that sentence. "You know what, I'll just cheer you on from the side." He stated, his nose wrinkling again as he gently shook his head. You laughed at him again and planted another soft kiss on his cheek, your hands coming to cup his cheeks as you pulled away, heading toward the group of Hangman, Rooster, Coyote, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback and Bob.

Maverick had a content smile on his lips as he watched you walk away from him, his heart fluttering at the sight of you turning round to give him a final wave before you returned to the squad.

"Hey, guys," You smiled, purposely bumping into Rooster's shoulder to make yourself known. The taller pilot glanced down at you and threw an arm around your shoulder, grinning. You and Rooster were pretty close friends, after all he was the one that introduced you to Maverick. The two of you had grown up together on the same street, and so it was almost like fate that you would be best friends for the rest of your lives. 

The squad looked at you expectantly to hear what Maverick had to say to their offer of a game of darts. "He said no." You pouted, and Rooster squeezed your shoulders, rubbing them with a smile.

"He probably just didn't want you to embarrass him." Rooster laughed, and you pushed him away with a jokey roll of your eyes, failing to suppress the laughter that left your lips.

"Hey, he could kick your ass any day, Bradshaw!" You warned with a cheeky grin, giving him a playful shove.

"Alright, kids, settle down," Hangman announced as he grabbed the three darts from the bar-table beside him, his tongue poking out from his lips as he concentrated.

Back at the bar, Maverick felt his heart drop as he watched you and Rooster banter together, his eyes staring at the way he held you by your shoulders. An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach and he made himself look away from the two of you, but the loud, familiar laughter he loved so dearly forced Maverick to glance back at you again. The beaming smile on Rooster's face as he stared at you made his heart ache. Maverick started to doubt himself as he continued to observe the two of you and the chemistry that bubbled between you and Rooster. Maybe you deserved someone like Goose's son - someone younger than him, someone who could actually give you what you wanted out of life. Someone who wouldn't make you a widow at the age of sixty.

Maverick let his eyes fall to the beer bottle in his hand, his fingers scraping anxiously at the wet, peeling paper label. He ignored the continuous cheers and merry chatter that echoed from the group of you - he couldn't bear to look at how happy you currently looked beside Rooster, it suddenly felt like a huge, unbearable weight had landed on Maverick's chest and he couldn't lift it.

Another series of cheers and Maverick couldn't bear it anymore. He had to see what was going on. To his dismay, you were giggling with the brightest and most beautiful grin he'd ever seen as Rooster lifted you up with a matching grin, his hands underneath your arms. His jaw clenched as he watched you again, pain and the dreaded feeling of insecurity settling in his chest. Maverick cast his eyes back down to his beer bottle and his nails went back to attacking the paper label once more.

A pair of familiar shoes suddenly poked out from underneath his beer bottle. He looked up.

"You okay, honey?" You questioned, having noticed your boyfriend's uncomfortable behaviour from when you were stood at the dartboard. You knew his nervous habits like the back of your hand, and when you saw him scraping at the beer bottle, you knew something was wrong. "Don't lie to me, because I know there's something wrong." You pressed, placing a comforting and gentle hand atop of his fidgety ones.

Maverick sighed, followed by a groan. "Why are you with me?" He asked honestly. You blinked at him, shocked at why he would ask such a question. You opened your mouth to say something in reply, but you were utterly gobsmacked at his question. "Don't you want someone young.. like Rooster over there?" He shrugged, nodding at the aforementioned pilot.

You closed your mouth with a small smile, finally realising what this was about. "Baby, I want you," You said gently. This was a sensitive topic as you knew Maverick felt guilty about the age gap between you two. "Rooster and I are very good friends, he's been there for me during some very dark times, and we grew up together. Bradley is like a brother to me. I only have eyes for you, Mav." You shuffled closer to him, your hand taking the almost empty beer bottle out of his hands and placing it against the bar. Maverick automatically let his hands sit around your hips, his fingers sliding through your belt loops on your blue jeans as you got as close as possible to him; your bodies flush against each other. "You're the man of my dreams, and I'm not letting you go anytime soon, so, I'm sorry about that." You giggled, pressing a kiss to his temple. He smiled at your endearing act and closed his eyes for a quick moment, relishing in your sweet touch. He's never loved something or someone more.

"Sometimes I feel like you deserve someone else." Maverick admitted as he laid his head softly against your chest, inhaling your intoxicating scent gently. "You don't need to be worrying about whether I'll wake up the next morning or not." He joked darkly, and it made you gasp.

"Pete! Don't ever say that!" You slapped his head softly, and he let out a cheeky chuckle. "For the record, I have never, ever thought of that." You added, failing to suppress the giggle that left your lips. "You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you. I like it that way."

"Yeah, I suppose so." He teased, earning another slap on the back of his head from you. "Hey!"

You giggled. "Besides, I'm hopelessly and utterly in love with you, so there's not much you can do about that, Mav."

my masterlist

how to request something

tag list:

@hlstead

@shakespear-picaso-lovechild

@risingtripletaurus

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@elenavampire21

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — silverfox!DBF!sidney crosby x reader 𝐰𝐜 — 4.4k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — it may not be the right plant, but it's close enough to justify upholding the festive tradition.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i have no explanation for this, but i don't think it needs one. i think it's pretty obvious i... indulged before sitting down to write

18+ MDNI | content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — unspecified age gap (everyone's legal, dw), smokin' grass (oiud, a joint, mary jane, whichever term you want to use), 18+ content — innocence/corruption kink, adult language/dirty talk, sexual activity under the influence between two consenting adults, fingering (r), oral (r), slight exhibitionism kink, unprotected p in v + creampie (a very merry chrysler to you)

THE BATHROOM DOOR swings open before you can snub it out against the windowsill.

Your heart lurches against your sternum.

You could’ve tossed the joint out into your mother’s rose bushes, and it still wouldn’t have mattered. If the hazy cloud didn’t make it obvious, the potent smell certainly did. And, unfortunately for you, the window above the toilet is barely wide enough to accommodate your arm, let alone act as an escape route.

Hesitantly—and crossing your fingers it isn’t either of your parents or uptight Aunt Karen—you pivot on the balls of your feet.

Standing in the doorway is Sidney Crosby. A wealthy bachelor and the recent purchaser of 239 Cherry Lane, the picturesque two-story with a white-picket fence two doors down from your childhood home.

And your father’s newly minted best friend.

You hadn’t spent any time with him yet, having been hunkered down wrapping up your final semester of graduate school, but from the stories you heard, you felt as though you had.

Mainly from your mother, who complained incessantly about the poker nights, fishing trips, and the Penguins tickets that stole him away during your weekly mother-daughter phone calls.

You thought it was nice that this stranger cared. A very handsome stranger—but you already knew that.

The way you saw it, there's no harm done in introducing a few of his Facebook and LinkedIn photos into the visual rotation during your nocturnal... endeavors.

What he—and your parents—didn't know wouldn't kill them.

By now, you’ve come undone to the licks of silver at his temples and the thick bulge of his experienced body, namely his corded forearms, more times than you’d ever admit. You fantasized often about the web of veins and how it might feel pressed against your stomach as he pet you from the inside out. Or how erotic the moonlight would look, crawling through the valleys of his firm muscles as he cages you beneath him, entirely at his mercy.

The intimate acts of your overactive imagination were to blame for a false sense of familiarity, no matter how or if you pretended otherwise.

“It’s medicinal?” you offer meekly.

His expression is hard, unconvinced.

With a sigh, you concede. The milky fog was starting to waft into the hallway anyway. If you don’t act quickly, someone else might follow the trail and discover your illicit habit.

So, you try your hand at honesty. “Not technically prescribed by a medical professional per se, but I use it that way. I have terrible migraines. And anxiety.” When Sidney still doesn’t respond, your mouth keeps running. “With the holidays and finals and everything else... I just needed to take the edge off. Just—just please shut the door.”

He does.

Behind himself.

“Please,” you murmur, voice falling soft. You have an inkling as to why he’s trapped you in here with him, and you desperately hope you’re right. You sweeten your voice, “Please, don’t tell anyone.”

In the midst of your appeal, the hem of your skirt jumped into the pocket fashioned out of your upper thighs and lower abdomen. If your mother could see you now, she’d scold you for creating such an indecent, unladylike display. She’d call you rude for "burdening a gentleman with your sensuality."

Mr. Crosby doesn't seem to mind.

You can tell he’s enjoying the view; his gaze is steady as he shamelessly assesses your body. Crouching on top of the toilet seat begins to feel like kneeling centerstage. When his exploration ceases—for the time being—his eyes are impossibly dark, inky with lust.

Even from your perch, you can tell he's big. Far larger than anyone you've been with previously. He is going to wreck you forever; you need to be ruined for anyone else. His heavy, unwavering stare has placed you on the cusp of a freefall; there's no going back now. Once he touches you, it's over for anyone else.

You're giddy, laser-focused on the outline of his erection, impossible to ignore as it twitches beneath his immaculately pressed slacks.

“I won’t,” he promises and takes a step closer. “So long as you share.”

“You get high?”

It comes out more crassly than you intend. Embarrassment creeps over the bridge of your nose, burning the skin from the inside out.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Sidney chuckles, mercifully un-offended.

You drink in the rich sound with the intention of drowning in it.

Sidney lowers himself onto the ground beside your feet, his back against the wall. He starts talking again, looking up at you through his eyelashes, “I was getting stoned before you were even born, kid.”

Your thighs rub at the pet name. Your body clenches around nothing. No one had ever called you that before, at least not in this way, let alone someone as attractive as your father's best friend.

You never could have anticipated how viscerally your body would react to such an overtly corrupt term of endearment—it's incredible.

He catches the subtle shift in your demeanor and smirks.

Desperate to distract him, you hold out the joint. “Here.”

He takes it.

“Cute,” Sidney muses at the novelty hemp paper.

Your face warms, suddenly feeling much younger than you are. Head empty and body heavy, you're stuck between floating and falling.

The polka-dots, which felt like a fun idea at the time of purchase, now make you want to bury your head into the decorative hand towels by the sink.

You don't want to be cute. Not now, maybe not ever. And definitely not in the eyes of Sidney Crosby.

Men like him don’t fuck “cute."

“Could use some work, but you’ll learn. Over time,” he says, tone carefully neutral, as he puffs out the residual smoke and moves the joint between his fingers.

He’s not trying to be cruel or to embarrass you further. Just making an observation; it wasn’t balanced, too thick at one end. You’ve done better, and you’ve done worse.

Sidney holds it out to you. You slide down onto the floor to retrieve it, but as you move to take it back, Sidney clicks his tongue.

Only when he lifts it a bit higher do you understand what he wants from you.

Slowly, you lean over his massive thigh and wrap your lips around the joint. Your body trembles, and you try to focus on the comforting taste of the rolling paper to soothe yourself.

He brings your palm to his quad to steady you, but it only makes the nerves worse.

“Inhale,” he whispers into your hair.

Compelled by his voice or reflex, your body obeys.

His free thumb coasts along your jaw, keeping you in place while you get your fill. Hunched over his lap, his intimidating bulge is directly below your chest. If you bent down any lower, you’d be resting right on it.

You (more than) like the idea but still aren't unsure if he wants to act on the mutual—and palpable—desire. Maybe he's feeling particularly responsible tonight.

But maybe he's feeling irresponsible instead.

You lean away once you’ve inhaled enough, pursed lips falling away from the damp paper. Before you can open your mouth to release the cloud, Sidney lifts your chin.

“Hold it for me. That's it, kid—just like that."

Your exhalation is mortifying. Choked and rough, it’s worse than the first time you tried your hand at Ron Slaters’ bong in his parents’ basement. You felt like a novice who couldn’t match their bite up with their bark.

For someone with a habit, you weren’t behaving like it.

Sidney’s smile is one of gentle amusement as he gently rubs your lower back.

Though not at your expense. It's the sound of fondness, the affectionate kind of touch—the kind that encourages you to do something you might regret.

“Please,” you beg, nose brushing against his.

You begged him earlier, but for something mostly innocent: to keep a secret. Now, you’re begging him to be one.

“Please, what, kid?” Sidney whispers.

His breath is humid on your skin. He closes some of the distance, but not all. He wants this—wants you, but he's careful about how he conveys it. Decades your senior, he’s more patient and calculated than you are, or are even capable of being.

“Tell me what you want. I need to hear you say it plainly before I touch you. I won’t if you have any doubts. Can’t have any wires getting crossed.”

“Please—kiss me.”

“That’s it?” he teases. “You could’ve gotten a kiss earlier when we were under the mistletoe at your front door.”

He knows damn well why you hadn’t kissed him then. Your father appeared with a beer before you could even exchange pleasantries. But you’re too needy to fight with him over minor details. At least, not right now.

“I need you to touch me, please. Anywhere—everywhere. Want you so badly. I’ll take anything you give me. I promise I’ll be so good for you, Mr. Crosby.”

Your pleas stun you both.

He growls at the moniker, eyes darkening. “Such a filthy mouth for such a sweet little girl. I wonder how well it handles cock."

Immediately, your hands jump to his belt. Sidney catches your wrists and shakes his head. You whimper, pouting like a petulant child.

Sensory input is amplified tenfold now, and just the firm grip of his large, strong hand sets off a million tiny fireworks beneath your skin. Your emotions are intensified, too. His intervention is discouraging, and it leaves you feeling juvenile, small and dejected.

“I want to find out what you taste like, princess. I want to see if you taste as good as you look,” Sidney explains. “Will you let me?”

A nod is all he needs.

You’re pliant in his hold as he pulls you up to stand. Still holding your wrists in his palm, he turns the sink on and tosses the shrunken joint into the puddle that forms.

Then, Sidney walks you backward until you’re pinned between the cold wall and his warm chest. He leans into you further, lips finally drawing yours into a surprisingly chaste kiss.

He tastes like eggnog and weed—your new favorite flavor.

You whine as he pulls away but go quiet when he sinks down onto his knees.

Sidney grabs your left ankle, gently placing your foot onto the porcelain lid that was formerly your throne.

A cool rush of air mingles with the mind-altering buzz from your strain of choice, making you feel as if you’ve been on vibrate for hours.

The intensity of your arousal prevents you from realizing how quickly the situation has devolved into depravity.

“No panties?” Sidney tsks as his thumbs stroke your inner thighs. “Maybe you aren’t as sweet and innocent as you want people to believe you are.”

“I don’t like how suffocating they feel,” you mumble in response.

Bashful, like you’ve done something naughty. And maybe you had…

“Oh, I believe you; pussies this ripe need to breathe,” he says with a bout of quiet laughter.

After his palms push your thighs further apart, his dry chuckle morphs into an awestruck sigh.

“My God, you have the prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen, kid. Even through your tights, I can tell. Could probably tell with my eyes closed—you smell that sweet. Your little hole is already weeping for me, ’s so wet and ready. Can I get a better look, princess? Are you gonna let me rip these open and lick you real good?”

Chest heaving, you nod.

“Words, kid. I need words.”

“Yes, Mr. Crosby—rip my tights and let me feel your tongue,” you moan into the ceiling.

“There's my good girl.”

You aren’t sure if it's the praise or the possessive edge to his voice or the thundering tear that sends your hands carding through his salt and pepper hair, but you know it's his lips ghosting over your clit that warrants the harsh tug.

Sidney hisses, but the pain only encourages him to consume you fully.

Eventually, his thumb takes over on behalf of his mouth. He rests his cheek against your thigh, those wide, chocolatey eyes boring into yours. “I want to feel you squeeze my tongue while you’re cumming. Ride my face, bump that cute clit against my nose—use me to get yourself off. Show me how filthy my girl can be."

And you do, passionately bucking your hips with reckless abandon. You’re locked on the thrill; the danger crumbles away. The floor drops out from under your feet.

Sidney remains latched to your folds, tongue deep and wide, lapping up your orgasm like a starved man.

“You know, you’ve got some good tricks.” Your compliment is mostly air, expression placid. But the light jab that follows is all husk. “—for an old man.”

Sidney chuckles as he swipes his thumb across his bottom lip, now both glistening with the evidence of your undoing. He catches you staring and dips the finger into his mouth, savoring the last few drops as he corners you.

You gulp, shocked by his brazen display and intimidated by his closeness.

“Have you ever been with an old man, princess, or am I your first?”

The way his voice drops off into the question reminds you of summer camp. Like you’d chosen truth over dare and now had to admit to your entire cabin that you were still a virgin. Like Josh Meyers noticed your hands were shaking as you fumbled with his belt in the backseat of his Land Rover.

This time, you hesitate because the answer isn’t simple anymore. The admission gets caught in your throat, so you nod. Your gaze droops to the bathroom floor as you wait for the door to click shut.

You anticipate losing your appeal for him because he won’t get to claim anything special for the effort.

“Naughty girl,” Sidney chides from behind a toothy grin as his blunt fingers prod at your sensitive entrance. You gasp as he pushes a few in. “Who was he? Anyone I would know?”

You shake your head. His chin dips.

Sidney coaxes more details out of you with a flick of his wrist. His digits curl up, the pads of his fingers massaging that delicious, spongy spot.

“My Russian Literature professor last semester. After I handed in my final.”

Even though he's knuckle-deep, you feel the need to clarify the timeline. As if he was going to be disappointed in you if you seduced your professor sooner, unbothered by the risk your wonton behavior posed for the man.

If anything, Sidney looks enraptured by your vulgar candor.

Emboldened, you tack on salacious details. “Directly after I handed in my final. At the front of the empty lecture hall on his desk. Over it, actually. He told me he prefers fucking his students from behind so they can keep watch while he loses himself. Anyone could’ve walked in, but I didn’t care. I needed to feel him too badly, and I’d been forced to wait all semester.”

“That must’ve been so hard, huh?” he muses, tone violently patronizing.

Your hips buck in his hand. You like that he speaks to you like he knows more than you—knows better than you.

Like he should make your choices for you.

His smile twists, “Poor baby had to be patient to get what she wanted rather than just having it handed to her on a silver platter? I can’t imagine how badly this greedy little cunt,” Sidney swirls your clit for emphasis, and your stomach jolts, “...ached every day that you weren’t stuffed to the brim with an older man’s cum.

Don’t worry, princess, you won’t have to wait very long to feel the stretch of my big cock. Or the flood of my seed. Just a little bit longer, okay? You can wait for me, can’t you? You need to give me another before I can fuck you. Need you nice and relaxed—receptive.”

Dumbly, you bob your head.

He drags his unoccupied thumb over your closed lips. Languidly, from corner to corner. In the middle, he lingers on your cupid's bow as if committing the feel of it to memory. Then, his thumb fixes itself on the lax seam of your lips. It doesn’t take any effort to slot the tip inside. He rests atop your bottom teeth.

Tentatively, your tongue slips forward to greet him. When you make contact, Sidney groans. He shoves the digit forward, causing you to gag in surprise. With the rest of his fingers wrapped around your chin and jaw, his thumb starts gently massaging your tongue.

Sidney is fucking you at both ends.

“So easy—already broken in,” he hums.

It feels like an insult (because it probably is), but your nipples pebble all the same. He notices and grinds his bulge against your stocking-clad thigh.

“I didn’t even need to say anything. You already knew exactly what to do. And you’re doing such a good job sucking on it. Blowing my thumb while you hump my palm like the good little bitch you are. Make yourself gush, little girl. Get my hand nice and soaked so I can play with that pretty clit as I pound your hole.”

You want him to fuck you so badly you’ll do anything he tells you to.

And he knows it, too.

Your walls constrict around the three fingers you’ve eagerly welcomed between your thighs, and, as if on command, the tight knot in your stomach snaps. Your vision goes fuzzy around the edges as you flood his hand.

“My little girl likes my filthy words, doesn’t she?” Sidney coos. He wrenches his thumb from your mouth so he can hear you whimper a small affirmation. “I bet I could make you come apart with them alone, don’t you? This pussy knows its master—knows the sound of his voice.”

Sidney devours your wide eyes. His meaty tongue, the one that lapped at your folds minutes ago, pokes at his cheek. With his head cocked to the side with delight, he hits the last nail in your coffin.

One hand beside your head on the wall and the other still buried in the warmth between your legs, he asks, “What would your parents say if they knew their perfect princess seduces older men for sport? Men older than her own father?”

You’re writhing now, drowning in sweltering euphoria. The words coming from your mouth are barely there, and the sentences they attempt to form are incoherent.

Sidney revels in your blank stare and tacky cheeks. He’s barely started, and he's already fucked you dumb. Now, he’s going to reap his reward.

“A girl like you needs a man. A boy your age wouldn’t know what to do with you,” he moans, fishing out his cock.

Sidney strokes himself a few times as you watch. He teases your clit with the bulbous head, hissing as he does. Soon, Sidney lines himself up with your entrance but only pushes in an inch or so.

Too shallow, too empty.

Desperately, you claw at his sweater-clad shoulders, begging for more. Sidney takes pity on you and sheathes himself, hips flush to yours with one stroke.

You shriek into his chest at the dull pressure.

He burrows his head into the crook of your neck. His teeth graze your pulse point as he kisses his way up to your ear. Sidney's words are stifling.

“They’re too inexperienced, too young. They can’t give you what you want. What your body needs. A good girl like you deserves to be fucked the way she craves. Dirty and hard. I am the only one capable of that.”

You nod your agreement, body limp between him and the bathroom wall.

A ragdoll at best.

Sidney is caressing parts of yourself you hadn’t known existed, and each with little fanfare. He moves, and you fall apart at the seams. He breathes, and you crumble at his feet. He looks your way, and you kneel at his altar. You get lost in the moment and in your own head. In his dark brown eyes and upturned mouth.

After two orgasms and over half of a joint, you’re incredibly sensitive. On the brink. Your third peak arises far sooner than you’re accustomed to, inner walls fluttering around his length as the tip rubs them so tenderly.

Sidney grabs hold of your chin and forces you to show him; he wants to watch your ruin.

He looks like he’s about to say something—no doubt something that would make you feel as though you needed to repent tomorrow morning—but he’s interrupted before he can.

By your father.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re lighting up in there. I can smell it from out here. You know I don’t care, but your mother does. Even more, considering we have guests over.”

He sounds defeated. Your mother probably yanked him from the garage (see: the makeshift man cave) so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.

“Finish up and get back out here. The Finnegans have been waiting to talk to you about a lead on a job since they arrived half an hour ago. And you haven’t said hello to Ben yet.”

You dig your teeth into your bottom lip so hard that it splits open. Sidney’s thumb pushes down harder on your clit; he laps up the beads of crimson.

“Go on, little girl. Your father’s talking to you,” he whispers against your skin.

His hips slow, but never stop. Relentless. He nips your earlobe, then your pulse point, before settling his incisors into what of your shoulder the hideous sweater allows. Sidney pacifies the angry indentations with the tip of his tongue before continuing to taunt you.

“It would be very, very rude not to acknowledge him. And you’re not rude, are you? Tell him you’re so close to finishing. Be a good girl for me and repeat exactly that. We wouldn’t want to keep Ben waiting, now would we?”

Jealousy is rolling off of his body in brutal waves.

As if you’d trade him out for a boyish loser you broke up with in high school. That might've been nearly a decade ago, and you doubted he’d matured any since then.

Besides, why would you bother with him when you already had the perfect man rutting into you like it's his last night on Earth?

“I-I hear you, I’m almost done,” you croak. Sidney takes issue with your diction and nips at your ear once more. A warning—the first and last. You rephrase, “I’m almost finished. T-hen, I need a m-minute to clean myself up. But I’ll be right out! Promise!”

Writing off the stuttering as a guilty tick, your father retreats.

Sidney waits to speak until you can no longer hear his footsteps padding down the hall.

“Atta girl,” he says sweetly against your brow. “Taking me so deep with your own father on the other side of the door. Me, his best friend. You’re fucking yourself with his best friend’s cock. You’re going to cream all over his cock, too, aren’t you? You dirty fucking slut. C’mon, use your words. Tell me how your slutty little pussy is going to cream all over my huge cock and then milk it dry.”

“Mr. Crosby—Sidney…” you whine. Just his name pouring from your mouth sends him to the edge. “’m going to cum all over your cock. I’m so fucking close to creaming all over your cock. My s-slutty little pussy is going to milk you dry—fuck—milk it until you’re empty.”

“If your pussy does a good job and swallows all of it, I might just keep you,” he rasps. “Hell, I might keep you regardless. This is the hottest, tightest pussy I’ve ever been inside. I couldn’t give that up, and I don't think I will. You don't mind if I keep you, do you, princess?”

You whimper with delight. After tasting forbidden fruit, you weren’t sure you could go without. It's a relief to know you won’t have to.

Sidney will take care of you.

“Of course, you wouldn’t. That was your intention all along, wasn’t it, naughty girl? You were practically eye-fucking me when you answered the door. But don't give yourself too much credit, kid. I’ve been waiting to get you alone—to have you to myself—all evening. How could I not follow you back here?

Now that I have you, I’m going to make you cum, and then, I’m going to make you taste yourself. I want you to know what your fucked-out cunt tastes like after taking a fat, creamy load from your dad’s best friend.”

What happens next feels like being thrust into the eye of a storm after spending days in the thick of the destruction. Brilliant clarity. A breath of fresh air you hadn’t known you required. But you aren’t the one in control, and neither is he. You’re both at the mercy of carnal desire. Like a puppet on a string, you succumb to its power, letting go of everything you were holding back. You give, and you give until there’s nothing left but wobbly knees and labored breathing.

When his forehead kisses yours, you welcome the newfound warmth spreading below your navel. You clench down. Yes, to milk him as you promised, but also to prevent him from leaving before you're ready. As if you'd ever be. He’d have to go eventually; someone would come looking for one or both of you, but not yet.

“Let’s have a taste, shall we?” he whispers after a few minutes of relative quiet.

That's not really what he’s asking. He wants to know if you’re okay with him sliding out. Reluctant but enticed by the idea, you nod.

True to his word, Sidney sinks onto the floor to slot himself between your knees. His warm palms graze your skin from ankle to knee, then back down again. He pushes your wrinkled skirt into your shaking hands before nudging your legs further apart with his own palms.

Sidney sighs with contentment as he takes in the mess you made together. He dives in without letting another moment pass.

“Delicious—I could drink from you all night,” he hums against your sopping-wet folds.

Sidney drags his tongue across your heat a few more times before standing.

“Open,” he demands.

You comply, and he hooks open your mouth with his pointer finger. Sidney’s face brushes yours as he spits the evidence of your tryst down your sore throat. Your knees weaken, your body relaxing in the afterglow of the ephemeral high.

“All clean,” he says, smug as ever.

He pecks your cheek and steps back.

With a wink, Sidney adds, “Mistletoe is my favorite holiday tradition.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what we were smoking,” you quip, breathless.

Mr. Crosby's lips curl at the ends. He fucked you good and hard, and, still, you have cheek to spare.

He's going to have fun with you.

“I’ll be at your father’s poker night on Wednesday," is all he says before stepping out into the dim hallway.

Sidney shuts the door, and, like the first time, he's standing on the wrong side of it.

As he retreats, his cum drips down your inner thighs.

Your body trembles with anticipation; he wants to see you again.

Soon.

──── PART TWO ────

my lovely patrons gained access to this piece on DEC 18, 2022. learn more HERE!

asks, reblogs, and comments are very welcome and greatly appreciated! the best way to support the creators you love (and encourage them to post more for you to read) is by engaging with their content in a meaningful way!

thank you for reading, and happy holidays <3

────────────

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

⤑ to my inbox 💌

⬸ back to the catalog

⬸ back to the main blog

[lyrelyretheresmeninthathorse]

Crossed Wires

Summary: Reader is an IT tech and Spencer is a technophobe. Their paths are fated to cross.

A/N: This is a prequel to Bridge the Gap, linked below, but can be read as a stand alone! Please let me know what you think!

Bridge the Gap

Masterlist I Requests

The shrill and sudden ringing of the phone made you jump, so much so that you bashed your head on the desk you were currently crouched beneath. Abandoning the plug you had been attempting to find a spare outlet for, you clambered back to your feet and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

A tinny, nasal voice that you recognised but couldn’t quite place answered you brusquely; “one of the professors needs your help.”

“Really?” You asked, eyebrows raised as though she could see them. “It’s the first day of the semester.”

The woman sighed, “I know,” her voice dropped in volume as she spoke next and you had the distinct impression that she leaned closer to the phone as she spoke, “it’s a wonder they manage to get their pants on in the morning without help.”

You didn’t bother stifling the chortle of laughter that escaped you at that. Your closet of an office had space only for you, No would-be eavesdropper would bother to squeeze into the space just to hear you laughing at the alumni. Recovering yourself, you asked; “so-uh - what’s the problem?”

“Oh, I don’t know something about his printer I think.” There was a pause, and then; “it’s a new guy, Professor Reid? In…” you could hear fingers flying over a keyboard, “he’s in office 12C… the Criminal Science building.”

Eyebrows furrowing, attempting to mentally conjure a map of the campus, you nodded pointlessly. “Okay, I’ll head over now.”

“I’ll let him know to expect you,” she told you, before leaving you with a sarcastic “have fun.”

———————————————————————

Your internal map of the campus was a little less accurate than you would have hoped. In an embarrassing turn of events you were forced to awkwardly stop a student and ask for directions.

Ten minutes later than you would have liked, you found the office that you were looking for. For the sake of politeness, and because some of the older professors could be particularly pedantic about it, you lightly rapped your knuckles against the door before entering. “Um - hello?” You asked, awkwardly poking your head into the room.

A man, much younger than you had expected, turned sharply to face you. “Hi?” You blinked at him for a moment too long. In all honesty your brain had completely stalled. He was just… not what you were expecting at all; attractive, young, attractive, tall, attractive. You almost recovered yourself enough to talk but he soon shot a warm smile at you and your brain turned back to mush. “Can I help you?” He eventually prompted.

“Oh erm,” pulling yourself together, finally, you smoothed a hand over your clothes and answered with as much charm as you could muster; “I think I’m here to help you, actually.” The words came out a little more suggestive than you had intended but you enjoyed the immediate effect they seemed to produce.

His eyebrows raised, mouth fallen open as a nervous squeak escaped him, and you caught his eyes sweeping over your figure. “Oh?” Was all he managed to eke out before swallowing thickly.

“Your printer?” You offered.

“Oh! Oh, yes.” He straightened out his jacket as he nodded a little over-eagerly at you. “you- you’re here to help with the printer?”

Stepping a little further into the room, the door clicking softly shut behind you, you nodded. Normally, you would be a little more reserved with the professors. Waiting instead for them to invite you in, but Professor Reid’s awkward stuttering somehow put you at ease. “Yeah, that’s kinda my job.” You smiled plainly at him, and he returned the gesture in kind.

Pointing at you, he confirmed, “you’re the IT tech?”

“That’s me,” you affirmed, holding a hand out to him as you told him your name.

Placing his palms out before himself, he leaned back and away from your offered palm. “Oh, I don’t really shake hands.” His lips twisted almost apologetically, as he clasped his hands in front of himself. “It’s actually more hygienic to kiss.” Immediately his face flushed as he caught the innuendo too late and he rushed out a babbling explanation, “not that I- I didn’t mean-“

Feeling generous, you saved him with a wave of your hand. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

Sheepish, he nodded. From the twist of his lips you gathered that he was still internally chastising himself, but he eventually managed to introduce himself more appropriately. “I’m Dr Spencer Reid.”

For his sake, you breezed past this deliciously awkward introduction with a tone filled with professionalism. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Raising a brow, you looked to the computer tucked away, almost forgotten, in the corner. “What’s the problem?”

Eyes following yours and landing on the offending laptop, he gestured for you to move over to it. Following behind you, he explained. “I was trying to print out the handbook but… it’s not working.”

Leaning over his computer, you nodded with a crumpled brow. “That’s like a hundred pages, Dr Reid.” You looked back to him but he didn’t seem to get your point. “You know you don’t actually have to read all that, right? It’d take the whole day.”

Eyes averted to the floor he gave you a strange, almost cocky, little smirk, “I think I can manage it.”

The side of your lips twitched upwards as you gleaned some strange amusement from his words. He spoke them as though they were some inside joke with himself. It was oddly charming. From anyone else you likely would’ve condemned his tone to arrogance, but his demeanour was so open and strangely sweet that it was hard to tar him with such a brush. “Well,” you sighed, narrowing your eyes at the screen, “is there a reason you can’t just read it from here?”

You looked to him for a response and he visibly grimaced at the suggestion. “I prefer a more traditional medium.”

Raising an eyebrow, dissecting his words to find the truth, you smirked. “You and technology don’t get along, huh?”

Nodding confirmation with a laugh, he wryly replied; “we’re colleagues of necessity.”

You breathed a laugh, surprised by his quick wit but eager to experience more. “Okay,” you let out, leaning closer to the screen and immediately detecting the problem.

You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you had the decency to provide him his explanation first. Biting your lip, in an almost fruitless attempt to hide the amused smile pulling at your features, you turned back to face him.

His eyes widened at the sight of you. His gaze unsure whether to settle heavily on your bitten lip or respectfully on your eyes. In the end his gaze settled somewhere in the middle. A cough fell from him before he managed to ask; “what’s the problem?”

“How many times have you tried to print this?”

The corner of his eyes crinkling, he cryptically answered, “a few.”

You giggled helplessly, spurring an answering laughter from him that was interspersed with his continued questioning, “what did I do?”

Recovering yourself, you conspiratorially leaned in closer, whispering the answer to him. “You’ve sent them to print in Professor Friedman’s office. He’s a couple doors down.” A giggle interrupted your explanation, “so he’s probably got a hundred copies of that handbook printing out and no idea why.”

“Oh,” he gave, turning quickly to look at the door, as though Friedman himself were about to burst through demanding an explanation. “That’s not… ideal.”

“No,” you agreed. When you held his attention once more, you asked; “do you want me to show you how to do it right or… shall I just do it for you?”

His lips twisted and a husky laugh escaped him. That was answer enough.

“I’ll just do it for you.”

A few clicks later and his own printer had hummed into action, spitting out paper rather slowly. The pair of you watched the whirring machine for longer than was likely necessary. Every now and then it seemed Dr Reid was about to speak, face turned to you and lips parting, but each time his attempt stalled.

After the silence had stretched just a little too long, none of his attempts coming to fruition, you sighed and turned to him. Your tone was less than enthused. “Well, I guess I better get going.”

His eyebrows rose as though surprised at this turn of events where you were not able to loiter with him in his office all day. “Oh- of course…” he gestured to the door and kindly opened it for you, “I - uh-“ you were quite thrilled, really, at how flustered he was getting. This excitement dulled just slightly when he seemingly gave up on what he had been trying to say and settled instead on; “thank you.”

Stepping across the threshold of the door, you turned back to him. “Anytime, Dr Reid.”

“Spencer, call me Spencer.”

Grinning, sure a telling blush was painted over your cheeks, you affirmed. “Spencer it is.”

“There you are!” Came a booming voice from down the hall. Turning to look, your eyes widened at the sight of Professor Friedman barrelling down the hall towards you. “I’ve been calling your line for half an hour! My printer has been hijacked! It’s printing dozens of copies of some kind of handbook and it’s still going!“

Taking a deep breath, you nodded with a polite yet tight smile. “Of course, Friedman, I-“

Sternly, he interjected with an arrogant correction; “Professor Friedman, thank you.”

Spencer cut in, surprising both you and Friedman, before you could even think to apologise. “You know, I read an interesting article recently about individuals who obsess over the use of their proper titles. Especially within inappropriate social contexts,” the glint within his eye as he snuck his gaze over to meet yours was almost playful. “Apparently,” he prefaced dramatically, “the obsession with the formality is deeply rooted in a collection of physical, mental, and sexual inadequacies.”

You choked on your laugh, desperately trying to conceal your peals of laughter with unconvincing coughs. Professor Friedman said nothing, seemingly entirely blindsided and unsure how to even respond without seeming as though he were protesting a little too much against the subtle accusation.

Still fighting back your laughter, words coming out markedly more uneven than usual, you said; “That’s very interesting, Dr Reid.”

Smiling down at you, gaze filled with this secret victory the pair of you were sharing, he answered quickly. “Oh, please call me Spencer.” After a sly glance at Friedman beside him, who still looked as though he were picking through Spencer’s quick words in search of a viable response, he continued, “I’m not worried about formality.”

God, he was going to kill you.

Your face was burning hot with the effort of containing your laughter and you couldn’t even look Spencer in the eye anymore; the amused sparkle in his chocolate eyes surely enough to send you tipping over the edge into joyful hysteria.

“Well,” Friedman eventually let out, grimly, “I will wait for you in my office.” He nodded to you before sending a disdainful look of annoyance towards Spencer who, to his credit, did not seem affected in the slightest. “It was… interesting to meet you, Dr Reid.”

Spencer nodded in response, already turning to look at you as Friedman hurried away.

You couldn’t contain yourself anymore. Hurried hands pushed Spencer backwards and into his office, the door swinging shut behind you, and you entirely broke down into a fit of giggles.

You vaguely hoped the office door was enough to keep your raucous laughter from reaching Friedman’s ears but you weren’t especially concerned enough to stop. At one point you had successfully recovered yourself but, one shared glance with Spencer, and the both of you were sent spiralling once more into laughter.

Eventually, you managed to huff out; “is that- is that even true?”

Almost cheekily, he grinned with a shrug. “Not exactly.”

Straightening, having hunched over in the depths of your laughter, you wiped the tears from your eyes. “Oh god,” Spencer was still looking at you. Now that your laughter had subsided to a more reasonable level, you realised how strangely intense his attention upon you was; he was looking at you as though you were some fascinating specimen whose every move deserved his rapt attention. “That was so funny.” You eked out.

Eyes now focused on your shoes, feeling shy under his attention, you mused. “I’ve gotta go help him now, how am I supposed to look at him without laughing?”

He laughed breezily, “sorry.” Looking back up, you found his head ducked and his right hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, don’t be,” you assured lightly, a wave of your hand dismissing the apology, “that was amazing.”

He nodded, lips twisting as he shoved nervous hands into his pocket. “Good,” he told you, resolute. “I- uh- I hope to see you around?“

Hand settled on the silver door handle, ready to face Friedman with an extra spring in your step, you agreed. “Yeah, you too.”

As you walked away and down the hallway, following the sound of Friedman’s poor overworked printer and the aggrieved grumblings of the man himself, you found yourself hoping Spencer’s technology would fail him again soon.

As though the gods themselves were listening, or perhaps just because technology really did hate Spencer, the very next day you were called to fix his email.

[elysianslove]

shameful lust; suna rintarō

synopsis; he’s off limits in every way, but that only makes you want him more. based off of this, this, and this. the smut is inspired by my bunny anon’s birthday idea :) bunny, you know the one :)

pairings; brother’s bsf!suna rintarō x fem!reader

genre; porn with kind of plot lmfao

word count; 5.5k what the fuck??

trigger warning; age gap (not specified, & everyone’s 18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, humiliation, praise, mini panic attack, link for the lingerie (slight nsfw warning)

it started off innocent, as most things do. you were sixteen when you first felt the butterflies nestled deep in your stomach, the drop of your heart, the heat of your cheeks, only around him. you’d thought it was a natural reaction; after all, you’d known suna rintarō since, quite literally, forever, and you were a growing girl, hormones imbalanced and thoughts as confusing as ever. it was normal, completely ordinary to feel as nervous as you did whenever his hand so much brushed against yours, or whenever he’d barely glance your way to offer a small, teasing smile.

it meant nothing, of course. you were just a young girl, sixteen, desperate to lose yourself in some sort of fantasy. a silly crush on your brother’s best friend was nothing strange, and definitely inevitable.

it would go away.

you’re eighteen when the feelings don’t go away, and when they begin reshaping into more— impure thoughts. the more you see of him, the more hyperaware you grow of everything that he is. suddenly your eyes easily find the small strip of skin revealed when he stretches his arms up, and suddenly you can’t help but constantly think about the way he sits, legs spread so wide as if to... accommodate something. suddenly your thoughts always find their way back to the way he’d hugged you goodbye, arms squeezing you so tight to him, allowing you to feel every ridge and ripple of his muscles, and the way he had ruffled your hair and his hand, so large, so easily sinking into the strands— and you’re left wondering what else his fingers could do in your hair, to the rest of your body—

it’s bad. it’s really bad. every day you try and convince yourself it’s innocent, and every night you prove yourself wrong when you find yourself on your stomach, face buried in your pillow and teeth biting down on it, mouth dampening the cloth as your fingers rub harshly at your clit and sink into your dripping cunt— all with his name falling off your tongue as you heave and cry. every night you think about how much thicker his fingers are in comparison to yours, how much longer, how they’d feel inside of you, curling within you. you know he’s dexterous, insanely good with his hands. you’ve seen the way his fingers fly across a keyboard or tap urgently at a gaming console. you know it, and it in no way helps in calming your frustration.

it’s bad, of course, but you live with it. after all, he is in every way off limits. a lot older than you, and much more experienced, suna would have to lose his mind before he ever thinks of you the way you think of him. what would a girl like you have to offer a guy like him anyways? your shaky hands and clumsy mouth? your tight cunt that can barely fit two of your fingers? you’d only leave him unsatisfied, and leave yourself utterly humiliated.

worst of all, however, you can’t imagine how devastated, how betrayed, your brother would be if he’d caught you fooling around with his best friend.

so although you’re yearning to say fuck all and fuck him, you don’t, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest for you to do so. you continue to make due with what shirtless image of him or that time he slept over and went commando, waking up at the same time you had and his — his dick was hard— you could see—

fuck.

you need to grow up.

as you sit with your back to your headboard, your knees bent up and swinging slightly, two simple knock erupt on your bedroom door. it’s late afternoon, the sun’s brightness dimming slightly, casting your room in an orange glow. in all honesty, it’s soothing.

looking up from your phone momentarily, you call out for the person knocking to come in, your eyes returning to your screen once more.

“hey.”

at the sound of the awfully familiar voice, your head snaps back up and you lock your phone, looking up with newfound excitement at the man standing at your doorway. “hi,” you return with a smile, sitting up and crossing your legs.

suna smiles back, walking into your room with one hand tucked behind his back. “your brother said i’d find you here,” he explains, walking towards you.

you quirk a brow, curiously and amusingly smiling as you ask, “whatcha got there?”

he’s quiet for a moment as he walks over to your side of the bed, maneuvering in a way that doesn’t reveal what he has hidden behind him. you twist around on your bed, leaning on your knees to face him properly, and it’s just when you lift up slightly to settle comfortably that he leans down, bends over to get close enough to whisper, “happy birthday, pretty girl.” he gives you not another moment to process how close his face is — how close his lips are to yours — before the hand behind his back comes around between you.

tucked in his hand is a medium sized bag, not related to any sort of brand, so you assume it’s a simple bag he’d gotten from a convenience store. that would really only mean one thing— that he’s gotten you more than just one gift. you can’t see what’s in it since there are colorful papers stacked within it, obstructing your view, but you’re still flustered at the mere thought he’d even considered to buy you a gift. it’s not unusual; suna, every year on your birthday, has gotten you a gift, yet it’s usually more so a gag gift than anything. some inside joke of yours, maybe he’d pay for your dinner, things like that. never a full on, thought out gift.

“you didn’t have to,” you say, settling back down on your knees and hesitantly taking the bag from him.

he waves you off, disagreeing. “course i did; you’re nineteen now.”

you roll your eyes. “wouldn’t eighteen be more special?”

“fine,” he decides, playfully taking the bag from your grasp and pulling it to him. “guess i’ll just give this to someone else then— maybe your mom—“

“suna!”

at your reaction, he laughs boisterously, and against all odds, you find yourself smiling too. quickly, you reach out for the bag again, pulling it back to you.

“open it when you’re alone,” he disclaims, almost as if in warning.

warily, you eye the bag.

“sure.”

you try to be quieter when unboxing suna’s gift, but the paper’s scrunching is just so damn loud. after cursing it out, you finally rid the bag of its first layer of paper, and are met with a scented candle and some lotion. basic, expected. there‘s a card there too, and when you open it, there’s a note in his messy handwriting, reading out a simple happy birthday— and a good couple of yens too. money, a candle, lotion.

so basic.

there’s still more paper beneath, but you don’t expect it to be for anything except decoration, not for—

what the fuck.

what the fuck.

What The Fuck?

your two hands dip into the bag, reaching out for the final gift, grabbing it by its straps and—

holy shit, he got you lingerie.

it’s so— sheer? you don’t think an inch of you will be properly covered, even with the lingerie on. it’s properly transparent, with only the intricate lace designs to modestly cover you. when you dig into the bag, you find the panties to match the bra and— well, it’s pretty, you can’t lie. there are dark, almost flowerlike designs all over, and it’s a deep black, nearly blue or green. there’s also a garter belt, but there aren’t any stockings in the bag to attach to the clips. maybe he’d expected you to take care of that?— ah no, you stand corrected. there are stockings.

fuck, he thought of everything didn’t he?

but more importantly, what the fuck does all of this mean?

burying the lingerie deep inside the bag again, and making sure to cover it up with the paper, thoroughly, you place the other gifts and the card back in and on top, before putting it aside on your bed.

and now, to gather your fucking thoughts.

you had to text him to thank him for the gift, obviously. but there was no way he’d accidentally misplaced the lingerie there. it was deliberately placed, with the way it was folded and tucked neatly, underneath an extra layer of paper above and beneath it? yeah, definitely on purpose. but— why? had he taken notice of your feelings towards him? was this his way of making fun or... reassuring you they were mutual?

god, what the hell are you thinking.

snatching your phone from your bedside table, you check the time.

2:01 a.m.

okay, everyone‘s bound to be asleep by now. hopefully. you eye the bag, so cautiously one would assume there’s some sort of killing machine within it. you contemplate. shake your head. no. the gears twist. yes.

no.

yes. no. yes. no—

fuck it, it’s yours anyways, isn’t it?

you snatch it loudly, rushing off to lock your bedroom door, then rushing to close the blinds, tightly, surely, then rushing to turn the lights off and turning the small lamp by your bedside on instead. what else are you meant to do with lingerie other than, well, put it on? it’s rational, you think, obvious.

it’s fine.

stealing one last, deep breathe, you dump the contents of the bag again, and pick out the lingerie.

it fits.

it fits perfectly.

the bra is snug against your chest, pushing at your breasts but not digging in uncomfortably. your nipples peak through what‘s revealed of the mesh, and when they stand perky and hard, you blame it on the fact that you‘re half naked. the garter belt wraps tightly around your waist, not squeezing to the point of discomfort and pain, but not loose that it’s a nuisance, and the clips that hang from it are attached to a pair of stockings that stop mid thigh, squeezing at the flesh. finally, a pair of panties rest on your cups, cupping your ass perfectly. it too is sheer, and god— you can see so much of you.

is this— what he would‘ve wanted?

you can’t deny that you do look good. it shows your figure off appealingly, and coupled with some dark lipstick, your messy hair, and the slightest smudge to your day’s eyeliner— would— would he have wanted you like this? all dolled up for him?

is this what suna likes?

doubting the fact that you’ll ever have the courage to put this set on again, you grab at your phone, clearing the area before your mirror, then sitting down at the edge of your bed. might as well enjoy it while it lasts, shouldn’t you? posing in the mirror, you appreciate the way you look, the way the dim lighting complements the atmosphere, the way the piece hugs your body and shows you off. you look so good.

so good— for him.

reveling in this surge of confidence, you snap a good amount of pictures, posing differently in each of them, taking them at different angles. your camera roll overflows with them, and as you fall back on the bed, hair splayed out on the mattress, you smile proudly at the pictures.

do you look good enough for him to see?

the thought strikes you suddenly; it tickles at the pit of your stomach, makes your knees bend and your toes curl.

should you?

the messenger app is open at the text messages between you and him before you can think, a picture of you uploaded and ready to send.

should you?

you tuck your lower lip between your teeth, mulling it over anxiously.

no, you most definitely shouldn’t.

quickly, you swipe out of the messenger app, and onto safari. porn it is.

you should‘ve turned the ac on. fuck, it’s hot.

3:10 a.m. 45 minutes since you’d put the lingerie set on and had your mini photoshoot, ten minutes since you’d started masturbating. everything’s still in place except for the garter clips, which have snapped off of your stockings at some point in the past few minutes, but you pay it barely any mind as your legs spread wider, one hand dipped beneath your panties, the other pressing hard against your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not that you generally had a problem keeping down your noises. your home was constantly filled with people, and you’re almost always sexually frustrated at the most inconvenient times. this time, however, it’s different. it’s different because you’re wearing a lingerie set that suna picked out, that suna bought for you, that suna gave you himself. would he have wanted to watch you touch yourself like this, dressed up so pretty? or— would he have wanted to fuck you while—

shit, you’re gonna cum.

you let out a broken moan, bleeding into a desperate son, muffled barely your hand. your fingers fuck into your cunt faster, squelching lowly as you arch your back, pressing your palm harshly against your clit.

“ugh, hngh,” you whine, squeal, wrist aching. “fuck, rin— please—“

you’re so loud, shit, shit, shit.

beside you, your phone dings! loudly, alerting you of a message received, but you can’t stop, not when you’re so close. it dings again, and again, but you continue to ignore, chasing your own high so desperately, faster, faster, faster. the coil tightens, your body tenses, mind hazing over and eyes rolling back— so close, so fucking close.

“well aren’t you a doll.”

your eyes snap open, and you only manage one second to process who the fuck and what the fuck before your hips are trembling and twisting, and your legs are shaking so awfully as your back arches deep. the moment you hear his voice, so deep and clear, looming just by the edge of your bed where you lay spread, fucking yourself, you cum— and you’re convinced you have a humiliation kink. you didn’t cum because you’d simply been close— you came because you heard him catch you.

in your post orgasmic daze, you pant deeply, chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. your fingers pull back from your panties, falling to the bed, sticky and wet, while your other hand falls from from your mouth, drool and spit dripping from the corner of your lips.

“aw, you ruined the set.”

you sigh. “rin.” the way you say his name isn’t in a way that’s calling out for him, but neither are you scolding him nor brushing him off for teasing you. you’re just simply trying to process the fact that he’s here.

“i like it when you call me that,” he admits, and in a second he’s falling over you, hands bracing and steadying him beside your head, keeping himself hovering at a small distance. “why do you always insist on calling me suna?” he wonders, head tilting curiously.

blinking slowly, you breathe in, and out, and ask, “what are you doing here?”

above you, he shrugs. “you were the one that sent me those—”

immediately, you’re pushing him off you, sitting up all too quickly as you reach out for your phone. you shakily unlock it, typing in your password and opening the messenger app. he’s right— shit. you could’ve sworn you’d deleted the photo, because you’d explicitly decided just how stupid sending it would’ve been. 

well, look at you now. 

“that wasn’t— oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you stutter, turning your body towards him once more, but avoiding his gaze, your body, only barely having just cooled down, heating up once more. 

“oh?” he tests. “was it not meant for me?” 

“no, i—“ 

he’s smiling all too wide for him to not be getting off on your embarrassment. at the thought of that, your eyes unintentionally snap up to him, to his crotch, where beneath his sweats is a bulge, and god, it’s like all those nights ago where you’d seen his dick through his sweats and he’s big, he’s so big—

“just where do you think you’re looking?” he sneers, hand all of a sudden gripping your chin, tilting your head back up and forcing you to finally, for the first time, meet his eyes. they’re dark, almost sinister, as they narrowly glare at you, begging you for explanation. 

your mind’s no longer clouded over, all pleasure dissipating from your veins, pathetic humiliation replacing it. “i’m sorry,” you mewl, eyes tearing up at the look on his face. of course he was disgusted. just as your stupid crush on him was natural, so was his reaction. “i’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” you beg, lower lip wobbling. 

his grip on your chin tightens as he furrows his brows. “tell anyone?” he questions. “about what?” 

had he not— heard you? 

he says your name, firmly, deeply, in a way that has you stifling your sobs and biting your bottom lip to stop its quivering. patiently, you wait for him to speak, to say anything, until finally, he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” and your heart stops. “yeah?” he continues, his other hand reaching for your wrist, your hand, the same one that’s still sticky with the evidence of you. slowly, as he brings his lips closer to yours, fingers slipping so that he’s squishing your cheeks tightly, he leads your hand to his crotch, to where his dick is painfully hard beneath his sweats. your initial touch is featherlight, and he doesn’t fully press your hand to his clothed cock, but still, just the smallest, tiniest feel of him has the lust in your veins thrumming alive. “you think you’d look pretty—” he pauses, lips hovering by yours, eyes searching for any sign of hesitance or resistance, “sitting on my cock?” 

“i’m sorry,” you apologize again, but he swallows it by finally, finally, pressing his lips to yours. his lips are so soft, softer than you’d imagined and fantasized a thousand times over, as they press against yours, managing to pull the softest moan of surprise and pleasure from you. you’d forgotten, in your moment of shame, just how much you’d craved suna rintarō. just how often you thought about him, those same fingers gripping your chin to be buried inside of you, those pretty lips sucking on your tits and clit. “want you so bad,” you hiccup, kissing him back. “so bad.” 

he hums, amused, pulling back. licking his lips with a grin, as if tasting you, his hands leave you entirely, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he lifts it up, freeing himself of the piece of clothing. “don’t you think i know, sweetheart?” he teases, daringly. at the sight of your eyes widening, he nods with a dramatized serious expression, tutting as he adds, “so dirty, thinkin’ ‘bout me like that.” 

you whine again, hands lifting up to obstruct your face from his view as you fall back on the bed, body bouncing slightly. “stop,” you plead, not for him to pull back but for him to stop reminding you of just how wrong it is to feel the way you do. still, you spread your sticky thighs for him when he presses his hands to your knees, and you shiver at the feel of his fingers tickling at your skin. “i’m sorry.” 

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he reassures you, faux sweetness dripping like honey off his tongue. he leans in, carefully slow, hands following the curve of his body and yours. “i want you too.” he smiles mischievously, leaning close once more. “so bad,” he mimics you, lips hovering right above yours before he kisses you once more. you want to pinch his arm for outright mocking you, because really, how infuriating can he be? but it’s impossible to want to do anything but desire him in every possible way at the moment, especially when he presses himself harder against you, hips slotting between your legs and clothed cock brushing against your dripping panties. 

“rin,” you plead, hands clawing at his back, grasping at his shoulders. god, his skin is so warm. 

“yes?” he drawls, wet lips kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing easily to your jaw, and down to your neck. patiently, he waits for you to speak. 

with a trembling voice, you ask, “be quick. please.” 

a little stunned, suna pauses his ministrations at your neck, but it’s barely for a second. because moments later, he’s grinning sinisterly into the crook of your neck, sucking hotly as he replies, “sure thing.” 

you do want to take your time. you want him to stuff his face between your legs and sink his fingers so deep inside of you. you want him to force your mouth down on him, want to bury your face in your lap till you’re choking and gagging on his cock. you want him to take his time stretching you for his cock before he sinks inside of you, letting you feel every single inch and ridge of his dick until he bottoms out. you wish. you wish. 

but you’re desperate, and needy, and frustrated, and most of all, you’re not even sure if this is real. you’re scared to blink and have him disappear all of a sudden. you’re scared to wake up with soaked panties and no gift from suna, no suna above you, hard cock pressing against your cunt, only the same suna from all these past years, the same suna you pine over at a distance, wanting but never having. 

so you whimper so quietly, “be quick,” again, because he’s still too slow for your liking.

his fingers grasp the sides of your panties, pulling as quick as he can, sliding them down your thighs, watching as the cloth rolls at the urgency as it slides past your knees, your shins, your ankles, legs lifted high up. at the final loop around your right ankle, as suna flings it off, he kisses at your ankle, gripping it tightly and using it to spread your legs. 

as your legs spread, your pussy, soaking from both your past orgasm and this unbelievable build up, spreads too, glistening and dripping for him. his eyes easily fall to it, and, with that same glint in his eyes, he grins, and licks his lips again. “wish i could have a taste,” he admits to you, shuffling closer and bending your legs closer to your chest with one hand. the other hand frantically pushes at the hem of his sweatpants, tugging it low, beneath his balls. “god, i’d have you sit on my face for hours.” 

he’s going to kill you. 

he’s going to fucking kill you. 

at his words, your cunt pulsates and clenches tightly, hole glistening as you moan. you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does, somehow, and he laughs, too fucking loud. “you liked that, hm? bet you’d look so cute,” he spurs you on, and your entire body trembles. 

you wish to say something, to find the courage to belittle him, degrade him, remind him that if you’re in the wrong for wanting this then so is he, but it’s so hard to find your voice. it’s like he’s stupefied you completely, reduced you to this dumb, wordless, horny mess. god, fuck, it’s embarrassing. you can only watch with wide, tearful eyes and quivering lips and trembling legs as he spits on his hand and fists his cock, quickly, getting himself all nice and slick for you. his cock is— he’s so big, fuck. if you’d been shocked feeling him beneath his sweats, well, your entire body’s rigid with anticipation now. 

just as promised, suna’s quick. with one hand pressing and steadying firmly at your lower stomach, right by your hip, he guides his cock to your cunt with the other, wasting no time by pushing in. no way, no way, no fucking way. 

how is he fitting? 

“ease up,” he orders sharply, forcing more of himself inside of you.

in response, you bring both hands up to your mouth, clasping them tightly above your lips. you remaining quiet is as impossible as ever, with the way he’s stretching you so wide for him, so you press down harder with your hands and throw your head back as he sinks in deeper, and deeper. 

“aren’t a good girl?” he praises sweetly, his other hand mirroring the one on your hip. he watches as you lower your head again, lifting it up slightly to look between the two of you at where he’s fully bottomed out, buried deep inside of you. “feel good?” he wonders, even if he knows the answer. your head falls back again and you nod with your eyes squeezing shut. “feel so full, yeah?”  you’re glad he’s speaking for you, because you doubt you could find your voice at the moment, even if you tried. 

you nod again instead, urgently, just as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you, before pressing back in quickly, thrusting into you suddenly. the sight of him above you is better than anything your mind has ever made up, hands squeezing at your hips tightly, both ensuring you keep your legs spread for him and keeping himself up, steadying himself as he fucks into you. his arms bulge and the muscles in his abdomen tighten and tense with every thrust. his chest, so flushed red; his hair, a little sweaty, a little messy; his brows, furrowed deep in concentration; his lips, wet and red, so fucking red, his tongue jutting out slightly as he picks up the pace, as he thrusts faster, harder. 

and best of all: the noises he makes. he’s shameless, fucking into you with abandon, moaning and grunting and whining for you, like he’d been the one yearning, pining, and not you. and, you suppose, with the way he’s fucking into you right now, that there might’ve been some truth in his words, that he’s wanted you just as bad, that this wasn’t some pity fuck— poor little girl, his best friend’s sister, sending him lewd and inappropriate photos because she’s so desperate, she can’t help but lust after him, every single day. 

his hands squeeze even tighter and he grunts, gritting his teeth sharply. “fuck, m’already close,” he grunts, and somehow, that makes your heart swell, pride deepening. “cunt’s so fucking tight, shit.” you’re making him say those words, you’re going to make him cum so quick, it’s you. you. 

when his hands crawl up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading through the bra, your hands fall to his forearms, gripping so tightly and digging your nails into his skin. “please, please, please, cum inside,” you beg, trying to be as quiet as you can. “please rin, please.” 

the bed creaks with the effort and speed of his thrusts, your body bouncing as his cock fucks deep into your cunt. his head bows in, smooth hair swinging forward as he curses. “are you— hm..hngh—sure?” he asks, and you nod so rapidly you feel dizzy, arching your back as much as you can to get him deeper inside of you. he’s a mess of curses and pants as he fucks you even faster, one hand remaining at your breast, grasping tightly, the other lowering to your wet clit, rubbing furiously, messily, clumsily. 

no words are exchanged as he desperately circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers, squeezing and kneading your breast as he angles his hips, trying to get you to cum before he does. and just as as before, just as he’d caught you earlier, your body starts to tense up, shaking in anticipation as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

but there’s something— different. 

“rin!” you yell out, still half-whispering in an attempt to keep quiet. your eyes well up as you call out for him again, your orgasm unbearably close. “rin, feels weird— oh m—”

he only just barely manages to shove his hand against your face before you’re screaming, throat aching and scratching as you thrash beneath him. around his cock, your cunt spams and clenches down tightly, cum splashing and spraying all over his lower stomach and past his cock to his balls. you’re still thrashing, still squealing and screaming, and he’s spilling inside of you, filling you up impossibly, his cum splashing and dripping as it mixes with yours. 

“holy shit,” he breathlessly marvels, hips still rocking and grinding against yours as he helps the both of you ride out your highs. “you ever—“ he steals in a breath, steadying himself slightly, “—cum this hard?”

you’re sobbing, hiccuping and mewling and whining and crying, your body impossibly sensitive. tears stream freely down your cheeks as you sink into the mattress, feeling quite literally like jelly. slowly, suna pulls his cock out, trying not to get distracted by the way your cunt squeezes out some of his cum, and instead focuses on you, his hands cupping your cheeks softly. 

“hey, hey, eyes on me,” he encourages, kneeling above you as his thumbs brush at your tears. 

“m’sorry, ri— suna,” you heave, hands grasping his as your eyes water again, fresh tears joining ones that are yet to dry. 

“what for, sweet thing?” he asks gently. when you start to lift yourself up, he leans back, sitting on your bed, giving you space to get comfortable. he watches with worried eyes as you furiously rub at your eyes with your palms and the back of your hands, as the tears never stop flowing. shit, did he fuck up somehow? he calls your name again, cautiously reaching out for you. when you don’t reject his touch, his heart settles, just a little. “tell me what’s wrong?” he offers again, and you sniffle. 

“are you not disgusted?” you ask, voice wobbly and cracking. 

his brows furrow, and he cocks his head. “because you... squirted?”

you slap at his arm with a roll of your eyes. “no, suna.” 

“when did i lose my first name privileges?” he asks, dramatically shocked. again, you roll your eyes. well, at least the tears have ceased. softening slightly, suna sighs. he’s shit at this. he’s worse than shit at this. talking in general? awful. talking about his or someone else’s feelings? he’s sure the devil would be better comfort. still, he can’t just— leave you. he’s sure that would make things a thousand times worse.

and honestly, neither does he want to leave you. 

“i can’t read your mind, pretty girl,” he reminds you, and momentarily, you look away. 

until you inhale sharply, and meet his eyes again. “it’s okay...” you begin, trailing off as you attempt to gather your words, before continuing, “that i feel this way for you?” 

at your words, at the much needed clarity, suna sighs in relief. so that was it. “more than okay,” he promises you. 

you nod in understanding, before prodding further, “not weird?” 

he thinks it over, before answering. if he’s honest with himself, the most he’d felt with you was sexual attraction. he liked the way your tits bounced when you ran to greet him or the press of your ass against his crotch when you passed by him to get somewhere. he liked— he liked thinking about your body, your lips, your hands. it’s why he sent you that lingerie set, the one that sits so pretty on your body right now. not that he’d been expecting you to send him anything, and he’d even anticipated that you might feel disgusted, might throw it in his face and slap him too. but he knew you better. suna was observant. he knew more than he let on, more than anyone could imagine. if he hadn’t realized your eyes on him in the past years, he must be blind.

still, he’s not sure if it was ever more, or if it is more. but, he supposes, it’s not an unimaginable feat. he thinks that maybe, there is a chance. he likes you, sure; you make his belly twist and his heart jump. but is he going to risk leading you on? 

he doesn’t know. 

he settles for, “good weird.” 

your face is the definition of a question mark. “what the hell is good weird?” 

“your face is good weird,” he retorts. it’s a bad comeback, terrible actually, but his face is flushing a dark red, and he needs to get away. you’re flustering him and it’s pissing him off. 

“that’s so mean!” 

yeah, the devil would’ve been better comfort. he wasn’t around though, so he made sure suna had been sleeping over that night instead. 

worked in your favor didn’t it? 

end note; my godddddfhksfhbskjbsb ,,, sorry if you found mistakes this took me all day and im not assed to proofread <//3 but i hope you liked regardless!! 

[sunflowerdarlingx]

Show me what you like angel - RW (18+)

18+

Hello lovlies, I want to apologise for the lack of content, I’ve just not been in the right headspace. I’ve been working on this one for a while and finally found the motivation to finish it. Let me know what you think <3

Request: Can i request doing your first time with Ron and he's super stressed about it ?

Female Reader

Warnings: first time (talk of it hurting), fingering, a hand job, unprotected sex

MINORS DNI 

------------------------------- 

Ron sat at the bottom of y/n’s bed, left leg bouncing up and down while his hand lightly scratched at the right over his jeans. They had finally finished Hogwarts for their final year and the pair decided to spend the first two weeks of summer at y/n’s house since her parents were away. Y/n was currently in the bathroom, changing into something more ‘comfortable’ for the events that were to follow. Y/n and Ron had been together for about 5 months and had decided that tonight would be their first time. 

It may come as a surprise to hear that Ron is still very much a virgin. Yes, he had kissed girls but that was as far as it ever went. The pair had a conversation two weeks ago where they spoke in detail about their first time. They had both been ready for weeks but there was never a good time. 

Ron stood up and decided to light a few candles and charmed a few fairy lights to appear around the room. In his mind he replayed the conversations that he had with his older brother Fred. Last week, Ron found himself panicked about disappointing y/n, so he met Fred in Hogsmeade for some advice. Fred talked him through everything, particularly emphasising a need for foreplay and aftercare and also the need for communication. 

Ron had just finished adding a few more lights when he heard her door open. Y/n stood in the doorway, hands twirling her robe in her hands as she smiled shyly. Ron’s jaw dropped at the sight of her, she was breathtaking. A silky black robe was draped over her shoulders, a black bra pushed her tits up deliciously and black lacy underwear sat against her hips. 

“Bloody hell” he mumbled as his eyes lovingly gazed over her body, “You look hot” Ron blushed a deep red after he said that, “I..I mean you look, wow”. There were still no words to express just how perfect she looked. 

Y/n giggled, “not too bad yourself” she walked over to Ron and took his hands in hers, “do you really like it?” her beautiful eyes looked up to his, although she noticed his eyes looked darker than normal. 

“Love it” he pressed his lips to her forehead, “‘nd I love you�� his crooked smile made her melt as he moved in for a proper kiss. 

“Love you too” y/n mumbled back, Ron’s lips felt dry against her soft ones but that was nothing new. Ron moved his hands to her waist and squeezed lightly, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Rons tongue slipped past her lips as he moved one hand up to rest against her cheek, caressing it lovingly before pulling away. His hand enveloped hers and he guided her over to the bed. Pulling y/n into his lap, Ron wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck briefly before his lips met hers once more in a sloppy kiss. 

“Can we take our clothes off?” she mumbled against his lips as Rons hands moved from her waist to rest on her bum. 

“Do you want that?” his hands traced her hips, stomach, up to her face and caressed her cheeks “we will do whatever you’re comfortable doing angel” 

“Yes please” she smiled sweetly and shakily moved her hands to his shirt, fumbling with the little buttons. 

Ron placed a loving kiss on her head before kissing her cheek and then her nose, “stop it Ron” the girl giggled “I’m trying to concentrate”. A loving smile graced Rons features as he let out a laugh at his girlfriend. 

His hand caught both of hers while his other moved to her chin, tilting her head back slightly, “how about, I finish getting this off and you take off this pretty robe?” 

y/n nodded bashfully and slipped the robe off of her shoulders, eyes moving to trail down Ron's chest, admiring the constellation of freckles that added warmth to his pale chest. She watched the way his muscles flexed as he pushed the shirt behind him. 

His crooked smile made her melt as he leaned in to kiss her shoulder, “you look incredible angel”, y/n leaned in, her lips lightly brushing his as she thanked him. 

Ron closed the gap, tongue found its way into her mouth and he ran his hands up her back, goosebumps decorating her skin as his cold hands met her warm skin. “Take it off Ron” she panted as their lips disconnected. 

Rough hands made quick work of unhooking her bra, “I’m impressed” she teased as she let the bra drop into her lap, Ron picked up the lacey fabric and tossed it to the side. 

Flipping them over, Ron ran his hands up her stomach to her chest, toying slightly with her nipples. A small whine left y/n’s lips as she arched her back, Ron’s lips kissing down her chest. “Can I take these off angel?” his index finger lightly tracing under her lacy underwear. 

“Please” her hips bucked involuntarily as he ran his hands up her thighs. His fingers hooked around the soft material and lightly tugged them down her legs. Ron took in a sharp breath at the sight of her, he had never felt luckier. 

Y/n opened her legs shyly for him and Ron's eyes met hers, a smirk crossing his features as he tested the waters. He ran his index finger through her folds, her juices coating his fingers.

In all honesty, Ron wasn’t too sure what he should do next. Y/n wanted him closely and noticed his slightly furrowed brow. She nervously trailed her hand down her body, her hand lightly holding his. Ron smiled sweetly up at her, “S..show me what you like angel”. 

It was no secret that y/n had touched herself before, Ron was desperate to make her feel good so he figured now was a good time to ask her what she liked. 

Y/n helped him find her sensitive bundle of nerves, a light moan leaving her lips at the contact, “mhm just like that” her eyelids fluttered as she looked at Ron. After a moment she went to tell Ron that he could, well, finger her but instead a gasp left her lips. 

Rons finger teased her folds once again before he slipped a finger into her tight hole, he paused at her gasp “shit, sorry”. 

Y/n quickly wrapped her hand around his wrist before he tried to pull his hand away, “i..it’s okay, felt good” she blushed as his smirk once again took over his face. Ron fingered her slowly, adding in a second finger and testing the different movements. He curled his fingers slightly, earning him a moan from the girl below him so he repeated the actions, using his thumb to circle her clit. His confidence quickly growing.

Her walls fluttered and clenched around his fingers, “‘m close Ron, p..please don’t stop” her chest was rising and falling fast, her hands toying with her nipples as he finger fucked her. 

“Oh yeah? Cum on my fingers then angel, be a good girl”, y/n lost it at his words, his slight praise pushing her over the edge as her orgasm washed over her. Her eyes rolled back while mumbled “fucks” left her mouth as her hips bucked slightly.

Ron watched in awe as her orgasm washed over her, his trousers now extremely tight. “Bloody hell” he muttered as the girl in front of him opened her eyes, slowly calming down. He crawled back up the bed, positioning himself in between her legs, placing a soft kiss against her forehead.

“You’re so sexy” he mumbled as he placed a kiss to her lips, y/n smiled cheekily up at him before running her hands down his chest. She pushed Ron so he sat beside her and moved to straddle his waist. 

A groan emitted from the back of Ron's throat as her bare pussy rested on top of his clothed cock. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, while his gripped at her bare arse. 

“Felt so good with your fingers inside me” she moaned slightly into his ear as she grinded her hips against his. Ron bit his lip, his head turning slightly as y/n trailed kisses down his neck. 

“How about we take these off?” y/n wrapped her fingers around his belt loops, “wanna return the favour” she kissed along his jaw to his lips. 

Ron nodded goofily and flipped them so he could stand to push them down his legs. His lips met hers again while her hand moved to wrap around his cock, quickly separating their kiss to lick across her hand before pumping his length as their kiss got more heated. 

He wasn't used to being touched by someone else, his release quickly approaching from the excitement of the situation. Ron pulled back from the kiss, his hand wrapping around hers to stop the movements. 

Y/n’s eyes widened “d..did I do something wrong?” her other hand came up to his cheek and softly traced the stubble. 

“Course you didn’t” he pecked her lips, “It’s just, I won’t last long if you keep doing that” he almost turned as red as his hair, feeling slightly embarrassed to admit that he was that close to cumming. 

y/n shook her head and leaned up to kiss him, “are you going to fuck me Ron?”. 

Her words shocked him, “do you want me to?”. She smiled cheekily up at him and nodded her head. 

Ron looked down at her naked body, her legs moving to wrap around his waist as he brought his hand up to his lips, spitting onto his hand before running it along his shaft. 

He lined himself up at her entrance, his other hand holding hers beside her forehead. “Are you sure?” his eyes looked deep into hers, searching for any change in emotion. 

“I’m sure Ron” her hand tugged him down to kiss her, “promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much”. 

He nodded his head before guiding his tip into her entrance. Ron was a lot bigger than y/n had anticipated but the stretch felt incredible. He eased his way in, constantly checking to see if she was okay. Once he bottomed out, he rested for a moment, allowing her to get used to the feeling of being so full. 

A small tear escaped her eyes but she made sure Ron stayed inside of her, she was loving how close they were. “You can move Ron” she placed a kiss to his neck as he slowly thrusted his hips into hers. 

“Bloody hell...so fucking tight” he groaned his head moved to rest inbetween her shoulder and neck, his lips sucking the delicate skin. 

“Mhmm, feels so good Ron, so big” she whined as she gripped at his hand, her other hand resting on his shoulder. 

The moment was slow…passionate...loving....perfect. 

Ron could feel her walls fluttering around his cock, just like around his fingers. He moved his hand from her waist, using his other arm to hold him up, his thumb moving to rub lazy circles on her clit. 

“Please don't stop Ron” y/n moaned over and over as her high got closer and closer. 

“Getting close angel, gonna cum” Ron groaned, his hips stuttering slightly. 

“C..cum inside me” y/n’s breathing was ragged as she reached her high, “I’m cumming” her high pitched moans pushed Ron over the edge, his cum painting her tight cunt. 

They lay there for a moment, Ron’s hands rubbing her waist comfortingly while he placed soft kisses to her neck, cheek and lips. 

“I love you so much” he placed his lips to hers soflyy before pulling out, 

“I love you too” y/n snuggled into his side as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“What about a bath? And then we can watch one of those movies you like?” Ron kissed her head before sitting up. 

“Sounds perfect” y/n moved to stand but her legs felt like jelly. 

Rons hands gripped her waist as a cocky smirk took over his features. “Guess i did a good job?” 

“I definitely can’t complain” she giggled lightly “now help me to the bathroom”. 

Ron moved to carry her to the bathroom, “oh and snacks, can we get snacks to babe?” he sat her on the counter as he started to fill the bath. 

“Yes Ronald” she laughed as he turned to playfully glare at him for calling him  by his proper name.

-----------------------

MASTERLIST 

RON MASTERLIST

Tagging: @asimpfortheweasleys @gxtitobxby @pandaxnienke

Please click here to join my taglist <3

[artificialdaydreamer]

How to Say "I Love You"

Emotions are hard to understand, conveying how one feels to the person they love is even harder.

-

Jon had never been good at expressing his emotions. Growing up he mostly absorbed their descriptions from books, how a character was excited for something to happen, how another was jealous of someone else. The feeling he found hardest to comprehend was love. How was it possible to be so completely devoted to another person that it shifted the way you felt about everything? He loved his parents, even now that they were gone. He loved his grandmother, but he got the feeling that the type of love written about in books was different from the emotions he was actually experiencing.

When he started dating Georgie, something he’d entirely misinterpreted when it had first happened, Jon wasn’t sure what the emotions he felt were. Was the yearning to be close to her love? The happiness to have someone he could talk with about inconsequential things? Then again, if what he felt wasn’t love, then what was? Eventually Georgie came to him, told him that while she liked Jon as a friend she didn’t think their relationship was working out. They’d broken up without much fanfare and going from dating to friends didn’t really change how they interacted with each other.

As he watched Martin sleep, his coppery curls catching the light of the rising sun, his face close enough to Jon’s that it was possible to count every freckle, Jon thought he might finally have an answer. He loved Martin, that was the only explanation for why his heart clenched whenever Martin smiled, why his cheeks flushed and his palms started to sweat from the smallest things. This was what people talked about in those books, what they yearned for with such intensity, wasn’t it?

When had he started feeling like this? When had Jon’s feelings for Martin turned to love? Was it when he’d gone into the Lonely? When Martin had started working for Peter Lukas and Jon was no longer able to see him? Earlier? How long had he loved Martin and just not realized it?

Jon lay there, thinking back to their interactions over the years. Next to him Martin started to stir, blue eyes blinking open slowly. “Morning.” Martin said with a smile.

“Good morning.” Jon tried to keep his voice from shaking as his heart pounded in time with his thoughts. I love you, I love you, I love you.

From then on it was hard to not feel overwhelmed by the love, like a wave crashing over him. Jon would be in the middle of a sentence before getting distracted by Martin, how beautiful he was, his laugh. I love you, I love you, I love you. How did people deal with these emotions?

He started to use actions instead of the words he could not say. Making sure they had enough of Martin’s favorite tea in the safehouse. I love you, I love you, I love you. Offering to cook breakfast so Martin could stay in bed a bit longer. I love you, I love you, I love you. Letting his fingers linger a bit longer than was necessary whenever they touched. I love you, I love you, I love you.

They’d decided to take a walk into town, grab some groceries, and stretch their legs, passing the field full of cows Martin stopped and cooed over them. He’d gotten out his phone to take pictures and the moment was so... normal compared to everything they’d been through that Jon started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Martin had asked, tearing his eyes from the cows to look at Jon in confusion.

“Nothing,” Jon took a breath, trying to burn this moment into his memory. “I just love you so much.”

There was a moment of silence where Martin just stared at him, his freckled face looking even redder thanks to the glow of the setting sun. “Wait... What?”

For a heartbeat Jon wondered if he’d said the wrong thing, although he hadn’t even meant to say it at all. He couldn’t help but question if Martin’s confession of “I really loved you” meant that those feelings were gone. Had he been the only one who worried about just what the emotions flooding through his veins meant? Was he just imagining that Martin felt the same way?

“I- I’m sorry... I didn’t mean-” Jon was floundering now, scrambling for something to say to make the situation right again. “If you don’t- I’m sorry.”

“You... Do you mean that?” Martin’s cheeks were practically scarlet, his phone now dangling precariously in one hand.

“I... Yes?” Despite the fact Jon had already come to terms with his feelings, had already said the words aloud, it felt like an entirely different thing to answer when his thoughts were in such turmoil. He didn’t know how to respond in a way that wouldn’t sound selfish, asking for affection he knew in his heart he didn’t deserve. Even if Martin did still like him there wasn’t anything that Jon could do to atone for the thing’s he had said, the things he had done, the person he’d been to have treated Martin so terribly. It was ironic, that at the time he’d swatted away such affection yet now he craved it as though he were an addict suffering from withdrawal. As though he’d been living underground and now that he’d seen sunlight he couldn’t get enough.

The expression on Martin’s face was hard to understand. Was it sadness? Pity? The books Jon had read as a child had talked about brows furrowing, lips being bitten, eyes not being met, but those individual descriptions could apply to so many emotions and Jon didn’t know what it was Martin might be feeling. It was all Jon could do to not scrunch his eyes up as Martin took a tentative step closer, then another, bridging the gap between them and effectively forcing all the air from Jon’s lungs. Then he’d swept Jon up in his arms, Jon’s face nestling into the crook of his neck. It was so warm and comfortable... It felt like Jon belonged there.

“S-sorry...” Martin gasped as they broke apart, his face still red as he seemed to examine Jon for some sort of reaction. “I should have asked first, but I- Are you okay?”

In all honesty Jon was not okay. His brain was attempting to sort out just what he was feeling, synapses firing and crossing out things like anger and disgust with only his limited knowledge of emotions to go off of. Again, the words and feeling threatened to overwhelm him with the constant pounding of I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Jon?” Martin waved a hand in front of his face and it was a real effort for Jon to pull himself out of his thoughts enough to meet Martin’s gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no... I just... I wasn’t expecting- I didn’t know if-”

“Wait... Jon, did you not think I felt the same?” Martin’s eyes were wide, reflecting the setting sun.

“I, I’m not sure.” He’d spent so much time absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t actually thought of what might happen if he confessed. He hadn’t even thought about confessing. Jon realized that he’d somehow become content with just loving Martin and not telling him. He’d convinced himself that Martin was better off without him, and that there wasn’t a point in confessing.

“Jon, I’ve loved you for the past two years.” Martin’s voice was soft, his cheeks still flushed as he stared at Jon.

“What?” Jon squawked, taking a step back in surprise. Martin reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand in his own, it was so warm, so comforting.

“Well, not exactly two years...” Martin ran his free hand through his coppery curls. “Since the thing with Prentiss, when you let me stay in the Archives...”

Jon remembered those long nights they’d spent together after Martin had started living in the document storage room. At first Jon had found Martin’s presence kind of annoying, it was impossible to get some time by himself. Then he’d realized what was going on, although he couldn’t explain just how he’d known.

Martin didn’t want to be alone.

While he’d admitted during his statement that boredom had been the thing that had been the hardest to deal with, Jon suspected loneliness had also plagued him. Cut off from everyone, no internet, no phone, and it wasn’t like he could talk to Jane Prentiss. It certainly explained why Martin felt the need to check on Jon every half hour.

Once he’d realized why Martin was acting like a concerned parent he made an effort to take more breaks so they could talk. At first it had been hard to find topics for discussion, as Jon was as good with small talk as he was with emotions, but bringing up the Admiral had certainly broken the ice. After that Jon found it easier to connect with Martin, it was still somewhat awkward, but he certainly made an effort. Jon had also ended up staying in the Archives overnight a handful of times as well, partially because he had work to do and partially to keep Martin company.

It had been those nights where they’d started to connect, going out to eat so they could both eat a decent meal, talking about random things to pass the time while they struggled to fall asleep. Jon had started to get a sense of who Martin was, underneath the jumpers and tea. He was earnest and always tried his best to do whatever task Jon set for him, no matter how absurd it was. He also had a mischievous side to him and had no problem joining Tim in his pranks, although Martin was much better at keeping the pranks a secret.

It felt strange, getting to know a person through whispered conversations, over tea breaks, or at a cafe. Jon was never good with friendships, never good at telling what people wanted from him, so he’d ended up pushing everyone away. After his encounter with Mr. Spider he only became more withdrawn, survivor’s guilt eating him up inside. Martin wasn’t like the others though. Despite the fact that Jon was horrible at communicating, horrible at deciphering what emotions anyone might be feeling at any given time, Martin didn’t seem to care. He seemed to be genuinely happy to spend time with Jon, which was just as foreign a concept.

Now, despite everything that had happened in the past few years, Martin had stayed with him. An anchor in the churning waves that threatened to wash him away from everything he knew and cared about. Jon loved him for that. “I think that’s when I started to fall for you too. I didn’t- I didn’t realize at the time...”

“Oh, I definitely didn’t realize either.” Martin’s cheeks were slightly less flushed than they had been. “I think I realized it when- this is going to sound crazy...”

“You realized it when, Martin?” Jon couldn’t help but ask, smiling at the flustered look on Martin’s face.

“It... It was when I told you about lying on my CV.” Martin sighed, not daring to meet Jon’s gaze. “You, you were so mad at first but after I told you... You just started laughing and I remember looking at you and thinking ‘really? This is the man I fell in love with?’ Thankfully Tim... Tim was too distracted by everything else going on to pay attention to my hopeless crush.”

“Not so hopeless.” Jon squeezed Martin’s hand. “I knew how much I cared about you when I woke up in the hospital after my coma. Georgie was there, and I remember being sad because it was you I wanted to see.” It felt strange to say the words aloud, as though he was only understanding what had happened. He’d been thinking about it so much over the past few weeks, since he’d realized that he loved Martin, but it took saying the words aloud for him to notice. “It was funny, the months that followed, I thought it was a fitting punishment for how I’d treated you. Wanting to be close to someone and yet unable to do so. I knew I loved you a few days after we arrived here.”

“Is that why you were acting so weird?”

“Look, I... I’m not the best with emotions. I don’t get them, I don’t understand how I feel half the time. With other people it’s even harder, trying to piece together how they’re feeling based on their expression or the tone of their voice...” Since he was still holding Martin’s hand Jon couldn’t cross his arms defensively over his chest, so he settled for putting his free hand in his pocket. “This is the first time I’ve ever... I’ve ever felt something so intensely. I didn’t know what to do, how to act, now that I knew I loved you.”

“I get it, emotions are hard. Can I help?” Martin asked, his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Sure? I guess so?”

“How did you feel when I told you that I loved you?”

Jon had to think about it, he’d been so overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions that he wasn’t sure what any of them had been. “I was... I think I was happy.”

“You think?”

“I was happy, alright?” Jon huffed. “I was also shocked, and confused... Mostly I was happy, because I loved you so much.”

“Alright, that’s good to know.” Martin took a step closer, still smiling. “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

The answer came easier this time. “Happy. I’d feel happy.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” Jon didn’t know what to expect from Martin kissing him. He’d kissed Georgie and while it hadn’t been unpleasant he hadn’t gotten anything from the experience. This time however, Jon could taste the remnants of whatever chapstick Martin had used, strawberry maybe? He felt how warm Martin’s lips were, despite the cold day, their heat bleeding into him. He wrapped his arms around Martin and pulled them closer, trying to memorize everything as it happened. Martin’s scent, the wool of his jumper, how fast both their hearts were beating. In his head Jon was panicking. He didn’t know what to do, or if what he was doing was the right thing to do. He attempted to understand what the emotions he felt were: happiness... amazement... and love. So much love. Was love even an emotion? He didn’t know, but it certainly overwhelmed his senses.

When they broke apart Martin was smiling and, more surprisingly, Jon was smiling back. “Let’s take it one day at a time, alright? We can work out what you might be feeling together.”

“I- I’d like that.”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words still rattled around in his mind, but for once they didn’t worry him. Jon might not understand love, or emotions, or why the characters in his books had behaved a certain way, but it didn’t matter. Martin loved him back, and that was more than enough for him.

-

I've been sitting on this fic for a year due to some personal issues, on a related note this is not betaed, I apologize for any mistakes there might be

[whitexwingedxdoves]

wretched heart    [request]

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Warnings: Language Summary: Despite ending things with Daryl, you still can’t seem to let go of him. (loosely inspired by Happier by Olivia Rodrigo) A/N: Requested by @srhxpci​ (angst with a happy ending 😊 ) I hope you enjoy. Tags: @chloe-skywalker​ @browneyes528​ Italics = Flashbacks.

-

Your heart seemed to break into a million pieces as you walked away from Daryl, after everything that had happened with Negan and now with the loss of Rick you weren’t prepared to lose Daryl Dixon. You clawed at your chest, hoping it would allow you to breathe but it remained stuck as you left the archer there in the middle of the forest. You had never loved someone so deeply before and it scared you, it scared you to the point of running and hiding – you told him it wasn’t safe for them anymore and that even though it wasn’t your time now, it will be one day and you wholeheartedly believed it. The idea that the world will be well enough one day that you could get back your Daryl was the only thing that allowed you to get out of bed in the morning.

Thing’s got too much for you after you and Daryl went your separate ways and therefore you decided that you needed to venture out on your own for a while, perhaps look for Rick’s body or find out where Anne had disappeared. You didn’t have a set objective but you knew you needed the time to yourself. Tara tried to argue it was too dangerous for you to be on your own but failed to take into account the amount of time you had already spent alone out in the woods before meeting the group. Your trip didn’t provide much new information but you felt you had successfully cleared your mind enough to return back to Hilltop. You had been gone for maybe a month or two, you didn’t really keep track of the time but you didn’t think it could have been longer than that.

Once you reached the gate’s it didn’t take long for them to open, the guards seemed more than happy about your return, you gave your horse a stroke, thanking it for returning you back home safe before trotting past the gates. You watched as a few people gathered as you came to a stop, you looked around, happy to be home until your eyes landed on a far to familiar bike. A lump formed in your throat as you tried to redirect your attention, finally pushing yourself to get off the horse. You managed to send faux smiles at everyone who welcomed you home, allowing someone to take your horse to the stable. You looked around at the small crowd of people before returning your attention to Alden who offered you a warm hug. You pulled away and let your hand land on his shoulder. “Where’s Jesus?” your question seemed to strike unwell with Alden, his head dropped slightly before meeting with your gaze.

“He- erm” he struggled to pull together a sentence attempting to keep you updated on the situation at Hilltop, you instantly wished you were back out in the woods blissfully ignorant to the death of your friend. A small tear rolled down your face but you nodded towards the man, acknowledging his words.

-

You spent the rest of your day in your room, with the news on Jesus and seeing Daryl’s bike you figured that anything beyond your four walls weren’t worth the hassle. No one bothered you all day and you were grateful for that, you cleaned yourself up and got familiar with the comfort of your mattress again. When the sun started to set, you thought you needed to stop moping around, show your face even if its just for a few minutes. Thankfully on your travels you came across a half empty crate of alcohol, a bottle of rum seemed fitting for the situation so you grabbed it by the neck and made your way outside to mingle.

Fires had already started and you seemed to slip into the crowd of people unnoticed, everyone seemed to be in their own little groups or wandering around you unscrewed the cap of the rum and allowed the brown liquid to pour down your throat. You found a quiet spot just off from everyone else but it gave you the perfect view of everyone gathered there that night. Your eyes wandered from person to person until they seemed to freeze. Daryl Dixon. Your heart seemed to crawl up your throat as you watched the man fiddle with his fingers, attempting to master a sign but you didn’t pay much attention to that, instead you admired the way he had aged since you last saw him. Your mind flashing images of a younger archer and you came to the conclusion that he aged perfectly well, you’d giggle to yourself thinking about how he’d always be scared of the age gap you had even though no one else really noticed it nor did they care.

You noticed his smile and then you noticed who he gave it to, you’d never seen her before but you couldn’t disregard her beauty or the way her eyes seemed to shine as she laughed at Daryl’s attempts to communicate with her with his hands. Your heart dropped, it felt like it had completely left your body as you watched the two flirt with each other, your eyes welled up whenever she touched his arms all you could think was how they were your arms and not hers. So caught up with your blind jealousy, you almost didn’t notice that Daryl was now staring right back at you, it made you stumble a little but you shot him a smile before your eyes left him, doing anything you could to keep the tears from leaving your eyes.

The alcohol seemed to help loosen the lump in your throat as you chugged down as much rum as you possibly could before it made you feel sick “Hey” you’d know that gravelly voice anywhere, it sent goose bumps up your arms as you lowered the bottle back to you side, clearing your throat as you looked to your side. Your heart seemed to race at the sight of the archer who stood close by you

“Hey” your voice was much softer as your eyes landed on his shoulders, not brave enough to look into his eyes just yet. The tension could have been cut with a blunt knife, you kicked loose stones under your feet as the southerner struggled to think up a conversation. “How ya been?” he broke the silence finally with a question he genuinely cared to know, he watched you closely as you scoffed at his words. “Fine” despite your short temper, you allowed yourself to look into Daryl’s eyes now sending him a faux smile. “Whatta bout you? Saw you getting on nicely with that girl over there, what’s her name?” you hated how bitter you sounded in that moment but it seemed the alcohol had taken over your entire attitude failing to incorporate a filter. “Connie” Daryl muttered back at you, watching you take yet another sip of your poison. Your eyes widened now you had a name for her face, licking the access rum from your lips. “She’s pretty” the air fell silent around you both now, you tried to fight every urge to shout and scream that he should be with you and not her.

Eventually you couldn’t hold your tongue anymore, you had far too much liquid confidence supporting your toxic words to even think straight anymore “Does this mean you forgot about me?” despite your intentions your words fell soft as you stared into the crowd of people, your leg shaking a little as you awaited his response but you never got one, instead he just stared at you in disbelief “I always thought that one day we’d get back together you know but I can see that’s not on you agenda” you spat at the man, the anger becoming more apparent with every word. Daryl grunted at your words, his scowl creasing his features. “Na, ya the one who ended shit!” he became extra expressive with his movements, his finger pointing in your direction as he paced back and forth. “because it wasn’t safe!” you shouted back in his direction, your face mimicking his “You know what it’s like now as soon as you’re even slightly happy, the thing you love the most is taken from you without warning. I’ve lost too much, I couldn’t lose you too!`` At some point you decided to take a softer approach with your honesty taking a deep breath when you finally split your truth.

The moment fell quiet once more, a tear created a track on your face as you turned away from him you crossed your arms keeping a firm hold on the bottle you babysat all night. “I'm happy you found Connie, you deserve it.” You peeked over your shoulder so that the archer could hear you “I just don’t think I could ever be as happy as I was when I was with you” and with those words you left him there as you made your way back to your room.

When the door closed behind you, you found yourself pressed against the wall beside it, trying your hardest to suppress the tears your eyes held onto. You placed the glass bottle on top of your dresser and attempted to ease your breathing and slow the hard heavy beating of your heart. It seemed to stop completely when you heard someone’s knuckles brush against your door, you stood perfectly still for a moment before you reached for the knob. You slowly pulled it open revealing Daryl stood on the other side, you stared up at him in silence and took in his posture, he seemed a little out of breath, like he had been running which only confused you more. “Me an Connie are jus friends' ' he panted, taking a couple of steps so that he was now fully in your room. You couldn’t deny that your heart seemed to burst with joy at the news but now you were just left completely embarrassed by your outburst. “Ya the only girl for me” you allowed a small chuckle to pass your lips but you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him, pushing at the back of his neck with your hands to pull him into a soft, sweet kiss. You tried to hide the moan that surfaced as his hands cradled your hips. You were completely weak at his touch, god had you missed the way this felt.

He pulled away slowly, taking in the smile that stretched across your face, allowing a small smile of his own to pierce his stern features “Ya taste like a bar” “I'm sorry!” you winced attempting to pull away from the redneck but he didn’t allow you, he kept you close and pulled you in tighter when you attempted to leave his grasp.

“Na, I like it”

[enthusiasticharry]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓   |    𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 24.0k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : in all honesty, i can’t believe that this day has come. the last part of checkmate. i would just like to thank everyone who has given this fic all of the love over the past three months and supported me through the trials and tribulations of writing it. i hope that you have all loved this fic and chessrry as much as i have, words really can’t explain it. please let me know if you’ve enjoyed reading! 

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sexual content, explicit language and sadness because it’s the end of the chessrry universe. 

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐕𝐈 here

The light slipped through the gap in the curtains, the early morning light dancing over the naked skin of the two bodies that laid in the bed. It wasn’t the first time the morning light had seen the two of them this way, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. YN’s head rest on the naked skin of Harry’s chest, her leg slipped between the two of his as his fingertips softly run over the skin of her bare arm. The duvet that should be there to preserve the heat between the two of them rested just to the small of her back, covering up the majority of their modesty whilst they laid there, without a care in the world other than each other. The room was theirs, and this time together was there and nothing else mattered apart from each other and the feelings they had for each other. 

YN lifted her head up so that she was looking directly at him, tilting her head to the side. She couldn’t help but lean forward and place her lips on his, a small grin on each of their lips. 

“Have you had many girlfriends?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask, but she was curious — and curiosity sometimes got the better of her, “You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to, you can.” 

Harry studied her intently for a while, looking at her as if she’s got three heads for a second before seemingly snapping out of it, “Why do you want to know that?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just curious.” 

“Uh.” He lifts one of his hands over his face, rubbing it slightly before looking at him, “I’ve had a few, nothing serious.” 

“Well.” She bites her lip to suppress the smile that threatens to cross her lips, “Do you want one? A serious one?” 

He pulls away slightly and looks at her, his lips parted in shock, “Are you asking to be my girlfriend?” 

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” 

He grins at her, and she giggles at the excitement that falls over his face, “Of course I do.” 

“Then I’ll be your girlfriend.” 

He tilts his head and looks at her, “Does that mean we’re officially a couple?” 

“I think it does.” They share a kiss, a small one that caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, something that is very familiar to YN when she’s in Harry’s presence. 

YN and Harry had flown home from Paris the day after the final, and they hadn’t been without each other since that day. It was unusual, to say the least, for YN to feel so strongly for someone in such a small space of time, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. YN loved Harry, and she loved being around him and it only made sense that she would want to spend all of her time with him and near him. He hadn’t complained about it, and it had been a week now so YN reckoned that he felt the same way. If he didn’t, he certainly was a good actor. 

As much as YN hated to admit it, laying in bed with Harry and just being around him in general made up to be some of YN’s favourite times every in her life. The watched the day meet the night together, the days pass by and mould into new ones, all whilst they were together. Nothing could hurt them as long as they were together, and YN was going to live by that. 

Over the last week, they hadn’t done much to say the least. They hardly ever left his house, only to go to the shop, and then the rest of their days were filled with talking, chess, sex and relishing in the time that they had together. In a few months time she would be jet setting the world again, and she wasn’t to know what was going to happen when she arrived so she wanted to stay like this for as long as she could. Neither had them had mentioned the World Championships, and neither of them had made any want to mention it and that was okay. Whilst YN had been laying in Harry’s bed, he had asked her a few things but that had not been one of them. The most surprising thing that he had asked her was whether or not she wanted to live with him for a while, until she found her feet. She had only mentioned that she probably would have to sell the house and buy something smaller once to Harry, but he had mentioned it and he had offered to help her. There was sadness in her, due to the fact that she was having to sell the house that she had grown up in, spent all of her days and learnt to play the very thing that she loved the most just to survive. He’d been there when she cried after talking to the estate agent on the phone, and he had been there when they had phoned her up and said that they already had someone that wanted to look at the house. He had told her that he would be there for her, and YN was beginning to understand that the more that life threw at her. 

An hour or so after YN had gotten the news that people were interested in the house, Harry had called her name from the kitchen. At first she hadn’t wanted to leave the little home that she had made herself under Harry’s duvets, but when he called her name again she sighed and stood up, making her way down the stairs and towards Harry’s kitchen. On the island, Harry had prepared a meal for them, with glasses of blackcurrant squash and candles and everything that she could ever want. The thing that she loved the most was that it was him. He moved around the kitchen, finishing up their meal with such ease and all whilst wearing a yellow, floral apron that looked like it had just walked out of a nineteen-fifties advert of some sort. 

“What’s all this for?” She had asked, walking over and taking a seat in the one that meant that she still had a view of Harry moving his way around the kitchen. 

“I just felt as though. . .” He starts, bringing a bowl over to her and placing it down on the mat that he had placed down, “You needed some cheering up. Pasta always cheers me up, and I guessed that it might work the same for you.” 

She had bit her lip to suppress the smile that threatened to move over it but it didn’t work, and the grin crossed over her face. He responded with one of his own, one that made her stomach flutter and her heart miss a beat. He seemed to know how to bring her out of her funks, and make her feel all the better without actually doing that much. 

“How did you know?” She grinned.

He sat down in the chair next to her, his own bowl of pasta in front of him and he shrugged, “Call it, a lover’s intuition.” 

YN shook her head, laughing at Harry’s choice of words. He was right, they were lovers at some sort at that point in time, but it still didn’t mean that it didn’t cause her heart to flutter in love for the name and also in cringe that the man had said it. There were plenty of things that he could’ve called them, and lovers just seemed to be the worst of them all, “Never call us that again.” 

His shoulders shook when he laughed, and her heart started to beat faster within her chest. It just seemed as though anything the man did, absolutely anything, caused her body to only think of that and what it meant to be with him in the way that she was. They hardly said a word during the meal, only stealing stolen glances at each other whenever they found it right to do so, which to YN seemed to be all of the time. It seemed to be the same for Harry, because he also couldn’t take his eyes off of her — holding intervals of looking at his meal in front of him and then at the girl. 

“You know. . .” He he started, it being the only thing that he had said the entire time that they had been eating, “I think pasta might actually be the key to my heart.” 

When they had finished eating, the two of them moved to the living room. Harry sat in one corner of the sofa whilst YN laid with her head in his lap, him reading a book of some sorts above her whilst she just laid with her eyes closed and the sound of the record that they had spinning filling the room. It was pure and utter bliss, something that she certainly wasn’t going to be taken for granted. 

She looked up at him, biting her lip as she looked at his concentrating face, one that he had seen plenty times before. 

“What.” She giggled and shook her head. 

“Nothing.” She shrugged. 

“Nothing?” He closed his book and threw it so that it landed on the coffee table in front of them. She grinned and moved so that she was sat up and facing him, “I’ll give you nothing.” 

She fell back so that she was laid on the sofa, Harry’s body hovering over hers. He wrapped his hands around her wrists so he could pin them to the sofa, next to her head. He leant down so that his lips were hovering over hers, “Harry, don’t tease.” 

“Why?” He grinned, leaning down to kiss her nose, “I live for teasing.” 

She giggled and she moved her head upwards, capturing her lips on his. He pulled away and tutted, “Less of that, I’ll be the one to decide when I’m finished teasing and not.” 

“What about me?” She mumbled, pressing a single kiss to his jaw and then to his cheek. 

“What about you?” He laughs, “You want to tease me?” 

She shrugged, pouting slightly, “I wouldn’t mind it. You tease me enough, I wouldn’t mind to be on the opposite end of it for once.” 

Harry shook his head, leaning down and capturing his lips on hers again. She never wanted to stop kissing him, she was addicted to his lips, “I’d like to see you try, love. I think you’re all bark and no bite.” 

That night they had gone to bed wrapped up in each others arms, and each other’s taste upon the other’s lips. They were exactly how YN wanted them to be, with each other but also so happy within themselves that they believed noting could hurt them. All of the sadness that she had felt had been pushed to the back of her mind, and all she could focus on was trying to make Harry feel good, and feel as loved as he made her. 

“In all seriousness.” She ran her fingers over his forehead, pushing some of his curls off of his forehead, “How many girlfriends have you had?” 

Harry sighed again, reaching over and placing his hand upon her cheek. He kissed her. He kissed his girlfriend whilst trying to conjure up the best way to talk about his exes with her. She knew that  he maybe wouldn’t want to, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t try. He pulled away and smiled at her, and she knew that everything would be okay. 

“I’ve only had three in my life.” 

“Three?” She looked a little dumbfounded, and she knew that it probably wasn’t the best look. 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Don’t look so shocked.” 

It wasn’t that she was shocked that Harry actually had three girlfriends, she was more so shocked that the number wasn’t higher. She couldn’t believe that nobody had found him as irresistible as she did. A part of her was happy, though, because it meant that nobody had snatched him up before she was given the opportunity to. 

“I’m not shocked, maybe surprised.” 

Harry chuckled, placing a kiss to her lips, “What are you surprised about?” 

“I don’t know, I thought the number would be higher.” 

“Are you calling me a slag?” 

“No!” She chuckles, shaking her head, “I just can’t believe nobody else has snatched you up, that’s all.” 

He raised one of his eyebrows at her, “Are you saying that you’ve snatched me up?” 

She chuckled shaking her head and snuggling herself closer into his chest. His fingertips danced over the exposed skin of her back, drawing little doodles onto her skin with the tip of his fingers. YN smiled at the feeling, giggling slightly whenever he did something that tickled the girl, which was more often than not. 

“I am.” She grinned, “Is that okay with you?” 

“Fine by me.” He certainly seemed happy with the words he was saying, causing her stomach to bubble with excitement. 

“Now tell me why I’ve managed to do it.” 

He glanced down at her, pressing a singular kiss to her nose, “I don’t know. None of my past relationships ever seemed as serious as this, and they always seemed to end for some reason — usually to do with chess, if I’m honest.” 

YN furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure what he exactly meant from his words, “Chess? What did chess do?” 

“You have to admit, chess does take over our lives.” 

She ponders the thought for a minute, “I suppose so, yeah.” 

“The first girlfriend I had was in high school, and she didn’t like that every free second I had was playing chess, and trying to get better and she didn’t like that. The other two were when I was twenty and then twenty-two, when my career started to peak and they started to think I cared about chess more than then, which wasn’t exactly a lie.” 

“I understand.” YN nodded, “I guess that it’s easier for us because I understand it for you, and you understand what it’s like for me.” 

He nodded and pulled her closer to his chest, moving slightly on the bed so that his head was level with hers. There was something about laying with him, completely naked for him to see that excited YN but also caused nerves to flush across her entire body. For YN, she had never really had this closeness to someone before and she was learning what she was comfortable with as they went along. She was sure if she wasn’t comfortable she could change the way that she was, but she wasn’t, so she didn’t see the point. 

“They didn’t.” He explains, “They saw that I was spending my time going over Ivanov’s work instead of taking them on dates and didn’t like it. I suppose I understand, because I never had any time for them but for us, we’ll be able to spend that time together and focus on our chess.” 

“You don’t mind that I’m better than you?” 

He looked down at her, “I can’t say my ego likes it but I don’t mind.” 

She pouted, tilting her head to the side. 

“I don’t think I believe you.” 

“Well, I promise you. And anyway, I helped you win. I’ll always have that.” 

“You will. I wouldn’t have been able to do it with out you.” 

YN looked up at Harry, and he looked as though he was going to say something really profound when in reality he said, “I know.” 

Harry laughed as she shook her head, “Are you sure your ego doesn’t mind?” 

He nodded, “I’m positive.” 

“Now I truly think your bullshitting.” 

He runs his fingers across his arm, a silence dropping over them for a second, “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Boyfriends? Relationships?” 

“Uh.” She hesitates for a minute, trying to find the right words to say, “I haven’t had a boyfriend before, you’re my first.” 

“Really?” He does look shocked, “I can’t believe that.” 

“If you knew me a few years ago you would. I never left the house to meet people to date, only to go to the pub and get drunk. People came to the store, obviously, but they were people who knew me as the shy little kid from high school that spent her days with her little travel chessboard rather than concentrating on school.” She explained, “I never tried to make friends because I knew they wouldn’t understand me, and I felt as though people would only want to spend time with me if they had sex with me. It didn’t fill the void when my grandfather left. I still felt just as upset and angry as I did before I left for the pub but it was the only way I thought I could get over it.” 

Harry stilled for a second, “I understand.” 

“I can’t changed what I did, and I can’t say that I regret it.” She explains, “If I wasn’t how I was I wouldn’t be happy with my chess-playing boyfriend as I am now. My granddad will be so proud.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, a large grin crossing his face, “He would?” 

She nodded, “If he was alive he’d want to play with you, and he’d probably beat you.” 

“I’d be defeated happily.” 

“I know you would.”

They smiled at each other and continued to lay in bed, silence overcoming them and the only slight sound they could hear was the light breathing coming from the two of them, and there was something about just sitting with him and doing nothing that she loved, and adored about this man. She was at ease with him, something that she can’t say about much else in her life. Chess made her nervous, and whenever she thought about her family an overwhelming sadness rolled over her but Harry, the man laid beneath her, made everything better. 

When the two of them finally decided to get out of bed, they dressed and moved themselves from the bedroom, to the living room. Harry started to give the place a little clean, whilst YN hoovered and then they both settled themselves in the sofa. There was something about being so domestic with each other that YN loved and wanted nothing more than to do for the rest of her life. YN was reading, and Harry was scrolling through his phone as a vinyl spun around on Harry’s player. It was another thing that YN loved about being with Harry — they didn’t have to talk and they were just comfortable with each other. 

“YN?” She hummed when she heard Harry’s voice, not lifting her eyes away from the book that she was reading. It wasn’t chess, for once, and she was really enjoying it, “We do need to talk about the Championships at some point.” 

She shakes her head, “I don’t want to.” 

Harry chuckled and sat down the sofa with her, dropping her head to her shoulder, “We need to. You have the World Championships in less than a month.” 

“Thank you for reminding me.” 

“You’re welcome.” He chuckled, “But we do need to talk about it. Have the ECA said anything?” 

“Nope.” She pops her ‘p’ and shakes her head, “Well, I don’t think so. I haven’t looked at the mail.” 

“Is it coming here?” He asked and she nodded, so he got up and walked towards the door, picking up a few envelopes and shifting through them until he found the one that he was looking for, “I think I’ve found it.” 

She places the book down on the coffee table and holds her hand out for the letter, “Let’s look at this, then.” 

He passes it to her and she sighs, opening the envelope and immediately being met with the ECA’s logo embossed in gold at the top. Very fancy for a chess association, she must admit. 

“Read it to me.” Harry says, dropping his head to her lap and she nods. 

“Dear YN YLN.” She starts, “To start, the English Chess Association would love to congratulate you on your recent win to become the European Champion, we are so proud of you, and I hope you know how amazing you are. A little bit of history for you: the last British Champion was Isaac Williams who won in 1956. You are also the first female champion to ever win. Honestly, Harry I can’t explain how pissed off I am with the female shit. I’ve had this at every single game I’ve ever played except from the one with Sarah and I’m sorry to get heated, but my fucking vagina doesn’t make any difference to how I play chess.” 

Harry blinks at her for a second before bursting out in laughter. She looks at him and tries not to laugh, because she is being very serious, but his laugh is infectious and she can’t help but laughing. 

“You need to print that on a t-shirt.” He wipes one of the tears that had slipped out of his eye from his cheek, “That was gold, fuck, I wish I had recorded it.” 

She rolls her eyes at him before picking up the letter again and continuing to read, “As you know, the winner of the European Championships is invited to play in the World Championships, with the best players from the other continents in the world in Russia. The last time that a British player made it there, I’m sure you could guess, was in 1956. A British player has never, ever won the Championships, but we hope that it will be you.” 

“It will be you.” Harry nods, “I have absolutely no doubt about that.” 

“I’m glad you don’t because I certainly do.” 

“Oh shut it, will you.” He shakes his head and pokes her stomach slightly, “You’re going to win.” 

“I’ll let you keep thinking that.” She shakes her head and clears her throat, “At the moment, we have the information to book your tickets for yourself and your second, Mr. Harry Styles. The trip will be for seven days to Moscow, Russia. If this isn’t the case please let us know ASAP. We wish you all the best and we will send all of the information closer to the time. Sincerely, everyone at the ECA.” 

The letter wasn’t as impressive or as interesting as she thought it was going to be and she was disappointed that there wasn’t anything of real substance for the girl to read and look at. YN passed Harry the letter, and he reached forward to place it on the coffee table. YN dropped her hand to run through his hair. 

“Is that still the case?” She asks, a slight nervousness to her words when she said them. 

“Is what still the case?” 

“That you want to come to Russia with me?” 

Harry sat up immediately and turned so that he was looking at her, directly in the eye and not moving them away from hers. She would say that she felt a little intimidated but now that she knew Harry there wasn’t an intimidating bone in his body even if he tried. 

“Do you not want me to?” 

“Of course I want you to.” 

“Then I’m coming.” He smiles, “I never wasn’t coming. I’d never let you go to Russia to play on your own — it’s a recipe for disaster.” 

“Probably.” She hums, “I don’t want to think about it.” 

“We’re going to have to think about it.” 

“I know.” She sighs, dropping her head to his shoulder, “It’ll be Mr. Styles’ chess training camp again, and I’ll feel like I’ll be walking around half-asleep all of the time.” 

“It wasn’t that bad!” 

“It was.” 

His lips clamp shut for a second, “I’m not sorry for it. You won.” 

“I’m not either.” She lifts her head up again and looks at him, “I just like complaining.” 

“I know you do.” He sighs, leaning forward to place a kiss to her lips, “It’s a good thing I like you, love you even.” 

It certainly was. 

A week or so later the two of them had to take a break from going over chess games to drive up to the North West of England so that they could pack up YN’s grandparents house up and get everything sorted that needed to be. It was a long few days of packing everything up, and taking things where they needed to go but YN was happy that she had done it, seeing as though she wouldn’t be able to look after the place on her own and it seemed to like a waste to keep the house for herself when a family could live in it and create memories just like she had done with her grandparents. 

All of YN’s boxes of things, albeit there weren’t that many, they brought to Harry’s house. He had offered to let her stay there for a while when they arrived back from Paris, and she promised herself that at some point she would start apartment hunting for somewhere to live but the two of them were okay with what they had going on at the moment, and she wasn’t going to ruin it by starting to apartment hunt. In a few weeks, if Harry turned to her and asked her to leave then she would, but right now she was okay. 

They had gotten back into the swing of practicing and constantly going through and playing different games to the point that YN wanted to rip her hair out. She understood why it was important, because she did want to win but at the same time she hated that the higher she went in the chess world, the more pressure she felt to succeed and find herself at the top every single time. If she didn’t have a chance at all to win, then she would try her best and accept that she lost but when she knows that she could win, it makes everything ten times worse. 

As much as she hated to admit it, she’s noticed that it also makes Harry ten times worse. 

Leant back in her chair, her arms crossed and her eyes slowly closing, she found herself letting out yawns in intervals quick that what she usually would to say the least. Harry was dribbling on about something that she knew that she should probably should be paying attention to but they had been at this for hours today and she can’t remember how many weeks that they had been like this now. There was only so much chess that one can endure without going a little bit insane, and YN was teetering on the edge. 

Harry was looking over something in a book when she stood up to take her plate and mug into the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” 

She stopped when she heard his voice and turned around slowly to show him the plate and cup in her hand, “I was going to wash up.” 

She raises her eyebrow at him and he looks at her as though she really does have three heads sitting on her shoulders. She really didn’t think that it was too much of an odd thing to want to do, especially as the time was teetering on being quiet late and she wanted nothing more than to shower and get in bed. A hot shower and getting in Harry’s warm bed sounded like bliss if she was honest. 

“We haven’t started these games yet.” 

“I’m just really tired, Harry.” She explains, “I just want to go and get in the shower and then get in bed. Can’t we start them tomorrow?” 

He sighs and drops the book that he had in his hands on the table, “We need to go over Kuznestov’s attack tomorrow, we won’t have time.” 

“Harry. . .we will.” She starts, starting to feel more and more irritated as time continued, “I just need to go to bed now. I’m really tired.” 

“And if we miss something, we’ll fall behind. We don’t have time for that.” Harry spoke, as though it was the most important thing in the world and not the fact that she needed sleep. 

She shook her head and walked into the kitchen, not wanting to listen to whatever else he had to say, “Harry, we’ll make time for it. I need sleep.” 

He shook his head, standing up and crossing his arms over his chest and following her into the kitchen. She didn’t look at him and instead placed the plates and mug in the sink and started the water. 

“YN.” He was close to her, she could hear him. She flickered her eyes back to look at him and saw him leant against the counter opposite where she was stood, “I’m only trying to help you. The more we prepare the better you’ll be when we get to Russia.” 

She looked away from him again, her eyes falling back to the sink that was now full of water. She shook her head and picked up the washing up liquid that was in a bottle by the side of her and grabbed a sponge that would make it easier for her to clean up the dishes. She wouldn’t say that she was annoyed with him at this moment, but if he carried on the way that he was she knew that it wouldn’t be long before she really was annoyed with him. He wasn’t listening to her and seemed to be ignoring every little thing that she said. 

After a few minutes or so, and after she had cleaned both her plate and her mug and placed them on the draining board, she turned to look at him, “Harry?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I want to go to sleep.” 

“You can.” He shrugs, “Once we’ve finished the games we had planned.” 

“You had planned.” 

“Oh, so now you don’t want to do it?” 

“Harry—”

“— YN, I am just looking out for you, that’s all I’m doing. I could be doing a thousand other things right now than helping you with this fucking chess but I’m doing this for you! The least you could do is actually fucking be awake for me to do so!” 

Everything in YN’s body stilled and she closed her eyes. 

“I understand that you want to help me Harry, I do—”

“No!” He stopped her immediately, “I don’t think you do, YN! I’ve fucking planned and worked my arse off so that I can make sure that you’re prepared to play the best fucking players in the world and all I get is that you’re fucking tired?” 

“Don’t you think that I deserve a break? We deserve a break?” 

“I do.” He explains, his eyes lifting to look at her, “And we’ll get it when we’re back from Russia and you’re world champion.” 

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. 

“You know what, Harry?” He hums, “I would agree with you, but I’ve worked my ass off for I don’t know how long, I don’t know whether I have enough money to survive and I’m fucking petrified of playing these players and for one day, one fucking day, I just want to shower and go to sleep earlier than fucking midnight.” 

“YN—”

“No, Harry!” She sighs, “I’m not going to listen to you say all of that and then not stand up for myself. I’m exhausted and I just won’t stand for it!” 

He blinked at her a few times and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m just trying to keep things realistic, YN.” 

“Realistic?” 

“These players, as we keep saying, are the best in the world! Best. You know I believe in your YN, but I’ll believe in you more if you keep preparing and looking over the games like we had been.” 

She sighed, “It’s one night, Harry. Five fucking hours.” 

“That’s still time that we’re wasting.” 

“Does anything matter to you other than chess?” She sighed, leaning back and crossing her arms across her chest, “I’m fucking standing here and arguing with you I could be in the shower and be in bed by now.” 

YN saw the vein pop out of his head, and she wondered how angry he was getting, “Why aren’t you then?” 

“Because I’m stood here arguing with you! You’re so adamant against the fucking thing!” 

YN closed her eyes and tried to stop them from becoming even blurrier than they were. 

“I just want you to win, YN. That’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted.” 

A tear rolled down her cheek, “I know, Harry.” 

“Then you must understand where I’m coming from.” 

YN clamped her teeth down on her bottom lip and nodded, her heart racing out of her chest. She knew that it was important but she just wanted to sleep. 

“I know you’re trying to help me, Harry, I know you are.” She sighs, lifting her hand up to wipe her cheek, “But sometimes people need a break, and today is one of those times. I’m tired. I need a shower. The last thing I want to do is start looking through more of Kuznestov’s games when I know that they’ll be hard and complicated and I’m almost certain that the words will go in one ear and out the other. I just know it.” 

After a minute or so Harry sighed and nodded his head. 

“Now. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get in the shower.” 

There was a part of YN that knew that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Harry and go get in the shower, since he was right and she did have a Championship competition to play in a couple of weeks but she couldn’t overwork herself, and she knew that. She was surprised that he didn’t know that. He had been playing in these Championships a lot longer than she had, so he must know that overworking isn’t a good idea, right? YN knew that overworking in school wasn’t a good thing, and she knew that overworking in a setting like this isn’t something that should be done. That didn’t mean to say that she hadn’t done it to herself in the past, it was just now that she decided not to do so. 

Harry must understand that. He has to. Harry was one of the most understanding people that she had ever met in her life and now here he was seemingly not understanding something that she thinks most people should know. When they were at her house, preparing for Paris, he worked her hard and long hours but she never once wanted to stop. Maybe that was why she hadn’t noticed that he overworks not only himself but the people he is around. 

YN let out a long sigh as she walked up the stairs, making her way down the hall and towards Harry’s bathroom that now had quite a few of her toiletries in. She didn’t know what Harry was doing downstairs, and a part of her didn’t want to know what he was doing. When she walked into the room, she closed the door behind her and leant her head against it with a sigh. She hoped that the shower she was gong to have would calm her down, relax all of her limbs so that she could enjoy it. She moved her towel from the radiator to the cabinet by the shower door so that she’d be able to reach it and turned on the water, not stepping in just yet so it had time to warm up. She stripped of her clothes, dropping the material into a pile on the floor and then kicking it away so that it wouldn’t get wet when she was opening and closing the shower door. 

Once the water was warm enough, she opened the shower door and stepped in, allowing the warm water to flow down her body. She instantly felt her muscles relax under the stream of water, all of the tension leaving her body as she sighed. As she stood there, she remembered that she knew that Harry had did have down time in his life, she just wondered whether he had it enough. She maybe thought that he only had downtime whenever he didn’t need to prepare for something, but because YN did have to prepare for something, maybe he didn’t think that they should have downtime. She didn’t know, because she hadn’t been with him when they had prepared for things before, whether he worked and worked and didn’t give himself any breaks until he had finished the Championships. Maybe that was why he didn’t like the idea of the break but she didn’t know, she was only thinking of things. 

She started to wonder whether or not that was one of the reasons that when YN met Harry, he was so against continuing to play in Championships. If he had been playing non-stop and practicing non-stop than she wasn’t surprised that he wanted to stop playing. It wasn’t an healthy way to do something. All of these thoughts ran around her head and she started to feel sorry for him, and it was as though the argument they had just had evaporated from her and all she could think about was making sure that he was okay and letting him know that she only wants to help him understand. 

As she ran her hand over her hair, slicking it back and making sure that every strand was wet she heard bathroom door open. She turned her head from looking at the wall to the door, where Harry was now stood. He looked at her with questioning eyes and bit his lip, and no matter how much she knew that it probably wasn’t the best thing to do, especially after they’ve just argued, she nodded her head for him to come into the room, and hopefully into the shower. She watched as he slipped the shirt he had on his body over his head and pulled both his joggers and boxers down at the same time, leaving him completely naked and watching every move she made. She looked back at the wall and heard the door open, the cool air of the bathroom invading the shower as she stood there. She shivered slightly. He came up behind her, so close that she could feel him hovering as though he was slightly nervous to touch her. She felt his hand hovering over her shoulder and she leant back slightly so that his skin met hers. He obviously picked up a little courage, and he moved her hair to the side so that the back of her neck was exposed to him. He leaned forward and placed a kiss to her skin, the sort of kiss that to YN felt like an apology. An apology without any words. 

YN leant her head back so that she could rest it upon Harry’s shoulder, her back immediately pressing to his front and the two of them feeling sort of like themselves again. He rested his hand upon her waist, and she closed her eyes at the feeling. YN had never in her life had a connection like this before, one where she could communicate with someone without having to say anything. It was a breath of fresh air, especially since a lot of the time she didn’t really know what to say when it came to talking to people, especially when it came to emotions — she was way better at showing them than speaking them. 

Harry’s hand moved across from her hip to her stomach, dancing across the skin lightly. She threw her head back even further if it was possible and hummed, her eyes fluttering shut when she felt his hand slip lower to meeting between her thighs. He used one of his fingers to run between her folds, feeling the arousal that had started to collect there just from him touching her lightly. To her, she couldn’t understand how him making such light movements across her skin could make her feel the way that it did. He started to circle his finger over her clit, the tightness immediately gathering in her stomach and her legs starting to tremble slightly. She let out what she thought was a quite moan but it must have been louder than she anticipated because it seemed to egg Harry on, circling his finger faster. He couldn’t take his eyes away from looking at her, down her body and to the point where his finger met her. He could almost moan at the sight himself but he kept it together, knowing that it would be a little embarrassing due to the fact that nobody was touching him at all. 

YN couldn’t help it, and she burrowed her hips backward, the softness of her skin rutting against his hardening cock. He couldn’t help but groan into her ear at the feeling of that, she couldn’t help it. Her hips twisted against his finger, and as he circled his finger quicker he could feel how hot and slick her cunt was, and how it convulsed for him. He wanted to please her, and he felt as thong the was when he heard the little moans and whimpers that left her lips. He could listen to that sound forever and never get tired of it. It was like music to his ears, a sweet sound that he wanted to savour and cherish for as long as he physically could. She knew that she wasn’t going to last very long, especially if he carried on like he was, circling her clit whilst one of his hands tweaked her nipple. 

“Gonna come for me?” His voice was gruff in her ear, “Gonna come, baby?” 

“H. . .” She couldn’t even say his entire name, and the words came out of her lips embarrassingly breathy. She whimpered as his fingers left her clit and moved them down so he could slip two into her wet cunt. 

He lifted his other hand to her hair and manoeuvred her head so that he could place his lips upon hers. They haven’t done anything in the shower before, and the feeling of it sent her head spiralling and every part of her body wanting more. She was completely and utterly devoted to him, and to his touch and no matter how much she could try and convince herself that she wasn’t she certainly was. If Harry was the only person in the world that she could speak to and be with after this day she wouldn’t mind at all, because he was one of the easiest people to be around that she had ever met, and one of the best people she had ever met. YN felt as though they were made for each other, and she knew that there was a word for that but she just couldn’t remember what it was. 

She tipped her head back again and whimpered when he started to move his fingers in and out quicker, slipping his other hand down her body to toy with her clit. He knew how to make her feel good and more importantly he knew the things that would have her withering underneath his touchy and screaming his name at the top of his lungs. He loved her and she loved him, and that meant that they knew how to do things for each other, things such as these. 

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

Her eyes immediately opened and she turned her head to look at him, she could almost see the tears in his eyes. He didn’t stop his movements, and she felt overcome with a lot of emotions in such a short amount of time that she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She didn’t move her eyes away from the side of his head and he didn’t move his away from the spot in between her legs where his hands still rested. 

“Please say something.” 

“I forgive you, Harry.” She says, her words coming out jumbled, “I do, but please. . .” 

He quickened the pace of his fingers and she lifted her hand and gripped his arm, her nails digging into his arm as he brought her closer and closer to her climax, the feeling bubbling within the pit of her stomach and causing her eye sight to go slightly blurred. 

“Please what?” 

“Harry you know what!” She threw her head back and moaned, the sound filling up the small room they were in. 

He curled his fingers deeper in side of her, grinning slightly into her shoulder as she noticed her hips rolling and her lips parted, his fingers obviously hitting the spot within her that brought her closer and closer to her peak. 

“I don’t think I do.” He teased, “Tell me.” 

She was right on the edge of her orgasm. She knew that, and he knew that. The hot water from the shower still sprayed onto them, and she wished that it relaxed her like it had done when she had stepped under the stream not that long ago but now it just seemed to bubble in her and cause even more heat to dance over her body. Her head pushed against his shoulders, and she knew that she was digging her nails into his skin harshly but she just couldn’t help it, her legs were starting to tremble and she knew that she was going to jump off the edge at any second. 

“Come, baby.” He whispered in her ear, “Do it. I know you’re there.” 

She was there. Her entire body shook and she felt a heat run across her body like wildfire. She moaned and didn’t care about how loud she was because she knew that nobody else could hear her but the two of them. She saw stars when she came, and she didn’t know whether or not it was because of the heat of the shower or because of how emotional she felt. It just seemed as though everything that had happened today came to that point. 

Once she had recovered slightly, she turned around and placed her lips onto his. Their fronts were now flushed against each other, her arms around his neck and their lips firmly clamped together. She didn’t want to pull away, and she could feel Harry’s cock against her and she knew that she had to do something to make him feel better. She moved one of his hands down from around his neck to his chest, dancing over the tattoos that littered his skin and down until she could she could take him in her hand. He groaned and dropped his head against her neck as she wrapped her hand around him, moving it up and down as the stream of water poured above them. He knew that he wasn’t going to last long, and the way that she every so often ran her thumb over the tip of his cock meant that the time was coming on them quicker and quicker. 

“What do you want, Harry?” She taunts, the words slipping off her grinning lips, “Tell me.” 

He groans in response to her and shakes his head, knowing exactly why she was saying this. He loved to tease her, and she hated it but whenever she felt like she had the upper hand she had absolutely positively made sure to do it back to him. He deserved it. 

“Fuck, baby.” She moved her hand quicker and she could see his stomach flexing, and she knew that he was close. When he did, it landed both on her stomach and on the floor of the shower, slipping down the drain and being washed away. Harry lifted his head from her shoulder to place a kiss to her lips. 

She pulled away and leant over to grab his shampoo, and he knew that everything would be okay. 

Harry was still asleep when YN woke up the next morning, and she decided that it was probably best if she didn’t wake him up, so she didn’t. She slipped out of bed and pulled on Harry’s purple dressing gown that was hung on the back of the door and made her way downstairs. Downstairs looked identical to how it had when she left last night, with her dishes still on the draining board and the chess board still set out on the table in the same way that it had been when she left. She sighed and moved the pieces back to the way they would be if she was about to start a new game, thinking in her head that it was a new day and it would be best if she was starting a fresh. Once she had done that she made her way back into the kitchen so that she could boil the kettle. She took out two mugs from the cupboard and placed a tea bag in one and left the other by the coffee machine for when she knew that Harry would want when he came downstairs. 

She poured herself a cup of tea, one that she knew would at least start to bring her round once she’d had it from her slumber. She sat down at the table that they had been working at last night, and throughout the days prior to that and looked at the board. She knew that she needed to carry on working through games, and she said that would continue the next day but she just needed a break then, but Harry didn’t listen to that, and here she is. The Kuznestov games that Harry wanted to go through yesterday were still sat in a book by Harry’s side of the table, so she reached over and picked up the book, sighing when she saw the page that he obviously wanted to work on and opened it up, starting to play through the moves in complete and utter silence. 

“YN?” She heard Harry call her name from upstairs. 

“Down here!” 

She could hear the taps of his feet on the ceiling above her, and then to the right where she could hear him walking down the stairs. 

The stairs creaked as he moved, “Have you seen my dressing gown?” 

“The one that’s on my body?” 

He stops dead in his track when he saw her sat at the table, with a king rested comfortably within her palm, “Yeah. That’s the one.” 

“Your mugs under the coffee machine.” 

“Thanks, darling.” He walks past her and places a kiss to her temple, as she just carries on looking at the board and flicking through all of her options in her head. 

She tried to concentrate on the chess board in front of her, but when the loud buzzing of the coffee machine started and then Harry’s whistling that she normally loves to hear but today just isn’t sitting right, she drops her elbows on the table presses her fists into her temple to study the board. No matter how many times she thought she found a move that could counter the one that Kuznestov played, it hardly ever played out for longer than a few moves. 

In a few weeks she would be playing this man, no doubt in the final of the World Championships because if anyone was going to stand a chance of beating her, it was this man, and here she was, unable to find a move to counter his that wasn’t one that caused his opponent to loose. She wasn’t too nervous, because she knew that she’d be able to find one at some point but she was starting to feel as though everything that happened yesterday didn’t help her cause to say the least. 

“YN.” Harry walked over to where she was stood, his now full of coffee in his hand. She had been trying so hard to find a move that she hadn’t even noticed that the coffee machine had finished its buzzing and Harry had finished his whistling, “What are you playing?” 

“Kuznestov.” 

“What year?” 

“2002. Against—”

“— Eugene.”  

YN rolled her eyes, unable to stop herself, “Yes. Against Eugene.” 

“He was at his prime then. Kind of like you are now. I can’t say that he’s gotten worse than then, but I can’t say that he’s gotten any better.” Harry sits down and places his mug on the coaster that they had there from the day prior, “You won’t be able to find any faults because there aren’t any. His games from 2002 and 2003 have no mistakes in them, and if they do, then I and plenty of other people haven’t found them.” 

“Nobody has found any moves that would give his opponent the upper hand?” 

Harry shakes his head, “I studied them a few years ago, when I was preparing for a tournament in Germany. He wasn’t there but it was good practice.” 

“You played in Germany? I didn’t know that.” 

“I went through my international phase just like you are. I think I was twenty-two, twenty-three.” 

“International phase?” She chuckles and crosses her arms over her chest, “That’s what I’m in now?” 

“Yeah. Jet-setting all over the world, playing top-level chess in hopes that I’d bring home a hefty pay-check at the end.” 

“Where else did you play?” 

“Ugh.” He leant back in the seat, blowing out a breath of air as if he was thinking slightly, “I played in Berlin. Kraków, uh, Madrid. I played a bit of speed chess in New York when I was twenty-one, went with Mitch and a few other players from the ECA. It wasn’t really a work trip though, more so a—”

“Play speed chess and gamble sort of trip?” 

He nodded. 

“Exactly that.” 

“Did you always win there too? When you played?” 

He shifted his head from side to side slightly, “The majority of the time. Most of the time it was just betting for money. They weren’t on the book games, so to speak.” 

“But you prepared for them like you would a tournament?” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” 

“How would you prepare for them, Harry?” 

She leant back in her seat, keeping her arms crossed over chest as she looked at him. She didn’t mean for it to come out like it was but she just couldn’t help herself. 

“What is this? An interrogation?” 

She shrugs, “I’m just curious.” 

“Why? It’s all in the past. I won’t be playing anymore tournaments myself but I’ll help you prepare. I always will.” 

“I know that.” She nods, “But how did you prepare when you did play them?” 

It was his turn to shrug his shoulders, “Similarly to the way you do, I guess. I play through the games I find necessary before I leave and then I play.” 

“How long did you practice for?” 

“YN, I don’t know how this is—”

“How long?” 

“I don’t know, okay?” He snapped, but she didn’t flinch at the sight raise of his voice, “I did it like we do now. A nine to five. Like a working day.” 

YN shakes her head, “I know when you’re lying, Harry.” 

He stands up, knocking his chair back slightly as he did so. She kept her face stern and her eyes directly forward. 

“What do you want from me, YN?” 

“I want you to tell me the truth!” She says, looking up at him, “I just want to know, Harry.” 

He looks at her, and sees her eyes and the tears that have started to collect in them and sits down again in his chair. 

“I wouldn’t stop, okay?” He says, dropping his eyes down to the table and then looking back up at her, “I couldn’t stop.” 

YN’s lips parted slightly but she calmed them shut not that long after, “What happened, Harry?” He didn’t say anything, “We’re supposed to talk to each other, right? Trust each other? Tell each other everything?” 

He looked at her for a few seconds and then nodded. YN waited until he was ready to say something, not really wanted to push him further than she already was. 

“When I first started playing chess, I loved it. I couldn’t wait to get home and play the game that I as actually good at, something that I could beat anyone who I played against and I was only a kid.” He shook his head slightly, “My parents didn’t see it as something to be proud of. They saw it as a money making scheme. Started me playing in tournaments and even paid someone to train me.” 

“Train you?” 

He nodded, “His name was Rick. He was a national master of some sorts but then something happened and got his title revoked and he wasn’t allowed to play in anymore ECA games. He still played in underground games and somehow my parents found out about him and hired him.” 

“What did he do?” 

“He cheated.” Harry shrugged, “When I searched him up it only said that he cheated, never explained how. He also never spoke about it, so I didn’t know.” 

“And he trained you?” 

“He made me do what I showed you. Look through certain books and pamphlets and play through the games, hoping that I could find some mistake.” 

“Did you? I find the mistakes?” 

“I couldn’t leave until I did.” 

YN’s eyebrows furrow, “What?” 

“He wouldn’t let me leave the room until I did. I’d spend hours, days and nights staring at the same game on the board until I thought of something, anything so that I could go outside. Or have some food. Just something.” 

“What did you parents say?” 

“They didn’t care.” He shook his head, “My sister tried to get me out a few times but it was useless. He wouldn’t budge and they wouldn’t.” 

“Harry.” Her voice is quiet, and she’s trying to find the right way to ask this but she just can’t find the words, “Did he ever?” 

He looked down, “When it came to Kuznestov’s games, and other grandmasters games where they just didn’t make mistakes he’d get angry. He’d say that he was giving his time to helping me and I couldn’t even do what was asked of me. He’d say I wasn’t worth his time and that slackers don’t get anywhere in this world and then he’d. . . then he’d punch me.” 

The words cut through YN like a knife, and it all starts to become more obvious the more that YN thought about it. When she first met him, the first time she ever got angry with him he was trying to get out of playing tournaments like the ones that they were, and it was starting to make sense. He was trying to break himself out of the cycle, the cycle that he had grown up with and known nothing else but what it was like and she certainly hadn’t been someone to help, to say the last. She had asked him to help her prepare, and because she had no idea about what that as going to be like for him, because he hadn’t spoken to her, he had no idea about the consequences. 

She wished that he had told her. If he had, she wouldn’t have ever asked him to help her. If she had known what it was like for him, and what it could do to him she would have never had offered. At the same time that she was thinking this, he could’ve also told her. At any point during the time they had been together he could have told her, and it had taken to her literally forcing it out of her to get some information. She was guilty that it had to be done this way, but at the same time, she was happy that she knew. It was information that she needed to know. 

“Harry.” A tear rolls down her cheek, followed by others, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugged, “I don’t know.” 

“I wouldn’t have asked you to help me.” She sniffs, running the back of her hand across her cheeks, “I would’ve done it by myself. You didn’t need to put yourself through it.” 

“I was okay.” He shrugs, “I didn’t struggle with anything up until yesterday. I could feel it all day and I didn’t say anything. I should’ve. I apologise.” 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry.” She reaches by the side of the board and over the table so that she could grab his hand, “I’m sorry. I pushed you tell me. I should’ve known that it wasn’t right. I should be the one apologising. 

“I guess we’re both sorry, then.” He says, lifting her hand up to his lips so he could place a delicate kiss to the skin. 

“I just need you to promise me one thing, Harry.” 

“Anything.” 

“You won’t keep anything like this from me again?” 

“I promise.” 

The two of them had a sort of agreement from that conversation onwards. YN still prepared for the Championship in Russia, but the routine wasn’t as rigours and Harry wasn’t as involved with it. He still was there if she needed to talk to him about anything, or if he noticed that she’d missed anything but she never, ever pushed him to do something that she knew might not be the best thing for them, and he never, ever pushed her to carry on doing something or to start something that she didn’t want to. They had their own little routines that they kept to, but they always made time for each other, and that’s probably why they managed to keep everything calm and collected like it had been before their little bust up. YN was thankful for that. 

The week before they left for Russia, YN started to work longer hours than she had done. She’d get up at nine and work though games and tactics and endgames until around five o’clock. Harry would come and help for an hour or so in the morning and then for a few hours in the afternoon but he would distract himself with others things. YN knew that he had started to play in more speed chess competitions in London, but he hadn’t explained to her what else he was doing. She didn’t want to pry but she couldn’t say that she wasn’t curious. 

Leaving for Russia, YN was more nervous than she had been for any other tournament. She had said that the last time she played abroad, in Paris, but she truly meant it this time. The people she was going to be playing, she had been studying their games and learning from their games since she was a child herself, and here she was, going to play them. No matter how many times she reminded herself that she would be able to do it and there was a reason she had gotten this far, but it didn’t help overall when she had a real knack for self-sabotage just before she was going to play in one of the biggest tournaments of her life. 

They were sat in the back of a taxi, on their way from the airport to their hotel in Moscow. YN’s hands were messing with the end of her jumper, and her leg was periodically bouncing up and down. Harry had put his hand on her thighs, hoping that it would stop the bounce but it just transferred to the other leg, and he knew that he had to do something about it. 

“YN.” Harry grabs one of her hands and threads his fingers through it, “Let’s play chess.” 

She turned up to look at him, her eyebrows furrowing, “Chess? I’m about to play hours of it.” 

“I know.” He runs his thumb over the back of her hand, “But you won’t be playing against me.” 

She shakes her head, “We don’t have a board.” 

“We don’t need one.” He shrugged, “We can play in our heads.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll be white since it was my idea.” He grins at her and she rolls her eyes, “Pawn to king four.” 

“Pawn to queen bishop four.” 

“N.” Using a ’N’ when describing a piece meant a knight, “K-B3.” 

“Pawn to queen three.” She truly had to think about the moves when she played like this, thinking strategically and focusing on the board and the different movements each person made all on her head. From the years she had been playing, she could imagine the board up but had to focus more on making sure that she didn’t miss anything. She hadn’t played like this before. 

“P to Q four.” 

“Pawn takes pawn.” 

“Knight takes.” 

“N.” She tilts her head to the side, “King bishop three.” 

Thinking more about it, she realised that it was easy, and what Harry had planned for it to do was actually working. She wasn’t worried about what was going to happen in the Championship because she was now focusing on the imaginary pieces on the imaginary board in her head without any difficultly. 

“N to Q-B.” 

“Pawn to king’s night there.” She responded. 

“P to B four.” 

“P to B four.” 

“Not my favourite.” He shakes his head. 

She shrugged, “I like it.” 

She looked out of the window for a few minutes, looking at all of the cars lined next to her trying to get to the centre of the city. They were stuck under a tunnel, and she could hear the driver muttering something in Russian that YN didn’t understand. 

“Knight to B-3.” 

“Knight takes.” 

“Pawn takes.” 

“Pawn to king five.” 

“Pawn takes again.” YN smiles, knowing that she’d studied that a few days prior, “What are you smiling at?” 

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, “Queen takes Queen. Check.” 

“King takes.” They continued to play to around twenty-eight moves, up until the point where he had no choice but to resign. 

“Why did I offer to play you?” Harry shakes his head, running his hand over his face, “I always end up fucking loosing.”

She looks at him and smiles, “You were trying to help me. Thank you for that.” 

He hums, leaning forward to place a kiss to her lips, “I’m just such a good person. I even push past the fact that you’re so much better than me at chess.” 

“I suppose you have to.” 

They were playing and taking for so long that they hadn’t even noticed that they were outside of the hotel they were staying in until the car stopped. Harry thanked the driver and paid and they made their way inside. It was extravagant and beautiful, with marble floors and chandeliers and the expensiveness that YN only ever seemed to have when she came to tournaments and competitions. She couldn’t help that her lips parted in awe as she looked around. It seemed as though not only did the stakes in every Championship rise when YN moved further up, but the extravagance of the hotels also did too. 

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” She mumbled to Harry, as she looked around and he did the same. 

“It’s certainly something that’s for sure.” 

“I wonder what the rooms look like.” 

Harry turned to her and grinned, and she rolled her eyes in response, “I’m sure we’ll be finding out what they look like very soon.” 

“Just get going, will you?” 

He chuckled and walked forward towards the reception. She ignored his chuckles and walked even further towards him, this time making her way to the receptionist first. She ignored his tut and carried on what she was doing. She was given a large key with a fancy keyring on it that said ’24’ on it. Harry grinned and took the key off of her, and she didn’t protest and instead just walked up towards the lift and pressed the button for it. 

Their room was more like an apartment, and it still shocked YN every time she stepped into one of the hotel rooms and it seemed to get bigger and better than the one that they had been in prior. The sitting room had a TV, sofa and a whole dining table that would be perfect for some last minute practice before play started the next day. The colour scheme was black, white and a dark green that YN wouldn’t mind decorating a room in her house with the colours of this room. 

Her house. When the thought ran across her mind of having a house that was hers, she couldn’t quite imagine it. If someone had asked her a couple of months ago, she would probably say that she would live in her grandmother house forever, but that had changed. She would’ve then provably said that she would find herself a flat somewhere, just a small one but somewhere to live and call her own. She loved the idea of having somewhere to call her own when she was younger but now, everything had changed. 

YN couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without Harry. She couldn’t imagine waking up and not having her beside him, his body touching hers and his light snores filling the room. She couldn’t imagine making herself a cup of tea and not having to make Harry a coffee. She couldn’t imagine playing through a chess game without him either sat across from her or somewhere within shouting vicinity. She just couldn’t imagine it. YN could honestly and truthfully say that if when they return back from Russia, even though they really hadn’t been together a long time and it probably was way too early to think about anything of this sort, if Harry asked her to move in with him, she would say yes without any hesitation. She didn’t know whether he would ask her to move in with him, full time and not just whilst she found her feet, but a part of her wished that he would. Prayed that he would, actually. 

“YN!” She heard Harry call her name from the other room, “Come look at this.” 

She makes her way towards his voice and sees him sprawled out across one of the largest beds she’d ever seen. It must have been double the size of a double bed, and she couldn’t help but wonder why someone would need such a big a bed and how many people would be able to fit in the bed at one time. Harry lifted himself up on his elbows and smiled at her, tilting his head as if to urge her to come and sit on the bed with him. She walks over to him and straddles his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Harry placed his hands on the skin of her back, underneath her jumper. 

“I’m going to miss this.” He muttered, smiling at her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Once you win this there’s no where else to go. No more ECA competitions for you to win. You can play wherever you want.” 

“We can still go away though.” 

“I know.” He nods, his tongue slipping out to wet his bottom lip, “But it won’t be the same.” 

“We could make it the same.” 

“I know we could.” He grins, “But I think the next time we leave England, I want it to be for a proper holiday. One where we can be tourists and do touristy things and annoy all of the locals we meet.” 

“By being tourists our just with your bad language skills?” 

“Both.” They both chuckle. 

“Would we leave the chess at home?” 

He nods, “We certainly would.” 

“Where would we go?” 

“Somewhere hot.” She nods her head, liking the idea, “And we wouldn’t do anything. Nothing of real strain at all.” 

“I like that idea even more.” 

“I’m glad.” He leans forward a places a kiss to her nose, “But first? You need to win this so that will all become a reality.” 

“I’ll try.” She grins, “Just for you.” 

After placing a long kiss on his lips, she pulls away and clambers off his lap, making her way into the bathroom that it attached to the bedroom. The first thing she notices is the grand porcelain bathtub sat in the middle of the room, one that immediately sparks her interest as something she wouldn’t mind spending her time in whilst she’s here. She’d probably do it after having a particularly hard game, which she knew would be coming up with all of the people who she would eventually be playing during her time here. 

“I think we should get a bath.” Harry spoke as he walked into the room, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. 

“A bath? Where? In your house?” 

“No, I think we should get it for the garden.” He sakes his head, “Of course I meant in my house. I think it’d be a good new addition.” 

“Why haven’t you gotten a bath before?” She asks, turning around so that she’s facing him and her back is leant against the sinks counter, “You have enough room in your bathroom for it, and enough money for that matter.” 

He shrugs, “There wasn’t one when I moved in and I never felt the need to get one. I wasn’t one for baths myself and I’ve never had someone to want to share one with. . . until now.” 

She shakes her head at his remark, and more so at the wiggle of his eyebrows that he gives her, “Don’t get your hopes up too quickly, baby, I think I might make you wait a little longer.” 

He sighs, “Why?” 

“Dunno.” She shrugs, walking over to him, “Just feel like it. I have things to do, can’t be distracting myself with baths of all things.” 

She leaves the bathroom with a small smile and after placing a kiss to his cheek. 

When she arrived for play the next day, there was a man stood to greet all of the players before they started. The man in charge of everything spoke a few sentences in English, and then he moved on to speaking more in Russian. YN had learnt a few simple phrases but not enough to understand what the man was saying. He did explain that the games would begin every day at ten o’clock, which she was happy about because it meant that she had time to wake up and prepare herself for the play before it begun. The man also explained that there would be a referee that stands at each table whilst they play to make sure that everything is running smoothly and that there are no irregularity within any of it. 

After the brief introduction, the players were escorted into a room that had not only a large stage in the centre but an even larger area for audience members to sit in. A part of that did worry her slightly but not as much as would have a few months ago. She had started to become more and more used to the fact that the higher she went in these competitions, the higher the stakes were and the higher the popularity was to the point where there’s hundreds more audience members than there are players in the actual Championships. 

In the middle of the stage there were four tables, each the size of a desk with new and clearly expensive boards and pieces set up on them. As well as the expensive board, there was a black chess clock and a jug of water with two glasses, one for each of them. The chairs themselves were padded, meaning they would probably be more comfortable to sit in for the long amount of time that these games usually went on for. By the time they all walked in, the referees were already stood by the tables, pristine black suits on their backs and a board behind them that already had the games set up. 

She stood and waited for the director to say her name, and he did, it spilling it out of his lips and into the microphone for the entire room to hear. There was applause from everyone in the room, and she sort of felt dizzy from the warmth and happiness that it gave to her. She walked over to the table that she had been directed to and sat behind the black pieces with a smile upon her face. She felt like a celebrity, a chess celebrity at that, but one nonetheless. After she had sat down, the applause started again but this time for her first opponent, Volkov. YN knew that he was in his twenties, having been born to play chess like many of the Russian players are and had quite youthful features. What annoyed YN about him was that the second he sat down, he started drumming his fingers on the table. If he continued to do that she wouldn’t know whether or not she would be able to concentrate at the task at hand. There wasn’t a large question about it, though — she would have to be. 

When the applause in the room stopped, and all of the other players, including Kuznestov, had been introduced, the director walked down the row of table and pushed the clocks. He did so with a stuck-up poise that YN wasn’t surprised to see. As he walked past their table, he placed his finger on the top of the button on YN’s side and pressed it, starting Volkov’s clock. 

Volkov immediately started play by moving his king pawn to the fourth rank. YN didn’t hesitate in moving her queen bishop pawn, the feeling of butterflies bubbling within her stomach at just playing this type of chess, against another person of skill similar to hers. The board itself was unlike any she’d seen before, with heavy pieces with glossy finished and each of them sitting comfortable on their opaque squares. The bard had a matt finish to it, which contrasted the glossy one of the pieces. In her head, she wondered whether or not at some point she’d be able to get a board like this one. It was beautiful. She leant back in her chair and watched as Volkov played his king’s knight to bishop three. She played her queen’s knight and moved it to queen’s bishop three. Their play continued, with Volkov playing pawn to queen four, which she took with her pawn and setting it to the right of her clock. She could hear the referee behind them repeating their moves on the big board. She felt her shoulders seizing up and she made a mental note to remind herself to ask Harry to rub her shoulders when her gave finished.

She knew what Volkov’s style was from the games that she had played through with Harry, and she knew which Variation he would use to follow her certain moves because he had done it repeated times in different games. It made it easier for her because she knew that if he had prepared things before, it usually meant that they would prepare things for other games. As far as he could tell, his play was similar to Auch’s who she had played to win the European title, so she knew that it wouldn’t be too hard to beat him, even if it would take quite a while like it had done in the last game she played. She knew that she didn’t really have a name over here, because nobody in her own country had even heard of her until a few months ago and she knew that meant he would be expecting an easy win, but he wouldn’t get it, because she knew what she was doing and she knew that he was good at it. 

She castled in response to his move, feeling comfortable in it knowing that it would help her in the long run from everything she’d learnt about his games. Their game started to gradually move from an opening without any errors to a middle game where the two of them had both without one king and one bishop and their kings protected and no downfalls that each could see in their games. By the seventeenth move they both had found themselves in equal positions on the board that could lead them both to danger. They were playing subtly, and certainly not in the way that she would normally play the game where she would attack early on. 

Due to Volkov playing white, he did have an advantage and he did try to use that by offering threats that could have worked on a less skilled player, but didn’t really work on her. On the twenty-third move of the game she found an opportunity to open a file for her queen rook whilst forcing him to retreat a bishop as she did so. Volkov looked at it for a while, as though he was studying it in his head before retreating his bishop. She brought her rook over, and sighed knowing that it was starting to fall into place for her. 

A few more moves later she found a way of increasing her chances, pushing a pawn to the fifth rank and offering it up as a sacrifice. He didn’t take the offering though, but was later forced to bring the knight it attacked back to the square in front of the queen. YN brought her rook to the third rank, and she knew that he would have to think to respond to it. He seemed to start to become more and more concerned as time moved on, whilst also trying to not look concerned at all that any of this was happening. His clock ticked and ticked as he carried on looking over the board. Maybe he hadn’t prepared for this game as much as she thought that he had, and now he was shocked that he could make a move like that. She continued to attack him, and he finally reached the point where she could safely post her remaining knight on queen five, where she couldn’t dislodge it. Two moves later she moved it there and brought her rook over to the knight file, directly where his king was. He again studied the board for a long time afterwards, and the frequent clicking of his clock and his fingers against the table rung around in her head. She wanted him to make his move for her own sanity. He did make the move that she had hoped, pushing his king bishop pawn up to attack the rook. When he pressed the button of her clock, his eyes didn’t lift up to look at her. 

She picked up her bishop and took his pawn, offering a sacrifice. When she saw the referee move the piece on the big board, she couldn’t ignore the whispers that she heard from the spectators, obviously not expecting her to have made that move. Volkov couldn’t just ignore her bishop, and whilst he looked at it and he tapped his fingers along the table she knew that she had him exactly where she wanted him. He looked at the board for another twenty-three seconds exactly before he stood up and held out his hand to her. Grinning slightly, YN rose and took his hand. There wasn’t a single sound from the audience. What shocked her was the fact that the director of the whole thing walked over and also shook her head, as though it was a right of passage for her to leave. She did so with a smile, just to be nice but didn’t hesitate to walk away with a smile on her face and a relieved sigh leaving her lips. 

Dinner that night was a fancy one that YN and Harry had been invited to by the English Embassy in Russia. Harry and herself walked into the lobby of the hotel, her arm in his and small smiles upon their faces. YN had returned after her game to be greeted by a loving kiss from Harry in the doorway of their hotel room and immediately made herself busy by getting ready for the meal they were about to go to. She had curled her hair and pinned a few pieces back so they weren’t in her face, added some light make-up to her skin and dressed in one of the prettiest dresses she had ever laid her eyes on. The dress itself was a velvet material, royal blue in colour and with a plunging neckline that gave ample cleavage to anyone who dared to look — mainly Harry — and the sleeves came to her elbow with two scrunches and then a flare at the end. She loved how the material looked upon her body, she couldn’t help it. It was gorgeous. Harry was wearing a black suit, with a lace shirt tucked into his trousers. As a pair, the two of them looked unstoppable and she wouldn’t be surprised if people felt a little intimidated by them. She would if she saw them. 

“Do you have any idea who we’re meeting?” Harry asked as they stood by the entrance to the restaurant, his eyes looking around all of the people there just to see if he had any incline by looks to who they were supposed to be having a meal with. 

“All I know are names.” She shrugged, moving a piece of his hair off of his forehead as they waited for the slight queue in front of them to go down, “Patricia Taylor, Nathaniel Baker and Reece William.” 

He raises his eyebrow, “They sound like a treat.” 

She thwacks him on the arm and shakes her head, “We haven’t even met them yet. We can’t be making any judgements yet.” 

“I’m not judging. . .” He shakes his head, “I’m just. . . stating the obvious.” 

“Yeah.” She tilts her head, “We can leave that for another time.” 

The waiter who stands at the door asks them for their name, and the reservation and in sort of broken Russian and English that the man can just pick up on, they find themselves making their way over to a table that three people are already sat at. They aren’t late, because YN made sure of it, so she guesses that they’re just really early. It’s the easiest explanation of why they’re already there. The waiter himself didn’t look a day over sixteen, and he asked them for their drink order the second they sat down. Harry ordered something that she didn’t quite pick up on and YN ordered a lime and lemon, just lime cordial and lemonade — not wanting to get herself into a position that she would regret and not be able to get herself out of. 

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, YN.” One of the men who had introduced himself as Nathanial spoke, “We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

She smiles, “Good things I hope.” 

“Good things. . . yeah.” 

All of a sudden small baskets of bread and little dishes of butter and what looks like caviar and sour cream are placed down on the table. She looks at them for a moment, and then looks at Harry and he has a slight grin on his face. She watches as the other people at the table tuck in to everything to offer, whilst YN just butters herself one slice of bread and takes a few bites out of it. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry, because she was starving if she was completely honest, it was more so that there were still nerves bubbling in the pit of her stomach about this whole ordeal that made it so she wasn’t quite ready to start tucking in just yet. 

The men and woman looked very put together, and they were able to mutter things in Russian that the two of them didn’t understand. They often shared glances that let the two of them know that they’re okay, and also that they both feel more uncomfortable here than they every had within anything to do with chess. The waiter reappears with their drinks upon a tray, as well as a pitcher of a clear liquid and a few small glasses. 

“Vodka?” 

“Nyet.” 

The whole thing was a little off putting to her, and the way that Harry’s fingers messed with hers on his lap. YN couldn’t understand the point of inviting the two of them for a meal to then ignore them and speak in a language that neither one could understand. It was boring and just outright rude, but she wasn’t going to say that to them. She wasn’t rude, and she certainly wasn’t going to stoop down to their level just to get some conversation out of them. 

“YN.” They finally spoke to them, and YN didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed still. It was Patricia who had spoken to her, “How long have you and Harry been together?” 

YN tried not to roll her eyes, and slipped her fingers through Harry’s, “Uhh. . . a few months or so.” 

“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow, “Not that long, then?” 

“No.” YN shakes her head, “But we’ve been friends for quite a while now, opponents beforehand.” 

“When did that change?” YN really couldn’t understand why this woman was interested in their love life so much, “I mean, I thought opponents were supposed to stay opponents.” 

“They are.” Harry says, “And we were, we were just friends and then something more whilst we did it.” 

The dinner continued to be a bore, and she focused on the food that she was eating and the company of the man next to her rather than anything else around her. She knew that this was necessary and the ECA had asked her to go to the meal and she wasn’t going to say no to the people who have paid her a hefty sum of money over the past year. She did learn after the meal, when she and Harry were making their way back, that Kuznestov had won his game and the other players had drawn. She’d learnt that her opponent tomorrow would be Nikolaev, which she wouldn’t say that she was worried about but she would certainly say that she had to get some sleep and make sure that she was fully prepared for what she was about to play tomorrow. It was certainly going to be an experience to say the least. 

She entered the stage the exact same way that she had the day prior, and there was a larger cheer when she walked across the stage when she moved this time. That was surprising to her, maybe people were starting to learn who she was or Harry’s voice had just gotten louder and louder over the last twenty-four hours. She was playing white against Nikolaev, and a part of was thankful that was the case, but it also wasn’t the case because she knew that she’d be able to win him even if she played black. 

On the eleventh move Nikolaev made an error in his judgement, and she made no hesitation to pounce on it, pinning his knight in front of a rook. It would keep him there for a moment whilst she figured out a way to get out her other bishop. From studying his games with Harry, she knew that he was cautious and strings in the defense movements he made, and that was why in a spur of the moment thing she decided to wait until she had the chance to overwhelm him. By the sixteenth move she had both of her bishops on his king, and on the twentieth she had both of the diagonals open. At the start he hid from it, using his knights to hold her off but she brought out her queen and he knew then that there was no way back for him. 

By the twenty-second move he was trying to ward her off but he just couldn’t and by the twenty-fifth he had resigned. The game wasn’t even over an hour long. Everyone else was still playing and she had finished, and words couldn’t explain how good it felt to know that. She walked away from the table, past Kuznestov’s table and saw that he was still playing. Her face broke out into a smile as she walked, feeling so proud of herself that she actually had a skip in her step as she moved. 

Harry met her outside of the stage with a kiss on her lips, and she couldn’t help but smile into it. They ate a sandwich for their lunch, and then decided to take a walk outside of the hotel. They walked down a boulevard and then down a narrow street towards a park. There was a bit of traffic on the road but nothing that they couldn’t manoeuvre if they weren’t ever so careful about it. There were large groups of pedestrians on the pavements, but none of them said anything and only a few offered them a small smile. The sun was shining on the day, even though it was quite cold outside and the two of them stayed pressed up against each other but it was beautiful. 

The park they found themselves in was nestled between the enormous buildings around them. There were benches that people were sat on, and a few of them stared as they walked past. She didn’t focus on it too much, but a part of her couldn’t help but doing so. They soon found themselves in a square surrounded by trees and flowers and everything that made a lovely park. What surprised her more than anything, were the people seated on the paths playing chess of all things. YN looked to Harry and he held the same exact shocked look on his face that she had. 

The men that were playing were mainly old, and from the looks of what she could see they played very old school chess but YN really didn’t mind, just seeing all these people who could be doing anything they wanted but they weren’t and instead they were playing chess made her tummy flutter with excitement. They walked past the tables slowly, just so that she could look at some of the positions that they were in whilst she did so. There were a few that she recognised from some of the books that she learnt to play from, and others from games that she played. They didn’t have clocks, and it seemed as though they were truly just playing the game for the fun of playing chess — something that could often be lost when she played the games for the stakes that she did. 

“I can’t believe it.” Harry muttered, shaking his head in shock as he looked at her, “They’re playing chess.” 

“I know.” She grinned, “I knew it was big over here but I didn’t know that they just played in parks, just like this.” 

“I almost makes it seem fun.” He chuckles. 

She nudges his shoulder with hers, “Don’t be like that. It is fun. You’ll find that again, I promise you.” 

“I always thought that I’d be like this when I was younger.” He explains, their hands swinging between them, “That I’d play chess all of my life and then when I was old just play it because I loved it. Not for the money, not for the publicity it gets. Just because I love it.” 

“That can still happen.” She squeezes his hand, “I swear to you Harry, we can make that a reality.” 

“Chess helped me through some of the hardest times in my life, because even though it was the root of many of them, it was also the thing that helped me through it.” He explains, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I want to do something. I don’t know what exactly it is yet, but something that can use Chess to help people, and young people for that matter, who need it by focusing their mind on something else.” 

After a few seconds YN smiles, “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Harry.” 

“You do?” His whole face lights up. 

“I do.” She nods her head, “People need something like that, and who better than you to help them with that.” 

“Who better than us.” He says with a smile, “Us. It won’t just be me, YN. It’ll be both of us.” 

“Us, then.” She grins and he quickly pecks her lips. 

The games that she had next were with Solovyov and Titov. Both of them were gruelling and exhausting and by the end of them YN didn’t know how she could keep her eyes open, but she never found herself falling into a position where she could loose her winning streak, and for that she was thankful. The work that she had done with Harry over the past few months gave her strength in her already strong opening moves, and she even managed to maintain them throughout the middle games and until the point where both of them had no other optimum but to resign. 

Solovyov resigned with dignity, and gracefully shook her hand and did everything that someone who has been playing chess a long time does when they realise that they can’t get themselves out of whatever mess they’re in. Titov didn’t take it as well and he didn’t say anything to her, and he didn’t even shake her hand. She was used to it, so that from him didn’t make any change to what she felt about him. She had to play seven games in all, and she had known this from the first day but it didn’t make it any less daunting the more that she thought about it. She knew that on the last day she would be playing white against Kuznestov, and she knew that was what she needed to do was play the games well so that she would make it to that game relatively unfazed. 

She wasn’t playing Kuznestov today though, she was playing black against Golubev. He was the oldest player there, and YN remembers playing her game when she was little. He had won the World Championships years before she was born, and now here he was. He was an icon in the chess world and a part of her felt lucky to say that she was going to sit across from him and play his games. He was an amazing player and even better man, and she knew that she would have to be ever so careful whilst she was playing him. She would be though, because she always was when things were at stake. 

They were playing at the first table today, the one that Kuznestov had played all of his previous games at during this Championship and a part of her was excited by that. Golubev bowed when he walked over and then took his seat. He was wearing a maroon suit that looked highly expensive, but she knew that if anybody could afford to buy a suit like that it would be him — he was loaded. YN’s long forest-green skirt and black turtle neck looked like nothing compared to it, and a part of her genuinely thought that she had looked amazing when she walked out of the hotel room earlier. Harry certainly complemented it. 

He was ready to attack by the eleventh move, subtly but YN noticed it. He moved his pawn to queen rook three. Thirty-five minutes later he had a heavy pawn defense on the queenside and she had to delay what she was planning to do so that she could deal with it. She had to study the board, and a part of her certainly wasn’t happy that he had made that move but she knew that it had to be done. She lifted her eyes upon to look at him, and he was smiling. It was almost as though he was happy with what he was doing. 

He continued to advance his knights pawn as if to ignore where she was with her knight. A part of her couldn’t understand it, and she couldn’t figure out what he was doing. She had to find a way out of the trap that she found herself in, because if she didn’t then she would have to take the rook pawn with her knight and four moves down he would be able to attack her queenside and pick off her queen rook in exchange for it. It wasn’t an exchange that she would be happy with if in a few moves he would be able to do it. 

She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table, her cheeks resting against her clenched fists. She knew that she could work this out if she tried hard enough. She could hear the clicking of the clock getting louder and louder as she continued to study, flicking through every combination of move that she could see until there was nothing. She had to give the exchange and get his rook pawn as consolidation. It meant he would still be attacking her queenside, and she wasn’t too fond of that. She was too stupid to have seen it actually coming and she hated it. 

YN pushed up her queen rook pawn and watched the moves play out. He took the rook for his bishop some moves later and she couldn’t help but have a little bit of her die inside when she saw it happening. She knew that it would have to in her head but seeing it was a completely different thing. She took the rook pawn two moves later, but it offered her very little help for everything else that she was doing. She had fallen behind, and she didn’t really know what else to do. 

Stopping his advance of pawns on the queenside was enough for her to want to rip her own hair out. She had to return the pawn she had taken from him, and he was doubling his rooks on the king file. There was no way that he was going to let up. She made a threat towards his king to cover up the fact that she was trying to trade his rook for her remaining one. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to ride whilst she was down but she had no option but do so. She had to. 

By the middle game they were both entrenched with every piece supported at least once and a few of them twice. She tried her hardest to avoid trades so that she could find a wedge that could bring her back even but he countered everything that she attempted. The intervals between each moves were long, and there was an opportunity down the line that she wouldn’t be able to bring herself back. She knew that she would have to at some point. 

A few moves later he had brought his rook to the third rank and put it above his castled king, limiting its movement to to three squares. If she found a way to trap it before he lifted the knight, it would put her in a stronger position than the one that she was in. Flicking through the play in her hair, she couldn’t find anything that would be able to help them and she wasn’t happy about that. She felt dizzy and she pulled her elbows off the table and leant back so that she could look at her clock. She had less than fifteen minutes. She had to make her move quickly or there was no way that she’d be able to recover from it. She moved her knight to knight five, a strong move but one that didn’t really help her in any way. His reply was as expected and it forced her to bring the knight back to king four where she had wanted to put it in the first place. She didn’t have much time left on her clock and she made sure to study the board in the time that she had left. He moved the rook move that she had known he would and she made her move. He advanced his pawn just as YN had expected. 

From finding that move in such a short amount of time, a part of her was thankful that she had done it because it gave her the hope that she might be able to recover the game in front of her. She needed to do so to win. Golubev was ahead, and the two of them knew that but he had a rook that she had to contend with and she could use it against him. If she could bring it off, she could exchange a bishop for it and even the score. She started to work quickly on that. It was difficult and long but he seemed to be ready for it, obviously having studied it ob the board himself. She pulled the bishop away from the diagonal his rook was on and hoped that he wouldn't see what she was planning. It would look as though she was attacking his pawn formation, forcing him to weakly advance. She wasn’t even a little bit concerned with his pawn positions, all she could think about was getting the rook off of the board. 

Golubev pushed up his pawn. In her head she knew that he should’ve thought about it longer, but he didn’t. He made the mistake and moved the pawn. She felt an excitement in her stomach that she hadn’t felt at all during this game, She took the knight off of the diagonal and put it on queen bishop five, offering it to this queen. If he took that move she would be able to take the rook with her bishop. He hadn’t even noticed that in the mist of all of this, making the move he wanted meant that she would get his knight in return for the queen move. She felt unstoppable. She looked up at him with a smile upon her face. 

He looked over the board for half an hour and found nothing. He then took the knight, and she was finally able to take the rook. He took her bishop and she checked him. The game was even know, and they both knew that there wasn’t going to be a lot left of the game anymore. There wasn’t a clear reason for him to resign, and his queenside pawns were evenly placed, but she attacked them and his remaining bishop, forcing him to bring up his queen to hold onto his pawns together. She knew that she would have him, and she now had to focus her attention completely on his king. 

She had twenty-seven minutes left on her clock and Golubev almost had an hour but she wasn’t going to let that effect her. She brought her rook pawn up to the fourth rank, announcing her intentions and he had no option but to move. She worked out each variation of moves he may make trying to find an answer to them, and she finally did when he made his move of bringing his queen to protect. She ignored the chance to grab one of his pawns and advanced her rook pawn one more square. It was an amazing move, and she certainly knew it and it was almost as though he knew it as well. 

He looked over the board fora few more minutes, as though he was contemplating what he was going to do. Then, he lifted his eyes up to her, looked at the board briefly again and then smiled. 

“That was amazing.” The words came out of his lips in a thick Russian accent that she certainly should’ve expected but it still shocked her, “I’ve never seen someone recover from something like that so well before.” 

YN can’t help but smile at his words, agreeing with him and starting to feel more proud of herself. She watches as he reached forward and grasped the the top of his king and tilted it over to its side. 

“I resign.” 

They shook hands, and YN’s never seen it happen so warmly from someone before that wasn’t Harry, “I’ve always played your games. I learnt chess playing your games.” 

“Don’t.” He shakes his head, “You’ll only make me feel old.” 

“I don’t mean to.” She smiles. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head, “You’re a marvel, dear. Don’t ever forget that.” 

When she had walked into the hotel lobby, she felt arms wrap around her waist and spin her around. She couldn’t help the squeal that left her lips as he did so, and she noticed the watchful eyes of other people in the lobby once the culprit had put her down. She wasn’t surprised that it was Harry. 

“I’m so proud of you.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, “So proud.” 

She turns two him with furrowed eyebrows, “Did you not think I could win it, or something?” 

“Of course I thought you could win.” He brushes it off but she raises one of her eyebrows, “Okay maybe I was a bit nervous when I woke up this morning, and when you were loosing — but you brought it back!” 

“I know I did.” She tuts, “At least I believed in myself.” 

“I always believed in you, YN.” He shook his head, “I was just a little. . . nervous.” 

“You don’t need to be nervous about that game.” She says, slipping her hand into his, “You need to be nervous about Kuznestov because I certainly am.” 

“Nah.” He shakes his head and lifts the back of his hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to it, “We don’t need to be. You’ll be fine.” 

“How are you so sure?” She asks. 

“I just know.” 

When they walked back up to the room, YN immediately drew herself a bath to relax her muscles. Harry ordered some food and he sat and ate what he ordered. He did ask to join but she decided against it saying that she needed the time to relax and she understood. The fact that in a few days she would be playing Kuznestov laid heavy on her chest, and no matter how many times she tried to knock the idea out of her head, she just couldn’t seem to do it. She wasn’t too worried, but there was a part of her that knew that it could any which way and it was just a case of her knowing what to do. 

She walked out of the bathroom half an hour later with just her towel wrapped around her, and smiled at the sight of Harry sat on the bed with a book in his hands. It was one of the books that she had given him from her grandfather’s collection, and she couldn’t be happier that the book came to a person that would enjoy it. He looked up at her over the book and raised his eyebrows, and she raised hers back. She walked over to her suitcase and started to shift through the clothes that she had in it, trying to decide what she wanted to put on so that she could sit and go through some games. 

She’s about to do that when she hears a loud groan coming from the man behind her. 

“What?” She flips around to look at him, and the book was now abandoned on his chest, “What is it?” 

“You can’t walk out here like that and then put on clothes.” 

“Oh, really?” She asks, “Is my lack of clothes sparking the teenage boy in you again? 

“It is.” He pouts, opening his arms for her, “I can’t help it.” 

“Well.” She sighs, “I better do something about it then shouldn’t I?”

She climbs onto the bed and straddles his hips, her hands slipping underneath the material of his shirt and onto his stomach. She can feel it tensing and relaxing beneath her. He grins up at her. 

“You should.” 

And she does. She leans forward and kisses him, her hands gripping his waist as she did so. She would never, ever get board of kissing him no matter how many times they did. He kissed her back almost instantly, not even an ounce of hesitation on him. He made sure that the kiss wasn’t quick like she had intended it to be, and she draws it out. He coaxed her lips further apart, being able to slide his tongue into her mouth. It’s so familiar, and so comfortable that it was like almost second nature to them. What was just a nice kiss between the two of them soon turned into an urgent and messy kiss. 

“Fucking addictive.” He mumbles as he pulls away, “Could never get enough of you.” 

The two of them are panting against each other, and she moves her hands up to his hair so that she can grip it slightly, “I never want you too.” 

She slips her hands down to grip the collar of his shirt, placing her lips back on his. The only sound either one of them could hear was their laboured breathing. They often had to pull away slightly to catch their breath, but it didn’t stop him from dragging his nails down her back, pushing the towel that she had around her down so that she was exposed to him. His hands rested upon her hips and squeezed the flesh, just like he always did and just like she wanted him to do. They never pulled away. They stayed there, with their lips against each others and their hands all over each other. 

“Are you sure you can be doing this?” He says against her lips. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” He asks. 

“It can wait.” 

Her lips are back against his and she’s moaning into his mouth when his hands fall to her arse, squeezing the flesh. He buried one of his hands in her hair and tilted her head, allowing him to kiss into her mouth again. A smile crossed her lips as he did so. He fumbles with the towel on her body and pulls it off, throwing it a direction that she doesn’t know. He thrusted his hips upwards towards her, and she could feel how hard he was against her. 

“Fucking hell.” He moaned into her mouth, “You’re soaking me.” 

It was impossible not to moan against his lips, but it was cut short when Harry flipped them over so that she was laid on the bed and he was hovering above her. There was something to her about being with him like that made her feel as though her entire body was on fire, and it was only ever put out when he touched her which he was doing, and she wouldn’t tell him stop when he was making her feel the way that he was. He started to kiss her again, this time moving them down from her lips to her neck and then down to her chest. 

She closed her eyes when she felt him press his tongue over her nipple, circling it with her tongue. She arched her back off of the bed, feeling the need and the want for more and more from him. He knew exactly the right spots to make her toes curl and have her withering beneath him, just like he was now. He continued to move his tongue over her nipple, and she gripped his hair in encouragement. 

“I fucking love you.” He places his hand upon the outside of her thigh, “No two ways about it.” 

She grips down on her bottom lip to stop anymore sounds from escaping her lips, even though she knew that probably wasn’t what Harry wanted, but YN couldn’t help herself. She started to rock her hips up to him, letting him know that she was ready for him, He needed to know that she was ready for him. 

“That’s good.” She grinned, “Because I love you too.” 

He pecked her nipple again, wrapping his lips around it briefly before he started to kiss lower and lower down her stomach, closer and closer to the place where she was absolutely dripping for him. 

“What do you want, baby?” He muttered against her stomach, wanting nothing more than to do everything under the sun but he knew that he had to be patient, “Tell me. I want you to say it.” 

Her breath is shaky, and she doesn’t know how she’s managing to keep herself together but somehow she is, “I want you to fuck me.” 

“How?” 

“On top.” She lifted his hips off the bed, “I want you on top.” 

“Your wish is my command.” 

She watched as he unzipped his trousers, the sound of his belt sending her heart beating in her chest quickly. He takes his trousers off as well as his boxers, taking his time to truly tease her. YN bites her lip as she watches him pull his shirt over his head, revealing not only his tattoos but the train of hair that leads down to between his legs. She couldn’t stop the small giggle that escapes her lips.

“What are you giggling at?” 

“Nothing. . .” She shakes her head, “Nothing!” 

“Yeah.” He kneels back on the bed, “We’ll see if you’ll be laughing in a minute.” 

Harry leaned over her, his face hovering above hers as he looked down between them. She could feel him on her thigh, and her inside started twist. She watches as he slips his hand down the front of him and grips his cock in his hand, bringing it to her entrance. He back arched up off the bed again, and she moaned into his mouth as he kissed her again. He started moving himself in, slowly to start with and then more so so as time went on. 

“Fucking, shit.” He muttered the words through his teeth, trying to mask the moan that would escape if he didn’t keep them clamped shut.

YN couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips, wrapping her arm around his shoulders so that she could have something to grip on to. She lifted her knee slightly so that she could spread her legs and give him better access. When she moaned, Harry couldn’t help but pick up the pace of his hips, moving them in and out for her. 

“Keep going.” She moaned into his ear, her eyes clamped closed, “Go faster.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

She chuckled slightly, squeezing his shoulders as she could feel her stomach tightening with every move that he made. She was addicted to it. More so than anything else in her life. She continued to focus on her climax, his hands resting on the pillows by her bed. The sound of their heavy breathing was now masked with the sound of their flesh against each other, and the occasional moan or groan that escaped their lips. 

As much as they would love to be slow and sweet with each other, they just aren’t physically able to. They couldn’t stop themselves from being hard and quick with each other, but it made them the way that they were together. For the amount of time they were with each other, they focus on one and another and making themselves feel like the best in the world. It was just how it was with them. Harry’s grip on her skin tightened and the loud moan that escapes her lips as she’s pushed closer and closer to her orgasm. 

“Feel so good, YN.” He mumbled against her lips, “The fucking best.” 

YN arched her back again, her chest colliding with his and he continued to moved with each other, in one rhythm and with the feeling of bliss washing over both of their bodies. She couldn’t understand how being like this with someone could melt away everything else that she had to worry about until it was nothing. Her grip on his shoulders tightened more and more and she could feel her insides twisting, as he thrust himself forward and back. She moved her thighs so that they were behind him, helping to thrust his hips forward to her. She could feel her orgasm coming on and she clamped her teeth on her bottom lip, not wanting to be too loud because she knew that there are other people in the hotel and she didn’t want to be too noisy. 

“Be loud.” Harry seemed to know everything that she was thinking and a part of her hated that, “Let them hear.” 

“Are you sure?” She mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing, 

“I’m positive.” He kisses her cheek, “Come, baby.” 

YN dug her nails into the flesh of his back as she came, it overruling her body quicker than she could’ve caught up with. His name escapes her lips in a string of moans, and she physically can’t control how loud she is because of how it feels. Harry came not long after her, spilling into her. She watches his face, unable to bring her eyes away from him, and the small furrow between his brow. Their chests were heaving up and down from how mind-blowing its was, and she never wanted it to stop. 

“I love you.” She runs her fingers through his hair, “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” He grins, pushing her hair off her face. His becomes quite serious all of a sudden, “I hope you know that you’re going to win this thing.” 

“We don’t know that Harry.” She smiles, “We just hope.” 

“Then I’m hoping a whole lot.” 

A few days later she found herself walking onto the stage about to play against Kuznestov, somebody who she used to read to prepare for her games. It truly felt insane to her that she’s sat across from someone who she used to learn about in order to plat in tournaments well and now she was here trying to win his title. She hoped that he wasn’t too annoyed with her. 

She was playing white, which certainly gave her a nice advantage. She would have to hang on to that advantage if it was the last thing that she did. She would play the Queen’s Gambit, because playing the Sicilian against him just didn’t seem like the best option. Her best option was to try and get him to make a mistake, it was all that she could hope for. There was an applause from the audience as they both walked out, and she knew that it was going to be now or never. This was it. She had played through all of these tournaments, practiced for hours upon hours and all she had to do was make sure that she didn’t mess up and that she won. It was certainly going to be easier said then done. 

The referee pushed the button, and her clock started. YN moved her pawn to queen four and looked down at the pieces. She wouldn’t look at his face, not yet. He moved his pawn to queen four, and she responded by playing pawn to queen bishop four, offering it as a gambit, but he declined, moving his pawn to king four. She took the pawn, and he played pawn to queen five. He looked up at his face and it was completely calm, as though he wasn’t nervous and nothing at all was worrying him. She hoped that she could feel like that at some point but she knew that would be a long way away. She continued by playing her king’s knight and he played his queen’s and the play continued. 

The seventh move he played surprised her more than she had expected it to, and it was obviously something that he had thought to spring on her. She responded and was glad to get him out in the open, it would make it easy for their dance. By the fifteenth move they had equality, and he maybe had an edge. She knew that if she was to win she would have to continue developing her pieces, opening files when she had the opportunity of physically anything that she could do that would give her the edge that she needed. If she let his rook out, it would tear her apart. If he allowed her queen to move to the bishop file his king’s protection would topple. She wouldn’t let his bishop to check. He didn’t look at her the entire time that he was looking over the board, and then he moved his knight to bishop five. If she could have chosen a move for him to make, it would’ve have been that move. She pushed her rook pawn a square forward. 

The next few months ran swimmingly but before she knew it he brought his remaining rook to the centre and she felt her stomach sink. She hadn’t thought of this when she moved through all of the movements in her head that he could make. It was almost as though she was back to square one again. She took her eyes away from the board briefly so that she could figure out how to do something about the rook. It was staring at her in the face and she knew that at some point she would have to do something. It sat on a black square and her bishop would be gone. Three moves of her knight would get her near enough but it was too long. She couldn’t use a pawn and she couldn’t use her own rook because it was in its corner, not having been moved. Her only option was her queen, and she’d have to find a safe way to move it because it truly was her only option. 

She leant her cheeks against her fists and looked all over the board. She could move it nine squares in one direction, three in another. Each one looked weak, so she started to examine all of the in-between squares, finally falling upon king knight five. If the queen was there it meant he could swing his room under and occupy the file. She couldn’t do that. No check was possible without her bishop but after that she could attack the queen with her knight. He would have to put it on one of the black squares, and that would start something. She could drive the queen into a king-queen fork with the knight. He would ate her queen afterwards but she would still be down a bishop. She would be able to take his bishop with her knight and it would be equal again, and then she could threaten the rook. 

She moved the queen. He brought his rook under it and with no hesitation did she pick up her bishop and bring it out to check. She was waiting for his queen to take it. She didn’t know whether she had missed something by the way he looked at the board, but she certainly knew that she hadn’t when he muttered the word, “Draw?” 

She looked down at the board for a second and contemplated the word in her mind. Taking the draw would meant that she would be a co-champion again, and that wasn’t really what she was looking for. She was looking to win the entire thing, and she knew that she could do it, especially now that he was so scared to even continue to the point where he had asked her those words. 

“No.” She shrugged, “Sorry.” 

He himself shrugged and took the bishop. She attacked his queen wither her knight and he moved it where he had to and brought the knight up. He moved the king and she lifted his queen up from the board. He took hers also. She attacked the rook and moved it back a square. That was the whole point of the sequence and now that she had done it she was unsure what to do next. She knew that every move that she had to make needed to be strategic. There wasn’t the opportunity to not be strategic with it. She needed to win. 

Unlike all of the other games she played, she couldn’t hear the ticking of her clock. She silently looked over the board and looked at what she could do. If this carried on how it was going, it would be mate in nineteen or so moves. She reached forward and moved her king pawn to the fifth rank. Kuznestov advanced his king to stop the pawn and she advanced her knight forcing him to protect. She moved the pieces with a new found speed, but his started to slower. When she had finished threatening, she moved a pawn to a sixth rank. His expression didn’t change and hers didn’t either. 

When she advanced the pawn to the seventh rank, he grunted. He let out an actual, physical grunt and she didn’t know what to do about it. He took his time to move his knight to block it. She didn’t look at him when she picked up the knight and set it down, because she knew that was it. The moment he let out another grunt her heart started to beat quicker and quicker within her chest. 

“You’ve done it.” In one movement, his king was on its side. 

The applause was almost deafening, and she knew that the majority of it would have probably been Harry. They were standing and clapping for her. They were making that sound for her. YN genuinely couldn’t believe that she had won, and in a time that she couldn’t help but be proud of. She had won.

She was the World Chess Champion. 

All of the time that she and Harry had spent preparing, every little second of it was so they could make it to this moment — to the moment where she won. She couldn’t have done this without him, and she hopes that he knows that. She stands up with a smile and turns around, immediately spotting him on the front row. She can’t help it when her feet drift towards him. He smiles and opens his arms so that he can catch her body as she basically plummets it at him. She chuckles into her ear and lifts her up slightly, before pulling her away so that he could press a kiss to her lips. It was a kiss that celebrated so many things, but more importantly it celebrated them. The two of them together and what they have achieved. 

“I did it.” She grins once she pulls away. 

“I always knew that you would.” He places her back down again, “I never doubted you, not even for a second.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t.” She grins, with a roll of her eyes.

“I didn’t!” She exclaims, “Well, not a lot.” 

“I don’t care, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his neck, “I knew that it was going to be hard and I’m absolutely certain that I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” 

“You would.” He shakes his head, “You have the talent for it, I just helped you bring it out.” 

“You helped me in more ways than that.” 

“Oh yeah?” He raises one of his eyebrows, “Care to explain.” 

“Another time.” He chuckles. 

She pulls away and looks at him, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck, “Can I say something, and it might be a little cheesy?” 

“Of course you can.” He smiles. 

“I really do love you so much, I feel like I’ve won more than just a Championship because I’ve won you. You’re the check to my mate.”

He grins, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “We’re checkmate, baby, I’ve always know that.” 

One Year Later 

A year ago today YN was in Russia, winning the World Championship as the younger ever contestant there. When she had won, she hadn’t thought of anything other than the fact that she had, and she certainly didn’t think of everything that was going to follow. She was plummeted into a year of interviews, and photoshoots and recognition that she didn’t know what to do with. Everyone knew about her, and it wasn’t just the chess players of the world anymore, it was everyone. 

It did start off with the interviews being in the chess world, which she had expected, but then the entire country seemed to realise who she was and she was asked to do interviews on national television and in magazines that everyone would read and not just people that knew about chess. That did cause nerves to bubble within her, but everyone was lovely (for the majority) and there wasn’t anything for her to be nervous about. She loved reading about how many people were now playing chess because of her, women and men to the point where she couldn’t understand how herself just being herself caused them to want to play the very game that they did. It was baffling to her. 

As well as all of the chess in her life changing drastically, everything else about her life changed drastically also. She moved in with Harry, which wasn’t too much of a shock to everyone who knew but it certainly started to make everything more real between the two of them. Her things weren’t in a suitcase anymore, or in boxes, but they were laid out. She had space in the bathroom cupboard, she had her own wardrobe space and her little knickknacks that she wouldn’t let go of now were dotted around his house.  The most drastic change certainly had to be the fact that they now had a bath that they had installed because it made it theirs. 

Words really couldn’t describe how much she loved that man. 

Over the past year or so, the best thing that had happened to them was their Chess School. They originally spoke about it on their trip to Russia, and the second they made it home they started to plan it and look at places that they could buy. Harry had enough savings, and from the money that YN had made from the championships and the appearances she was making, they were able to gather enough money to put their deposit down on a building that the rented. It wasn’t huge, and it only had two rooms but they promised each other that when they made a little more money they would buy some place bigger and better for them to turn into a proper school.

The building itself looked a little out of place on the street it was on, and there were only two rooms in the entire thing — one that was the classroom and the other that YN had lovingly dubbed: ‘the safe hub away from children.’ YN did like children, she wouldn’t have started the school if she didn’t, but she wasn’t a very patient person and to teach loads of young children how to play chess wasn’t exactly in her agenda. YN knew that she was better with the older kids and that’s why she found herself being more comfortable teaching them than teaching the youngest kids that they have in their midst. 

Today was a little different than any other day, though, just because of what it was commemorating. Instead of getting and ready and going to the Chess School, YN found herself having to go to the ECA for an interview to commemorate the last year and let her ‘fans’ know what she had been up to. She found all of it a little off putting, and she doesn’t know how many times she’s going to be able to carry on sitting through interviews where they care more about what she’s doing with Harry than their chess. All in all, it had been quite the long day and she wanted nothing more than to return home, snuggle up on the sofa with Harry and eat her annoyance away with Chinese food. 

When she did return home though, and she called out Harry’s name into the house, she didn’t receive any response, which did confuse her. The school was open, but Harry usually closed up when it was just him at four so he had time to get home and make sure that he was home for your arrival back. That’s why YN was quite surprised when she walked through the door of the house and saw no lights on and no Harry anywhere. However, when she walked into the kitchen she did find a note, one that was folded and her name scribbled on in Harry’s very particular handwriting. 

Opening it, she couldn’t help the smile at the writing that was scribbled inside: 

Come to the school. I’m waiting for you. I love you. H. 

YN wasted no time in getting herself to the school, maybe going a little bit over the speed limit but that didn’t really matter. When it came to things like this all of the patience that she has evaporates and she’s left wishing that someone would just tell her what was happening so that she wouldn’t to conspire any more. 

From the outside, the school looked as though it was locked, and that nobody was going in and nobody was going out but when she walked up to the front door, she realised that the door was open but there still weren’t any lights on inside. 

“Harry?” The door shut behind her and she could feel her heart starting to beat faster than it already was in her chest, “Are you there? If you’re planning on jump scaring me I won’t be happy.” 

“In here!” 

YN instantly feels herself relax at the sound of his voice, and her feet carry her quickly in the direction that it had come from. He was in the main room, she could see that now. The entire room was lit up with what felt like to be hundreds of candles all around a lot of chess boards, she couldn’t even count how many there actually was. YN found herself raising her eyebrow at him, throwing him a quizzical look. 

“What’s all of this?” She asks, taking a step forward. 

He was dressed in a suit, a beige one with a thinly striped shirt and a dotted tie, one that she had definitely seen before but she couldn’t quite pinpoint where. 

“I have a question to ask you.” 

She furrows her eyebrows at him, “Could you not have asked me it at home?” 

“No.” He shakes his head, a small smile dancing over his lips. 

“Well.” She takes another step forward, “What is it?” 

“Why don’t you look for yourself?” 

His hand motions to the boards set up in front of him, all in a row and all with a very special message on them. She moves forward so that she can look over all of them individually. She can feel the tears starting to well up in her eyes, the feeling becoming almost overwhelming and she knows that at some point if she isn’t careful a sob could leave her lips and make this situation a whole lot more embarrassing that it was. 

The first four boards had the letters: W, I, L and L written on them. Will. 

The next three boards had the letters: Y, O, and U written on them. You. 

The next five boards had the letters: M, A, R, R and Y written on them. Marry. 

The last two boards had the letters; M and E written on them. Me. 

Every breath that YN takes she feels as though the whole world is slowing around her, and all she can think about is the letters she’s looking at, all made using chess pieces, the thing that they love the most apart from each other, asking her a question that she never, ever in her life thought that she’d ever hear. 

A part of it was that she didn’t think she deserved to have a love that she would call everlasting, the love that means a person wanted nothing more than to marry her. She never thought that she’d get that. YN did see love like that when she was growing up with her grandparents, and a part of her like any child would thought that maybe one day she’d get to love someone like that but she never thought that somebody would love her in that way. Of course it had crossed her mind whilst she was with Harry the subject of marriage but because he never mentioned it to her, she automatically just thought that he didn’t want to marry her and she was okay with that. She had to be okay with that because that was what she thought. 

It turned out that she was really, really wrong and that really wasn’t the case. 

Her eyes floated up from the board to where she thought Harry would be stood but he wasn’t, he was down on one knee in front of her with a box open in his hand. A tear run downs her cheek, and she swears that it was a happy tear, she promises that it was. 

“YN.” She nods her head a few times, moving fast so that she fears that she might give herself whiplash, “I know that we haven’t been together for the longest time, and I know that the start of our relationship wasn’t the most conventional but it was ours and we had that.” He hesitates for a second to let out a long sigh, “I know that you love me, and you know that I love you more than anything in this world. I know we haven’t spoken about marriage before and I’m now really hoping that you aren’t against marriage because if you are I’ll look like a right twat—”

“Harry.” She interrupts and he hums, “Breathe.” 

He lets out a deep breath before continuing, “I know that I’m not the best with words the majority of the time and that’s probably why I haven’t asked you this before, or about this before but. . . YN YLN, will you marry me?” 

She doesn’t even hesitate, and she’s nodding her head again and muttering, “Yes!” over and over again. 

To YN it doesn’t seem real, certainly not true that he’s saying this to her and asking her this question but as he walks over and slips the ring onto her finger and she looks down at it, she knows that it is. It is real, and Harry had just asked her to marry him. To marry him. YN really couldn’t believe it.

Harry’s quick to stand up and wrap his arms around YN’s waist, and she places her hands upon his cheeks and their lips are pressed together in a kiss that’s quick and rushed but everything that they need at this moment in time.

“I love you.” She grins once she pulls away, resting her forehead against his, “So much.” 

“I love you, too.” 

A year ago YN’s life changed in ways that she could only dream about. She became one of the most recognised chess players in the world and had a title to match that. A year later her life had changed again, in this way to the point where she would be spending the rest of her life with the man who she loved more than anything. 

In her eyes she had won, she had reached a checkmate and there was no turning back from it. 

She didn’t want to. 

𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 buy me a coffee

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @havethetimeofyourstyles​ @stylesfics-xx​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @burberryharold​ @heartbreakweatherharry​ @ucancallmechlo​ @ill-be-your-honey-bri​ @the-tumbl-r-of-my-youth @njpic @hipslikejagger​ @caprisunstyles @itsbuckysworld​ @afire-hes​ @louie-bug​ @lolapuffs​ @cutemint​ @hswritingrecs​ @disposableerror​ @peachybloomss​ @rubytersteege @coni-martina​ @sleepingdancer​ @harrys-cherrry​ @rainbowbutterflyboy​ @shawn-youth​ @swtxel @harrysunflowerkiwi​ @nesiamenick​ @glitterandharry​ @hhh33-3l​ @yourhsficsplug​ @gliitteryy​ @duh-dobrik​

[thismessymasterpiece]

You Belong With Me (Neville’s Version)

Summary - Neville Longbottom shares absolutely everything with his best friend. Well, everything except his totally inappropriate, all-consuming crush on her.

Neville Longbottom x Fem!Ravenclaw!OC (?) This is a shifting story so the “OC” is myself, I do not know if that counts…

Category - Angst, no happy ending

TW - Very small use of cursing, written a long time ago so... terrible writing.

Please let me know if I missed anything!

Contains - Deamus (Thank me later), Heartbreakingly sad Nev </3

Word Count - 2,746

Author’s Note - I apologize so much in advance and will gladly pay for the therapy you will most probably need after reading this... I recommend reading while listening to "You Belong With Me (Taylor's Version)" by Taylor Swift <3

Also available on...

Wattpad

"Hey, Olly," the voice of my kind friend, Dean Thomas sounds from before me and I look up to see Seamus Finnigan and him holding hands and looking at me warily.

"Hey, mate! How are you?"

The pair of them pull a soft grimace and my eyebrows knit together but I act like they are not being strange.

"Well, don't be shy," I wave my arm gently towards the empty space in front of me, prompting them to occupy the seats, "Ravenclaws don't bite, y'know." I chuckle lightly but they remain stony-faced.

"Normally Neville would sit there like he always does but I haven't seen him at all this morning..."

I trail off to silence as they take the seats with a clearly uncomforted demeanor. The final line is drawn when they flinch as I mention Nev's name.

"Okay, what in the ruddy hell is going on?" I bark a bit harsher than I had intended and lower the hostility in my tone as I go on.

"There is very clearly something strange going on. You always sit with Nev and I here so it is clearly not the table." Another flinch, much more distinct this time, again brought on by my best friend's name on my tongue.

Dean looks at me with a look of honesty that he never fails to bring out. That is one of the things that I love most about my best mate. He is real and won't bullshit or sugar-coat things, even when they may be highly unpleasant. I think that is what makes Seamus and him such a good pair, Dean knows how to control Sea when he gets out of hand. They balance out perfectly.

Bringing his hand away from Seamus' and crossing his hands in front of him as he leans closer, he sighs and looks straight into my eyes.

"It's not the table, Olly. It's Nev."

I know for a fact that I look particularly shaken at this statement.

"Dean, you're his best friend," Seamus gasps in an affronted manner, "Okay, yeah, you too, Sea."

I turn back to Dean and meet his eyes, "...but so am I. If he had a problem with m-"

"That is the problem, Olive Rose!" Dean had never raised his voice towards me and hadn't used my full name in years. Even though his tone is more stern than loud, he looks sympathetic as he continues.

"I'm sorry but... you're just friends with too many people."

My voice clearly lets my vexation through like a curtain as I sneer, "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Dean takes a deep breath and pauses for a long moment, thinking deeply on how he is going to phrase his next statement, "Draco, Harry, Ron, Roger Davies... I mean, I don't have a problem with the age gap but-"

"What the bloody hell are you getting at?" My anger is raising my voice against my will.

"Nev!" Seamus blows up suddenly, making heads turn up and down the table.

When the heads have craned back to their own business, I glare at Seamus.

"What about him, Sea? He is my friend. Just like Oliver is, The Twins, Blaise-"

"Friend?" He pressures, as though this will make any more sense by repeating the exact same words.

"Yes, he is my best friend."

"For Godric's Sake, Olly! Are you blind or something?"

"What are you two on?" I fluster, my hands flying around in my confusion while I talk.

"You're clearly the one who's on something. You are clueless!"

"Okay, Seamus, this is a waste of my time. I will see you both later-"

I begin to rise but before I have made it a couple of inches out of my seat, his hand has reached far across the table and clasps unflinchingly around my wrist.

"Just... c'mere."

Dean slaps him meaningfully on the arm with the back of his hand, looking practically assaulted, but as Seamus starts to get up and lead me to the doors of the Entrance Hall, he quickly picks up his things and dashes after us.

Hissed whispers of "Seamus, this is a bad idea!" and "She cannot see him like this..." come from Dean as though I cannot hear him from right beside me.

"Like what?" I ask in curiosity slightly mingled with concern.

The pair of them take me up the stairs to the seventh floor and around the corner to their own common room.

"Okay, so we are clearly not going to my common. You'd have to hitch a right, not a left. Great, let me tick that off number one on the list of the infinite places in this retched castle alone that you could be bringing me."

"Olive Rose, we know you're smart so would you stop playing dumb for two minutes, please?" Seamus snaps bitingly and his additional use of my full name does not go unnoticed either, "You know good and well where it is that we are going."

He is not wrong. I know where they are bringing me, even before we came to a stopping point in front of a painting of a lovely lady in a silky pink dress sitting upon an old Victorian dinner chair.

Seamus gives her the password and pushes through the entrance carelessly, stopping short when he notices I had done the same.

"What, mate? Got cold feet?" He taunts with a smirk.

"No, you just... didn't thank her."

"Oh, please- Who are you, my mother?"

"Well, no, but she is quite a lovely woman. She's asked me to keep an eye on you and write if I catch you brea-"

He steps away from me in horror but walks back out quickly and looks annoyed as he replies, "Thanks, Fat Lady..." before going back in.

"Excuse me?" I called in the door.

"What?" He groans as he stops again, halfway through his common room this time.

"What was it that you called her?"

He looks at me as if I was a single dimming lightbulb in a dark room.

"By her name..." He trails off in annoyance.

"That's not it, though."

I roll my eyes as he carelessly makes to turn around.

"Clearly Neville was the best choice as my friend. He and I seem to have been the only ones who asked her of her actual name moments after we saw her for the first time."

Dean, who I thought has left up to his dorms, appears to have sat with one leg crossed over the other in a squashy armchair in the corner of the room. He has picked up a paper of moving photographs that mask his face and speaks up. I jump a bit as he plainly states from behind the post, "C'mon, Olly. Stop stalling."

I groan before turning sincerely on the woman in the portrait and smile widely at her, the gratefulness mirrored. "Thank you, Elizabeth."

"It is my pleasure, my dear. Now you better run along and help that sweet boyfriend of yours, Olive Rose."

I blush scarlet as she simpers jokingly. With my gaze flat down at my shuffling feet, I mumble, "Space between the words..."

Elizabeth laughs out merrily.

“Of course, darling, of course…”

I swear I see her right eye wink quickly and discreetly at me as I run through the hole in the wall.

Dean and Seamus hesitate as I approach the well-known stairway to the boy's dorms. They had seen what happened when their dormmates had tried to go up the staircase opposite. Of course, I knew the right stairwell, though. I had been up there countless times to study. Mostly with Neville... but Dean and Seamus knew I helped them loads... in the library. Okay, but to be fair, the Twins needed some help with their schoolwork oftentimes too. Just because I was two years younger and tiny enough to be even smaller, I had double both of their brains combined and they never even hesitated to admit it. Come to think of it, though, we normally went to the Room of Requirement. Ever since I found out about it in a Restricted Section book thanks to my eternally approved pass from Professor Flitwick, I decided on taking them somewhere with bookshelves stocked full of fidget toys and similar things as they tended to help them focus.

Okay, so yeah, I pretty much just helped Neville study up there.

"I think it might be better if you just go up there," Seamus shuffles next to Dean at the foot of the stairs. I had climbed to the edge and right around the spiral in the path. I could barely see them behind the stone but my voice echoes down as I give a hesitant agreement.

Not knowing what I would possibly find in here that would be so bad they were not able to follow along, I start to giggle when a Muggle song I recognized rung out. The music was clearly magically amplified and was blasting as I edged closer to the oh-so-familiar door.

I wave my head around in disbelief.

Why was this song, this song, playing from Neville's room?

I thought back to when I had told him about how much I loved Muggle music. It felt just as magical as the rest of our world. I would say that my knowledge of Muggle culture despite being such a well-known Pureblood could possibly even rival that of Ron's dad, Mr. Weasley. Of course, minus the... y'know, crazy, obsessive part.

I stand rooted. Why- It just got worse.

I hear a voice sobbing inside.

I silently count off names in my head.

Ron had been at breakfast at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Dean and Seamus were down in the common room so- so... that only left one person to possibly be in here.

I beg that it is not who I think it is, no, know it is. Despite how much I want to pretend that that soft whimper that so represents Neville's lovely voice sounding out is not him, it stings my heart like venomous bees.

I have to fight a harsh war against my mind to keep my breathing even and quiet while I give the door a light push and it cracks open.

The sight that faces me is worse than I could possibly have imagined it.

The hunched-over figure of Neville in blue and white striped pajamas has his back to me.

My breath catches distinctly at the clamorous squeak of the old metal hinges. Damn, I know that that door always creaks.

I do not know why I am so concerned anyway, as the combination of the music, sobbing, and pitiful attempts at singing drown out all else.

I stand there for a moment, examining everything. I know how orderly Neville keeps his area next to the door and around his bed but now it is messy enough to rival those of his roommates, something I never thought I would be able to say.

His bed is unmade where he sits and the covers are thrown around on it, as though he had struggled with it in frustration. Things from his nightside drawer are strewn around as he seemed to have tried to distract himself by playing with one after the other and failed. His trunk is thrown open and by the look of his normally so nicely folded clothes that lay forgotten and chucked all over the area surrounding him, he seemed to have given up at so much as getting dressed this morning. Finally, at the center of all the chaos, sits Neville.

His shoulders are heaving up and down as his cries ring out. The song plays on a continuous loop. I don't want to get too close and scare him but as much as my heart yells at me not to, I want to see his face.

I am saved that decision as my eyes land on a full-length mirror placed across the room, conveniently stationed so I can see his face. This, however, is a familiar mirror. One of sterling, goblin-made silver and specially engraved with yellow sunflowers and a little handwritten birthday note that I had placed on it over a year and a half ago when he had been at my home.

I had meant for the note to have been read, taken off, and immediately discarded but here it is, looking right at me. From the placement of the aged and strongly yellowing parchment, exactly the same as it had been last time my fingers had grazed it and pinned it up with a small, decorative push-pin of a ray of sunshine, it was obvious that it had never been moved.

His face looks down which let me look from his forehead to his chin at an angle. I can see the dried salt of heavy, past tears down his cheeks... those cute, blushey cheeks that I love. His eyes a red so deep that the dense scarlet curtains could never have rivaled it.

What could possibly have made this happen?

Then, I see it. A book on Herbologists that I had gotten for my birthday last year. I asked him if he had wanted it instead as he had been spending the second half of the summer break with me like he always did and was there for my birthday that summer.

Why is this such a problem, though?

I risk a further glance over his shoulder to see deep in his lap. There the book lays, the pages staying put as though something had made an impression on the spine from being bookmarked for so long.

A parchment letter lays open in front of him with a small note pulled out. It hits me then. This was a letter that- Oh, Rowena... not that deep, Slytherin-green wax seal, a distinct "M" marked on it.

This was a birthday card from the original gifter of the book. I do not need to see the swirly, tall, and sophisticated penmanship to know that this is a letter from one of my absolute closest friends. This is a letter from Draco Malfoy, my longest-known friend. A friend I have known since we had both been born. Being so high in the wizarding world, it was only logical that our parents had known each other well and we had grown up with each other.

Draco coming over to play in the outside sandbox as his father and mine discussed business over dinner.

Draco coming over and playing Exploding Snap on my bed in my room while his mother came for a casual drink with my mum.

Draco and I sitting close together on the sofa in my room and reading the countless Muggle books that I forced upon him while our parents went into the formal dining room to have some fancy dinner that neither of us had any interest in. Him wrapping his arm over my shoulder as I read aloud in a soft voice. Me switching the book over to him. My head falling lightly asleep on his shoulder or chest while his voice taunted me calmly with the sugary words on the pages.

Neville must be reading my thirteenth birthday letter. I had completely forgotten it had been tucked in this book. I am sure I popped it in absentmindedly after having read it.

Neville must be reading these fondly recounted stories from the boy I had grown up beside and taken it in some strange way. Ew. Draco is... well, he is simply like an annoying, considerably overprotective brother. Y'know, not necessarily an older brother but one who feels he needs to act as such. He has a bad reputation at school (I will not lie and say it is underserved) but is just sweet when you get to know him as I have.

I would never think of Draco as anything other than what I keep saying, my best friend. In a way, the very best of my mates.

Yes, I have fallen asleep with him on my couch many times. After reading. People have popped the idea of us as a couple before and it only sent a disgusted shiver down our spines simultaneously.

We are the closest of friends and that is all the both of us will ever want to be.

The question still tugs at my mind, though. Why would Neville care?

As I sit in silent contemplation, I find myself focusing on the lyrics of this song I showed to Neville so many years ago.

"You got a smile that that could light up this whole town..."

"Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find,

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can't you see?

You belong with me..."

His whimpers while speaking out the lyrics have been getting worse by the minute. Finally, a loud and miserable sob from my dear, darling Nev comes out with this last lyric... and it clicks.

dividers courtesy of the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune <3

[shinidamachu]

CHAPTER TWO: Is Your Seatbelt On?

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list.

WORDS: 709

GENRE: fluff

FANDOM: Inukag

FORMAT: multichapter

ALSO FOUND ON: AO3, FF.Net

“Alright!” Inuyasha let himself fall comfortably on the passenger seat of his car and closed the door beside him in a swift move, his arm already hanging carelessly on the open window. Riding shotgun was a foreign sensation, but he didn’t mind. Not when it was her behind the steering wheel. “You ready?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Kagome, sinking on her spot slightly. Her hands were squeezing the wheel harder than necessary and — Inuyasha could only assume — also sweating.

His girlfriend didn’t know how to drive. 

And what kind of man would Inuyasha be if he didn’t offer to teach her?

“Don’t worry,” he said, stroking her hand with the intention to ease the tension of her white knuckles. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

That seemed to do the trick. Kagome let out a deep sigh and slowly pulled herself up.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself, a moment before her confidence caught up. “Okay, let’s do it.”

And there it was: the determined expression that never fails to get him weak in the knees. Kagome had been blessed with the kind of beauty that simply could not be denied. And he should know. He had tried to. For some people, it was the body: petite and curvy. For others, it was the angelic face: delicate and impossible to forget, framed by long black locks and decorated with the most gorgeous doe eyes. For Inuyasha, it was all of it. But mostly the way her fierceness highlighted everything else.

Without permission, a wide grin spread across his face.

“That’s my girl.”

Knowing she had previously studied the theoretical part of it on her own, Inuyasha limited himself to walk Kagome through the practical basics, instructing her to start the engine as soon as she got the hang of it.

It amused him to no end, to think there was a time he couldn’t figure her out. Now, he was almost able to listen to her, mentally reciting and crossing off the items of her list as she went through it: put on the seatbelt, check. Get the car started, check. Shift the car into drive, check. Set the turn signal on, check.

“Is your seatbelt on?”

Inuyasha looked at his girlfriend as if she had grown a second head.

“What?”

“Your seatbelt,” she repeated, even though both of them knew half demons didn’t need a seatbelt and that he had heard her just fine.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am.”

It was too much. The laugh Inuyasha had been suppressing roared through the air and brought tears to his eyes.

“What’s so funny? You wear it all the time.”

“Yeah, so I don’t get a ticket. But there’s no one around.”

He had purposefully picked a deserted road. Since it was her first time driving, might as well make it easier on her.

“You could still get hurt if anything goes wrong.”

“And I’d be good to go by morning, but I’m glad to see how much you believe in your own skills.”

“Jerk!” She hit his shoulder with her tiny fist and Inuyasha couldn’t help but to keep laughing. “Maybe you don’t care if you get hurt, but I do!”

The honesty of her statement made him stop. After his mother died, he was alone, having to take care of himself every step of the way. It always took him off guard, when someone else did it. Softening his expression, Inuyasha leaned towards her.

“Babe,” he breathed, closing the gap between them and allowing his lips to show her with actions the appreciation they couldn’t with words. Fluent in his love language, Kagome kissed him back until he finally pulled away. “You’re such a pain.” Watching her flushed face regain awareness of time and space, he laughed again. “‘Is your seatbelt on?’ I should be the one asking you, clumsy.”

“Well, I fastened mine ages ago. Unlike you.”

If the raised eyebrow wasn’t suggestive enough, Kagome made a point of gazing at his seatbelt, then at him. Rolling his eyes, Inuyasha gave in.

“There. Happy?”

“Very.” 

The brightest smile graced her features while she nodded. God help him, he just might end up marrying this one.

“Then quit stalling and let’s get the hell outta here.”

A/N.: sweet and short to make up for last chapter. I hope you enjoy.