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#felt really detailed compared to usual
cainternn · 2 years
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POWER!!
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starcrossedmusings · 22 days
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Pretty Hands
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Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)
Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.
A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡
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Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.
"Yun? I'm here!"
His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"
You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.
"Whats up?"
"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."
Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"
"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."
Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"
You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."
"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."
"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."
Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"
"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.
"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."
"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."
Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"
"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."
"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."
You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."
You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."
You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"
Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.
"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.
"You set me up!"
"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."
"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"
"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."
"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.
"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"
"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.
You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.
"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."
"You sound jealous."
"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."
"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."
"I do not!"
"Do too."
"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."
"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."
He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.
An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"
"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.
"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.
"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"
"It's embarrassing..."
"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"
"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"
"I won't I swear!"
"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."
He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.
You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."
Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."
"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."
"Liar."
You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.
"Yun stop it--"
"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.
"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--
Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.
He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.
Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"
"Yeah?"
"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"
A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"
"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."
Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.
"Like...like right now he does?"
You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."
Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.
In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.
"Is this okay?"
You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.
"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"
You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."
Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"
The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."
He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."
You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.
"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."
Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."
Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.
Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.
"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"
You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.
"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"
You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.
"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."
Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.
"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.
Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"
You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."
He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.
"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.
"I look forward to that."
"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."
Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants
“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 
You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 
Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 
You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 
An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.
Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 
Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.
“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.
“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.
Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.
That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.
Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.
As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”
Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.
But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.
Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."
In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.
The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.
Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.
“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 
His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.
“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”
Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.
He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."
Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 
“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.
"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."
Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 
Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 
That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 
You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 
Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 
By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 
“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"
Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.
“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”
Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 
“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.
Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 
That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.
His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”
Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.
“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”
There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.
He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.
“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”
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bakuhatsufallinlove · 4 months
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All right, listen. It’s pretty damn funny that two weeks ago I posted all like, “oh I don’t really comment chapter-by-chapter, I’m waiting to see what happens next,” but this one broke me.
This chapter was everything I wanted for bkdk, and it’s so much more tender than I ever dreamed it could be.
This post is not going to be like most of my posts, because I am a flood of emotion. If you’re wanting some detailed, well-researched analysis of this scene, that ain’t coming for a while.
I don’t have some kind of comparative linguistics to show you. I just have my visceral reactions as someone who speaks Japanese and has absorbed Japanese media for many years. I have shared my heart with others in Japanese, I’ve sputtered out words between sobs and felt the many kinds of comfort different people try to offer. I have comforted others who let themselves be vulnerable with me.
In all these moments, just as in English, I wondered if my words and feelings reached them. Each time, I felt the warmth of connection when they looked at me, and I decided that they knew I did my best. They accepted me, even if it wasn’t perfect.
I’m gonna tell you the truth, and I wouldn’t normally say this so directly, but it matters to me: the fan translation for this specific scene is not good. The tone is wildly off in some ways and it outright omits a number of very important words.
The official translation gets so much of it right.
But that’s not really what I want to talk about right now. I want to talk about how people are reading this scene.
I have seen a ton of, frankly, oblivious interpretations of Izuku’s side of things.
Listen to me. Izuku is not making fun of Katsuki for crying, he is not telling Katsuki that crying isn’t like him, that isn’t in the text at all. He is not rejecting Katsuki’s feelings, or belittling them, or ignoring them, or any of that.
Izuku has seen Katsuki cry in-canon a number of times, but every time it was over his own personal failures, and the frustration, anger, guilt, and grief associated with them. We see it in the aftermath of Deku vs. Kacchan 1. We see it during Deku vs. Kacchan 2.
Izuku is shocked to see Kacchan cry because this is the first time he has cried for Izuku.
When Katsuki apologized in 322, he looked Izuku in the eye and told him his feelings with conviction and poise. He was gentle and vulnerable, but strong, because he was asking Izuku to trust them and rely on them. To come back with them and believe in them, like they believe in Izuku. He bowed his head to show his remorse. He caught Izuku when he fell, and he accepted Izuku’s own apology.
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He embodied dignity, sincerity, and strength of character. He was a true hero.
This?
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This is the raw, honest sorrow of a young boy. It is a tender, earnest, unguarded display of how much Izuku means to him.
These are the tears you shed for someone you cherish. These are tears for when you think you are losing something you can’t live without. Because Katsuki isn’t just crying for the loss of Izuku’s dream—it’s their dream, the future they dreamt up together as kids.
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Izuku is almost pathologically incapable of understanding how other people see him and feel about him, but this is unmistakable. He is stunned because there is no other explanation.
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There is unmitigated heartache and longing at the core of Katsuki saying, “I just thought somehow we would be together like this, competing and chasing after each other, forever.”
And Izuku is reeling, but so, so touched, and filled with fondness. Look at how his shock shifts to this overwhelmed, affectionate smile.
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He’s right—this isn’t the usual Katsuki, and that is precisely why it means so much. We as the audience have been privy to Katsuki’s feelings, but until now Izuku himself has never really grasped the depth of them. This is all the tenderness Katsuki has kept locked up inside, and he is letting Izuku see it for the first time.
To see Kacchan—strong, fierce, and absolutely unstoppable—shed these innocent, helpless tears for him and tell him through sobs that he wanted things to stay this way forever, I can’t blame him for being blown away.
I think Izuku expected Katsuki to be shocked and a little sad that he gave up OFA, both for Izuku’s sake and because it is the legacy of their hero. Before Katsuki even starts crying, Izuku has this small smile on his face, like he was ready to reassure him that he had made peace with his own choice.
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But he clearly didn’t expect for Katsuki to weep openly in front of him about it or to confess to wanting him by his side. Izuku had so enjoyed just being allowed near Katsuki, allowed in his life at all—to think that Katsuki could want the same and want it this much, to the point that he worries that things would change, that Izuku would abandon him or deny him? How could that ever be?
In what world could Izuku ever stop chasing Kacchan?
Izuku is a bit of an idiot. He has always thought that Katsuki understood how much he cared for and admired him—that’s why he is so shocked during DvK2 to hear that Katsuki thought he looked down on him for years. Izuku thought Katsuki understood his feelings and simply rejected them.
The way he loves Kacchan is natural and unquestionable. Even now, he can’t understand how Katsuki doesn’t know. It’s baffling to him.
But he still accepts Katsuki’s vulnerability and responds to the intimacy.
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This is such an affectionate, loving thing to say. Izuku is being so sweet. I cannot convey to you strongly enough how Izuku telling Katsuki, “C’mon, stop it, this isn’t like you!” reaffirms their closeness.
If Izuku had not said this line and instead skipped straight to this nervous, awkward little attempt at comfort here:
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It would have read as so much more distant.
With his tears and his confession, Katsuki pleads with Izuku to not leave him. To be with him always.
And in response, Izuku unabashedly stakes his claim on their bond by being bold enough to affectionately scold him and even assert authority on what kind of person Katsuki is. Remember these?
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Chapters 202 and 319
This is such a staple in Japanese media for showing close bonds. Your loved ones know you. They tease you. They scold you. They have that right. You gave it to them.
The people you love cheer you up by reminding you that you’re strong and brave and that even if things feel hopeless and like you can’t go on, that they know you can. Everything will be okay, and they know so because they’ll be right there with you. Of course they’ll be there.
Symbolically, throughout the series, Izuku’s response to Katsuki trying to be closer to him has always been: “Of course.”
He has always accepted Katsuki as much as he is able to, as much as he had awareness for. He is wildly lacking in self-awareness, so it’s certainly not perfect, but by god does he try.
What Izuku is really saying is a mixture of “Really? You want that, too?” and “Don’t be silly!”
One part is him being shocked and touched; the other is him being absolutely certain of his own heart, and showing it as best he can.
He does get flustered and self-conscious, though—because it’s overwhelming to see Kacchan this way, and this is kind of new territory for them. So he switches tactics to reassure Kacchan about how things are now, and make sure he doesn’t feel embarrassed about this outburst. He still has the embers, so it’s okay for now. And their bodies are weak, so of course their heads will be in a bad place too, it’s easy to get low spirits. Of course Katsuki would be feeling vulnerable. It’s normal.
He gives Katsuki so many things here. He gives him as much as he can.
Izuku doesn’t know how long he’ll have the embers for and, frankly, he doesn’t have any guarantee that he will be able to satisfy this longing of Katsuki’s after he loses them. This, too, is a staple of promises in Japanese media: “I don’t know if I can satisfy you, but I want to try. I hope you can accept me.”
Things will be different—the future is always uncertain, now more than ever for their world. But what will never change is what they feel in their hearts.
After this scene, I honestly don’t care if we get something other people see as “bkdk canon.”
What Katsuki says is as good as a confession to me. What Izuku says in return is genuine and pure. This is a messy pair of teenage boys figuring out how to reach each other with words, when they have always been so damn bad at it. This is the two of them both reaching a new point of intimacy and reaffirming everything that came before.
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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months
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It comes with the territory (1/3) - Lewis Hamilton
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Sequence: It comes with the territory / Hardest truth / Not even ours
request: "Hey Ella! I got an idea from some stuff I'm seeing on twitter. Some people thought that Alex was mild in her celebration for Charles win and started comparing her with how Nicole used to celebrate Lewis, she's even kinda trending and it made me think of some angst with Lewis new gf being criticized and compared with his ex and feeling really bad... 😘" - Anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: angst, it kind hurt to write this
wordcount: +1K
a/n: Anon, lovely anon, it took me sooo long to write this one (when doesn't it though?!) but I swear I've had it on my drafts ever since you sent it, I just couldn't get those dialogues right. Anyway, I hope the wait is worth it 🫶
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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The plane hummed softly as it cut through the night sky after an intense race weekend. Lewis had finished second, and although he would have preferred to be on the top step of the podium, he felt satisfied the performance he had dragged out of the car.
The fans had been loud, the energy palpable, and he had Y/n, for the first time, by his side. However, glancing over at her now, he noticed her face illuminated by the phone screen, a furrow etched between her brows. The usual vibrancy that she held was dimmed, replaced by a quiet intensity.
Y/n had made her debut in the F1 paddock as his girlfriend this weekend, and though she was no stranger to the world of motorsport, the attention had been overwhelming.
She had been to races before, blending in with the grandstands as just another fan, but this was different.
Walking hand in hand with Lewis, she had felt the eyes on her, the cameras flashing, and the whispers following her every step.
As he peered over her shoulder, he saw her scrolling through a barrage of social media posts.
Criticism. Comparisons. People calling her stuck up, saying she believed she was better than everyone else.
Comments about how she hadn't mingled with the Mercedes team, how she had kept to herself.
And the most painful of all, comparisons to Nicole. How she, almost a decade back, had been friendlier with the engineers, happier in her celebrations.
Lewis's heart ached as he watched Y/n's face grow more disheartened with each swipe of her finger. He wanted to say something, to take the phone from her hand and throw it out the plane window, to tell her none of it mattered. But he knew that wouldn't help.
Y/n was strong, but even the strongest could be brought to their knees by the weight of the world’s judgment.
Lewis had tried to shield her from the worst of it, but he knew it was impossible to escape entirely. The F1 world was as ruthless as it was glamorous, and everyone wanted a piece of her, the woman who had captured Lewis Hamilton's heart.
It came with the territory. That’s what he had been told all those years ago.
He had noticed the change in Y/n throughout the weekend, a transformation broadcast in broad daylight.
On the first day, she had been a bright, curious presence, eagerly engaging with everyone. She had asked his engineers a million and one questions, her enthusiasm palpable as she delved into details of the car, he was sure he had never been told himself. Her eyes sparkling with genuine interest, and the team warming to her instantly.
Afterall, she had been the first one in ten years he had brought out to the garage.
But come Sunday, that spark had dimmed. As he looked over during the podium celebrations, he saw her standing at a distance, away from the cluster of Mercedes engineers and mechanics.
She seemed smaller somehow, as if she had shrunk within herself, retreating into a protective shell.
Concerned, he had asked her about it later, wondering why she had pulled back. She had shrugged, her expression guarded, and said she didn't want to bother them in their workspace. Her words had been casual, but Lewis knew better.
He could see the hurt behind her eyes, the uncertainty as she did a triple check to her outfit, to her hair, to how she would think twice before saying anything outload.
It pained him to see her, someone so vibrant and warm, feel the need to diminish herself under the weight of others' scrutiny.
They landed late; the drive home heavy as they went through the roads of an almost empty London.
"Long day?" he asked, his voice low.
She nodded, not looking up. Lewis reached for her hand, a silent offer of comfort.
"I know it's been overwhelming" he began, his tone gentle. "This world can be a brutal place, especially when you're in the spotlight."
Y/n sighed, her fingers moving to entangle in his "I feel like I’m drowning in it all, Lewis."
He squeezed her hand. "It's understandable. But I’m here, to talk, to feel, to try and make sense of the madness"
She looked up, his eyes catching the sadness in her glance that almost had him choke up in pain. "It's the comparisons that hurt the most." She turned to the window and murmured.
Lewis studied her features, he could see the strain in Y/n's posture, the way she held herself tight, as if bracing against an unseen storm. He didn't push, didn't pry, just held her hand and hoped his presence was enough to offer some comfort.
The rest of the ride passed in silence. As they got home, Lewis helped her with her coat, their touch a silent language.
The next morning, Y/n was unusually quiet. Lewis found her in the kitchen, staring into a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. He knew they would have to address the elephant in the room, but he also had no idea how to bring up the subject again.
It didn't take long for her to come to him though.
"I feel like I let you down this weekend." She finally spoke.
Lewis met her gaze. "Why would you say that?"
"I was so distant, so... guarded. I didn’t even feel like myself." Her voice steady as she finally held his gaze
Lewis put down the reports he had been pretending to read and walked over to her on the table. "Why would you say that?"
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes glassy but confident. "I saw what people were saying. That I didn't talk to the engineers, that I stayed away from everyone, that I think I'm better than them. And then... the comparisons to Nicole."
Lewis sighed, pulling out a chair to sit beside her. "Y/n, you were overwhelmed. It was your first time in the paddock as my girlfriend. That's a huge deal, and it's okay to need space."
"But they don't understand that," Y/n continued, her voice clear as she tried to articulate her feelings. "They just see me as this aloof, stuck-up person who doesn't care about anyone but myself. I was so excited on Friday. But by Sunday, I couldn't even bring myself to go near anyone. I felt like..." she took a deep breath and turned to look him before continuing “I felt like I was in the way, like I was intruding on their space. I kept thinking about how they're all so used to this, and there I was suddenly in the middle of it all. I didn't want to bother them or distract them from their work.
"You could never be a bother" Lewis insisted, his voice firm yet gentle. "The team welcomed you because they know you're important to me, and because they could see how much you genuinely care.”
“Look, I get it. I saw the comments on social medias. It's overwhelming, and it's easy to feel out of place. But that's not on you, love. " Lewis pulled her closer, wrapping her in his arms.
"I hate that you're feeling this way, Y/n. I wish I could shield you from all of it. But it doesn’t work like that. That comes with the territory and we both know it. The rest of the world can think what they want, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you, just as you are. You don't have to be perfect, and you don't have to change to fit anyone's expectations."
Y/n leaned into his embrace, her voice barely a whisper. "I just want to be enough."
Lewis held her tighter, his voice full of emotion. "You are so much more than enough."
They spent the rest of his Monday off together, their phones lost somewhere in the kitchen. Their quiet companionship all they both needed.
As the day drew to a close, they sat on the terrace, watching the sunset. Y/n leaned against Lewis’s chest, his arm around her.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the trees.
Lewis squeezed her hand. "For?"
"Being here. Understanding."
He turned to face her; his gaze steady. "You're strong, love. Stronger than you think. We’ll face this together, we’ll always do."
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dreamsy990 · 1 year
Text
you know i used to think it was weird how sora and roxas have such different personalities for supposedly being 'the same person' but after playing a few games i sort of realized that they do have similar personalities, because roxas acts how sora does when he's under extreme stress.
compare roxas to sora in, say, kh1. that's where a lot of peoples idea of sora's personality comes from. sora is generally very upbeat and optimistic in that game. not very similar to roxas, right?
but let's switch the game and talk about a game where sora is ABSOLUTELY GOING THROUGH IT. chain of memories.
sora's resting state is melancholy in com. he only ever cheers up in short bursts, usually when he's joking around with friends. just like roxas.
he's quick to anger, and tends to lash out at the organization members. best example of this is when larxene makes him 'remember' namine, and he swings at her repeatedly, even after she's gone. he only stops when jiminy is able to snap him out of it.
you know what scene that resembles?
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sora, while a bit more on the angry side and less sad, continues to act like this in kh2 when he's in stressful situations. (he also has a tendancy to insult people which, while it's not very related to the point, is very funny and sora saying 'gonna cry?' to xigbar is great.) i cant comment any further than that about kh2 off the top of my head.
so, roxas acts like sora does when he's stressed, right? but why is roxas always acting like that? to which i say, he isnt!
he only ever acts like that when he's also in fucked up and stressful situations, which happens to be a CONSTANT in his life. but when he's hanging out with axel and xion, a decidedly NOT stressful situation, he's a lot more like sora. he's teasing his friends and insulting his coworkers and joking around and acting like a normal kid. not really important, but unless i misremembered some sora lines which is VERY possible, both roxas and sora respond to friendly insults with "oh thanks!" a lot. just a funny little detail that felt relevant.
the biggest differences between roxas and sora boil down to environment and... i dont know how to put it besides volume? roxas is very quiet and tends to keep most of his thoughts to himself, while sora is very loud and expressive in comparison.
there is one other huge difference i noticed, which is less character based and more story. sora wanted to get off destiny islands and explore with his friends, but roxas just wanted routine. sora wants adventure, and roxas wants things to stay the same, for days where he gets off work and eats ice cream with his friends to last forever, to keep having conversations about nothing and watching the sunset. roxas wants normalcy, sora wants excitement. it's just interesting seeing their contrast.
not sure if this is very well said or anything i just wanted to talk about my boys
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jewelleria · 6 months
Text
I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.
I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 
But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 
This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 
I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.
How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 
I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 
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If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 
I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 
But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 
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So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 
But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 
They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 
These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 
Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 
No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.
But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 
I am a Jew. 
Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 
I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 
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Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 
Then they sent me this: 
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I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.
Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 
For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 
But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 
I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.
I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 
And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.
But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 
There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.
But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 
So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.
I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 
I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 
I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.
But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 
When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.
My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 
I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 
Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!
EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍
Source Reading
The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications
Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn
Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha
I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg
The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes
Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board
There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart
The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit
“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi
When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss
Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller
Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer
What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins
The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore
Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman
The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman
How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner
This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press
Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss
700 notes · View notes
entitled-fangirl · 5 months
Text
A beautiful thing to picture, indeed.
Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Benedict finds himself speechless at the model in his art class. The two later meet, and he realizes maybe she's what he wants.
A/N: Give my man Benedict some LOVEEEE
Masterlist
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Benedict sat down and readied his canvas for his art class to begin.
His new found friends leaned over leaned over as the Bridgerton sat down, "Teacher said we were studying dresses today."
"Dresses?" Benedict asked with his usual smirk. 
"Yeah. Said something about capturing the flow of 'em. Whatever that means."
"The flow of-" Benedict paused as the door opened and out walked a small figure.
A beautiful model in a thin silk dress. 
She scanned the room with nervous eyes. After all, the room was full of eager men who wished to picture her frame.
Benedict felt breath leave his lungs.
A beautiful thing to picture, indeed.
The teacher took the model's hand gently and led her to the middle of the room. "Alright, gentlemen," he called loudly. "Today we shall be focusing on the flow of fabric. Really pay attention to the detail. I want to feel like I can reach out and touch the fabric in your sketches."
The teacher then turned to the girl, "Miss Hemmings, are you ready?"
The girl scanned the room one more time in nervousness, before it set on Benedict. Her nervous eyes relaxed for just a moment before moving away from him to look at the other men. Her voice was meek and quiet, "Yes. I… I believe I am."
The man nodded, "Alright. Pick a direction to look, and I'll situate you from there."
She took a deep breath and scanned the room once more. Once her gaze settled on Benedict, as it had done before, she stopped. "I believe here should suffice?"
Benedict gave a smirk and couldn't look away. She was captivating.
The teacher then reached down, fluffed out her dress just barely, and stood. He turned to face his eager students, "Begin."
And there she was, under a spotlight in a room full of men who were now beginning to sketch her.
And she had to stay still.
Now that all eyes were on her, she decided looking towards Benedict was a bad idea.
He was to always be looking at her. He was sketching her, after all.
And the wall above him was too dark to be anything enjoyable to watch for the next few hours. But she did so. For the first hour anyway.
Eventually, she couldn't help but let her gaze fall to the Bridgerton. He was deep in focus now.
So much so, that he didn't feel her gaze until the third time he had glanced up at her.
He paused involuntarily at the eye contact. He felt the smallest of smiles graze his face.
Her cheeks heated to a violent shade of red. And she couldn't hide it.
She broke the eye contact, looking back up at the wall to avoid accidentally moving and messing up all the other sketches.
But every now and then, she would allow herself to take in the sight of the Bridgerton earnest at work.
A beautiful thing to picture, indeed.
The second the class was called to a close, Miss Hemmings completely disappeared.
It confused Benedict.
He had been comparing his finished portrait to her, and had looked up and she was gone.
No matter.
She's just a model. 
That's what he told himself, at least.
Benedict Bridgerton was making his way downtown, eager to purchase more charcoal for his sketching endeavors.
He hardly heard the sound that was coming from the nearby alleyway.
But he did.
He paused in his step and turned his head in its direction.
Sounded like a woman's voice.
He began to cautiously walk down said alleyway with a low voice, "Hello? Anyone there?"
He rounded the corner and stopped at the sight.
A woman was practically pinned against the wall by a man much bigger than her.
His hand was wandering down her dress and began to lift the hem of it.
Tears filled her eyes as she tried to push him away with quiet pleads.
"Hey!" Benedict yelled. "What are you doing?"
The man turned his head in his direction and scoffed, "This Miss was being tempting to the gentlemen that walk these streets. But when I tried to take the temptation…" he grabbed at her jaw and growled in her ear, "… She refuses me."
Benedict took a few more steps closer with his hands out, "Leave the lady be, sir."
The man moved away from the woman and the wall, now interested in Benedict, "And tell me, what will you do about it?"
Benedict took a breath and courageously stepped forward, "I'm Anthony Bridgerton, the Viscount you hear of so often. I suggest you step away from the woman and continue your day. Sir." He said through gritted teeth.
The man paused, "Bridgerton?"
Benedict nodded.
"Ah," the man feigned happiness. "Lord Bridgerton, of course. My apologies. I had no idea she was yours, my Lord."
"'Tis alright." Benedict said. "You may correct your mistake now."
The man nodded, "And so I shall. Good day, sir."
And with that, the man left.
Benedict watched him round the corner before immediately rushing to the woman, "Are you well?" He asked in a hushed tone.
The woman looked up.
Benedict let out a breath.
The model.
She looked down again to wipe the tears from her face, "Lord Bridgerton. I apologize. I… I did not… I didn't mean…"
Benedict felt himself smiling, "Please. Please calm yourself. It's alright. You owe me nothing."
She felt herself take a few steady breaths before she looked up again. Her eyes now focused on his and her face morphed into shock, "You?"
He actually let out a chuckle, "Me? Yes. I'm afraid so. Apparently, I just couldn't let you go, huh?"
She smiled and relaxed. "I suppose I truly owe you gratitude."
He shook his head, "No. Please."
"I do, my Lord." She insisted.
He looked off in thought and smiled. His gaze turned back to her, "Tell me your name."
She paused a moment at his request. "Y/N Hemmings, sir."
His smile grew as he took her hand and kissed the back of it. "A pleasure, truly. I'm afraid you have occupied all of my thoughts since the last time I saw you."
She smiled, "You're simply an artist who is immersed with his work, my Lord. That is all."
Benedict nodded, "Tell me what you were doing alone out here?"
She sighed, "I… I make runs here for the upper class who don't wish to be seen in such… slums. They pay me to do so."
He feels his jaw go slack just a bit, "You come to dangerous areas to make extra money?"
She nods, "I have a younger brother to take care of, my Lord. He is everything to me."
He shakes his head in disbelief, "You're a mysterious thing, aren't you?" 
She lets out a laugh, "Not as mysterious as you, sir. A Viscount taking artistic classes? Don't you have higher duties? I don't imagine they have time for such… fulfilling things?"
He offers his arm to her, "Then perhaps I may tell you something?"
She took his arm with a curious grin, "You may."
He leans down to her ear, "I am not the Viscount."
She tried to pull away in shock, but he held her arm tightly. "You are not Lord Anthony Bridgerton?"
He laughed out, "No. Heavens no."
She cautiously leaned in, "Who are you, then?"
He smiled, "I am Benedict Bridgerton, the second son residing in Aubrey Hall. I didn't completely lie to you. I am indeed a Bridgerton."
She stepped with him down the alleyway now, "I see. I suppose that makes more sense."
Benedict stops walking as they near the road, "May I be frank with you, Miss Hemmings?"
She tilted her head, "Yes, sir."
"You are the most fascinating creature I've ever seen."
She felt her cheeks grow warm, "Oh. I… what a most welcome compliment, Sir."
He smiles, "I do hope there is no man I must fight for the right to your hand."
She felt her mouth dry. "What?"
"Your hand," he smiled. "Do you have a suitor?"
"Me?" She gasped out. "Me? No. I don't… I've never had suitors."
He nods and smiles wider, "Then may I be the first, Miss Hemmings?"
She considers his words. A Bridgerton. A high ranking family with wealth and charm.
But more importantly, a most dashing artist as a potential husband.
"Only if I may see the sketch you designed of me all those days ago."
He lets out a laugh, "Oh, darling, nothing I sketch would be even close enough to capturing your beauty onto the paper. Even the greatest artist can do no such task. It is meant to be enjoyed in the moment."
She nodded in thought, "Then you must call me Y/N. And you must continue to sketch me until you get it right."
He tilts his head, "But I've just claimed it's impossible to do."
She smiled, "Then we have no excuse to not be near each other, it seems."
Benedict grinned brightly and leaned in, "I suppose you're right. But you have to call me by my own name."
She let out a breath, "I shall do so."
"Excellent. Most excellent." Benedict said as they walked out onto the busy street.
A wife of his own? Benedict thought. That's something he always pictured as a boy.
And as he looked down at her, he realized it was a most beautiful thing to picture, indeed.
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713 notes · View notes
starsxblazing · 8 months
Note
Hi friend! I had an idea that perhaps you could bring to life. Its an azriel x reader. Where shes a seamstress for Rhys, she makes all his suits and all the beautiful gowns and dresses for the girls to wear. She even makes their leathers for fighting. I imagine one of them or maybe a few of them make a comment on how she's no one important and kinda belittles her work cuz shes just a seamstress. Rhys brings all 3 males to be measured for suits and azriel is getting flushed as readers kneeling to measure the length of his pants and the slit for his wings. Rhys sees Azriel blush and gives him a stern look shaking his head like "not this one." She doesnt look them in they eye, and rhys doesnt tell azriel anything about her. Like shes rhys best kept secret. Reader feels like the IC is so much better than her and thats why they sometimes say mean things (maybe someone asks elain where her dress is from and she just scoffs like "this old thing") but its actually a protective rhys trying to keep her safe cuz she reminds him so much of his deceased sister. Bond snaps but readers so insecure she wants to decline. Sorry this was so long. Lol. Just trying to get the jist of it out. Non important seamstress reader, flushed azriel, brother like rhys. The end. 🤣🤣🤣
a/n: I really hope that I did your request justice! It was so cute writing a shy Azriel
Unnoticed
You sat at the front desk of the shop to place your order for your inventory, sighing to yourself as your eyes momentarily moved around the small store that you owned. It wasn’t anything special and was small compared to the many others in the city. There were so many other places that would be preferred by the citizens but this was your passion and refused to give up on it. The bell on the door rang and you looked up with a hopeful smile that turned into a grin when you saw who was striding in.
“Hey!” you started happily, thankful to see such a familiar face. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”
“I will make it a top priority to come visit when it isn’t just for your services,” he chuckled.
“And what is it that I can do for the all mighty High Lord?” A giggle at his playful frown escaped you. “I’ve been looking forward to the new things that you always request.”
“We have a visit to the Day Court and it would be nice to have some new attire for the ball that Helion will be hosting.”
“That sounds so nice,” you sighed dreamily. “The same sizes as last time?”
“The females, yes.” He gave you a smile that was full of love and admiration that nearly brought tears to your eyes. “However, Azriel and Cassian will need to be measured since they usually do not wear this particular form of attire.”
“Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll have everything set up.” You searched through the files under your desk to pull out the Inner Circles information. “I can go ahead and get what you have in mind so I can get it done in time.”
Rhysand gave you a small smile, the adoration still shining in his eyes. You were never sure why he looked at you in such a way but you appreciated it anyway. He was the only thing that came close to a friend since there were times where he would stay with you and talk for hours before departing again. You had no family since they were lost in the war but you were thankful that you had been able to take refuge in Velaris.
There were times when the High Lord would try to offer to move you into a larger store in a better part of the city. It was a sweet offer but you felt as if it was charity and you didn’t want any pity. The Night Court black that was used was always beautiful to you and your friend seemed to like the little details that you added to make it stand out a bit more while still fitting his court. 
Your store stayed in business simply because of Rhysand’s orders for his family because you made everything for them. He always assured you that they loved their dresses and gowns but there was always an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place when he did so. Despite that, you always put everything that you had into it. His family was important and special. All of them were nothing like you. Just a little nobody that had nothing but your little shop to keep you busy.
It wasn’t until three hours later that the High Lord left did you realize just how alone that you truly were. You wished that you had a family like he did but you forced your mind to remember how happy that you were for him. There were so many that you had come across in your life that only had half of what he did and even then, there wasn’t much happiness in it.
The next day, you made your way out to begin your search for the things that you would be able to find in town when you saw someone you recognized. It was one of the High Lady’s sisters but you weren’t sure which one it was. You did your best to not be noticed as the female spoke to another one but you were pretty sure that you wouldn’t be. 
“Where did you get your dress, Elain?” the female asked.
“This old thing?” Elain looked down at her dress, one that you had made, with her nose scrunched in distaste. “It came from some nobody seamstress. Rhys has never told us anything else.”
“Well, I think it’s beautiful.” The female’s head tilted slightly with a raised eyebrow. “It seems like you don’t like it.”
“It’s definitely not my favorite,” Elain huffed, scrunching her nose in the process.
Unable to hear anymore of the conversation, you turned and darted back to your shop. So many feelings had hit you all at once and you weren’t sure where to start as you began sobbing once you were in the safety of the building that you also lived in. You began doubting yourself and the work that you loved while also wondering if the male that you considered your friend has been lying to you all of this time. 
Even though you had cried yourself to sleep in the early afternoon, you were still unable to pull yourself out of bed the next morning. You could barely hear the knock on the front door but you ignored it. You had already felt like no one of any importance but the words that you had overheard only proved it. Not only was it from a customer but also from someone who would be able to destroy what tiny bit of name that you had for yourself in the city within an instant. Facing Rhysand again would be one of the hardest things that you had to do in a long time but you refused to let him down.
You allowed yourself to mope in bed for the remainder of the day in hopes that you would feel a bit better the next day. No sooner than you opened your store, the bell rang and you felt the High Lord’s power throughout the entirety of the small building.
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Azriel had felt a bit frustrated when his brother dragged him out of bed and rushed him through his breakfast. He wasn’t sure what the hurry was, not seeing the big deal in getting fitted for new suits and leathers. In truth, he did need them but he felt as if it could’ve waited until a bit later in the day. His High Lord had a hint of eagerness to him that wasn’t so present unless it came to his mate or son.
He was only annoyed further when they arrived at what he could swear was the smallest shop in the entire city and there was no answer even after Rhysand had all but beat the door down. The store couldn’t even be considered to be in the district where most of the stores were but he was somewhat relieved because he was able to spend the rest of his day as he wanted.
Rhysand did the same thing the following day which had both him and Cassian grumbling about doing the same thing two days in a row. Thankfully, the store was open and his brother walked in as if he owned the place with a small smile on his face.
“Is everything alright?” Rhys asked the female at the front desk hesitantly, a hint of worry in his voice. “We came by as planned but there was no answer.”
“I had some business to take care of,” you muttered, causing him and Cassian to glance at each other in confusion. 
Neither of them knew who you were nor even knew of the business that was being run here. He watched carefully as you gathered what was needed and even though you carried yourself in a confident manner, you kept your eyes downcast. It was as if you didn’t have it in you to look them in the eyes. You had obviously done so with his brother but it appeared as if it wasn’t the case today.
From what he could see, he could tell that you were beautiful but what would confirm it the most would be some form of eye contact. He watched you carefully as you started with Cassian, fully committed to doing your job to perfection. You started with his other brother’s legs for his height and he only saw a smirk pulling on Cassian’s lips that he was trying to hold back. For reasons unknown to Azriel, it had him frowning and almost bristling at the sight.
You continued on with your work in silence except for a hum here or there when the High Lord asked you questions as if you didn’t want to speak to any of them. It wasn’t until you moved to him did he truly pay attention to you. He wasn’t sure why but the sight of you on your knees in front of him, with your notebook in hand, had heat creeping onto his face. The quietest snicker came from Cassian who had moved behind him. When he turned to glare at him, he noticed a stern look on Rhysand’s face that had his eyebrows furrowing.
Azriel’s body stiffened when your fingers brushed lightly against him to take other measures. He sucked in a quiet breath when you moved behind him to measure the slits for his wings and your fingers just barely grazed them. It sent a jolt of what felt like electricity through him. He cursed himself silently because it wasn’t the first time that his wings had been touched but there was something about yours that nearly had him wanting more of the contact.
He was slightly disappointed when you were finished too quickly for his liking and moved to Rhysand. You still kept your eyes downcast from all of them and it seemed to have the slightest frown tugging at the High Lord’s lips. Cassian continued to watch as if he too was wondering what was going on. 
“Everything should be ready in three weeks if that’s alright,” you said, giving Rhysand the briefest glance before returning to your desk.
Rhys ushered them out quickly and was unusually quiet. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that he was brooding. Neither Cassian nor himself knew anything about you so they weren’t sure what to say but his own curiosity got the better of him.
“Who is she?”
“No one for you to be concerned about,” the High Lord answered. “And you will stay away from her.”
He was given a stern glance but he could note the protective fondness in his eyes. It only caused him to wonder more but he kept quiet on the matter.
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You were thankful for the time being that you didn’t have a lot of customers. The work of making suits and gowns for seven people would take a while but you were thankful that it gave you a break from your thoughts. You didn’t waste any waking hour, putting your greatest effort into it all in hopes that the gowns would be appreciated more.
A week had passed faster than you had originally imagined that it would and the only break in your concentration was the bell to your shop opening for the second time during the time. You shouldn’t have been surprised to see Rhysand before you, a small frown on his face as he looked down at you.
“As promised, I have come to spend some quality time with the most beautiful seamstress that I know,” he said with a grin that contradicted the caution in his eyes.
“You come to visit or check on my progress?” you asked, eyeing him for a moment before returning your work.
“As I said, I’ve come to visit,” he repeated gently. “Are you alright? You’re acting differently.”
“Fine,” you answered a bit too quickly to be believable. 
“I apologize when I say that I do not believe you.” There was a worried frown on his face that made your heart clench and tears almost formed in your eyes. “Talk to me.”
“I just..” You trailed off, unsure what to say or how to say it. “Why does it matter? I’m just trying to balance everything.”
It was a lie and they both knew it. There was worried determination on his face and you knew that he wouldn’t let it go but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what happened. It could possibly cause a divide or rift between the family that you thought so highly of and you couldn’t have that.
“You’re evading,” he replied flatly before his face softened when he gripped your chin lightly to keep your attention on him. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“Your family is very important,” you muttered. “I just want to be sure that I make everything perfectly. There’s so many ideas going through my head and I’m just trying to be sure to keep it all together.”
“You are no less important than any of us.” His matter of fact words paired with his gentle smile had a small one forming on your face as well. “As a matter of fact, you are just as important if not more so than my entire family combines.”
“Why?” You moved out of his grip and stared at him flatly. “Look at m-”
“I do see you. Every single time I come in here.” Rhysand continued with a charming smile that caused you to huff. “There is nothing wrong with you.”
“Then why-” You stopped short, reminding yourself to not give into your emotions. “I have Feyre’s gown completed and this one that I’m almost finished with is for Nesta. Do you want to see?”
He nodded with a grin and followed you to a separate room in the back where you kept the outfits that you made. You watched him carefully for his reaction as he stared at the gown and then blew out a silent breath of relief at the genuine smile on his face.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, turning to grin brightly at you. “She will love it and this just may become her new preferred gown.”
“Promise?” you asked tentatively while you tried to decipher if he was lying or not.
“On my mate’s life,” he answered as a look of adoration etched into his features once again. 
“Is there anything that I should change about Amren’s, Mor’s, Nesta’s or..” You swallowed hard, the action not going unnoticed by the High Lord. “Elain’s? I want everything to be absolutely perfect for everyone for such an important event.”
“No.” He shook his head but the certainty in his eyes was answer enough. “I look forward to seeing what the rest look like.”
“I’ve made these my top priority so the leathers-”
“Can wait until you’re finished with these,” he replied. “What they have now will work until later.”
“Okay,” you whispered, gripping onto the kind reassurances to push you through your self deprecating thoughts before he pulled you into a tight embrace.
“I wish there was a way to make you realize just how special you are,” he muttered, squeezing tighter to emphasize it. “You remind me so much of my sister.”
Your eyes filled with tears immediately because it was no secret about what happened to his mother and sister. The fact that had such a high opinion of you that he would compare you to someone so important to him had you sobbing. He simply held you until your tears finally ceased and stayed with you for a few hours before returning to his court duties.
By the time that the door shut behind him, you felt a bit better but knew that you would never compare to any of them.
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Azriel wasn’t able to keep his mind off of you while they waited for their new suits and gowns for the upcoming ball. He wasn’t sure why but despite his High Lord’s orders, he walked past your shop every so often to simply get a glimpse of you. Only once did he get a full view of your face and it took his breath away as he saw you smile at the only customer that he had noted that you had.
It was reaching the three week mark that you had given his brother and he was itching to ask the High Lord if he would let him retrieve the order. His gut told him that Rhysand wouldn’t allow it. He wasn’t sure why you were kept such a tight secret from all of them but Azriel knew that his brother meant it when he had given the order to stay away from you. 
“I can’t go with you today.” Azriel stopped just outside of the study, listening to Rhys as he spoke to Cassian. “I have to leave in a couple of hours to pick up our outfits for our trip to Day Court.”
“I don’t understand why none of us-”
“As I’ve said,” the High Lord growled, his voice low and almost deadly. “You need not worry about her.”
“Yea but she-”
“Is not a topic of discussion.”
The snappy tone of their brother had Cassion falling quiet on the topic but Azriel’s curiosity about you wouldn’t let him sit idly by. It was almost as if he was being pulled towards you and he couldn’t ignore it. He slipped out as silently as he had come in and disobeyed Rhysand’s orders. Even though the plan had already been arranged, Azriel wasn’t bothered with the anger that would surely ensue about him taking the initiative that was purely personal.
The bell on your store’s door sounded as he entered but you were so focused on your work that you didn’t notice his presence until he cleared his throat. You jumped from your stool, startled from the noise before you finally looked at him. It felt like the entire world stopped when you both made eye contact and he felt the one thing that he was beginning to believe that he would never have.
Your eyes went wide and you stumbled backwards, tripping over your stool and fell to the ground in surprise as the golden thread connected the two of you. He rushed as fast as he could through the small area, his wings knocking some items over even though his wings were tucked in tightly behind him. A breath of relief escaped him when you didn’t recoil from him when he reached to help you up.
“I- I don’t- What?” you gasped through heavy breaths as you stood.
“I’m- I’m sorry,” he stuttered, unsure what to say since he didn’t know what you were thinking. 
“No. Don’t be. I just..” You took a deep breath before fully looking at him again. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Your words barely registered in his mind as he stared back at you, your beauty captivating him the longer that he did so. There were so many things that he wanted to say but at the same time being unsure since he didn’t know you. No sooner than he could open his mouth to reassure you, the front door opened and he felt the High Lord’s power filling the store. His brother was angry beyond belief with him.
“Y/N, would you mind stepping outside for a moment while I have a word with my spymaster.”
Azriel could feel the uncertainty and anger flowing off of you but you nodded after swallowing audibly. Once you were out in the streets, Rhysand had him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him harshly into the wall. There was nothing but pure, unadulterated anger on his brother’s face.
“Did I or did I not tell you to stay away from her?” Rhys growled.
“Yes but-”
“But what, Azriel?” he snapped at him. “Are you simply attracted to females that I insist on you staying away from?”
“It isn’t like that,” he tried. “Why are you so insistent on no one knowing about her? None of us even knew that she existed until now.”
“Because I want to protect her.” Azriel was released before Rhysand took a few steps back. “She reminds me too much of my sister and I refuse to let anything happen to her. If that means keeping all of you clueless to her existence then that is what I will do.”
Azriel’s thought began flooding in all at once, making it hard to keep up with what his shadows were whispering and the things that he wanted to say. He understood now what his High Lord’s motivations were but there was no way that he could let his mate go. Not after finally finding it after the centuries that he had waited for it. As he went to explain what had happened, the door opened again and it had your scent filling the room.
“I don’t want to be the reason that there’s trouble,” you mumbled as you looked at your feet.
“You are not-”
“We’re mates,” Azriel said, interrupting Rhys.
The High Lord’s eyes widened when he swirled around to look at him. There was uncertainty in them while he stared at him before looking back at the female that he held in such high regards. For the first time in a long time, his brother was speechless and Azriel was honestly shocked. 
“I don’t deserve it,” you continued, finally looking up with tear filled eyes. “I don’t deserve someone as special and amazing as he is.”
“Why?” he asked in a raspy voice.
“You- All of you-” You paused, taking a deep breath. “You’re all so much better than me to the point that some of my dresses aren’t even liked.”
“What do you mean, Y/N?”
Your eyes switched between Rhysand and himself before stopping on the former. The tears that began flowing down your face made him unable to not go to you, placing his hands on each cheek in hopes of calming you.
“I heard Elain telling someone that she didn’t like-”
“Screw her and her opinion,” he growled before apologizing when your eyes went wide.
“There is a dress in particular that she isn’t the most fond of,” Rhys answered and you looked around him to gaze at the High Lord. “It is the only one and she simply doesn’t care for certain parts of the style. It has nothing to do with you or how amazing that your work is. It is simply a personal problem.”
“She said I was a nobody,” you sniffled, the words causing his body to shake slightly in anger. 
“That’s my fault.” Your brows furrowed at Rhys’s words. “You’re an amazing female and I didn’t want to risk putting you into danger by letting all of them know who you are.”
“But I-”
“Give us a chance,” Azriel whispered, pulling your eyes back to his. “Please.”
“Why don’t we start with the upcoming ball?” Rhys gave you a small smile when you looked at him cautiously. “It’d be a high honor for my shadowsinger to have you by his side.”
“It would,” he agreed.
Your bright smile in return for his words sent his heart fluttering and a rare, genuine smile adorned his face. He knew right then and there that there was nothing that he wouldn’t do to keep that smile on your face. 
It was the start of something new that he couldn’t wait to see unfold.
@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain
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lukesaprince · 4 months
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Rich Part 22
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Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. Y/n meets Anne, her Dad finds out the truth and an unexpected encounter has devastating results.
Warning: Smut, bj (the beginning of one anyway), penetration, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. Mentions of revenge p*rn, Ethan, bad mental health. There is also a detailed account of a panic attack and negative thinking so please be mindful of this. PLEASE lmk if I've missed anything ❤️
Word count: 21k+
Author's note: Look I'll always say I'm an angst writer not an angst reader so I hope you guys enjoy reading a bit of it... At this point Rich won't be finishing up at Part 25 as expected because I just don't think I'll fit everything I want to within three more chapters so you're welcome I guess. ANYWAY happy reading muah
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“Okay… y’ready?” Harry asked, bopping his knee anxiously. 
“I’m ready.” You confirmed, smiling. 
You totally weren’t ready. 
This was the first meet-the-parents thing you had ever done in your life and you were fucking terrified. You didn’t want to come across as too immature or young but you also wanted to be yourself. Compared to Harry you were young and even if you had things in common, you were as Gen Z as they came and the last thing you wanted was Anne thinking you were some kid. 
From what Harry told you, Anne wasn’t a judgmental person. She was a sweetheart and seemed so gentle and kind. Like your mum but without the hint of crazy. He did say Anne liked a good glass of wine, which both you and your mum enjoyed as well so that was one thing you had in common. 
You were definitely overthinking it way too hard but Harry being nervous made you nervous. You just wanted her to like you. It was a lot harder meeting her for the first time via Facetime too because there wasn’t really a lot of external stimuli to chat about if things got quiet. You weren’t sharing a meal or doing an activity where the conversation could drift naturally. This all felt so formal.
Harry assured you that he’d jump in at any point it got quiet but that he didn’t think he’d need to because Anne loved to talk about anything and everything. That made you feel a bit better but you still felt like your inside matched how Harry looked on the outside. Anxious.
You didn’t really want to make it worse by talking about your own nerves, especially since Harry had been talking about it all damn day. He kept bringing it up through text and called you double what he usually did while he was at work. He was trying to appear calm and in every conversation he was making sure you were still okay with meeting his mum. 
You knew that it was because he was nervous about it. Harry was practically losing sleep over it and he didn’t really understand why. He didn’t expect to be so nervous about it, especially since he wasn’t phased by your parents knowing about you two. 
He just loved you so much, so fucking much, and you were one of the most important people in his life. The most important. His mum was one of the other important people and maybe that’s why he was all in knots about it. 
His mum’s opinion on you mattered a great deal to him and even if it wouldn’t change how he felt about you, or whether he continued seeing you, it still mattered. She is the closest family member he has and he wants you two to get along more than anything else. 
Deep down, all along all Harry ever wanted was a family. Maybe not the kids and nuclear family model, but family. He could play it off and think that meaningless hookups and money could satisfy him for the rest of his life and for a while it did. It truly did. But meeting you changed everything and now all he wanted was his family together. 
He wanted a life with friends that he loved, a partner he adored who adored him back and he wanted his family back together again. Harry had two out of three of those things and now his family was the last thing he needed to tackle. 
Harry knew Anne would love you because he loved you, but he was still riddled with anxiety. The cause was more than just this initial FaceTime of course, but this was one of the many things he was having a hard time dealing with. He felt blessed that he had you to support him through everything. 
You placed a gentle hand on his knee, applying a little pressure so it would stop shaking. “Are you ready?” 
Harry nodded, grabbing your chin affectionately, “yeah, m’love. Just haven’t introduced many partners to her before. Not that any of them were nearly as important as you.”
Not that any of them were as important as you. 
Oh did you fucking love this man. 
“I hope she likes me” you whispered, puckering your lips against his thumb when he brushed it against your mouth.  
“She will.” He assured you while smiling fondly. “What’s not to like, baby?” 
“thank you…” you whispered, pecking him quickly. “I love you.”
“Love you.” He murmured, wanting to say so much more only to be interrupted by the ringing sound of his laptop. It was far easier to do FaceTime with both of you on the bigger screen and this way you wouldn’t be as squished up. 
You quickly adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it laid nicely, trying not to bite away the lipgloss you applied specifically for this call. You wanted to look nice to meet Anne for the first time, even if it was via FaceTime. 
The screen lit up with Anne’s gorgeous face and smile when Harry answered the call. His hand fell to your thigh immediately, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together. 
“Hi mum.” Harry greeted with a bright smile. His entire demeanor lit up when he saw her and you could visibly feel his body relax a little. You had never seen Harry interact with any family before so it was just so… nice to watch. You felt warm inside even after two words. 
“Harry! Oh my gosh, your beard. It’s so lush. You look wonderful.” Anne beamed, her face bright and so warm. You had seen photos of her before, even stalked her Instagram a little to see what vibe she gave off and she was even lovelier than usual. 
“Thanks,” Harry sheepishly responded, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t grow it out very often, at least not to the length it had gone now. It was only when he was on holiday usually. But you liked his moustache and the feeling of his facial hair between your thighs so he was more than happy to give you what you wanted. Harry liked the look too, he just preferred being cleanly shaved for work. 
You were obviously more important than his job. 
“And you must be y/n! Oh, you’re gorgeous.” She cooed, looking right at you, “She’s gorgeous, H.” Her eyes flicked to Harry. 
“I know. Absolutely breathtaking” Harry brought your intertwined fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before setting it back down on your knee. 
“Thank you.” You blushed, “it’s so nice to meet you, Anne. Harry’s told me so much about you.” You squeezed Harry’s hand, feeling like you were in some sort of job interview. You were lost for words and so nervous. You couldn’t relax even if you wanted to. 
“Oh, I’m sure he has, darling.” She laughed. It was so warm and homely, much like Harry’s. “He’s such a storyteller, aren’t you, H? Always has been y’know, even as a kid. He used to dress up and perform plays for Gem and me. Oh, he was so cute!”
“Mum.” Harry scolded. Of course, it barely took a minute before she spoke about his childhood. He knew if you were all in her kitchen she’d have the photo albums out before you even arrived. 
“Oh shush, you. Don’t pretend you didn’t love it. He was such a little actor. A good singer too.” Anne replied, happy to be sharing stories about her son with an actual girlfriend of his. 
“Yeah he is,” you agreed, “He always leads our singing in the car.” You finished off with a giggle.
“I do not.” Harry defended.
“You so do! He always leads, Anne. Always.” You laughed, earning
“That’s not true, I sing plenty thank you very much.” Harry defended, knowing you were just riling him up when in fact your car singalongs were some of his favourite moments and a regular occurrence when you were out and about.
“Mhmm. Sure.” You teased, earning a pinch on your thigh in reprimand.  
“We’ve got one of those little karaoke machines here, y/n, and every Christmas Harry used to do a singalong with all the kids. He said it was because they loved it but we all knew it was because he did.” Anne smiled fondly at the memory, but you could feel the sudden shift in the air at the mention of Christmas. Something Harry hadn’t been to for years. “Anyway, that was a while ago…” she brushed off, but you could feel the way Harry was tensed against you. “Harry tells me you’re studying? Marketing, right?” 
“Yeah,” you confirmed, giving Harry’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold onto you and intertwined your fingers with his other hand. It immediately made him calm down again. He wasn’t usually so sensitive but with so much going on and the possibility of him actually being at his family’s Christmas this year, it hit him a little harder than usual. It wasn’t Anne’s intention at all and Harry knew that, but it was hard to think about the years he missed. 
“I’m doing a double bachelor's degree in marketing and arts. It’s my final year so I’ve only got one semester left and then I’m free. Finally.” You finished with a nervous laugh. 
“Oh wow, that’s amazing  You must be so proud of your achievements,” She gushed like she was proud of you and it was the first time she had ever met you. Her energy was so kind and warm, exactly how Harry described. “I remember from Harry how hard it can be to be in university. All that study and stress. You’re working as well, aren’t you?” 
“Um thank you,” You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling a little shy at her sudden praise. “And I am, yeah. I’m working at a cafe on campus a couple days a week, sometimes more depending on my workload. It can be a lot sometimes but I’m trying to make the most out of it. I’ve made really good friends and we all live close by or have classes together so I want to have as much fun as I can before it’s all over. It’s crazy how fast it’s gone already.”
“Well from what Harry’s told me, you’re smart and very capable. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She replied earnestly, “do you have plans for after graduation?”
“I’m not 100% sure yet, actually. I always had this idea of going straight into work and if I find something I’m interested in I’ll definitely go for it but I don't know… I don’t think I’m in a rush to get there. I’d like to travel for a bit, maybe take some time to figure out what I want to do. I’d like to do my masters eventually as well so I’m not sure if I want to do that before going into full-time work or work a bit then do it. I’ll see how I go, really.” you smiled sheepishly, looking at Harry briefly. His entire focus was on you and he was squeezing your waist and hand encourgagingly. “For now I just want to get good results.”
“She’s incredibly smart and talented,” Harry complimented, kissing your temple lovingly. You blushed at the show of affection, especially in front of his mum. You loved it, you really did, it was just so unfamiliar to be so open in front of family. You two hadn’t even seen your mum together yet. “Whatever she does, she’ll be amazing at.”
“I’m sure you will be, y/n.” Anne echoed, feeling her own heart burst with how affectionate Harry was being with you. She had never seen him like this with anyone before. Not since he was a young boy anyway. 
“Thank you…” You whispered, smiling up at him. His gaze was so loving and so sincere. It was like you were his entire universe. You were getting way too flustered and at this point, you still hadn’t asked Anne any questions. You wanted the attention off yourself already. “And what about you, Anne? Harry told me you write children’s novels?”
“And illustrate.” She proudly added, “Oh it’s my passion…”
The phone call lasted a good hour. It was just a natural back-and-forth conversation between you all that felt so comfortable and so homely. After you finally relaxed and Harry did as well, it was easy to enjoy talking to her. Anne was so lovely and so sweet and funny, you already loved her. Archie of course got some limelight and you were able to show pictures of your family and friends and share so many details about your life.
It was only the first meeting and you felt like you were connecting well with her already. Even though Harry said he’d jump in if it got quiet, it just never did. You two were as chatty as anything and Harry barely got to speak unless he was directly addressed. It was wonderful. Anne never made your age seem like it was an issue, though you could tell she was surprised when you told her exactly how old you were. 
Harry told her more about you after you agreed to meet her and showed her photos of you and all that, but at that point, you realised that he never specified how old you were. You thought he would’ve been completely honest about your age gap and for the most part, he must’ve been, but it was a little surprising to see that look on her face.
It was only fleeting and if you didn’t see her surprised reaction, you would’ve never known because her attitude didn’t change. She seemed genuine in every way, but you hoped that she didn’t have any ill feelings towards you because of your age. It would’ve been understandable of course, especially considering your mum’s reaction to Harry, but you really liked her already and you wanted her to like you back.
“Alright mum, I’ll talk to you soon.” Harry bid his goodbye.
“Bye, darling. It was so nice meeting you too, y/n. Hopefully, it isn’t too long before I get to see you in person.” Anne waved into the camera, blowing you two a kiss through the screen.
“Hopefully not.” You smiled while waving back to her “Bye, Anne.”
The screen turned black once the call ended, leaving you two (and Archie) alone again. “So… how do you think it went?” You asked after a moment of silence. 
He grinned and cupped your face with both hands to look at you, “how do I think it went? Baby, you two didn’t stop talking the entire hour. I think it went perfectly.”
“Really?” You whispered, pecking his mouth before pulling back just enough so your noses were brushing together. “You think she liked me? She seemed so surprised when I told her how old I am.” 
Harry nodded, “I think she loved you. I told you she would.”
“I hope so because I loved her. She was so sweet.”
“She’ll love you saying that.” Harry grinned, humming before kissing you once more. He closed his eyes while pulling away, “mmh. I love you for saying that. I love you anyway, but even more now that you love my mum.” 
“And here I thought you couldn’t get more obsessed with me. All it took was impressing your mother and you’re kissing me and-”
Funny enough, it was a kiss paired with a firm hand around your throat that interrupted your words. The kiss changed from a smooth brush of your lips to something that had you whimpering and gasping for air in a matter of seconds. “I am obsessed with you.” He murmured, pulling away just enough to say the words before he kissed you again. You smiled into it and gripped his hair in a firm tug. 
“Can I… can I say something that might make you more obsessed with me?” You offered, panting a little while letting your hand fall to his thigh to give it a firm squeeze.  
“Impossible but I’m listening?” He grinned, leaning back against the couch. He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you towards him, hooking his hand under your knee to drag you across his lap so you were straddling him. It wasn’t meant to be sexual necessarily, just because he wanted you as close as possible. 
His arms wrapped around you as soon as you were settled and he was happy to slide them under your-well his nice knit jumper you stole for the call. It didn’t seem necessary to put a bra on when you two were just spending time at home today and only your shoulders up would be shown in the call. He was able to feel the entire expanse of your bare back and how soft your skin was. It was driving him mad. 
“I’ve been thinking… about London.” You swallowed thickly, a little nervous about the conversation you were about to have, “About Italy…” 
It was hard to communicate properly when his hands were rubbing all over your back and sides, his fingers even grazing the sides of your breasts for a moment before returning backwards. You had been thinking about the trip intensely over the last couple of days since he first brought it up to you and all the pros and cons of going. 
Your main concern was his family, but it wasn’t just that. When you two spoke about it, it was before your mum knew and there was so much uncertainty surrounding your parents. You knew you wouldn’t have been able to go on the trip without telling them about it and you couldn’t exactly do that without telling them the truth. Now that your mum knew and was happy for you… it kind of felt like that situation wasn’t a reason not to go on the trip anymore.
University was another concern but Harry was right in saying that the trip would barely overlap with your classes. Your semester ended just over a week before the trip, as did your assignments. You only had two exams and they were both luckily early on in the timetable, like even your university wanted you to go on this trip. They didn’t leave you much space for when Harry wanted to leave, barely a few days but you could manage. 
As for money… Harry already offered to cover everything… multiple times. You knew that if you did end up going it was non-negotiable for him to foot the bill as he simply wouldn’t have it any other way and while the thought kind of mortified you, you also knew he only offered because he genuinely wanted to do it. Besides, even if Harry offered to pay for it all, you still wanted to have your own money and realistically… you did. With how Harry paid you for months while you dog sat for him, you had really healthy savings and while most of it was reserved for actual living and your trip at the end of the year, you could afford to spend some of it. 
There were more reasons to go than not to go and you hoped that the concerns you did have could just be talked about. 
“Yeah? What about it?” Harry scratched your back lightly, making goosebumps rise all over your skin until you shivered against him. 
“Would you… would you still want me to go? If I could?” 
“You want to come? Seriously?” His eyes widened in glee and he perked up instantly. 
You laughed softly while playing with the curls at the back of his head, “I do and I can make it work with school it’s just… are you sure it’s not too soon? To… y’know, see your house and your childhood town and for us to spend an entire month together? We’ve only been together a couple of months. What if you get sick of me?”
“I’d never get sick of you.” He defended with a soft smile, hugging you close to him. “I want you to come more than anything, baby. Truly. It would make me so happy.”
“And what about your family? I want to support you and I’m happy to be there for you but I don’t want to overstep and I don’t want to… I don’t know, like, take away anything from your healing. I still think this is something you should do by yourself.”
“I understand what you’re saying, y/n and I get it.” His hands settled to your lower back in a loose hold while he maintained eye contact with you, “This is something I’ve been afraid of for years and I know I need to face it by myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you meeting anyone.” He flashed a soft smile, wrapping his arms properly around you. He hugged you against him, loving the feeling of having you close to him during a conversation like this. “Sure, Gem’s birthday might be off the table because who knows how that’s going to go, but I’d still love for you to meet my mum and… whoever else would be willing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back, but I’d like to think you’d be received with open arms.”
Truthfully, Harry didn’t know what to expect from his visit home. He kept in contact with some of his closest cousins and friends, but there were still those who never really forgave him for what he did to Gemma. He wasn’t sure if they’d come around after the effort he was about to put into trying to mend that relationship, but they were all loving and earnest people. Harry hoped they’d be willing to forgive him. 
He was trying not to get too hopeful though. 
“Even if I’m not… received with open arms, I’d understand it.” You replied softly. “I just don’t want to be one of the reasons your family doesn’t want to give you a chance, that’s all.”
If this situation was reversed and your family member was coming to visit to try and mend things, only to bring his very new and young girlfriend along with him, you’d be hesitant for sure. It was why you had no expectations to meet anyone or attend any family reunions. You were very prepared to be spending days alone and exploring the city while Harry reconnected with everyone. You had always wanted to solo travel so you actually hoped you’d be able to spend some days just walking around by yourself. 
“Y/n… my sweet, sweet girl, you won’t be.” He assured, bringing his hands from under your jumper to cup your face. “There may be a chance they’re not very receptive to me, but that’ll be with or without you there…” He smiled lovingly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. His touch was an instant calm and you found yourself leaning into it heavily. “Look, I understand if you may feel a little awkward so I won’t push you to do anything, but if things are going well I don't see why you couldn’t meet everyone. I know my mum would want to have you over for dinner. Not sure if you’ll be able to get out of that. ”
You laughed softly at his comment and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’d love to meet your mum.” You declared softly, kissing him again. “Okay…” You whispered while pulling away, “I’m in.”
“Yeah?” He grinned.
“Yeah.” You echoed, nodding before squealing when Harry suddenly scooped you up from the couch. 
“How ‘bout we celebrate then, hm?” He mused, kissing you between words as he very quickly made his way upstairs. You laughed a little but agreed nonetheless, kissing him as much as possible until you were lying down on his bed. 
Archie had followed you upstairs with a toy in his mouth, tail wagging like you were all about to play a game until Harry quickly uttered those three words that made Archie whine like a sad puppy dog. “Harry, he’s crying.” You pouted, looking around Harry’s legs to make eye contact with the sad little boy. 
“He’ll be fine.” Harry laughed, “go on, Arch, go downstairs.” 
After another huff, Archie trotted off with his toy in his mouth, allowing Harry to close the bedroom door and leave you two alone. He turned back to face you, eyes dark and full of promise of what he was about to do to you. You couldn’t have been more excited. 
“I can’t believe we’re finally christening your bed.” You teased, pushing your sweatpants down your legs until they got caught around your ankles. Harry was quick to help you and pulled them off the rest of the way.
“Mhmm. It’s been way too long, baby… Still want to get my box of toys out, though. I’ve got a paddle and pink rope with your name on it.” He smirked, dumping your sweatpants onto the floor before pulling off his hoodie and shirt in one go. 
“When I sleep over. Please, when I sleep over…” you murmured, sitting up so Harry could pull your-his knit jumper off to join the growing pile on the floor. He quickly shoved his pants off before settling between your thighs and joining your mouths in a messy heated kiss. 
You’d never get sick of kissing him, not when it felt like an explosion in your belly and a tingling all over your body. Just a single peck had you completely swooning and you’d happily make out with him for hours without doing anything else.
Though knowing you two… it always turned into something else. Something more. 
“Baby there’s so many things I need to do to you. Just need time and privacy so I can make you scream as loud as I fucking want.” His words were low and rumbly, partly disappearing into the seam of your mouth because he just couldn’t part from your lips long enough to get a full sentence out. The fact that he used ‘need’ instead of ‘want’ drove you up the fucking wall and you were suddenly more desperate than ever to touch him.
“I’d do anything for that… anything…” You gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders. His body was so big and heavy over you and you could already feel how hard he was pressed against you. Long and thick and all yours. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself when you thought about being with someone like Harry. 
“Mmh, I know you would.” He hummed, beginning to kiss along your jaw down to your neck. “Bet you’d beg for it too, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, pulling his mouth back to yours by cupping his jaw in both hands. With a little hook of your neck and a very clear ‘lay down’ mumbled into Harry’s mouth, he let you turn your bodies so he was against the bed and you were straddling him. 
“I love seeing you like this” Harry murmured, watching you adjust so you were kneeling between his legs instead of sitting on top of him. You smiled at the compliment and ran your hands over his chest, digging your nails into his skin ever so slightly so he groaned and squeezed your waist.
“I love seeing you like this” You replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love kissing you…” you continued, peppering kisses all over his chest and down to his abs, “...kissing your body, your tattoos…” 
Harry sighed above you, sliding his hand through your hair to sweep it across to one shoulder so it wasn’t covering your face. Every gentle touch of your lips against him had his entire body clenching with need. He knew you could feel it too. 
You took your time running your mouth and tongue over his body, tracing his tattoos and the contours of his muscles. There was just something so fucking sexy about having full access to him like this, of being able to touch and kiss wherever you liked. And you had time, you could take as much time in kissing him and touching him and making him cum in your mouth.
As far as your parents knew, you were out with Lucy for the night. You weren’t particularly sure if your mum believed your lie when you walked out the door after dropping your things off, but you didn’t really pay too much attention to it when your call with Anne was on your mind. There was a change in your schedule this week which allowed you to sleep at your childhood home midweek for once and you took it immediately. Being away from home was harder than ever now that you and Harry were seeing each other and you were getting a bit homesick. 
You loved living by yourself, but you missed the moments you used to have with your parents. Your nightly Netflix binges with your mum and cooking with your dad. It was why you loved to come home and why you tried to spend as much time here as possible. Now that Harry was in the picture… well your homesickness was for him as well as your family.
It always got bad towards the end of the semester too and you were feeling it extra hard this time. You were run down and tired and pushed to your absolute limit and all you wanted to do was go home and be a kid again. Nowadays all you wanted was to curl into Harry’s arms and forget all your responsibilities existed. 
Oh… and you absolutely wanted to do this…
“Especially love these ones…” you continued, kissing over his right fern tattoo before pressing your tongue flat against the leaves. “And biting here…” licking a trail up to his hip, you very happily bit down on the spot right above his waistband before starting to work on making a small hickey there. 
“Shit…” Harry breathed, clenching his jaw. His fingers tightened in your hair, trying to control every cell in his body that wanted to take control of the situation. Your teasing was torturous and his cock was so goddamn sore he didn’t think he’d even be able to last a full minute once you got your mouth on him. At least he hoped that’s where this was going. However, he really did not care as long as you were just touching him in some capacity.
“Wanna know what I really love, though?” You asked, looking directly up at him while tucking your fingers into the waistband of his tight briefs. His cock was pressing angrily against the soft material and all you wanted to do was get your mouth on it. 
“What’s that?”
“Tasting your cock…” you reached down and licked along his length through his underwear, loving the way his filthy moan echoed around the room. “Can I? Please…”
“Fuck… of course you can.” Harry swallowed thickly, almost trembling when you found his tip and sucked ever so gently on it. “Shit baby… take me out.”
Right as you were about to free his cock and finally taste him, the sound of Harry’s doorbell echoed outside his bedroom door. He had an intercom system upstairs and in his kitchen so the sound was always loudest in those two areas. Archie’s barking followed the ringing soon after and you could hear the distinct sound of him jumping around near the front door.
“Who the fuck would be here right now?” Harry cursed, rubbing his hand over his face. 
“Just ignore it. We’re busy.” You shrugged, licking him through his briefs again. You were a big fan of ignoring the door and your phone when you didn’t want to speak with someone but if there was one thing you noticed about your parents and well… Harry’s generation was that they were incapable of putting their phone on silent. 
Harry shuddered and hissed at your hot tongue against his cock and soon the door was the last thing on his mind. “You’re right… you’re right. For the love of god, please continue baby.” He practically pleaded, almost coming at the dazed-doe expression you had on your face. It looked like you were almost enjoying this more than him. Almost. 
You got back to it and kissed along his skin as you pulled his boxers down, following the waistband with your mouth until your lips brushed against the very base of him. His fingers tightened in your hair the further down his length you got until you had licked a trail from his base right to his tip. 
But then the doorbell rang again, just as you were about to pull his underwear completely down his thighs. 
“Fuck. This better be fucking important” Harry cursed again, reluctantly letting go of your hair. You made a noise of indignation and pulled his boxers back up for him before making space so he could get up from the bed. You flopped onto your back, looking at him with straight annoyance at the fact he was taking his cock away from you. “I’ll be right back, y/n. Right back.” He promised, reaching down to peck your mouth. “I’m just going to see who it is, okay?” 
All Harry had to do was walk a little down his hallway where the intercom was and he could speak to whoever was at the gate. He could do it from his phone too but he left that downstairs and there was no way he was walking all the way down there with a sore cock just to turn away whoever was trying to sell him something. 
“Hurry upppp.” You complained, already impatient with him leaving you. 
“Just be patient, y/n.” Harry tutted, trying not to show how dizzy he was by how eager you were to suck him off. You could give him head every day or once a month and he’d be as eager and grateful for it every single time. There was just something about enthusiastic head that drove Harry up the fucking wall. 
Harry adjusted his cock in his boxers before pressing the video button to see who was at his gate and when the clear image popped up, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Uhh… y/n?”
“Yeah?” you called back, staring up at the ceiling while clenching and unclenching the duvet in your hands to try and distract yourself from how horny you were.
“It’s your mum.”
“What!?” You shot up from the bed immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. “What the hell is she doing here?” 
It was an immediate cause of panic for the two of you, like you were two teenagers being caught having sex after your parents came home too early. But neither of you were teenagers and you were in the privacy of your own home. Well, Harry’s home.
“I don’t know! What do I do?” Even Harry was panicking, mostly at the loss of his time with you but also because he had no idea what your mum wanted. As bad as it was, he hadn’t spoken to her properly since she found out about you two. He hadn’t seen her due to his work schedule and he didn’t really feel right going over for a cup of tea to talk about your relationship without you being present. 
“Just answer it, I don’t know!?”
“Okay… shit. Okay.” Harry cleared his throat before pressing the call button to speak to your mum, “Hi Jules, everything alright?”
“Is my daughter in there?” 
You pressed your hands to your face and groaned into them, already recognising the slight tinge of drunkenness in her voice. Even through the intercom, you could identify the one, potentially one and a half glasses of wine she had. 
“I know she’s there, Harry, so I suggest you let me in so we can all chat.” Jules continued.
Harry looked back at you and took his finger off the button, giving you a look that basically asked, ‘so what should I do?’. 
“Well we don’t exactly have a choice, do we? I can’t lie to her again.” 
“I’ll be right down, Jules.”
Barely two minutes later you were opening the front door and letting your mum into Harry’s house. It was possibly the weirdest situation you had ever been in and you didn’t have the slightest idea why she'd be here.
“Mum, what are you doing here? You can’t just show up like this!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms when her eyes landed on Harry’s knit sweater. Both of you were in a severe rush to get your clothes back on and you opted to greet her so he’d have a little more time to sort himself out. He was as hard as anything upstairs and there was no way he was coming back down without trying to get rid of it. 
“I can and I will. You lied to me, y/n. I thought telling me about you two was so you wouldn’t lie.”
“I couldn’t exactly openly say that I’m spending the afternoon with Harry, could I? You’re being so weird about us still and Dad doesn’t even know.”
“That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep it a secret anymore! You know how dad is, every time he flashes those puppy eyes or makes me dinner I’m ready to spill everything. He knows I’m hiding something. You two need to tell him and-” she stopped herself abruptly, “where even is Harry? This is for all of us to talk about not just you and me. He hasn’t even come to talk to me too, by the way. Just so you know.”
“I apologise for that,” Harry interjected, making himself known as he walked down the stairs to join you two. He seemed settled enough and far more nonchalant than you were. You still felt and probably looked all flushed and nervous. 
It wasn’t every day your mum interrupted you about to give your boyfriend a fucking blowjob. Hiding where you were was for that exact reason. Because she simply couldn’t deal with you two being alone in his house yet and you knew it. 
“I haven’t seen you since y/n told me you knew and I felt it was important for all of us to discuss it together. I wasn’t avoiding you by any means, Jules.” He flashed that smooth buttery smile as he stood beside you, resting his hand on your lower back. “Should I put the kettle on? Or would you rather have a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”
You had never been more grateful for Harry’s effortless ability to charm women. In a second your mum went from alarmed and ready to tell Harry off to calm and pliant. Part of you fucking hated it, the other was glad she wasn’t giving you that panicked look anymore. 
Barely five minutes later all three of you were sitting on Harry’s dining table with wines in hand. The atmosphere felt like something you had to fight your way through just to breathe. It was awkward and a little tense, something you hoped it wouldn’t be after your mum gave her support to your relationship. But she was clearly upset that he hadn’t spoken to her. 
It was understandable to a degree but at the same time, if Harry was a boy your age she wouldn’t want to grill him so fucking hard. She’d probably call your relationship cute and sweet and ask questions about his family and any siblings. 
Instead, she was asking him the same questions she asked you already, trying to watch with her own eyes whether Harry was earnest and truthful about his affection for you. The wine she drank drove her questions, none thankfully which were about your sex life. She had no problems asking Harry if he worried about dying at 70 and leaving you young at 50 years old, though, which wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have. 
“Mum. Seriously, what are these questions? If he was my age would you ask that?” You scolded, getting a headache. She had no ill intentions of course and she only wanted the best for you, but the way she was grilling Harry was killing you. 
“I want to know if he’s seriously thought about it, y/n. That’s all.” Mum defended. “Have you thought about it?”
Truthfully, until she asked the question the thought had never crossed your mind. Now, you were definitely going to think about it. 
“It’s okay, y/n. She’s just worried as any mother should be.” Harry tried to assure you, bringing your intertwined fingers to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand. He hid it well, but even Harry was taken aback by her questioning and it took a lot to surprise him. He flashed a calm smile before turning to your mum, “I think about our future every day, Jules, and I don’t take it lightly. I just want to make y/n happy. That’s all I want. If I give her 2 years, 5 years, 40 years of happiness I’ll be happy.” 
The thought of that made you giddy. Not the idea of your relationship being limited to two years, but knowing that this could be the rest of your life. 
“Hm.” Your mum responded, sipping her wine. “Okay, well I know where you live so any problems and I know where to find you.” 
“Yes, you do.” Harry chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers found your hair and he fiddled with it in his fingers. It was hard for either of you to forget what was so rudely interrupted earlier. 
Your mum’s eyes drifted to his fingers playing with your hair and you could see the soften of fondness drift in her expression. All she wanted was to make sure you were okay and happy and while her grilling may have annoyed you, you knew it was because she loved you and nothing else. Harry wasn’t a twenty-something-year-old, he was 17 years older than you so your mum had every right to make sure he was treating you well. Especially since you were neighbours for years. 
“Well I’m happy,” Mum finished off her glass and stood up from the table, “now you two are coming for dinner. I’ll give you half an hour and you better make sure you look more put together than you do now.” 
“Mum-” you tried to interject, standing abruptly from the table as well. 
“No. You need to tell your dad. I can’t keep this a secret any longer and neither should you two.” She looked at Harry briefly, but you both knew that this whole situation fell on your shoulders. 
You looked down at Harry who was already looking up at you. He nodded gently, reading the question from your one look. Standing up, he squeezed your shoulder before letting his hand fall to your waist. 
“We’ll be there. It’ll be nice to finally have everything out in the open.” He squeezed your waist, trying to ease some of the anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You nodded and pressed your hand to his lower back, fisting his hoodie. 
“We’ll see you then, mum.” 
Neither you nor Harry could relax once she left. There was no going back to what was interrupted so all you could do was go back upstairs to clean up a little better, which really was just brushing your hair and Harry changing into something a little nicer. You were going to stay in his jumper and your sweats because it was the only clothes you had, but Harry wasn’t one to show up in a sweat set for dinner with your parents, especially when it was such a heavy evening. 
You just hoped that your dad wasn’t going to explode. That he’d have a reaction calm enough that you’d be able to discuss it all without anyone yelling. Your dad was kind and generous and he loved you more than anything, but he was also protective. Fiercely protective. The first time you were hurt by a boy as a young teen he almost went to that boy's house to confront him and it wasn’t to have a chat. 
Him and Harry were… friendly but not exceptionally close. You always found it a little odd that Harry never wanted to become friends with anyone in the neighbourhood, even when he had common interests with them. Both Harry and your dad liked golf and soccer and yet they never did more than a casual chat over the fence or at a barbecue Harry only attended once in a blue moon. 
Now… you were grateful for the distance Harry kept because it meant their relationship was pleasant but not close enough for there to be some sort of loyalty. There was no betrayal for dating someone a bit younger than your parents. No sides where your dad could feel offended for you dating a friend of his. 
Still, there was no prediction of what his reaction would be. 
“Mum, dad! We’re here!” You called through the house as you both walked towards the living area. Harry held your hand tightly, walking closely beside you until you entered kitchen. Once you were in view of your parents he let go of your hand as per what you two agreed. You wanted to settle into dinner before you said anything to your dad, so for now you had to act like you just went over to visit him and your mum extended the invitation for dinner. 
“Hey pumpkin,” Dad greeted immediately, leaving his pot on the stove unattended while he approached you immediately for a hug. “How are you? Missed you.” He squeezed. 
“‘M good. Tired. How was work?” You hugged him back, smiling at the feeling of him kissing the top of your head while he released you from the hug. 
“Same old, P.” He shrugged, squeezing your shoulder before moving onto Harry. “Harry, mate. How are you? ” Tim greeted with a wide grin, extending his hand for Harry to shake until they went into one of those quick bro hugs. “Glad you could join us!”
“‘Course, thank you so much for having me.” Harry smiled back.
Dad was as happy as anything with Harry being present, especially after Harry offered one of the more expensive wine bottles from his collection as a gift. They got into immediate conversation while Dad got back to cooking and Harry joined him. He offered his help and wound up pouring Mum and you a glass of that expensive wine each. Your mum definitely didn’t need it, but you sure as hell did.
It was such a nice domestic scene to watch. The way Harry so effortlessly conversed with your parents and made himself at home in your kitchen to help out was fucking sexy, that’s what it was. Your mum and you were able to just sit at the island bench and watch while your partners did all the work, which is exactly how it was when it was just you and Harry. Of course, only three of you in the room knew the truth, but even so, there was no akwardness or tension in the air.
You were sure that would change once your dad found out, but your mum was as happy as anything and she did know. It was like the conversation you had barely an hour ago settled all the nerves in her stomach. That or she was in her happy place watching dad cook so having Harry easily join into that arrangement made it easier for her to like him.
“Maybe I am a fan of Harry because not only do I get to look at one, but two very sexy men in the kitchen.” Mum whispered to you before exploding in a fit of drunk giggles. You gasped but joined her in her laughter, happy that she was able to joke and relax… even if it was a little weird for her to call your boyfriend sexy.
“What are you two giggling about?” Harry mused, sipping his wine through a smile while looking directly at you.
“It’s better if you don’t know, mate. My wife has a habit of objectifying men.” Dad joked, turning around with the pot of gnocchi to serve it into the bowls Harry got out for him. 
“I do not! That’s slander. Defamation.” Mum defended. 
“Well, I’m flattered.” Harry laughed while grabbing the bottle of wine to offer a refill, “Y/n, would you like some more?”
Truthfully it was hard for you to concentrate on anything being said because if there was one thing your mother did get right, it was that Harry was a sexy man. You had never felt the loss of your interruption more than now. His navy sweater was pushed up to his elbows and he had one hand pressed to the bench while the held the bottle in the other. All you could focus on was his tattooed forearm and the veins in his hand. He was ringless as you two were relaxing after he got home from work and there wasn’t much point putting them back on when he wanted his knuckles deep inside you at some point during the night. 
The absence of his rings did nothing to diminish his attractiveness though because somehow the missing pieces allowed your eyes to focus on his veins instead. The way they made his arm look stronger and his fingers longer… how they tensed and protruded when he gripped your thigh or your throat. All you could fucking think about was him wrapping that same veiny hand around his cock to guide it to your mouth or pussy. 
Jesus…
“y/n?” 
“Hm?” You blinked, suddenly coming back into focus, “Oh, um yeah. Yes please.” 
You sat a little taller and slid your glass towards Harry, finding a cheeky fucking smirk on his face. He said nothing, but you could read everything in his expression. Harry pressed his tongue against his cheek while pouring your wine, focused on the way you bit down on your bottom lip. It was an anxious habit you had since before you two even became friends and was one of the first things he noticed about you that drove him crazy.
Now all he wanted to do was reach against the bench and tug your lip free to correct the behaviour. Seeing you be so enthusiastic at the mention of rope and toys had him going fucking crazy and now it was all he could think about. Having you bent over against his bed while he spanked you or spread wide and tied up for him so he could overstimulate you with a vibrator. 
He was fucked. His cock was still sore as he couldn’t exactly nut one out with your mum downstairs and his mind was dizzy just at the sight of you sitting there all cozy in his sweater. You were makeup free and flushed from wine and it was one of his favourite sights. He loved you in anything really, or nothing at all, but being in your kitchen with your parents and cooking together and enjoying wine like it was a normal occurrence stirred something in him.
It stroked that box inside of him that yearned for a family. The box you had cracked open and kept open just by being you.
“Thank you.” You whispered, suddenly aching for his touch. You just wanted to cuddle into him or hold his hand or anything. 
“You’re welcome, love.” He smiled, moving onto your mum. 
“Alright, dinner’s served. Pumpkin would you mind taking these to the table?” Dad motioned to the bowl of freshly grated parmesan and the salt and pepper shakers. You nodded and grabbed the items, tucking the shakers under your arm so you could carry your wine over to the table at the same time.
Soon Dad and Harry brought the bowls of gnocchi over to the table and you were all happily chatting away. Your mum made a very strategic play of ensuring Harry sat beside you, which was quite easy when she clung to your dad like they just started dating. 
Their affection was one thing you always admired about them. Even after all this time they still hugged and kissed and showed those quiet displays of affection. A peck on the cheek or holding her chair out before she even had an opportunity to sit down in it. Cracking pepper over her food without even needing to be asked because he knew she liked it. A hand on the small of her back and him carrying her shopping bags like the thought of her lifting a single finger even in an activity she enjoyed was torturous.
It was why you found the small gestures Harry did so much more gratifying than any big ones. The every day little things he did, possibly without even thinking about them that just made you feel special and important. His good morning texts and check-ins to ask if you had eaten or drank water, which you always forgot to do in your heavy study grinds. The daily goodnight phone calls where he asked about your day, which yeah sure, bare minimum, but he just treated you like you were the most important thing on the planet. 
It was why you were so head over heels in love with him.
“Dad, I have to tell you something.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, really. Not in the middle of everyone enjoying their gnocchi anyway but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk about it after dinner so if anything went pear shaped at the very least your food wasn’t ruined, but the more you thought about it the more anxious you got and you didn’t want to put it off any longer. 
“Okay…” Dad’s eyes flicked to Harry briefly and you could see the look of concern flash in his eyes. “Everything okay, y/n?”
“Yes. Yes everythings fine I just…” This time it was your turn to look at Harry, whose gaze was soft and adoring. He immediately stopped eating to gave his full attention to you and found your fingers underneath the table for support. “I’m seeing someone.”
Your dad’s eyes widened in surprise and he was quick to look at your mum, “Oh wow. Wow. Did you know about this?” 
She nodded, “Yes. Not for long though.”
“Okay… shit, okay. First boyfriend, I hope. Unless you hid another relationship from me?” His tone was light and you just coughed out an uneasy laugh in response.
“Nope. First one, Dad.”
Harry tried to hide his amusement by rubbing his spare hand over his mouth. He made brief eye contact with Jules across the table who shared a similar expression. Hers was also laced with stress, but she flashed him a smile anyway.
“Well that’s fantastic.” Dad declared, spooning another scoop of his gnocchi into his mouth. “Who is he? Do I know him?...” He spoke between chews, “Is he that boy from your birthday last year? Y’know the one I didn’t like?”
“Um no not him, but you do know him. He’s really kind and funny… even plays golf like you do.” You chuckled at the way your dad’s eyes seemed to light up at that information. The entire time you spoke Harry kept his hand in yours and smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand. “He’s sweet and has a dog-”
“You love dogs.” Dad pointed out, to which you nodded with a smile.
“I do. He treats me really well and… well, I’m really happy with him Dad. Really happy.” 
“That’s all I want for you, pumpkin, you know that.” Dad smiled at you fondly, sipping his wine. “So who is he, then? Better not be one of my boys.” He referred to his company, hoping it wasn’t one of the idiots he had working for him. They were good on the tools but for the most part had no fucking idea how to treat a woman. His daughter especially.
“It’s Harry.” 
You just had to say it. You had built up his character in hopes to make a smooth introduction, but all that happened when you brought your intertwined fingers up onto the table was dead fucking silence. The mood disappeared instantly and a whirlwind of emotions circulated in the air. Dad didn’t say anything, Harry didn’t say anything, no one said anything. 
“Dad?” You swallowed thickly after what felt like an eternity of silence, watching his eyes flick between your face, Harry’s face then your held hands on the table.
“You’re lying. This is a joke right?” Dad laughed, suddenly standing from the table. “This is just some stupid joke for tiktak or facebook or whatever, right?”
“No… Dad, it’s not a trick. I’m not lying to you.” You stood from the table, pressing your hands to the top of it to keep you steady. His immediate reaction freaked you out and you weren’t sure where it was going to go from here.
“Y/n, he’s double your age. Are you serious!?” He snapped, jaw clenched.
“I am. I am serious.”
“And you knew about this?” His head whipped to your mum, “You knew she was dating him and let it happen?” Mum didn’t get a chance to respond before he was looking back at you, eyes showing just how hurt and angry he was about your relationship. “Y/n. My office.  Now.”
He had never spoken down at you like that before. Even as a child your dad was always gentle and corrected behavior rather than yelled to tell you off. He always heard you out, always. When you wanted to move away for school he was so damn against it because he thought it was a waste when there were good schools, even better ones closer by. But he listened to you and your reasoning. 
He hadn’t even given you an opportunity to reason with him yet. 
“No.” You shook your head, watching his eyes widen in surprise at your clear disagreement. “You have always given me the benefit of the doubt, dad. Always. Just let me talk and explain. Please.”
“This is ridiculous.” Dad spat, running his hand through his hair in utter disbelief of what was going on.
“Tim, please. I’ve listened to both of them and I think you should too.” This time it was your mum’s turn to step in. She put a gentle hand on his arm and you could visibly see the way your dad started to calm down a little bit. “She’s happy.” Her tone grew soft, as did her eyes. 
“Please, Dad.”
Your Dad looked over to you, then to Harry then back to you like you were his final destination. You flashed a pleading look, one he had never resisted before. It was like the cogs were visibly turning in his head and there was another long pause before he grabbed the half-opened bottle of wine on the table and filled his glass to the brim.
He collapsed down in his chair and chugged half the glass then placed it back down on the table. You looked over at Harry and you both excganhed a look of both concern and confusion, not really sure where this was going to go.
“Alright, y/n. I’m listening.”
You spent the next half hour explaining everything. You wanted to be as honest as possible about your relationship without exposing the entire truth because you didn’t really need him knowing that you and Harry hooked up for weeks before dating. All he needed to know was that there was attraction there but you didn’t want to start anything because of the many reasons there were. And that part was the truth.
And he genuinely listened. His initial shock and disagreement for it had faded away a little bit and he was actually able to listen and ask questions and try and understand what you two had going on. You could kind of tell that everything you said just didn’t click with him, but he wasn’t reacting that way. For the most part his grilling was towards Harry and while part of you was happy to be out of the firing line, the other was worried that Harry was in it.
“So her age isn’t some weird kink of yours?” 
“Dad!” you scolded, slowly sinking down into your chair. It was like your parents had no filter. That or they just didn’t care about boundaries or how things came across.
“It’s okay, y/n.” Harry assured you, just like he did when your mum asked her death questions. Mum seemed to go worst case scenario with everything while your dad automatically assumed everyone was out to get you. It was an only child thing. “No, Tim, it isn’t. Y/n is the youngest woman I’ve ever dated in comparison to myself, yes, but that isn’t the reason I love her. In the beginning it was actually one of the reasons I didn’t want to pursue things with her but as we became friends… I realised that we had so much in common that it was hard to ignore how I felt about her. I think I knew from the moment things changed that she was different to any other woman I’ve met. There are infinite reasons I love her and care for her.”
It was question and answer just like that, and every single time Harry was able to provide some answer that had you absolutely swooning over him. Even the most awkward just fucked questions, Harry had no reaction to them. Nothing phased him. It was like he had prepared answers for everything that might come his way. 
“Okay, I’ve heard you two so now I think you should hear me.” Dad clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.” 
You went to protest his opinion but he quickly shut you down and glared at you. “Ah.” He tutted before continuing to speak. “I don’t think this is a good idea because he’s just too old for you, pumpkin. You two can love each other and have fun and think that this is forever, but you’re not realistic and I don’t think it’ll work in the long run. For kids, for life experiences, for everything. Your age gap will always dictate everything you do and I don’t want that for you.”
Harry grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed it tight, providing comfort you so desperately needed. Every word your dad said was just hurting you more and more. If your mum could see the potential in your relationship, why couldn’t he?
“I know you two don’t need my blessing and you’ll just keep seeing each other anyway, but I can’t agree with it.” Dad shook his head and stood up suddenly, “You’re happiness is my happiness, y/n so I won’t stay in the way, but don’t expect anything more from me than the bare minimum. Understand?”
You just nodded, a little at loss for words. It wasn’t the worst outcome in the world, but it also wasn’t the best. Your dreams of everyone getting along suddenly seemed so far away. Dad looked at you like you were still his sun, moon and stars but when he looked at Harry… it was like he hated him. A solid unwavering dislike that lasted generations and all it took was him finding out Harry was a whole lot more than your neighbour.
To think less than an hour ago your Dad and Harry were laughing like they were best friends and now… they were practically strangers.
“I understand your hesitation but I want you to know that I’d never hurt your daughter. This is the most serious I have ever been in my life about anyone and I hope one day you can see that.” Harry stood up from the table as well, extending his hand across your cold, forgotten food as a gesture of good will to your Dad. 
But all Dad did was look down at Harry’s olive branch then back up at his face. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. I have work in the morning.” 
Harry’s hand fell to his side but he didn’t look deterred at all. If this situation was in reverse and this was Harry’s family… you’d be in tears. Dad bid goodnight to your mum as he usually did then rounded the table to hug you too. It was brief and distant enough to make your heart ache. Still, he whispered an ‘I love you’ before leaving the room without another look at Harry.
“Well…” Mum announced, grabbing the second bottle of wine that emerged on the table sometime during your discussion to pour herself another glass. She clearly wasn’t going to work tomorrow. Luckily her husband was her business partner. She took a happy sip and looked at both you and Harry over the rim. “I don’t know about you two but I think that went a lot better than I expected.”
You knew she was right, but it didn’t really feel that way. 
“He’ll come around.” Harry shrugged, starting to stack the dishes so he could take them to the kitchen. “In time.”
Yeah… in time. 
//
“Mr. Styles, you’ve got a visitor.” Sharon opened his office door, peaking in just enough for him to see her face.
He replied without looking up, focused on the document in front of him. “Who? I’ve got an appointment with Niall in 10.” 
“Y/n? She said you’ll make time for her.” 
Yeah fucking right he was going to make time for her. His eyes snapped to hers quickly and she could see how his irritation had disappeared into thin air. 
“Do you want me to bring her in?” She continued, pointing behind her. 
Trying to hide his excitement, he set his pen down and quickly stood up, buttoning up his suit jacket. “No. I’ll go and get her.”
She had a mischievous smile playing on her lips and flashed a knowing look to her boss, someone she managed to create a pleasant working relationship with. 
“She must be special for you to go get her yourself.” There was a slight tease in her tone as she walked alongside Harry down the hall to where you were standing in the small waiting lounge. You hadn’t been back since that day Harry took you to Pleasing. You had often met in the city for lunch but never at his office. This time you wanted to surprise him. 
“What did I tell you about speculating about my personal life?” His tone was humorous, but Sharon knew he was being serious. 
“Right. Sorry. You just never have anyone visit.”
“I’m kidding, Sharon. She’s very special. She’s the love of my life.”
A soft smile played on her lips. Harry was a serious guy basically all the time. Seeing him look so happy was a nice change. She had noticed that he seemed happier recently too and more relaxed at work than usual. “Let me know if you need anything cancelled.” 
“Thank you.” His thanks was brief, a murmur like he didn’t mean the words because there you were sitting all pretty on one of the sofas scrolling away at your phone. You had one of the tote bags Harry bought you beside you and it looked full to the brim. It was one of the bags you two had matching, as were the pair of gazelles on your feet. You saw them in an ad online and told Harry how much you liked them and he was quick to order you a pair. You didn’t show them to him so he’d buy them for you but he liked to spoil you. They were cheap and Harry quite liked the look of them as well so he decided to buy himself a pair too. 
You always got so shy when he bought you something, always grateful. When he asked you why you got like that, you explained it wasn’t the item, but the thought behind it. He noticed everything to the point you were convinced he was writing notes or had tabs on your browser history because he was always showing up with something you made a passing comment about. 
Even the very same shoes you had on your feet. He showed up to his routine night at your house wearing his and was like a giddy kid giving you the box with your own pair in it. 
“Oh my god, you got the shoes! They look so good on you.” You beamed, eyes immediately drawn to his feet. They were the third thing you noticed about him. After his pretty face, his pretty mouth and those black joggers he wore when he wanted to be super comfy. They always managed to turn you on a crazy amount. 
Harry knew that too of course.
“I got you a pair too.” He smiled widely, practically throwing his overnight bags on your bed so he could open one of them to take out the shoe box. You thought you were bad with the amount of shit you took with you on your sleepovers, but no, Harry was just as bad. Worse even. He had some comfy clothes stashed at your place but if he was staying a weekend he always brought multiple outfit options and his entire stash of toiletries. 
It was sexy. You felt like a rich housewife when you laid on your bed watching him get dressed while he asked for your opinion on everything. 
“You didn’t!” Your mouth gaped in shock, grabbing onto the shoe box to open it. You didn’t expect to find the exact same pair as Harry’s inside, but it was a pleasant surprise to find that he had gone out and bought matching shoes for you two. It was possibly the cutest thing ever. “Matching shoes?” You smiled, looking up at him from the box.
He suddenly appeared very shy, like the very idea of being one of those couples who had matching clothes and outfits was a stupid idea. A sheepish expression flashed over his face and he tucked his hands behind his back like a dog tucked their tail between their legs. “Yeah… but if you don’t like them I can return them. Or even if you don’t like the colour we can swap th-” 
You interrupted him by chucking the box on your bed and pulling his face down to yours to give him a big thank-you kiss. “I love them.” You assured him before kissing him again. He smiled into it, wrapping his arms around your body to lean back and lift you off the floor until your tippy toes skimmed the rug. “Thanks for being the best sugar daddy ever.” 
Harry’s laugh broke the kiss while he set you back down on the floor. “Does that mean I get sugar in return then? Since I bought you shoes and dinner.” He let his hands crawl down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks through your leggings with both hands.
“Fuck off.” You hit his chest, trying to act like you didn’t want to give him sugar when in reality you had been waiting to see him all day in hopes he was horny. He usually was. “I’m not an object. You can’t buy me.”
“I can’t?” He raised a brow, “I saw you look at my cock the moment I walked in, y/n. Had you in the palm of my hand just because I wore the sweatpants you like.” Harry had this cocky shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to hit him. Because he was right. All it took was a simple pair of (expensive) sweatpants and you were ready to spread your legs for him. And he brought shoes and dinner? Maybe you could be bought.
Who were you kidding, you definitely could be bought. 
“You’re annoying.” You huffed, grabbing the collar of his to pull him in for a kiss. It only lasted a second before you pulled back, rolling your eyes at the pure look of satisfaction on his face. “Just because you’re right this time doesn’t mean you’re right all the time.”
“No?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, using his hands on your ass so he could pick you up and set you down on the bed. “You want to test that theory?” 
You watched as he smoothly shoved all his belongings (and your shoes) off the bed before taking his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one go. He grabbed the back of both collars near his neck to do so and fuck. You never understood why it was so sexy when men removed their shirts like that and yet it had you sweating.
“I’m up for some experimentation...”
The sight of you standing from the sofa broke him free from the memory, which was probably best because you were wearing those jeans that made your ass look incredible and the memory associated to them was heading down a reverse cowgirl lane. He didn’t exactly want to be getting hard in the middle of his office. 
“Hi.” You beamed, quickly tucking your phone into your back pocket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. 
“Hi…” Harry beamed, immediately drawing you in for a tight hug. You smiled into it, careful not to get makeup on his expensive suit. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” He asked, pulling back while letting his hands rest on your hips. 
“I skipped.” You shrugged, “It was just a lecture anyway and I wanted to finish work off at home. I wanted to surprise you too.” You smiled softly, resting your hands on his chest. 
“I’m so happy you’re here, baby. Truly.” he squeezed your hips, biting down on his bottom lip as his expression turned almost painful. “But Niall will be here in five minutes... I can cancel, though. I will cancel.” 
“About that…” you looked away for a moment, making brief eye contact with a random girl at her desk who seemed far more interested in you and Harry than her work. “I’m Niall.”
“Since when?” He shot back, laughing softly. “No. Seriously. Since when?”
“Stop.” You protested, poking his chest at his teasing. “I wanted to make sure we had time and… well it was kind of fun, actually.” You admitted, watching his eyes twinkle at your admission, “I even called pretending to be his assistant.”
Harry laughed loudly, head tilting back in that gorgeous wide smile that you adored of his. His happiness seemed to capture the attention of anyone nearby and you suddenly felt quite overwhelmed with all the eyes on you two. You didn’t particularly dress up to see him and compared to everyone else in their business attire, you looked extremely casual and young. 
“You could’ve just texted me, baby. I would’ve made time for you.” 
He was so free with his affection for you. So willing to show you off. He wasn’t hiding that you two were a couple or even toning anything down. It made you feel so special. So important. 
It felt so free knowing that your parents knew about him. Even if Dad was pretty against it, mum was happy for you. She was happy that you finally found someone who you deemed worthy to date you and who made you happy and one was better than none. 
You were just so scared to tell them about the trip. Knowing that your mum was willing to accept your relationship made the whole world of difference but your anxiety was at an all time high. Now that everything was in the open, it felt like you two could move on to the next stage of your relationship as well as the next steps Harry had to take with his family situation. While it was his family and a problem that existed before you two even met, you were going to be there on the trip for him in whatever capacity he needed. 
You didn’t want to get involved because families could be so messy and it truly wasn’t your place, but you wanted to support him. You were going to support him.
“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” You replied in a ‘duh’ tone before widening your tote bag to show him its contents. “See. I brought sushi for lunch.”
After everything he’s been doing for you to get ready for your trip, you felt like it was a nice gesture to bring him lunch as a bit of a thank you. It wasn’t the end of your gratitude and not the first thank you, but it was a start. Harry was even going as far as offering his credit card to you for any pre-trip shopping as well as a designated shopping day to buy you anything you may need. He knew you well enough to know you were already looking for new dresses and swimsuits and options on options for clothing and wanted to cover all of it. He bought you things he thought you’d like (or selfishly just because he wanted to see you in them) and had already sat through a clothing haul and it had barely been a week since he booked your flight. 
He just loved to spend his money on you. It was almost a turn-on for him to see you enjoy the fruits of his labour. A dress he thought you’d look pretty in or a pair of shoes you had your eye on. He liked to keep your belly full and your heart happy and wanted nothing more than for you to be taken care of in any way. It wasn’t to diminish your hard work or make you feel like you couldn’t afford the things you wanted, just because he fucking loved you more than anything. 
You felt a little bad that he was covering the trip, especially since your flight was booked much later than it should’ve been and ended up being quite pricey (not that he let you know the exact price anyway) but you could also tell that Harry was happy to pay for it. He showed genuine pleasure and excitement for it and there wasn’t a hint of him that felt apprehension or like you somehow owed him for the trip. He was happy that you were joining him, no matter the cost.
You used that happiness of his to try and not feel as guilty for the trip. When you told your friends about it they thought you were crazy for ever feeling guilty in the first place. Before you two even started sleeping together, you’d fantasise about having a rich man buy you nice things and take you wherever you wanted and now that it was actually happening, you felt anxious about it.
But you wanted to enjoy it and you obviously would when you were in the Italian sun with a spritz in one hand and an ice cream in the other… you just needed to give back a little. You had your eye on a nice shirt for him and already started researching restaurants to go to in Italy that you could treat him to. You promised yourself you’d take him to one fancy, romantic dinner and what better place than the home to pizza and gelato?
Harry’s eyes beamed literal hearts as he squeezed your hips and leaned in to kiss you. It was a little unexpected since Harry was very particular about his job and you two were in the middle of his office, but it was a good unexpected. It was gentle, innocent, a loving peck before he pulled back and smiled down at you.
“I love you so much.” 
“I love you too.” You blushed, not really used to the amount of PDA you two were doing right now. 
“Come on.” He nudged, smirking at your shy reaction. “We’ll go eat in my office.” 
He let you walk slightly ahead of him but kept his hand on your lower back to guide you to the right place. Last time you were here you didn’t get inside his office so you had no idea where you were going.  
“Can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.” He murmured, shutting the door behind you two and then immediately grabbing your face to kiss you properly. A peck simply wasn’t enough. After the full-on week you two had, he had missed this. Missed you. He hated when things were complicated and spending time with you like a normal couple was his favourite thing in the world. 
“I missed you too.” You giggled, clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket while kissing him multiple times. He smiled into the kiss and kissed a few kisses down your jaw to your neck. A pretty little pant whimpered into his ear and that’s when he had to stop himself before he got too ahead of himself. 
“Come on, baby. Sit next to me.” He smiled, grabbing your bag from you and setting it down on his desk. “How’s your day been?” 
“Boring.” You groaned, watching him beeline to one of the arm chairs in front of his desk so he could drag it beside his wheely chair, “I finished one of my smaller assignments last night and today I worked on one of my final ones. It’s literally due next week and worth like 40% of my grade and I feel like I’ll never get it done in time. I’ve barely studied for my exams either and I just feel so shit. I’m over it.” You whined out the complaint, feeling like your head was going to explode.
You had so many things on your mind at once, it was hard to keept track of it all. There was so much left to do for your trip but you barely had any time for it all and you still needed to deep clean your apartment before you left. Most of your clothes were there, but you had so much at your parents’ too that you needed to go through and they didn’t even know about the trip yet. You felt like you were going to be in such a rush towards the end.
Luckily Harry had taken care of practically all the travel essentials, so all you needed to worry about was packing. It still felt like a mammoth of a task when you were swamped with everything else going on in your life. 
“I know it’s hard, baby but you’re doing so well,” Harry praised, pulling his nice chair out for you to sit down. “You’ve been working so hard and you’re so close,” he let you sit down before pushing the chair in for you before sitting down beside you, “You just have to stick it out a bit more. It’s only two weeks.” 
“I know.” You sighed, helping him to unpack the food you bought from your tote bag. “Everything’s happening so fast, I just feel so unprepared.”
“Well you’ve got me to help, okay? So just focus on your studies and I’ll help you with everything else. We’ve got time and all the important things are taken care of. I’ll help you clean your place and pack and whatever else you need. Don’t stress.” He assured you, giving you a comforting squeeze on your knee.
“Thank you,” You smiled, squeezing his chin to bring him in for a quick peck before you looked at the array of trays and small bites you grabbed to share with him. It was what you usually did when you went out to eat so you two could try a little bit of everything. “My mum called too…”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah… she was talking about you again. It’s all she talks about and she’s always asking if I’ve seen you recently. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s jealous I see you more than her.” You laughed.
“I keep bumping into her on my morning runs more than usual. I have a feeling its on purpose.” Harry laughed in return.
“Yeah that sounds like her…” 
“And your dad?” He nudged your shoulder, “I haven’t seen him since we had dinner. Is he coming around to the idea of us yet?”
“He is. Sort of. I don’t know, Harry, he seems a bit distant towards me. We usually call every couple of days and he’s still doing it but it… feels different. I haven’t even told them about the trip and I don’t want to put it off but I feel like he’ll be really upset.” 
“You haven’t told them yet?” Harry blinked, “Y/n we spoke about this. You were meant to tell them over the weekend.” He sighed, almost like he was disappointed in you. You both agreed that you had to tell them sooner rather than later. You wanted to give your dad a few days to process your relationship before telling him because you couldn’t really leave it any longer than that. 
It was just shit timing. The trip was coming so fast and your parents found out about you two so close to when you were leaving. Way too close. 
“I know. I know.” You replied, groaning a little. “It’s just shit timing.”
“I know, y/n, and they might be upset about it but we leave in two weeks. You need to tell them.” He stressed. You hated when he spoke to you like that. It wasn’t rude or condescending in any way but you could tell he was a little annoyed about it. He had every right to be because this was something you had to do and you didn’t want to fight about it or start anything unnecessarily when you were in the wrong. 
You also just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.  
“I hate when you’re right. It’s annoying.” You sighed, trying to lighten the mood by laughing softly. Harry knew this was a conversation that didn’t end here, but he could sense your reluctance in it all. He was happy to entertain a small break from it, but it seriously was something that had to be dealt with. 
“Well I get it from my mum so if I’m annoying so is she.” Harry smirked, expertly picking up a piece of sashimi with his chopsticks before popping it into his mouth. 
“No, never! Anne is like a ray of sunshine. She can be right whenever she wants” 
“And I can’t ?” He laughed, “that seems unfair.”
Harry wasn’t sure why the sound of his mother’s name on your lips made his heart beat so goddamn fast, but he nearly dropped the sushi from his mouth at how casual and normal it was. He loved it. Adored it. He hoped that you two meeting in person would be as successful as it was via Zoom. 
Harry also hoped that her concerns for your relationship would disappear once you two were face to face. You’d have ample opportunity to spend time together on your trip and he hoped that it would solidify what you two had. The future you two had. 
Anne’s concerns were valid and Harry knew that it was something that would come up time and time again with everyone that met you. 
“She’s just so… young. She’s a gorgeous girl and so sweet, I can see why you like her but are you being realistic? I just don’t want you getting hurt, H,” Anne sighed through the phone, “Young women want to be free and I just don’t want you two to get a year, two years in and you’re ready to slow down while she’s just getting started. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.” 
“I love her, Mum and if anything her age has been better for me. I feel like I'm enjoying my life in a way that’s completely different from when I was single. I’m learning so many things and so is she. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but it’s working.” 
“Well, as long as you’re sure…”
“I am.” 
“I saw she’s wearing my necklace too,” She continued after a beat of silence, “She must mean a lot to you.”
“She does, mum. She means everything to me. I can’t explain it but I just know she’s my forever.”
“Well it’s nice to see you so happy. It’s been a long time since you’ve smiled so much. I missed it.”
“I missed it too.”
“You’re just saying it’s unfair because I’m on her side and not yours.” You grinned, breaking him free from his daze. 
“If this is going to be another Archie situation where my mother loves you more than me…” he waved his chopsticks towards you, making you giggle. 
“Oh it absolutely will be. I’ve been texting her y’know. We follow each other on Instagram now.” 
“You’re kidding.” He gawked, all wide eyed. 
“Nope. When she found out I was coming to England she was so excited.” 
“Yeah I’m sure. You’re her favourite and she’s only known you for a week.” Harry sighed dramatically, eliciting a little shove of his arm. He grinned and squished your face to draw you in for a kiss, loving the way he could taste and feel every emotion you two were feeling in that moment. Words could lie but a kiss never could. 
“I’m serious though, y/n...” He murmured against your lips before pulling away while keeping his hand on your jaw. His thumb brushed against your cheek, caressing your soft skin. “You need to tell them tonight.”
“I’m scared.” You whispered. “I’m going either way, obviously, but I’m so worried they’ll be really upset with me. You know I hate upsetting them.” 
“I know baby, I get it.” Harry dropped his hand from your cheek and relaxed back to his chair. “The timing is shit and I know if this trip was in a couple of months it would be easier for them to handle, but this is your life, y/n. We’ve done nothing wrong by going on a trip and I’m sure if they can accept our relationship, they can deal with a holiday. You’re an adult and so am I.”
“Maybe you’re right...”  
“Baby all we did was fall in love.” He sensed your apprehension and wanted to try and convince you otherwise. He tipped your chin towards him so you were looking at him before grabbing both of your hands in his. “Your dad might not be happy with us dating or going overseas or any of it but I can make him understand. I know deep down that all he wants is for you to be happy and… I can prove that to him. You’re important to me, y/n. The most important person in my life.” He reached out to fiddle with the little pearls around your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling all kinds of nervous at his words. “If I were a father, all I’d want for my little girl is to know she was being loved and cared for. That she’s happy. No matter who she’s dating.” 
Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, putting himself in the role of a father. He could’ve phrased it in a different way, in any other way and yet it felt so right to imagine himself like that. Barely three months into being in a relationship with you and he somehow felt different about everything. 
It scared the hell out of him. 
“I am happy. I am.” Your eyes softened, glossing over ever so slightly. You squeezed his hand in both of yours,. “And I know you’re right. I just want us to skip to the good part where we’re together with our families, y’know. I loved meeting your mum and even just having dinner with you and my parents was amazing… before I opened my mouth.” You laughed softly but it was over before it even started because you just found yourself overcome with so much emotion. Through everything, Harry never failed to know what to say or how to make you feel better. It sometimes felt like he had a read on you before you even knew what you were feeling. “I just want us to be happy.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face, “I love you so much Harry. I’ve never felt like this, ever. You’re my person. I want everyone to know that.”
You’re my person. 
You’re. My. Person. 
Harry repeated the phrase in his mind over and over, nearly bursting at the seams with how much love he felt towards you. You were his person too. Through and through. From the moment he met you he just knew there was something different about you which is why he was always drawn to you. And now he had the words for it. 
You were his person. 
Harry cupped your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that expressed every single emotion he felt for you. He could taste the sushi and soy sauce on your lips but he couldn’t care less. He was happy and the boring day he was having suddenly turned into the best day. 
“You’re my person too.” He breathed, panting slightly from how long the kiss had gone. “Have been from the moment I met you. I just didn’t know it.” 
You didn’t know what to do with yourself. There was something about Harry being romantic and professing his affection that got you so unbelievably riled up, you couldn’t contain it. You couldn’t switch it off and while you could pretend it wasn’t happening or ignore the fact you already had a heartbeat between your legs, you didn’t want to.
Things were left so unfinished the other night and you always did wonder what it would be like to be bent over Harry’s desk…
“Harry I mean this so seriously, if you keep talking like that….” You breathed, watching the way his heart-eyes heated up and turned into something dark and smoldering. 
“What?” He grinned, cocking his head. “If I keep talking like that ‘what’?”
He was teasing you, trying to coax you into admitting what he already knew you wanted. 
“I won’t be able to stop myself…”
“Then don’t” Harry smirked, letting one hand slide down to loop around your neck so he could pull you in to kiss him again. You whimpered softly into his mouth, cupping his jaw while practically melting into his touch. Your other hand fell to his thigh, squeezing it in your palm while your mouths molded together in a kiss so intense your body was floating.
Were you really going to have sex right here? 
Yeah. Fuck it.
 “Baby.” He groaned against your mouth, forcing himself to pull away from you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly and all he wanted to do was get a handful of your breasts. To tug at your pebbled nipples that he could see so fucking clearly due to the soft cups of the bra you were wearing. At this point he knew exactIy what your tits looked like in all different types of bras. 
Stifling back a moan, he slid his hand back up to cup your cheek while running his thumb over your mouth. Your lips were swollen, all pink and pretty and so delicious it was almost painful to not dive back in and kiss you. “We need to stop if you don’t want things to go further.” 
“Who says I don’t want things to go further?” you breathed, grabbing onto his spare hand to bring it up to your chest. Your hand pressed over his until he squeezed a good handful of your breast, running his finger over your hard nipple. Shit. “Please.” 
“Go lock the door.” He murmured, standing up quickly out of his chair while shrugging off his suit jacket. 
You beelined to the door, thankful for the big oak doors Harry’s position afforded him. It didn’t mean you had total privacy. Walls were thin and he had huge glass windows on one side of the office. Anyone could see you two and someone could most definitely hear you.
Which is why you had to be quiet and quick. 
Harry met you halfway, crossing the floor in three quick strides to grab your face and kiss you again. Everything was happening so quickly. You were unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dress shirt out of his pants while he guided you backwards towards the small couch he had against one wall. Harry would’ve liked to bend you over his desk, but it was covered in your uneaten sushi and he had a feeling both of you would be starving after your quick fuck.
He almost couldn’t believe it was happening until he remembered all the moments you two practiced exhibitionism before. In his pool, his car and on the boat during your weekend away. He had no doubt it would happen again, most likely at Pleasing where you two could really explore all the things you wanted to. 
Harry sat back on the couch, keeping your mouths connected while he undid your jeans button and zipper. It was such an effort wearing jeans and you suddenly regretted wearing pants at all. You quickly made a mental note to wear something easier to remove if you were ever visiting Harry for ‘lunch’ again.
“Why did I have to wear jeans?” You groaned, helping him shove them down your legs to quicken the process before you stepped out of them. 
“Don’t wear pants next time.” He breathed, grabbing the back of your thighs to guide you down to straddle him. 
“I won’t.” You agreed desperately, threading your fingers through his hair while kissing him to try and keep yourself quiet. You could feel the hard length of his cock the moment you straddled him, all long and thick. You could hardly wait to get him inside you, not when he had said such romantic things and looked so fucking hot in his suit.
There was something so sexy about his workwear and now that you were straddling him in nothing but your sneakers, underwear and t shirt and he was still practically fully dressed… it had never been hotter. 
“You’re so hard.” You murmured, tilting your head back to gasp as he grinded your pussy against his cock. 
His fingers were dug so hard into your ass you knew you’d be feeling the touch for days. He’d probably come over straight from work and fuck you again, making it known how hot he finds the fresh bruises on your pretty skin. Then he’d take nice care of you and massage your skin, rub cream into the marks and kiss you everywhere until you were reduced to a sleepy mess. 
“And you’re so wet. Did telling you I love you really turn you on this much?” Harry smirked, nipping at your neck. He tucked his work pants down to his thighs when he sat down on the couch so you wouldn’t make a mess of them and he was glad he did so. You were soaked. A sticky mess that had fully soaked through both your underwear and his until his cock felt warm with your arousal. 
“I like to be romanced.” You smiled, nipping at his bottom lip. “Being sentimental gets me wet, what can I say?”
“Yeah? Maybe I need to do it more often then.” He murmured, pushing your t shirt up until it bunched over your tits. He cupped one of them, keeping firm eye contact with you while running his thumb over your nipple until he pushed the thin lace material of your bra down to expose it. “Tell you how my heart skips a beat when I see you. How fairies are born when you laugh?”
He was only teasing, but there was nothing teasing about the way he wrapped his mouth around your nipple and sucked, tugging at it between his teeth until you were holding back a loud moan. That was torture. “You’re ridiculous.” 
“Am I? You’re saying that you don’t feel your pretty cunt flutter when I tell you how my life would be incomplete without you?” He cocked his head, watching the way your eyes glazed over as he continued grinding you over his dick. You could already feel that tingle in your belly and it had barely been two minutes of grinding on him. “Or would you prefer I tell you how badly I need to pump you full of my cum? How you’re a needy little slut for begging me to fuck you right here when anyone could walk in on us?”
And he felt it. He felt the way you clenched against him. How the heartbeat between your legs increased at the first few words of degradation.
“That I love you more for it…” He had this shit eating grin on his face and was happy to nip at your nipple and grind your clit against him until you were a poor tense little thing on top of him. “That did it, didn’t it, baby?”
“I need your cock. Please.” You whispered, dragging his head from your breast upwards so you could kiss him again. He smirked into your mouth and lifted your hips off him, making you rest on your knees instead of his lap so he could untuck his cock from his briefs. 
The moment his cock was free he dragged you back down and dipped his fingers between your bodies to nudge your underwear to the side so he had free access to you. “Y’want my fingers?” He offered, knowing it would sting to take him with no prep. Harry knew you liked that, but he also couldn’t assume it’s what you wanted.
The haste shake of your head was all he needed to guide his cock to your entrance, making sure to muffle your quiet whimper by his own mouth while letting you take lead and drop down at your own pace. You had no issues being quiet by yourself. You could make yourself cum dozens of times and barely moan so no one would hear and yet the second you were with Harry all you wanted to do was make noise.
Maybe it was because he always encouraged it. That he loved the way you moaned his name and screamed for him. Or maybe it was because no vibrator or dildo could compare to the feeling of his hard cock splitting you open. The way his veins felt going inside you and how it was attached to the hottest man on the planet.
Your vibrator didn’t wrap its arms around you and your dildo certainly didn’t kiss you filthily and grab your ass to encourage you to take it. They didn’t grab your hips and bounce you or wrap their mouths around your nipples to deliver that bite of pain Harry knew would get you off quicker. 
Because this was a quickie and the moment you had his entire cock deep inside you Harry was pulling out all the tricks to get you to finish quicker. He had no issues orgasming fast, nor did he have issues holding himself back to make it last longer. But you… he needed you to finish first when he was inside you and that wouldn’t change just because you two were having a quickie.
“Shit. Shit, Harry.” You gasped, rocking your hips back and forth to grind his cock against your g-spot. With every back and forth movement, your clit rubbed against the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock, the material of his boxers adding extra friction that hit you so much harder than usual. 
“I know. I know. Being so good for me. Y’ride me so fucking well, baby.” He whispered, fisting the hair at the back of your head to kiss you again. 
It was all gasps and slapping skin and sloppy kisses that were way too loud. If anyone came close to the door they’d know exactly what you were doing but neither of you seemed to care. You were both just trying to reach your highs while keeping your moans to a minimum. 
What never stopped though was his filthy fucking dirty talk. Right in your ear when he kissed your neck and rumbled into your mouth when your lips brushed together while you two tried to catch your breaths. It was why you finished so fast. Why your first orgasm tumbled over you barely two minutes into riding him, then a second under two minutes after. Everything about the situation was so hot and you were so beyond turned on it felt easy for your body to respond to every touch and every word. Every utter of I love you.
You severely underestimated the ability for those three little words to cause so much love and so much arousal all at once. 
“You’re unbelievable.” Harry breathed out a laugh while tucking himself back into his boxers, watching you hastily pull your jeans back on.
“Me? You’re the one telling me fairies are born when I laugh. In the middle of sex too.” You laughed, running your fingers through your hair. 
“I wasn’t exactly lying.” He flirted, grabbing your chin with a cheesy smile before he kissed you. “I love you.”
“I love you.” You repeated earnestly. 
“Did that make you wet?” He asked, already expecting the roll of your eyes. 
“You’re an idiot. Now sit back down, I’m going to go pee and clean up quickly.” You poked his chest and went to grab your phone then walked to the door.
“Yes, ma’am.” He mock saluted, returning in his chair by the time you unlocked the office door. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
“Yeah. We passed it on the way to your office. Now don’t eat everything.”
“You better hurry up then.” He teased, shoving a piece of a california roll into his mouth. You rolled your eyes again and left his office, shutting the door behind you on your way out. 
Harry’s office was the last door at the end of a hallway. There were a few closed offices on the way, then the bathrooms were closest to the waiting area. It was a short walk, barely 20m between you and your destination which was a blessing considering the cold cum slowly soaking into your undewear. A quick wipe with a tissue wasn’t enough with the amount of cum he filled you with. Which was why it never occurred to you that you’d run into anyone you knew. 
You knew there was a possibility, given Harry worked with his friends and… Ethan, but it just didn’t cross your mind because they all worked in different areas and you were a little preoccupied with the mess between your legs. Their jobs overlapped but the only reason they spent so much time together was because they were friends. Otherwise the overlaps could be handled by a third party. 
Wednesday’s were Harry’s meeting heavy days and often the day he chose to work at home. They were usually via zoom anyway which is why you chose today to come visit him. He’d be busy with meetings and you booked a slot. You knew he was avoiding any work with Ethan and when it couldn’t be avoided, Harry would get someone else to deal with it. 
As bad as it sounded… you were just trying to forget about it all. Or at the very least deal with what happened without dwelling on it. You had shut it out of your mind, ignoring the big part of you that wanted him to pay for what he did. You knew it was a bad coping mechanism but it was better than dwelling on the fact that you couldn’t get him on any charges. With the way he did everything there was no paper trail or evidence so you couldn’t exactly do anything without it being a he-say, she-say situation. 
You trusted that Harry was still devising a way to get him out of your lives for good, but for now you were just focusing on working on your relationship supporting him when he had a particularly rough Ethan day. It wasn’t a long term solution by any means, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. You had the pictures and he was leaving you alone, that was good enough. 
So when you were distracted replying to a message on your phone and a body was distracted by a folder in their hand, you didn’t see them until your shoulders bumped. 
“Oh my god, I’m so so-” The words got caught in your throat, eyes widening at the sight of Ethan in front of you.
“No worries babe, should’ve looked where I was-” he replied on autopilot until he actually looked at you and an arrogant pig-like expression morphed onto his face. “Well if it isn’t little y/n. What brings you here?”
In a split second time seemed to freeze. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t hear. Suddenly the world around you was blurring into fuzzy shapes and black dots. All you could think about was the intimate photos he had of you for weeks. How he had a list of people with copies, most who probably saw them and how he probably got off to them and got off on the fact that Harry was reduced to nothing and had to pay thousands of dollars just to protect you. To get you back. 
You weren’t even sure Ethan knew that you and Harry were together, but you knew damn well he revelled in the fact you two had to break up. That he ruined your relationship. 
But you couldn’t say any of that even if you wanted to because the world was starting to close around you and you felt this pressure on your chest that became suffocating. It was like air ceased to exist and you feared that if you didn’t get away from him you’d die on the ground right at his feet. 
You said nothing and ran past him, ignoring his confused ‘what the fuck?’ that you somehow felt rattling in every corner of your brain. Stumbling, you shoved your way into the women’s bathroom and headed straight to a stall so you could sit down. 
You barely made it, collapsing onto the closed toilet seat so you wouldn’t pass out. Your whole body was trembling and it was like you were burning from the inside while simultaneously freezing all over. You had never experienced anything like it and even though you were trying to control your breathing, trying so fucking hard, nothing was working. 
With every breath the air became thinner, every tremble you sweat harder. All you could think about was your naked body being in the hands of a stranger, someone who had no permission or right and willingly paid to view you in your most vulnerable state. You couldn’t get it out of your head or your heart or your body. 
You were panicking. 
And then you felt it, a brief moment of fresh air and crystal clear vision before your lungs closed again. There was a commotion outside the bathroom, two muffled voices that made no sense to you. Then a second later the door was slamming open and you recognised the voice of your lover in his own panic. 
“Y/n? Baby where are you?” 
You tried to open your mouth and yell out to him but all that came out was a muffled gasp. It didn’t matter whether you yelled to him or not though because he was slamming each stall door open until he found you and when he did he fell to his knees in front of you, right on the dirty bathroom floor. But he didn’t care, not one fucking bit when you were sitting on the toilet looking like you were about to die. 
“Oh god, baby. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?” He soothed, cupping your face to try and get your eyes to focus on him. 
He knew exactly what was happening. He didn’t know why or how exactly but he figured it had something to do with the bastard he passed on the way to find you. Right now though, none of that mattered. Not when you were having a full blown panic attack right in front of him for the first time in your life. You must’ve been so scared and being scared and panicked was only going to make it worse. He knew that. 
“Sharon, I need water.” He called over his shoulder. “And a towel please and you need to make sure no one comes in here, okay?” 
You heard her muffled reply before he was looking right at you again. “Look at me, y/n. Come on.” He encouraged, running his thumbs over your cheeks. You finally looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Good girl. That’s it. It’s okay. It’s okay, y/n. You’re safe and nothings going to happen to you, okay? I’m right here.” Shit. “I’m right here.”
“It’s… I can’t-I can’t breathe.” You whimpered, clawing at your own chest to articulate how horrible you were feeling. 
“I know. I know but it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice was so calm, so steady. You appreciated that. He gently took your hands in his so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and cradled them so his chest. Using one to keep them there, he used the other to grab the back of your neck gently to pull you forward so your foreheads were pressed together. “Just breathe with me, okay? Try and match my breathing.”
“I can’t. I can’t.” You protested, closing your eyes while a pitiful whimper slipped in the small space separating your mouths. You panted desperately, breathing through your small cries while hugging onto his body in hopes that his warmth and calm presence would help you. 
“I know it’s hard, but you can do it. Just try, baby. You can do it.” He was trying to encourage you and stay calm. The last thing you needed was feeling any stress or panic from him because that would just make the entire situation worse. But god it was so fucking hard. Feeling your body tremble and watching your pretty face in so much pain was horrible. But he had to stay strong and he just wanted to get you better so he could take you home. It was his only concern. 
“Deep breath in, y/n. In… out…” 
Harry closed his eyes for a single moment, collecting himself before opening them again to watch you while he guided your breathing again. He kept his tone soft and even, guiding you through it until you seemed to be breathing easier. Your trembling started to cease and you were no longer a stiff board in his arms. You were able to relax into his touch, slumping against him with your forehead on his shirt. 
“That’s it. You did so well, baby. Love you so much.” He soothed, letting his lips brush against your head while he ran his hands over your back.
You didn’t respond, but he took how pliant you were becoming in his arms as a good sign. The bathroom door swung open a moment later and Sharon was rushing in with a plastic cup of water and a damp hand towel. She passed them to Harry and wordlessly left once Harry thanked her to guard the door to give you two some privacy. 
“Here…” Harry nudged your chin, “Can you drink this?” He held your chin in a gentle grip, feeling like his heart was going to shatter just at the sight of your teary eyes and puffy cheeks. You grabbed the cup from him and started to take shaky sips from it, closing your eyes when he grabbed the damp towel to dab your face. 
The two of you remained like that for a while. You weren’t exactly sure how long. Harry just kept rubbing your back and using the cool temperature of the towel to try and calm your splotchy skin. You didn’t say anything and neither did Harry, but even if you wanted to, you had nothing to say. Your mind was blank and if anything… all you wanted to do was go home.
You had never felt so emotionally drained and numb all at the same time. It was like all your compartmentalisation and bad coping skills had suddenly given way and let everything in all at once. There was so much going on in your brain that it all cancelled each other out until you felt absolutely nothing but pure exhaustion and… anger. You were tired and angry and numb and everything was so fucking confusing you didn’t know what was what, just that you were over it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked softly, speaking the first words for what felt like an hour. You weren’t sure why it jarred you so much to hear him ask that but you took that as a sign that you needed to go home. You didn’t want to be in this office any longer than you had to be and as bad as it was… you didn’t want to be near Harry either. 
You went from needing him and feeling like his presence and his calm was the only way you could breathe to feeling suffocated just by being near him. You didn’t understand it when it wasn’t his fault but somehow felt like he was the one to blame. It was unfair.
It was also unfair to have photos taken of you in your most vulnerable state then be threatened with them. It was unfair to have your boyfriend work with the man who did that to you and suffer no consequences for his actions. Even if Harry did have a plan, you just didn’t fucking understand how he could stand being in the same building as him. 
The last thing you wanted was saying something you’d regret because your mind wasn’t clear so it felt like the right decision to go home by yourself, even if you already knew Harry would want to drive you and make sure you got home alright. 
“No… um, no I don’t think so.” You shook your head and pressed your hand to the wall of the stall to help you stand up. Your legs were cramped and shaky from being sat down for so long and the rest of you felt like you had a 50kg weight tied to every muscle in your body.  
Harry’s brows furrowed, and he quickly stood up as well. There was a switch in your demeanor that he didn’t like. A distant, almost… cold shift that he had only seen in the very beginning of your relationship when he fucked everything up. But he hadn’t done anything so to see you become so withdrawn sent alarm bells ringing everywhere. 
“That’s okay, you don’t… you don’t have to.” Harry exhaled a deep breath and squeezed the towel in his hand, “I know it’s hard but it is good to talk about it. I’m here when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” You smiled softly, crushing the plastic cup in your hand. The sound echoed around the bathroom and it felt entirely too loud for how intense the situation was. 
Harry attempted to reach out and give you a comforting squeeze on your arm but was only met with rejection when you shifted your shoulder back to avoid it. You could see the flash of hurt cross his eyes and the way his brows knitted even closer together, but he didn’t dare comment on it. Harry knew how sensitive someone could be after a panic attack so he tried to not take it personally and viewed it as a mistake on his behalf.
But you let him hold you for what felt like forever. You just collapsed in his arms until you could breathe again… still, he had gone through panic attacks and he knew that everyone reacted differently. You could come out of it in the worst mental state and the last thing he wanted was giving you too much space and something happening because of it. 
“I’m just going to wash my hands.” The moment you slid past him and out of the stall, you immediately felt a sense of relief from not being so confined anymore. You scratched at your chest a little while watching him join you at the basin beside you to wash his hands as well.
“I’ll drive you home, y/n. I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Harry spoke softly, looking directly at you while scrubbing his hands with the soap. 
“I actually think it’s better if I am… alone.” You cleared your throat and walked to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands. Your back was towards him but you could feel his stare on your back. “I parked at the station so the train will be fine. I think I just need some time alone, if that’s okay?”
“Are you sure? You’ve never had a panic attack before, y/n. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you all by yourself. At least let me drive you.” Harry offered, trying to be encouraging without too pushy. But it was really fucking hard because every moment you withdrew from him was another moment he felt himself start to panic at what was going on with you. He had no idea what was running through your head and there was no way for him to find out unless you told him yourself.
“I’m fine, Harry. Really.” You sighed, turning around to face him. He looked so… sad. Helpless almost. “I just need to walk it off, okay?” 
With a firm nod, Harry reluctantly backed down. It was the last thing on the entire planet that he wanted but what choice did he have?
“Okay. Just…” he inhaled a ragged breath and stepped towards you. Harry wanted to touch you so badly, even just a pinky looped to yours but he stopped himself just before his fingers grazed the back of your hand. “Let me walk you out at least. Please.”
Even though your chest was still clammy, your lungs didn’t feel like they were at full capacity yet and you just didn’t want him to walk you anywhere, you still agreed. He had done so much for you, more than you felt like you deserved. The least you could do was let him walk you out the building. 
The walk to get your things and go downstairs was painfully awkward. Thankfully Sharon had warded off the bathroom and hallway so there was no one lingering around, including Ethan but that did very little to dispel how uncomfortable you were. It hadn’t felt like this for months and there wasn’t a single moment since you two started dating where you didn’t want to be around him.
It was a sick feeling, one that just mixed in with your need to go home and die in your bed. Unfortunately, you knew that once you had a shower and cried some more, you’d be pushing it all away again to focus on your assignment. It was cruel. 
“Text me when you get home?” Harry asked, voice full of hope. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you adjusted your tote bag on your shoulder. The street was full and busy of the usual lunch rush, all the corporate men and women off to buy an overpriced sandwich or go to their favourite hole-in-a-wall restaurant for takeaway. 
You two could’ve been going to your favourite japanese cafe for a coffee right now to walk off your food comas, but instead your nice romantic lunch had turned into something ugly. It felt like it was all your fault and yet somehow your brain was blaming Harry. 
Again, even if you didn’t want to agree, you did. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, cool. Thank you?” Harry wasn’t sure what to do or say. He was at a loss.
There was nothing about this situation that felt normal or even was normal. He didn’t feel like he could kiss you or even hug you goodbye. It felt like the end of an awkward first date where the polite thing to do was hug goodbye even if neither party wanted to. But Harry did want to. He wanted to follow you right now to make sure you got home okay. That you were okay. 
“Bye Harry.” You opted to make the painful goodbye, feeling sick to your stomach at the entire day. You felt dirty and sticky and the complete normalcy of everyone around you just going about their day was kiling you a little bit inside. 
“Right… um, okay. Goodbye, y/n. Thank you for lunch.” 
It was formal and ugly and all you could do in response was mutter another goodbye and flash him the saddest most pitiful smile you could muster before turning around to walk in the direction of the closest train station. 
And just like that, Harry watched you walk away. 
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sttoru · 1 year
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!!! geto hate fuck turning into something really damn passionate! reader repeatedly moaning apologies until geto had given us a bath of his warm cum <3
ONE MORE, ONCE MORE.
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⟣ note. listen this turned out way toooo detailed than what i had expected it to be HLPP i got lost in the story irlly just wanted to make this a 100 word drabble oopsies
⟣ tags. mean dom / ex!geto suguru x female reader. smut. hate fucking, mention of slapping, creampie, dirty talk; degradation, name calling; ‘slut’, spriiinkle of overstimulation, slight size difference, uhh dumbification once i think.
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all you did was throw non-stop insults at him — about his attitude, abilities, skills. . . maybe his choice of clothing too. well, that last one was purely added due to your own pettiness.
the heated argument had started when you came over to your ex-boyfriend’s house to pick up the last few items you had left there before the break up. the reason of why you two decided to go off against one another was long forgotten.
that was solely due to the underlying tension between you two. there was something about seeing suguru in such a furious mood that was extremely attractive — he secretly had the exact same thoughts about you too.
the sexual tension seemed to peak once suguru had stopped your hand from coming in touch with his face. it was intended to be a slap to the face out of frustration, however nothing came out of it.
. . maybe except for the fact that you were the one getting slapped now—though in a more sexual way;
“sorry? yeah, hah, too fuckin’ late.” suguru spits whilst keeping your wrists pinned above your head, hips ramming against yours, throbbing cock now balls deep inside you, “should’ve taught twice before catching an attitude with me, sweetheart.”
oh, he was livid. that ‘sweetheart’ didn’t hold its usual sweetness. it was filled with spite, though just a crumble of longing laid underneath. as if he missed you — as if he still yearned for you.
“‘m sorry, sorr—sorry, suguru !” you mewl. that’s all you could manage to do under the grasp of that man as he had you pinned to the couch in the living room, your face a crying mess from both the argument and the turn of events.
one thing about suguru that you did certainly miss was the way he could pleasure you. he did it so well, so precisely—no other man you had been with could ever compare. it’d be a lie to say that you weren’t glad your little visit turned out like this;
“ah, fuck—missed seeing your pretty face like this,” suguru whispers under his breath, lips grazing against yours for a single second. it was enough to leave you stunned and even more embarrassed. exactly what he was trying to accomplish, “missed seeing you cry, drool and beg for my cock. missed seeing you being a little slut for me.”
your nails were digging onto suguru’s triceps, teary eyes looking at him like you were begging him to help you reach your climax — for him not to stop once you were so close to that point of no return. you knew your ex had a thing for edging you, though that’s the last thing you want right now.
not when this felt so right. the way suguru was fucking you was rough and harsh, like he was outing his frustrations on you, but it also slowly started to turn into something more passionate. seeing your tears, hearing your sobs and your pleas definitely made suguru soften up a bit more.
it was almost like he was back to his usual self; the soft and gentle boy you had met in high school. it didn’t seem like the suguru you had broken up with; the guy whose ideals clashed with yours.
“fuuuuck, ‘m sorry, suguru—promise w-won’t say anything like that anymore !” you try and beg once more, though were quickly shut up when suguru went in for a kiss. you instantly melt, not caring about any consequences in this moment—not when he’s fucking you so well. treating you so well.
his tongue invaded your mouth for a couple seconds, groaning at the feeling, before pulling away with a small grin. his harsh thrusting motions eventually turn into gentle yet frustrating grinding ones. he drove his cock into your sopping wet cunt so extremely slow that it made you beg once more.
“shh, shh. don’t overuse that little brain of yours and just cum for me, yeah? that’s all i need you to do, darling.” suguru encourages with a cocky yet sweet smirk.
he was proud that he still had it; the power and skills to drive you insane with pleasure and satisfaction. especially when he was grinding into you ever so slowly, tip grazing against your cervix with each motion.
you were right at the edge of euphoria; almost there. as was suguru, which was obvious due to the increased intensity of his hip movements, switching once more to fierce thrusts. the coil in your stomach was threatening to snap—
“mnhh, can’t wait to fill that pretty pussy again.” the dark-haired man teases through a series of grunts, already imagining the perfect picture: your cunt overflowing with that familiar sticky liquid, watching it dribble out of you.
claiming you as his. even if you weren’t anymore, suguru still had the urge to. he needed - no - desired you back. he wanted to show you those feelings and thus decides to do exactly that by finishing your little session in the best way possible,
“oh, fuck!”
whilst you were still babbling incoherent apologies, suguru had already given up on holding back. he swore to have never released so much. ever.
the warmth filling your insides was a sensation you hadn’t thought you’d have missed this much. you gasp and finish yourself off solely due to the feeling of suguru’s cum spreading in your womb.
“. . . i missed this — i missed you.” your ex-boyfriend sighs and collapses on top of you, not even bothering to pull out. you instinctively wrap your arms around his back and keep him there.
suguru doesn’t protest and just rests his head next to yours, kissing your cheek gently. a simple peck, yet it was filled with emotion.
“missed you too.” you reply quietly. it stays silent like that for a while. there was no need to speak any more—not when the silence spoke volumes;
neither of you seemed to be in the mood to separate from each other. not again.
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vyglitchcraft · 1 year
Note
Hi I’d like to request Scorpion, smoke and sub zero with a virgin reader 🫣
Gotcha 😉 imma do this HC + scenario style also since you didn't specify MK1 or 11 i did both (except for Smoke)
Lin Kuei Bros x Virgin!Reader HCs (18+)
MK1 and 11 Kuai Liang, Bi Han, MK1 Tomas Vrbada x Gen!reader (+ bonus Hanzo Hasashi)
Kuai Liang (MK11)
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Being in the Lin Kuei is a very isolating life style even compared to the Shaolin monks who live their life purely filled by training, abstinence, and discipline but in the Lin Kuei, everyone you love will either die or turn against you and you can't do shit except just deal with it and move on while leading the others who haven't suffered that fate yet.
You were Kuai's first and he was yours. Although he knew what to do (coming from his older brother who kept bragging about all the women and men he slept with)
Kuai doesn't really like sleeping around, he always wanted to sleep with someone he has a deep connection with but of course after all the shit he went through, he never had time, that is until you came.
Kuai is a gentle lover, cold, stiff, but gentle. He knows his strength so he wouldn't do anything to hurt you. He can read emotions well, for his first time, he's doing VERY well
You held onto the grandmaster's arm tightly, your head rolled back onto the pillow as you see your lover slowly pushing himself against your opening. He was cold but that was expected. He held your head softly, as he broke the barrier and fully pushed himself inside of you. Coolness spread across your whole body yet it was pleasant. He kissed your forehead while he asked your permission to move. You said yes and he started off with a slow but deep pace that pressed against all the right places.
Kuai Liang (MK1)
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You were also his first. Although he had some experience dating. The Lin Kuei isn't exactly strict when it comes to relationships. He hated the idea of sleeping around, to him his first should be shared with someone he deems worthy, and after beating him in a spar, he deems you as worthy of his love.
He is a gentle but fierce lover, he isn't self conscious about his abilities to pleasure you. Even for the first time, he's confident that you'll enjoy it.
The day you two decided to do it. He started getting ready, asking his brothers for advice. He prepared everything he might need and made sure that today was perfect and unforgettable. It felt more like a date, a date someone inexperienced planned but it came from the heart so you couldn't care less about the minor details.
He always had some very extreme kinks and fantasies but for tonight, he won't do anything extreme, he'll make sure you'll go there slowly.
Kuai held your hips as he kissed your neck, his lube covered fingers slowly working your hole. Sloppy sounds echo the room with moans and groans following with it at the same time. He slowly pulled his fingers out and spread the remaining lubricant on your opening, you swear it was cold when you started but after a while, the room felt boiling hot. He grinded the shaft of his cock against your opening before slowly pushing it in. You felt like you were going into a fever, a good one. One that you couldn't get enough of, for tonight, the only one who matters is you and him.
Bi-Han (MK11)
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Falling in love with the cold embrace of death was certainly not healthy. The two of you dated before Hanzo killed Bi-Han for revenge. You mourned him for years, promising not to take another lover again. That is until you met him now. A shadow of his past life. His voice, his appearance, it was all so different but you know it was him, you could just feel it and luckily he remembers you and the two of you started to date again.
He's rough around the edges, even before he takes your virginity, he always enjoyed doing some sexual acts with you, usually his shadow clone, Saibot, appearing to help while he watches.
His hand is always in your pants and you have to admit, he was very skillful with his hands. Be it rubbing your clothed genitals until your arousal soaked through the fabric of your pants or fingering you until you saw stars. The fact that you never did this with anyone else makes it easier for him to pleasure you, specifically because of your sensitivity.
Saibot would hold you on its lap, its fingers inside of you as Bi-Han sat across you, pleasuring himself.
He laughed as you squirmed under him, his touch was anything but delicate. Luckily he has prepared you for this night. You laid on top of Saibot as it held your legs open. Bi-Han rubbing the arousal soaked underwear that you wore, spreading the natural lubricant around before he rips your underwear off. Inky black marks were left everywhere he touched. He pushed himself inside of you aggressively, not letting your body time to adjust but the pain was so so delicious. He spreads you open even more. You will not be walking after this night.
Bi-Han (MK1)
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You weren't his first, that was obvious enough. He dated many, broke as many hearts, slept with even more. But he promised, with you it was different. You'll be the last person he'll date. He will never leave you for someone else, you're different.
Bi-Han is not a gentle lover at all. He's rough, he's egotistical, he's immature at times but you know he loves you, that he is capable of being kind. You were his Achilles heel.
Like his MK11 counterpart, you might be a virgin but you two have done some amounts of sexual activities, usually including ice to your dismay/pleasure. His cold fingers touching you in all the right places was enough to get you hooked onto him for iife and the noises you made did the same to Bi-Han.
For your first time, he'll make sure to claim you far away from peering eyes. Somewhere where only he could see you in such a pathetic manner and only he could hear your pained/pleasured screams
You screamed Bi-Han's name as he pushed another ice cube inside of you. Your virgin hole unable to take such feelings even after all the "training" he made you do. The last cube entered your body right with his cock next. He commanded you to beg for him, it was painful but you loved it, it's why you picked him over anyone else. You begged for him to move, to claim you as his own. He obliged. Letting the melted ice cubes cover his cock, making movements way easier. His cock simply slides in and out like a piece of ice on a frozen lake.
Smoke (MK1)
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He had some one off slings here and there but none of them were serious. Bi-Han encouraged him to sleep around with a few people but he never exactly found any of them that pleasurable. Although he thinks it might be because of himself lacking the same skill and charisma as Bi-Han.
When he met you, he swore he heard wedding bells. It was love at first sight. He's a sweet one, never pushing you to do anything. Whether you two have done anything sexual before hand is completely up to you. He doesn't mind letting you take the lead.
When you brought up the idea of sex, he immediately was flustered. Sure it wasn't new to him but this time, it was different, it was romantic. Everything should be perfect right? He was panicking, he couldn't help it, Tomas was both excited and nervous.
Although he seems soft and gentle, be warned, he can get rough. He isn't part of the Lin Kuei for nothing.
Tomas filled his mouth with smoke before kissing you. Tasting your lips and tongue while smoke slowly fills into the space of your mouth. It was spilling out from the gaps of your lips. He praises you, whispering sweet nothings, making sure only you could hear him even through the thin walls of the temple. He slowly pushed your pants down your thighs, he licked his lips before going down, lifting your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue danced against your opening, his spit making you slick before the two of you went into the main attraction. Your fault for encouraging him to take over, of course you didn't regret anything
bonus +
Hanzo Hasashi (MK11)
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He was very experienced in terms of romance and sex, he had a wife and son after all. Hanzo is the only person on this list who knows what an actually healthy relationship is like and how to actually make sure your partner is experiencing pleasure.
He takes things slow with you, even for all the anger and rage, he couldn't afford losing another partner. He asks for your approval for almost everything but unlike Smoke, he prefers to lead not to submit. He is simply asking for your consent.
He guides your way through every session. He needs you to get used to the feeling of his touch and he needs to know every single sensitive spot on your body. You could feel his experience, he knows his way through his partner's body. Even if you didn't tell him, just by feeling you clenching around his fingers or your expression, he could tell where he should add pressure and where he couldn't.
For him, he could take the form of Scorpion or Hanzo in bed, whichever you wish. But for your first, you chose Hanzo.
The chain on his kunai wrapped around your body and neck. Your hands on your back, your legs spread open and unable to close. His stare dug into your soul. He analyzed every single detail of your body, the way you reacted from the bondage, the way you looked away in shame seeing that you couldn't hide your arousal from his gaze. He sighed and softly pushed you down on the bed, lining himself up with your opening. He counts down from three, every number making sure to look at your face, as the countdown falls to zero, he pushed himself deep into your body, angled so well that the head of his cock was pressing right against your G-Spot. You moaned out his name, holding onto the bedsheet under you as you begged for him to use you, only him, your first and last.
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Text
Have His Cake And Eat It Too
Male Serial Killer Yandere x Gender Neutral Immortal Reader (CW: Noncon, blood, violence, murder, death, cannibalism and reader forced into cannibalism, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, cursed immortal reader) Word Count: 500 (This is really bloody and dark compared to what I normally write, but it is also a drabble and does not contain the usual level of detail my other fics do, if you have played boyfriend to death and its sequel you may recognize some similarities between those characters and my Serial Killer Yandere, he is a bit of a mix between Strade, Ren, and Lawrence, though I still feel he is unique.)
Imagine there is a serial killer loose in your area. He finds people that meet his criteria, the specific personality and aesthetic that he desires in a partner, and he falls head over heels in love with them. He kidnaps them, doting on them, feeding them, clothing them, bathing them. But his love for them grows and grows. Serial Killer Yandere rapes them, forcing himself inside so he can feel them surround his cock. Serial Killer Yandere starts to cut them more and more, enjoying the sight of beautiful red blood on their otherwise flawless skin. But Serial Killer Yandere needs them to be a part of them. Serial Killer Yandere needs to be closer to them. Serial Killer Yandere really can’t help it, his love is just so strong. Serial Killer Yandere cuts them open and grips their heart, feeling it beat in his hand as they slowly bleed out. He consumes it, he held their very life in his hands and made it a part of him. But now he is alone again and needs a new darling. Serial Killer Yandere meets you for a date. You are exactly what he wants, even better than the ones that came before you. He kidnaps you like all the others after drugging your drink. You wake up with a chain on your ankle, dressed in delicate clothing. He dotes on you. He bathes you. He feeds you. He soothes you. He fucks you so hard just to see those beautiful tears stream down your face, the prettiest tears he has ever seen. Serial Killer Yandere loves you more and more, very quickly. Serial Killer Yandere can’t help himself, he knows he will miss you but he must be closer. His hand is in your chest, gripping your heart. Your blood leaves you as everything fades. You die. While you are dying he has never felt more in love, but once you are gone the familiar emptiness is quick to fill him. But you are not like the others. You don’t stay dead. In the morning when he comes to take care of your corpse and appreciate your beauty one last time before burying you with all the rest of his loves he sees that you are fine. You aren’t human. Not anymore. You were cursed to never be allowed to die hundreds of years ago. Serial Killer Yandere is shocked. He thinks he is losing it. Serial Killer Yandere kills you over and over, taking your heart for himself each time. You’re always back the next morning. Serial Killer Yandere becomes thrilled. Serial Killer Yandere force feeds you your own heart and shares it with you sometimes the day after he has killed you again. The curse transfers to him, and he discovers after dying due to an accident one day that he is unable to die. Now Serial Killer Yandere can have his cake and eat it too~ Forever <3
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hurts2think · 1 month
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Hi I just thought of this but could you maybe do Bridgette x fem reader? Reader is like how Evie was in d2 and making everyone’s dresses for castlecoming? She’s making Bridgette’s dress and Bridgette was originally supposed to go with Ella but since Ella is grounded she has no one to go with. Reader has a crush on her and asks her to go instead
🎀Young!Bridget Hearts x Reader🎀
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Reader pronouns: She/her
Pairing: Young!Bridget Hearts x Fem!reader
Plot: Reader is making everyone's dresses for Castlecoming but isn't going herself. Afterall, the only girl she wants to go with is going with someone else. That is, until her date cancels on her last minute.
Word Count: 1.4k
Extra: I'm sorry this one feels very flat and definitely not my best writing, regardless thank you so much for your support. I get so happy to see you guys like my writing🫶🥹
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Castlecoming comes only once a year but it was nothing you were too fond of. Well, except for the fact it was the time of year you made the most money.
Towards the end of Freshman year you started making dresses, suits, jackets, anything you could think of really to sell. It's been a hobby of yours for your entire life, making dresses out of curtains and safety pins, and one day you got really good at it.
It was actually your friend Bridget who suggested you should start making money off of it.
So then, on every school dance, event, or occasion that a specific person had, you were commissioned to make their dress or suit. You loved what you did and you were proud of it. But now, making all these dresses for Castlecoming made you feel a little... Sad.
Sad that no one had asked you, sad that the only girl you wanted to go with was going with someone else, and sad you'd be missing out on the biggest event of the year. Again.
You tried to put all of the aside and just focus on the dress you're making, but it was hard considering it was being worn by the girl you wished you could go with so deeply.
"Does the bodice fit you okay? Is it too tight?" You asked, adjusting the bodice from behind the pink girl to fit her.
"Oh, it's perfect." She replied, trying her best to hold still while you worked.
You didn't say anything at first, but Bridget seemed a little down. The past couple days you saw her she was practically bursting with excitment. Her best friend, Ella, had asked her to the dance and she was so excited to go. Honestly, when she told you, you wanted to be happy for her but you couldn't help but feel a little jealous.
But now you couldn't help but notice Bridget didn't seem very excited and was pretty quiet compared to her usually self.
"So, uhm, is something wrong?" You finally ask after a long silence while you still work on the little details and fixing the measurements of her dress.
Bridget shifted slightly at the question, "Yeah everything's fine." She laughed half heartedly, "It's just... Ella got grounded the other day. So we won't be able to go to Castlecoming together."
You were honestly a little surprised to hear that. What was Ella grounded for? Was Bridget still going to Castlecoming? "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that..." You say quietly, "Are you going with someone else?"
Though you couldn't see Bridget's face, you could tell she had that sad smile she does occasionally. The sad smile that could crush your heart into a million pieces, "No. But, I figured I should go anyway. I did already pay for the dress, right?" She laughed awkwardly.
For another moment you stayed silent.
You knew Ella and Bridget were only going to the dance together as friends, so maybe you did have a chance with Bridget. But she seemed so sad, it felt like maybe it wasn't the right time to ask her. You would feel like an awful person if you tried using her misfortune for your own sake. "So there's... No one else you'd want to go with?"
Bridget sighed, "Well you and Ella are my only friends... And you already said you weren't going. So not really..."
"Uhm. I said that?" You laughed nervously, knowing full well you did in fact tell her you weren't going.
She looked over her bare shoulder to look at you in the face, "Yeah. You said dances weren't your style and that you wanted to focus on making everyone's outfits."
You glance away from her before clearing your throat, "That does sound like something I probably said..." You trailed off, "But ... Maybe I changed my mind." You say bashfully, only glancing in Bridget's direction.
Her face suddenly lit up and she spun around so her whole body was facing you, "Oh my gosh! You're going? Did someone ask you out? Who was it?" Her whole attitude suddenly changed, basically bursting at the seams with happiness for you.
You felt your face heat up a little embarrassment, "No—! No! No one asked me... I just thought uhm, maybe it would be fun."
Bridget smiled brightly and took your hand that wasn't currently holding a needle and thread, "We should totally go together then! If you have no one to go with, and I have no one to go with, it works perfectly." She giggles, spinning herself under your arm, careful to not mess up her dress.
You felt your face heat up at the declaration and her sudden action, "Oh, uhm,"
"And we can take tons of pictures with my new camera, it'll be so fun! I heard it's just as fun to go with friends than with a date." She continued with her glowing smile.
That smile made your heart beat faster. You slowly let go of her hand, "About that, Bridget..." You start, unsure of what the right words were.
Her expression suddenly turned to concern. "Oh! Do you not want to? I'm sorry, it's okay if you don't want to go together." She reassured, though she definitely looked disappointed.
"No no! It's not that! I do want to go with you, I really do," you say, your heart beating a little faster at the thought of what you wanted to say.
You never felt so nervous before. Asking one of your best friends to a dance in a not-so-friendly way was a little terrifying. You didn't want to ruin the wonderful friendship you had with her in case things turned wrong.
"Then what is it..?" She asked, her tone was so soft. She was always so soft and sweet. She felt like a bouquet of pink flowers with pedals that feel like silk.
You take a deep breath and look her in the eye, "I was just hoping maybe... We could go as... More than friends...?" You finally asked, feeling like you were about to collapse from the anxiety of it.
Bridget's eyes suddenly widened in surprise, "Wait, wait... Really?"
You averted your eyes away, still incredibly embarrassed and just nodded your head without a word.
Bridget suddenly squealed in excitement, and threw her arms around you, "I would love to!"
The hug caught you off guard but you smiled and hugged her back. She hugged you tighter, making it hard for you to breathe and also worry that she would tear her unfinished dress, "Bridget! The dress!" You warn.
She let go of you, "Sorry sorry, I guess I just got excited," she giggled before grabbing your hand again with both of hers, "I'm so happy you asked me."
You smiled and looked at her with such admiration in your eyes, "Well... Let's get this dress done before we run of our of time." You chuckle, smoothing out her dress that got wrinkled from the intense hug.
Bridget laughed, "Yeah. That's probably a good idea. Thank you." She said, leaning forward and kissing you on the cheek, making your face burn again.
"You're the one paying me for the dress..." You laugh softly.
"That's not what I meant." Bridget fidgeted with your hand that was intertwined with yours, "Thank you for asking me. You really are wonderful. If I were to go with anyone to the dance as more than friends, I'm glad it's you."
All of this talk was making you flustered to the break of explosion. Bridget really was the sweetest girl in the world. It was hard to believe she even remotely felt the same way about you, "I guess it's just easy for me to recognize how amazing someone can be." You smile widely.
Bridget giggled yet again, "Maybe after Castlecoming, if you don't decide that you regret asking me, we could maybe be more than friends? Like, girlfriends?" She asked with a bashful smile, her own face turning slightly pink.
You nodded quickly, "I'd really love that." You could never regret this decision. Bridget was so amazing and perfect in every way, how could you ever not want to be her girlfriend?
You couldn't wait to dance with her. You couldn't wait to see her in the finished dress with her hair done and looking beautiful as ever. You couldn't wait to spin her around and watch the sparkly pink hearts on her dress glimmer in the lights. You couldn't wait to hold her after the dance and just giggle to each other all night long.
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thehighladywrites · 8 months
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THIS ISN’T GOODBYE, THIS IS SIMPLY SEE YOU LATER…
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⋆˙⟡ pairing: ex husband/baby daddy rhysand x fem reader
⋆˙⟡ summary: people who love each other will always find their way back. you and rhys divorced a few years ago, but you will always love each other
⋆˙⟡ warnings: 18+, mdni light angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, smut, violent behavior (not rhysand), misogyny, they’re in love your honor😔
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m a little iffy about this bc i feel like it could be better but i hope you love it. The smut isn’t really that smutty, it’s more fluffy. Please, let me know what you think; leave a comment😌💗 also english isn’t my first language so if something doesn’t make sense, ignore💀 ALSO LISTEN TO CEILINGS BY LIZZY WHEN YOU GET TO THE RUNNING SCENE PLS IT’S GONNA MAKE SO MUCH SENSE (i hope)
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Getting back into the dating scene after your divorce felt strange. Unbeknownst to you, you found yourself unconsciously comparing every man to Rhys, nitpicking on their behavior. Seated at a beautiful restaurant with a guy quite different from your usual choices, things seemed promising until he gave you some backhanded compliments.
“You say you're a doctor? You?” His words grated on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was so shocked.
“Yes, I am. Is that surprising to you?” you retorted.
He chuckled nervously and shook his head. “No, no. I just pegged you for a nurse or something. You know, something more feminine.”
Your hopes deflated. Turns out, this guy wasn't different at all—he was just like every pompous and misogynistic man out there.
Keeping your cool, you fire back with a smirk,
“Is this coming from the person who just told me they bake for a living? I pegged your for a construction worker, you know, something more masculine.” With a smile you excuse yourself from the table, leaving him puzzled and perhaps questioning his outdated assumptions. Your departure left him to contemplate his lacking dinner date skills.
In the search for someone matching the love you'd known, you found yourself in a loop of comparing every date to Rhys. You shook your head, realizing you needed to stop this habit and maybe, just maybe, find happiness beyond those high standards.
With a dramatic exhale, you frowned, blaming Rhys for your lousy love life. After all, he had treated you like a goddess, setting extremely untouchable standards.
As if the mother herself had heard your wish, you finally met a somewhat decent man who wasn’t giving you any backhanded compliment or was making you feel uncomfortable. Although he was somewhat nice he was a little bland and not something you would typically go for. He was very nice with your daughters but could have a temper.
But beggars can’t be choosers right?
With utmost tenderness, you approached the conversation with your twin daughters, explaining the new man in your life. In soft words, you explained that mommy and daddy weren't together anymore, framing it as a journey of finding happiness even though you deep down weren’t feeling the happiness you portrayed. You emphasized the still-there love between you and their father, assuring them that sometimes people are just better off as friends.
Even though the news initially saddened them, your gentle touch in explaining the complexities of grown-up emotions, coupled with the warmth of your smile, melted their worries away. As they saw the happiness radiating from you, your daughters embraced the idea, understanding that your heart always carried love for them and their father.
Little did you know that your mischievous baby girls spilled the news to Rhysand, sharing every detail about the man you were seeing, your dates, and even telling him that you still loved Daddy. However, being the little dramatists they were, they exaggerated, making it seem like you were head over heels for him.
Despite almost three years of separation and the seemingly agreement to divorce, the twins' confession ignited a flame of jealousy in Rhysand. The mere thought of you going on dates and being entertained by other men stirred an irrational desire within him to claim you as his own. Witnessing other males treating you and touching you made him feel absolutely murderous.
He hates that you’re not together anymore, hates that you don’t wear your wedding ring even tho he wears his, he hates that he’s not by your side. But most of all he hates himself for ever letting your marriage break apart.
Rhys had attempted countless times to mend what was once whole, to win you back and rebuild what had crumbled. However, you always hesitantly turned him down, insisting that you couldn't put each other through that hurt again.
The fact that the girls spoke so highly of the man you were dating only fueled Rhysand's jealousy and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically. “Oh, he’s so nice, took us out for ice cream and we went to the theater,” they gushed. He couldn't shake the feeling that it should've been him – watching plays with you and your daughters, taking them out for ice cream together. The longing for the life he once had with you remained a persistent ache in his heart.
Of course he doesn’t let it go the next time you come around to drop off the girls
The joyful echoes of your daughters filled Rhysand's new and massive mansion, quickly greeting their father and saying goodbye before dashing inside, leaving you and Rhysand alone. Observing them run to the living room, playing with their new toys, you couldn't help but smile. With their father's violet eyes and dark hair, they were practically clones of Rhysand.
Caught in the moment, you looked up at Rhysand, finding his captivating eyes already fixed on you.
Fuck.
The intensity of his gaze almost made you forget the dinner plans with your boyfriend.
“I heard you were seeing someone,” he remarked, and you froze, feeling an unexpected twinge of embarrassment. It wasn't supposed to be a secret; you just weren't ready to share it yet. Trying to save face, you swallowed back any stutter and inquired,
“Who told you that?”
“My daughters told me all about him.”
That’s what you get for trusting 6 year olds. Your attempt at secrecy shattered, and you found yourself apologizing,
“Ah, sorry for not telling you about it; it's all very new, but the kids seem to like him. And I promise he wouldn’t be around them if i didn’t trust him.”
Rhysand's jaw ticked in frustration. Well, wasn't that just fucking great? Your daughters not only liked but loved the guy, and here you were, agreeing with them.
“So, you two hit it off. How marvelous.”
You sighed and looked away,
“Please, just don’t.”
Silence hung in the air as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. Breaking the silence, you sighed, signaling your readiness to leave your old house.
“Okay then, I'll be leaving now. I'll come pick them up later tonight. Thanks for watching them tonight, I know it was last minute. But, um, actually, can I pick them up tomorrow instead?” you asked, and Rhysand felt a flicker of suspicion, silently praying he was wrong.
“ I thought we agreed on tonight. Do you have other plans?” he inquired, hoping for a straightforward answer.
Your face flushed red as you considered explaining the evening's plans, but it felt wrong to share such details with Rhys. Opting for a lie, you hoped he wouldn't catch on.
“Oh, yeah, I've got some things I need to do at the hospital tonight. You know, just some reports on a few patients. Nothing major, but I might be a bit... worn out tonight, and that's why I need to pick them up tomorrow.”
The half-truth hung in the air, and Rhysand's suspicions lingered, creating a subtle tension in the farewell.
“So this has nothing to do with you going on a date with your little friend? Sorry, boyfriend.”
Before you could respond, Rhysand stepped closer, closing the gap until there was almost no room between you. You backed away slowly until your back hit the front door. His towering presence made you look up at him, a shiver running down your spine. Tilting his head, he approached your ear, and the soft words he spoke, combined with the warm breath on your skin, sent a wave of heat through your body.
“It should be us, love. Please come back to me,” he murmured, and your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the proximity. As his hands came around your waist, turning you around so your back rested against his sturdy chest, it became impossible to leave the embrace of his warmth. Deep down, a part of you didn't want to escape the intoxicating sense of his presence.
He pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms around your middle as his calm heartbeat pounds against your back, his words confessing a truth that breaks your heart twice.
Once, because the vision he paints sounds so ideal – the two of you getting back together, going on dates, playing with your daughters, being a whole family again. It's the life you had once dreamed of, the life you wanted with the man you spent centuries with, the father of your kids, your greatest love.
The second break comes with the painful reminder of why you found yourself in this mess in the first place. Rhysand had been too consumed by his work, constantly holed up in his office, neglecting the precious time with you and your daughters. Despite understanding the importance of his duties, you couldn't help feeling the sting of neglect. It reached a breaking point when your girls tearfully asked for their daddy every night, only to find he wasn't there.
Realizing the toll this dynamic took on your family's well-being, you made the difficult decision to part ways. Telling Rhys that you weren't good for each other at the moment, you emphasized the need for him to work on himself and find a balance between work and family.
As you gather the strength to move out of his grip, facing him becomes the hardest task.
Turning around to meet his gaze, his face reveals the devastation within. His once vibrant features now wear a sad and empty color. You utter words that add another layer to the heartbreak,
“Rhys, please, you know we can't. Someday but not now.”
His eyes gloss over as he whispers,
“Fate was not in our favor, my dear. But I swear on everything I have, I will do my best to earn you back.”
Tears well up as he kisses your forehead, whispering promises of finding a way back to you.
The weight of the unspoken goodbye lingers, and you walk away, hoping that time and healing would pave a path for the future you both yearned for.
Because you did want to be with him, you really fucking did, and you cried the whole way home. Rhys had given you the town house while he lived in the River estate. The tears flowed even more freely as you sat in your empty and silent house.
Each sob intensified as you went to your cold and empty bed, the very one that used to cradle him in – your husband, your heart. The ache of the empty space beside you was a painful reminder of the love that once filled those sheets, now replaced by solitude and the haunting echo of what had been lost.
Your puffy eyes opened slowly, abruptly yanked from a deep slumber by the pounding on your door. Glancing at the clock on your desk, the numbers 1:46 glared back at you – who the hell could it be at this hour? Irritated, you stumbled to the door, ready to chew out whoever dared disturb your sleep.
The door slammed open, revealing Sam standing there, visibly upset. Your still-sleepy brain failed to connect the dots fast enough, and it took a moment to register that you were supposed to be on a date with him tonight. The realization dawned, and you found yourself caught in the awkward aftermath of a missed arrangement, facing Sam with both confusion and exhaustion etched on your face.
“Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for hours,” he exclaimed, his worried and angry eyes searching yours.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, you pulled him in by his hands, urging him to come inside. Apologizing over and over, you hugged him tightly, saying that you fell asleep over and over until he forgave you.
A part of you knew you did it to calm his potentially violent reaction.
“At least your alive. Next time, let me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot,” he said, his comment irking you despite understanding where he was coming from.
Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around Sam's neck, pulling him into a distracting kiss that escalated quickly.
Before he could say anything more about the situation and grow even more angry you kissed him again, trying to shift his focus elsewhere, which was easy. He lifted you and walked you toward the bed, the same one you had shared with Rhys.
Suddenly, a wave of panic hit you at the thought of another male's scent mixing with Rhysand's. With huffed breath and panicked words, you interrupted the moment, “No, not the bed. Let's just use the couch instead.”
Your urgency left no room for argument as you pulled him toward the living room, desperate to avoid a mix of past and present that could overwhelm you with regret.
The birds chirping outside stirred you from your sleep as you stretched in your soft bed. Morning got here quicker than you thought. However, the warmth you felt next to you wasn't just the morning sun – it was Sam. Your eyes opened, facing the clock, you saw it was very early in the morning, 3:57. The memories of the previous hours hit you like a brick. A bigger realization followed – Sam's scent now filled the air, replacing the familiar citrusy aroma that had been your husband’s for centuries.
This revelation overwhelmed you, making you want to throw up as tears welled up as panic set in. Crying over this felt foolish, considering your separation from Rhys, but it made everything feel permanent and official, like there was no turning back. The chance to reconcile seemed lost.
As you stood up, the room spun with regret, and you slithered to the bathroom. The sight that greeted you made your stomach churn – bruises covered your neck, arms, and legs. Your hair was a mess, and your lips were swollen. More tears fell as regret, deep sorrow, and the weight of your choices consumed you.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.
In your panicked state, you stepped into the shower, hoping to wash away not only the physical remnants of the night but also the emotional burden that clung to your every step.
The steaming shower brought no comfort, and as you shut it off and walked up to the mirror, wiping away steam, you saw a hollowness in your own eyes. The water didn't wash away the feel of Sam's hands on you. But you knew you could drink a tonic for the bruises, so you could atleast pretend it never happened.
Frustrated and heartbroken, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The one person you needed the most, Rhys, felt impossibly distant, intensifying the ache inside you.
Desperation took over, and wiping away tears, you threw on a robe, downed the healing tonic and quickly ran over to his house. Each step carried regret and a deep yearning to fix what had gone wrong.
Your Rhys, the father of your children, yours.
He was what you needed in the moment, he’d make it all better.
In the midst of irrationality and impulsivity, you could not find it in you to care about the consequences. All you needed was him.
You burst into his estate, slamming open the doors before frantically searching for him.
“Rhys?”
Your attempt at a yell came out as an ugly cry, tear-stained and choked.
Yet, it was enough to grab his attention.
Rhysand descended the stairs, clad only in pants, his trademark messy bedhead on display as worry etched across his face.
It was so unlike you, and it had him speculating the worst.
Before he could ask you any questions, you ran up to him and broke down in his arms. Rhysand immediately comforted you, picking you up, and hauling you upstairs to his bedroom.
No words were needed as he undressed your sobbing form and put you in his shirt before pulling you closer to him, making you sit in his lap.
Your face buried in his neck, tears dampening his skin. Rhysand, familiar with your ways, sensed you’d open up when ready. He sat, holding you, flooding your mind with love and reassurance without a single word.
Rhysand conjured a glass of water, holding it to your lips, ensuring you didn't exert yourself. As you downed the refreshing water, he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering by your neck. His thumb traced soothing circles on your cheek, a silent gesture of comfort.
“Thank you, Rhysie. M’sorry for showing up like this but I just needed you.”
His gaze intensified, his grip firm yet reassuring as he held your chin, locking eyes with you. With a seriousness that touched deeply, he spoke, his words carrying a sense of unwavering commitment.
“You don’t apologize for it. I’m here for you, no matter what. Do you understand?”
You nod, throat closing up at the wave of emotions,
“I understand.”
He leans forward, kissing your forhead while cradling your head,
“Good girl. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
With teary eyes you look up to him and reveal what’s on your mind.
“I want us back together again. We belong together and I’m tired of pretending we don’t. I miss you so much. You’ve been working on yourself and I’ve been doing the same. I know we’re ready.”
Rhysand remained silent, his eyes studying you carefully. He sensed an emotional storm within you and was hesitant about decisions made in this state.
“I do not disagree. Reuniting our family, especially getting you back, my sweet girl, is my ultimate desire. But, I want you to sleep on it. I want us to discuss this when we're well-rested and more alert. What do you say?”
You knew you were being rash and quick, so you were thankful for Rhysand's guidance. You nodded in agreement.
He kissed your cheek and gently placed you under the sheets, joining you in bed. Rhysand pulled you closer, and soon you were resting on his chest, listening to the steady thudding of his heart.
“I’ve always loved you, Rhys, so much. I hope you know that.”
His heartbeat quickened as he pulled you even closer.
“I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”
The chirping birds and soft sunlight streaming through the window woke you up gently. Your body felt completely relaxed and at ease, knowing you were safe and sound. Stretching lazily, you sighed in contentment before rolling over in bed.
You felt the warmth of something next to you, so you snuggled closer, enjoying the comfort. After a few moments, you felt it stir.
The moving object was Rhysand. Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you almost scrambled away in panic before the events of this early morning flooded back to you.
Despite the fact that you had left your boyfriend alone in your house and now found yourself in your ex's bed, cuddled up to him, you didn't feel any panic. Instead, you felt indifferent. You felt surprisingly good, even better than before. You felt right. Like everything was in it’s place.
“Don't panic,” Rhysand murmured softly, reaching out to gently stroke your back. “We need to have that talk, darling.”
Nodding silently, you agreed to follow him downstairs, your mind racing.
You couldn't help but melt around him. There was no need to even use your brain around him. Rhys made everything feel delightful as he began fussing over you. He did everything from dressing you in the cutest outfits to gently brushing your hair. With his big, warm, comforting hands, he led you downstairs, making every step feel like a new chapter starting.
Once in the kitchen, Rhysand set to work, expertly whipping up breakfast as you watched him, a knot of anticipation forming in your stomach. You knew this conversation was important, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort as you observed his familiar movements in the kitchen.
You couldn't help but admire Rhysand as he moved around the kitchen, his muscles flexing with every movement. He had a newfound confidence about him, a certain dad-like aura that only added to his appeal. His masculine energy was buzzing, and combined with his good looks, it was hard not to be drawn to him. Rhys had grown impossibly more majestic and stunningly handsome in the years you were seperated.
Rhysand caught you staring, and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive. The heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly looked away, unable to hide your blush.
“Maybe I do,” you whisper teasingly, a hint of mischief in your voice.
“Careful,” he warns with a playful glint in his eyes, matching your flirtatious tone.
As he handed you a plate filled with nostalgic food, you couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. He had even removed the bits you didn’t like, showing that he remembered even the smallest details about you. It warmed your heart to know that he still cared so deeply.
After you finished eating, he cleared his throat with a serious yet excited tone and said, “Let's talk.”
With a nod, you accept and he extends his hand, guiding you to a cozy sitting room.
“Where are the twins?” you ask, curious when you don’t hear or see your daughters.
“They’re with Cassian and Nesta. They came and picked them up earlier this morning,” he responds.
You nod again, then sit down on the cushy couch next to him.
“Rhys, I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think yesterday just cemented it for me. I think I’m ready for us again, and I’ve missed us together. What do you think? I mean, do you want me too?”
He flashed you his most sincere and hidden smile he only showed you and grabbed your chin with his pointer and thumb
“Sweetheart, I’ve missed you more than words can express. Of course, I want us to be together again. You are my everything and I will never again risk you.”
He took a deep breath and looked down, his voice filled with remorse.
“I've hated myself for letting you go so easily. I wasn't there for you or the girls, and it will always be my biggest regret. I vow to never again disappoint you and to do everything in my power to earn back your trust in my presence. Please forgive me.”
As the faint burn of the promising bargain tattoo emerges on both his and your wrists, a soft smile graces your lips. With gentle assurance, you reach out and place your hand on his, your touch offering comfort and calmness.
“Rhys, I forgive,” you say sweetly and hopeful. “I've missed you, and I want us to be together again. Let's leave the past behind us and focus on building a future together, okay?”
Feeling his arms around you, you melt into the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. His touch is comforting, and you revel in the warmth of his warmth. As he gently squeezes your waist, you giggle, feeling a sense of joy wash over you.
He attacked your cheek with kisses, making him land on top of you on the couch as your back rested on the seats.
“But I think we should take it slow. Maybe start off by going on dates.”
He pulls back and looks at you, his gaze intense yet tender. “Yes. Let's take it slow. We have all the time in the world, no need to rush.”
You both sit there, locked in a silent exchange, the air thick with anticipation as you inch closer to each other.
“We definitely shouldn't kiss, right?” you ask, feeling the heat of his breath mingling with yours.
His arms tighten around you as he speaks softly, his words grazing your lips. “We shouldn't.”
The moment your lips touch, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It's been so long since you felt the familiar warmth of his kisses, the feeling of home in his embrace. Rhysand, your darling, the love of your life—you've missed him more than words can express.
As the kisses grow more messy and desperate, a soft whimper escapes your lips, causing his eyes to darken with desire.
A sudden panic washed over you at the thought of your now ex-boyfriend waking up to find you gone.
“Rhys, I have to go back and end things with Sam,” you blurted out, your voice raspy and flustered between kisses.
Rhys's expression darkened as he heard about your ex-boyfriend.
“I'll handle it,” he declared, determination lacing his voice.
“What does that mean?” you pressed, curious and a little concerned.
He responded with a secretive smile, kissing you again, his touch making you melt into him.
“Don’t worry your little head about it. I got it covered,” he assured, his tone confident and reassuring.
So you let it go. If he said he had it handled, then you trusted him to take care of it.
His assurance left you feeling cared for, sparking a desire for more. More of him, and more of that comforting reassurance he provided.
Before you could voice your need for him, he beat you to it. With a tender kiss on your forehead, he spoke softly.
“I’m going to take you upstairs and make up for lost time. But before we start, I’m going to feed you a little bit more. Don’t argue, you’re going to need the energy.”
Your mind went blank, slipping into a submissive state, ready to follow his lead without question.
With a nod, you rose from your seat, arms outstretched in silent compliance.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms. With each step towards the kitchen, his gentle strokes on your hair and whispered promises of what lay ahead sent shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what was to come.
After quickly eating the food he conjured up, you stood up in a rush and grabbed his hand, urging him to take you upstairs right away.
He chuckled and scooped you up, showering kisses on your lips and neck as he carried you upstairs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his middle.
Your nails dig into his scalp, head thrown back as you whimper with pleasure. Your toes curl as his teeth graze against a sensitive spot, his smirk growing against your skin.
“Tell me, darling. How do you want it today?”
You're only aware that you're inside the bedroom when he sets you down in front of the bed.
You know exactly how you want it. You want him to take charge, dominating your every move, just like he used to. Rhys knew how quickly you submitted to him, and he had a hunch of how tonight would go. It was easy slipping into those roles with him in charge. So you look up at him with a shy smile, fondling with the strings of his dark linen pants, and tell him.
“Can we please do level four?”
Pride spread across him at your good manners. He loved that you still knew what to do even after years of not being together.
He would have sent all his loving emotions through the bond if it existed. The absence of a bond between him and you always seemed abnormal. Both of you questioned the Mother’s decision all the time, hiding the fact that you both were scared of the possibility of your mates popping up and claiming the other.
Shaking away his thoughts, he smiled at your words again and complied.
Step by step, he undressed you, his eyes never leaving yours. Rhysand’s eyes dropped to your pebbled nipples, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the intense attention he gave you.
“You still remember the safe word?” he rasped out, his pupils expanding as you nodded, your lips nervously caught between your teeth.
He pounced on you, eagerly kissing you in a brusing manner as he tightened his arms around you. Rhys slowly made you back, resulting in you falling backwards into the bed before he climbed on top of you.
His hands found your waist amd subtly squeezed before sliding up to your boobs and playing with your hardened nipples.
You whimpered in pleasure, making him smile as he lowered his mouth to attatch to your right breast. His wet, warm tounge swirled around the bud, biting and licking soothingly. He repeated the move on the other side, reveling in the way you were squirming under him.
“Is it too much, sweetheart?”
“Not enough.”
So his hand slid down your body until his thumb brushed over your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back when he put pressure on it, rubbing tight circles against you. It was almost mortifying how quick you melted and lost your mind.
A few more circles and you’d be cumming. Almost, almost.
The pleasure was short-lived when he removed his thumb, causing you to pout slightly as your brows furrowed in confusion.
“No teasing. You can play later, I’ve missed you too much.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated makeout session.
You also wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered against his lips,
“I need you so bad, please. I need your entire being.”
He slipped one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he added another finger and felt your walls pulse around him. Rhys pulled them out before shoving them back in, repeating the move, stroking your walls. He curled his fingers inside as he carefully watched your face morph from a begging expression to a fucked out smile.
“I will give you whatever your heart desires,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again. As he did, he conjured his massive and majestic wings, spreading them proudly behind him, a breathtaking display of power.
Your wobbly smile melted into tears of joy as you whispered, “There you are,” feeling overwhelmed by the rush of emotions at seeing him again.
Rhys didn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He held onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy, circling it and letting your wetness drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his cock, he used it as a lubricant before he slid himself inside you.
Rhys pulled out and then in again until his entire cock was stuffed in you. He then leaned forward, putting his forehead in the crook of your neck, gently biting and sucking hickies onto your skin. He began thrusting, harder and harder. The entire room echoing with skin slapping, groans and pornstar-like moans.
Rhysand’s gripped your hips in a brusing manner, rocking them back and forth forth as he moved his own hips.
He lifted his head and gently brought his hand to your face, cupping your chin as he murmured,
“You're mine. Mine to love, to fuck, to have.”
You nod eagerly, your need evident.
“Only yours, baby. Forever and always, yours.”
He growled softly and turned your body around so you were on all fours. Gripping your hair, he pulled it back, causing your back to arch against his chest.
Rhysand put his dick back in and pumped deliciously against that spongy spot that had you acting like a mindless fool.
“You got fucked this good while we were seperated, hm?”
His hand snaked up and held your neck, applying a gentle pressure, a hint of restraint, as he taunted you.
Of course, he already knew the answer. But it was always nice to hear it from you.
“M-right, there, no one compares to you. No one could ever, ah fuck, do me this good. P-please, let me cum.”
“Fuck, yeah that’s right. But I think it’s a little too early for you to cum. I told you I wanted to make up for lost time. We’re nowhere near done.”
You let out a whine at the denial, a little vexed that he didn’t give you permission yet. But you knew he had plans so you decided to wait in hopes of getting something better.
“Good things come for good girls, you know that right?”
“I understand. Just keep going.”
You knew you forgot to add a please and were more than happy when he gave your puffy clit a slap.
“Manners.”
“Keep going, please.”
He chuckled at how quick you gave in and kissed your cheek, letting go of your hair and pushing you forward to your elbows and knees. Rhys grabbed your hips and gave you deep, slow and intentional strokes. Almost like he wanted you to cum early.
Rhys kept going for a long time, bringing you to the edge, only to snatch away pleasure in the last second. You were tired but knew all of this was building up into the most intense and powerful orgasm ever.
“Do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea how deep my love for you goes?”
Cue the waterworks.
Really, his words started making you bawl right there. With concern etched on his face, he gently moved you into missionary, turning the back-breaking backshots into a tender moment. As he pushed in for the last time, he hovered above you, his forearms on either side of your head, kissing your puffy lips.
“I love you too, Rhysie, so, so much. There's really no one I love more than you.”
Your words were raspy and choked, his words were sweet and understanding.
“I know, sweet girl. I know you do.”
Suddenly, a snap felt in your chest. You both locked eyes, breathing heavily as you felt a thread weaving your very souls together. Tears prickled in your eyes at his words.
As the realization of the mating bond sinked in, a warm glow envelops both of you, filling the room with a sense of love and belonging. Rhysand's eyes softened even more, if that's possible, as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes.
“You're my mate,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “My soulmate, my other half.”
You reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing moment. “And you're mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “Forever and always.”
Rhysand moved quicker and quicker, finally allowikg you to cum.
You were on the verge of passing out, the only reason there was any sort of fight in you left was because of the charged bond.
Before he pulled out, you locked your legs around him and begged him to stay inside. He did and slumped on top of you, his head resting on your raising and falling chest. You ran your hands through his damp, dark hair and reveled in warmth when he wrapped his wings around the two of you.
You both rest for a while before starting up again. Normally, a session like this would have you knocked out cold but you guessed it was the fresh bond.
The entire day was spent tangled in sheets and fucking in showers, other rooms, hallways, kitchens, roofs. Rhysand also sent a mental message to everyone in the inner circle, breaking the news and asking them not to disturb you for at least a week. He also asked Cassian to keep looking after the girls and warned that anyone who got too close would likely die.
You and Rhys, lay together in a pile of fluffy blankets and pillows on the floor, the bed damaged and broken from the week’s activities.
“Rhys, do you know what I think? I think it’s kind if poetic that we broke up and then became mates. I mean, it sounds very romantic.”
He chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest.
“You know what? I agree. The Mother does work in mysterious ways. I guess we weren’t ready before.”
You smile at him and nod,
“I’m glad we find our way home.”
With a tender look and a sweet kiss, he whispered,
“As am I, darling.”
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devilish-blue · 2 months
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eyeless jack and or hoodie somno ? or what it’s like dating them with a nsfw part 🙏🙏 we’re thirsting rn
Oh my God. This took so long for me to do mainly because i procrastinated, but whatever. Anyways! I absolutely loved this idea and just had to do it! So i hope you like it.
!!Headcannons!!
!!TW!!: Somnophilia, mentions of other various kinks, mentions of Mean! Jack, cunnilingus. Let me know if i missed any!!)
Brian/Hoodie:
Now, to start, there is a big difference in Brian and Hoodie. Brian is well, Brian. I like to think of him as a big southern teddy bear. While it might be unpopular, I don’t really care. Hoodie, on the other hand, is ruthless, and mean. He doesn’t really seem to care all that much. So how would dating them be?
Brian, like I said, is a big ol’ teddy bear when it comes to you. He adores you and loves to spoil you with bear hugs and smothering you in kisses. Not to mention, he bulks, so not only does he have muscle, he has a big build making him huge compared to you. Perfect for being choked by his bicep- I mean, who said that?
Moving on, we have Hoodie. Now Hoodie is a killer, a cold killer who doesn’t seem to care. Thankfully the only times you really see Hoodie is when he gets home from a mission and Brian hasn’t regained control yet. During these times he usually tries to stay away from you. Maybe it’s because Brian doesn’t want Hoodie to hurt you so he might still be the tiniest bit in control.
However, sometimes you can’t help but need to be near your boyfriend, so even when Hoodie was Hoodie you’d still come up to him and hug him, but he would just stand there or put his hands on your hips.
Onto hornier details, kinks. Brian might seem like a vanilla guy at first glance, but he’s most definitely not. Does he like Somno? Yes. At first, he hated the thought of taking advantage of you while you were sleeping, but when you said you were into it? He tried it the following night and he fell in LOVE with it. The sight of you shaking and whimpering in your sleep only to wake up with Brian’s thick cock in your hole? Hooked.
Of course there’s other kinks, choking, degrading, dirty talking, pet names, etc. But there is just a special place in his heart for Somno and knife play. But that’s for a different time. ;p
Does Hoodie like Somno? Is that even a question? Of course he does! He loves to get home from long missions and walk in your room and to find you sleeping. Because that means he can use your body and not have to hear you complain about how tired you are as he fucks you.
He also has other kinks, choking, impact play, knife play, blood play, even some BDSM, but it's not often that you screw Hoodie anyway so you’ll be healed by next time. ;p
Eyeless Jack:
Oh Anon, don’t I have a treat for you. Jack was a big, intimidating guy, he’s a demon after all. But he’s sweet. Most of the time. Most of the time he’s a big affection, and loving boyfriend, but other times, he’s the opposite. He’s cruel and distant. He even sometimes insults you, but you know he doesn’t really mean it. Right?
But after these little spurts of hate, he apologizes, gives you cuddles, hugs and kisses but if you go to bed angry? He doesn’t like that because he knows he made you mad, so he likes to give you a nice surprise.
He had always thought about fucking you while you were sleeping, but now he had a reason. So there he was under the blanket in between your legs licking your aching and dripping hole. He was happening you would wake up in a panicked and blissful mess and that’s exactly what you were. You woke up and you felt hot and a wet sensation on your lower half. You looked down in a panic but that panic was soon taken over by relief and then ecstasy as your body trembled and convulsed as you came. Who knew three tongues could feel so good?
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