#fucking foul line just absolutely foul

[catshinji]

og line vs netflix line

everyone made fun of "worthy of my grace", but this change in particular was pure violence imo

[waestlandbaby]

Something that stood out to me in my aftg reread was how unhinged the upperclassmen actually are.

Matt fucking Boyd and his willingness to absolutely go at anyone, anywhere, any time. There's a scene where Kevin tells him to foul another player on the opposing team and Neil specifically points out the unrepentant grin he has on his face as he waltzes off court after it happens. He also is described as the best player on the foxes line up multiple times by Neil and his play style is aggressive, he uses his height and build to his advantage and he doesn't hold back.

Allison and Andrew have the exact same style of serving cunt, in that if you don't interest them they will not even acknowledge your existence. A player from another team attempted to score on the goal and both Allison and Andrew stood still and watched them miss with such bitchy indifference it probably gave that player ptsd. They also both have a habit of cutting through bullshit and demanding truth ESPECIALLY regarding topics other people would shy away from. Badass blonde bombshells.

Dan Wilds is just as rabid about Exy as Kevin and her every first thought goes to the game first just like Kevin. She's just better at making her second thought go to something else. She literally knew the second Seth was out of the picture that there was an opportunity there and she didn't even really hesitate to talk to Matt about it. She looked at Neil and whatever fucked up little thing he had going on with Andrew (as it would have looked to an outsider, let's remember that they all knew Andrew took him to Columbia and drugged him) and was like, how can we use this to make the team stronger. Like Nicky used Neil to manipulate Andrew but Dan did it better and with much more calculation.

Renee I don't even really need to talk about because Neil was always wary of her but there is one scene where Neil let's slip about his father's penchant for knives and Renee's reaction and understanding gave me chills. Renee uses that part of her to protect and that's really great because she would be terrifying otherwise.

[hoshigray]

hear me out🙏 imagine student body president!sukuna and delinquent!reader😍 same scenario but just switched

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hear you, loud AND clear !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: student body president! Sukuna x bratty delinquent fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and kuna are college seniors - oral (m! + slight f! receiving) - face + throat fucking - clitoral play (sucking) - impact play (cheek + pussy slaps) - fingering (f! receiving) - standing + piledriver positions - unprotected sex - overstimulation - dumbification - degradation (brat, cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - blackmail - dick piercing (frenulum) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

If there’s one thing that Sukuna loves more than anything, it’s power.

For Sukuna, the pinnacle of power is not just a status but a destiny he believes is his alone. In his heart of hearts, he knows he is the one who can keep this school in check, his control palpable in every corner of the campus.

Having Ryōmen Sukuna as the student body president of the senior class was either the best or worst thing, depending on who was asked. Although intimidated by some faculty and professors, they saw him as a significant influence on maintaining the students’ behavior for the college’s image. As for his peers, some would vouch that he was the scariest person they've ever met within their college student’s behaviors on campus. As for the students…whether they made sure not to get in the salmon-pink-haired man’s way, did as they were told, or generally avoided getting in his bad side all around, the truth was known in the air: Sukuna is a force not meant to be reckoned with. 

So, dealing with people who stand in his line of power will be dealt with — especially brats like you.

You were the biggest thorn in Sukuna’s side, a true innocent fool who dared disobey him without fear of consequence. For one, you were such a disrespectful minx, always speaking to him with such a foul mouth as if his aura that frightens others doesn’t shake you down. You bat your eyes at him during his lectures, dumb doe eyes that flutter with dull eyelids as if not a single word from his mouth was processed in that mind of yours as you’ll just wound up doing the exact shit again within a week or less. You have no amount of respect for his superior status, treating Sukuna like some big shot. 

“Tah, you don’t scare me, Prez!” You mocked with a laugh. “You and your little tattoos can go somewhere and make the other babies piss their pants and leave me the hell alone. Mind your business and stay outta mine.”

God, to say you were insufferable was scratching the surface. Sukuna can admit that nothing in his last year of college would allow him to experience absolute euphoria than crushing that childish grin off your face. It’s all he can think about whenever he has the misfortune of seeing your name or catching your face in the halls on his way to lectures and meetings.

But then again, if he can’t discipline you in the way he wanted on school grounds, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from him on the outside.

And then, like a miracle to his prayers, he finally had the dirt to give him all the more motivation. His second in command, Uraume, had found some evidence of your inappropriate behavior on the school’s campus. Pictures and videos alike, his smile grew bigger the deeper he looked into it.

Images of you flashing your bare tits in what seems to be a party in one of the dormitories and some drunk guy motorboating your chest, another of you smoking weed in one of the laboratories, which were undoubtedly smoke-free, and one portraying you fingering yourself in while sucking off one of the basketball athletes in the gymnasium men’s locker room. And the cherry on top was explicit videos of yourself that would tarnish the school’s reputation and have you expelled in seconds — absolute music to Sukuna’s ears. 

The thought of destroying your image and exposing you to the filthy bitch you have put a spark of joy in the student body president’s cruel heart. But what would the fun be if he threw this evidence out all at once? He was a man who loved to drag out the torture of his victims. So, when he pulls you aside, to your dismay, and showcases the dirt he has on you, the look on your face? Not even a picture would be enough for him to enjoy such a glorious reaction. He never thought he’d see where you’d beg and plead to him on your knees, only fueling the superiority within his stance.

However, he likes to play with his food. So, he’ll put his hands up, “Alright, fine, I won’t take this to the higher-up…” yet the smirk didn’t match the comfort expressed. “On one condition.”

And for said condition? To use you and see your talents for himself.

“Damn, this mouth really knows how to work, huh?”

Oh, to be fucking your face in the student body government lounge isn’t something he’d expect. But holy shit, is he not fucking complaining. He throws his head back as his pelvis relentlessly smacks the plump of your soapy lips. His hands grabbed your head and forced you onto his length, which you were crying on like crazy.

Tears roll down your face; the harshness of his ruts sting like hell. You could only grip his jeans to steady, yet the more he bullies his dick into your throat, your train of thought becomes more impossible to follow through. 

He slaps your cheeks, “Pay attention, bitch,” he curses from above and yanking you by the ear. “Loosen that jaw of yours and suck me off like the cumslut you are.”

Your glare gratifies him, watching you obey his words and hollow your cheeks. Jesus, the tightness of your throat has shivers crawl to his shoulders.

“Mmmff! Mmmm!!” Your muffled whimpers were all his ears could pick up on, and they made him sigh heavenly. He peers down to meet such a naughty image: your lips coated in saliva and his precum bubbling and piling with every snap and pull of his hips. Your tears and furrowed brows gave him the hugest ego boost of his life, making the devilish superior push feverishly into your mouth. 

“—Mnnph! Yesss, yeah, that’s right; keep cryin’, you fucking brat.”  Fuck, he’s so fucking close; your mouth and tongue were doing mad work for him to release, busting his load into your throat and succumbing to you to drink and accept his semen.

Balls deep to your lips, saliva mixes with salty tears, striking down your chin. You swallow every bit of him with a satisfied hum, eyes rolling up when he grinds his pelvis for his dick to go deeper.

But that doesn’t mean you should rest — hell no. Sukuna rips his erect limb out of your mouth and pushes you to your back with a kick. You couldn’t interject as he pushed your legs to your chest. An exotic position that exposes the damp spot of your thong from your lifted skirt. 

The president tsks at the display with a sneer. “Fucking slut, so wet from just sucking me off.” He slides the underwear and is welcomes to your scent and taste when he glides his tongue to your clit. “You really are a fucking bitch in heat, huh?”

His tongue pets and laps around your labia, lubing your vagina with his spit while slurping your essence that messes around your inner thighs. You’re choked up, whining from his tongue fucking the entrance of you and licking your clit.

“—Ohoo! Hoohh, Sukunaa, pleaseee,” you slurred from the suck of your clit, his tongue pushing it and grazing his teeth with the delicate bud. “Hahhhfuckk, put it innn, ‘Kuna, I want—Daaahaa!!” You cried at the slap of your cunt, stinging your sensitive clit from the rough palm of his hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” another smack to your slit as you cough up spit. “Such a broad, only thinking with just your pussy.” Although, he had to admit, seeing your pussy wink from his hits and teases made his pride sing. With a low chuckle, he straightens up, your anticipation climbing up when he brings his middle and forefinger to wet with saliva.

Yet a record scratches at the feel of something wet around your asshole, the digits pushing and teasing your puckered entrance. Begs fly out you’re mouth, but they substitute with a scream when his fingers manage to insert inside and massage around your walls.

“What, you thought I was just gonna play with that pussy like you wanted?” He laughs at your cries, stroking his ego from your anus, clamping onto him with the scrape of his fingernails. “You got some nerve; only dirty pigs like you get dirty rewards.” You gasp at the withdrawal of his fingers, and he whistles at the sight. “So here ya go, little slut…”

Sukuna aligns his cock to your rear, pushing it with no care for your lack of preparation. You scream at the insert of his cockhead and piercing, and the stretch that comes along his inches burrowing inside causes more tears to fall. But not in pain—the expression on your face showed no sign of resentment. 

“Haaahh, yeeesshh,” your hands come to the back of your ass to help the position you’re in, the angle making your writhing figure jolt. And it gets better once Sukuna’s hips go at a mediocre pace. “Shooo goood…!!”

Your hands find Sukuna’s ankles when his frenulum piercing jabs you with precision with the increase of his erratic thrusts. High pitches and shrieks fill the student body lounge, skin slapping against each other, creating an inappropriate sound. Like Sukuna cares, though; fucking your ass on the floor with no grace — so much for a president.

“—Khheh, hooohshiiit, pig can’t even speak properly, making such a ruckus.” It’s true; you showed no restraint in concealing your wails. If anything, they get louder and louder with the clasp of your butthole on his length, drool spilling from your agape mouth. “Noisy ass acting all dumb on my cock.” 

The graze of his piercing gets worse every second; shit feels way too good, like his balls smacking down your ass. But you couldn’t foresee his next move; Sukuna slipped his middle finger inside your chasm and wiggled around your vagina. A strong yelp erupts from your body from the “come hither” motion that scratches your upper walls, and you can’t help but let yourself go.

Your climax has you howling, your holes contracting with force from every passing wave that rocks your core. You pant heavily, milking the dick that continues to plunge into your ass, Sukuna groaning at the grasp of your anus and the walls around his middle finger. 

He then pulls his digit out and brings it to his mouth, sucking your liquids with a smirk. “Not bad, broad.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[paigesfuturewifey]

authors note! this is my first fic on here and i’m scared cause some of yall writers are SO GOOD ITS INTIMIDATING don’t judge too harshly ill get better i promise also this is short SORRY

“fuck!” you groaned loudly, dribbling the ball once more before bouncing it over to the ref.

this was your second foul of the night, and you were starting to think these refs were good for nothing.

the sound of paige bueckers clapping her hands obnoxiously loud only further heightened your frustration, taking the hem of your jersey and wiping your mouth.

“can’t keep up?” paige brushed her front up against your back as one of her teammates went to take the out-of-bounds ball.

you laughed dryly and turned to her, gesturing up. “look at the scoreboard, bueckers. you’re down by six.” you held your arms up, trying to create a barrier between paige and aaliyah but ended up grunting when paige got the ball, taking a step back and letting the ball fly.

“three.” she corrected the score with a smirk as she ran backwards to get back on defense. you huffed, getting the ball from your teammate and dribbling it down the court.

you looked the court over once, wetting your lips as you visualized the play you wanted to run in your head, the corner of your lips lifting.

paige makes sure to stay in front of you, but you took a jab step, as if she were going to drive forward, but mimicking paige earlier, you took a step back and let the ball fly.

paige jumped up, reaching up to try and block it but it was already gone and swishing through the net, making the crowd erupt in cheers. “can’t keep up?” you re-quoted her, holding up a three in the air as you jogged back to the other side of the court.

this is how the rest of the game remained, the two of you exchanging baskets and throwing insults at each other that only fueled the other more and more. and the fans absolutely ate it up.

somehow, somewhere along the lines, uconn ended up being up by a point with less than a minute left in the fourth, and that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

the timeout was called by Geno, and you made your way over to your teammates.

“bueckers, they’ve been letting l/n handle the ball all game. i need you to start playing hard man-to-man defense on her. we cannot afford to lose this lead, got it?”

“yeah, i gotchu.” paige nodded, squeezing the gatorade bottle into her mouth.

the two teams made their way back onto the court, and like you expected, paige was on your ass like she had been all game.

she was guarding you closely to the point where you could feel her abs press into your arm through her jersey. ignoring the heat that shot through you, this made you smile in amusement, looking over at how close she was in proximity to you.

you pressed your shoulder against her, trying to create space between you two, “nervous?” paige had the audacity to ask, earning a scoff from you.

“i don’t see anything to be nervous over.” you glanced her up and down, waiting for the ref to give your teammate the ball to throw in. “maybe,” you turned your entire body to her, “if you were nika muhl..” you could see how your words caused her to tense slightly, “or azzi fudd,” you whispered, leaning slightly forward to speak in her ear, “or kk arnold.”

paige’s jaw clenched, shaking her head. she couldn’t help the humorless laugh that escaped her lips, giving you credit where it was due. you were playing mind games, and you had her right where you wanted her. “fuck outta here and fuck you.” she muttered lowly.

you smiled sadistically, “do it yourself, bueckers.” you responded in the same low tone, and you watched as paige’s eyes darkened visually.

you smirked.

in the next millisecond, you were passed the ball, and it took paige two seconds slower than it normally would have for her to react. those two seconds was all you needed to dribble the ball down the court, passing it to your teammate who was open at the corner of the court. she let it fly, scoring the three just in time for the buzzer to loudly ring throughout the entire arena.

cheers roared throughout the crowd and you went to celebrate the win with your teammates, exchanging a hug with a few of the members of uconn.

you walked down the line as you high-fived the uconn team, though you noticed paige lingering around a little long. you narrowed your eyes, arching a brow when she spotted you.

when you guys got to each other, she held your hand in place, pulling you slightly away from everyone. “here’s what’s gonna happen next, you listening?” she looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

all you could do was nod meekly. she nodded at your nod, licking her lips before she leaned into your ear like you’d done earlier. “the next time i see you, it’s gonna be in my hotel room, and you better hope your ready for me, l/n.”

[synamartia]

♡ I Got You ( Human!Alastor x Afab!Reader )

♡ Content Warnings: MDNI ; 18+ ; Porn without plot ; smut ; semi-public sex ; car sex ; brat taming ; unprotected sex ; creampie ; if I missed any, let me know!

♡ Author's Notes: For my darling wifeys Hazel, Mink, and Danny~! I hope I was able to deliver on the base idea 🥺 Not proofread, my brain stopped braining near the end so it's kinda rushed, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless~!

♡ Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska

"Where's that- nngh! ... that attitude now, dear?"

You couldn't speak, your brain unable to even perceive the words that tumbled from Alastor's mouth as the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin filled your ears. "A- ah! Hah! Uh, oh, oh fuh-!" His hips slamming against the fat of your ass smothered any attempt to form words.

The darkness of the alley he had parked in kept your licentious activities hidden well enough from prying eyes on the bustling city street, thankfully. But the vehicle rocking back and forth from the force of his movements was a dead giveaway to anyone that lingered at the alley's edge a couple seconds too long - the moans of pleasure being torn from your heaving bosom, the pleading whimpers for him to fuck you harder a simple confirmation of what Alastor was doing to you.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, his voice laced with a smug arrogance, and suddenly you found your head being pulled back, your sweaty cheek being torn away from the sticky leather when his fingers tangled in your hair and yanked even further until you were staring at the lining of his car roof.

Eyes clenched shut from the pain in your scalp and the delicious, burning stretch of his cock ramming in and out - going deeper and deeper than any of your previous partners, reaching new places you didn't know existed with every thrust - your nails sunk into the headrest of the seat you had been pressed against, clinging desperately to something, anything tangible to keep yourself grounded.

What was he saying just now? Oh, yeah - it was something about your attitude.

"I- hah! I said- fuck, I sssaahh-!" You managed to get out in between your gasps, biting the inside of your cheek to gain some semblance of control over the mind numbingly sensations coursing through your veins. Using the front seats as leverage, you craned your neck to peer over your shoulder until you could see Alastor's face, smirking at the site before you - rounded glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, pupils dilated, cheeks dusted with a faint pinkish glow, jaw slack.

"I said, you can fuck me better than that!"

"Such foul language! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Tsk, tsk, tsk," he teased, the flowy skirt of your dress bunched at your waist, giving him a clear view of the ripples being sent through your backside. His free hand grasped one cheek, guiding your sweet, sweet cunt up and down his excruciatingly throbbing member.

"You're right, I can fuck you better. But I wonder - can you?"

Detaching his hands from your hair and ass, Alastor spread both arms across the top side of the backseat, slowing the lazy bucking of his hips until he stopped moving entirely. Groaning loudly at his goading you into movement, you didn't waste a single second - rolling your hips back and forth on his lap harshly. Gripping the edges of the front seat tightly, your grinding gradually turned into a bounce, gaining speed with every downward motion of your hips.

"Ho-hoooh fuck yes, just like that! Keep going!" Alastor breathed out, watching as your hips gained speed with every downward motion, the 'smack, smack, smack!' of skin against skin and the obscenely wet squelching of your pussy filling the air and pushing you closer to your release, threatening to throw you over the cliff's edge of absolute bliss any second now.

Clamping down on his painfully hard length, Alastor let out a delectable little whimper, clenching his eyes shut and throwing his head back against the leather seat. Raking a hand through his damp chestnut locks, the pliant walls of your heated sex wrapped around his cock provided him with some amount of relief; but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

He needed more.

"Fuck, fuck, Alastor! I'm so close!" you cried suddenly, closing your eyes tightly as both of you felt the all-too-familiar fluttering of your pussy, causing your hips to stutter - leaving you right on the cusp of glorious ectasy but holding you back from that heavenly plunge. Alastor let out a breathy laugh at your predicament, wanting nothing more than to edge you, to grab hold of your hips and hold you still until your orgasm slipped from your grasp entirely. It would undoubtedly teach you not to act like such a brat, especially in public.

Had Alastor not been dangling off the very same cliff, he would have.

"I got you, dear."

And with that, his hands returned to the plush roundness of your ass cheeks and spread them apart for a better view, helping you to regain your momentum and planting his feet into the floorboard for added leverage.

"That's it," Alastor whispered, mesmerized by the sight of your ambrosian heat swallowing his engorged cock whole, his balls slapping against your neglected clit as he bucked his hips into you from below.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Don't stop, don't stop, almost there-!" he coaxed you into the beginnings of your release, imagining the way your face would scrunch up at the first few waves to come crashing over you. Thighs trembling, toes curling, your jaw dropped into a silent scream at the overwhelming pleasure hitting you over and over and over again, each wave more intense than the last.

Alastor wasn't too far behind you, and with one final thrust he was spilling his hot cum inside you and painting your walls white with his seed. He kept still as he rode out the high that accompanied his release, his hips pressed flush against your bottom while both of you panted and gasped and tried to bring yourselves back to reality.

"Fuck... maybe I should complain about your poor choice in musicals more often."

[taesancult]

the pet names ask has me thinking… what phrases do bnd (legal line) say in bed? who is the most/least vocal?

the horrors persist… BUT SO DOES MY VOICE KINK let’s get this voice kink party started <3

sungho: definitely more quiet, until he gets close. when he’s close, he’ll start rambling out a bunch of “oh fuck oh fuck, wait- it’s- too much” like that kind of vibe. he’s so cute when he gets like this because he’s always so put together, but the second he’s close + cumming he’s a mess. he can talk a lot during it too, he’ll be very upfront (not necessarily blunt, but rather honest) with telling you what feels good. he loves praising you and makes sure you always know how good you make him feel. sometimes, he’ll get shy when you compliment him, his brain short circuits for a moment. it’s not often that our sweet yeppi here gets shy, but tell him he looks so pretty while he fucks you and he’ll melt.

riwoo: baby boy here is really not that vocal. he’s not extremely loud in general, so it makes sense, but his moans are honestly music to your ears. they’re so pretty, and usually so soft, he laughs a lot when he feels really good. not like a full blown laugh but more so like “haaa-ha, feels so good.” sort of thing, that light laugh that people do sometimes if that makes sense?? absolutely will go “ahhh- *smiles* so good” when he’s close or finishing. he’s shy when it comes to just straight up moaning in your ear, but if you remind him that hearing him is a turn on, it’ll really help him to feel more confident. just depends on the day/his mood, and how confident he is.

jaehyun: the most vocal. i have mentioned this before… he’s a loud one for sure. he’s not screaming or anything crazy, but he’s not ashamed to vocally express he’s feeling good. if you praise him, he’ll get noticably more vocal too, not just moans, but will ramble out gratitude and other stuff. he gets especially whiney and breathless when you suck him off and it’ll have his eyes rolling back and his mouth spilling out whimpers. he really is the cutest whiny puppy. could definitely see him calling you mommy, begging you with lines like “i’ll be your good boy, mommy! please!” he’s the cutest loud puppy dog.

taesan: more vocal, but not the most. he’s vocal in the sense that he uses dirty talk a lot. he likes to ask questions such as “do you like that, baby?” or “does that make you feel good?” because he wants to ensure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. he also plays into a degradation kink, if you’re into it, and can get pretty filthy with it. says things like “look at your sweet little pussy, all wet and just waiting for me to use it.” “you want me to use you? beg for it.” like UGGGHHHH he’s so good. when it comes to the noises he makes, he’s more of a groaner and his groans/soft moans go STRAIGHT to your pussy. when he’s more subby/not caring about power dynamics then he can definitely be more whiny.

leehan: more in the middle in terms of volume. his sounds are deep groans paired with lots of dirty talk. he knows he has a hot deep voice that can get your cunt absolutely soaked, so, of course he’s going to use it. the mouth he has on him is absolutely foul in the best way possible, saying the nastiest things to you like it’s a normal everyday thing. he’ll say things like “your pussy is so cute, the way it always gushes for me” or “you look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you, yeah? wanna see?” like excuse me ???? where’s the decency sir

[colonelarr0w]

soft dom gojo 💔

Sypnosis - Gojo being a soft dom, that's it, that's the tweet.

Warning(s) - suggestive themes, foul language, THIS PIECE IS LITERALLY ABOUT GOJO BEING A SOFT DOM EXPECT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING

A/N - Thank you Anon...as if I don't already think about this man an unhealthy amount.

Read the Aggressive Dom version here!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

!Soft Dom Gojo, who treats you with so much respect. He treats you as if you’re the woman who hung the moon and the stars, as if you’re the woman responsible for all of creation. To him, you are absolutely everything, and he is definitely not afraid to voice any of that. 

!Soft Dom Gojo, who worships your body like a sacred temple. He’ll lay you down and place little kisses against any bit of skin that he can reach. Typically, he starts at your head, then he peppers your face in those featherlight kisses that bring butterflies to your stomach. Slowly, they get lower and lower, his lips brushing against your chest, then your stomach, and of course, between your legs — where he will stay until you’re whining and begging him to get off. 

!Soft Dom Gojo, who won’t hold back his praise when he fucks you. His hands will be grasping your hips firmly, eyes fixated on the ripple of your hips when his snap to make contact. Your eyes are screwed shut, moans falling from your parted lips at just how deep he goes with every thrust. His lips are right beside your ear, whispering “good girl”’s and “you’re doing so well”’s like they’re his own personal mantras.  

!Soft Dom Gojo, who always puts your pleasure over his own. To him, getting you off also gets him off. Hearing your little whimpers and moans when he’s nestled between your legs has his cock straining in his pants — that which leads to him grinding against the bed while his tongue flicks at your clit.  

!Soft Dom Gojo, who can and will overstimulate you while uttering the sweetest and softest praises. His fingers are pumping in and out of you at a borderline unbearable pace while his tongue flicks at your swollen clit. You had orgasmed — what — three or four times? You honestly didn’t know, you had lost count after orgasm number two. Your hands are tangled in his hair, little gasps and broken moans falling from your lips. A thin line of drool trickles down your chin — the sight of you so fucked out almost has Gojo cumming on the spot.  

!Soft Dom Gojo, who never skips aftercare. The minute that your body relaxes against the sheets, Gojo stands from the bed and moves towards the bathroom. There he runs a hot bath and grabs one of the small hand towels folded on the side of the sink. He returns to your side, running the towel over you, smiling slightly to himself as you shiver from the sensitivity. He shushes you, hooking his arms around you and lifting you. You both share a bath, your back to his chest as he softly washes your hair and body, being careful to not accidentally brush over any part of you that may be too sensitive.  

We <3 !Soft Dom Gojo in this house.  

[dark-and-kawaii]

✧₊⁺ Be A Good Little Thing ⁺₊✧

You’re bound and helpless at his feet, the man you once looked up to now blowing smoke in your face, his lips dangerously close to yours… And that shiny knife of his that used to protect you now dragging up your shirt to expose those wondrous tits of yours. You wish you hated it, wish you could curse him, but the way your breath catches in your throat, the way your pussy tightens… Gods how your body betrays you every time ♡

✧˖°. Pairing: Absolute Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

✧˖°. Content: NSFW - Knife Play - Zevlor Eats You Out Like A Starving Man - Tail Throat Fucking - Large Cock Stretching You

✧˖°. Notes: Thank you @cinnasalmon for talking with me about Zevlor puffing smoke at our pussy before eating us out so nicely xoxo I dedicate this to you my love ♡ ♡ ♡

The way he drags the knife across your perky little nipples, ever so slightly pressing the tip of the knife into one of those cute hard buds of yours.

It causes you to gasp and whimper, a dust of pink spreading across your cheeks- the cold blade contrasting with the heat of your skin. He wonders how you’d react if he just gives those beautiful tits a small little slice, a thin line of blood trickling down your chest. Would you be scared? Would you cry his name out, as he licked away the droplets?

The smell of his cigar fills your nose, a thick cloud of smoke swirling around your head as he takes a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke seep through his nose and mouth, his fingers trailing across your cheeks before gripping your chin. You feel like a pretty little doll in his hands, and he likes that.

As he grips your chin he bends over and blows the smoke into your face, chuckling darkly as you cough and sputter, “You look so beautiful when you’re bound. All helpless, all mine...” He breathes, leaning closer to you, his nose brushing yours.

His hand moves down from your chin, his fingers gliding down that pretty body of yours. He lets his nails rake across your skin, watching the little red lines form across the smoothness of it until he reaches your thigh.

Zevlor pushes your legs apart, and he can smell you already. He grins as he watches how your juices coat your pussy lips… You try to close your legs, but he holds them open with ease, his gaze never leaving the apex of your thighs, as he slips a single finger into your pussy, “Such a wet little thing you are, hm? So filthy, and needy for a foul blood like me.” He chuckles, his tone mocking you.

He slips his finger out of your pussy, a low groan falling from his lips when he notices just how much of your wetness is coating his fingers. His tongue peeking out to lick at the pads of his fingers, “So sweet, too. Would be a shame not to savor it properly, yes? A shame to let such good taste go to waste, no?”

You watch as he takes a long drag from his cigar, the smoke swirling in his mouth before he exhales it slowly against your pussy. The mix of the smoky aroma and your sweet sweet honey fills his nostrils, creating a heady blend of flavors for the tiefling. Without hesitation, Zevlor dives in, eagerly eating you out, savoring the unique combination of his cigar smoke and your intoxicating taste. The contrast of the earthy smoke and your sweetness creates a decadent meal on his tongue, driving him to explore every inch of your pussy with his tongue.

He laps and curls his tongue within you, his fingers digging into your thighs, his nails pressing into your skin as he keeps you spread wide open. He wants nothing more than to devour you whole, his tongue pushing deep into your pussy, memorizing every inch of you, his nose brushing your clit as he does so.

He eats you like a starving man, moaning and growling as he does so, his hands slipping to your ass and squeezing the mounds tightly, his nails digging into the plumpness of your ass, sure to leave a mark on the delicate flesh.

It never takes him long to lose himself in his lust, his tielfing instincts kicking in to claim every inch of you including your womb and throat. And before you know it he has you on all fours, his cock stretching your raw pussy out, the length hitting your cervix with each thrust. Slamming into you at a brutal pace, his fingers pulling your hair, his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.

“Z-Zevlor, fuck! I-It’s s’so fh’at, g-gonna t-tear m-me in h-half, ahh! S-So big, hnng, a-ahh! S-Stop, I-I c-can't- Aha-“

His tail snakes around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to cut off your words as his hand comes to rest his knife just above where his tail is.

“Keep that mouth of yours quiet,” the spaded tip of his tail prods your mouth, forcing it past your lips, “be a good girl-“ without hesitating you begin to suckle on the tip obediently. The point almost pricking the roof of your mouth, making you flinch. You nod shakily, letting the tip of his tail slide deeper, until he can feel it pressing against the back of your throat… careful not to cut your insides with it. He doesn’t want to do any permanent damage.

You start to bob your head up and down the spaded tip, a string of saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth.

“That’s my girl, we don’t want the others to hear, do we?” He purrs, his hand holding the knife moving to rub at your clit, the sharpness of the blade dangerously close to it.

By the end of the night your body is coated in cuts and bruises, the pain almost numbing your senses as you lie on his bed roll, unable to move. The sheets under you soaked in a mixture of your cum and his. His cock buried inside of you, his hot cum flooding your womb, and the cigar that is hanging out of his mouth is almost burnt down to the butt… “To think an old soul like me could still make such a mess. Hah, and here I thought I was past my prime, what a treat you have been tonight.”

His hand comes to rest on your belly, rubbing small circles around the soft flesh, a pleased grin tugging at the corners of his lips, “rest now. For tomorrow is a new day”

[iwritefandomimagines]

SAY THAT AGAIN — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

description: the press have hounded you and jamie ever since your relationship was made public — his reputation leading them to constantly claim he’d cheated or just flat out didn’t deserve you. when a player on the opposing team makes a comment to rile him up… he takes the bait.

warning: swearing as usual, angry jamie to v soft fluffiness when he sees you. hurt/comfort reassurance vibes :-)

author’s note: that gif… no thoughts head empty !!! had to write this. hope you enjoy.

Jamie had been doing so well at keeping his temper down since he had been with you.

Something about you was like home to him — he was calm, relaxed, and most himself when he was with you, and everyone who knew him could see it.

If only the press saw it though.

There was never a dull day in the press regarding your relationship. Always some pathetic story in print about him not being good enough for you, or insinuating that he would cheat on you sooner or later, or already had.

Still, you tried your hardest not to acknowledge it or let it get to you both. Everything was good. You loved each other, and that’s all that mattered.

You made him happy and he made you happy, and whether or not other people cared enough to believe that meant absolutely nothing to you.

You were proudly seated up front in the stands for today’s Richmond game, a beaming smile on your face as Jamie scored an equaliser just 2 minutes after the opposing team went 1-0 up.

You cheered, blowing a kiss as his eyes briefly met yours amidst his celebration.

In the chaos of him celebrating, you noticed a player shove at his side — someone on the other team who you didn’t really recognise.

“You don’t deserve her,” he’d spat as he barged past him, “I bet I could show her a real good time.”

Jamie had been working so hard to control his temper on the pitch.

He knew you hated to see him so riled up, and with you around it generally did take him much more to get angry enough to kick off.

But here, he drew the line.

Being shoved, being shouted at, being fouled… He could handle that.

But talking about your relationship when the bloke knew absolutely nothing about you? Fuck that.

Furious, Jamie turned around and followed the player as he walked away, “Go on, say that again.”

“I said, you don’t deserve her and I could show her a much better time than you, dickhead. What? Mad that I’m right?”

Jamie snapped, elbowing the player away from him, watching the smirk fall from his face as he fell to the ground.

He was definitely exaggerating the pain he was in, but Jamie didn’t care. He knelt down to his side, pretending to reach out his hand to help him up.

You were watching intently, confused at why both players seemed to keep snapping their eyes up at you between frosty exchanges.

The commentators grumbled about what was going on, too, unsure about the delay in getting back to the game because they had no idea what the provocation for this little fight even was.

As his opponent took his hand to be helped up, Jamie leaned in closer to his face with a deep-set expression of anger.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about Y/N like that ‘cause she wouldn’t go near you mate. Fuck off, you disrespectful little prick.”

He yanked him up, and as soon as he was on his feet Jamie turned to walk away, but not before both players received a yellow card from the referee for whatever the fuck had just happened.

—

“What was all that about, baby?”

Your voice was soft, not accusatory. You never were, but it still hurt Jamie to have done anything that might remotely make you think badly of him.

You placed both hands on his shoulders, rubbing your thumbs over his collarbones to soothe him as your eyes twinkled up at his.

“I’m sorry I kicked off,” Jamie frowned at you as you ran your palms over his arms and looked up at him, “I wasn’t gonna, but, he started talking about you and… I just saw red.”

You bit your lip, unsure whether to ask him what was said or whether to focus on calming him down.

“Whatever he said, it doesn’t matter, J,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “I’m here. And I love you. And you still scored twice, he played like absolute shit.”

“He did, didn’t he,” he smirked for a second, before shaking his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in for a proper kiss, “Thanks, babe. I love you too. I wanted to ignore him but there’s only so many times people can tell me you deserve better before I start to wonder if they’re right.”

As much as it hurt you to see him so vulnerable, you loved how honest he was with you. The growth you’d seen in the famously egotistical fuckboy Jamie Tartt was crazy, and to get to love him was the greatest privilege.

“They’re not right though, not at all,” you whispered, “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt. And I don’t just mean the player, I mean you. You make me so proud to be your girlfriend Jamie, and whatever those pricks have to say about you, about us… Please don’t listen.”

His lashes fluttered as he blinked down at you, and you could see that he was starting to get emotional.

“When I’m on the pitch, I know I’m the best fuckin’ player there,” he shrugged, “But when it comes to you… That confidence disappears. I’ve never cared this much about wanting to be good enough for someone, but, like, you’re too good for me. And everyone else can see it but you.”

You shook your head vigorously at him, moving your hands to his face desperately, “That’s not true, Jamie. Like I said, I’m yours and that’s the way it’s going to stay. So you’d better start believing you’re good enough, okay? Because you are.”

He dipped his head to kiss you again, this time a much more feverish and desperate kiss.

“Now c’mon, big shot,” you tried to lighten the conversation, knowing that it would only go in circles, “I think I owe my boyfriend a celebratory meal for scoring twice and defending my honour.”

You kissed his nose, pulling back from the kiss and hooking your arm in his, and as you leaned your head on his shoulder you felt his muscles relax.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

—

INSTAGRAM

liked by samobisanya, masonmount and 12,386 others.

y/n: so fucking proud of you jamietartt, as always. i’m so lucky to love you and watch you do what you love every day, and i’ll never get tired of it. so many idiots think they know you and know us and know best about our relationship — but fuck ‘em. it’s me that doesn’t deserve you, and i’ll spend every day grateful that theeee jamie tartt is all mine (yes, thesun, all mine.) btw otherplayer, you’ll never be jamie tartt. x

jamietartt: ❤️❤️❤️

roykent: even i teared up at this.

tedlasso: aren’t you two just the darned sweetest!

———

thank you for reading !!! i included the insta post as a lil cute extra and i want to apologise for jamie being a lil ooc here but i wanted cute fluffiness at the end hahah and jamie deserves all the love in the world.

i’m getting through your requests don’t you worry, and if you have more feel free to send them my way. in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

I’m cackling at the idea of the bayverse boys going through the “baby’s first swear” moment 

Since the kiddos live in the sewer and all the turtles don’t seem like the type to swear around their kids (maybe Raph if especially angry) they would prolly end up learning it from Vern or Casey. 

Like just imagine any of the guys chilling with their kids, and then their little toddler son/daughter knocks over their juice cup and they just go “Shit” in their lil innocent kid voice with a grumpy pout, meanwhile their dads have snapped a wide eyed stare to them cuz WHERE did you hear that word?!- 

Obvs Leo would probably be the one who hates swearing the most and would be pretty angry in the moment but how would they all handle the aftermath? Like would they implement something sorta like a swear jar system? Would they just give their kids a warning? Interrogate their family to find out who taught their kid to swear?? The chaos that would follow sounds hilarious!

Your Kids’ First Swear Word (Fluff/Crack)

Children Series

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I am Danish, and in Denmark, cursing is an important part of our culture. No beeping out curse words here! We say the shit fucking proud and fucking loud!🗣🇩🇰 Sure, we tell children that it’s bad, but we don’t care too much. Remember, the Danish versions of TMNT 1987 and 2003 had the turtles cursing. I learned a specific word for retard, because Shredder kept using it on Bebop and Rocksteady😂 But the turtles are American, and that is different, so here you go. Hope you’ll enjoy💚

Warnings: Cursing lol.

Leonardo:

Romeo is 10, Marcello is 7, Gerardo is 4.

The children always loved when uncle Vern, uncle Casey and aunt April came to visit in the lair. Other than their mother and aunts, these were the only human connections the kids had.

Funnily enough, the children took a strong liking to Vern, always hanging around him whenever he came to visit, which was way less than Casey and April. But why did the kids like Vern so much? Maybe it was his strong reaction of confusion and slight annoyance when one of them came running, wanting some sort of attention from him. Especially Marcello, who found that if he tugged enough at Vern, the human would start muttering all sorts of strange words under his breath, almost like he was spitting them in the boy's direction.

The other kids took notice of this as well, especially Gerardo who started taking on his older brother’s habit of bugging Vern whenever he was around, just to hear the strange words that he would mumble. Words that Gerardo found absolutely hilarious, and would save in his memory for a lifetime. Because then he learned what those words meant… or sorta.

Vern, Casey and April was once again visiting the lair, coming to eat dinner with the large underground family. In these cases they all ate together in the living area, at a bunch of tables, all lined out in one liner continuation. It was here, in the middle of conversations and laughter, that Gerardo suddenly perked up out of nowhere, in a way that only made sense for a child his age.

“Uncle Vern taught me a word!”, he said proudly to you and Leo, as he suddenly remembered one of the words Vern had said last time he visited, kicking his feet under the table in excitement.

“And what is that word?”, you asked smiling, eyeing Marcello as he poured up a glass of water for Romeo, no indication in the slightest for what was about to come out of your sons mouth.

“Shitling!”, Gerardo yelled out proudly.

Silence fell over all the adults at the table, all while the children kept talking and yapping. You and Leo made wide eyed eye contact, before slowly turning your attention to Vern, who sat frozen with his fork halfway into his mouth.

Needless to say, but from that day, Vern really had to restrain his vocabulary whenever he was around the kids.

Raphael:

Joan is 11, Minerva is 7, Ragnar is 4.

With your husband’s foul mouth, one would not be blamed for believing that Raph had been living his whole life on a ship out in the big open ocean, instead of in the sewers below New York City. It had long gotten Raph into trouble with his own father, often being the reason he would find himself in the hashish. Yet he never seemed to learn from his punishments.

Even as you and Raph got together, his foul mouth would be going. Never because of you, no no, never you. You could never do anything wrong in Raph’s eyes. No, Raph would curse at pretty much anything else. His brothers annoyed him - curse. He was angry and needed to get his frustrations out with a good work out - curse. He accidentally burned himself when cooking - curse. He watched a game and either something good or something bad happened - curse. Raph was in a good mood, and he wanted to let you know just how happy he was - sweet words with curses for emphasis. In order words, cursing was just a part of Raphael’s natural vocabulary.

But when you and Raph started having children, your husband was forced to keep his colorful words for himself, only letting his curses fly when none of them was around, usually when they were in bed. But somehow, even when he kept a careful eye on who was around, your children managed to catch a few of those words.

It was just like any other day in the lair. Your children was playing in the living area, Minerva and Ragnar’s laughter ringing out loud from the couch while Joan watched them from the armchair, making sure that her little brother and little sister wouldn’t accidentally knock each other out in their little play fight. You and Raph sat just a small distance away, seeing your kids jump around, ready to intervene should something happen, when all of a sudden-.

“Asshole!”, Mini yelled out loud, causing her and Ragnar to laugh even louder.

You and Raph sat up straight, eyes wide in shock, not fully able to believe what you had just heard, when Ragnar piped up.

“Fuck face!”, he yelled, making Mini fall over on the couch, holding her stomach in laughter, almost falling off and onto the floor below. Ragnar, continuing the game he and his sister had going, stood up on the couch, his little form looking so adorable as he tried to square up. “Shit maggot!”

For a solid five minutes you and Raph sat in absolute shock, still processing what the two youngest of your angels had just blurted out. That was when Joan turned calmly towards the two of you, shrugging her shoulders.

“If you think this is bad, you should hear them when you’re not around”, she said, before turning her attention back on her siblings’ play fight.

After this you and Raph started keeping a sharp eye on your children’s vocabulary, and started cracking down harder on Raph’s own use of words.

Donatello:

Galileo is 12, Dorothy and Marie are 7.

For a long time, you and Donnie had had problems with Marie’s tendency to suddenly blurt out things. You could be sitting at the dining table with family and friends over, when Marie would all of a sudden turn towards Vern and ask; “why do you look like that?”

Vern would in turn look at Marie a little confused and ask; “look like what?”

“Like that”, Marie said, pointing at his face. “Ugly”.

Casey almost choked on his drink, and even Splinter fought not to smile. And it would have been slightly adorable, if it wasn’t for the fact that she did this quite often.

Marie didn’t say these things to be hurtful, no, she said these things because she was honest and curious. She never thought that the things that she said could be considered mean. She just wanted to know, and just like she had been taught; if you wanted to know something you would have to ask. That was something Donnie had taught her and her siblings, but never had he thought that it would lead to Marie being so blunt. So blunt that sometimes even her siblings were shocked.

But one this was being blunt, asking out of the blue questions that would take people aback, but never had Marie cursed. But that changed fast one day.

You, Donnie and your children were sitting in the kitchen, eating your breakfast together, talking about whatever things families would talk about in the mornings. Dorothy was telling Donnie about her big plans for the day, aka, dress up, while Galileo told you about a new video game he wanted to play soon, when suddenly Marie perked up with a question that had been playing on her mind.

“Dad?”, she asked, leaving the spoon in her cereal.

“Yes, sweetheart. What is it?”, Donnie asked, happy to see that Marie was at least asking permission to ask a question, instead of just blurting it out in the open.

“There’s a word I don’t understand. Do you know it?”

“What word is it?”

“It’s actually more than one word”, Marie said.

“Is that so?”, Donnie asked. “What are they?”

“Shut the fuck up, shit face”, Marie said, looking up to the side, as if she was trying to remember the exact words as she spoke.

You and Donnie were shocked, staring at her with wide eyes. Dorothy was confused, looking back and forth between her parents and her sister. But not Gali. Instead he gasped, looking offended.

“I told you to get out when I was playing that video game!”, he gasped. “You snuck back in?!”

“You didn’t lock the door”, Marie shrugged, continuing to eat her cereal while you and Donnie was still trying to process what just happened.

Michelangelo:

Sunny is 4, Luis is around 1.

Your dear, sweet little bundle of sunshine, Sunny, was at that period of her life, where she would push boundaries, and say all the words she heard around her, just to get a reaction out of her family members, sometimes even yelling instead of actually speaking. She had also recently had her first real temper tantrum, which, thankfully was rare for Sunny, but sadly not the last to come in the next few years.

Sunny had recently taken to asking you or Mikey for food, only to bring it to the couch, and eat and play with it, causing her to spill everywhere, which you and Mikey obviously wasn’t too happy about, causing you and your husband to put in all efforts to get rid of her habit. That even meant that Mikey could no longer bring snacks to the couch, as that would totally undermine all that the two of you had been working for.

But that didn’t stop Sunny from trying, often ending in failure, which resulted in her first temper tantrum, screaming over the fact that she wasn’t allowed to bring her dino nuggets to the couch, but would have to eat them at a table. That didn’t fly by Sunny, what so ever, causing her to scream and cry for two whole hours, making Luis just as fussy by the sound. Oh, it was exhausting.

But that still didn’t stop Sunny from trying. No, in fact it made her attempts more elaborate, sometimes even taking you and Mikey by surprise.

It soon became a matter of principle for Sunny. It was no longer about her getting to eat on the couch, but simply the act of bringing food to the couch without you and Mikey noticing it. Chips from the cupboard, a pizza slice, a handful of popcorn and one time even a frozen chicken. But soon, Sunny came up with what she considered a genius idea - a cup of juice. If she could bring that to the couch, she would have won the battle. And so, Sunny asked you for a cup of juice while sitting at the dining table, drinking half of the cup, before slowly sliding off her chair, making her way toward the living area with her small cup of juice in her hands.

Here Mikey was sitting in the armchair, bottle feeding Luis. That was perfect for Sunny. With her father’s attention grabbed by her baby brother, there was nothing that could stop her. And so, she quickly and silently made her way towards the couch, her half filled juice cup in her hands.

Once at the couch, she placed the cup on the soft couch cushion, letting it whopple when she then began to climb up on the same cushion, when the cup suddenly tumbled over, spilling juice all over the couch. The exact thing her parents didn’t want to happen. And that was when a word graced Sunny’s lips. A word she had never used before, yet she had heard it being spoken around the lair in situations like this.

“Shit”.

That was when she caught the attention of Mikey, who stood from the armchair, still with Luis in his arms, seeing the mess Sunny had made, her small curse still ringing in his ear.

After that day, Sunny was no longer allowed to bring food into the living area, with each curse word he said from that day forward, resulting in a week without dino nuggets.

[no-saints-around-here]

Quiet Afternoon

Yandere BFF Bonten Rindo & Bimbo!Reader

Masterlist

‎

a little nsfw spinoff from my BFF Rindo series, starting here, masterlist here! not necessary to read but it'll provide some context imo

tw: yandere, smut, dubcon, sexual assault, double pen, afab reader, dead dove do not eat

The muffled clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the opulently decorated bedroom, though calling the enormous space a bedroom was generously stretching the term to its limit. Tastefully decked out in dark-toned hardwoods and the occasional flourish of gold and silver, the priceless masterpieces that decorated the walls and corner of the room as if spoils of wars were barely visible in the dim light, polished frames and shined metal unable to shimmer in the dull ambient glow of the intricate chandelier that hung above the bed. Yet despite all the glitters and glamor that shared the space, it was only the four-poster bed that received any ounce of the spotlight - or more so you, ever so elegantly posed naked on your fours above less sparsely-dressed yet obviously fuming Rindo.

“What the fuck-” The words were hissed through gritted teeth as he harshly thursted himself upwards. “Did I say about talking to the others? Huh?!” You only huffed, unable to even catch your breath as strong arms simultaneously forced you backwards and onto him, his hips meeting the flesh of your buttocks with a wet slap as the Bonten executive plunged his entire length into you.

You, however, barely seemed to notice your self-proclaimed best friend’s foul mood as he pounded himself into you, the pleasure overwhelming any coherent thought that might have been left in that empty head of yours. Angelic voice that once could transfix and mesmerize crowds now reduced to mere huffing and wheezing, your doe-like eyes rolled backwards as he grinded his cock harshly against that one soft, spongy spot of your inner wall. Rindo was sure that the only thing keeping you up was his strength; the same strength that had kept you safe from the big bad world since you wore him down into friendship in childhood. But it was precisely this fact that had the well-feared mobster pissed off enough to tip his hand and break the sole unspoken rule he had held himself to for all these years to punish you.

Even after so long and what could be considered a forcibly short but successful stint as an idol, you still had barely a brain cell to share between both halves of your head, still couldn’t even follow a single simple instruction that he was sure he had drilled into you countless times. 

It was just a routine job, no more than a few hours to be spent apart from you. His orders were easy and direct as they always were when it came to you: forbidding you from leaving the room until he was back, to keep the door locked at all times, and to not breathe a word to any of the other Bonten members except in an absolute emergency. Straightforward enough, yet where did he find you upon his return from his exhausting mission? Not in your shared room, no; he found you instead mesmerized by Koko, that slick, stingy motherfucker trying to brainwash you into selling nudes. Convincing you that he, Rindo, your best friend in the entire world, wouldn’t mind in the slightest since there was money to be made, and that Koko had buyers - dedicated, obsessed and very, very wealthy fans still reeling from your sudden retirement from the industry - lined up that would shell out a bomb for just a mere teasing shot in your panties. 

Lies. You should know better than to think those honeyed words were nothing but lies. Because you were his and only his, and as your friend and sole protector, he would happily kill every last person who dared to lay such vulgar eyes on you.

“Why were you with Koko? What else did he say?” The younger of the Haitanis demanded, gloved grip tightening ever so slightly around your hips.

Despite the strong air-conditioning going at full blast and having done so for the past couple of hours, the prominent beads of sweat that clung to your forehead gleamed softly as if crystals clung to your skin as you panted, gasping to catch your next breath. A complete opposite from his own state. Rindo didn’t feel the slightest bit winded from this post-work workout despite being mostly clad in his combat outfit: the bulletproof vest paired with a simple black shirt and tie only missing a similarly colored pair of pants, with said clothing having long been stripped off and hurriedly discarded. Though more irritating was having to watch the dirt and grime and filthy blood of the outside world being rubbed off onto your bare skin - he’ll have to make sure that you got an extra thorough bath later. God only knows what kind of sickness you could catch.

You, however, remained unresponsive to Rindo’s demands except the occasional whuff and sharp exhale, lost in the pleasure rippling through your body from the valley between your legs. 

Finally pulling himself out from his spiraling thoughts, the Bonten executive paused in his movements, sharp violet eyes narrowing at your failure to respond as he left himself half submerged in your folds. “Are you even listening?” He snarled, accompanied with another strong thrust that earned him a throaty gasp from you before stopping once more.

Rindo’s only answer was your struggle against his hold in a vain attempt to regain the sudden loss of friction. “Ah-ahh Rin-rin,” you whined, pleaded, as you desperately tried to regain the momentum that sparked pleasure in your abdomen, though your attempt to grind against him was in vain. "I really tr-ied!"

He already did so much for you - the tattoo on the front of his neck that branded him as Bonten was all for you. Who better to protect you from rabid world who would tear you apart without hesitation than the largest criminal organization in Japan? All those tortured souls, those eyes that he stared straight into before ending their life, all the blood that stained his hands. Rindo did it to keep you safe, to keep you by his side. And this was how you repaid your best friend? “You didn’t try hard enough.”

Countless men he had killed who had tried to take you away, who had tried to steal away your heart, who had tried to get you to notice them. And countless more he will kill - strangers, Bonten employees, former fans. He would kill them all for you. But even now, Rindo couldn’t quite muster himself to get genuinely angry at you. Even after you betrayed his trust, it was pretty much what Rindo had expected - you had always been quite the airhead, which was why you depended on him, why he, your best friend, had to care for you and look after you.

He’ll punish you for this transgression all right, but not too much; the thought of you fearing him, leaving him, sent shivers down his spine. Just a little bit wouldn’t hurt to keep you in line.

‎

‎

Sure, Ran might have been strolling down Executive Row with the precise intention of poking his nose into his younger brother’s business, especially after the juicy rumors swirling as to what went down a couple of hours earlier with Koko. Now clean and dressed in a fresh set of shirt and shorts, this part of Bonten HQ was predictably void of souls - no servant would dare be caught loitering where the bosses lived. But being able to hear your harmonious voice whining from the corridor for all to hear? Even he didn’t expect something so bold from Rindo, not when the latter had a custom-made soundproof bedroom door installed the day he moved in. And sure enough, the thick, heavy padded steel door was slightly ajar, an oddity in the otherwise lifeless hallway neatly lined with an alternating pattern of invaluable treasures and rightly shut doors - Rindo must have been in a mighty hurry if he failed to do something so routine.

The rare and untimely creak of the usually well-oiled door fortunately failed to draw any attention, Ran noted, and the full view of your naked backside mooning him from the entrance quickly made it clear what his dear brother was occupied with. He remembered you well not only from your shared childhood in the Haitani household, but more recently from your time on the stage, those captivating melodies that you belted out without a second thought roaring up to the front of his mind once more. No doubt he still hears them from time to time on the air, but having had the opportunity to listen to you in person once, it was clear why you had rocketed to stardom. But ah Rindo - he kept you close to his side all this time. Negotiating with Mikey just to let him have you, he was always so obsessed with you, baring his teeth at any of the other executives that dared to even glance your way, let alone allowing you anywhere close to rabid fans eager for a piece of you. He even hides his fucking gun from you. No wonder he forced you to retire from stardom.

For a moment, Ran stood watching the two of you from the doorway. Rindo was frustrated at whatever sin it was that you had committed, and this was his idea of a “punishment”, yet that baby boy nestled amidst the luxurious fabrics was still so obviously, painfully gentle. The way he was edging you so carefully, glancing up at your face every other second just to make sure you weren’t actually hurting, still giving you the occasional pump so that you weren’t left completely high and dry; what else was there to say? Ran was nowhere this kind even to his favorite private whores. The smell of sex filled every breath he took as the cool air leaked out from the bedroom and into the otherwise empty passage, before the man finally turned to gently close the door behind him, locking it shut. A smell he was no stranger to, and while he was sure Rindo would maybe be okay if it was just him, but he would definitely be pissed if any of the others ever saw you in your current state. Pissed enough to end them with a clean gunshot to the head probably, and Ran shuddered at the possibility of having to bail Rindo out from Mikey’s wrath.

A soft chime ringing out from an unseen clock was like the starting bell of a fight, and it was a smirk that pulled at Ran’s lips as he padded over to the centerpiece of the room. Time to make this little session a proper punishment - he did have a heart after all, and if it did help Rindo keep you more in line, then fantastic

Your self-proclaimed best friend only took note of the unwelcome intruder when the nightstand drawer was pulled open, and in an instance, that look of mock anger (Ran was certain it was all just a bluff) fell away into horror as their eyes met. “What the fuck-“ Rindo stammered, the gears in his head seemingly coming to a grinding halt. You at least had enough awareness left in you to let out an eep at the sudden introduction of another voice, though you quickly settled back down as Rindo’s arms tightened protectively around you; maybe you assumed that all this was Rindo’s idea? Ran wouldn’t be surprised - your airhead already relied so heavily on the other to guide you through life.

“You left the door open. So I invited myself in.” The older of the two helpfully supplemented, signature lazy grin plastered all over his face as he rummaged for a little before pulling out a small tube.

“Get out!”

“Aww Rin-Rin, why’re you being so mean?” Ran teased as he slid onto the plush bed, comfy blankets that usually swaddled you and your delicate skin puffing up under his bony self as the man made his way across the enormous mattress. “I’m just here to help.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” swore Rindo, the previous anger that had melted away from his face just minutes ago flaring up once more, cheeks reddening as he glared down Ran. “I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.”

But the fighting words barely bothered the older Haitani, more than used to his brother’s all bark and no bite when it came to actually making a move in front of you. “You want to punish her, don’t ya?” Drawled Ran, as he finally reached you. You jumped when cold hands touched your cheeks, spreading them apart with a critical eye as if appreciating a feast. “Doesn’t seem like it with what you’re doing.” 

Ignoring the continuously growing threats that Rindo was growling at him from the bed, Ran instead busied himself making a show of squeezing out what was revealed to be lube from the small tube and generously coating his fingers. The shiny liquid seemingly glimmered under the light of the chandelier against the backdrop of your equally glittery skin, his anticipation of what was to come shortly quickly leading to a tent in his shorts. After all, desire for something was directly proportional to how off-limits it was, and you had been off-limits to him since Rindo first brought you home. He couldn’t wait. Casually pushed two slicked digits into your tight pucker, giving it a few lazy pumps in what seemed like an attempt to loosen and oil your bottom up for him, his impatience got the better of him, and the Bonten executive gave up all pretense. Hurriedly pushing down the band of his shirts and pulling out his already hard dick, you weren’t given a warning other than the light touch of his length as Ran lined himself up. 

Your eyes popped open the same time that his head was forced past your ring of muscles, and your nose scrunched, an unmistakable sign of the flaring pain from between your legs. And the struggles started right after as you made a valiant attempt to free yourself from Rindo’s arms, the beads of sweat that clung to your hair holding on for dear life as you tried to wriggle away. “Ri-Rin, it hurts…”

But Ran was already lost to the warm heaven he, like an explorer stumbling upon the entrance to nirvana, had discovered within your wriggling body.  “Oh- oh f-fuck,” was all the man could moan as his length sank in slowly and surely, the feeling of your newly opened bottom clutching and squeezing around his dick pure ecstasy, his mind almost liquid mush. Was this heaven what Rindo had been hiding from him all these years? Probably not, the executive floatingly mused to himself, as he pushed himself further inwards, given how deep in denial his younger brother was when it came to his relationship with you. 

Your backdoor was miles better than any whore he had taken, in a league of your own, and that was putting it lightly - the warmth of your insides around him, combined with your muffled pained whines almost enough for the older Haitani to cum instantly if he had an ounce lesser of self-control. Sex might not have been Rindo’s top priority for keeping you out of the public’s eye and away from the rest of the Bonten executives, but god it should be - Ran would have been happy to pay an unimaginable number of zeros just for access to you..

Even Rindo let out a deep throated groan at the additional friction, before he caught himself and bit it back. Yet it was clear that you were stretched beyond your limit, the double penetration visibly causing strain between your legs, your thighs spasming with effort as you bit down hard on your lips, tears welling in those doe eyes of yours.

Slender fingers reaching down to gingerly touch at where you and Rindo were joined, the light exploratory brushes of his fingertips only serve to intensify your discomfort, as judged from the whimper that escaped your lips. Ran whistled - if that was enough to hurt…. That too failed to stop the smugly grinning executive, the older Haitani never ceasing as he continued to force his way past muscles that failed to keep him out, until he finally bottomed out in you, his balls slapping with enough force to let out an audible squelch. A pause, a temporary mercy to let you adjust to his size alongside Rindo’s, but more for Ran to admire the new expression that tore at your face.

An agonized grimace, a bleed of blood that adorned your plush lips, the idol that captured hearts was lost in the sea of pain he was putting you through. There was something beautiful about it, Ran admitted, as he ran one hand through your sweat-drenched hair, teasingly tracing light patterns into your back - he doubt there were many people who had ever seen this side of you, and it was a privilege he would treasure. The lust came flooding back as your tears fell, and Ran couldn’t resist leaning over to press a kiss to the back of your head before straightening.

“Move Rindo,” Ran grunted, as he started to grind his cock against your walls, pulling out slightly before slamming himself back in. “Move, dammit.”

‎

‎

“Fucking hell Ran, you’re hurting her!” In a bid to dislodge the other from you, the younger of the two had attempted to roll you over and under him, but the slightest nudge had you crying out at the extra stretch, and Rindo stopped. He wasn’t going to lie that he wasn’t enjoying the extra friction - he had never experienced anything close before - but you were and always will be his first priority. You crying was the last thing he wanted, and the guilt was welling at the base of his gut. What fresh new hell was he putting you through? 

Yet for all the nasty names his brain was yelling at him for not calling off this entire session, for not reaching under his pillow for his gun, Rindo couldn’t bring himself to pull out just yet. Against him knowing better than to continue, his hips began to thrust once more, and said gangster could only shove down the protesting best friend inside him.

He couldn’t tell when him and Ran had synced up, their thrusts falling into a pattern of one in, one out. The sheer friction generated was godly - the divine feeling of his cock rubbing up against another felt through the thin wall that separated your pussy from your ass as they were forced past each other. And as the seconds  - minutes, hours? Rindo had long lost track of time - your own cries of pain died down, you letting out tired whines and grunts as you laid spent on Rindo’s chest, the two brothers too busy hammering their hips against yours in a chase of pleasure to notice. All three of you toppled over that edge at the same time, Rindo letting out a strangled ‘fuck’ before like a tension coil finally allowed to release, his hot cum spurted deep into you as he shuddered against you. And nestled as far as he could push in your ass, Ran’s cock pulsed and shuddered as he too released his load into you. 

Around them, the sudden warmth seemed to trigger a response from you, your walls tightening around them as you came, though you barely twitched, your eyes already half-closed as you laid cuddled against Rindo, exhausted. Letting out a satisfied grunt, Ran finally pulled out of you, falling backwards to sit on the plush bed in a daze, the last dribble of cum drooling from the head of his softening dick. “That was- '' Said mafioso swallowed hard, unable to describe the feeling, though jumbled mind quickly latched on to the white cum starting to seep from both your holes. “Trying to get her pregnant?” 

Post-nut clarity hit Rindo like a truck, and the bliss plastered across his face evaporated, giving way to a dark, angry look. Reaching under his pillow, it was that telltale click as a familiar pistol was pulled from underneath the white covers. “That was you overstaying your welcome,” snarled Rindo, as he leveled the barrel straight at Ran. “Fuck. Off.”

Ran beat a hasty retreat, barely able to push his dick back into his shorts before he disappeared behind the heavy steel bedroom door, said door groaning as it was locked shut with a soft thud. 

Alone once more, the background whirl of the air-conditioning suddenly seemed so loud, the air blowing through unseen grates whistling as it drifted down from the high ceiling. The made-man turned his attention to you, violet eyes softening as he took in your fatigued form and your flushed cheeks. Stripping off his gloves, your best friend carefully rubbing his thumb over where hot tears had torn their way down your delicate skin, before chancing a glance between your legs. Ravaged would have been light - Rindo grimacing at the sight of your still panting pucker, red and inflamed from where it had been forced open. 

Sighing, the man bundled your naked form ever so gently into his arms, shifting his way off the bed and standing with a crack of his knees. You stirred, looking up at him with swollen eyes. “Rin rin?”

He hummed as he crossed the room towards your built-in bathroom. “What is it?” His voice was uncharacteristically gentle as it always was when it came to you, a 180 from the feared Bonten gunman who took lives with nay a blink.

“...” You yawned, snuggling into his chest, your eyes fluttering close once more. “Nothing.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet.” He nudged you. “Pee, shower, then doctor.”

“Doctor?”

Just to make sure you were alright down there, Rindo admitted to himself, the guilt that he had suppressed previously now back to eat away at his heart, but he said nothing more to you. He’ll make it up to you, he swore to himself. Somehow, someway. With a click, the yellow lights flicked on, illuminating the marble-floored spotless bathroom.

You piped up again as you caught your reflection in the mirror. “Koko said - Koko said if I made enough money,” you paused, interrupted by another yawn. “You could stop working.”

“I don’t need your fucking money, stupid.” Placing you down on the toilet, the purple-haired man flicked your forehead, rolling his eyes. And that was the truth. It didn’t matter - it had never mattered - what he had to do. All this was for you. All he needed was you.

[novelistrry]

Harry visibly clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop Y/N from going on, “You want to speak of your deception and your dishonor?”

“I don’t think you have any right to speak about deception or dishonor, Y/N. You parade yourself as the perfect princess, and yet, you lie to your subjects. Do not lecture me on deception or dishonor,” Harry drew the boundary between them, a harsh red line that was clear and hard to miss. 

“Is blackmail honorable, Prince?” Y/N seethed.

“Is fucking the stable boy honorable, Princess?” Harry didn’t know if this was actually factual, it was only the assumption he made as to why the stable boy would lie for Y/N for so long.

Y/N stuttered over her words, “I-I’m not!”

Or

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and Harry is incredibly deceptive

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, tension, etc.

Warning: Mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, wet dreams, praise kink, deception, etc!

Word Count: 15k+ with the prologue, 12k without.

Prologue (A/N: only read this if you have not read the blurb, if you’ve already read the blurb you can scroll down to where part one “The Ruse” starts)

Y/N hated Harry.

Actually, she wasn’t quite sure the loathing could run quite as deep as it did. It was almost as if when her eyes locked with his, or she got a whiff of his cologne in the corridor, the hatred would flow through her veins and act as a power source. As if the only fuel she needed was how much she absolutely and utterly loathed that man.

So when her handmaid had told her summertime was officially in action, and she knew what summertime brought, Y/N wanted to stomp her foot like a child and throw herself onto the floor. 

Summer was supposed to be excellent, filled with fruits and sunny skies. It was supposed to be warm and lovely, but when Y/N’s parents invite Harry and his family to the palace every summer, it’s hard to find enjoyment in the season. 

He was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and Y/N wasn’t one to deny it. Green mosaic eyes, captivating and alluring like a siren sat atop a rock luring sailors in with that beautiful voice. Only instead of using his rhythmic voice to lure her in, he used the gaze of his eyes. Soft features and delicate sculpting to his face that were so perfect it was absolutely infuriating. He was perfect, truly, in every way possible and the people loved his beautiful face and charming personality. 

Except when the large wooden doors shut, leaving Y/N and Harry alone (which wasn’t supposed to happen per Y/N’s request, by the way), his mouth was foul and his charming qualities were consigned to oblivion. Around Y/N, Harry was his worst version of himself and Y/N could not stand him. 

“I don’t want him to come this year, Dorothea!” Y/N exclaimed to her chambermaid as her heels clicked against the large tile pieces. She was pacing back and forth, a nervous tick she’s had since she was little. 

Sweat accumulated in the pits of her palms, a telling sign that she was nervous, though she would never say that to Dorothea or let it be known to Harry because he would never let her live it down. 

See, Y/N and Harry were similar in two ways. One, they were both heir to a royal bloodline. And two, they were both so, so stubborn. 

“I know, dear.” Dorothea, the sweetest old lady the palace could find, spent most of her day assisting Y/N in her needs even though there weren’t very many of those. Y/N was relatively low maintenance and hated to be waited on, “It’s only three months.”

With that sentiment, Y/N sat on the edge of her bed that was just made and fluffed, deciding she would spend her day sulking in her room rather than participating in any of the start of summer festivities. As if Dorothea could tell Y/N just wanted to be left alone, she quietly made her way out of the room, and left Y/N to her own devices.

____

Maybe dreams do come true, because the summer season had officially been in swing for three days and there were no sights of Harry, or his family, lingering around the palace. Eventually, she thought she would turn the corner and catch him chatting up a chambermaid with a devilish smile and eyes that would turn a girl into a puddle of melted candy, but it had been three days and even the girls she passed (who were anticipating him heavily) were whispering about the prince being late.

By the fifth day, Y/N was beginning to feel the weight lift off her chest and the ease flood through her veins. Though she didn’t dare to ask her parents about Prince Harry’s whereabouts because that would come with an agonizingly painful interrogation (they truly believed their daughter would wed the man), and a small reprimand because of her prior years sour behavior toward him, though they didn’t know just how insufferable he was in return. 

Small talk whisked throughout the palace by the seventh day, explaining that Prince Harry would not be attending this summer season because he was to be married by the end of the year to a princess Y/N had never heard of. A small twitch shot through her chest, but she brushed it off feigning it as relief she never had to deal with him again. While Y/N acted oblivious, everyone knew the reason Harry and his family visited the palace every summer is because the families were hoping for an alliance of sorts— for Harry and Y/N to form a union, to form a bond that would end in marriage. As much as she chalked the twitch in her chest and the hollow in her belly as a feeling of relief, she was confused as to why she wished he would have written. Not necessarily her, but at least to her parents, informing that he would not be there this summer (or any summer for that matter because he was getting married) that way she didn’t have to walk around for days on end, thinking there would be a jumpscare in the corridor or the dining hall.

A flicker of annoyance lit inside of her, an emotion she was familiar with and actually grateful for at the moment because it took away from the abnormal sensation in the chest and abdomen. Why wouldn’t he write? Or his parents at the very least? What kind of person does that? Y/N knew just how hard the chambermaids, the scullery kitchen, and the people who made the palace function as well as it did were working to ensure their guests were accommodated and comfortable for the three months they were staying with them.

It was very unlike Y/N, usually very polite and soft-spoken to feel that kind of irritation. The kind that was so pent up it was making her breathing slightly erratic and she was puffing breaths in and out through her nose. In a very un-Y/N like fashion, she decided that if Prince Harry wasn’t going to write to her, then she was going to write to him and tell him how distasteful his lack of presence or notification on the betrothal was.

Before she could even process what she was doing, she was in the main library of the palace, sitting at the writing table and crafting a heartfelt message to her dear friend Prince Harry, slightly berating him in each line for his so-called prince ethics (or lack-there-of). 

Dear Prince Harry,

I am sitting here, writing to tell you how distasteful I find your lack of arrival. It is great news within our palace that you are to be married, which in turn, delays your arrival to our annual summer festivities, and possibly inhibits you from attending these festivities ever again.

A true prince, knowing royal ethics, would have written far in advance, revoking his acceptance to my family’s invitation. It seems that, as always, you are too engrossed in your own endeavors to care about the people around you who have taken the time to prepare for your arrival. 

I know our royal household has been working gravely to make certain you and your family have a wonderful stay over the summer, as they have done every summer for the past two years—

“I knew I would find you in here,” his voice, clear and steady, echoed through the library bouncing off the walls and the leather bindings of the books which sat on the shelves of the wall, “You’re always in here doing something or another.”

She knew who it was by the sound of his voice, deep and sultry. He always spoke with such precision and so bluntly that even with her eyes closed, she could tell who it was just by the energy that filled the space. Arrogance and tempting were his two most significant qualities and they always filled the room, leaving her to suffocate in his presence.

Quickly, she jumped up and grabbed the letter, crumpling it in her hands. The ink was so fresh it smeared all over her hands with her rush, and when she looked to see him standing under the doorway, she noted that not a thing about him had changed. He stood with that same arrogance in his posture, his eyes were still that deepsea green, and his lips, chin, and jaw were as beautiful (if not more) as the last time she saw him.

Quirking his eyebrows, he couldn’t help himself. “Now I need to know what was in that letter you were writing. Are you in love, my dear Y/N.”

He took a step forward, and she realized he thought she would just hand the letter over to him, like it was his property to be read. And even though it technically was, the letter was now void because he did, in fact, show up for the summer season. While it may have been intended for him, the content of the letter did not matter, and because he expected her to walk over and drop the letter in the palm of his hand, that absolutely infuriated her.

“I will not give this to you,” Y/N shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She almost cringed at the tone of her voice, so abrasive and calloused. Harry brought out the worst in her, he really did. Though, she didn’t understand how Harry could make this frustration brew inside of her when the rest of the Styles were so lovely to be around.

In two long strides, Harry was rounding the writing desk and in front of her. He towered over her, reaching for the crumpled letter in her hands and before she could grasp the paper tighter, it slipped beneath her fingertips and he was reading it aloud.

“I thought you said this wasn’t for me, Princess?” Harry wasn’t asking, it was more rhetorical than anything. The mock in his tone sent a heat through her, plummeting up from where her heart dropped in her stomach to the apples of her cheeks.

He held the letter above the both of them, the words still readable even though the ink was smeared on the page. As he read aloud, Y/N wanted to drop to the floor and cover her ears from listening to speak her foolish words out loud. If anything, the letter was an act of catharsis. She probably would have never actually sent it to Harry, even if she said she was going to, but writing the words on the paper and pretending like she was going to send it to him was semi-therapeutic. By the second line, she was jumping in the air like a fish out of water, trying to grasp the letter from his hands so he couldn’t continue. To make matters worse, he was chuckling between words and flashing wide grins in her direction when he paused.

Eventually, the way she was jumping and frantically trying to snatch the letter from him was just as humiliating as the strong words she had put on that piece of paper he held in his hands, so she stopped and turned away from him so that he could not see the look of horror on her face as he finished reading the letter.

Finally, he got to the part where he walked in and startled her from her writing desk, her thoughts coming to an abrupt halt on the paper when his voice echoed throughout the room, and even though he was done reading the letter, she couldn’t bear to look at him. If there was one thing about Harry, he always had the upper hand with her. Always.

“I wish I hadn’t interrupted your thoughts when I came in here a few moments ago. I’m positive the rest of this letter would have been a great read, and you print your thoughts so eloquently, Y/N.” He was trying to get under her skin, even though he knew he had already burrowed himself under the flesh like a mite the second he walked in the room. That was another one of Harry’s traits— he wanted to see just how much he could push her until she snapped, because he loved watching her snap.

“Enough,” she spoke, barely turning to look at him. She caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, enough for her to squint just barely and for him to know she was giving him a dirty look.

“Well, Y/N, clearly this letter was for me. Was it not?” He was doing it; pushing and pressing until the temper within her flicked on a light and her thoughts rifling through her brain started spewing like fire, the world around them turning to ash with each word that fell from her lips and targeted him like a huntsman and its prey. 

“It wasn’t for you—” She began, getting cut off by the prince.

“It clearly says ‘Dear Prince Harry, I am sitting here, writing to y—”

Within under a second, she was turning on her heels to face him once more and trying to pry the letter from his fingers. To no avail, she didn’t think she could handle him reading the letter out loud once more, so she covered her ears and began begging him to stop. The worst part was the feeling she had in her gut, the feeling one gets in their gut and their throat before the tears start forming in their eyes. While Harry had many horrid qualities about him, one of her terrible qualities were tears that formed, not out of sadness, but out of anger. Deeply, she inhaled to smooth out her thoughts and quiet her mind. “Stop, stop, stop.”

Grinning like the devil, he spoke slowly and quietly so any chambermaids passing by could not hear the words he was about to speak to her, “Are you embarrassed, Princess? The girl everyone thinks is so ladylike and polite writing words that would tarnish that sweet reputation.”

“I was never going to send it, and I think you know that,” she countered, and even though she knew he knew that letter was never going to leave her possession, she felt like she needed to reiterate that point.

Carefully and slowly—almost painfully slowly— he brought his finger to her cheeks and swiped across to feel the heat radiating off of her skin and she knew he was gaining even more satisfaction at the heat in her cheeks confirming his question, that she was embarrassed by him finding her letter. To rub salt in the wound, he folded the letter up and stuffed it in the pit of his pocket where she would not dare to fish out, as it was not very polite to stick your hand in someone else’s pocket, “For safekeeping,” he stated.

Those two words made her want to do it— stick her hand in his pocket and fish the letter out, tear it in little tiny pieces, and then stomp on the shreds of paper right in front of him, but she wouldn’t do it because she, unlike him, did not lack manners.

“You are absolutely unbearable, Prince. Do not think my opinion on you has changed. I can assure you it has not,” she wanted to get under his skin the way he got under hers, so she added, “Where is your betrothed?” 

He paused for a moment, searching for the words, “I am not to be married, Y/N.”

The tone was cut and brief, not the same tone he had when she was pushing his buttons, but a clear line was drawn showing her this is where the boundary was placed, and as much as she wanted to upset him the way he upset her, Y/N did not want to pick and pry about his presumably failed engagement. Though, she did not blame the girl for not wanting to marry someone with such an insufferable attitude. And maybe, just maybe, she also didn’t want to hear about the girl. She didn’t want Harry to talk about how beautiful she was, or what her hobbies were. She didn’t want to know a thing about her or how she wormed her way into the heart of someone so aloof and out of touch with the idea of love. To put it plainly, she didn’t want to hear about their courtship and what he did to make her swoon.

Y/N would never admit it, but the first time she ever met Harry, she was taken with him. And then he opened his mouth, all-knowing and witty bordering intolerable.

“Well, then,” Y/N didn’t quite know what to say in response, seeming to be more uncomfortable with the idea of him getting married than he was.

With a mere couple inches between them, he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Soft lips grazed the tops of her ears, a warm heat shooting through her, and though she was disgusted with herself for having such an instinctual reaction to his body and his lips so close to her skin, she was graceful enough to remind herself that it was only natural for her core to stir and her stomach to flip.

And when he finally spoke, his lips moved against her ear, “I am going to enjoy playing with you this summer, Y/N.”

She wanted to scream. She almost did.

Instead she took a step back, gasping and brushing out the wrinkles in her dress, “I absolutely loathe you.”

“I love that you loathe me,” he replied before turning on his heels and walking out of the library.

Y/N knew it was going to be a long summer filled with taunts from Harry.

And much to her dismay, that night she dreamed about his lips pressing against her.

I. The Ruse

Y/N had told Dorothea she was feeling too ill to attend the breakfast table that morning. Albeit, the truth of the matter was that she was shaken by her dreams poisoned by Harry— maybe they were good dreams about his lips, his fingers, the way he caressed her cheek, but the fact that it was Harry doing those things to her was enough to deduce it was a nightmare. A terrible, terrible nightmare.

“Should I fetch you some tea?” Dorothea pressed her hand to Y/N’s forehead, feeling for a fever, but when the skin under her hands was cool rather than clammy, Dorothea raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 

“No, no,” Y/N swung the covers over her, revealing her nightgown. Stiffly, she planted her feet on the wooden planks beneath the bed as she made a show of stretching, “Don’t fuss over me. I’m already feeling much better, Dorothea.”

“Better enough to attend breakfast?” Dorothea questioned her, the brow still raised in suspicion, and Y/N knows she should just tell Dorothea the truth but it was her stubborn nature that prevented her from letting Dorothea know about her encounter with the Prince yesterday. 

“I believe it’s late anyway,” Y/N reasoned, “I will fetch something when the dining hall has been cleared out.”

Dorothea only shook her head in disappointment, but Y/N pretended not to notice. 

______________

In an effort to maintain his dignity, Harry had to stop looking at the chestnut oak double doors separating the dining hall from the rest of the castle. Each time a servant opened the door to replenish something on the table, Harry’s head snapped over, hoping it would be Y/N that walked through the doors just so he could see her again. 

It was agonizing, honestly. She was sweeter than droplets of nectar. Bees were probably drawn to her, knowing her personality was as sweet as the honey they produced, attracting to her like the pollen they longed to search for. 

That, precisely, is why she aggravated Harry so much. From the time Harry was born, it was engraved in his brain that he was a ruler; he was honorable, decisive, and empathetic. All the qualities that made up a leader, and he knew it, too. Though, he was self-aware enough to know where he was lacking, and he was lacking (probably) the most important quality a leader can have—compassion and the ability to connect. 

For Y/N, that was something that came so naturally. She could connect with just about anyone. The princess blended in with the common folk so... Seamlessly, it was absolutely infuriating. Harry had tried, plenty of times, to blend in, to connect with his people and his royal household but he could never achieve it the way Y/N did. She was a real princess, and it made him feel like a fraud. 

Years had passed with him learning about how to rule, the best way, the honorable way. For Y/N, it seemed that she was born with the knowledge, never having to lift a finger or read a book. 

So it pleased him, angering her to the point of outbursts. In her court, she was polite, loved, and deemed the absolute most charismatic one can be. When she was just about shaking with rage, foul words dripping from her lips, that is when Harry was content— when she looked less like a statue, the perfect creation this court has formed her to be, and more like a human. More like him. 

That is when the irritation he felt toward her stopped festering, just for a moment in time. 

And he knew he was absolutely terrible for it, absolutely atrocious, but he wanted to corrupt her. Ruin the molding she was fit into. 

Sounds of fingers fiddling on the doorknob caused him to look up, and when a servant walked in with another tray of warm bread and fresh butter, his eyes averted to his plate to avoid the teasing that was about to come from the King’s Hand— or well, Prince’s Hand, really, since he wouldn’t truly be the King’s Hand until Harry’s coronation.

But he was too late, and the words were already coming out of Niall’s mouth, “If you’re going to keep glancing up every time someone walks in, wishing her to walk through those doors, then why don’t you just go seek her out?”

“I don’t wish for her to walk through those doors, Niall,” Harry’s jaw tensed as he spoke, the inclination that he was waiting for her making him somewhat irate, “I am merely observing, isn’t that important? To be aware of one’s surroundings?”

“Yes,” Niall sucked in his teeth, moving his gaze from the angle of Harry’s jaw back to his plate of food, “Indeed it is.”

Harry spread butter on a fresh piece of bread, ignoring Niall’s comment, and when Niall realized Harry wasn’t going to say anything else, he continued to poke the bear. “Why didn’t you marry Duchess Violet when you had the opportunity? Why push the wedding? So you could come here? See her?”

A hiss left Harry’s mouth before answering in a hushed voice, low enough that the people around them could not hear. “Why so many questions, Niall?”

“I’m trying to understand,” he shrugged his shoulders, the level of his voice now matching Harry’s.

“I pushed the wedding because I did not want to marry the Duchess, Niall. Simple as that. I came here because my parents are convinced that Princess Y/N and I will form an attachment if I spend enough time with her. That is what they want after all.”

“Then what?” Niall’s questioning was causing sweat to bead on Harry’s forehead. He didn’t want to think of the then what factor.

“I suppose when I return home, the arrangement between the Duchess and I will initiate once more.” Harry cocked his head over to Niall, dropping the piece of bread on his plate. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“What is your game here this summer, Prince?” Niall asked, locking eyes with Harry’s whose eyes were the same pigment as a field of green clovers populating in the crisp months of Spring, mischief dancing in his irises.

Slowly and carefully he gave Niall the essence of his plan, “I will convince the Princess to form an alliance with me— A facade, if you will. We will put on a show, and before our attachment is sealed with a ring, she will say she can no longer do it. And I will be so heartbroken, to the nation’s knowledge, that they will not pester me about marrying. I do not need to marry. I will not need to marry.”

“And will you be heartbroken, Prince?” This seemed to be Niall’s only concern.

“No,” Harry paused and then added on, “I do not believe so.”

“And what if she does not agree to a facade?” 

“Then I will charm her. Seduce her.” This was all Harry was willing to say on the matter as he pushed his chair up.

______________

Y/N, to her credit, was full of secrets.

Every now and again, she would poke her head out, scan the corridor, then jump back into her bedchamber when she heard the sound of heels clicking against the flooring. 

And she’s never felt quite so childish before. Usually, when Harry came for the summer, Y/N didn’t go out of her way to avoid him, but after their interaction in the study she didn’t think she was ready to face him yet. 

If Y/N was honest with herself, two years ago when she first met the prince, she was quite smitten. And maybe it was the fact that he was engaged to someone else. .. Someone Y/N didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t bother to tell her, or write to her family that got her so worked up. Maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that someone wormed their way into his icy chest and planted a seed of fire that caused him to want them.

She had trouble admitting it to herself, but she fancied Harry more than she let on. The only person in the entire castle that knew just how deep her feelings for Harry ran was Dorothea, though the words had never left Y/N’s lips and they might not ever. 

Rage has simmered in her gut, boiling over into her fingertips that flowed against the page where she etched words onto a canvas that conveyed her grievances with Harry. The memory of her sitting there, rage-writing a letter she never intended to send, and Harry snatching it out of her hands and reading aloud sent a churn in her stomach, the humiliation of the moment festering inside her once more. 

The true reason she had been avoiding him, at last. She was utterly embarrassed by the entire ordeal. All he had to do was read in between the lines, and all of her feelings were on display. Harry having that letter was a different kind of vulnerability. 

So she snuck out to the stables, where her good friend Brad worked as the stable boy. Y/N and Brad shared a secret the people did not know, it was kept between the two of them, and she liked Brad for the fact he has known her secret for about four years and has not told a soul has made her like them all the more. 

Boots trudged in the muddy grass as she made her way out to the stables, where Brad tended to her horses (and the other horses, of course). Birds cooed in the sky, the sing-song noises filling her ears and putting her at peace for the first time since yesterday. 

When she had finally made it to the big barn, nearly a quarter mile away from the actual castle, Brad was nowhere to be seen. Quietly, she lurked around, craning her head around corners and scouting him out. 

Right as she was about to call out his name, because it was very unlikely for him to not be here, she rounded one more corner and saw him nestled next to the Prince— next to Harry. 

She almost audibly groaned when she saw him standing there, invading her space. Where she liked to go to clear her head, but before a noise could escape her lips, she realized if she slowly backed out of the hall then she might escape the pair before either of them saw her.

As she slowly tried to back out of the hall encompassed by horse stables, the two rather close together, both snapped their heads in her direction. Two sets of eyes locked with hers, her mouth watering as her stomach turns nervously when Harry’s green gaze of disapproval scans her up and down.

“Y/N?” Brad asked, projecting his tone down the length of the hall so she could hear him clearly, “What are you doing all the way down there?”

“Nothing!” Her tone projected as well, matching Brad’s. “I was thinking I could see Freya, but I see you’re busy.”

“Why don’t you come closer, Princess? So we don’t have to shout too loud.” Harry said, and Y/N knew the look upon his face. Whenever he was about to do something devious, a smirk would spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the game he was about to partake in.

And Y/N doesn’t know why she listened to him, why she didn’t just turn away, but before she could tell herself to stop, she was walking toward the both of them. Each step felt shameful, her eyes averting from Harry’s and to Brad. She couldn’t stand the way Harry looked at her, like she was a toy, like he could burn holes through her soul if he really wanted to.

She shifted her body to angle more toward Brad, not completely cutting Harry out of the circle they were now standing in, but angling herself enough to show that her body language was more open to Brad than she was to Harry.

“Isn’t this one Freya?” Harry pointed to the stall directly across from them. There stood her light gray horse, mane and tail braided perfectly. 

Actually, if someone saw Y/N and Freya standing side by side, they would simply know Freya was meant for Y/N by the way she holds herself; strong, with a gentle demeanor radiating off her. The only problem is that people would never see Freya and Y/N side by side, because Y/N (as much as she loved Freya) was too afraid to take her out of her stall. In Y/N’s kingdom, it was inevitable that every young prince or princess had to ride, because at their coronation one of the requirements was to ride in on their horse. The issue wasn’t that Y/N didn’t know how to ride. She did. The issue was that Y/N wouldn’t because of an accident that happened three years ago, leaving Y/N scared to ever get on the back of a horse, or to even walk around with her lead rope in hand. Nobody knew, except Brad, that Y/N hadn’t been on the back of her horse since the accident, it was a secret the two of them kept together.

“Yes,” Y/N turned to him, just slightly, “That is her.”

“Go on, then,” Harry motioned toward her, “We don’t mind if you take her out.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped, glancing at Brad to see if he could help her worm her way out of this situation. He has helped her before, when her parents would find her in the stable and ask if she wanted to go on a ride with them. Brad would say something like, Princess Y/N just put Freya back, they went on a lengthy ride earlier and Freya is resting now. It made Y/N feel selfish to know how much trouble Brad could get in for lying, but she was too much of a coward to tell anyone her fears.

Brad interjected, just not with what she hoped for, “Y/N doesn’t ride.”

Confusion contorted Y/N’s features as he outed her secret to the one person she didn’t want to know an inkling about her. “Brad!”

Brad’s eyes widened slightly, his brows raising as he replied, “I’m sorry, Y/N! I thought it was okay for him to know? It’s not as if he lives in the palace.”

Harry stepped closer, putting a pin in the conversation Brad and Y/N were beginning to have right in front of him, “Why doesn’t she ride?”

Brad waited, momentarily, for Y/N to respond but when her lips stayed sealed, withholding the information from Harry he decided to come clean for her. “Y/N has panic attacks when she gets too close to horses. Nobody knows.”

At least he didn’t tell Harry why horses made her panic.

“Yet you come out here anyway?”

Heedfully, she took in a deep breath and began to collect her thoughts which seemed to be swimming everywhere. These past two days, she had never felt so exposed, so bare in front of him. First with the letter, and now with Brad’s indiscretion to Y/N’s secret. “As you may already know, horse riding is big in our culture, so I come out here to keep up appearances. And, I do love my Freya.”

“You’re a fraud, then? A liar?” Harry sucked in a breath, that grin teetering on amusement— a fine line between pure and utter cruelty. 

“If that’s what you will call it,” Y/N tried not to let the emotions welling inside show on her face, remaining neutral and stoic was the best way to ignore Harry. She, too, could sink her claws in him and tear him apart by simply ignoring him. “I must be going.”

Swiftly, she turned, paying no mind to Freya and blocking out the snickering coming from Harry as she walked out of the barn. Her boots trudged in the mud once more, and the frustration brewing inside was threatening to spill over, though she would not allow it to until she was alone in the privacy of her own room. 

The palace was in plain sight, she only needed to walk a straight narrow path before she could take a side door to the main corridor and scurry off to her room (hopefully avoiding many of the household staff on the way). It was unfair, but she wanted to yell at Brad for offering Harry such private information. Should she blame him, though? He’s been keeping her secret for nearly three years, lying for her, and obviously he didn’t know that Harry had brutish tendencies— especially when it came to her. In fact, she thought back to it. The way the two of them were standing, how Harry was shifting closer to Brad with each word. If Y/N didn’t know better, Harry was trying to turn Brad into putty in his hands which honestly might have been more of an issue than him knowing her secret panic attacks she would have in the privacy of Freya’s stall. Was Harry interested in Brad, trying to charm him with his good looks and that personality that oozed sweetness? Y/N may have never seen that side of him, but amongst the chambermaids he was quite the sweet-talker.

“Y/N,” a low, gruff voice called from behind her. When she tried to pick up the pace, she only heard the shuffling of Harry’s boots behind her go faster. 

It wasn’t like she would be able to escape him, if he truly wanted to pester her he would find her in her bedchamber. It was better to have a discussion with him out in the open instead of him tainting her bedchamber with his attitude. 

“What?” She turned on her heels and snapped her head toward him, the tone of her voice laced with anger.

“I wanted to have a discussion with you,” he took a few steps closer so they were only an arms distance from each other. He wanted his next words to be just barely above a whisper.

“Then speak,” Y/N pursed her lips together, crossing her arms so that she could shield herself against him in some way. Clearly, crossing her arms wasn’t actually going to protect her from him, but in a way, it felt like a mental shield, keeping him out of her head and far away.

“It has been two days of me gracing you with my company, and within those two days, I have obtained a letter I’m convinced you would not like to fall into the wrong hands, and I have discovered you have been deceiving many people and getting the stable boy to lie for you,” Harry’s pointer finger traced under her chin, noting the shiver that ran down her back as she stepped away from his touch, “Now, if you do not want that letter circulating throughout the palace, and if you do not want everyone to know you are a fraud, then you will offer me something I need.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Harry was blackmailing her? She had always taken him for possessing a certain cruelty about him, but never thought he would stoop low to the point where blackmail (quite literally when she takes the letter into consideration) would be hanging over her head like a bundle of mistletoe. 

“What is wrong with you?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stepping backward as her arms tightened around herself once more. 

“What is your answer, Y/N?” He spoke with such an airy indifference that she almost couldn’t tell if he was playing a very humorless joke on her.

“I don’t believe I have much of a choice in the matter!” She barked back, and that flicker of anger displayed on her face and in her tone of voice made his lips curve up into a cursed smile, so she tried to cool herself down and remain stoic— just as unbothered as he seemed to be.

“I am giving you a choice, darling,” Harry said, the word rolling off his tongue like the pet name was second nature to him, “One option is unfavorable, though. For you, at the very least.”

It was written across his face; either answer she gave him was a win for him. This was a situation where she was going to lose, a situation where the upper hand was in his court and he was playing the game with no mercy. If she said yes, she was indebted to him, owing him a favor. And if she said no, the shame of her actions would not only reflect on her, but her family as well. 

“Tell me what you need,” an exasperated sigh she didn’t mean to let out, falling from her lips.

“Agree first.” Harry was a politician first, a prince second, and a human being last.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Do you believe I haven’t learned to never agree to something binding without knowing the stipulations first, Prince?”

“And do you think I would present my vulnerabilities to you without an answer first? I tell you, you don’t agree with the clause, and now you know what I need. Why should I do that?” His reasoning was valid to her, though she would never admit to it.

“Then my answer is no,” Y/N began turning on her heels to walk away; get as far away as she possibly could, but she stopped in her tracks when he caught up behind her, hooking his fingers around her waist and pressing his front against her back.

Incredibly cool and collected, he pressed his lips against her ears before he spoke, causing a chill to rip down her spine and a tightening coil in the pit of her stomach. “You’ve made your choice, then. Tonight in the dining hall, while we are in the middle of dinner with the most important people, I will stand and tell everyone of your fraudulent activities. In fact, I might even embellish it— explain how you’ve been keeping the stable boy so quiet with your mouth. Do you know what that means, princess? I will tell them how you’ve squandered his innocence, and when the shame is rising from here,” Harry’s fingers trailed from her hip to her stomach, and then all the way up to the apple of her cheeks, “To here… That is when I will twist the knife, and begin reading your finest letter aloud. And when you are crying, I will not stop.”

Y/N turned back around, stepping away from him to get distance before spitting out, “You are cruel, Harry. So, very, cruel.”

“You are flattering me,” he quirked an eyebrow, and she so badly wanted to connect her fist to that stupid smirk on his face.

“Fine,” Y/N nodded her head, refusing to give him any more leverage, “I will help you.”

“Great, then I will court you for the entire summer, and just before it is time for me to propose to you… You will come up with some excuse to break it off, and I will pretend I am utterly heartbroken and need time to heal.” 

Y/N was shocked his ruse was not nearly as bad as she had expected it to be. She thought maybe he would be requesting her to break into the general’s office and steal classified military documents, or something absolutely absurd and dangerous. But a courtship under false pretenses was… Dishonorable, but not a crime.

“That’s it?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Why?”

“Because,” he was beginning to feel frustrated, and Y/N could tell by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers. “I do not want to marry the Dutchess, and I fear if I do not place a ring on your finger, that is my destiny. However, if you end our courtship and I feign heartbreak, how could anyone tell me I need to marry when I lost the love of my life.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke the words.

“And—” Y/N began to ask another question before Harry interrupted her.

“That is all the information I will give you on the topic.”

“Fine,” she, herself, was done with the conversation anyway. There were much better things for her to do than scheme with Harry, “Now if you would leave me be, I would like some space from you.”

“Take what you need, because after dinner we will be attached at the hip once we announce our courtship.”

This might be the death of Y/N.

______________

Pretending to be under the weather was not going to cut it this evening, Y/N knew she couldn’t get out of another meal with her family, Harry’s, and the other important people that made it to the dining hall list without a stern talking to from Dorothea. 

On top of that, she knew that Harry was going to announce their courtship, and he probably wouldn’t be too keen on the idea of announcing it without her there. Actually, she wasn’t too keen on the idea, either. Who knows what he would say?

With thoughts racing through her head, and the click of her ballet flats on the mosaic tile, she made her way down the corridor until she was standing just outside of the tall oak doors. As soon as they opened, she would find her seat, and her fate for the summer would be sealed.

“Looking nervous, darling.” Harry spoke from behind her, creeping up on her for the third time since he’s been here. Rolling her eyes was beginning to become a natural reaction at this point. 

“Don’t call me that,” Y/N hissed out, barely taking her eyes from the door as he walked up behind her so he was nearly touching her backside as his fingers reached for the knob and turned it slowly. 

It was quiet when her eyes locked with her mother and father’s eyes, and when she slid her gaze over to Harry’s parents, she couldn’t help but feel shame that ticked in her lower stomach. It was one thing to be deceptive to her own parents; it was another to be deceptive to someone else’s. This was definitely something she was going to bring up to Harry later. 

Dorothea was sitting beside Y/N’s mother, and when she noticed her, Dorothea offered an approving smile and a small glance toward Harry’s direction. On multiple occasions, Dorothea had tried to convince Y/N that Harry was not that horrible as she knew him since he was a young boy, but Y/N would gawk and scoff and exclaim with exasperation: Why are you taking his side? Now, Dorothea had believed Harry finally charmed Y/N just enough to weasel his way into her heart, but little did Dorothea know, it was quite the opposite. 

Dinner was going by smoothly. Every now and again, Harry would make some small talk with Y/N, and as soon as the pair began speaking softly under their breath, the entire table would stop talking to hear what the two of them were conversing about. It was making Y/N rather anxious to have so much attention thrown in her general direction, but she supposed if she were in their shoes, she would be just as curious.

Before the meal came to a close, Harry tapped a shiny piece of silverware against his glass, gaining everyone’s attention. Though, Y/N wanted to tell him if he wanted all eyes on him, all he would have to do is look at her, whisper her name, and the chattering amongst the table would cease so everyone could hone in on their private conversation. “Everyone, I wanted to announce mine and precious Y/N’s courtships. After two long summers of denying our tension amongst one another, we decided it was in everyone’s best interest if we gave our compatibility a shot.”

A couple people clapped, and Y/N tried so hard to repress the eyeroll and the scoff that wanted to surface so badly. Dorothea shot a wink in her direction, so Y/N offered a small smile because a grimace would lead to questioning from her later, and lying to Dorothea was not something she felt too good about. Y/N had already deceived her once today by feigning illness, and twice with Harry’s speech of their courtship, but she did not want to have a separate conversation with Dorothea that contained the weight of her lies.

As soon as dinner ended, Y/N found herself rushing from the dining hall, nausea filling her gut as bile threatened to creep up her throat. In a few turns, she was down the corridor, and finally, she was on the terrace, breathing in the crisp night air. Stars illuminated the sky, the moon brightening the path she was walking down, and she should have known better to think she would get just one moment alone (or one moment where Harry was not creeping up behind her).

“Y/N, I want to talk,” Harry whispered, although the words may have been hushed, but they were on the louder side like a… Hushed shout?

“I’m not sure I would like to talk right now,” Y/N replied back, kicking scattered rocks out of the path they were taking that led to the gardens on the right side of the palace.

“I promise I will leave you alone for the night after this,” Harry sounded sincere, “I just want to work out the logistics with you.”

“The logistics with me?” Y/N scoffed, pivoting on her heels and throwing her hands up in exasperation. The tone of her voice was laced with venom, and the scrunch of her nose which led all the way up to her eyebrows, giving her the look of an angry kitten was enough to tell Harry she was quite upset with the ordeal, “You mean, you would like to speak of your deception?”

Harry visibly clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop Y/N from going on, “You want to speak of your deception and your dishonor?”

“I don’t think you have any right to speak about deception or dishonor, Y/N. You parade yourself as the perfect princess, and yet, you lie to your subjects. Do not lecture me on deception or dishonor,” Harry drew the boundary between them, a harsh red line that was clear and hard to miss. 

“Is blackmail honorable, Prince?” Y/N seethed.

“Is fucking the stable boy honorable, Princess?” Harry didn’t know if this was actually factual, it was only the assumption he made as to why the stable boy would lie for Y/N for so long.

Y/N stuttered over her words, “I-I’m not!”

“Maybe you’re not,” he looked her up and down, the sinister glare in his eyes making her want to recoil into herself, “But you want to.”

Y/N did not deny her attraction to the stable boy, though, she had never fantasized of him in such salacious ways, and that little flicker of emotion that ran across her features was something Harry picked up on immediately. 

“Would it break your little heart, Princess?” Harry took a step closer, the vein on his neck popping out as he clenched his jaw harder, “If I let your stable boy lay in my bed?”

Y/N gasped. She had never heard someone be so… Vulgar. 

The response she was looking for swam through her head but she couldn’t quite locate it as she filed through the crevices of her brain. How could she answer that? To her luck, Harry was on his heels and walking toward the direction of the stables so she didn’t have to respond to him. He muttered out the grumpiest, “I’ll find you later,” and Y/N’s heart sank as she realized Harry was trying to find Brad to either bed him, or tell Brad about her embarrassing little crush. Y/N had never felt so exposed in her own territory. 

______________

“This is never going to work, Niall!” Harry exclaimed, kicking off his riding boots and pacing his way back and forth in Niall’s personal cabin. Niall was the Prince’s Hand, his second in command, but he needed his space. When they would come for the summer, Niall would occupy the cottage on the outskirts of the palace, the only way to get there was by horseback, which is part of the reason he felt so comfortable being open with Niall. There was no possible way the princess would be strolling down the corridor and overhear him chatting with Niall when they were so far away, and the only way she could get there was by horseback, which he knew she wouldn’t do.

“What do you mean?” Niall looked over at him, pouring a glass of sparkling wine that was located on the bar top near the kitchenette. Harry noted that Niall was pouring two glasses, one for Harry and one for himself.

“She’s too stubborn.” Harry sighed out, taking the glass from Niall as he reached his hand out, then plummeted into one of the cushion filled chairs in the corner of the room. “She won’t be able to go through with it.”

“And you have leverage over her, do you not? I thought that was why you were so sure of your plan?” Niall pressed the frosted glass to his lips, then tipped his head back.

Harry followed suit, tipping his head back after pressing the cool glass to his lip. The slight carbonation of the alcohol, and the burn of the alcohol itself singed the back of his throat before he shook his head and shut his eyes tightly. “I do have leverage as I told you about. I fear if she backs out, I would never be able to put her through that, though.”

“It was my understanding that you didn’t care and you do not like her. If that is the case, then what is the issue, Prince?” Niall questioned.

“I do not care about her and I do not like her, but what would it say about me if I grasped that leverage and exposed her so openly like that…” Harry’s voice trailed off as he brought the glass back to his lips once more.

“So you do not care about her, and you do not like her, but you care about what others would think if you humiliated her so publicly?” Niall was beginning to understand.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.

Niall didn’t like giving Harry advice like this, but he was loyal to Harry first and always. When he began fitting the puzzle pieces together of the dynamic between Harry and Y/N, before he could even process his own thought process he blurted, “If you think she is too stubborn, then change that. Have you thought that maybe the reason she is so stubborn around you is because of the fact you are so mean to her. Stop being so cruel. Be a gentleman, make her like you. Hell, make her even love you, and at the end of the summer, if you still do not believe you are the type of man to marry, then begin corresponding with the Duchess again, forcing Y/N to break it off with you. You told her it was all a ruse, then so be it. However, that does not mean you have to make her life a living hell. You can charm her, make her fall for you, and when you invite the Duchess to the ball at the end of the summer, Y/N will have no other choice than to call it off.”

Harry paused, sitting upright in the chair rather than slouching over, “So you are saying to charm her still, even though she’s already agreed to the facade with me?”

“Precisely,” Niall pushed the guilty feeling down.

“And at the end of the summer when I want her to call it off, let her find me entangled with Duchess Violet?” Harry was the one asking questions now.

“Yes,” Niall let out a small breath.

“Smart man,” was all Harry said, and that was the end of the conversation as Harry slipped his boots on, bolted out the door, mounted his horse, and rode back to the main palace so he could talk to Y/N.

______________

Y/N was still in the garden, ruminating over the argument she just had with Harry. How could someone be so handsome, resembling a person who was probably carved by the most delicate angels themselves, have such a crude mouth and an evil demeanor? If Harry was a little bit nicer, she thinks he would be the easiest person to fall in love with.

“Y/N?” Harry whispered, and when she turned around to look at him, he noted the way the light from the moon reflected off the top of his curly brown hair, where it hit the highs of his cheekbones, and she noted the delicacy in his sea moss green eyes.

“I’m too exhausted to argue, Prince.” She remained grounded, her feet planted into the soil. Her cheeks were still wet from the tears spilled over after Harry left her feeling silly, and even though the streaks remained on her cheeks, there were no more droplets forming in her eyes.

He stepped closer, so close that his body was almost pressed against the front of hers. She noted the way his hand lingered by her hip, wanting badly to close the gap between them by positioning his hand behind her and pulling her close. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” She was strong, she was going to be tough.

“I feel terrible, Y/N,” the sincerity in his eyes was enough to send a ripple of shock through her. Honestly, the sincerity he felt was enough to send a ripple of shock through him. It was true, he did feel terrible. He never meant to make her cry.

“It’s fine,” Y/N said, beginning to turn away from him, but he caught her with his hand around her hip, then closed the gap between them so there was no space between the pair.

“It’s not,” he disagreed, “I… I want to be your friend, Y/N.”

“My friend?” She was so fucking confused.

“Yes,” he nodded his head, creeping his free hand under her chin and forcing her to look up and directly at him. “I do not want to be the only person benefiting from this deception.”

“Okay,” she didn’t know what else to say.

“Let me teach you how to feel comfortable on a horse again. I can give you lessons.” He decided showing her how to be confident atop a horse would be something she would benefit from. She wouldn’t have to feel confined to the palace anymore or lie to the people around her.

“So you can belittle me in our lessons?” Y/N asked, raising a brow at him.

“No, Y/N. No more of that, I can assure you.” He sounded so sincere, he was convincing himself. Maybe the truth was that arguing with her, getting under her skin, and picking her apart was exhausting and he didn’t like feeling like the worst version of himself around her. He was so confused. So confused. He hated this perfect princess exterior she put on, but he disliked being an asshole more.

“You really want to help me?” She could hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he dropped his hand from her chin and her hip, taking a step away from her, “Tomorrow morning, meet me at the stables.”

With that, he turned away and found his way back to his bedchambers. Harry really needed to decompress.

______________

The next morning, Harry found her in the stables. She had gotten there before him and was waiting by Freya’s stall. Brad wasn’t there quite yet. It was so early, the sun was just starting to poke through the horizon. 

Colors of red, pink, and gold reflected from his skin as he approached her, and Y/N noted that the colors peaking from the horizon were almost as beautiful as him. While the sun rise was beautiful, it was not nearly as beautiful as him.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, walking up to where she leaned against Freya’s stall.

“I’m ready,” she explained.

They had spent hours talking about how to form a bond with a horse, how to treat a horse, and where not to stand when around a horse. They talked about how to saddle a horse up, how to put the bit in a horse’s mouth without injuring yourself or the animal you need to be taking care of. Harry was actually a very good teacher. He wasn’t pushing her out of her comfort zone, he wasn’t belittling her for the things she was taught when she was younger but forgot how to maneuver. Harry even brought up what Brad had said about her having panic attacks when she was too close to horses, and told her that if she was feeling anxious to let him know, they could find a spot where she felt safe. Overall, working with him wasn’t too bad.

Y/N tried not to talk about the incident that made her so fearful of horses to begin with, and as much as Harry wanted to know why she was so afraid of them, he didn’t want to push and pry. He knew what it was like when people pushed their way into your personal space, and it was his biggest pet peeve, so he wasn’t going to subject her to something he hated deep in his bones.

Brad was surprised the first day when he came in, and saw Y/N, with shaky hands, petting on Freya. Freya seemed to enjoy it, and Harry stabilized her shaky arm as she reached in the window of the stall and pet her, whispering small encouragements in her ear. He was standing directly behind her, the front of his body pressed to her back as she reached in.

“Good girl,” Harry said, his fingers clutched around her elbow to combat the shakiness in her arm.

“She is a rather good girl,” Y/N said, touching the softness on Freya’s nose.

“No,” Harry laughed out, his fingers still gently holding her elbow steady, “I was talking about you. You’re being a very good girl.”

Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but chose to say nothing, and much to her good luck, Brad had finally showed up for the day, amazed at how Harry stood there with Y/N and held her from behind as she touched Freya.

“Wow,” Brad said, dropping some of the grain he was holding into the stall next to Freya’s, “You’re doing very well, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t think she could handle all the compliments, so she redirected the attention to Harry, “It’s all him. He's a great teacher.”

“I bet he is,” Brad shot a look toward Harry, a smirk forming on the edges of both their mouths. It made Y/N wonder if they actually had some sort of relationship like Harry hinted at the night he told her he was going to bed Brad in order to spite her. “I just hope you don’t have nightmares tonight.”

“Nightmares?” Harry’s grip around her elbow tightened, pulling her arm out of Freya’s stall and letting Y/N’s arm fall to her side. “What does he mean?”

Y/N turned around, and threw a scowl in Brad’s direction. Her back pressed against the stall door as she let a sheepish smile appear on her face when she turned all her attention toward Harry. “I used to have nightmares about the incident.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a hardline, a serious look glossed in his eyes. “If you start having nightmares again, tell me. Please.”

“I will.”

______________

Y/N didn’t know what to do about the dreams she was having regarding Harry. It seemed that every single night her dreams of Harry were becoming more and more graphic. The first night she dreamt of him was the first night he was in the palace, and she dreamt of what his lips felt like on hers. 

The second time she dreamt of him, she dreamt of the ways his hands felt around her body, and ever since then she had been having that same dream of him, over and over again. He would start by kissing her neck and touching her all over, calling her sweet names, and making her cry out in pleasure.

Every morning she woke up feeling debauched, and when she would meet Harry at the stables in the morning, she tried her best to not let the emotion flood her face. Sometimes she was scared that he could just look at her and know she was having inappropriate dreams about him.

A week had passed of her spending time with Harry. She learned about his favorite food, what he loved about his own kingdom, and even found out that the Marigold flower was native to his kingdom. 

“You kind of remind me of a Marigold.” Harry said softly.

“Why is that?” She looked over at him, as he began putting the bit on Freya. Y/N wasn’t ready to ride yet, but today she was going to walk Freya along the property with Harry to get used to her holding the lead rope in her hand.

“They’re bright and beautiful,” Harry buckled the bit, pulling the lead rope through as he spoke to Y/N, “A lot like you.”

“I think we’ve come a long way,” Y/N noted, grabbing the lead rope with shaky fingers when Harry handed it to her.

When Harry realized that her fingers were shaking and her eyes were nervously glancing around, he grabbed the lead rope back from her and began walking Freya out of the barn and toward a trail nearby, “I’ll walk her for now. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

They walked together, talking about the most random things and getting to know each other. Y/N couldn’t believe she didn’t like Harry at first. Fine, he was slightly annoying, and when she thought about how she was technically still being blackmailed it made her a little furious, but when he was being so pleasant and lovely, she tried not to think of those things. 

On top of all that, how could she say she still disliked him when she was dreaming of him every single night?

“Why don’t you try holding the lead rope as we walk, and I’ll hold your hand over it?” He suggested, coming to a stop in the middle of the trail. As much as he liked walking Freya, he did want Y/N to make some progress. 

“I think I can do that,” Y/N agreed, grabbing the rope in her hand and locking it securely between her fingers. Her hand wasn’t on the rope for even two seconds before Harry threw his hand around hers and gave her a look that she knew said I’m here for you. 

Her heart nearly skipped a beat as his hand enveloped hers and his eyes brought comfort to her hammering heart. For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined how his lips would taste— probably sickeningly sweet. She thought of the way he might moan against her, like he did in her dream. The vibrations flooding through her, feeling like pure ecstasy.

What the hell was she doing?

______________

Y/N thought back to the first night Harry had been to the palace. That night, she had a dream of Harry pressing his lips against hers. The more time she spent with Harry, the more she dreamt about him at night, and as the days passed, the more graphic they got. 

Today wasn’t the first time she had woken up with a puddle between her legs due to a steamy dream she had about Harry, though, it was the first time she had reached her climax in her sleep and she couldn’t help the shame that picked away inside her.

Quickly, she cleaned herself off and began putting on her riding clothes to meet Harry in the stables. 

______________

This morning, Y/N could barely look Harry in the eye, and he wondered why that was. They had been working together for a little over two weeks now, and she was growing much more comfortable with him each day. Actually, it was rather frustrating for him to find out that he somewhat enjoyed spending time with her. She was kind of funny, a little sweet, and overall, easy to teach. 

“Will you tell me why you can’t look at me today?” Harry grinned at her, and noted the way she dropped her gaze from his eyes back down to her hands, an emotion he couldn’t quite place lingering on her features. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled out, still refusing to meet his eyes. This might actually drive him crazy.

“Tell me, darling,” Harry reached for the water that was sitting atop Freya’s stall door, and began taking a few sips, his eyes still locked on Y/N, waiting for her to explain. Sooner or later, she would tell him. She was quite bad at keeping secrets.

“Did you actually take Brad to bed?” Y/N still didn’t look up at him.

Harry choked on his water; that was the last thing he expected Y/N to say to him. “Why do you think that?”

“You told me you were going to take him to bed the night you told me you wanted to be my friend,” Y/N recalled.

“I did say that,” Harry hummed out, placing the water back atop the door of the horse stall before moving toward her, “No, I did not take him to bed.”

“Do you want to… You know? Do you like him in that way?” Y/N was trying to avoid certain words, too shy to actually say what she was thinking, and the shyness in her tone was enough to make Harry’s knees almost buckle.

“I think he’s handsome, Y/N, but I would not hurt your feelings like that,” Harry explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“So you only like him, then? That is why you would not marry the Duchess?” Y/N had so many questions rifling through her mind, she didn’t know where to begin.

Realization dawned on Harry’s face, “I have a preference for both, Y/N. I do find men attractive, but I find women attractive too.”

“Oh okay,” Y/N nodded her head, “I’m sorry I was just thinking of that night and how maybe you and Brad—”

“That’s so naughty, Y/N.” He took a couple steps toward her, reminding her of the night he told her he would teach her how to ride. There was only a small gap between them, the front of his chest pressed to the front of her chest, but this time, there was a wooden wall behind her and if he only took one more small step, she would be pressed against the wooden wall in the barn and the front of Harry’s bodice. She was so depraved.

Harry’s voice was full of teasing, but Y/N was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she thought he was chastising her, “I’m sorry, Harry! Not like that!”

“Darling, I’m only teasing you,” Harry’s grin was contagious, Y/N couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her lips, “Now won’t you tell me a secret? I’ve given you one of mine.”

Y/N didn’t even think about it before blurting out, “I wish I knew what it was like to be kissed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his hand pressed against the wooden wall, trapping Y/N between his body and the wall (still offering her a way out from the position on his left). All he needed to do was bend down and connect his lips to hers and she would know what it’s like, but he would never do it without asking first. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“I would like that,” she breathed.

So, he would give her what she wanted. In the matter of seconds, his knee was positioned in between her legs, almost touching her center. His head had swooped down so his lips were just a few centimeters from her own, and his eyes were full of peer lust. Without much thought, he pressed his lips against her gentle ones, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, begging for her to open up for him and let him in. Though, Y/N didn’t understand the cue, and Harry understood that since this is her first time being kissed, she wouldn’t know the trick of sliding your tongue against someone’s bottom lip and what that was asking for.

Gently, he brought his lips to her chin and pulled down ever so slightly, parting her lips and allowing access to her mouth. It was the most pleasant noise he had ever heard, the moan that vibrated into his mouth and warmed his muscles. The blood was flowing to his cheeks, his heart rate quickening and pumping the blood through his body, and straight to his cock. Honestly, if they didn’t stop kissing, he might actually come in his pants, so he pulled away, leaving her breathless and hot.

“How was that?” He asked.

“I think I liked it a lot,” she panted out, pressing her legs together and Harry knew the signs of that all too well, but decided not to comment on it.

“We can do it again sometime.” He shrugged, removing his hand from the wall and taking a few steps back.

“O-okay.” She muttered.

Y/N was feeling things she had never known were possible.

______________

Harry’s lips were pressed against her neck, his hands wandering to the waistband of her underwear before looping his fingers around the elastic and pulling them down her legs. Before she even had time to process what was going on, he was gently laying her against the bed, but they weren’t in her room… No, she didn’t know where they were, and for a moment she was dissecting the bedchamber and all its decor until Harry’s thumb found its way to her clit and one of his fingers sunk into her, rubbing against the button that had her back arching off of the bed.

“Oh,” she gasped out, her breathing becoming erratic with each stroke. “Please, Harry. Please…”

In this scenario, she didn’t feel ashamed for calling out his name, for begging for his fingers. Harry had positioned himself so that he was on top of her, one hand holding him up so that he good get a good look at her face (in this scenario, he liked to watch the way her nose scrunched when she hit her climax) while his hand worked her clit and flicked against her g-spot. 

“Don’t worry, darling girl,” he leaned down, his lips pressed against her lips as he spoke, “I’m going to get you there.”

She couldn’t help it, she needed him so badly. When he pulled his fingers out and inserted another, expanding the space inside her, she arched her back off the bed and bucked her hips into his hand begging for more friction than he was supplying her with.

“Don’t be greedy, love.” He found a different position so he could use one hand to pin her hips to the bed, and the other one to tease her with his fingers. “You need help orgasming, darling?”

“Harry, I need help!”

“Y/N!” Harry shook her shoulders, causing her whole body to shake as her eyes opened to reveal a panicked Harry peering down at her.

It took a moment for her to understand what was going on, but when she looked at her surroundings which were dimly lit by candles, Y/N realized that she was in her bedchamber, and no longer in the bedchamber in her dream, and Harry had pulled the chair sitting in the corner of her room to the side of her bed.

A dream. It was just another dream. And it took a moment before she realized that Harry was here, waking her from her dream frantically.

“Harry,” she breathed out, and though he heard the breathiness in her tone as a sigh of relief, for Y/N she was coming down from the orgasm she just had in her sleep. In front of Harry. “What are you doing here?”

“Baby, you were having a nightmare. You’ve been screaming my name,” he tucked a strand of hair that was coated in sweat behind her ear, and she noted the softness in his voice, a guilty feeling ripping through her.

Actually, his voice wasn’t the only thing soft about him. Harry was still sporting sleepwear, white linen pajama pants and a matching button top. His curls which were normally assorted and crisp looking flopped against his forehead, and she couldn’t help but notice the way he stroked his thumb against her head whispering sweet nicknames he had never called her before, but what she really couldn’t stand was the guilt and worry flooding those cloverfield eyes of his.

“I—” she went to explain that she wasn’t having a nightmare, but before she had a chance to get the words out, he was telling her what happened.

“They came and got me. Dorothea told me this is the fifth consecutive night you’ve been screaming my name, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me the lessons weren’t working, and they were putting you in such a bad place. I didn’t want this for you, baby,” Harry continued to stroke his thumb against her head, this time lowering his hand so that his thumb was stroking along her lips which wasn’t helping the sticky wetness pooling in her panties and the ache in her lower belly.

Y/N, filled with shame at the guilt in his eyes and the crude dreams she’s been having, tried to find her voice, “Wasn’t having a nightmare.”

“What do you mean, darling? You were screaming my name, asking for help?” 

In response, Y/N only pulled the edge of her blanket closer to her chest, tucking herself away from him.

It took Harry only two seconds to understand, “Oh?”

“Sorry,” she muttered, dropping her head and inching away from the touch of his fingers.

“No!” He exclaimed, hooking his fingers around her arm as she tried to scoot to the other side of the bed, “Don’t be sorry. There is no need for that, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, so she nodded and expected him to get up and leave her to her own devices.

Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I just didn’t take you for a beggar, darling girl.”

It could have been the nickname, the same one dream Harry had given her as he brought her to her climax or the fact that he was calling her a beggar but she couldn’t help the heat that flooded through her cheeks as she averted her gaze from his, “Stop!”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, and Y/N noted the way his fingers that were once tracing circled over her cheeks and then rubbing against her lips were now touching and grasping at her arm, like he had to be in constant contact with her. “You should never be embarrassed of what your body naturally desires.”

“Easy for you to say,” she scooted closer to him, back to where she was before she began inching away, “You’ve never been embarrassed.”

“I have. The first time I ever let someone touch me, I reached my orgasm in my trousers,” he began, offering her a questioning glance to ask if this is okay? When she nodded, letting him know he could climb into her bed, probably against her better judgment, he stood from the chair and put his knee on the bed. Before she knew it, he was putting his knee over her, straddling her momentarily, then found his way to the other side of her bed, so that they were laying side-by-side. Y/N couldn’t help the way heat filled her cheeks, tearing at the tiny tendrils of muscle throughout her body and igniting a fire from deep within her abdomen. How could she think straight when she was dripping with need, her body begging for some sort of release. 

Harry continued what he was saying once he was in a comfortable position next to her, but Y/N had trouble listening to his words when the only thing she could focus on was regulating her breaths, “That was pretty embarrassing. The second time I was embarrassed was the first time I met you, and you were standing there looking so beautiful and perfect, I tripped over my words. The third time I felt embarrassed was when I read your letter in the office and you expressed that my actions were not that of a gentleman, and you were right.”

She didn’t know what to say, only that she was burning with desire and needed him as close to her as possible. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“You’ve got me all soft tonight. I was under the impression you were having nightmares because you were too nervous to tell me you didn’t want to continue with lessons. I am cruel, Y/N, you have always been right about that, but I am not a monster,” his words were honest and true, something he would probably regret tomorrow, “Believe it or not, I never wanted to give you nightmares.”

“You haven’t given me nightmares,” Y/N was used to feeling shame around Harry, even though she could cover it quickly by hurling a snarky comment toward him.

“You have no idea how relieved I was to hear that your dreams about me are nothing but good… I would like to rectify the situation for you.”

“Rectify the situation?” Y/N was beginning to feel even more confused than when she woke up in her bedchamber with Harry’s fingers wrapped around her shoulder, waking her from her vivid dream.

“Yes,” he breathed, turning his body so he was laying directly parallel to her, “Would you like me to take care of you?”

“I… I would like that,” her fingers held the quilt tighter to her chest, not quite sure if this was going to be a mean joke to toy with her and then laugh about it later.

“Do you trust me?” His eyebrow raised, knowing her answer without her even needing to speak the words.

“Not… particularly,” her breathing was becoming more rapid as the conversation took such a sultry turn.

“If you don’t trust me, I can’t make you feel good, darling.” He tried to reason with her, and as much as he wanted to run his hands over her sides and touch her all over, he knew he couldn’t do that. Not while he was trying to gain her trust.

“I’ve never done this before,” she said quietly, barely audible.

“I know,” he agreed, “We are going to take it slow. You are safe with me.”

And Y/N didn’t know if it was the look in eyes, or if it was because of the fact he rushed to her bedchamber when someone woke him up from his peaceful slumber to come comfort her from her “bad dream,” but in this moment, she really felt as though she could trust him. On top of that, he knew her biggest fear, and never let her feel uncomfortable when he was teaching her how to ride, so why shouldn’t she trust him?

“I feel safe,” she told him and expressed her limits, “I trust you. No mean words, Harry.”

“No, baby, only praise for how well you’re doing.” 

Those three little words, the innocence in her eyes, and the way she clung to her blanket for a security measure could have sent Harry into a downward spiral. He tried to compose himself, tried to contain himself, because he knew he had to take it slow with her. He propped himself up so that he could loop his hands around where she clutched her blanket so tightly. “Have to relax, darling.”

She took in a few deep breaths, just how he taught her when she was trying something new, and her body released the tension as she made eye contact with him. Something about Harry was so contradictory. How could he make her feel so guarded and upset, but also make her feel so safe in her most vulnerable moments. As her grip loosened from the blanket, he asked if it was okay for him to remove it, to expose her body only dressed in her white nightgown. When she murmured a small yes, he peeled the blanket from her body. Cool air encompassed her, and she hadn’t realized just how hot she’d been under the blanket.

Y/N used her elbows to prop herself up, leaning back against the pillows, giving herself a full view as she sat up right, and Harry took this moment to lean back, so his upper body was still parallel to hers, but he still had enough room to use his fingers to work her to the brink of her orgasm. Fortunately for her, he was reading the situation thoroughly, checking for the signs that she wasn’t ready and verbally communicating with her to make sure she was feeling okay.

“How are you feeling, love?” Small touches is what he started with, using the arm that he wasn’t propped up on to trace heart shapes (though, Y/N couldn’t tell what shape he was making) with his forefinger around the bare skin of her hip.

“Feeling good,” her words were breathy, making his cock twitch in his pants, “I’m ready for you.”

Harry let out a small chuckle, his eyes glancing between both of her eyes as he spoke, “We’re going to take it very slow. I’m gonna teach you about pleasure, darling, with my fingers. How does that sound?”

“With your fingers?” She hated how demure it sounded, how underprepared and unknowledgeable the words sounded coming from her.

“Yes. With my fingers first,” he trailed his fingers from her hip, to her lower abdomen until he was over the cotton of her panties, feeling the wetness seep through, “You’re so wet, it feels like you’ve already reached your pinnacle. Did you?”

Sheepishly, she nodded. Though she may not know what it felt like when she was awake, she knew the signs when she woke up from a dream about him. Typically, she was as wet as she is now, a sticky feeling between her legs. “In my sleep.”

“Christ,” he breathed, pulling her panties to the side, but not taking them completely off in an effort to make her not feel so exposed. First, he used his thumb to touch her clit, using small circular motions at a very steady pace. When her breathing picked up once more, and small guttural moans fell from her lips in encouragement for him, he picked up the pace. Harry couldn’t help it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Slowly, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against her own as he continued to rub in circular motions. Her back arched from the bed, his lips still on hers as he swallowed the noises she was making against him, and her mind was spinning with absolute desire. Pure bliss is what she felt, her flesh hot with each touch as he continued to work her most sensitive spot while his lips moved against hers. She didn’t know she could feel this… Good. In her dreams she was a sweaty, whiny, mess, but in this experience. In this very, very real experience, she couldn’t hold back the whines or the way her back kept arching into his touch. It was a complete parallel to the way she felt in her dreams, the way dream Harry took care of her and the way real Harry was taking care of her now was so similar.

____

Harry’s mind was a whirlwind of emotion; he loved the way he was making her come undone beneath his fingers. While his thumb worked her clit, he slipped his middle finger in, the cool gold of his rings making her gasp against his mouth, and he took this moment to slick his tongue over her bottom lip and find his way into her mouth. Her mouth was warm, tasting of sweet fruit and honey… She was everything he could ever desire, and he hated the way he crumpled beneath her. She made him feel so out of control, but in this very moment, he had all the power. For a second, he removed his lips, staring down at her with her eyes shut. Her ribcage flared with each breath, her chest heaved as small whimpers tumbled from her lips with his name somewhere in the mix.

As soon as he found that spot inside of her, the spot he knew could make a woman buckle at the knees, she was finding her release and rocking against her hand. Normally, he would tell his partner to stop riding his hand to control the situation, to make them so pent up with frustration and desire that they could barely stand it. He loved to see tears form in his partner's eyes due to overstimulation and pure desire, but this time around, he just wanted her to feel good and comfortable as she reached her climax. This was a vulnerable moment for her, and he didn’t want her to remember it by looking back and thinking about how he wouldn’t let her cum… No, she was being such a good girl for him, rocking against him with such a politeness as she whimpered small pleases and thank you’s that he didn’t want to reprimand her for feeling what she was feeling. In fact, he decided she needed a good reminder.

“You’re being such a good girl, Y/N. So good for me,” as soon as those words filled her ears, her walls began pulsing around his fingers and he knew she was about to reach the brink of the universe, so he continued to encourage her, “Let it out, baby.”

“T-thank you,” she said, clutching the sheets in her hands as her back arched from the bed, and she clenched once more around his fingers, drenching his hand, his wrist, and the end of his pajama sleeves. 

“So polite, darling,” Harry noted as her hips thrusted up once more, riding out her orgasm on his hand. Once she was completely fucked out against his hand, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she tried to maintain eye contact with him, and when Harry brough his hands coated in her arousal to his mouth and licked them clean, another wave of arousal shot down her spine.

“Is it your turn?” She asked him, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“Not tonight, darling,” his hands found their way to the quilt, covering her up with the blanket so she wouldn’t get cold after she fell asleep. Normally, he would clean his partner up before allowing them to get cozy in bed, but the thought of making her get out of bed and wash up felt too evil as she could barely keep her eyes open.

“When?” She muttered, eyes still closed, “I want to.”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, Y/N.” He lifted himself off the bed, and she mumbled a small okay as he walked out of the room.

Harry was so fucked.

[asterias-record-shop]

LISTEN, OKAY FOR BINGO, IMAGINE DAVE LIZEWSKI WITH THE GLORY HOLE BINGO AND THE 25TH PROMPT

—𓆩[i love cherries]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - College AU! Frat Boy! Dave Lizewski x Fem! Sex Worker! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.4K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Dave wasn’t sure how he got into a fraternity, especially not one of the biggest at the university, but he went along with it. What he wasn’t prepared for was initiation, where everyone found out he was a virgin and were determined to make his first time something special.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || more mature themes || college setting || OC frat boy characters with the addition of Todd || not really kick-ass set but like he could still have powers I don’t really get into detail with that || Dave is so innocent but like not-? || he isn’t a fuck boy just a frat boy || bitchy! reader || you’re a masters student now || you also have a distinct mark on your thigh || maybe kinda BJ Alex inspired slightly? Just the differentiating mark || age difference, three years (Dave - 20, you - 23) || smut || glory hole || public sex || private hole in the wall if that makes sense? || the frat guys like reserve you for the night if that makes sense || still public though, abandoned park in the woods || virginity loss (Dave) || oral || multiple orgasms || squirting || multiple rounds || unprotected sex || degradation and praise || derogatory terms used ||

Dave really liked college so far. He was pulled into a frat somehow, probably after he got this new ripped body and got dragged into sports by Todd. It made him think that Todd was the one living vicariously through him, but that didn’t really matter to Dave much.

To be honest, he was excited. He had finally gotten the attention of girls, something he had always wanted, just not from the girl he wanted it to be from. You, a girl he met in his advanced class where he was stuck with students pursuing masters while he was barely walking into college, never gave him the time of day. You were beautiful, so fucking beautiful, and it truly did surprise him when he learned you weren’t in a sorority. He wanted to be a cute couple, a frat boy and a sorority girl, but it was okay. Dave wanted to date you either way, really date you.

No one understood why though, especially Dave himself. He knew some of the older frat guys had tried to sleep with you, and from what he heard, you always turned them down. It was a mystery why he had a massive crush on you, probably because he had major issues to be attracted to a girl who was a real bitch to quite literally everyone. A lot of people thought you were a bitch, but maybe that’s what happened when you didn’t lie.

You kept secrets, yes, but you never lied.

Dave loved sitting next to you in the class he was stuck in, some course he hated but only stayed in because it boosted his GPA and he got to sit next to you. It was an early class, so while everyone else was asleep, you were awake and looking absolutely perfect. You wore skirts often, always had your makeup done, and always smelled so good. Dave didn’t know how you got up and did all of this, he truly did applaud you for it knowing damn well he had a fucked up sleep schedule and always fell asleep for a minute in class.

He laid his head down on the desk, behind his laptop as he turned his head to watch you, your outfit today black. Your skirt was a dark black with a line of white on the hem, knee high black boots and a sweater protecting you from the slight chilliness outside. For fucks sake, you were fucking beautiful. The thing that made your look though, something that you never failed to have in class was a lollipop.

It was bright red as you twirled it in your mouth, another already ready to go when you finished the one in your mouth, cherry flavored and staining your lips and tongue. Your perfume corresponded to the lollipop flavor, strong and tangy, fruity but spicy and absolutely filling his mind with thoughts.

He liked the fact you stuck with cherry - did your room smell like cherries too? What about your chapstick, was it cherry too? What else did you have that was cherry based?

And as you crossed your legs, fixing your skirt so it didn’t ride up, he saw it. Oh, he had to hold back a moan at the cherry tattoo on your thigh, red and comical and just perfect.

He watched as you shifted again, eyes about to flash to him before he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep making you scoff. He kept his eyes closed, not risking you seeing that he was absolutely ogling you, and resulted in himself falling actually asleep.

“Hey,” a voice says, strong and confident but perfectly sweet as someone shakes his shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Dave groaned lowly, peeking out from the safety of his arms and almost falling out of his chair when he saw you.

You jumped, gasping as Dave moved frantically. “Dude, I was just trying to tell you that class is over and you can go sleep at home. For fucks sake, it was like you were waking up from a nightmare, are you okay?”

He nodded, swallowing loudly. “N-No, I’m okay. Sorry.”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Don’t be sorry, there’s no point. I was just waking you up. Anyways, you better get studying, we have a midterm next week.”

Dave nodded slightly, swallowing as he grabbed his laptop and started packing as you tried to push in your chair, struggling when it got caught in Dave’s. “G-Give me a minute, I’ll get up and I’ll fix it. Thank you for waking me up.”

You smiled slightly, nodding. “Thank you. Here,” you paused, grabbing a sticky note pack from your backpack side pocket and a pen. “My number. Call me if you need the notes from class, I can give them to you.”

Dave paused, shaking his head. “That’s not fair. I don’t have anything to give you in return, I sleep through class like every day. I don’t mean to, but it’s just so fucking boring.”

His words make you giggle as you start walking away, pausing with a slight turn. “You coming?”

Dave rushed to follow after you, watching as you started to giggle again. “Seriously though, is there anything I can give you, or?”

You hummed, thinking as you walked, your steps making a perfect line as though you were taking a sobriety test and your hips swaying. Oh, you walked like a runway model, truly just perfect. “You can buy me breakfast. Daily.”

Dave smiled, nodding. “Whatever you say…” he left the spot open for your name as you laughed.

“Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you,” you stopped, offering your hand. “This is my class. You have my number, call me, okay?”

Dave smiled and took your hand, shaking firmly as you giggled and walked into your next class, Dave standing there and staring for a little before someone slapped his back. “Hey, newbie! Ready for your initiation tonight?”

He recognized Landon’s voice, turning slightly with a shrug. “Yeah, I think so. What do you guys even do, anyways?”

He laughed. “You won’t know until you get there! To be honest, it’s nothing bad, you chose the right frat man. Just a chant and some swearing or whatever, besides, you’re already bonded with us. Tomorrow, we’ll have a party and you’ll get laid by some of the hottest girls on campus! Who knows, maybe more than one. Heard Heather got her eye on you.”

Dave’s nose scrunches at the thought of sleeping with someone other than you. You had some sort of effect on him these past few weeks, and to be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what you did to him and why he was like this, but it wasn’t something he was complaining about. “I’m not really… interested in her.”

Landon paused, raising a brow. “You’re not interested in Heather?”

“No,” he shook his head, looking back at the room you went into. “Not at all.”

Landon paused. “Oh. Oh! You’re into Y/N! You like older women, don’t ya?”

Dave blushed, sighing. “I just… I don’t know what it is about her man.”

He laughed. “Nah, there ain’t nothing ‘bout her man, she’s just fucking hot man. Beautiful, she smells so fucking good, for fucks sake. Everyone loves her at the frat, man… she’s like a little rough around the edges, but she warms up quick.”

Dave hummed. Everyone loved you?

“She never slept with any of us, though,” he quickly filled in, shrugging. “She has a strict rule about sleeping with people. Don’t know what it is, but if the boys listen to anything, it’s a woman. We know consent. Anyways, I have to talk to you real quick.”

“Okay.”

“So Todd was joking around that you were a virgin?” Landon laughs. “Oh my goodness, you have to get back at him-”

“Oh, he wasn’t joking,” Dave filled in. “I'm a virgin.”

Landon paused. “Oh no. No, never in the history of this house had anyone who was a virgin join this house. You know what,” he paused, taking out his phone. “Don’t lose your virginity. Initiation is moved to tomorrow, we’ll make something special.”

It wasn’t until Dave was dragged to the middle of the woods - blindfolded because of course that wasn’t a horrible idea - did he regret wanting to join a frat. Who needed to be in a frat?

They finally made him stop, giving him a firm slap to his back. “We’re here!”

“Where is here?”

“Oh,” Landon laughed as he took off the blindfold, putting out his hands. “Ta da!”

Dave blinked slightly, shaking his head as he looked around. It was a park, one of those with that climbing wall with holes, pausing when he saw a pair of legs out of one of them. “This is Glory Park. Anytime our frat needs a glory hole, this is where we come. It’s like… a monthly thing, mainly before big tests and what not. We always get one girl, her name’s Cherry, she’s always got the sweetest cunt. And, she has no limits, so we can get a little rough with her. Nothing too extreme, though, we respect her. But tonight,” he sighed dramatically. “Tonight is Cherry’s last night doing this kind of work, and she’s all yours. She’s already stretched out and everything”

Dave gulped as he stared at the legs covered by a pretty skirt, swallowing. “I-I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

Landon paused, tilting his head. “Why?”

He sputtered, shaking his head as he looked at the form. “B-Because she’s like not even looking at me!”

Oh, but then he paused. He saw that same cherry tattoo you had on your thigh, mouth going dry. “Wh-What was her name again?”

Landon grinned. “Cherry. You like cherries, Dave?”

He nodded automatically, head bobbing. “I love cherries.”

Landon laughed, walking toward him with a slap on his back. “The remote to open the hole is over there if she gets uncomfortable. You can’t keep going if she gets uncomfortable, she has an emergency button on her side, and a guard close by too. The hole will automatically open as soon as the sun rises, so you got all night. Besides, you got a couple of stacks right on the ground for her. She charges extra for kinks and shit.”

Dave smiled, nodding slightly as Landon patted his back. “Have fun.”

“W-Wait,” Dave said, turning to Landon. “Y’know we’re in public, right?”

Landon laughed, shaking his head. “You got all the privacy in the world here, man. Go get her.”

He slowly walked over, staring at the high six-inch heels on your feet and the high waisted skirt on your lower tummy. He could see the slight sliver of your skin, his palms slowly circling the sides of your thighs before settling on the cherry tattoo on the side of your thigh. “I-I uhm… I’m Dave.”

He could hear you giggle, his hands trailing over the plush skin of your thighs as he lifted up your skirt. “Y-You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his hands slowly trailing over your panties. Oh, he had to make you wet before fucking you, even if you were already stretched. “C-Can you talk?”

He watched as you pushed your hands through the hole, clenching your fingers in a way to ask for money. Dave nodded quickly, inhaling deeply. “Y-Yeah, right.”

Dave reached down, grabbing the stack of hundreds and fifties. “H-How much?”

You raise two fingers, Dave grabbing two hundred and slipping it into your hand. “Th-That lasts for the whole time? You talking?”

“It was supposed to be twenty,” you giggled, pushing our hand through. “Not two hundred.”

“Just keep it,” Dave said, shaking his head. “You’ll keep talking, right?”

He heard you hum. “Yes, I will. I’m sorry, normally they don’t ask me to talk… I’ve never really thought about someone wanting me to talk, and normally girls like me… don’t talk while this happens.”

“I want you to,” Dave whispered, slowly lifting up your skirt and pulling down your pretty black satin panties, a gasp leaving your mouth as the cold air brushed against your cunt, the sound of him dropping to his knees making you shiver. “I want to hear every single noise you make. I-Is this okay? I can do this, right? I want to hear you say yes, I need your permission.”

Your eyes rolled back, nodding. “Y-Yes, you can, you can. I need you.”

You tilted your head back, the platform supporting your back cold but soft doing nothing for the growing heat in your stomach as you bucked your hips. You had never done anything like this before with someone like Dave, someone you actually really like. “D-Dave,” you whisper, gasping as his tongue slowly trailed over the slit of your cunt. You didn’t even realize that you said his name until his mouth softly latched against your clit, lips puckering and kissing against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “O-Oh, my fuck.”

Dave hummed as he lets his spit gather on your clit, watching it dribble down your slit before licking his saliva flat onto your perfectly pretty cunt. “How’d you know my name?”

His voice made your eyes widen, a loud moan falling from your lips as his tongue flicked against your clit and his fingers slid into you. He could tell you were stretched so that it didn’t hurt you, but it was pleasure filled and perfect as you moaned loudly, unable to even answer his question before you started to ride against his fingers. “Come on darling, you can tell me… come on, come on.”

He was egging you on, every flick of his tongue making a shock spark up your spine, eyes rolling back as his fingers slowly curled inside of you and bumped right against that perfect spot that had your legs hooking around his head and pulling him closer. The loud groan that fell from his lips made your hips buck into his mouth, his tongue easily sliding down your cunt and focusing where his fingers were knuckle deep. You could hear the wet, lewd sounds filling the silence of the woods, echoing as your fingers attempted to dig into the plastic.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty and so fucking sweet,” he whispered, loud slurping noise making you gasp as he continued to work his fingers into you to pull another orgasm out of you. The slight mustache he developed over the year scratching against your sensitive cunt making a loud groan fall from your lips. “You have another one for me, right? Come on, give me some more.”

Your eyes rolled back, oh when his voice was like that, high pitched and slightly whiny as he begged for another was something you loved, but this was different. His voice was smooth and strong, egging you on with every roll of his fingers and pop of his mouth against your cunt, every slight scratch of his mustache, a groan falling from your lips again as you started to roll into his fingers.

“Your name’s Cherry?” He says, a smirk evident on his lips as he felt your heels settle on his back. “Right?”

You whimper out a yes, gasping as the tip of his tongue pushed inside of you with his fingers, your toes curling in your heels as they dig into his shirt. Oh, you wanted to see him, to watch him go down on you over and over again. “A-Are you sure you’re a virgin?”

He laughed, pulling his tongue out to spit into your already soaked cunt. “Are my skills mind blowing? Orgasm causing?”

You laughed. “No, nevermind. You talk like a virgin.”

He laughed as he curled his fingers, an action making you gasp as your stomach tightened and you came again, the orgasm shocking as your vision blurred - eyes crossing as your thighs tightened around his head, letting out another strangled moan. Dave laughed, pushing his fingers almost impossibly deeper inside of you, his other hand going to your clit.

“A virgin that’s making a whore like you cum over and over again. How many times do you think I can make you cum in the next ten minutes? Do you want to find out, hm? Or do you want me to fuck you like a whore?” He laughed as his hand started rubbing hard, rough circles as his mouth moved to suck and spit into your cunt. “Answer me.”

“J-Just do what you want!” You never really had a choice in moments like these, but the thought of him asking made you want to see him even more.

“I want to do what you want me to do, Y/N.”

Oh you couldn’t hold back the scream that fell from your mouth, eyes rolling back as your stomach starts to clench, gasping as his hand gets rougher. You knew what he was trying to do, he was trying to force you to squirt. The thought made your stomach twist, pleasure filling your entire body – he was the only person who focused on your pleasure quite literally in all of your sex life, especially like this.

“Almost there, baby, I know you are… you know I’ll take care of you, Y/N, come on!” He continued to egg you on, a gasp falling from your lips as you screamed out, eyes rolling back as your stomach clenched, the feeling of it unclenching making you sigh in relief before moaning loudly as he curled his fingers inside of you and a laugh fell from his lips. Your legs go limp around his shoulder, his tongue licking at your clit before he stands up. “Felt good, honey? Are you ready?”

You inhaled shakily, struggling to keep your eyes open. You had felt better in these past ten minutes than any of the hours you had spent with any other man. “How’d you know?”

Dave paused, sighing softly. “I-I saw your tattoo… earlier today. I-I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do this for so long, but I needed your permission, a-and it’s worse because I can’t even see you.”

You hummed, moving your leg to press against his abdomen. “You’re talking like a virgin again, Dave.”

He laughed as he held your legs, letting your heels fall against his shoulders as he kissed your ankle firmly. “Well, I am. I-I… don’t know what it is about you, I want… I want to do so much with you, and not just sex. P-Please… is there a way I can see you? If you even want to see me?”

Your hand immediately moved to your emergency button that opened the hole, quickly pushing the top off and sitting up. “My phone is in the bag hidden in the hole of that tree. The emergency button pings my guard, I need to tell him nothing is wrong.”

Dave rushed over, grabbing your bag as you kicked off the panties that were stuck on your heel. Running back over, the curly haired man gave you your bag as you grabbed your phone, quickly calling Lionel your guard. “Lionel, nothing is wrong. I just… wanted to see his face.”

Lionel started panting, cursing. “You scared me. So it was him, right? The pretty boy you got a crush on?”

“Good bye, Lionel!” You hung up as Dave laughed, kissing softly against your neck as you set down your phone.

“You have a crush on me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you respond, gasping as his hands push your legs apart and he starts to unzip your pants. “D-David-”

“If you don’t want me to do this, tell me now,” he whispers, pulling away to give you a slight smile. “If I do anything you’re not comfortable with, tell me-”

“Cherry,” you whisper, smiling as you push your hands to the back of his neck. “Our safeword will forever be cherry.”

“Whatever you say,” he whispers back, smiling as he leaned down for another soft kiss. “Is there anything you know you don’t like? Anything you want me to do?”

“I don’t let people cum inside,” you whisper, but start to lay back before lifting your legs to settle over his shoulders, his hands immediately going down to hold your thighs and support you. “But I want you to.”

He inhaled sharply as you lifted up your upper body just to take off your shirt, humming as you tilted your head. “You want my bra off too?”

“Y-Yes.”

You giggled, lifting yourself up once again to take off your bra as he swallowed. “You’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

He laughed. “N-Not in real life.”

You giggle as he slowly starts to pump his cock, hissing as you push your hand to slowly wrap your manicured hand on his shaft. “You want me to do it?”

He nodded, sighing in pleasure as you started to pump him. “Y-Yes please.”

You sit up a bit, the angle slightly uncomfortable as you pull his cock into you, eyes rolling back. Dave’s cock wasn’t what you expected, the perfect middle ground between lengthy and girthy. You moaned loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as he rolled his hips. “D-David-”

“I want… I want to finish it, can I please?” He whispered, the egging in his voice no longer there, his tone now high pitched and whiny. “Please?”

“Yes, finish,” you whispered, going back to laying on the platform as he held your thighs more securely now, pulling you closer as he thrusted his hips forward, roughly this time. You were still sensitive from your three orgasms, your legs twitching as you put your arms behind your head, the cold feeling of the air against your nipples only stimulating your already pleasure filled body more. “Fuck, fuck David.”

He merely grunts softly, letting out a loud groan as his thrusts started to get more composed, hard but perfect in a way you couldn’t describe. You felt your toes curling once again, every thrust making your body bounce as his cock rammed in and out of you. You could feel your stomach twisting and clenching, easily being pushed to the edge all over again after your first three orgasms again.

You could feel your stomach burning, every thrust he did making the bulging veins of his cock rub against your walls, his pelvis slapping into your clit somehow heightening the experience. “Look at me, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, groaning as he slammed his hips forward. “I know you’re about to cum, baby, don’t look away from me. I want to see it, I want to see you get pushed over that edge.”

His hand firmly settled on the tattoo on the side of your thigh, a loud groan of his name making him let out a strangled moan. The sounds leaving his mouth were like those you had never heard, animalistic and obsessed, his eyes dark as he stared down at you. He looked so perfect in the halo of moonlight surrounding him, staring down at you like you were the only thing he could think of – which was true, you were the only thing on his mind.

He was thinking about everything he was feeling, your tight cunt clamped down on his cock, your hands gripping his wrists in a way that he loved, your pretty eyes never looking away from his. Your perfect lips he hadn’t even been able to kiss all day.

He moved your legs to wrap around his waist, leaning down to brush his lips softly against yours, his hips never stopping their rhythmic thrusts that made moans fall from your lips with every movement. “I want to kiss you… can I kiss you?”

You nodded frantically, desperate. It was a horrible feeling that you couldn’t describe, the desperateness that was settling in your tummy to have him, all of him. His lips pressing to yours firmly, his perfect soft lips against yours tipping you over the edge as your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist and pulled him balls deep inside of you. He choked against your lips, your hips automatically starting to roll into his. Dave let out an almost whine like noise, hips rutting unconsciously, harder into you as he groaned.

You could feel him cum inside of you, hot and sticky but filling, every thrust he made pushing his cum deeper inside of you, your hands cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. “Dave, I don’t… I don’t know why, but you are literally the man I’ve felt the most at ease with… in my whole life,” you whisper, gasping as he rutted his hips unconsciously. “David!”

“I-I’m sorry!” He says, shaking his head. “I-I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You have to take me out on a date. You have to.”

“I-I will,” he whispered, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I will take you on so many dates and I’ll make you feel better than anyone else. Physically… and emotionally.”

You smiled. “I guess it’s good that you love cherries.”

He laughed. “I fucking love cherries. Especially if they’re on you.”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪 𓆩[@theonetheonly-mee]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪   𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[peachesofteal]

i am running around in CIRCLES for the baby trap au. how does darling treat them after she figures it out??? i’m SO IN LOVE WITH THIS

I am running in circles for YOU, Keri, because I love you so! 🩵🩵🩵

Quick note: Every ask is like a fresh AU unless there’s a link. I posted one recently that had Simon basically tranquilizing Darling, that doesn't happen here. It's fun to explore every avenue for the baby trap au, and that's what I'll be doing with these asks, unless the ask is specifically referencing something.

18+ Minors DNI. Mature themes. Pregnant reader.

Dinner looked absolutely foul.

You'd almost, almost, feel bad for thinking it, if you weren't too preoccupied with the tampered birth control that you found in the bathroom drawer earlier. You'd almost feel guilty for sneering at Johnny's cooking, a meal you usually love, but you can't stop thinking about that little foil packet, with it's little sad beige pills all lined in a row, sitting harmlessly in the bathroom drawer, untouched for three months now.

Three months. The number is startling to you, the realization that you are actually three months pregnant with a baby. A small human. That you're growing. That you thought, was total accident. That you thought, was just an innocent occasion, something that happens, sometimes.

Surprise! It's not. It's not at all, if that perfectly pressed piece of foil had anything to say about it, the way it was already lifted from it's edge screaming at you like you were stupid.

And maybe you were stupid. Stupid to think these boys actually loved you, stupid to think they actually cared about you at all. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You can't even rationalize it, this choice, this decision they made. Can't begin to understand it. How could do they do this? How could they decide this for you? Force this upon you?

Johnny clears his throat, expectantly. Like they're waiting on something, and you jerk your head up to glance at the two of them.

"Did ya hear me?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Sorry, uh I was thinking." Your fork pushes the potatoes around on the plate and he frowns.

"No appetite?" Bingo. You can play this off as morning sickness. It's not really lying, considering you feel sick to your stomach anyway.

"Not really."

"Can I make you something else?" He tries, and he looks so eager, so hopeful. So sweet. It confuses you. How could this man, this person that you love, do something so, so wrong to you?

"No, thank you." Simon cocks his head, and you try not to shake in the chair. Simon will know. He'll know something's up. He reads you too well.

"Something on your mind?" He asks, and you shake your head quickly. Too quickly.

"N-no. Just thinking about... baby stuff." Johnny brightens, so happily, like a fucking clam, and you can't help the scowl that crosses your face. They're so fucking happy. So happy, that they took your choice away. Took your autonomy. Like it didn't even matter.

The change in your attitude does not go unnoticed.

"Hey, what is it?" Simon presses, and your fingers tighten around the fork, edges digging into your skin until it bites.

"Nothing, for fucks sake." You hiss, unable to stop yourself, unable to put a damper on your emotions, or your mouth. "Can't I have my own thoughts every now and then? You don't have a right to everything I'm bloody thinking all the time, you know." Johnny freezes, like a deer in headlights, watching you warily while Simon visibly tenses, biceps flexing beneath his t shirt.

"Darling-" He tries, and his tone is truly remorseful. Like he's sorry for setting you off.

You let the fork clatter to the plate when he continues, cutting him off. He looks surprised, mouth slightly agape, while you stare at him from across the table. The air in the room is thick, stagnant with whatever is simmering under the current, whatever it is that's waiting to strike.

"I'm going to lay down." You announce, standing up from the table as fast as you can.

Too fast.

The room spins, and you lurch, before finding your balance, hand thunking against the table to steady yourself. Johnny's up out of his seat in a blink, his reflexes too fast, and he's got an arm around your waist to steady you.

"I've got ya." He moves to pull you into his side, to provide you support, but you blow out a breath and push away.

"I'm fine. Just tired." you don't snap, but the words are brusque, and he flinches. You've never refused his affections, or attentions, ever in the history of your relationship. You close your eyes to take a deep breath. "I want to lay down." He steps away, slowly, and you can feel their eyes on you as you walk into the bedroom.

You slam the door as hard as you can, and then lock it, for good measure. It won't keep them out, but it will give you some privacy for a little while, at least. Enough time for you to have another cry, before you have to face them, and what they've done.

[pipsuwu]

Pretty Boy

A/N: Yes, I did make this gif, but Tumblr dot com has fucked the quality :’) anyways....It has been YEARS since I have written fan-fiction (the last time I wrote fanfiction it was 2018). If you like it, feel free to let me know. If it is absolute dog shit, feel free to let me know. Enjoy, you horny bastard. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.

Summary: You and Spencer have no clue what you are to each other until you confess to him...  Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader 

Genre: Smut                      

Warnings: Foul Language, Sub!Spencer, dirty talk, praise kink, scratching, marking, temperature play, Spencer being referred to as “Princess”, there are a lot of pet names, light dacryphilia, light overstimulation, asphyxiation, 

Word Count: 3,496 

“Would you please stop looking at me like that?”

You shift your gaze, suddenly deciding the wall to your right was far more interesting to look at. When was the last time the wall was painted? The paint is chipping away at the corners…

“Does it make it hard to focus when I do ‘look at you like that’?” you ask, “Just curious…”

“It’s a bit difficult to talk to you when you practically f-fuck me with your eyes,” he says, looking down at the table you’re both sat at. He has been fidgeting with his hands the entire time the two of you have been talking. He was the one who asked you to come here with him for lunch… he did say the two of you needed to talk, but… he hasn’t been able to get to the point. You look back at him, he still has his gaze down to the table before him.

“Does that make you nervous?”

“You mean do YOU make me nervous?” Spencer sighed, looking back at you briefly before deciding he could not handle eye contact with you at this time.

“Well, do I?” you asked, matter-of-factly. “Do I make YOU nervous?”

“Honestly? Yes, but also no, I do not know quite how to articulate it… what are we?” He looked up at you, holding eye contact this time.

Ah, so that’s what this is about…You knew this would come up. You and Reid had an… interesting relationship to say the least. The two of you met 6 months ago while he was out with some of his coworkers at a bar, apparently he had crashed some form of “girls’ night” with his bald handsome friend/coworker/wingman? (It wasn’t Spence’s plan, he made sure to ramble on about it being all baldy’s idea) Long story short, he ended the night talking with you at the bar for over an hour rambling on about anything and everything he could think of while you just listened to him. God, he is so cute when he rambles…Anyways, you snuck your number in his blazer pocket before he left and it was not long before you two were talking…but the labels in your relationship are a bit unclear even after 6 months of talking. You two hang out, go out together, he comes over to your place, you go over to his… It's typically just to watch horrible documentaries while he rambles off statistics and you listen to him. And then there are the times you two have kissed…okay, you two were practically eating out each other’s faces, but that is not only a newer development it is also besides the point…

“I don’t know what we are, Spence… we’ve never really talked about that. Our “friendship and/or relationship”-if you could even call it that-is a bit odd.”

“Well, let’s talk about it,” He replies, after drawing in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Our “friendship and/or relationship”-if you could even call it that,” He says using his air quotes before putting his hand down and reaching the other to pick up his drink and take a sip, you see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows, he has a really pretty neck… oh right, you’re supposed to be having a conversation…You look up at his face again while he takes another sip.

“I like our “friendship/relationship”…? But I would be lying if I said I did not want to…uh fuck you.”

He chokes slightly, coughing from a harsh intake of air. His mouth stretches into a thin line as he processes what you just told him. He nods, biting his lip before he clears his throat.

“Too much?” You ask, chuckling nervously stirring your very watered-down drink with the paper straw you were given.

“Th-Thank you for your uh honesty, I guess,” He looks down at the table again before meeting your gaze.

“You guess?” You question him, giving him a confused look.

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” He quips, you can tell he’s thinking about what you said, but words are escaping him.

“So you don’t know if you feel the same?” you ask, tilting your head. He shakes his, before a look of panic crosses his face.

“I mean no, as in I do not know uh how I feel,” He felt the need to clarify, you smile and nod your head.

“That’s okay, Spence, you can take your time figuring that out if that’s what you need.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t quite have the words. Until his face just went blank. Completely neutral.

“Let me think about it alone,” He says after a moment, to which you nod.

The check gets paid, split as usual, and then you both go your separate ways. You go to your apartment, changing into a baggy t-shirt and your underwear the minute you get in. You decide to watch some random cooking show on the food network as background noise for a nap on your couch.

The nap was going swell until hours later, you got a call from none other than the pretty boy himself. It has barely been 3 hours… you answer the phone.

“Hey uh Spence-”

“Open the door,” He interrupts, you sit there for a moment, processing what he said.

“P-Please open the door,” He stutters out, you hear him sigh on the other end of the line. You nod, even though he cannot see you. And then, you get up and open the door for him.

“Spence…”

He doesn’t dare step into the apartment, only focused on you standing in front of him.

“It has barely been 3 hours,” You say, your head tilted as you scratched your scalp.

“You said to take my time, I took as much of it as I needed,” He starts, pausing to take a deep breath.

“Can you come in before we have this talk awkwardly in the doorway to my apartment,” You shift to the side, so he can enter the apartment space. He presses his lips together before nodding, he starts taking off his converse and socks by the door before walking to the couch to sit down. You close the door and grab an iced drink for the both of you from the kitchen, before joining him on the couch.

“You said you wanted to f-fuck me?” He said it in the form of a question, his voice so quiet you could barely hear him. You just look at him quizzically.

“Maybe I want you to fuck me,” He states before clearing his throat, “I like the time we spend together, but I do not think we can be ‘friends’... at least not platonically.”

“Maybe..” You repeat back to him.

“I shouldn’t have said maybe… I-I want you to fuck me,” Spencer’s ears start turning red when he stutters out the confession. You smile softly at him, amused.

“When-”

“Right now.” He says it while shifting around, fidgeting, his hands rub over his thighs back and forth. You raise your eyebrows. He looks down at his thighs. You grab his face gently, turning him back to face you. Your free hand moves his hair out of his eyes. You sigh softly.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, you wanted certainty.

“Yes, I am completely sure,” He says, nodding a little. He doesn’t break eye contact for a second.

“Okay, Pretty boy,” you respond practically in a whisper, stroking his hair gently before letting go of his face. He takes the drink I gave him and takes a sip before taking off his scarf and tossing it to the side.

“What’ll the safe word be?” you ask, while watching him take off his blazer and setting it with his scarf.

“Safe word?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, a safe word, in case you want to stop,” you state before taking a sip of your drink.”Is that a problem?”

“No, how about ‘potassium’?” He asks, looking back at  you,  you pause, nodding. He started loosening his tie. You get up, grip the collar of his button up, and tug him towards you. You start unbuttoning his shirt.

“Wait, potassium?” You ask, causing him to pause. He just nods slowly. You look in his eyes for a minute before booping his nose, nodding back to him before moving your hands back to his shirt. “Potassium it is,” you state, his shirt joins his clothes, and you tug on his belt. Spencer lets out a little gasp, looking you in the eyes, biting his lip a little. The belt gets undone and tossed with the rest of the clothes. You then unbutton and unzip his pants, your eyes never leave his. Even as he steps out of his pants, shuffling them to the pile of his clothes. He moves his hand to the bottom of your shirt, looking down at it while he starts to fidget with the hem in his hands before looking back up to meet your eyes. You look down before looking back up at him, nodding a little. He gets the hint. He takes off your shirt, dropping it on the floor, before gently leaving a chaste kiss on your lips. Your hand moves to run through his hair before gripping the hair at the back, tugging a little causing a low whine to come from Spencer. You deepen the kiss, biting his bottom lip. He moans lightly, bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders. You tug on his hair again harder this time, moving your lips to lightly kiss his jaw before pulling away. You pull your hand out of his hair, lightly pushing him to sit down on the couch before straddling his lap. You sit back, admiring the view. Spence is already panting, he looks up at you through his lashes, his lips are red, and so are his ears. He is so pretty… You run your fingers through his hair gripping it to pull his head back, he closes his eyes. You start running your tongue up his neck, he shudders, humming to himself. You start marking his neck, biting and nipping at the sensitive skin. He moans lightly, his hand slipping in your hair and gripping it lightly causing you to groan. You leave hickeys and bite marks in a path towards his chest. His breathing gets heavier and heavier. You lick up his chest, before swirling your tongue around his right nipple. He gasps, his grip in your hair getting harsher.

“Y-Y/N,”He stutters out your name.You pause before moving to the other nipple, swirling your tongue around it, sucking lightly. He huffs out a heavy breath, groaning lightly. You occupy yourself kissing and marking his chest until you see Spence sliding the hand that isn’t still gripping your hair for dear life into his briefs. You grab his wrist swiftly and bring it up to his face. He lets go of your hair.

“Okay, Princess, I don’t recall saying you could touch yourself,” You state sarcastically.

“Princess?” He questions.

“Do you not like it?” You ask.

“I-I like it a lot...actually” He replies, he can barely look you in the eyes while admitting it. You smile at him, before tightening your grip on his wrist.

“Princess… don’t touch yourself right now, I want to take care of you.”

“Th-Then can you touch me?” He asks.

“You have to be a little more specific, Pretty boy.”

“Can you touch my cock, please…”he is incredibly embarrassed, even asking, you can tell by the tone of his voice, he avoids even looking you in the eyes after saying it. And you bite your lip, shutting your eyes for a second, nodding at him.

“You asked so nicely, so why would I say no?” You drop his wrist before giving him a light kiss, he deepens it, biting your lip and groaning into your mouth when he feels your hand grip the base of his cock. You move your hand along his cock, your grip tight. He groans and whines in your ear. You rest your head on his shoulder before biting down. Your hand gradually picks up the pace along his cock, squeezing tighter every so often, while he pants and moans practically right in your ear. He moves his hands to your shoulders, gripping his nails into your skin and dragging them down your back. You let go of his shoulder with your teeth and moan in his ear, arching your back. Your pace immediately quickens in response.

“Shit, Spence,” you curse, shuddering a little. He whines, continuing to dig his nails in your back.

“I need to c-cum,” He stutters out, his cock twitching as you quicken the pace even more. He stutters out moans, his face contorting in pleasure, sweat drips down his forehead, and on his chest. He seems lost in trying to reach his high. You reach to grab your drink, and take in enough drink allowing an ice cube in your mouth. Spence fails to notice, his eyes squeezed shut, as his back arches slightly. Muscles in his body twitching as he gets closer and closer to cumming. You dip your head, holding the ice cube between your teeth, running it over his chest, his eyes immediately open, as he whines, shuddering at the cold while his cock twitches and his body tenses up.

“F-fuck,” he stutters, bucking his hips up practically fucking your hand, in uneven thrusts. “I need to cum please.” He says a groan following. You lift your head taking the ice cube out of your mouth.

“I’m not going to stop you,” You state, smugly, slowing the pace you have on his cock, watching him come undone. His head immediately fell back, his hips frantically bucking up to meet your hand, as his eyes tears up moaning loudly. You slow your hand down to a complete stop, not wanting to overstimulate him too much… yet. You pull your hand away and lick his cum off your hand. He looks up at you through watery eyes, letting out a light groan at the sight. You were still holding the ice cube, so you decided to just suck it into your mouth letting it melt on your tongue. You briefly leave to get something to clean with before joining him back on the couch. You clean him up before giving him a light kiss letting him recover. You straddle him again, getting in his lap, and he groans. You look at him confused before lightly shifting on his lap. Oh.

“You’re hard again.” You say, shifting your hips again. He grabs your hips trying to get you to stay still, you grip his hands and take them off your hips. You get up and take off his briefs completely, throwing his briefs in the pile of his clothes. He reaches out for your underwear, tugging on the band of it while looking at you. You place your hand over his and help him tug it off leaving it on the floor. Straddling him again, he kisses you. He grabs your arm, mumbling under his breath while tugging on your arm. You raise your eyebrows, not understanding what he wants.

“What is it, Pretty boy?” You ask, making direct eye contact. He avoids eye contact, opting to instead look at your body. You take your hand and place it under his chin lifting his face. He looks at you, almost pouty, you can tell he doesn’t want to say it. Yet he musters up the courage anyway.

“C-can you sit on my face?” He asks, his voice is hushed, he looks embarrassed that he even asked. You have a shit-eating grin on your face right about now.

“…Lay down.”

“Thank you,” this man will be the death of you for fucks sake. You get up so he can lay on his back, once he does you straddle his chest and run your hands through his hair. Every angle is Spencer Reid’s angle, but looking at him like this… he’s so pretty. He runs his hands over your thighs, squeezing them impatiently. He’s begging you with his eyes at this point. You take a deep breath before moving up, positioning yourself over his face, you do not get to finish taking your sweet time as Spence uses his grip on your thighs to pull you down onto his face.

“Someone is very–oh shit, that’s really nice—impatient,” You observed, as he wasted absolutely no time fucking you with his tongue like an absolute madman. The moans coming from you are absolutely obscene and it’s giving Reid quite the ego boost, he’s trying not to smile. You have to stop yourself from practically riding the man’s face. He has barely even started and you already feel your orgasm about to hit you like a tsunami. Your legs are shaking, your breathing rapid, and your hands need something to grab onto so naturally you chose to put them in his hair.

“Th-That’s it, Princess, you’re r-really good at this,” You are tugging on his hair, taking deep breaths, feeling him dig his nails into your thighs and your ass. The closer you get the more you tug on his loose curls. “Shit, Spence, I-I need to—” In order to try and attempt to finish that sentence, one would need to be able to focus. That was practically impossible as Pretty boy had the audacity to look you in your eyes and dig his nails into your ass scratching all the way down. You feel like you just got the air knocked out of you as your orgasm hits. He keeps going, trying to hold your shaking legs as you cum. He keeps going and you eventually move off his face, straddling his chest, trying to recover. You hold both his hands, intertwining your fingers with his.

“I wanted to keep going,” His big ass puppy eyes meet yours as he pouts slightly.

“Don’t pout,” You lean down, resting one hand on his chest, the other reaches back and wraps around his cock. His eyes widen, a moan escapes him, as your thumb gently circles the tip.

“F-fuck me,” he cries out. You give him a soft smile.

“As you wish,” You line his cock up and sink down on it slowly. He groans, grabbing for your hands again to hold them while he takes deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” You ask him and he nods a little.

“I’m—I a-am—I am…wonderful” He can barely get out the words, whimpering in between syllables. His eyes squeeze shut as he takes deep breaths. He is squeezing your hands firmly. His hips fuck up into you and your breath hitches. “P-Please, fuck me.” He says, opening his tear-filled eyes. You do not feel the need to respond verbally, obliging him. You roll your hips before quickly lifting up and moving swiftly back down. He groans, moving his hands to your hips, gripping them. He thrusts up while you continue to set a steady pace. He moans, digging his fingernails into your hips. You moan on top of him, placing your hands firmly on his chest. You feel a little overstimulated, your hips stutter and your legs shake slightly. Tears start running down Spencer’s face, he cries out, soft whimpers leave him as he looks up at you. You move one of your hands, gently wiping the tears from his flushed cheeks before leaning down and kissing each cheek, picking up the pace despite your shaky legs and stuttering hips. Your fingers dig into his chest, scratching lightly and rolling your hips. Feeling a hand leave one of your hips you tilt your head in confusion as you feel Spencer’s hand grab your right wrist. He tugs at the wrist and you allow him to guide your hand to his neck. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows raise, nearly stopping the rolling of your hips against his cock. Experimentally, you wrap your hand around his neck, pressing against the sides of his neck to restrict his airflow, but making sure you do not choke him improperly. His cock twitches and his head falls back onto the couch cushion, his mouth opens, but no words come out and his hips stutter upwards, meeting your pace.

“Shit!” You curse as you cum, continuing to ride out your orgasm. Your hand squeezes his throat a little harder, causing Reid to grip at your wrist, digging his nails into your skin. He cums inside you, moaning and sighing out a light,’fuck’ as he relaxes on the couch, tears streaming down his face. You removed your hand from his throat resting it on his chest.

“Was it worth it, Pretty boy?” You asked, wiping his tears away. Spencer only nods, breathless.while tracing the scratch marks he left on your ass.

[fierymiasma]

 𖦹 Five Times....// Sebastian x f!MC 𖦹

Summary: Five times Sebastian Sallow Was Jealous and One Time He Didn't Have to Be

Requested by Anon

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Words: 2.7k

|| Masterlist || AO3 || Upcoming ||

1. First Date

"Is it true, Poppy?"  Sebastian shook the poor girl by the shoulders so hard that her head was bobbing back and forth like a ragdoll.  "Are you certain you saw her on a date?  Could you possibly have mistaken her for someone else?"

Ever since his crush best friend saved Hogwarts, she had been constantly surrounded by male attention.  It hadn't bothered Sebastian (it did).  After all, he knew that what the two of them had was more than any silly hero worship could compare to.  The hero of Hogwarts and Sebastian were inseparable.  They were friends, dueling companions…they were…

…Well frankly Sebastian didn't quite know what they were.

Until now.

"Why do you want to know so much Sallow?" A feminine Scottish voice interrupted the conversation from behind Sebastian's shoulder.

Sebastian swore.  Imelda fucking Reyes.  Just what he needed.  He had been in the middle of interrogating naïve Poppy Sweeting regarding their mutual friend's whereabouts.  This wasn't the time for Imelda and her egotistic mind games.  "This doesn't concern you, Reyes.  I was speaking to Sweeting."  He turned towards the short girl.  "Poppy, as one of her dear friends, her best friend, you need to tell me where she is.  All of Hogwarts depends on it."

Before Poppy could even respond, Imelda stepped in between them.  With a flick of her wrist, she cast the tongue-tying jinx, silencing Poppy.

Poppy squeaked, fingers flying to her lips in surprise.  Sebastian's eyes widened in shock.  The only thing anyone could hear coming from Poppy's mouth was a string of unintelligible garble.

Imelda patted Poppy on the shoulder.  "I think Poppy is having some trouble remembering the date's name."  Poppy's eyebrows furrowed in contempt at Imelda as she tried to unsuccessful untie her tongue.  "If only there was something to help jog the poor girl's memory."

Imelda made a hand gesture with her fingers like a Gringotts goblin rubbing two sickles together.

Sebastian's mouth dropped.  It was just like Imelda to butt into a personal crisis and profit off the situation. This was not the time for extortion.  Not when the savior's very first kiss was on the line.  A part of him wanted to wring Reyes neck.  But another, smaller, more Slytherin part of Sebastian applauded Reyes' clever thinking.  Digging a couple of sickles from the recesses of his pockets, he chucked them into Reyes clawed hands. 

"Are we settled, Imelda?"  Sebastian sneered.  "Can you leave me and Sweetings alone?"

"Hm…."  Imelda looked down at the paltry sum in her hands.  "Maybe her handsome date took her to the library…or was it the Quidditch field?  Actually, I believe the pair went on a picnic next to the Lake.  It is, after all, very romantic when the sun sets.  A perfect view for snogging, if you ask me." 

Sebastian called Imelda many foul, frankly unforgivable, names number his breath.  "I'll do your History of Magic essay as well."

Imelda waved her wand over Poppy's face, undoing the spell.

Poppy coughed, sticking out her tongue at Imelda.  "She's at the teashop in Hogsmeade with Benjamin Carrow.  He's a Gryffindor 7th year."  Poppy's cheeks blushed a bit.  "Super tall.  Very nice to look at."

Well, he did not need to know that last bit of information.  Sebastian's neck muscles tightened.  Benjamin Carrow.  Sebastian was well aware of the reputation of that particular Gryffindor.  He was even more aware of the effect that rake had on the female population of Hogwarts.  Handsome.  Chivalrous (supposedly).  And of course, in Sebastian's book, up to absolutely no good. 

He muttered a quick thanks to Poppy under his breath, before he spun away in a huff, stomping away with more force than necessary.

With the angry Slytherin out of the picture, Imelda flipped two sickles into Poppy's open hands.  Poppy frowned at the coins in her hand, her stomach twisting into knots.  "Should we tell Sebastian that he has nothing to worry about?  I feel awfully bad watching him so stressed out over nothing."

Imelda happily tallied up the remaining sum of coins in her hand before pocketing them.  "And ruin his fun?  Never."

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Sebastian ran to Hogsmeade so fast that one could almost accuse him of apparating.  His lungs were about to explode.  One of his ribs might have broken in the process of running up to Hogsmeade.  He steadied his hands on his thighs, trying to take deep breaths to replenish his supply of oxygen.  Slamming open the door of the teashop, he scanned the cozy space for any signs of his friend. 

His stomach dropped.  Left corner booth in the back, hidden behind the wall of flutterby bushes.  A classic play.  It was the best place for unwed, young couples to neck in public without getting caught.

Well, he certainly wasn't going to let her be a victim any time soon.

He smoothed his hair into place.  It was drenched from his sweat.  No doubt, he looked like a mess, having practically bent time and space to get here.

With the confidence that only Sebastian Sallow could exude, he walked up to the couple's booth, ready to put a stop to this nonsense.

"Benjamin?  It's funny running into you at a place like this!  It's been a while since you were at Crossed Wands."  Sebastian's tone was cheerful but his mouth was flat.

"Sebastian?"  the savior of Hogwarts asked before her date could even say anything.

"I need to speak with you."  Sebestian dropped all pretenses of pretending to give a shit about her date. 

 "You need to speak with me."  She repeated flatly.

This operation was not going as well as he had hoped.  "It's unfortunately urgent."

A painted eyebrow arched with skepticism. "You have an urgent message that cannot wait until this is over."   It was rather apparent that she did not believe him. 

Sebastian couldn't help himself anymore.  Gently wrapping his hand around hers, he pulled her out of her chair.  Well in for a knut, in for a sickle.  "Yes, terribly sorry…" he address her date,  "…rather unfortunate timing, but we must be on our way.  No rest for the hero of Hogwarts after all." 

She did not put up any resistance against him,  her hand tightened in his as she allowed the other man to help her out of her seat.  As Sebastian led her out of the teashop into the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, the savior of Hogwarts wondered what on earth was so important that Sebastian had to interrupt her very first date.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Sebastian was still holding her hand as he steered her to a more secluded alleyway to have a private conversation.  His hands were warm against hers.  Despite them being such close friends, they didn't really touch much.  Oh of course, she yearned for any excuses to brush against Sebastian.  Bumping into him in the hallway, pressing her back against his in an exciting duel.

But holding hands?  In public?  Why by both Muggle and Wizarding standards, it was quite the controversy.  Still she tried to cherish the feeling of his skin against hers even for this brief moment in time.

All too soon, they both arrived at the secluded nook right behind the backdoor of the Three Broomsticks.  Sebastian reluctantly let go of her hand.  Her heart was pounding in her throat as she let herself be whisked away from her date.  This was it.   After a whole year of waiting, months of yearning, and weeks of pining after the handsome Slytherin.  Sebastian was going to finally confess his feelings towards her. 

Poppy, Imelda and Natt had all reassured her, time and time again, that Sebastian was head over heels in love with her.  In fact, it was Imelda who suggested going on a date to "remind Sallow of the other eligible bachelors".  She resisted at first.  It felt wrong to even imagine being with anyone other than Sebastian Sallow, but as their 6th year of Hogwarts dragged on, and as the leaves started falling from the trees, it got harder and harder to say no to all the date proposals.  

Biting at her bottom lip, she looked at the boy before her, hoping that Sebastian would finally confess his feelings towards her. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

As Sebastian led her outside the romantic teashop, he couldn't help but notice how gorgeous she was.  Well, Sebastian had always thought that the savior of Hogwarts was extremely attractive, even when she was covered in troll boogeys, but….with her hair done up, the small amounts of make up on her face, and a fetching dress that hugged her curves….

In the rare moments that Sebastian would pick up one of Anne's romance books, he would always roll his eyes and scoff at the writers who moaned at the difficulties of describing a Veela's beauty.

Now, he was starting to understand how they must have felt. 

"Sebastian Sallow.  Whatever you tell me has better be important."

She folded her arms in front of her chest, clearly not amused by his antics.  Her finger drummed from forearm nervously, no doubt hoping to go back inside with Benjamin fucking Carrow.

"Sebastian Sallow," she repeated again, but this time there was a dangerous tone in her voice.  "What was it, that was so important that you needed to interrupt?"

Her face was flushed a pretty pink, reminding Sebastian of the love potions Professor Sharp showed off in class last week.  She looked even more beautiful when she looked murderously pissed at Sebastian.  It was perhaps not an appropriate time to tell her how attractive she looked when she was angry.

"You can't date him."  Sebastian fumbled.

"Who says I'm even on a date?" She shot back haughtily. 

Sebastian clenched his jaw.  "The Hogsmeade teashop.  Teatime for two.  Corner booth to the left.  Classic play.  Gryffindors use it all the time."

Okay, so maybe it was a date. 

"Plus you're wearing a new dress I've never seen you in and wearing make up."  His hands balled into fists.  "You never wear make up like that."  His voice was a hint accusatory. 

She touched her lips subconsciously.  Make up was still very new to her.  It was her first date in well…her whole life, and she wanted to do something special.  The hero of Hogwarts who was well versed in ancient magic and defeating trolls…was a novice in the romance department.  She was so nervous that her make up gave her face a ghoulish appearance.  But her date hadn't even commented or noticed.  Her stomach flipped.  She didn't know that Sebastian was the type of boy to even notice changes to her appearances. 

Seeing what looked like to him a cold mask of disdain on her face, he knew he had to say something less she suddenly lose interest in the conversation and go back inside with that prat. 

"You need to turn him down."  He stressed. 

"And why is that?"

A thousand arguments raced through Sebastian's brain.  "He's a prick.  I know his type, only dates whoever the most popular girl is.  The second he loses interest in you, he'll move onto the next." 

For some reason, Sebastian's words stung.  With all the boys asking her out in her 6th year, she had hoped that it was because they found her personality charming, or witty, or frankly they found her appearance flattering.  She was always a bit fearful that the boys were attempting to court her out for the bragging rights of getting a kiss from "the hero of Hogwarts."  She crossed her arms in front of her.  "Well maybe he's changed."

Sebastian snorted.  "He hasn't."

She frowned.  "Well, you don't know that.  I like Ben.  He's different.  He's not like the other boys."

Sebastian rolled his eyes in exasperation.  How many times had he heard that same expression come from Anne? 

"He's a bloke, for Merlin's sake.  They're all assholes."

She raised an eyebrow, looking at him pointedly.

"Except me."  Sebastian corrected.  "I'm awful for entirely different reasons."

She sniffed.  "You just don't like him because you're jealous that he gets more attention from other girls than you do."  she mumbled under her breath bitterly.

The boy blinked owlishly.  Something felt off about her statement but he wasn't quite sure why.  His best friend had never hinted that she was ever upset at the female attention Sebastian received.  In fact, ever since she had come to Hogwarts, Sebastian had never paid any mind to them.  Why would she be so bothered by it?

Why did it even matter when she was the only one that Sebastian truly gave a damn about?

His chest felt tight.  "Please, take my word for it."  Sebastian looked her in the eyes.  "Fellows like him…they're only after one thing, and the second they get it from you, they'll drop you like a sack of Dragon Dung." Sebastian's voice was quiet.  "I just don't want to see my friend hurt."

She huffed, looking away from Sebastian and breaking eye contact.  "He's a Gryffindor.  They're more chivalrous than you give them credit for."

Slytherins were far better dates, and she knew it.  Sebastian couldn't help but mumble under his breath.  "Doubt it.  He's a Gryffindor.  They're all assholes."

She glared at him.  "Garreth, Leander, and Natty are all Gryffindors."

Sebastian grimaced.  "And it's truly Natsai's greatest flaw." 

She scoffed.  She can't believe she just let him waltz in there and kidnap her away from her date, only for Sebastian to basically just throw a tantrum.  She was becoming like Ominis, too lenient on Sebastian's shenanigans.  "Why do you even care?" 

Sebastian looked at her incredulously.  Did she not listen to a word of what he said?  It's like she was purposely playing deaf. 

"You're one of my best friends besides Ominis.  I don't want to see you get involved with someone bound to hurt you." 

Her body stiffened.  ' A friend just like Ominis'.  A friend.  That's all they were to each other wasn't it?  Merlin, how could she be so stupid.  "And that’s why you came all this way to interrupt my date?  Because I'm one of your friends?"  She hissed the last two words through gritted teeth.

Sebastian ducked his head.   He took a shaky breath in.  "Yes.  Ever since you came into my life, everything has changed.  I care for you, deeply.  You are one of my best friends, and I wouldn't be here without you."

She shoulders dropped.  This wasn't what she wanted to hear.  "I got to go Sebastian.  It's rude for a lady to keep a man waiting." 

Sebastian stood there in the damp alleyway, feeling exceedingly vulnerable, wondering what exactly he said wrong. 

Before she could fully leave him, he turned towards her retreating form.  He grasped her hand, holding her in place.  Her wrist felt so warm in his hold.  If he pressed his thumb down more firmly, he could feel her pulse point beat steadily against his.

She stilled.

"You can't date him."  His words came out rushed and forced.  "You're the most powerful witch in our generation.  The prettiest one on top of it and the funniest one here.  You deserve better."

She scoffed, wrenching her hand away from his loose grip.  She was sick of pretty words from a pretty boy.  It felt rather cold and lonely now.  "What do you know what I deserve?

Sebastian's voice was thick with emotion.  "I know you deserve someone who isn't intimated by how powerful you are.  Someone who will always support your silly little errands.  Someone who you can trust to have at your back in a duel.  A gentleman who will always be loyal to you."

Someone….someone like me.  He thought privately.

He didn't dare say the last part out loud.

Her eyes searched his face, perhaps looking from more from him.  After a beat of silence, her shoulders fell.  There was a stony, unreadable expression on her face.

"Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Sebastian." Her voice quiet and her lips pressed together tightly.  "I'll be sure to remember your advice."  Whipping her nicely done hair behind her, she walked back into the teashop, no doubt returning to a rather nice date with that sleazy Gryffindor. 

Sebastian stood in the alleyway by himself, alone.  He couldn't help but feel as though she wanted something more from him, but he couldn't tell what. 

Part 2