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captainsophiestark · 22 hours

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Dick Grayson x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: As a PA on a nightly talk show with all kinds of celebrity guests, the job always comes with some level of unexpected chaos. But when Dick Grayson's interview is interrupted by a New York supervillain, the events of the night might reach a whole new level of wild adventure

Word Count: 2,967

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a little bit of Angst

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Can you believe he's really here?"

"No. How is it possible that he's somehow hotter in person?"

I stifled a laugh behind my hand and turned to look at my coworker, Tara, who had an absolutely shameless grin on her face. I shook my head, but I couldn't stop a similar smile from spreading across my own face, too.

We'd become work besties since we got hired and added to the crew of the same talk show together at the same time. We'd worked with a laundry list of truly incredible guests (and some truly terrible ones), but today was officially the record best for the both of us.

Richard Grayson, the famous, charming philanthropist and eldest son of Bruce Wayne was our guest for today's show. My job was making sure talent knew where to go and that they got there on time, so even better, I'd actually been able to interact with him a bit.

"Was he nice?" asked Tara, keeping her voice low as we watched our host go through the interview as planned. "Please tell me he was nice. I don't think I could handle it if he was an asshole."

"Oh, Tara, he was so sweet. You should've seen the smile he gave me when we were introduced. And he remembered my name, he said thank you specifically to me when I got him to the stage earlier!"

Tara sighed. "I'm in love."

"Honestly? Same."

The two of us fell into comfortable silence as we returned our attention to the shoot before us. The host was asking about some charity work Dick Grayson and his dad had gotten behind recently, and every time the host tried to give him accolades, Dick deflected and turned all the attention back to the volunteers and the people they were trying to help.

I was quite literally melting. Next to me, Tara seemed to be having the same reaction.

"I wish he could come on every week," she muttered, shaking her head. "They're about to wrap this part though, I need to get in position to set up for the game they're gonna play. Continue this after the show?"

"You're on."

She shot me a wink, then headed over to where all the props were resting for the game our host was going to play with Grayson. I turned my attention back to the interview, then frowned. Something weird was going on with the backdrop of the set. The color was changing to an icier white, as if frost was spreading across it. I squinted, trying to get a closer look, when everything around me exploded.

Cold wind swept through the studio as the lights went out. Members of the audience screamed, and I whirled around a moment later to see exactly why. Killer Frost, one of the supervillains who sometimes operated here in New York, was at the top of the audience seats, sending ice and freezing wind through the entire studio.

I shook my head, taking a few steps backwards before I thought better of it. I turned to the main stage where our host, guest, and a few others had been, searching for anybody I could help out of here, only to find it empty. A moment later Tara rushed up to me, a panicked look in her eye.

"Tara! You have to get out of here!" I said, trying to be heard over the increasing commotion as Killer Frost slowly but surely made her way down the stairs and towards the main stage, moving as if she had all the time in the world. "Get anybody you can to follow you, go down the stairs and get the hell out of here as fast as you can! And call somebody for help on your way out!"

Tara nodded, her grip on my forearm still like iron.

"Are you coming with me?"

I glanced over her shoulder at Killer Frost with a grimace, then turned back to Tara and shook my head.

"I want to see if I can help anybody else get out of here, especially Grayson. Talent's supposed to be my responsibility, and it seems like she's probably after him for a ransom or something. Since he's not familiar with the studio, I don't want him getting lost or stuck somewhere if there's something I can do to help."

Tara shook her head, but I started pushing her towards the exit and moving in the opposite direction before she could stop me.

"Go! I'll meet you outside!"

With that, I turned on my heel and ran.

Thankfully, I'd gotten to know this place well enough in the time since I'd started working here that I was able to navigate quickly through the back hallways. Everything back here was deserted now, which hopefully meant that everyone else had already gotten out. I threw open every door I passed anyway, looking for stragglers trying to hide that I might be able to send out the back stairs instead, getting them further out of harm's way.

The temperature in the hallway dropped with every extra second I spent here, and I knew I was running out of time, but I was determined to finish checking this space. Every room so far had been empty, but the last door at the end of the hall was our guest dressing room. Once I cleared it, I could get the hell out of here myself. With one quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Killer Frost hadn't reached this place yet, I threw open the last door on my list.

I froze in the doorway, but not because of a supervillain. Basically the opposite, actually. Before me, in the middle of the room, was Dick Grayson. He was shirtless, but more notably, he was halfway into the very recognizable superhero costume of Nightwing.

We locked eyes, just staring at each other for a few long moments while my brain tried to compute what I was seeing. I blinked, thinking this had to be a prank or an illusion or something, but then the temperature dropped another few degrees and Dick Grayson—Nightwing—started moving.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked as he quickly pulled on the top half of his suit. I just shook my head, trying to get my brain engaged again.

"I... I was checking if anybody was still here, I wanted to make sure you got out the back stairs since Killer Frost is probably here for you... are you seriously Nightwing?"

Dick grimaced as he slipped on a domino mask, giving me all the confirmation I needed.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anybody. But right now, you need to get out of here."

"Right. Right, yeah, you're right."

Dick nodded, crossing the room to gently take my arm and lead me out of it. I turned to the door at the end of the hallway that would lead to the stairs and out of the building, but before I could take so much as a step towards it, a blast of ice exploded against the wall, sealing the door completely shut.

I heard Dick swear under his breath as he yanked me back against his chest, moving me out of harm's way just in time.

"Get in the dressing room and keep your head down," he muttered to me before gently pushing me in that direction. I paused in the doorway to watch as he slowly turned to face Killer Frost, who'd finally caught up to us.

Nightwing shot me a wink and a confident smile before stepping forward, past where I could see his face. I knew I needed to take cover; I couldn't do much against Killer Frost, and neither could Nightwing if he was worried about protecting me. But before I shut the door, I figured there was one last thing I could do to try to help him.

"Dick, take cover back there," I said, faking pushing someone just beyond sight of the doorway from the hallway. "Nightwing's here, he's going to take care of it. It's going to be okay."

I wasn't sure if that would convince Killer Frost, or if Nightwing's secret identity was even something I should be concerned about right now, but I figured it at least couldn't hurt to try to help him out. I chanced one last glance behind me, but couldn't see more than a blinding flash of light as the two supers collided and I shut the door.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself. It still didn't seem completely real—it felt like a mistake. Richard Grayson, the famous son of Bruce Wayne, was one of the last people I'd expect to be a vigilante. Yet the proof was pretty irrefutable.

I crossed the room, shakily easing down into the nearest chair. Hopefully Dick, or Nightwing, or whoever the hell he was would be able to beat Killer Frost. If he wasn't, this room would surely be her next stop, and she'd probably be pretty disappointed to just find me, without the billionaire's son she'd been looking for.

The clashing and shouting sounds of fighting continued outside, setting my nerves on edge with every second that passed. Finally, they came to a stop, and that was honestly worse. I perched on the edge of my seat, ready to jump up at a moment's notice, and watched the door like a hawk. I shot halfway to the ceiling when it came flying open, then collapsed back onto the couch when I saw it was just Nightwing.

"You scared the hell out of me," I breathed, putting a hand to my chest. He shot me a grin as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Sorry about that. I don't have a lot of time to spare, here."

"You... won, right? You beat Killer Frost?"

He nodded before ducking behind a rack of clothes to one side of the room. I could still see his face as he slipped off the domino mask, revealing the kind but non-super guest of the show that I'd met earlier today.

"She's unconscious, and I made sure she was subdued for whichever authorities get here first. But I couldn't stay out there to wait for them, since it might make my identity a little obvious. Especially when they checked this room and found you alone in here."

I huffed a laugh. "Yeah, people might have a few questions about that, my boss included."

He shot me a smile that made me melt, then stepped out from behind the rack of clothes a moment later, his nice suit for the talk show looking as good as when he'd first come in this morning. I frowned.

"What?" he asked. I shook my head, gesturing to his overall appearance.

"You look too put together. You were almost kidnapped by Killer Frost, you got shoved into this room by a vigilante and me... I don't know, I think you're supposed to look a little more rumpled."

He laughed. "You know, that's a good point. Hold on."

He ran his hands through his hair a few times to mess it up, then ripped at his nice white button up shirt until it looked sufficiently messy. Once he'd finished, he turned back to me with a smile, arms out to his sides.

"How's this?"

I smiled. "So good you might need to start worrying about the threat our hair and wardrobe people might pose to your safety when they see you instead of Killer Frost."

"I'll take it," he said, still beaming. A moment later though, the smile melted off his face and he took a step towards me. "Look... I appreciate your help covering my identity with Killer Frost... can I trust you to keep doing that? Nobody knows this secret."

I stared at Dick, one of the nicest guests we'd ever had on this show and apparently secretly the superhero Nightwing, as he came to a stop just a few inches from me. His wide, sparkling blue eyes and messy black hair made my heart melt and race all at the same time. I still didn't really know him, although I now knew something pretty major about him, but nevertheless, I couldn't help feeling that my sense about him—that he was a good, kind person—was right on.

I took a deep breath to give him an answer when the door to the room came flying open. On instinct, I shoved Dick backwards and behind the couch, and stepped forward. My producer, the show's host, and someone I assumed was a detective here for Killer Frost stared back at me.

"What happened?" I demanded, trying to look scared and wary as I shifted slightly backwards towards Dick. "Where is... is she gone?"

Everyone in the room relaxed a little at my question, the detective nodding as Dick stepped up to stand next to me.

"Killer Frost has been neutralized," she said. "What happened to the two of you?"

I glanced at Dick, still making a show of being rattled, and he did the same. I took a deep breath and turned back to the trio before us.

"I ran down here to try to make sure everyone got out, but Killer Frost showed up before Dick and I could make a run for it. She would've..." I paused, letting my gaze go a little unfocused as I swallowed hard, doing my best to sell the fear of the experience, which really wasn't all that hard. "I think we would've been in some serious trouble, but Nightwing showed up in the nick of time. He told us to wait in here while he took care of Killer Frost. Is he... is he okay?"

The three people before us shared a look, before the detective's eyes slid over me and Dick standing beside me. I very intentionally didn't look at him, instead focusing on keeping my eyes wide and worried. After a moment, the detective sighed and shrugged.

"He's not here and Killer Frost is subdued on the floor, so I'd say it's safe to assume he's fine," she said. I sighed, letting my shoulders relax and leaning slightly into Dick. He slumped a little too, putting a hand on my shoulder, like the both of us were incredibly relieved. We sat down on the couch together while the detective made sure we were both alright, and then my producer and the show's host checked in as well. They'd obviously decided not to finish filming today, and Dick was kind enough and thankfully in town long enough that we were able to schedule an alternate filming day.

Once we'd finished going through plans and questions and being checked on, we were told to head outside and go home. Dick and I didn't say much to each other throughout the process, until we stepped outside the building together, the sun shining down on the both of us. I took a deep breath then turned to Dick, only to find him already watching me with a smile.

"Thanks for that," he said. I returned his smile.

"Thanks for saving the day," I replied. "And I know it wasn't really your choice to share... you know... with me, but I promise your secret's safe."

Dick met my eyes, the smile off his face and replaced by a much more serious expression. He took a breath, then slolwy nodded.

"I believe you. Thank you."

The corner of my mouth quirked up, and we just stayed there for a moment together, letting the new reality wash over us. Even though we'd only met today, and neither of us knew the other well, things felt different, and closer, than they had before, now that we'd shared such a wild experience today.

"So... I know tonight, you probably just want to go home and get some breathing room from everything," Dick started, his eyes drifting to the city around us as he spoke. I watched him carefully, one eyebrow raised. "But I was thinking... after I come back for our replacement shoot, maybe I could take you out to dinner once we're done? I at least owe you a drink for everything we just went through together."

I laughed. "You owe me a drink? I'm pretty sure Nightwing is the only reason I'm not a frozen popsicle in that studio right now."

Dick smiled, and I couldn't help mirroring his expression as my heart pounded in my chest.

"But... I'd love to take you up on dinner," I continued, ignoring the rush of blood and nerves in my ears. "As long as you know the first round of drinks is on me."

Dick absolutely beamed back at me.

"Deal. Here, let me get your number and we can coordinate the best place for dinner and drinks."

"Perfect," I said, somehow keeping my hand from shaking as I held out my phone to him and took his in return. We exchanged numbers, then shared another smile as we handed back each other's phones. "Well... I guess I'll see you soon, then?"

"Can't wait." He flashed a grin that made me melt, then took a step closer to me and lowered his voice. "And thanks again for all your help today. I really, really appreciate it."

I nodded. "Likewise. Happy I could help."

He shot me a wink and another smile, then backed away, heading down the street and away from the building that housed our studio. He waved over his head at me as he went.

"See you soon!" he called. I grinned and waved after him.

"See you soon!"

I watched him go until he turned a corner, then finally started making my own way home. I didn't expect to end the day with a date scheduled with Dick (no matter how many times Tara and I had joked about it), but I was certainly happy with the unexpected outcome, despite what it took to get here.

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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

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lasagoofs · 3 months

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horse time!

#had some time to color these earlier today #digital art #illustration #i mean hell feel free to commission me mlp characters #ponies are fun #artists on tumblr #lasagoofs

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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years

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...

#earlier today u was staring up at the roof if a wooden pavilion thinking abt hsrm's body corroded and rotting with water damge #and i wanted to do one last big drawing before i leave tomorrow but i took too long and tomorrow ive gotta prep to leave so >:-(#im not bringing my pens so i cant color anything and ill prob b too tired and busy anyway #idk how much internet access ill have #but i will draw. maybe some cursed hsrm horrors. maybe #idk im slightly worried abt how itll go bc this just hasn't been a v good year #and ive got 16hrs in the car 1 way with 2 ppl #idk how we'll fill that time. usually i try to talk the whole way thru to make myself a good co piolet bc im too #neurotic to drive but that's v exhausting and i do worry abt the things ill say #bc i dont have much of a filter #and we're collecting these samples that r gonna make my life agony later this year #but ill b nice to see somewhere else #hopefully i wont start losing my mind #but idk i also have ti share a room with my boss on the way up. which is fine shes cool but also i get extremely stressed abt #sleeping around ppl. and idk what the housing conditions at the place r so.... hhhh i guess we'll find out.#its only like 9 days or something?#that seems like a long time. ill probably have at least one meltdown #last big sampling thing i very quietly had a panic attack in a restaurant lmao #hhhh i should sleep. but i dont wanna. i just wanna draw and not think and roll around in the dirt #unrelated

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sexbot300 · 2 months

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telling them they have a small dick!

pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)

⤷ 18+, MDNI

tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.

a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)

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Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary

Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’

Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.

Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it.

A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”

With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.”

In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.

“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.

Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.

He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.

My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to.

Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”

He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.

“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?”

Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?”

“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.

Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.

“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”

“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.

Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.

“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary.

Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”

With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”

A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”

“W-what?” Your voice croaked.

“They’re unreliable.”

“Want to know something else funny?”

Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.

He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”

On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar.

Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek.

Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.

Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.

“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling.

It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out.

“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.”

Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.

“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”

All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression.

“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”

“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”

He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”

“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”

Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.

He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”

You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.

Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.

“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”

“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this.

Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.

“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”

Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull.

“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.

“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”

“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl”

“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.

Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.

“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.

Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.

“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.

“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below.

“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.”

Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.

Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.

“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”

═════════════════════

Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date

“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.

Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort.

Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was.

Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.

Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand.

A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.

Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight.

My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.

His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more.

‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’

Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before.

“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end.

“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor.

Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.

Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard.

“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”

Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.

Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.

Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.

“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.

“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body.

Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core.

While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.

Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own.

“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands.

Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?”

Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”

Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.

Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”

Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs.

It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.

Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.

Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”

Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you.

He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.

For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been.

Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.

“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”

3K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 3 months

Text

Brake Balance

Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader

Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser

Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder

You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.

You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.

There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” You say playfully.

Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”

You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”

“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”

His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.

Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.

Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.

The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.

“Be safe out there,” you say softly.

He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.

“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.

You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.

The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.

“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.

Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.

“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.

“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.

The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”

Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”

“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.

“Around 100 degrees.”

You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.

“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.

Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.

In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.

Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.

Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.

While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.

With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.

***

The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”

“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”

You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.

“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”

Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”

“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”

“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”

“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.

A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.

“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.

“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”

He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.

“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”

Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.

“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”

He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.

“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”

You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”

Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”

You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.

“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”

Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.

Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.

***

After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.

The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.

“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”

You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”

You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.

“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.

“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”

His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.

“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”

As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.

“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”

You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”

Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.

“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”

Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”

Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”

You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.

“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”

He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.

“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”

You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”

Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.

“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”

He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”

In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.

“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”

Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.

“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”

Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.

“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.

You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …

“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”

You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”

He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”

You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.

“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”

The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”

In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.

“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”

Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.

“It was ...”

He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.

“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.

“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.

“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”

Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.

“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”

The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.

Or so he thinks.

Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.

Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.

For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.

Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.

Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.

And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.

By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.

For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.

Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.

Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.

With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.

***

Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.

Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.

You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.

Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.

“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.

Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”

You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”

Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”

You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”

Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”

Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”

Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.

You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.

Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.

“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.

In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.

The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.

The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.

“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.

“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”

You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.

Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”

You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.

“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.

You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.

But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.

So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.

He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.

So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.

Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.

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gojossocks · 3 months

Text

We can't be friends

Gojo x Reader Summary: You decided to erase Gojo from your memory.

“Who is Gojo Satoru to you?”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, before giving the doctor a tight-lipped smile. “W-we were together for 6 years.”

He’s no one important really, just the love of your life.

There has been an on-going trend all over the world— technology has upgraded enough that you can erase someone entirely out of your memory, as if they’ve never existed. If they do, it wasn’t like how you knew them.

You weren’t sure what dragged you in this clinic with all of the most important things that remind you of him. Maybe it was the way he ignored you like the plague, the way the familiarity in his eyes disappeared just earlier last week when he spoke to you so freely like you’ve never been together. It was clear that he got his memory of you erased after that incident. You were just another colleague. Perhaps, the pain in your heart is too much to handle.

You don’t remember the way to the clinic that much. It was a surprise you even got there in one piece considering you were sobbing the whole way there. So even if you aren’t entirely sure whether you’re ready to let go of Satoru, you signed the consent form anyway.

If he’s got you erased completely from your life, then what’s the point of living in hell remembering him? You didn’t want to mourn for someone alive and well.

You never really understood why he left because everything was just working out between the two of you. Satoru provided you with no explanation and packed up his things to leave you behind to your own devices. You almost wanted to back out when you started reminiscing vividly of everything you once shared with him.

You remembered falling in love with him, how it feels like the first day of spring, how his kisses taste like daylight. How he squeezes your hand three times before you part ways for a mission. How he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters in his world. How it was always you and him against the world, him making you laugh while you tended to his wounds. He would tell you that everything would be okay because he has you and only you.

The bad outweighed the good that you had forgotten that loving him and being loved with him is something that you never wanted to forget, even if your relationship with him crashed and burned. You don’t want him to be a stranger you can’t recognize anymore.

But it had already been done and everything faded into nothingness as you try to grasp with whatever you have left of him.

-.-

You have been working with Gojo for quite some time now, maybe about six years. But you’ve never directly initiated conversations with him outside work. He’s the only one you don’t know much about in Jujutsu High. Today is no different as you’re waiting with him in the clinic for your mutual friend Shoko.

“That’s a beautiful necklace you have there.” He acknowledges you for the first time since you got there. Even if you’re just a few meters away, he doesn’t talk to you. You find that a little bit weird because everyone tells you that he’s obnoxious and loud. Somehow with you, he’s always quiet.

You didn’t remember much of how you got the necklace. You figured that the reason why Gojo’s asking about it is because it matches the color of his eyes. There was a hazy memory though— you were crying, telling a doctor to ‘let me keep it, please. Just this one.’ but you didn’t think much of it. Maybe it was all a dream.

You responded with a laugh before toying with the pendant of the necklace. “Yeah, It was a gift to me.”

“Oh?” He looked at you through his glasses, his intense gaze making you feel a little nervous. “Mind telling me who?”

“I forgot.” You replied, slowly relaxing in your seat while looking around at Shoko’s clinic. He nodded at you, a small smile adorning his lips and he didn’t say anything more.

You missed the way his eyes linger on you for a moment before putting back his blindfold on or the apologetic look that Shoko gave him before he leaves.

“So, who’s Gojo Satoru to you?”

“He’s the strongest of course.”

But to him, you’re still his everything—because he didn’t really remove you from his memory. Maybe if he was braver, you’d remember him.

a/ n: part 2? :0

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fic #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #jjk angst #jjk fanfic

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risuola · 6 days

Text

ENTRY #13 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // How much I appreciate you I only know when I lose you.

contents: arranged marriage!au, little post-argument scenario, just a hint of hurt and lots of comfort — wc. 974

a/n: experimenting continue, I like the slight change in writing and uhhh... will there be a second post to the series today because I can't wait any longer to post the nsfw part? yeah, probably. maybe tomorrow if I have enough self-restraint.

series masterlist

When Satoru enters the bedroom, you’re already there. It’s late, nearly midnight, but you’re up, in the dim, yellow-ish lights of your nightstand lamp, you seem distant. With some papers spread and open, you’re on your side, your back facing the middle of the bed — facing him, and he sighs at the sound of silence, at the lack of your reaction to his presence. It’s in the moments like this when he appreciates the smiles you always offer him, the softness of your voice whenever you greet him, the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him. It’s true that one learns to value a thing the moment it’s gone.

So he puts down his glasses, careful to not make it too loud and he offers a “hey” as he’s sitting down on his side of the mattress. He studies your frame, the curve of your hip and waist, your tensed shoulders, the way one of your hands support your head as you read; the sound of pages rustling is the only thing that fills the room. He hears you exhaling a little deeper, a little longer and he knows you’re not going to wish him goodnight.

Satoru lets out a huff of air out of his lungs and decides to be stubborn. He knows it’s justified, the way you’re acting — that day began with a fight and he said a little too much, a little too loud, then left the house, left you. He hates the way he acted, it’s been a while since you last had an argument and it didn’t feel good. It haunted him all day, you were all his thoughts and he struggled to focus on anything of his own knowing you were out in the field. He’s sent you a message earlier, he has sent few of them, but you left him on read — and that was enough to tell him that you’re alive and well enough to check your phone. But he missed your voice and the cheesy emojis you always use when texting him. The day felt incomplete without the blue hearts on his screen, the ones you liked the most because they had a color of his eyes.

He gets on the bed and leans towards you, lowering himself enough to nuzzle his face to your lower back as his arm snakes around you. He feels you tense for a split second but you do nothing to push him away and he takes it as a yes. Satoru breathes you in, takes in the scent of your skin, kisses you tenderly, pressing his lips right next to the little dimples above your bottom. You feel the warmth spreading from his touch and reaching the very tips of your body and it feels soothing. It feels like you’re finally home.

Your sleeping top rides up under his ministrations, exposing your hip and your husband is quick to cover area with little kisses. He moves up, resting his head at the dip of your waist as his hand is tracing idle circles onto the silky flesh of your side. You sigh again, putting down the papers. You couldn’t focus on them anyway, not when his eyes are drawing you in.

“Satoru…”

“I know sweet cheeks, I messed up,” he admits and you close your eyes. The argument from the morning has been weighing you down and it surprised you how quickly you got used to spending good time with Satoru, forgetting how bumpy the ride was when you were straight out of the altar. Then it was your daily, then you fought more than talked normally and you never thought too much of those arguments after they happened. Then, you didn’t care. But now you do. Now, as the feelings between you and him are growing stronger and stronger, you do care. A lot.

“I messed up too,” you say and he moves again. His hand swiftly gathers all the documents you had spread out and pushes them off the bed and onto the nightstand. You twist your torso and he’s above you, his lips on your neck and he nips at your skin. It’s gentle, it’s intimate, it’s warm. You love his kisses.

Satoru is all or nothing when it comes to intimacy, and with you, he’s all in. He kisses you in ways that have your breath hitching, your heart beating faster, your face feeling hotter. He kisses like he’s savoring you, like you’re a dessert he’s been waiting for his entire life. Even the gentlest pecks convey so much passion, he’s slow about them, allowing his lips to meet your skin properly. He tastes you, breathes you in. And he loves to keep you close while doing it. His hands tend to plant themselves on your waist, wrap around your back, hold the nape of your neck. His hands like to wander, to explore. He has to touch you, he needs the skin-on-skin contact, he craves it more than he craves air and you love that in him. You love how he opened to you, stripped himself off the infinity and allowed you in.

Gojo pulls you closer, until there’s no space left between you and his chest. He rests finally, melting against the mattress as he cradles you in his arms and you can feel the tension leaving his body — and yours does too.

“I’m sorry, I hate to see you upset,” he says finally, his mouth against the top of your head and you hum, inhaling him in, with your nose buried into his chest. Your fingers paint gentle patterns on his bare back and you kiss his skin. “I didn’t mean to cause a fight and I didn’t mean to say what I said.”

“I know, Toru,” you reply, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Sleep well wifey.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

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hoshifighting · 19 days

Text

Lingerie

Synopisis: Where, while you show off your new lingerie sets that you bought, Jun is enchanted by the lingerie with embroidered flowers, something different, that enchanted his eyes.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Smut, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), praising, squirt & etc.

Jun had always been the epitome of a supportive boyfriend. Whether it was your college work, cooking a new dish, or even finding the perfect dress for a wedding, Jun was there, ready to assist. He made everything feel effortless, always taking care of the details so you didn’t have to worry.

“Jun, I really don’t know how to tackle this assignment,” you’d sigh, frustration evident in your voice.

He would slide over, peering at your laptop screen. “Let me take a look. Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas together,” he’d suggest with a gentle smile, and before you knew it, the daunting task felt manageable.

In the kitchen, you once struggled with a recipe you’d never tried before. Jun found the perfect tutorial online and stood by your side, guiding you step by step until the dish was ready, his patience never wavering.

And when it came to shopping for that perfect dress for a friend’s wedding, Jun’s patience shone through. You spent hours in the mall, trying on what felt like a hundred different outfits. Yet, Jun never complained. He sat outside the dressing rooms, offering genuine opinions.

“That one’s nice, but I think the blue dress brings out your eyes more,” he’d say, making the decision-making process so much easier.

His opinions always seemed spot-on, which is why you’d come to trust his judgment on many things, especially when it came to your wardrobe. Shopping with him became an enjoyable experience rather than a chore.

Today was another shopping day, and you were on the hunt for a new outfit for an upcoming event. As usual, Jun was by your side, carrying your bags and offering his thoughts on the clothes you tried on.

“What do you think of this one?” you asked, stepping out of the fitting room in a sleek, black dress.

Jun looked up from his phone, his eyes lighting up. “You look amazing. But maybe try it with those heels we saw earlier?”

You nodded, smiling. “You always know what looks best.”

After a few more outfits and Jun’s invaluable input, you finally settled on a dress. As you walked out of the store, you linked your arm with his, feeling grateful for his constant support.

“Thank you for always being so patient with me,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jun chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s easy when I’m with you. I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

He says that with the greatest naturalness. – While you were freaking out inside.

As you arrived home, Jun noticed you were carrying a few extra bags, including some from a lingerie store he knew well. He had bought you gifts from that store before, particularly on Valentine's Day.

“When did you buy these?” Jun asked, curiosity and a hint of excitement in his voice.

You smiled, placing the bags on the table. “When you went to get ice cream,” you replied nonchalantly.

Jun's eyes lit up, a playful smirk spreading across his face. The thought of you picking out something special while he was away added a spark of anticipation.

Later that evening, after dinner and a cozy time together, you both retreated to the bedroom. Jun sat comfortably in the poltrone, eagerly waiting as you prepared to show him the new lingerie. He could hardly contain his excitement, his eyes following your every movement.

First, you stepped out in a stunning red set, the vibrant color highlighting your curves beautifully. Jun's jaw dropped, and he couldn't help but cover his face, cheeks flushed red. “Wow, you look incredible,” he mumbled from behind his hands.

You giggled, twirling around to give him a full view. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” Jun nodded, peeking through his fingers, his eyes filled with admiration.

Next, you slipped into a sleek black set, the lace and satin combination making you feel both elegant and seductive. You strutted around the room, feeling confident under Jun's appreciative gaze. “This one is my favorite so far,” he confessed, his voice slightly hoarse with desire.

“You're too sweet,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth at his words.

Finally, you emerged in a delicate white set, the purity of the color contrasting beautifully with the sultry design. Jun couldn't take his eyes off you, his face still a deep shade of red. “You look like an angel,” he whispered, his praise as genuine as ever.

You walked over to him, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m glad you like them. You always make me feel so beautiful.”

Jun smiled, his hands gently holding your waist. “That’s because you are. And I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You stepped into the room, adorned in a pastel floral lingerie, a departure from your usual style. You knew it, and Jun knew it too. But this time, instead of his usual enthusiastic response, Jun remained silent. He simply stared at you, his gaze sweeping over your figure from head to toe. His mouth hung slightly open, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath.

Concerned by his lack of reaction, you couldn't help but ask, “Don't you like it?”

Jun didn't respond with words. Instead, he closed the distance between you in a few swift strides, his movements purposeful and determined. Before you could even react, he pressed his lips to yours, his hand firmly holding the nape of your neck while the other encircled your waist.

Your eyes widened in surprise at his sudden action, but you quickly melted into the kiss, allowing yourself to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace. His lips moved with a fervent passion, igniting a fire within you that quickly spread throughout your entire being.

As he gently laid you down on the bed, Jun's eyes remained fixed on you, his gaze intense and unwavering. His hands began to explore your body with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. Fingers traced delicate patterns across your breasts, down your belly, until they reached the band of your panties.

You held your breath in anticipation, your heart racing with excitement. But instead of removing your panties entirely, Jun surprised you by simply pushing them to the side. A soft gasp escaped your lips as his fingers found their target, circling your clit with a feather-light touch.

The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back instinctively, pressing yourself against his hand as he continued to tease and tantalize you.

As Jun's fingers slid inside your wet pussy, you couldn't help but arch your back in response to the delightful sensation. A low moan escaped your lips, your body instinctively pressing against his hand as he began to explore your gummy walls.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he gazed upon you. "Every curve, every sigh, it's all so perfect."

Your cheeks flushed crimson at his words, and you couldn't help but cover your face in embarrassment. "Stop it, Jun," you protested weakly, though the desire that burned within you betrayed your words.

But Jun was undeterred, his fingers never faltering in their ministrations as he continued to lavish you with praise. "I can't help it," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire. "You drive me wild, you know that? Just seeing you like this, so hot, so pretty..."

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself squirming beneath him, unable to contain the desire that coursed through your veins. With a gentle touch, Jun reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheeks as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"You don't need to hide from me," he whispered, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I want to see all of you, every part of you."

Jun's response was immediate and decisive, his actions speaking louder than words as he lowered himself between your thighs without hesitation. As his warm breath ghosted over your sensitive flesh, anticipation coursed through your veins.

Without a word, Jun buried his face in your heat, his tongue flicking out to taste your arousal. A moan escaped your lips at the touch of his tongue on your clit, pleasure radiating out from where his lips and tongue touched you.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with need as you pressed against him, urging him to go deeper. "I need you, Jun. I need you to fuck me."

But Jun simply chuckled against your skin, his movements deliberate and unhurried as he teased you with languid strokes of his tongue.

You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair as your body begged for release. But Jun was relentless, his ministrations driving you to the brink of madness as he expertly toyed with your bud.

And then, just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Jun's touch changed, becoming more insistent, more demanding. With a low growl, he devoured you, his tongue delving deep inside you as he consumed you like his last meal.

With a final, desperate cry, you reached the peak of ecstasy, your body convulsing with the force of your release. Jun drank in your essence greedily, his tongue working tirelessly to draw out every last drop of your pleasure.

As you eagerly anticipated his next move, Jun teased you with his cock, allowing you only the briefest of touches before pulling away again. Your frustration mounted with each fleeting contact, but Jun seemed to relish in your desperation, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he toyed with you.

"Patience, my love," he whispered, his voice dripping with desire. "Good things come to those who wait."

With a wicked grin, he finally positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. You could feel the heat of his arousal against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

And then, with a single, smooth motion, he plunged deep inside you, filling you completely. You gasped at the suddenness of his entry, your body clenching around him in ecstasy.

"God, Jun," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "I think I could cum just from the feeling of you sliding inside me."

Jun's chuckle sent shivers down your spine as he teased you, adjusting your legs to rest on his shoulders. The new angle made you feel him even deeper, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Jun murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I love seeing you like this…"

You could only nod in response, your breath hitching as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

"You're so beautiful like this, taking me so well," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I can feel how much you want me, how much you need me to fill you up."

"You're mine, all mine," he growled, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "No one else can make you feel like this, can they? Only me."

You whimpered in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure washed over you. Jun's words fueled your desire, pushing you closer to the brink of orgasm with each passing moment.

Your words tumbled out in a desperate gasp as pleasure consumed you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum, Jun!" you cried out, feeling his cock driving you to the edge. The sensation of him sliding in, wet and sharp, only intensified the pleasure coursing through you.

As you felt the knot unraveling in your belly, you came around him, your body pulsating with ecstasy. But Jun didn't stop there; he continued, spreading your legs wide as he gazed into your eyes with unwavering intensity. He captured every expression on your face, savoring the way you looked as you cummed.

pleasure crash over you. When Jun let out a choked moan, his face contorted in bliss, you felt a gulp of anticipation. His hot cum filled you, triggering another orgasm that ripped through you, causing you to squirt around him.

As his cock slipped out of you, you felt his cum mixing with yours, spilling out from within you. Jun watched you with awe, his eyes wide with amazement at the sight before him.

Jun leaned in close, his hands gently caressing your trembling body as he whispered soothing words to coax you from your orgasmic haze. He pressed soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and lips, his touch gentle and reassuring as he helped you come down from the intense high. You melted into his embrace.

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heartateasee · 2 months

Text

“Intraoffice”

ceo!harry x you

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: a handjob, some comeplay, fingering (f receiving), brief spitting and protected sex.

Plot: Your previous CEO was retiring, and Harry is taking his place. Neither of you were expecting each other to be so young, and after while, you begin to develop a flirty friendship within the workplace. One business trip causes all those feelings to come to fruition.

(I stumbled across this TikTok account the other night, and it caused me to spiral. So, this is the result of that 🤭 Big thank you to my bestie @finelinenina for giving me some ideas for this one as well 🫶🏻)

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

To say that you were going into work nervous today would be an understatement. Today was the day you were going to meet the new CEO of the company, and you were praying to whatever was above that he was kinder than the current CEO - your boss. It wasn’t that he was necessarily a mean man, Mr. Crawford, but he was older, and he liked for his assistant to not be seen or heard. He expected for you to get the job down silently, and while being invisible. It took you a little bit of time, but for the most part, you had your day down to where you and Mr. Crawford never crossed paths - something he very much appreciated.

His coffee was on his desk, as well as a print out of his meetings for the day before he even stepped foot into the office, and by the time he did, you were already behind your own desk working on other tasks. When lunchtime came, you had his lunch hot and ready, once again on his desk, before his late morning meeting finished. And then when it was time for his afternoon coffee, you snuck it into his office during his after lunch meeting.

The other assistants commented on how odd it was that Mr. Crawford made you arrange everything while he was out of his office, and you felt the same way, but it was just routine now. Hell, you had been doing it for the past four years since you were offered the position right after you had completed your internship. It was just normal now.

So this morning, you placed two cups of coffee on Mr. Crawford’s desk as you knew the replacement CEO would be with him, and you printed off two copies of the day's meetings since he would also be shadowing him all day. You didn’t really mind if the new CEO wanted you to be invisible as well, but you hoped that maybe you would start having a little bit of appreciation thrown your way instead of just being met with silence.

Just as you had turned on your heel, going to exit the office, you heard Mr. Crawford’s voice which caused your eyes to widen. He was earlier than usual today, and that caused your heart to race a bit. The last thing you needed was for him to scold you in front of your new boss.

“And just in here is where your office will be,” Mr. Crawford stepped into the doorway, and you stood there like a deer in headlights - fiddling with your fingers behind your back. “Oh, Y/N, I was hoping we’d catch you.”

You had to force off an expression of confusion at his words as you knew he was probably trying to make himself come off as a better boss. “Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’ve just placed your coffees on the desk, as well as your schedules for the day.”

“Thank you,” he nodded at you before moving out of the way, and it was as if time stood still once the man behind him was revealed. “This is Mr. Harry Styles. He’s going to be your new boss as of Monday.”

He was young - way younger than you anticipated. With cropped curls and moss colored eyes, you truly found yourself in a bit of a trance looking at him. He had plush, pillowy looking lips with a nose that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Fuck, it was honestly as if every part of him had been sculpted by the gods.

“Mr. Styles, so nice to meet you,” you extended your hand to him. “I’m Y/N. I’m looking forward to working so closely together.”

Harry smiled at you, and once he took your hand, you immediately felt a warmth spreading all over your body. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Y/N. Thank you for the coffee.”

You felt your face flush at his politeness before your hold dropped. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” you flicked your eyes between the two men before giving them a nod. “Well, Mr. Crawford, you know where to find me if you need me.”

As you went to leave the office, you could feel Harry’s eyes following you, and you peeked over your shoulder - confirming that he was indeed still staring. You subconsciously bit down on your bottom lip as you quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention from Mr. Crawford. Once you were back at your desk, you let out a deep breath as you stared at your computer screen.

Harry wasn’t at all what you were expecting, and little did you know that you weren’t what he was expecting either.

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

It had been a couple of weeks now that Harry had been your boss, and he honestly hadn’t seen or heard you much. Occasionally you would have to call into his office to let him know that he had a call, or he’d approach your desk if he needed to have a meeting rearranged, but other than that, the situation was very much like the one when you worked for Mr. Crawford.

This morning, however, Harry made it a point to get to the office almost ten minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to try to catch you, to see exactly why you had been avoiding him. He wasn’t really aware of the fact that this is how you did things previously considering Mr. Crawford seemed more than elated to have caught you during your initial introduction. He thought that maybe you didn’t like him, and if that was the case, he needed to make things right.

He greeted a few people as he walked through the lobby, heading towards his office where he hoped you’d either be, or he’d be able to already be there before you came in. As he got closer to his door, he could hear slight shuffling, and he quietly poked his head in to see you organizing his meeting schedule, while placing another stack of papers down beside it. He figured those were the contracts that had been finalized for him to sign. His coffee was still in your hand as you did this, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.

“Good morn-”

Harry couldn’t finish his greeting as a scream left your lips, and you jumped, spilling his coffee all over the front of your dress. You gasped as the hot liquid seeped through the fabric, and the paper cup was quickly dropped to the ground as you tried to pull your dress away from your chest. Thankfully you were wearing one with a high neckline so you wouldn’t be exposing yourself, but the material was a cream color, something you normally knew better than to wear given how clumsy you were.

“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed as he walked forward, and without even thinking, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, assisting you with pulling the fabric away from your skin. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” you sucked in a deep breath as the burning sensation began to fade away, and you swallowed harshly. “It’s fine. I’m a klutz anyway. I’ll make sure to get you another coffee as soon as possible. Thank god it didn’t get on your documents.”

Harry’s eyebrows narrowed as you spoke, and he shook his head. “I could care less about the documents. I’m not worried about them or another coffee. How’s your chest? Did it burn your skin?”

Your eyes darted down to where only you could see the exposed skin from you dress still being pulled, and you shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it,” you dropped your hands, causing Harry’s to leave your wrists, and the damp dress clung to your abdomen once again.

“Please, take the morning to go home and change and to regather. I can’t tell you how sorry-”

“Oh, I won’t need to go home. I keep a spare change of clothes in my desk. Like I said,” you spoke as you lifted your hand above your head before pointing down at yourself. “Klutz.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your gesture, and he pursed his lips to the side. “Alright then, how about this? You go ahead and change, and then we’ll go out for some breakfast so I can make this up to you.”

“Breakfast? But you have a meeting at-”

“Reschedule it,” Harry said as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re going to the diner down the street. You’re my new meeting.”

Your stomach formed a knot when you heard his words, and you finally found it within yourself to clamp your jaw shut. “Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ll just be a few minutes. I won’t keep you waiting long.”

“Y/N,” Harry stepped forward, and you looked up at him with round eyes. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait however long if it means you’ll feel comfortable again.”

Words escaped you at that point. This was your boss, and you had never had a man show this much concern over you before, not within the first couple weeks of knowing each other at least.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out a squeak before quickly leaving his office.

You made your way over to your desk to retrieve the extra black trousers, and the maroon colored jumper stashed away in your bottom drawer before making your way into the employee bathroom.

Pulling your stained dress up, you grimaced as it stuck to you slightly since it had just barely begun to dry. You grabbed some paper towels and ran them under the water for a few seconds before beginning to wipe over your chest, and some of your abdomen until you were rid of all the sticky substance.

You pulled on your clothes quickly, not wanting to make Harry wait too much longer, and you exited the bathroom.

Once Harry saw you back at your desk, he left his office as you made the phone call to reschedule his morning meeting to tomorrow instead since you knew he had an opening. You watched as he grabbed your dress from where you had it laying over the back of your chair- eyebrows narrowing as you saw him drape it over the crease of his arm.

You hung up the phone and placed the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing with my dress?”

Harry smirked softly before tilting his head towards the elevators. “Ready to go?”

You nodded in response, and then the two of you were down and out of the building - heading down the street.

“Which diner did you want to go to? I can call ahead and make sure a table is ready,” you stated, fumbling to get your cell out of your purse.

“That’s not necessary, Y/N. If we have to wait, we’ll wait,” Harry shrugged as he started to guide you down a side street, and you began to look around.

“Mr. Styles, I’m not trying to overstep here, but I don’t think there’s a diner down this street.”

“I’m not heading for the diner right now,” he shook his head, and you only walked a few more paces before he was opening up a door to a shop.

He lifted his eyebrows in encouragement for you to step in first as he held the door open, and you did so. Harry followed close behind, and you watched as he approached the counter.

“I’ll need this garment dry cleaned, please,” you heard him state before he was handing your dress over to the elderly woman helping him. “Do you think it could be finished by tomorrow?”

“Oh, Harry, I’ll have it done for you by this evening,” the woman cooed, reaching across the counter to pinch one of his cheeks.

You watched him smile, his deep dimples denting into his skin as he left out a soft laugh. “You’re too good to me, Muriel. We’ll be back whenever you give me a call.”

At this point, you were floored. Not only was he so apologetic about the spill that he practically begged you to join him for breakfast, now he was getting your dress dry cleaned?

Once you stepped back out onto the street, you started back in the direction you came from.

“You really didn’t need to do that,” you told him as you pursed your lips to the side. “I could’ve just taken care of it at home.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said, glancing over at you for a moment as you crossed the street. “If I hadn’t startled you, the coffee wouldn’t have been spilled, therefore, I wanted to make it right.”

“I really need you to stop blaming yourself for that,” you laughed softly as you continued down the sidewalk - not realizing where you were stepping was a bit unlevel.

It caused your ankle to slightly roll, and you let out a yelp as you tripped. You braced yourself for impact with your lids shut tight, but instead you were met with a solid chest and an arm around your waist. You blinked your eyes open to see Harry looking down at you - his eyebrows up on his forehead.

“You weren’t joking when you said you were a klutz, were you?”

You felt your cheeks flush before shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”

You both shared a chuckle as you separated, and you were grateful to see that you were approaching a diner not too long after your stumble. The last thing you needed was to trip over another uneven sidewalk, or even worse, your own feet.

Just like before at the dry cleaners, Harry held the door open for you, and you immediately walked over to the host stand - a habit of yours to just do this on your own. Any time Mr. Crawford held a dinner at a restaurant, it had always been your responsibility to make sure they knew you were checking in for their reservation.

“Hello, we’d like a table for two please,” you greeted her with a smile, and watched as she gathered a couple menus before nodding her head for you to follow.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry watching you intently, and you tried to swallow down the nerves starting to bubble in your chest. You had never seen someone look at you the way he did before. You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, to be honest, but all you knew was that it made you nervous.

The host set your menus down on the table of a booth, and you and Harry both slipped into the opposite benches. You tried your best to focus on narrowing down what you wanted, but this was an unusual circumstance. Never once were you asked by your boss to go to breakfast just the two of you, and as appreciative as you were that Harry had asked you, it was unfamiliar territory.

“Do you see something that you think you’d want?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, and you flashed your eyes up to him over the top of your menu to see that his were already on you. “If not, we can go somewhere else.”

His need to make sure you were constantly comfortable was so foreign that you could hardly wrap your head around it. You realized it had been a few moments since he had asked his question, and you had remained silent. “Oh no,” you shook your head before clearing your throat. “This is perfect. I see a couple things that are peaking my interest actually.”

Harry smiled at you, and you felt a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Get whatever you’d like.”

It was only a few minutes later that a server came over to the table, and Harry ordered a carafe of coffee for the two of you, as well as two waters before extending his hand over to you - asking you silently to order your food first.

“I’ll take the breakfast sampler, please,” you stated, looking over everything that came on it so you didn’t miss any of the options. “I’ll take one sausage and one bacon with that, sunny side up eggs with white buttered toast and hashbrown casserole, please.”

Handing your menu off to the server, you turned your attention back to Harry. His eyes were darting over the laminated paper in his hand before he looked to the server. “You know what? I’ll do the same please, but instead of the sausage and bacon, could I have a bowl of fruit with that?”

The server nodded, taking Harry’s menu as well before walking away from the table.

“For a second I thought you were going to break your vegetarian status,” you said playfully as you leaned forward onto the table - intertwining your fingers together.

Harry mimicked your actions, and you caught sight of the cross tattoo on his hand. You knew he had another right along his wrist as you could see glimpses of the ink sometimes, but you always wanted to ask him if he had any others.

“As much as I do miss bacon, I’ve been going strong for too many years to break it now,” he smirked, and you were slowly feeling more comfortable with the one on one time together.

You weren’t a nervous individual by nature, to be honest, however, you did tend to be particularly quiet. You’re sure a lot of that had to do with the fact that’s what was asked of you for the past four years. Once conversation struck, and you were interested, you could hold a proper interaction.

“Didn’t mean to tempt you,” you giggled before biting down on your bottom lip.

Harry noticed that was something you must do subconsciously, but he found it alluring.

The server came back with your two waters, two mugs and the carafe of coffee - setting it all down on the table alongside sugar packets and cream. You and Harry both went to reach for the carafe, fingers brushing against each other, and you pulled your hand back quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, dropping your hands into your lap, but Harry held that coy half smile as he poured you each a cup of coffee.

“How do you take yours?” Harry asked, as he set the carafe towards the end of the table against the wall to have it out of the way.

“Two sugars and just a splash of cream, please.”

Your eyes were fixed on his every move as you watched him pour the contents into the mug before he pushed it over your way. He pulled his own mugs towards him - not putting anything in it, as always.

“Thank you,” both of your hands cupped the warm mug, and you fought off a hum at just how wonderful the heat felt against your palms.

The hustle and bustle of the diner blanketed over the two of you, and for a minute your attention was caught by just how quickly all the servers were moving around to make sure everything was getting taken care of in a timely manner.

“Y/N,” Harry saying your name caught your attention, and you looked back over to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you gave him a nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Have I done something to make you not like me?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.

Your eyes widened at his question, and you quickly shook your head. “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”

“Well, I never see you.”

You were caught so off guard. Him not seeing you made him think you didn’t like him? You thought you were doing him a favor by not being an interruption.

“Well, I just thought that maybe Mr. Crawford had talked to you before he left, and maybe you wanted me to keep doing things the way he liked,” you explained.

“Which was?”

It was then you realized that Mr. Crawford didn’t tell Harry at all about how he really didn’t want you being present around him. It was a bit shocking to you that he wouldn’t have mentioned that, considering a lot of businessmen had that preference, and it seemed to be a little hard to find assistants who would obey that rule so well.

“He didn’t really like seeing me,” you shrugged. “Or hearing me either. That’s why I always have your coffee, schedule and any documents you may need to take care of on your desk and ready to go before you’re there. It’s also why your lunch is delivered while you’re in your late morning meeting.”

An expression you really couldn’t make out rested on Harry’s face, and since he didn’t speak, you continued.

“If I had to run things to his house after work, I’d use my key to let myself in, drop off whatever he needed, and regardless of whether or not he or his wife were home, I would be in and out. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did, it was easy.”

You watched as Harry lifted a hand to run it through the front of his curls, and you forced yourself to look away from the flex of his bicep as he did so. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that’s how you had to do things when he was around. I can promise you that’s not how you have to be with me.”

Slipping your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” you giggled before looking at him again. “It was easier with him because I had his routine down. I was guessing every day with you.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your giggle. It was hard for him to believe someone couldn’t want you to work around them and do your job properly. From the little bits of you he had been able to see, you seemed like the perfect employee.

“So with that being said,” Harry started. “I’d like my morning cup of coffee after I’ve arrived at the office.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry held up a finger to stop you. “And I’d like to prepare it myself in the kitchen with you, as you prepare your own. Then from there, we can go back to my office, and you can walk me through the meeting schedule for the day. You don’t have to worry about ordering me lunch anymore, I can take care of that myself.”

“What about your afternoon cup of coffee?” You blurted out, making Harry smile even wider than he already was.

“Can I be honest with you?” He waited for you to nod before proceeding. “I was only drinking about a quarter of it before dumping it out. Coffee that late in the day would keep me wired all night.”

“Mr. Styles,” you gasped, jaw dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It seemed a bit impolite, you know? I felt bad that you had gone through the trouble of making it for me, and I didn’t want to just waste it. It also felt wrong to tell you to stop when I thought it was something you enjoyed doing for me.”

You wanted to respond again, but the server was back - placing the appropriate sampler in front of the two of you. You both thanked them as they walked off, and you shook your head as you reviewed the newfound information from him in your head.

“Mr. Styles, I-”

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” You looked at him as he sent you one of the most gentle looks you’ve ever seen.

“You can call me Harry.”

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

In the few months that followed your breakfast “meeting” with Harry, the two of you developed a really great work relationship. The truth was, the two of you knew that this was a full on friendship as well at this point, but keeping things professional was necessary. If you texted after hours, it was about work only, and if you saw each other outside of the office, it was at work oriented events.

Regardless of that, you each had gotten in the habit of doing little things here and there for each other. You never made a big deal about it, neither of you would tell the other it was you who did it, but you both just knew.

The first time Harry did something unexpected for you was about a month after your new work agreement. That morning you had noticed that the pink peonies you had in your vase on your desk were on their last leg, and you frowned as you tossed them into the trash.

“Maybe this time I can get yellow ones,” you had told Stella, the assistant who worked at the desk right next to yours. “I wanted them the first time around, but they were all out.”

That afternoon when you came back from having lunch with Stella, you saw that your vase was full of yellow peonies. Your mouth gaped as you raced over to them, running the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. It was then you caught sight of Harry leaning against the doorway of his office out of the corner of your eye, and you looked over to him. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he gave you a smile, and you stared into his eyes as you gave him a knowing one back.

A couple of weeks ago you walked into the office on a Monday after having a relaxing weekend of self-care, and as you met Harry in the kitchen for your usual cups of coffee, you watched his eyes light up as he took you in. “You got your hair done,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“You noticed?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you asked. You were so surprised.

“Yeah,” he nodded, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip. “It looks really good, Y/N.”

You had blushed furiously that day that you were surprised you didn’t combust into flames.

The vibe between the two of you had floated over into flirting territory probably more times than it should, but you both were responsible enough not to take it any further. Sometimes the flirting involved little remarks, or long glances, and even sometimes Harry would take your breath away with a small squeeze to your hip as he moved behind you to reach for something.

You both felt incredibly comfortable around each other, but regardless of that, you had turned Harry’s invitation down for dinner at his house a couple of times. He would only ever offer when you would come by his house after work to drop something off for him, or when you needed to pick something up to be delivered over the weekend. As much as you wanted to tell him yes, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing either of you needed was someone finding out that you were spending personal time outside of work.

Of course he was the CEO, the one calling most of the shots, but he still had his own people to answer to. You didn’t want to get the two of you in trouble, and Harry didn’t either - that’s why he understood every time you would decline. No matter how many times you had rejected the offer, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to stop asking, and part of him hoped that one day would give in.

Harry had noticed so many little things about you during the time you had spent together. The way you ate crunchy cheetos with chopsticks so you didn’t get your fingers dirty while working was adorable to him, and he picked up on the way you would slightly scrunch up your nose when you were working on a spreadsheet that was proving to be troublesome.

He noticed the way you came into work each week with a different color of polish coating your impeccably manicured nails. When you told him that you did them yourself one day when he complimented the small polka dot designs you had adorning each of your ring fingers, he was floored. He had become completely infatuated with your presence - if he was going to be completely honest.

That’s why as he stood at the bar with a pint in his hand and his eyes set on you speaking with a man he didn’t recognize, he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The office had gone out for drinks at the usual spot on a Friday afternoon to celebrate an easy and successful week, and most of the time you were attached to Harry’s hip, however, there seemed to be a law firm that was also occupying said bar.

You had been speaking to this same man for about fifteen minutes now, and Harry watched as he moved slightly closer to you over time. You weren’t a very big drinker, Harry knew that. You’d always have one cocktail while out with everyone, and you’d sip on it the entire time - finishing it up just a few minutes before you’d announce you were leaving.

So, when Harry saw the man gesturing to your drink, clearly asking if you’d like another, his hand tensed around his cold glass before he brought it up to take a large swig of his beer.

He saw that you politely declined, and luckily the man honored it and didn't push. If he had, there’d be a serious problem.

For the remaining hour that you both were at the bar, Harry had managed to get himself properly wasted. It made him sick to watch you openly flirt with some else when all he wanted to do was to be able to do that with you.

It wasn’t until you walked over to the bar to stand next to Stella for a moment to pay your tab that the man walked back over to his friends. Harry watched him closely, and his stomach churned as he watched the way the man tapped each of his colleagues and pointed at you. The men surrounding him, both younger and older, eyed you up and down like a piece of meat.

Harry quickly asked to pay his tab, scribbling a hefty tip and his signature on the receipt just in time as he saw you walking back over to the asshole who had every ounce of your attention. After what Harry had just seen him do, there was no way he was going to let you leave with him.

Just as the man was beginning to ask for just your number, Harry practically stumbled up next to you, and your eyes widened as you quickly wrapped an arm around his torso - having him fully lean into your side.

“Harry, you alright?” You asked with narrowed brows.

As you studied him, you could see that he was more drunk than you had ever seen him. Hell, you had really only seen him tipsy before. This was extremely out of the ordinary for him.

“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he slurred just slightly, but he still managed to stay poised. “Jus’ wanted to come and check on you.”

Your eyes flitted over to the man, and you sent him a weak smile. “This your boyfriend?” The man asked, and you heard Harry try to stifle a laugh in the back of his throat before you saw a look take over his eyes - as if a light switch had gone off.

“Actually, I am,” Harry nodded, and your lips parted at that response. “I am Y/N’s boyfriend, and if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time we went home.”

The man scoffed, and Harry watched as his eyes now looked over you with disgust. “Pretty cheap of you to flirt with me for the past hour when your boyfriend’s in the same building, but I guess I kind of understand if he gets this wasted and ignores you all night.”

“Hey, that’s enough!” You snapped, speaking up before Harry had a chance to - even though his mouth was open to do so. His body was clearly working on a delayed system. “You don’t get to speak about him like you know him. You don’t know him at all.”

Shaking your head, you tightened your arm around Harry’s waist as he threw one of his around your shoulders, and as you began to walk away, Harry turned his head to look at the man with a smirk.

“Oh, and one more thing!” You spoke up as you turned around, talking a bit louder so the man could hear you over the music, causing the attention from some of the other patrons to be on you. “Your cologne fucking reeks - smells like a cat pissed all over your suit.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he let out the loudest cackle you had heard within your time together as you pushed open the front door to the bar. As you headed down the street, you could barely walk in a straight line due to having your tall British boss clinging to your side.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” You told him as you approached your car that was parallel parked on the street. Using your free hand, you fished your keys from your purse and unlocked the car before helping Harry into the passenger seat.

Once he was good and buckled, you shut the door and rounded over to your side. You slipped inside and turned on the car as you felt Harry’s eyes lingering on the side of your face.

“Let me know if you’re going to get sick or something, alright? I’ve never seen you drink this much before,” you commented as you pulled out of your spot and started down the roads towards his house.

Harry didn’t live too far from here, probably around five minutes maximum, so you really didn’t mind taking him home.

“Yeah, but ‘m not gonna get sick. I have an iron stomach,” Harry stated as he patted his palm against his covered abdomen. “Haven’t puked from drinking in years.”

The car ride was silent except for the light music playing on the radio, and at first you thought Harry had fallen asleep, but when you glanced over, he was just staring at his hands in his lap.

Once you pulled into his driveway, you got out and went over to his side to assist him - supporting him in almost every way as you stepped up onto his porch. You got his keys out of his suit jacket to unlock the door before the two of you were heading inside.

“Didn’t like that guy talking to you,” Harry mumbled as you tossed his keys into the bowl on the table near the door.

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” you laughed sarcastically. You weren’t irritated by any means, but it was all just a little confusing to you why he was acting that way. “Called yourself my boyfriend.”

Harry hummed as he nodded, as you started up his stairs to where you knew his bedroom was. “I could be, you know?”

“What?” You looked over at him quickly, stopping the progress you were making on the stairs.

You soon realized that was a big mistake as Harry started to sway, and your eyes widened as you started leaning backwards. “Okay, hey!” You exclaimed, pulling him forward again before continuing to walk. “About sent us down the damn stairs, Harry.”

“I said, I could be your boyfriend,” Harry repeated himself, completely ignoring the almost tumble once you got him into his bedroom.

“Alright, big guy,” you couldn’t help but let out an actual giggle now as you patted him on the chest. “I’m going to lay you out some pajamas, and you’re going to change while I go downstairs and get you some medicine and some water. Then I’m gonna get you tucked in and leave.”

“I mean it,” Harry’s eyebrows narrowed, clearly offended even in his drunken state that you weren’t taking him seriously. “I like you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you’re bright - you light up a whole room when you walk into it.”

Never once did you know that’s how he felt, but you obviously couldn’t be sure given his current alcohol level. “Harry,” you said softly as you guided him to sit on the end of his bed. “We can talk about this more when you’re sober, alright?”

You almost felt guilty. If this really was how he felt, you were sure this wouldn’t be the type of situation for him to tell you. You knew how Harry was just from the little things he had done for you over your time together. He was sentimental, and he treasured when things were genuine. This isn’t how he would want this to go.

“No, no,” Harry reached forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him which caused you to gasp. He rested his forehead against your stomach, but you kept your arms limp by your sides. “The thing is, ‘m too much of a coward to tell you when I’m sober. Never been so intimidated by someone in my life.”

You? Intimidating?

Yeah, he was definitely letting the pints and shots he had do the talking.

“Look, I can initiate the conversation next time we see each other that way we can ease into it, but you’re going to regret doing this right now.”

Lifting his head, Harry stared up at you with his droopy green eyes. He moved one hand to rest on your hip, while his other just barely reached to wrap around the back of your neck. “Thought about kissing you,” his lips rolled into his mouth for just a moment before continuing to speak. “Think about it all the time.”

The truth was, you had thought about kissing him too, and you’re sure if you were the one spilling your guts right now, you’d use the same phrasing - you thought about it all the time.

“Come on, H,” the nickname you rarely used slipped from your mouth as you tried to calm him down a bit more. “Let me get you some pajamas so you can change.”

You wrapped your hands around each of his wrists to break his hold on you, and you walked over to his dresser to pull out a pair of joggers and a shirt.

By the time you turned around, Harry was on his back still fully clothed with his mouth wide open. In the twenty seconds it had taken you to get him proper pajamas, he had passed out.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you mumbled as you walked back over to him, tossing the pajamas onto the top of the dresser before doing so.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you untied each of his shoes and slipped them off of his feet before tossing them to the side. You stood up, tugging his body around so you could at least get his suit jacket off. Unfortunately, the rest of it would be staying on. You didn’t feel comfortable changing him without his permission as this situation had never happened before.

With every bit of strength you could muster up, you pulled Harry further back onto the bed so that his head was on one of his pillows, and you tucked him underneath the sheets.

You went downstairs to grab the glass of water that you had talked about before, as well as two Tylenol and a granola bar. Going up to his bedroom one last time, you placed all the items onto his nightstand, and retrieved his phone out of his jacket pocket to plug it in before you exited the house all together.

You weren’t sure if Harry was going to remember this evening or not. And you weren’t really sure if you wanted him to.

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

“Y/N, are you almost ready?” You heard Harry’s voice, followed by a tapping of knuckles against your hotel room door.

You and Harry were out of town for a work event, and you were just putting the finishing touches on your look, however, you hadn’t been able to put your dress on yet as you just finished curling your hair.

Making sure that your robe was tied securely around you, you walked over to the door and opened it - your jaw immediately dropping as you saw how delicious Harry looked in his suit.

“Oh my,” you gasped before you could stop yourself, but once your eyes met his, you cleared your throat. “You look spectacular, Harry.”

You could see a pink tint washing over his cheeks, and it was then you noticed the garment bag he had draped over the crease of one of his arms.

“Thank you,” he smiled before tilting his chin towards the bag. “I know you probably brought your own dress, but I saw this the other day when I picked up my suit, and it reminded me of you.”

You watched as he extended the garment bag to you, and you shook your head. “Harry, I don’t know if I could-”

“Please, Y/N, it would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it. If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to.”

You wanted to ask how he knew your size, but you figured he made a mental note when taking your dress to the dry cleaners that one day.

Sucking in a deep breath, you took the bag from him. “I just need to change and then I’m ready to go.”

Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you down in the lobby. Do you want me to order you a quick drink?”

“That’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’ll have a drink at the event.”

Harry knew that would probably be the only one you’d have for the evening given your track record. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

You kept your eyes on Harry’s retreating frame as he walked down the hotel hallway, and you sighed as you shut the door.

It had been a few weeks since Harry’s confession after the bar. When you saw him at work on Monday, he apologized profusely for how drunk he had gotten, but he also thanked you for getting him home. You didn’t want to just flat out ask if he remembered what happened by reciting exactly what he said, so you asked him if he remembered almost pulling the both of you down the stairs instead.

That’s when he confessed he didn’t remember a thing after approaching you at the bar. Since he didn’t remember anything, you decided that you’d leave it. It was probably for the best anyway, and you didn’t want to embarrass him.

But the truth was, Harry lied.

He remembered everything, which shocked him given how drunk he was, and he was so ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe that he rambled to you about how he felt, how he wanted to be your boyfriend. Not to mention he spilled that he thought about kissing you all the time.

Harry knew it was wrong to lie to you, considering it wasn’t like you could forget what happened. Technically neither could he, but at least he could act like he did.

The fact that you accepted the dress made him happy. There had been a weight in his chest since everything happened because things didn’t feel like they used to between the two of you, and he had no one to blame for that by himself. He didn’t lie about how he came to find the dress though. He really did see it in the window a couple shops down from where he got his suit. He just hoped that you liked it.

Leaning against the bar in the lobby, Harry had ordered himself a short glass of tequila on the rocks - just something to ease his nerves as he waited for you. He was hoping the fact that it was just the two of you on this trip that things could go back to the way they were. You were here together for the weekend, just arriving today and then heading home Monday morning.

He missed the playful banter between the two of you, but most of all, he missed your giggles. He had only heard one or two since that night, and it was eating away at him that he was the reason they went away.

Just as he was sipping the rest of his drink, he heard the clicking of heels against the tiled floor of the lobby, and he turned to look towards the elevators.

Harry thought he was going to fall through the floor just at the sight of you in that dress. He watched as your eyes searched around before falling onto him, and you sent him a small smile as you started to make your way over.

“Wow, Y/N,” Harry met you halfway, having finished off his drink and already paid his tab. “You're stunning.”

You knew you were blushing due to his compliment, so you tried your best to change the subject off of your appearance.

“Let’s just hope I make it through the night without breaking an ankle in these heels,” you joked, causing a soft laugh to leave Harry.

“I’ll make sure you’re steady on your feet, don’t worry.”

You each took a moment to take each other in once more before Harry was extending his arm out to you. “Shall we? The car is waiting out front for us.”

Your eyes dwelled on his arm for a moment before you closed the gap between the two of you completely, cupping the crease of his elbow as he started to lead you towards the doors of the hotel.

Once outside, the driver opened the back door of the car, and when he went to extend his hand for you to take for assistance while getting in, Harry made it a point to stand right in front of him and offer you his hand instead. You couldn’t fight the small smirk that pushed its way forward, and you took Harry’s hand before entering the back seat.

You slid all the way over, watching as Harry got in right behind you, and the driver shut the door.

“Didn’t want him holding my hand?” You asked, raising a brow.

Harry rubbed his hand along the back of his neck before shrugging. “I guess not.”

It reminded you of him saying he didn’t like that man talking to you at the bar, and for some reason, the thought of him being jealous over you caused a new feeling to ignite in your stomach.

Did it turn you on?

You were drawn out of your thoughts as you heard the driver’s side door shut, and you started off towards the event venue.

“Nervous?” You questioned, knowing this was Harry’s first big event since taking on his position.

“A little bit, yeah.”

But not because of the event. He was nervous because of you.

“Me too,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t been to an event like this in a while. I’d come along with Mr. Crawford, but I’d stay at the hotel.”

Harry’s brows narrowed. “He didn’t allow you to accompany him?”

“No, not seen and not heard, remember?” You shrugged. “It’s okay though. I used to just order a bunch of room service, or I’d pay the hotel spa a little visit. He covered all the expenses which was the silver lining.”

“But still. That’s awful to make you travel all this way for you not to be able to participate in the main reason for coming.”

“To be honest, I probably would’ve had a terrible time. He was no fun,” you laughed softly, causing a small smile to grace Harry’s lips. “Not like you.”

“You think I’m fun?” Harry tilted his head to the side playfully.

“Definitely the most fun boss I’ve ever had. But I’ve only had one other than Mr. Crawford, and that was when I worked at a clothing store,” you joked.

“You wanna know a secret?” Harry asked.

Your stomach swirled a little bit at his question, but you nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ve never been a boss before. I wasn’t CEO at my last office even though I was practically doing the job. The other guy just got to be the face for all my hard work.”

“Oh my god, Harry, that’s awful,” you shook your head. “That’s seriously messed up.”

“It was, but I would’ve never left had I actually been the CEO, therefore, I would’ve never met you,” the words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could process, and you watched as his eyes widened.

His slip up caused your heart to flutter, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get too giddy over it. Harry made it clear that his confession that one night was just drunk rambling, so it was clear your affection wasn’t reciprocated in the same manner.

“Very true,” you decided to finally respond after a moment. “I could’ve had another Mr. Crawford if it weren’t for you.”

The conversation came to an end as you approached the venue, and Harry got out of the car first - extending his hand out just like he had when you got in. You took it, and once you were out of the car, he offered you his arm just like he had back at the hotel, and your hand once again made its home in the crease of his elbow.

The two of you walked into the building, and when you saw just how many people there were, you subconsciously curled yourself into Harry’s side a little more.

“Lots of people, yeah?” Harry asked, and he turned his head to look down at you. Even with your heels, he still stood taller.

Biting down your bottom lip, the two of you ran your eyes over each other's faces before you answered. “Mhmm.”

You noticed the way that Harry’s eyes focused in on your mouth, and for the first time, you wished he’d actually kiss you. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours, but you knew it was wishful thinking.

“Mr. Styles!” The call of his name caused the two of you to separate, and you looked over to see the investor who had invited you to this event. “And Y/N, you look amazing.”

The man placed his hand on your hip, and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes flitted over to Harry as he did so, and you could see his fists flexing by his side.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Noble,” you said once he pulled away from you. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“Of course, Harry here was also very insistent that you be joining him, even though it was already my intention to have you here.”

You could see Harry’s cheeks flush as Mr. Noble spoke, and you knew that wasn’t necessarily something he wanted you to know.

“Well still, I appreciate it very much.”

Mr. Noble nodded before extending his hand behind him. “Bar is all the way in the back, and there’s servers walking around with hor-d’oeuvres, so please, help yourselves.”

Once he walked away, you looked over to Harry. “Should we get ourselves some drinks?”

“Sure,” Harry placed his hand along your lower back as you made your way through the sea of people.

Just the smallest touch from him could warrant butterflies flying in your tummy, and as much as you loved it, you also hated it. You hated it because you knew those butterflies would never lead to anything. Sometimes you wondered if you’d be stuck with this stupid crush on your boss forever.

“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked you once you approached the bar, and you knew you needed something strong to ease your mind.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised at that, and part of him wanted to question you about it, but he decided against it.

“A tequila on the rocks, and a whiskey on the rocks, please,” he spoke to the bartender for the two of you, and you turned your attention to the floor of people conversing around you.

It wasn’t until you felt the side of Harry’s finger gliding against the outside of your arm that you looked back to him, and you saw he was extending your drink out to you.

“Thank you.”

You took it from him, taking a large sip to start which caused you to wince.

“Everything okay?” Harry’s face showed his concern.

“Just a lot of people,” you repeated his observation from earlier, and even though Harry didn’t believe you, he let it be.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in ten minutes!” The announcement rang overhead, and you felt Harry’s hand against your back once more.

“We should find our seats.”

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

You ended up having another whiskey, which Harry knew was extremely unusual for you, and it caused him to worry. Even though you still seemed just fine, he didn’t want you overdoing it. You had mentioned to him once that you didn’t like the feeling of being drunk, and that’s why you only ever stuck to one drink.

The event had wrapped up, and you and Harry found yourselves back in the lobby of your hotel.

“Feeling okay?” Harry checked in on you as he pressed the up button for the elevator, and you nodded.

“Just fine,” you answered, which was the truth.

The extra drink didn’t have you feeling very different, it was just helping you calm those nerves that had been wracking your system for the past few hours.

As you both stepped into the elevator, you ran your hands over your dress which had you realizing you hadn’t thanked Harry for buying it for you.

“This dress is so beautiful, Harry,” you told him, and he looked over at you as you did. “Thank you for buying it for me. I know it must have been expensive.”

Harry waved his hand in the air softly while the other stayed tucked into his pocket. “I didn’t even think about that when buying it for you. Just saw it and knew you had to have it.”

“It’s probably the prettiest piece of clothing I own now,” you laughed, which brought a smile to his face.

The elevator doors opened, and you both started towards your rooms which were right next to each other. After fishing your room key out of your clutch, you turned to face Harry for a moment.

“I had a really good time this evening. I hope that you did too.”

“I did,” Harry nodded. “It was nice seeing them raise all that money for charity, and I was happy to be a part of it.”

Part of you hoped he would have complimented the company he had instead of just speaking about work, but you didn’t know why you had expected that to begin with.

He’s your boss. That’s all.

You had thought for a moment there that it was maybe leading to something more, but with the way Harry had been acting ever since the night you took him home, you knew that was no longer the case.

“Well, goodnight,” you said softly, forcing a smile on your lips before swiping your key and entering your room.

Your mood was officially deflated, and you hated that you felt that way. You had no right to. You indulged too far into the fantasy you had created in your head. You had no one to blame for that but yourself.

Sighing, you tossed your clutch onto the dresser with your room key before heading into the bathroom. You reached your hands behind you to pull down the zipper, but it wasn’t budging.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed as you turned and looked over your shoulder in the mirror so you could properly see the zipper, and it was then you noticed it was caught on the fabric of your dress.

You closed your eyes as you took in a deep breath as the realization that you were going to have to ask Harry for help dawned on you.

Grabbing your room key, you walked out of your room and over to his door. You had your fist raised above the wooden surface for a few seconds before you finally found the courage to knock. At first you didn’t hear anything, and you thought maybe he was in the shower and couldn’t hear you. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock again, in case he had heard it and was ignoring you, but just as you turned to walk back to your room, you heard the door open.

You looked over to see him standing in the doorway, and you couldn’t help but drop your jaw as you saw that he was just wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips.

Your eyes ran over the ink that was etched into his skin, particularly the ones that draped over his hips, and the large butterfly on his stomach.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, clearing your throat once you forced yourself to look at only his eyes. “My…my zipper. It’s caught.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped to the side. “Come on in - let me have a look.”

You walked into his room, and you glanced into the bathroom to see that his toiletry bag was open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stated, figuring he was just about to get in the shower.

“Nonsense, Y/N, you’re not bothering me. There’s no need to apologize. Turn around so I can see.”

Swallowing harshly, you turned around and brought all your hair over one of your shoulders so he had proper access to the zipper. You soon felt his hands on you, one cupping your ribcage while the other fiddled with the zipper.

“Oh, I see,” he mumbled, and you knew he was mostly talking to himself.

His hand gave your ribcage a small squeeze before he brought it up to meet the other one. You felt a bit of tugging for a few seconds before the sound of the zipper being pulled down filled your ears, and you felt the dress loosening against your torso.

“There you go,” Harry whispered, and you felt his fingertips dancing along the tops of your shoulders.

You kept your back to him, looking at him over your shoulder as you licked over your bottom lip. By the look in his eyes, you could tell he was pondering over something, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself before speaking.

“Are you thinking of kissing me?”

Harry’s lips parted at your words, and you held a hand up against the top of your dress to keep it in place as you turned to face him.

“You told me you think about it all the time that night,” you told him, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “And I should have told you that I think about it too.”

Stepping forward, Harry got rid of all the space between the two of you as he brought a hand up to cradle your chin in his palm. “Y/N, please don’t be playing with me.”

You shook your head as you let your freehand glide over the forearm of the hand connected to your face. “I’m not, Harry. I know it’s wrong, and that we’d be stepping over a line, but I can’t help it. I’m so enamored by you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Harry moved his face forward, but you felt him tilting your head to the side - giving him full access to one of the sides of your neck. His lips grazed your skin, and as little as the contact was, you couldn’t stop the moan that left you.

“Please,” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around his wrist and giving it a squeeze. “Please, Harry.”

It was then that his lips fully connected to your neck, and he kissed his way down over the top of your shoulder. Your fingers dented his skin as he then made his way back up to your jawline. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“You,” it came out as a whine unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. You were a woman blinded by your want for him. “I need you.”

All time stood still as Harry’s mouth finally met yours - causing you to let out a small gasp. He took this as an invitation to seal his lips around your bottom one, and he lightly sucked it into his mouth. Another moan left you, and it was then you moved your hand from your chest - your dress falling to the ground around your heeled feet as you pressed your body against his.

Harry’s hands then grazed down your body until they met the rounds of your ass, kneading them softly before he dropped them lower to the back of your thighs. He was then lifting you off the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist - ankles crossed along his lower back as he walked you over to his bed, and you kicked your heels off your feet.

He laid you down gently right in the middle of the bed, and you finally opened your eyes to see him hovering over you. His eyes were drinking you, and you could tell he was admiring your breasts as they heaved up and down from the deep breaths you had to remind yourself to take. His cross pendant swung back and forth before resting against your chest when he leaned down to place another sweltering kiss on your mouth.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Something that you had imagined in your mind for so long was now becoming a reality.

Your hands trembled as you brought them up to rest on his pecs, and you could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard as yours.

“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” Harry pulled away from your lips with a soft smack, and you couldn’t help but panic at his words. “I lied.”

You waited a moment before speaking. “You lied about what?”

“That night. I do remember confessing everything to you, but I was so embarrassed that it felt better for me to act like I had forgotten it. I was so nervous that I had ruined everything, and I thought lying would make things okay. I was wrong for doing that.”

“And you meant what you said?”

Harry nodded. “Meant every fucking word. I’m crazy about you.”

This time you initated the kiss as you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck, and you brought his mouth down against yours once more.

Your other hand journeyed down his chiseled chest to the waistband of his joggers, and you tugged at them - signaling that you wanted them off. Your eyes were closed as you felt him moving around, but they shot open when you could feel his hard length resting against your stomach. You had expected him to be wearing underwear.

Disconnecting your mouths, you looked down to see his cock - hard and leaking against your skin.

“Sorry,” he blushed furiously as you briefly looked up at him before looking back down. “I’m just so turned on right now. I’ve thought about this for so long.”

“Me too,” you nodded, running your tongue along your cheek before you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft.

Keeping your eyes on his face, you watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing deepened once you began to work your hand over him. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” You let your hand leave him for just a second to spit into your palm before you started your movements right back up. “Can’t even fit my hand around you, Harry. You’re so big.”

Your dirty talk shocked him. For someone so quiet and reserved in the office, you sure did have a way of speaking in the bedroom.

“Pretty little hand just squeezing me, hm?” Harry knew he could dish it right back to you - the thought of the two of you going back and forth causing another blurt of precome to drip from his leaky slit. “I could come just from this, to be honest. Fucked my fist so many times thinking about you. Felt wrong to moan your name, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Thought about me while touching yourself?” You earned a nod from Harry in response. “Thought about you too when I’d have my toy sucking on my clit. I always pictured it was your perfect lips playing with me. I would moan your name too. I had to. I could only get off when thinking of you.”

“Who knew you were so dirty?” Harry chuckled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. My little minx.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, but you nodded as well. “Just yours. Only want to be yours.”

Your hand began to work him faster, and you moved your free hand down to swipe your fingers along the precome that was continuously dripping onto your stomach. Harry’s eyes were glued to your every move, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you smeared his arousal over his lips before slipping your fingers between your own.

“So yummy,” you commented as you held his eyes. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”

“Fuck,” Harry groaned before licking over his lips. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Please,” you mimicked your plea from earlier. “I want it all over my tummy.”

“Want me painting your skin with my come?”

“Again, I need you to,” you moved your legs around to where one of Harry’s toned thighs was pressed right against your covered cunt.

You began to rock your hips back and forth, a hardy moan flooding out of your throat as you did so. Your clit was throbbing - begging for attention as your hand continued to glide up and down Harry’s prick.

“Oh my god,” Harry gasped, and you looked up just in time to see his eyes shutting again with a slack jaw. “For fuck’s sake.”

It was then you felt his come shooting out, coating your stomach and even reaching up to your breasts as you rode him through his orgasm. Once you knew he was finished, you couldn’t help but tighten your hand once more, and you watched as you milked another string of come from him.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry dropped his forehead against you, but he kept his torso hovering yours.

Still mesmerized by his load on your stomach, you didn’t even notice his hand had slipped between your legs until you felt his fingers gliding through your drenched folds - your underwear tenting around his hand.

“Oh,” you whimpered, tossing your head back. “Feels good.”

“Barely touching you, baby,” Harry chuckled as he used his index and middle fingers to spread you apart - the pad of his thumb pressing down against your pulsing clit.

You moaned as he began to move his digit in circles, and your eyes followed him as he leaned down. Sticking out his tongue, he licked over your nipples, cleaning up his come as he sucked on them. It caused you to clench down around nothing, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“Yes,” you gasped as his teeth grazed against the pebbled bud.

“Like having your little nipples played with, honey?” Harry asked, smirking up at you. “Pretty little things they are. I knew they would be. Pretty nipples, and a pretty pink pussy. Never seen something as pretty as you in my life.”

“And I’ve never seen something as pretty as you,” you breathed as he started giving attention to your other nipple as well.

Soon his mouth had worked to clean all of his come off of your skin, and it was then that he moved his hand around to have his middle and ring fingers slipping inside of your welcoming entrance while his other hand pulled your underwear off.

“Christ, Y/N,” Harry groaned, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“It’s been a while,” you confessed as you bucked your hips up against his hand - feeling the heel of his palm against your clit.

“How long?” Harry began to move his fingers with more purpose, and you choked as a moan got stuck in your throat.

“Three…three years.”

Harry’s movement stilled, evoking a whine from you as you snaked your hips around.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you swallowed, using this little pause to try and catch your breath. “Haven’t had anyone since my last boyfriend. I don’t go out much, and I don’t like dating apps. I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet anyone.”

Harry leaned down to massage his lips against yours briefly before pulling back - knocking his nose against yours. “I’m about to give your the best fucking of your life, you understand?”

Another moan left you at his words, and you nodded. “Please.”

Harry’s fingers left you, and he got off the bed to walk over to his wallet on top of the dresser. You watched as he retrieved the square foil package from it before he climbed back onto the bed over you.

“You’re sure about this?” Harry asked. “This…this changes everything.”

“I’m sure,” you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Harry. I know that I want this.”

“I’ve wanted you too, Y/N. You have no idea how badly.”

You heard the sound of the package opening, and you looked down to watch Harry roll the rubber over his length - him having grown fully hard once again.

“Ready?” Harry lined himself up with your entrance, and you felt his head pressing just lightly against your fluttering hole.

“Yes, yes. Please, fuck me.”

With the angling of his hips forward, Harry’s tip entered you, and you groaned as you felt him stretching you completely.

“Gotta relax, honey,” Harry’s hands reached down to massage your hips. “Breathe in with me. I’ll count. One, two, three, four, five.”

You each let the deep breath back out, and he smiled down at you.

“Again,” he instructed you, but this time, he began sinking his length inside of you as he spoke each number. “One, two, three, four, five.”

Eventually he bottomed out completely, sheathed inside your warm cunt, and you felt yourself clench down around him.

“You’re so big,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps. “Never had anything this big inside me before.”

“Never? Not even a toy?” Harry asked as he drew his hips back before thrusting in again.

“No,” you shook your head. “My biggest is hardly half your size. I’m not the biggest fan of dildos or vibrators. My suction toy gets me off just fine.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that too much anymore,” Harry laughed as his hands now cupped your breasts. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every damn day.”

He gave you three aggressive thrusts as he spoke those last three words, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yes.”

“That sound good to you, baby?” Harry started up a steady pace - his balls slapping against your rear entrance as he did so. “Have you coming on my fingers, my tongue or my cock every day? You’re never going to go without, understand?”

“Mhmm,” you mewled, arching your tits further into his palms. “I understand.”

For a few moments, only soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the sound of your skin slapping together as Harry satiated your sexual hunger. You had never been fucked like this before in your life. He was taking you with such precision - each of his thrusts filled with a purpose. The purpose being to get you off by any means necessary.

“You know what else I’ve thought about?” Harry asked after capturing your lips in a brief kiss. “Thought about taking you in my office, especially on those days where you wear those tight pencil skirts, or those flowy dresses, and I think about bending you over my desk - taking you from behind.”

“Yeah?” You stared up at him. “Thought about taking you at work too. I thought about - uh - riding you as you sit in your desk chair, and I wouldn’t even care if people heard. I see the way Darlene in marketing looks at you. I’d want her to know it was me who got to have your cock.”

Your words caused Harry to give you an extra hard thrust, and you could feel his tip punching against your most sensitive spot.

“I would hope they all hear,” Harry tilted his head down, spitting against your clit before beginning to use the tips of his fingers to play with it. “Hope they all know it’s me who gets to fuck you this good.”

“Promise me,” your hands found their way to Harry’s back, and you dragged your nails down his skin. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in your office first thing Tuesday morning. I’ll wear my prettiest underwear - just for you.”

“Better be just for me,” Harry growled as he smacked your wet pearl. “I’m the only one who gets this cunt now.”

“The only one,” you agreed. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

“And I only want you. God, I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve finally got you underneath me.”

“Want to stay underneath you,” you babbled as you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach. “Harry, I’m close.”

Harry’s fingers applied more pressure to your clit, and it was then that your orgasm washed over you. You could feel yourself gushing past Harry’s covered cock - your body trembling as your knees squeezed against his hips.

“Oh my god,” your head lulled to the side as you started to come back down. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

“Look so pretty when you come,” Harry shook his head, still not believing that he was seeing you like this. “It’s a fucking honor to see something as gorgeous as that.”

You started to lift your hips up to meet his movements, and you could feel yourself clenching down around him again. If he kept this up, you’d definitely be having another orgasm before you were finished.

“You feel so good around my cock, Y/N. Never had a cunt fit me so perfectly. Take a look.”

One of Harry’s hands cupped the back of your neck, and he sat up just a bit as he pulled your head up. You peered down, spreading your legs further as you watched his thick cock glide in and out of you.

“Look at that,” you bit down on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving you as you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. “Just clinging to you, huh?”

Harry hummed in response, and you could feel his thrusts growing a bit uneven. “I’m about to come, baby.”

“Me too. I’m going to come again, Harry. I want you to come with me.”

After a few more thrusts, you felt absolute pleasure blanket over you for the second time, and you watched as your orgasm coated him completely. It was then you looked up to see Harry’s face contorting once again, and this time he looked even more glorious than before as he emptied himself inside of the condom.

Making sure that you both rode your highs out completely, Harry continued his movements for just a few more seconds before he collapsed on top of you.

Your bodies were sticky with sweat as you clung to each other, and your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. This all felt so right - that the both of you were exactly where you needed to be in each other’s arms

You opened your eyes when you felt Harry’s head tilting up, and you both smiled at each other. “Hi,” he said, fingertips dipping into the ridges of your ribs.

“Hi,” you giggled, and you saw his face brighten even more at that.

“I missed that sound,” he told you. “It’s one of my favorite things.”

“Well, I think you’ll be hearing a lot of it now,” you smirked, pushing some of his curls off his forehead.

“I can’t wait.”

Harry gave you a quick kiss as he pulled out, and he helped you into the bathroom before giving you privacy to clean yourself up. He discarded the condom in the trash can before slipping back into his joggers.

Once you were out of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes ran over your naked form as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck to bring him down for another kiss as Harry rested his hands against your hips.

“So, I guess now if someone at the bar asks if you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to lie this time,” you teased.

“Oh yeah?” Harry’s smirk that you’ve come to love so much crept its way into his lips. “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “If you want to be.”

“Are you kidding me? Been dying to be able to say that and actually have it be real. I wanna fucking tell everyone that I’m yours, but I’ll make sure we’re careful at the office. It’ll all work out.”

You both shared another kiss before you just hovered your lips over his.

“So…round two?”

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tlouadditc · 10 months

Text

to the brim ... <3

dom!abby x fem!sub!reader

!! not my pic !!

warnings: fluff + smut [MDNI and MEN DNI.] modern!au / no apocalypse, established relationship, softdom!abby [?], i couldnt think of good gifts dont mind it, abby is a gamer confirmed bc i said so, breeding [duh], abby has a breeding strap, filthy talk omg :(( ah!! i think thats it

a/n: ever since i read @seattlesellie's ellie breeding fic... i've been a changed woman. so here's my take on abby! p.s.: no desc. of hair, skin color, size, etc. :) this is also kinda long but enjoy my loves!

you and abby had been together for around 3 long, happy years. the happiest years, you could say. it was weird; you never thought you'd end up like this. never.. imagined being happy with someone, especially someone as outgoing and brave as abby. you were complete opposites, you being more introverted and kept to yourself while abby was loud and proud. even the way she asked you out [buying you your favorite flowers, making you dinner, AND two cute little matching rings] was memorable and creative. you've always loved everything about her.

today, in present time, is your anniversary. every year, you attempt to top the last year. always remembering little details and bookmarking whatever she sent you just for this moment. abby's currently at her office job; "busiest day of the year, but i'll be back in time for dinner," she explained earlier that morning. "promise!" you take this as an opportunity to buy her gifts and plan out a romantic dinner for the night.

lately, she's been wanting these lego flower sets [specifically the orchid ones since they reminded her of you.. :,)], so you quickly bought one. that isn't enough, you think, so you also get custom lego keychains of both of you, making them both wear wedding dresses and smile as bright as the sun. while you're at it, you get her favorite cake, chocolate with strawberry sprinkles, and have "happy 3rd anniversary, my love" on the top. you smile as you reach your apartment, already visualizing her surprised face. i'll get her this year, you think as you step inside.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

hours later, you hear a slight knock knock knock on the door. perfect timing, you think, quickly fixing your hair and looking over your outfit. you're wearing a black maxi dress, tight-fitting over your curves, but simple in style. it's kinda casual, but abby insisted on staying home. "it's for my surprise," she argued, a smirk forming on her face as she said it. she always had some quick trick up her sleeve, but you're even quicker.

well. most of the time.

you peek in the peephole, and there she is. she's wearing her glasses today [her bluelight ones you bought for her your last anniversary since she always complained about her headaches], dressed in all black and her hair flowing down her shoulders. her hands hold onto the handle of a medium sized, deep red giftbag. she probably feels your eyes on her, because flashes a pearly smile up to the small opening. no matter how much she smiles, you never get tired of it. you quickly unlock the door and open it widely.

her pale skin turns a slight dusty shade of pink as she looks you up in down, lovingly taking in your beauty. her mouth opens to say something, but all that comes out is a soft, "hi, baby," before she pulls you into a tight hug, exhaling as she wraps her toned arms around you. she feels like.. like something familiar, but nothing you've ever felt before. something comforting. like home.

she pulls back, placing her hands on either cheek. her eyes move back and forth from one eye to another, almost as if she's trying to read your mind, hear your thoughts. "missed you so much, bun." she leans in, giving you two small pecks on the lips before pulling you into one last hug.

"missed you more abs," you murmur, "more than you'd ever know."

she pulls back, smiling as you mirror her expression. after a couple of seconds, she finally looks around the apartment. "babe?" she questions, clearly in shock. there's big, red heart balloons and her favorite candles are lit all around. she's completely enveloped in the candlelit room, gasping when she looks down and sees rose petals scattered beautifully on the wooden floor. you see her eyes lock onto two red, nicely wrapped gifts on the coffee table. "oh. my god," she looks from the living room back to you, astonished. "no, you didn't."

"oh, yes i did," you giggle as you close and lock the front door. she walks carefully over the fresh rose petals into the living room. she sits on the couch, looking up at you with doe eyes. "babe, if this is what i think it is..." she pauses and exhales. all you can do is smile; your excitement cannot be contained. "open them up!" you cheer, sitting down in the armchair beside the sofa.

she picks up the smaller box, cautiously shaking it. she was always great at guessing your gifts. but this time, she furrows her brows in confusion. she shakes it once more, a little harder this time, deep thought written across her sharp face. the scrunch in her nose makes you laugh a bit. "is it.." she starts, but cuts herself off. "i don't know.. actually."

you shrug, "then open it, babe." she sighs before accepting defeat and opening the small package. as soon as she gets the paper off, she gasps and looks up at you. "oh my god!" she exclaims. "wait, are these-" she looks back at the package, back at you, and holds it up to your face. "oh my god! it's us!"

you smile and laugh while she gushes over the fact they look exactly like you two. "how did they get my hair perfect? and the little dresses! i mean, look at it, oh my god." she admires them silently for a few seconds before uttering, "this is gonna be us, bun. i promise."

the uncontrollable urge to smile takes over your face, making your cheeks hurt a bit. she's muttering a thousand "thank you"s before opening the next one; the one you're the most excited about. she's been talking about this since last year, but she never had the time to get it or start it, matter of fact.

she tears the paper once again, immediately stopping in her tracks. her eyes move up to you once again and her jaw goes slack. "oh my FUCKING god," she yells, ripping the rest of the paper off. it's almost like she's a child again; the way her face lights up makes your entire day worth while. she proceeds to nerd out over the set once again, "this is so... oh my goodness i can't even explain how excited i am. thank you so much babe... wow.. i got so lucky..."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

you made her favorite dinner that night, having it freshly prepared for her and still warm on the stove. she just rambles about how she's the luckiest woman in the world to have a beautiful girlfriend and how much she loves you. she continues this throughout the entire meal, making sure she can treat you with the same treatment whenever she can; wiping your cheek when anything got on your face, getting you whatever you needed with no questions asked.. anything. basically, your everyday treatment with her.

after dinner, you both sit on the sofa, talking about your days. mid-conversation, abby randomly gasps.

"and then he was li- uhm... abby?"

"oh my god. i almost forgot!"

"what? what's the matter?"

"your gift!!"

she practically jumps out of her seat, striding over to the counter where she left the giftbag. "can't believe i forgot my gift for my special girl." she scoffs at herself and sits while handing you the bag. it's not heavy, but it's also not lightweight. you scan through your memories of things you've mentioned to her: cats, a wedding ring, books... but it didn't seem like any of that stuff was in here.

you give up, opening the top and looking inside. your jaw drops. you see a long, light pink box. there's fancy gold lettering across the front that you can't read. you take the box out, and unwrap the ribbon bow from around it. as you lift the top up, you see plush flowers and.. a small hello kitty stuffed animal in between the flowers. you squeal as you put the bag down and hug abby tightly, muttering thankyouthankyouthankyou!! all she does is smile and whisper "of course, princess." you think that's it before you realize there's a small pink card and a even smaller box inside the bag.

confused, you pick up the card and analyze the cover. it's a baby princess themed card; such an abby thing to do. you glance over at her to crack a smile, but you realize she has on that devilish smirk plastered across her face. uh oh, you think. "why're you smiling like that, babe?"

"like what?" her smirk grows wider.

that's even more 'abby' like than the card.

you roll your eyes jokingly before deciding to open the card up. inside, there's a paragraph written:

"dear y/n,

happy 3rd anniversary, my love! i'm so glad you're in my life, even after all this time. you'll always be special to me and i see that we will grow old together. i know you've been wanting that bouquet for a while, but i noticed you've been obsessed with something more.."

you glance up at abby once again. she's watching your reaction with that same smirk. what is she up to? you continue to read:

"i hope you noticed the cover of the card; of course, you're my princess, and you always will be. but i always see you looking at baby clothes when we're out, gushing over baby videos at home, etc etc. and even though we technically can't make one.. i can still give you the experience. ;) love your [nonofficial] wife, abby"

you feel your face heat up as you close the card. abby's large, warm hand suddenly starts stroking your leg through the dress, jolting you back to reality. she chuckles, whispering, "mm, you want that, right? you want me to knock you up?" she's getting closer, her hot breath hitting your neck, making you shudder. "want me to fill you to the brim, baby? hm?"

she's kissing your neck, small pecks turning into full-on hickeys. she loves the way you whimper and squirm, the way you turn your head to give her more access. "i'll take that as a yes," she breathes, a small laugh leaving her mouth. her hand travels from your leg, up to your neck and chin, making you turn and kiss her.

"so pretty like this," she coos in between kisses. she's lost in your big eyes, your noises; lost in you. she toys with the thin straps of your dress, subtly signaling to take it off. you, of course, rush to peel it off. after you do so, you're almost completely naked while she's completely clothed. the drastic difference makes you feel small under her predatory gaze. she taps her thigh twice and demands, "come here, princess."

you straddle her lap, your clothed cunt slightly gaining friction against her pants, making you whimper. "such pretty noises," she murmurs, mostly to herself. her hands rest nicely on your sides, right above your hips. "so, tell me," she starts. "how you wanna do this, mama?"

the new nickname makes you feel a slight heartbeat in between your legs. "oh, you liked that, huh?" she comments, smirking as she looks up at your pretty little face. "well, if you want me to take control, i'll do it. i'll do whatever you want, mama."

"use me," you blurt out, desperately needing her right at that moment. you move your hips back and forth, grinding against her crotch to relieve the ache in between your thighs. abby lets out a breathy laugh, "oh, you want it that bad? god, you're so cute."

before you can respond, she's wrapping her arm around your waist and standing up. you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck out of instinct. she's walking you to the bedroom, just like her little princess.

when she gets into the room, she lays you on your back, legs behind held back by her large hands pinning them under your armpits. your breath is shaky, heartbeat practically bulging out of your chest. she leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck alllll the way down to your bellybutton. "f-fuck, abby," you shudder, her face getting closer and closer to your heat. "what's wrong?" she asks, "what you need, baby?"

"need you inside," you beg, not caring how pathetic you sound now. "oh, i know, baby," she coos, "but i wanna make this special for you, okay? no rushing. just us."

you appreciate her genuine care with your intimate experiences with her, but at this point, the ache was growing more and more painful as time went on. you whine, moving one of the hands pinning your leg to your cunt. "please, abs. need it."

"fuck, babe," her voice is low and husky, almost a growl. "okay, okay, i got you, mkay? i'll treat you right, promise."

her pointer finger ghosts over your swollen clit, forcing a small moan out. small little circles stimulate your bud, drenching your already soaked panties. she groans, "always so wet f'me, my god." as if she can't take it anymore, she practically rips off the small cloth off your aching pussy. the cold air meeting the warmth of your core makes you gasp, squeezing your thighs together in response.

abby's warmth comes back and divorces your legs apart, pinning them back to where they were originally. "gonna take such good care of you, mama," she mutters, kissing your inner thighs. after what feels like an eternity of teasing, she finally lays small, short kitten licks on your cunt. the small feeling of her warm muscle against your clit relieves the burning ache in your core, but only for a second. she lays a flat tongue, collecting your slick as she moves up. your small "oh"s egg her on, fueling her ego as she spreads your lips apart and latches onto your bud. your moans grow louder and louder, legs slightly trembling from how good it felt. little did you know, she's getting off on your pretty little reactions; she's moaning against your bud, vibrations making your legs shake even more.

"ffffuck-," you cry out, gripping the sheets from pleasure. the vibrations send you over the edge, the familiar tingly feeling in your abdomen unraveling. "m'cumming- oh my god," you wail, attempting to close your legs to get away from abby's tongue. her hands grip your thighs, forcing them apart once again. she continues to suck on your clit, overstimulating you. "t-too much - fuck!"

your juices and her saliva mix, coating the bottom of her chin. she finally unlatches from your sensitive, swollen bud and wipes her chin. "sorry, bun," she says, heavily breathing, "you just taste so goddamn sweet, i had to!"

as abby starts to walk away [you assume it's to help you clean up so you guys can sleep], you slowly drift away into a deep sleep..

"nuh uh, 'm not done with you, mama."

your eyes force open, eyes immediately landing on abby's bare chest. she was almost never topless around you - except when you two showered together - but it wasn't a norm in the house. you unintentionally whisper, "you're so beautiful," causing a wide smile to go across abby's kind face. "thank you, baby," she replied, "c'mere." she patted the edge of the bed. her usual black strap was buckled on, intimidating you from the end of the bed.

you crawl to the edge, sitting on your feet when you reach abby. she giggles, "get on your back, babe. you know the drill." you follow her orders, slightly chuckling at your mistake. as she lines herself up with your slit, she caresses your face, just telling you how much she loves you; "love you so much, bun. i'm so lucky to have you, y'know that, right?" she peppers small pecks along your face in between, smiling at your perfect face.

"'m gonna go all in, okay? jus' let me know when i can move," she warns. you nod, slightly nervous. the strap seemed bigger than usual; a bit wider too. it made you think she'd rip you apart with this thing! but as she bottomed out, the sharp painful sensation was short lived and replaced with a more pleasant sensation, the feeling of being full. and not just full, but full of her.

you start to slightly grind on her cock, trying to get any pleasure. the desperate motion making abby smirk and slam into you again, this time earning a loud, pathetic yelp from you. she continues to slam into you, holding your hips for leverage. "yea, keep makin' those pretty sounds for me," she groans, almost in an animalistic way. all you can do is tell her how good you feel, hands gripping onto her toned biceps.

she brings a hand down, right over your abdomen, pressing slightly. "you feel me right there, yea?" there's a slight bulge where her strap is; the sight makes you drool slightly. you nod feverishly, focusing on her voice and her dick pounding into you. her hips snap back and forth, squishing sounds filling the dimly lit room.

she, on the other hand, is hyper-focused on watching the black silicone disappear inside your gushing cunt, a vague white ring forming around the base of her cock. the sight alone has her pussydrunk and practically forming a pool in between her thighs. "such a messy fucking cunt," she murmurs. "wish i could fucking - shit - fill that little pussy up."

your moans become louder, your grip tightening on the meat of her muscles. your head goes back, putting the hickeys she gave you on full display. "oh, you fucking like that, huh?" she places both hands on either side of your head, still fucking you at a relentless pace. every thrust she does, her tits bounce slightly in front of you. her hair frames her face perfectly, the sweat beads racing down her skin as she pounds into you.

"holy fuck," you whimper. her cock, buried deep inside your greedy little cunt, hits that spongy spot inside of you, making you go insane. she smirks, she knows what she's doing. "what? speak up, princess," she speaks, a mocking tone laced in her words.

"s-so good," a choked moan cuts you short.

"you like the way 'm fucking you? like the way that dick got you going crazy, huh?"

a string of yesyesyes's is all you can get out, too lost in your own pleasure.

"wan' me to fuck my baby into you?" she's out of breath, start to whimper, but she doesn't slow down or stop. she just keeps. on. pounding. she's chasing her orgasm, clit bumping against the base of the strap. you're just a wailing, helpless mess under her, begging for her to cum into you. "i need it, p-please, abs!"

she moans loudly as her thrusts get sloppier, slowing down slightly. you feel a thick liquid unleash into your hole, filling you up. the new feeling causing you to gasp, looking down at where you two met. abby fully pulls out after a few seconds, when a gush of white liquid slowly drips out of your stuffed cunt. she whispers, "fuck, that's a pretty sight to see." using one hand, she spreads you open, your fucked-out hole on display, just for her.

you're still trying to steady your breathing, getting more tired by the second. abby sits on the bed next to you, pulling you into her lap. she caresses your face once again, "did so good f'me, baby. happy anniversary." she kisses your forehead, cuddling you close to her body. before you fully fall asleep, she picks you up, bridal style.

"wh- what are you doing?" you question, half asleep.

"gotta clean you up, babe." she giggles at your sleepy voice.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

after a long, warm bubble bath together and a small cleaning session, you and abby finally lay back on the couch to watch a movie and cuddle.

"y'know what, babe?" she asks, shoveling chocolate cake into her mouth.

"what?"

"i wish i could actually get you pregnant."

you slightly giggle at that, "me too."

"i also want to marry you. really badly." she's looking at your face now, reading into your soul.

"we should get married," you speak, thoughtfully. what's the point of her bringing this u-

she gets up unexpectedly, walking over to your giftbag. confused, you ask, "what's up?" she pulls out that small box you saw earlier. "oh, nothing.." she walks in front of you, then dips down onto one knee.

you gasp. is this really happening? right here right now?? someone pinch me.

"y/n, you've made me the happiest woman on earth for the past 3 years we've been together. not to mention the first 4 of us being friends. now, i'm not gonna give a long, sappy speech during this amazing moment," she slightly chuckles, "but i want to ask you.. will you be my wife?" she opens the box, a shiny ring glistening in the light.

you can't see it that well since tears well up in your eyes. you could've never asked for anyone better than abby. she's made you a better person overall. she's been there for you, even in your darkest times. you nod, wiping your tears.

she's slightly chuckling, which you don't realize until your eyes clear. it's.. a minecraft ring. specifically a minecraft rose on a thick band of gold. you laugh and let her slide it on your ring finger.

"i'm sorry," she's still giggling as she gets up from the floor, "i saw this while i was out and i was like 'this is perfect.'" you're also giggling, "it is perfect. thank you, baby."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

a/n: abby's such a jokester! anyway hope u guys enjoyed this took forever!

taglist: @unicycl @xnoviee @aouiaa @akenosimp167 @njplatesruler [if you're striked out, i can't tag u!! :(]

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson #the last of us smut #tlou fic #abby anderson x female reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #tlou smut #tlou2 smut

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hawnks · 2 months

Text

It’s not a date. You make that known, loud and clear from the outset.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gojo murmurs absently. “Whatever you say sweetie.”

It’s not a date when he picks you up from your apartment. It’s not a date when he insists you change out of your ratty sweats, or when he buys you a new outfit to his exacting standards (how did he know your measurements?).

It’s not a date when he treats you to Fancy Lunch, or when he splits his desert with you, feeding you from his own fork.

It’s not a date when he takes your hand, doesn’t let go.

And it’s definitely not a date when you finally arrive at the luxury leathergoods store, the whole point of this outing. He hovers around you, watching. He seems to be waiting on you to do something, but since he’s the one who insisted on this you’re not sure what he wants.

Finally he’s had enough of you floundering.

“Pick one,” he murmurs, eyes bright as he corals you to the collar section.

Suddenly your throat is dry as you look down the long row of them. Shiny and bold. Precious. “You want me to… pick a collar for you?”

He’s watching you, keen and hungry. He’s so close you can feel the heat of him all along your side where he’s huddled against you.

Collars have a huge significance to omegas, but you’re not quite in tune with their cultural meaning. Something about ownership, claim. You feel like you should reject this, whatever he’s trying to do here. It’s not right, and you’re not right for each other. This is a job for someone who knows what they’re doing, and besides that, someone of his social standing. You should tell him as much.

But you don’t.

You spend long minutes poring over the options. Feeling the material, testing it’s texture. Careful, you choose one with a soft inner lining, that won’t catch on the neck of his button downs, that won’t chafe when he’s running around. A subtle color, unobtrusive in his loud, bold life.

(He doesn’t ask you to put it on him, knowing, somehow that it would be too much for you, cause you to recede into your shell. He can be patient.)

It’s still not a date.

So you have no reason to be pissy when yet another alpha taps him on the shoulder, says some cheesy line about his eyes.

Gojo just snorts, rolling his eyes, not even gracing the man with a response as he pulls you along down the sidewalk, talking about what to get for dinner.

But this is the fourth time it’s happened today, and you feel like you’ve reached your limit.

You yank out of his grasp.

Immediately, he makes a grab for your hand again, scowling when you pull away, no longer acquiescing to his whims.

“What?” he demands, “What is it?”

“You could be a little more put off by it,” you say finally. It sounds petulant even to your own ears. “Like… offended, or whatever.”

It takes him a second to realize what you’re talking about.

“Comes with the territory, sweetheart,” he drawls. He’s smiling, but you can tell he’s unhappy with your peevishness. Why are you denying him? Are you disturbed by what he is, too? “Omega and all that.”

You shift on your feet, uncomfortable with your own discomfort. “How often do alphas hit on you, anyway?”

He freezes. Grins. “Are you jealous?”

You can’t even get out a denial before he’s grabbing you, spinning you both in a bear hug. “Holy shit that’s so hot, baby,” he moans.

He’s got you by the shoulders as he starts dragging you down a side street, not at all in the direction of the station you were supposed to part ways at.

“Gojo, what are you doing?”

“Making it up to you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “I think I saw a hotel this way earlier.”

#omega!gojo #cw a/b/o #I just think his eyes would roll back in his head and he would moan SO LOUD if he ever found you’re jealous :/#heinous man

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yangbbokari · 9 months

Text

Skz makes a bet on you Maknae Line

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x f!Reader

Genre, AU: angst ofc, lovers to exes!AU

Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, many mentions of insecurities. I think that abt it

Summary: you happened to learn one day that the never really loved you and only made a bet with the other members to see if you would fall in love with them

A.N: Not proof read at all and this is the maknae line to the previous one. Both part twos will be coming out soo I promise🤭

Parts: Hyung Line Part 2

HAN JISUNG It was his birthday and you were more than happy to surprise him. The members were in on it too. To suddenly stop during practice and sit him down.

For the whole day you were preparing. Making a cheesecake for him and baking a cake for the rest of the members. You decorated the cheesecake in some little quokka cake pops. After you were done, you began cooking his favorite meals and packing them up. When all the cooking, making, and cooking was done, you found that you had more time on your hands. So you felt the need to clean the house so it’d be all tidy when he got back.

You checked the time before heading out. The house was clean, food was ready, now all you needed to do was get a gift and drive to the company. As you strolled through the store a very particular item caught your eye. A small clip earring with a feather at the end. It was perfect. Jisung always called you his, quote on quote, “Little Dove.”

So you grabbed it and put it in a little box with a bow.

You drove to the company excitedly. Giving the food to the staff before making your way to the practice room. You were just about to step in when you heard it. The color drained form your face and the excitement you held earlier, gone.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year since me and y/n started dating and we made that bet.” You heard your boyfriend say.

Bang Chan tried to stop him. “Jisung, I think—”

“You guys have to remember! We made a bet to see if I could pull y/n. Y’all made me go up to her and ask if she wanted to date me because she seemed lonely and if she agreed then I’d get 20 bucks from each of y’all.”

You could hear the boys try to stop him since they knew you were here but it was too late. They turned to see the door to the practice room slowly creak open. Standing there with the cake in your hands and tears in your eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Baby.” You said as tears fell from your eyes. Quickly wiping them away since it was supposed to be a happy occasion. Placing the cake into a staff members hands, you shoved the box into your pocket. “I-I-I guess I’ll give you what you want for your birthday gift.” You turned and ran as far as you can. Dropping the gift into the trash can on your way out. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LEE FELIX He knew you were this insecure so how could he say that. You’d always hated your figure since before you could remember. Whenever you met someone new, that was the first thing they noticed. The size of your body. You hated the way you looked but Felix always told you different. He made you believe you were as beautiful as you are and you slowly gained your confidence.

That was until today. The confidence he helped you build, he tore down himself.

Today, you came home a bit earlier than usual. When walking through the door, you announced your arrival but Felix was nowhere in sight. You could hear the slight mumbling coming from another room. You had forgotten. He had told you that Minho was coming this morning.

After taking off your shoes and hanging your coat, you walked over to the door. Just so happening to hear what they were conversing. The cat-like boy began first. “You remember that bet we made?”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend replied.

“You’ve got to give it to me that you and y/n started dating in the first place.” “Ohhh!!! That’s what you’re talking about. The bet, right?”

“Yeah, when I told you I’d give you one hundo if you got the fat girl’s number. Now it’s been two years since you guys started dating.” Too immersed in your own shock, you dropped the items you were holding. Tears filled your eyes. Both, Felix and Minho’s, heads jerked in your direction.

“Y/n? How long have you been standing there?” Felix asked you in a panic.

“N-not long…”

You picked up your things from the floor, reput on your shoes and coat, grabbed your keys, and headed out the door. You didn’t know if you could stay any longer. You felt hurt to hear that. He helped you through your insecurities just to make it worse than before he arrived. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ KIM SEUNGMIN Your whole world fell apart. And so did your oh so perfect relationship with Seungmin.

It was just a petty argument that came from stress and the lack of sleep but it still hurt you. It actually hurt more than you thought it would. But what hurt most of all was what you had to find out.

Seungmin returned home after tour extremely tired so you did your best. You made sure he had every meal and wasn't overwhelmed. But apparently, you didn't do enough. He began to berate you for even the smallest things and it tore your heart apart.

One day, as you laid on the bed the two of you shared, he slammed the bedroom door open. You flinched and looked up at him. A little bit annoyed you asked, "The hell was that for?"

He sighed and glared at you.

"You want to know? This comeback has been stressful and all you do is lay in bed all day. You never clean around the house even though you're only doing a part-time job. I mean seriously, are you just going to be that FUCKING LAZY!?"

You looked at him in disbelief. Never in a million years did you ever expect to see this side of him.

"I literally just got done cooking and came to lay on the bed. I was waiting for YOU to get home. I washed our clothes, folded them, put them away, then cleaned around the house. I did all this because I know you like your place tidy. Plus, a clean space is better for the mind."

"You call this clean!? It looks like a pigsty." You felt the tears blazing at the corner of your eyes. "Don't fucking say that. I'm trying my best to not say anything right now." "Say it then!!" He yelled. You huffed and turned away not wanting to argue any longer. "Yeah... turn away like you always do. I should've just left you as a bet. Never loved you in the first place."

It was a slip of the tongue. He didn't mean it. Or did he? Either way, it hurt you. Seungmin knew he was wrong but didin't want to admit itin the heat of the moment.

You turned to face him, finally letting the tears out. "Fuck you..." Was all you said before grabbing your phone and leaving the house. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ YANG JEONGIN It was accidental. Jeongin was so flustered in the moment that he confessed everything to you. He didn't intend for you to find out like this but how else were you suppose to?

The both of you were at dinner with the other members. They all teased Jeongin for being such a simp for you. You just chuckled at their antics. It was cute to see the youngest member get teased by his hyungs and you were glad to witness it all in first person.

Jeongin, being fed up, accidentaly let it slip.

"Well it was because you guys made a bet with me that if I could pull y/n then y'all would buy me the new Bruno Mars album."

Everyone went silent as you slowly faced him. "What did you say..?"

Jeongin immediately placed a hand over his mouth. Tears brimmed your eyes. You stood up, excusing yourself. "I-I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." None of them even tried to stop you. They knew that they'd be devastated in your situation too.

Were you being a little dramatic? The answer was yes. You could've heard Jeongin out instead of hiding in the bathroom. But at this point, you weren't so sure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ taglist: @lolareadsimagines @garrixer-06 @bandolls @chansbabygirlsstuff @camilagonzalex @mariteez @beccaskz

#skz angst #skz x reader #kim seungmin x reader #skz #felix lee #felix lee yongbok #han jisung #yang jeongin #seungmin angst #han jisung angst #felix angst #jeongin angst #skz making a bet on you #skz maknae line

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watchmegetobsessed · 11 months

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LOVE AND TOUR

A/N: im so excited to post this fic bc *drum roll* it's a collab with @harrysfolklore !! the post tour depression is still kicking our butts so we decided to team up for a story that features LOT! hope you guys will like it and as always, make sure to head over to her blog to check out her fic that features all social media posts for this story!

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SUMMARY: Y/N and Harry were once friends, but his career pulled them apart. Then in 2019 Harry decides to invite her to ONO London and so their story begins or more like continues.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

2010

The handmade banner hanging over the white board in the classroom is crooked and two balloons have popped already. The sign reads ‘Good luck, Harry!’ and every letter is a different color. The desks and chairs were pushed to the side to make room in the middle and the teacher’s desk is full of snacks and drinks the kids brought in for the little impromptu party the class decided to throw before Harry’s big day.

He is going to his big X Factor audition this weekend and though he is not convinced he will make it, everyone in school is rooting for him. If anyone deserves the success it’s Harry, the goofy, kind boy who makes everyone smile and always helps whenever he can.

The soon-to-be rockstar is mingling with his friends and classmates, music is playing in the background and the chatting is nonstop. Everyone keeps asking Harry if he’s nervous or ready or which judge he is afraid of the most. He tries his best to talk to everyone and be everywhere, though he keeps an eye on one specific girl.

Y/N has been staying in the back for most of the time, sipping on some soda, listening to her friend as he enjoys the spotlight. She’s been friends with Y/N for quite some time, they live just a street away from each other, they often bike to school together and whenever one of them is sick the other one can be expected to show up at their house with the homework.

Good friends. That’s what they are. But deep down, Y/N is definitely feeling more than just friendship towards the curly haired boy who is now set to step his foot on the road to fame.

When the party is over and everyone has headed home already, Harry and Y/N are the last ones to walk out of the school’s building.

“So, be honest, are you nervous?” she asks as they are walking home , pushing their bikes this time. Harry said he hurt his ankle at PE today so he better not get on the bike, but in reality… he is just trying to spend more time with Y/N.

“Kind of, yeah,” he admits with a chuckle.

“I’m sure you will crush it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she smiles at him and his heart skips a beat.

Harry has been trying to work up his courage to ask Y/N out since probably the sixth grade, but he just never got to the point. Now he tells himself that if he gets into X Factor she will see him in a different light and that’s when he should ask her out, but little does he know he doesn’t need to be in a talent show to have her like him enough to want him.

Reaching her house she wishes him good luck and even hugs him before he waves goodbye and continues his way home. Y/N stands by their front door and watches him get farther away, hoping that whatever happens that weekend won’t change their friendship.

2013

The tour bus is quiet, everyone is asleep. Everyone, except Harry.

Lying in his bunk bed, his face is illuminated by his phone as he aimlessly scrolls on his social media apps, checking out posts by fans, reading news, just killing time. He knew he shouldn’t have had a nap earlier, because now it will be way too late by the time he can fall asleep and won’t be rested enough when they arrive in the next city.

He opens up Instagram and goes through his feed, he posts a picture he took of the crowd at the show the other day and then watches the likes flood in like crazy.

Going back to his feed he goes through his friends’ posts, it’s just the usual, parties, vacations, hanging out, everyone seems to be living their life even though Harry often feels like time has stopped since he’s gotten on the road.

He can feel himself growing sleepier and he is just about to put his phone down when he comes across a post that wakes him up.

Y/N is not one to post often, she is not like most girls he knows who want to share every and any moment of their life. Last time she uploaded something was probably weeks ago. This time she was snapped in her graduation gown, her hair flowing in the movement flawlessly and he recognizes her parents’ home in the background. It totally slipped Harry’s mind that in a life he left behind graduation was happening these days.

He scrolls down to the caption and all it says is “Soon” and then a crown emoji. It’s enough for him to know she’s going to King’s College London, that’s what she always dreamed about and it seems like she hasn’t changed her mind.

Before he could think about it, he double taps on the picture liking it, completely oblivious to how fans can see his activity and they instantly start guessing about who the girl is whose graduation photo was liked by Harry Styles.

2014

The screaming intensifies wherever Harry goes on the stage, he is jumping and shaking his long hair to the music while his bandmates are singing ‘Steal My Girl’ and the girls are going crazy, the energies are insane, Harry loves performing, this is truly his element.

He’s been on the road for what feels like forever and if you asked him what day it was, he would have no idea. It’s a miracle he knows which city he is currently in.

Walking to the side of the stage he stops for a moment right before the bridge that’s his part. He lifts his mic to his lips and starts singing when the music dies down right before his lines.

“She knows, she knows, that I never let her down before…”

His voice fills up the stadium, thousands are singing together with him and he runs his gaze over the sea of people in front of him. He sees so many faces, some are even familiar, Harry tends to remember fans he sees over and over again at their concerts, but most of them are new. The song carries on and the boys start singing along with him, Harry is about to move back to the middle of the stage, but then he sees her.

He sees Y/N.

Or so he thinks. It’s hard to tell, because it’s dark and she is so far away from the stage, it could be just someone who resembles her, but something in his gut tells him it’s her.

He does a double take, losing the familiar face for a moment but then he finds her again and a shiver runs down his spine. He hasn’t seen her in years, life has been simply way too hectic to keep in touch, last time he met her was probably in 2012 when he went home for Christmas, they ran into each other in town and promised to talk soon because they were both kind of in a hurry, but they never followed up with it. Y/N went to college, Harry’s career was skyrocketing, it was impossible to stay as close as they were before X Factor and Harry always regretted not trying harder, because now he has no idea what’s happening in her life.

Niall walks up to him and pats him on the back and Harry’s focus shifts to his friend for just a moment, but it’s enough to not find her again when he looks back at the audience. Did she duck down? Walk out when she realized he was looking? Or did he just entirely imagine seeing her and it was just a mirage?

He can’t get her out of his head for the rest of the show and he finds himself looking for her over and over again, but he doesn’t see her again and his consciousness starts to convince him she wasn’t even there.

It was just a cruel trick his own mind played on him.

2019

Why does he feel like he is sending out an invitation to the Queen of England? Why is he so nervous to hit send on an email? This is nothing Earth shattering, nothing will happen if he sends it out and life will go on even if she never replies.

One Night Only is set to happen in a few weeks and Harry is now sending out his invitations to his friends and family, he wants everyone who matters to be there on such a big night. Making the list was no hard task, but then he thought of inviting Y/N as well even though they haven’t talked in so long.

The other night, Harry found himself stalking her Instagram which he is still following. She has been posting once or twice a month, tiny glimpses into her life that doesn’t include Harry anymore.

But he wants to change that.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles under his breath and then adds her to the list of people who will get the invitation and then he just hits send and it’s officially out there.

Harry is not necessarily one to get overly obsessive about something, but the next few days he finds himself checking his inbox every hour, scrolling through the new emails, looking for one particular address to show up, but he has to come to the conclusion every time that Y/N hasn’t answered.

Days go by, Harry’s enthusiasm fades and by the end of the week he is convinced she won’t be there and soon he doesn’t even have time to think about it.

One Night Only arrives to London in december. The venue fills up with excited and devoted fans, but no one is more nervous about tonight than Harry.

He is ready, his band is ready, everything is perfectly in place, but he knows he won’t feel fully calm until he is on stage, performing to the people who gave him this amazing life.

It all goes as planned, Fine Line is finally officially out there (it has been for about a week if we are being exact) and Harry couldn’t be happier. Coming off the stage he is still high on adrenaline, taking all the congratulations the crew and guests are giving him relentlessly. His smile is so wide, it’s starting to hurt his face, but it’s a pain he could happily deal with for the rest of his life.

He hugs his mum and sister, all his old friends, they do a group hug with the band and he is sure he has greeted everyone by now, but then he spots one specific figure in the back of the room.

At first he thinks he is just imagining it. That his mind is playing the same trick on him it did a few years ago when he thought he saw Y/N at one of their concerts. Blinking a couple of times he is ready to watch her disappear like a ghost, but as the seconds go by he realizes that she is truly there.

Y/N is standing across the room with a nervous smile, looking all grown up and most importantly fucking beautiful. Even though Harry has seen plenty of pictures of her from recent times, it’s still a shock to have her stand in the same room as him.

His body moves before his brain could process it. His feet start to carry him towards her and before he even realizes he is running and when he finally reaches her he wraps her in his arms, twirling her around, making both of them laugh.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, still hugging her even when he has put her down.

“I am, you invited me!” she chuckles and they finally lean back enough to look at each other.

“I know, but… you never replied, I didn’t think you’d come and… You are actually here,” he repeats.

“Sorry I didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure until the very last minute if I would come,” she admits nervously.

Harry’s invitation was all she could think about since the morning she got the email. It was more than unexpected, for a moment she even thought it was just some kind of prank, but it came from Harry's old email address, so she had to believe that it was genuine. She hesitated until probably a few days ago when she woke up one day and just knew that she had to be here tonight.

“It’s okay,” he smiles at her softly, taking in her every feature. The girl he knew is still there, but she changed a lot, she looks so much more mature and her features have definitely gotten a lot more feminine.

She looks gorgeous.

Suddenly it all comes down on him clashing, all the questions, the feelings, he wants to know everything, but he fears they don’t have enough time.

“How long are you staying?” he then asks.

“I took a couple of days off, I’m staying for three more days.”

He sighs in relief.

“Come on,” he smiles, his hand taking hers. “I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” she chuckles, ignoring the tingles wherever his hand is touching hers.

“Harry, don’t assault the poor girl! She almost didn’t come!” Gemma chimes in. Harry stops, his eyes snapping back and forth between Y/N and his sister.

“Wait, you knew she would be coming?” he asks Gemma, who is sipping on some champagne with a knowing smile. She shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” he scoffs, hands on his hips. The sight makes Y/N laugh, because she can see his sixteen year-old self in the pose so vividly, it’s insane.

“You never asked,” Gemma says and walks away. Harry turns back to Y/N.

“She messaged me if I got your invitation,” she admits.

“So you’re telling me, all I should have done is to send you a message and ask for confirmation?”

Y/N just chuckles, shrugging her shoulders innocently. Harry exhales as he shakes his head.

“Alright, now you truly have to tell me everything.”

2020

“Can you hear me?” Harry asks, as the FaceTime finally loads and Y/N’s pixelated face fills his phone’s screen. He leans back on his plush couch and he tries his best to ignore how fast his heart starts pounding in his chest when he hears her laugh.

“Yeah, I can hear you,” she answers and it seems like she just sat down somewhere too.

Struggling with the unstable connection they share how their day has been so far, though Harry has been up just for a few hours while Y/N’s is almost over. The time difference has been making it hard for them to keep in touch, but Harry has learned his lesson and he bends his schedule around these talks, because there’s no way he would waste even a moment he could spend talking to her.

ONO and the days that followed changed everything. It didn’t take long for Harry to realize that his boyish crush is still very much present and after seeing her it quickly evolved into something more mature. Seemingly, Y/N has been sharing these feelings, because it appears she enjoys spending time with Harry in any way possible just as much as he does.

It took them quite some time to catch up and it feels like they still haven’t shared everything they missed in each other’s life in the past years, but they know they have all the time they need, even if the circumstances might not always be the best. They are both trying their best.

There’s a comfortable silence in their call where both of them are just staring at each other through the screen. The unsaid things have been hanging there between them, they know it’s more than just their old friendship rekindled, but saying the words out through a FaceTime call wouldn’t be right.

“I miss you,” Harry finds himself mumbling the words, kind of to himself, but she hears the words.

“I miss you too,” she replies, biting her lip as she adjusts the phone in her hands.

“Can I… Can I see you before I go on tour?”

“That’s like… in three weeks,” she chuckles.

“I know. But I want to see you.”

“I don’t know, I have a regular, mundane job, I’m not an international rockstar who can just travel whenever it’s convenient,” she reminds him jokingly.

“Okay, then let me visit you.”

“You’re way too busy to come here.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

She gasps at his words, the pink clouds so thick around her mind it’s almost sickening. If only she could reach out and through the screen…

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow and if you still think the same, we can… figure something out,” she smiles shyly. Harry knows he’ll feel the same tomorrow and the day after and forever. So he just smiles and nods.

They chat some more until Harry has to leave. Unwillingly, but they end the call and return to their separate lives.

Y/N stays on her couch, her phone still in her hands and Harry on her mind. Her TV is on, but it’s been muted, the screen is the only thing illuminating her in the dark room. With a tired sigh she reaches for the remote and turns the volume back on.

The news are on. She stands from the couch and starts cleaning up, not even listening to what they are talking about on the screen.

“... therefore COVID-19 has been officially declared a pandemic. WHO warns everyone to wear a mask in all public places, countries with a high number of cases are urgently discussing what other safety measures should…”

Y/N is questioning her sanity. She has been for the past week that was spent packing her suitcase, she took three covid tests in the last two days and now she is about to board a private jet at an airport that’s scarily empty. The last part shouldn’t be surprising, the whole world is under lockdown because of the pandemic, Y/N has spent her last month isolated in her apartment, right until one day Harry begged her to fly over to him.

“Y/N, please. I will settle everything, I’ll send a private jet for you, pay for it all, just please… please come here and be with me!”

There’s probably nothing she can deny from him. So here she is, escorted onto a private jet by an airport worker, they are both wearing their masks, just like everyone she has seen in the past week preparing for her travel.

Just as she settles in her seat on the jet, her phone buzzes from a text.

HARRY: Everything alright? Are you boarding already?

With a smile hidden under her mask she types her reply.

Y/N: On the plane, we’re taking off in 10.

HARRY: I can’t wait to see you.

Last time she traveled overseas was for a vacation years ago. She flew commercial then and it felt like hell, wedged between an obnoxious little boy and a middle aged woman who complained about everything. Now it’s just her and literally one single stewardess who is there to serve her. It’s a whole different experience for sure.

Luckily, the journey feels a lot shorter when she’s comfortable, she can get up anytime and eat excellent food instead of some weird frozen meal on a plastic plate. By the time the jet touches down she feels rested and most importantly excited to see Harry again. It feels like forever when they had to say goodbye in december and in all honesty, it took them way longer to reunite, but it’s all because of the pandemic. It’s late april now, they were planning to meet about a month ago originally at the end of march before his tour was set to kick off. By now he was supposed to be on the road through Europe, but instead, he has been under lockdown just like the rest of the world.

She walks through LAX as if it was zombie land, it’s so eerily empty she is expecting zombies to round the corner any minute, but it never happens. She reaches the car waiting for her, the driver loads her begs to the trunk and then they are off to Harry’s place.

It’s her first time at Harry’s LA home, and naturally it still baffles her to see where he’s gotten from his old life in Holmes Chapel, one that included her.

But his life includes her now as well, she reminds herself just as the car rolls up the long driveway. Getting out of the car she is about to grab her suitcases from the back of the car when the front door flies open and Harry sprints out. Literally.

He is running towards her with such speed, she almost gets knocked over when he finally reaches her and locks her in his arms, twirling around in the air.

“You’re here!” he breathes out, making her laugh.

“Were you not expecting me?” she teases him when he finally puts her down, but his arms remain around her.

“It’s just… I’m so happy to see you,” he smiles widely, taking her in. She hasn’t changed much since December, maybe her hair has gotten a little longer, but she looks the same.

However their feelings are nowhere near the same.

He thanks the driver and then grabs all her bags, urging her to come inside. Y/N wanders further into his home exploring it right away, already migrating towards the pool outside. Harry sets her luggage down in the hallway and walks after her, watching her stop by the sliding doors, admiring the enormous backyard. She turns around and catches him staring.

“What?” she asks, nervously laughing.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

2021

He’s nervous. There’s no use in denying, anyone could see it. But no one can blame him, it’s been so long since he last stood on a stage, he’s afraid he lost his groove, though the people who know him beg to differ.

Washing his teeth in his fluffy robe he is eyeing his outfit for tonight that’s hanging in the corner. He knows his fans will love it, the color pink alone would make them go feral, but the sparkly vest with no top underneath will be surely like they won the jackpot.

He spits and rinses his mouth just when there’s a soft knock on the door and just by the rhythm of it he knows who it is.

“Come in!” he calls out, wiping his mouth with a towel just when Y/N pokes her head inside, her body following a second later.

“Hey,” she smiles shyly, taking him in for a second as he moves around the room.

“Told you, you don’t have to knock when you come in,” he chuckles.

“But, what if you’re… naked or something?”

He stops and stares back at her, giving her an ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that gets her all flustered in an instant so he decides to take it even further.

“Nothing you haven’t seen, baby. In fact, you can see it right now if you wanted to.” He starts untying his robe, but she stops him laughing and taking the opportunity of having her so close now he wraps her in his arms and kisses her.

It never gets old. The feeling he gets whenever he gets to kiss her, whether it’s a good morning kiss right after he wakes up, or a tired kiss at the end of the day, a needy kiss when he just wants her more than anything or a make-up kiss after a fight, which doesn’t happen often. He can count it on one hand how many times they got into an argument since they’ve become an item in April 2020, when Y/N spent most of the lockdown with Harry. Originally, she planned to stay only for a couple of weeks, but she didn’t return home until the start of June and she was back by July.

Now it’s September 2021, so it’s been almost one and a half years since then and they are still just as in love as they were during lockdown.

“You’re nervous,” she mumbles against his lips and it’s not a question. She knows him, all of his looks, his movements, she knows what he thinks about most of the time if not always, she can read him like a book.

Harry hums and just goes in for another kiss.

“You’ll be amazing, don’t worry,” she smiles at him, patting his chest as she pulls back. “And even if you make a mistake, the pink sparkles will distract everyone,” she jokes, nodding towards his outfit.

“You’ll be out there?”

“Of course. I’ll be the one screaming the loudest.”

“As loud as last night?” The cheeky grin that stretches across his face is proof that he is not that nervous if he can make dirty jokes.

“Shut up or I’m going home,” she laughs, poking a finger into his chest teasingly. He grabs her finger and pulls her back for another kiss.

“Nope, you’re stuck here. With me,” he smirks, lips coming over hers again.

2023

The bittersweet feeling has been lingering around the crew not just all day, but probably for a week now. Everyone knew that the end was coming and now that the final show is officially here, the emotions are overflowing. Everything they are doing, they are doing it for the last time on Love On Tour. It’s the last stage, the last sound check, last time Wet Leg takes the stage before Harry and it’s the last time Y/N is sitting in his dressing room, watching him put on his outfit of the night.

She can sense that he is different than he usually is before a show, he seems antsy and his eyebrows have been furrowed probably since lunch. Y/N watches him pace the floor back and forth in his sparkly outfit, nervously fixing the wire behind his neck even though it’s exactly in the same spot it usually is.

“Do you want me to help?” she asks and Harry stops in his tracks, as if he just realized what he’s been doing. His hands fall by his side as he exhales sharply.

“Sorry, just… fidgeting.”

Y/N stands from the couch and walking over she absentmindedly fixes his fringed vest, planting her palms onto his chest gently.

“It’s okay to be sad, H,” she reminds him. Harry tends to hide his big, sad feelings, because he feels like it would bother others. He is always so considerate about dealing with everyone else’s feelings, but this time his emotions should be in focus as well.

“I don’t want to be sad, that’s the thing. It was a great experience, sadness should not be a thing when I think of Love On Tour.”

“But that’s why it’s okay to be sad. Because this amazing experience is ending and it’s natural that you’re mourning it. It lasted, what? Like almost two years? And if we count in the planning, this tour has been part of your life since 2019. That was four years ago, no one expects you to just let go of it laughing.”

Harry nods, his arms snaking around her waist as he pulls her into his embrace, needing to feel her close in this overwhelming moment. She’s been his anchor, the person he could turn to no matter what during this insanely long tour, he’s convinced he couldn’t have done it all without her.

Not even Harry can slow time down, so the moment to step onto the stage for the last time in this tour finally comes. Y/N stands with his family and friends at the side, holding Anne’s hands whenever an emotional song is played by him. He puts one thousand percent into it, just like every time on this tour and Y/N’s chest swells with pride when she realizes that it’s one hundred thousand people screaming at her lover.

Or fiancé, to be exact.

When Harry sings Falling, to his fans’ surprise, she notices him looking for her in the crowd. The song is melancholic and it was written about a time he felt at his lowest, but to look in his eyes tells it all to Y/N.

He is not there anymore, because he has her.

She’s twisting her diamond ring around her finger as tears dwell in her eyes while she sings along to the song, hoping that her expression tells him too, that she is happy to be the person who brought light into his life, because he did the same to her.

Then the time comes for Harry’s thank you speech and no eye is left dry after his words. Y/N has to swallow back her sobs when he turns to her and addresses his words straight to her.

“My love, thank you for everything, you were such a big part of this journey and I hope that our journey will continue forever.”

The fans are screaming, phones are pointed at her, recording her reaction as she just nods eagerly, one hand covering her wobbling lips.

For his final piano piece Y/N moves backstage to watch him from there and be there when he walks off the stage for the very last time in the history of Love On Tour. She is standing there with the proudest and most emotional expression on her face when Harry jumps down the steps and he smashes into her arms right away, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She can feel his tears against her skin and she gently keeps combing her hand through his hair, giving him as much time to recover as he needs.

When he finally lifts his head his eyes are glassy, but there’s a smile on his lips.

“You did amazing,” Y/N tells him, gently wiping his cheeks with her hands.

“And you did too,” he says and his words make her laugh.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did the absolute most, Y/N. You gave me your love and support and I couldn’t have done it without those.”

Her heart melts as she pushes up to her tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’ll forever have those. You’ll forever have me.”

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