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stylesloveclub · 1 year

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sunshine (part 1)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

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Y/n wonders if she thinks too highly of herself.

She thinks she’s pretty. Not in an obnoxious, self-obsessed way! She knows she’s not a supermodel, and she definitely has a lot of days where she looks and feels totally dead – but at the end of the day, she’s not hideous. She splurges on pretty makeup products, does her hair in the mornings, spends a decent amount of time planning out cute outfits… you know, little things to make herself feel pretty!

She brushes her teeth twice a day, showers regularly, flosses. Wears pretty perfumes that smell like flowers and lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There’s a stash of gum in her bag that she’s always chewing on, so she knows she doesn’t have bad breath; and she carries an extra deodorant in her backpack too, so you can’t tell her she’s repulsive or anything like that.

She’s kind. She smiles at strangers and always laughs at people’s jokes (even if they aren’t funny)— holds the elevator door open and says a polite “good morning” or “hello!” with her happy, cheery voice. And even though she’s a bit shy, she tries her best to spread love and kindness in the world. It just makes her happy to make other people happy!

Plus, being nice means that everyone else is nicer to you. So even if she’s in a bad mood, she’ll fake a smile and pretend like she’s happy y/n.

But, she wonders... if she has all of these amazing qualities– if she really is as pretty and kind and wonderful as she makes herself out to be– then why hasn’t she been kissed yet?

She loves her friends, of course she does! But how is she so different from them? Why do all of her friends get asked out on dates and have amazing boyfriends while she’s still a lonely virgin who hasn’t even been kissed yet?

It’s not like she’s this super virginal person who gets grossed out by boys! She wants to be kissed, she wants to get fucked! She’s toyed around with the idea of just downloading tinder and losing it all to some stranger in one night stand, but her romantic heart just can’t stand the thought of it.

Yes, she’s desperate… but she’s also romantic. Love is on her mind 24/7. It’s what she thinks about before she falls asleep, what she daydreams about whenever she gets bored. She could spend hours with a romance novel, hyper fixating on the little things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at. The way the boy’s hand cupped the girl’s jaw while they kissed, or how their fingers brushed as they walked down the street. Little things like forehead kisses and prolonged glances across a room.

She craves it for herself, desperately aches for the affection that she reads of. She wants to rest her head on someone’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as she falls asleep, feel their fingers playing with her hair, or their lips skimming her cheek. Wants to laugh under the covers and share secrets and be vulnerable and in love. She wants it more than anything in the world!

And yet, she hasn’t even been kissed!

Everyone else seems to do it so easily – find a nice guy, go out on a date, and fall in love. So why is it so hard for her? Her friends tell her that she's the prettiest and sweetest girl out there, and that the right guy simply hasn’t come around yet… but y/n can’t help but think, is any of it true?

Is she even that pretty? Is she actually likable?

What’s wrong with her?

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Harry hates these stupid college parties.

They’re loud and stuffy, with way too many people crammed into one room for his liking. The alcohol is cheap, the music is annoying. The entire apartment smells like weed, and there’s not even a secluded corner for him to mope around in without some group of drunk girls completely invading his personal space. Everything about these parties sucks.

If he could, he’d leave. But he’s meant to give a ride home to his roomie Blake, and Blake’s currently hooking up with the host of this party.

So Harry’s stuck here. Great.

He checks his phone, and it’s nearly midnight. Blake should be done soon, right? The blonde girl who’s been talking to him for the past 20 minutes is getting awfully close, her hand trailing on his biceps and migrating towards his chest, and she’s blinking up at him with fluttery bambi eyes.

Any other night and Harry might be into whatever this girl is hinting at, but he’s 100% sober and 100% not in the mood to hook up with a girl who’s taken one too many shots. He grabs the girl's hands and peels them off of his chest gently, muttering something about needing to use the restroom (he doesn’t even need to use the bathroom, he just needs a minute away from the pounding music).

He sends her off in the direction of her friends, who are giggling to each other in a corner across the room and not-so-inconspicuously checking to see if their friend has managed to successfully get with Harry. He’s sure they’ve realized that he rejected her when they all glare at him. Sorry to disappoint, he thinks to himself.

He’s nearly positive that any bathrooms in this shitty college apartment will probably be occupied, either with someone throwing up all the drinks they’ve had or with a couple hooking up. But no harm in trying anyway.

The first door that he tries to open is locked. The second door opens up to reveal a coat closet.

The third door however, opens up to a bedroom.

The walls are decorated with posters and pictures, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and tiny pots of succulents placed all over the room… but the one thing that stands out the most is the overwhelming number of books scattered all over the room. There’s a bookshelf on each wall, cluttered with books of all colors and sizes. Stacks of books lie on the nightstand by the bed, a stray book sits on top of a dresser, and a pile of new, untouched books sits pristinely in the far right corner of the room.

Books, books, and more books all over the room. And, a book in the hands of a girl sitting quietly in her bed, staring at Harry.

Dressed in a hoodie and some fuzzy pj pants, the book that she’d once held up closely to her face now rests on her lap as she blinks up at this strange intruder. She sits upright, closing the book but sticking her finger between the pages so that she doesn’t lose her place. “Um… hi?” she says quietly.

He steps into the room, and looks at her blankly. “Hi.” She blinks at him. “S’this room taken?” he asks.

“Um. Well,” she looks at him curiously. “No, I guess not.”

“Okay, good,” he responds, quickly closing the door behind him. He sits on a spinny chair that he pulls out from under a desk and leans his head back, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

The girl, with her finger still lodged between her book, stares at him confused. Who is this guy?

He’s cute, and she’s mildly embarrassed that he’s come into her room when she’s looking so… sleepy. But he also seems kinda grumpy and is obviously not in the mood to talk. He’s leaning back in her chair and closing his eyes, gently rubbing his temples as if he’s meditating.

She observes him with wide eyes. Then after a minute of silence she awkwardly picks her book back up and tries to resume reading.

Kinda hard to do with some random guy sitting in her bedroom, though.

In this secluded bedroom, the sound of the music has decreased dramatically. Harry’s pounding headache starts to fade away, and he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party. He looks around the room that he so luckily stumbled into.

The desk in front of him is, to no surprise, cluttered with more books. A laptop is plugged in in front of him, and there’s a cup full of colorful pens and markers sitting against the wall. Hanging on the wall is a string of pictures starring the same girl with different groups of people.

He looks at the pictures hanging from the walls. Then he looks back at the girl laying in the bed.

“S’this your room?” he asks, finally connecting the dots.

She looks up from the book again and nods.

“Oh,” he hums, surprised. He supposes he should’ve realized it as soon as he walked in. Girl in a room full of books, reading a book. Face clean of all makeup, snuggled up in a blanket, nice and comfy as though she’s just about ready for bed. It’s a bit silly that he only made the connection once he saw her pictures up on the walls. “Why aren’t you out there partying?”

“Um… not really my scene,” she says, closing the book and looking at Harry properly. Her nose scrunches up, “And it smells really bad in there.”

“Jesus, tell me about it,” he groans. “Could hardly breathe in there. In fact–” he says, already standing up, “d’ya mind if we open up a window? Still feels stuffy in here.”

She shows no resistance as he slides the window open, accepting the fact that she’d be sharing her room with this stranger until the party was over. Harry sticks his head out and takes a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Much better than the sweaty, smoky, sickly smell going on inside the apartment.

When he turns back around, the girl has rearranged herself. She sits criss-crossed on her bed and looks up at Harry, fidgeting nervously with her lip bitten between her teeth.

She’s kind of cute.

Harry breaks the silence again. “I think your roommate is hooking up with my roommate right now.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Is your roommate Blake?”

He nods.

“Yeah, Maddie’s been saying that she, um… you know,” she looks down at her hands as they play with a loose thread on the hem of her pants. “Wants to hook up with him or whatever.”

He nods his head, leaning back against her wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. As refreshing as the air is, the night time breeze is cold.

“No offense,” he says, “But you don’t seem like you’d be friends with Maddie.” Maddie (y/n’s roommate) has jet black hair, wears heavy eyeliner and black lipstick everyday, and is at least a little bit high 90% of the time. Y/n, in comparison, has flowery bed sheets, a stuffed bunny tucked in next to her, and is hiding in her bedroom while a party being thrown in her own apartment.

She just smiles softly. “Yeah, we met online. But she’s really nice.”

He raises his eyebrow. “She seems like a bitch.”

She defends her roommate immediately. “She’s not a bitch!” But then she thinks about it for a second. Maddie can definitely come off a bit… harsh at times. “Well… she’s usually really nice to me, at least.”

That makes sense. It would be very hard to be mean to this girl, he imagines. She’s too nice. It would be like being mean to a puppy or something.

Good thing Harry isn’t mean. He’s just… a bit of a grump.

She taps her fingers against the cover of her book awkwardly, staring at Harry as he looks up to her ceiling and closes his eyes. He just wants to be in his bed right now.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry pushes himself off the wall. “I think Blake should be done,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “I’m going to leave now.”

“Okay,” says the girl quietly. She watches as he leaves with a nod of his head, and shuts the door behind him.

That was weird, she thinks.

Whatever, though. She opens her book and forgets about it.

+++

Don’t people say that drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving? What constitutes drowsy driving? Should y/n even be out on the road right now?

She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Maddie woke her up with a phone call at 2 AM, asking if y/n would come pick her up from Blake’s apartment cause she was too high to get back on her own and she doesn’t want to stay the night there.

Y/n, being the sweetheart that she is, obviously wants her roommate to get back safe. So she’s in her car, at 2 AM, yawning every three seconds as she drives to the location Maddie sent her.

She texts Maddie from the car, but Maddie doesn’t respond. She calls her, then sends another text, but still no answer. After 10 minutes of no response, she goes up to the door and knocks.

Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, it’s Harry.

His eyebrows furrow as recognizes the girl from that party he��d been at two weeks ago. She looks just as comfortable as she did then, in a big pink hoodie and a pair of sweats. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice confused and his eyes doubting. Not many people come knocking at his door at 2 AM.

Unlike y/n, who looks like she just rolled out of bed and drove here (that is exactly what she did), Harry looks like he’s been up all night (he’s been playing COD). He’s not wearing a shirt and has a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, showing off a chiseled abdomen that acts as a canvas for a multitude of pretty tattoos. Y/n finds herself staring at the swallows that lie under his collarbones, the butterfly painted above his stomach, and the ferns lining a yummy pair of v-lines that point downwards… she swallows thickly and forces herself to look away.

“Um,” she covers her mouth as she yawns, hiding her cold fingers with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Maddie needed me to drive her home.” She blinks sleepily, and can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she looks so dead.

“It’s 2 in the morning,” he scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She blinks sleepily again. “I was.”

Harry rolls his eyes. If it were him, he would not have gotten up and driven all the way over here. Someone else’s problems are not enough to get him out of bed. But, this girl… she’s too nice.

He leaves her at the door and goes to Blake’s room, pounding on the door rudely. “Hey!” he yells, irritation evident in his tone, “your roommate’s here.”

He hears a bit of shuffling, before Maddie stumbles out of Blake’s room, makeup askew and clothing only half on. She giggles up at Harry and apologizes playfully, but he just glares at her. Her eyes are glazed over and the whites of her eyes bloodshot, very obviously high if the way she couldn’t walk straight wasn’t enough of an indication.

He feels bad for the stupid girl who drove all the way over here in the middle of the night because her roommate wanted to get high.

Maddie trips over her own feet and falls into y/n, who uses all of her strength to keep her roommate upright and walks her slowly down to the car. “Are you feeling okay?” Harry hears her ask quietly. He scoffs to himself.

He doesn’t get it. How the fuck has this girl not lost her shit? Her irresponsible roommate woke her up at 2 am and made her drive all the way to some stranger’s house, and yet she still manages to be so… gentle. So kind, to someone who barely even deserves it. So caring, to someone who seems to care so little.

As y/n helps Maddie get into the car, she looks back up to the apartment and sees Harry watching them from the doorstep. They make eye contact for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze makes her heart stutter, a chill running down her spine. He looks… upset. Almost like he’s mad at her.

It makes her frown. She wants to say something to him, apologize for ruining his night… but then Maddie sticks her head out of the car and vomits.

Harry shakes his head and turns away.

That girl is too nice for her own good.

+++

“Hey.” Blake pokes his head into Harry’s room, where Harry’s busy playing a round on his computer, “Do you mind if Maddie and her friend come over?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mumbles, uninterested, not looking away from his game.

“Sick,” he turns around to go back into his own room, but stops when Harry suddenly pauses his game and calls out to him.

“Who’s the friend?” Harry asks, turning around.

“Y/n,” Blake answers. Harry stares at him, his brows furrowed. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Her roommate.”

“That quiet girl?” Harry clarifies.

“Yeah, that one.”

Oh. So her name was y/n.

Good to know.

+++

It’s dark out when Harry finally turns off his game, sliding his headset off and stretching his back. He lets out a long groan as he feels his spine crack, a delicious feeling after being hunched over his controller for three hours straight.

Standing up, he scratches at his stomach lazily, throwing his headset onto his chair. His arms feel a bit sore, having been to the gym earlier that day, and his hair is still wet from when he showered. He puts on a sweatshirt, finding his apartment too cold to be roaming around shirtless, and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat.

He stops in his tracks when he finds y/n sitting in his living room all alone.

She’s got a book in her hands, a thick, worn-out novel that looks older than herself. She’s sitting comfortably on their couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt, so engulfed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t even realize that she’s not alone anymore.

It’s the first time he’s ever seen her outside of her sleep attire. She’s wearing a pair of loose, comfy looking corduroy pants, and a tight top that cuts off just below her ribs. Her chest rises and falls steadily, eyes skimming across the pages of her book so quickly that he wonders if she’s actually absorbing any of the words or not. She chews on her lip as she reads, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

When Harry finally speaks, it makes her jump in her place. “Where are Blake and Maddie?”

Her book nearly falls out of her hands as she whips her head around. When she sees it’s him, she relaxes. “Oh. Um,” she sits upright, closing her book, “They’re in his room.”

He nods slowly, squinting his eyes. There’s no nice way to ask his next question, so he just spits it out bluntly. “Why’d you come over if you’re just sitting out here while they hook up?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling a little shy under his intimidating gaze. “Maddie was my ride to campus today. And she wanted to stop by here before we went home.” She shrugs quietly, “So I kinda had no choice.”

He huffs. Of course.

Y/n says that Maddie’s nice, but Harry really doesn’t like her. How weird is it to drag your friend somewhere just to have them sit alone while you go hook up with someone?

“How long have you guys been here?” he asks.

“Like, an hour.”

“So you’ve been sitting around doing nothing for an hour?”

She pouts. “I had my book.”

He blinks. She just sat here reading for an hour, while her roommate abandoned her to go hookup with Blake… and she’s okay with it?

She is too nice for her own good.

“Do y’want some pizza?” he asks, already opening the freezer.

Normally, y/n would say no. She’s kind of an unwelcome guest and she doesn’t want to be a burden on Harry. But… she hasn’t had anything since breakfast. And Maddie still hasn’t come out. She’s kind of starving.

“What kind?” she asks politely.

“Umm… cheese or pepperoni.”

“I don’t like pepperoni,” she confesses shyly. “But also I could just pick it off if you want pepperoni. Whatever you want.”

He rolls his eyes, shoving the pepperoni pizza back into the freezer. He wants to scream at her to stop being so nice! Stop being so considerate and just say what you want!

He puts it in the oven to bake, setting a timer for 15 minutes, then takes a moment to contemplate his next move. He could either go back into his room, where he could lie in bed and nap until the pizza was ready… or he could stay in here and sit awkwardly on the couch so that y/n wouldn’t be all alone.

99% of him wants to just go back into his room where he can be grumpy and alone in peace… but then he looks over at y/n, who’s sitting on the couch all by herself. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place, tracing her thumb over the raised up font on the hardcover in her hands.

The 1% of him that feels bad for her wins. He sits down next to her on the couch.

He nods his head towards the worn out book, which looks thicker than anything he’s ever read. “Are you reading the fuckin’ bible?”

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly. She runs her fingers over the grooves of the title, a feeling so familiar that it comforts her when she’s feeling so out of place. “It’s Wuthering Heights.”

He furrows his brow. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s good,” she says. “Kinda dense, but I’ve already read it a few times. It’s one of my favorites.”

He nods again, tapping his fingers on his thighs as silence overtakes the apartment once more. He looks around the living room, trying to find something else to say.

Y/n’s heart pitter patters in her chest nervously. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous around Harry. She’s pretty shy in general, and Harry’s stoic demeanor certainly doesn’t help her relax. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Um… what’s your major?” A feeble attempt on her end at a conversation.

“Math.”

“Just math?” she parrots.

“Mhm,” he cracks his knuckles. “Pure math.”

She huffs out a quiet breath, a pout on her lips. “I’m in a math class right now.” Her fingers pick at a piece of fuzz that’s stuck on the couch. “Calc 1. It’s really hard.”

“Mm, yeah.” Harry hums, “Took that during my first year.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, “Did you pass?”

He holds back a smile. It’s amusing, how earnestly she’s asking him – a math major – if he passed Calculus 1. That class was generally easy for him, mostly just beginner stuff compared to the math he does now that he’s in his third year. But he doesn’t say that. “Yeah, I did,” he says simply, not wanting to make her feel bad.

She nods, looking back down at her book. “I’m kinda scared. Our first midterm was really hard.”

He hums sympathetically. Even though it was easy for him, he knows that calc class is infamously hard for others – especially for those who aren’t math inclined like himself. “How about you? What’s your major?”

His legs are spread apart so that he takes up nearly half the couch, whereas y/n sits curled up on the other corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Bio,” she readjusts herself so that she’s sitting crisscrossed, her book still clutched to her chest protectively. “With a concentration in ecology.”

Ew. He hates biology. Actually… he hates everything except math. Math is easy for him.

The oven beeps. A rush of relief fills his chest, finally free from this awkward conversation, and he eagerly abandons y/n on the couch to get the pizza out. He’s hungry, starving, and doesn’t bother with a plate or anything before grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth.

“Come have some,” he mumbles, mouth full.

She timidly walks over to the kitchen counter that he’s standing at, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and takes a slice as well. Blowing on it, she takes a much smaller bite than Harry did since it’s still so hot. She doesn’t know how he managed to already finish a whole slice.

Now that they can focus on eating their food, there’s no need for any more small talk. They eat comfortably in silence, only acknowledging each other when y/n asks for a napkin. He nods towards one of the drawers, asking her to grab him one too, and then they’re back to eating in silence.

Blake and Maddie burst out of his room a few minutes later.

“Harry made dinner!” exclaims Blake, coming over and reaching for a slice of pizza.

Harry yanks the tray out of his reach. “Get your own pizza,” he mumbles, putting the pizza back down in front of y/n. He looks at her, and nods his head towards the pizza, inviting her to take another slice.

Maddie stops her before she can reach for a second slice. “Ready to go?” she asks.

Y/n nods, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Thanks for the pizza,” she whispers to Harry, quiet enough so that only he hears.

“Yeah,” is all he says. He barely looks at her, too busy scarfing down his third (maybe fourth) slice.

She grabs her stuff and follows Maddie out of the boys apartment.

+++

“Hey!” Maddie pushes her way through the stuffed apartment, reaching her hand out towards y/n. “Listen, I’m gonna go home with Blake.”

“W-What?” Y/n’s head is foggy, her brain a little clouded from the few drinks that she’s had. Y/n doesn’t normally drink, so the little bit of alcohol in her system has had its intended effect and gone a bit further as well – her cheeks are warm, and she feels the world sway a little bit as she looks up at Maddie with a pout. “But– but what about me?”

Normally, y/n stays home whenever Maddie wants to go out and party. She prefers the comfort of her own bed and hates the anxiety she feels when she’s drunk and wobbly and surrounded by a bunch of strangers. But Maddie had assured her that they’d be together all night, that she’d take care of her if she got drunk, and that she’d drive them home whenever y/n wanted to leave.

She’s broken all three of those promises.

When they got to the party, Maddie abandoned her as soon as she saw Blake across the room. Luckily, y/n saw some of her own friends that she was able to hang out with, some girls from her ecology class who gave her a yummy strawberry smirnoff. They talked and laughed and y/n was having a good time, slowly but surely getting a little bit tipsy. The drink was so yummy, and Maddie wasn’t there to keep an eye on her, so she didn’t realize that she’d gone a bit over her tolerance.

She’s a bit tipsier than she’d like to be in a public setting, surrounded with people she doesn’t know, and it’s too dark outside for her to get home safely on her own. And now… Maddie wants to abandon her? For Blake?

“Don’t worry!” Maddie exclaims, completely disregarding the worry flickering in y/n’s glazed eyes. “I’ll order you an uber home!”

Y/n bites her lip nervously. An uber? At this time of night, when she’s all drunk and stumbling around like a sad little baby deer?

“Um… can’t you take me home before you go with Blake?”

Maddie rolls her eyes, “come on, really? I’ll pay for the uber. It'll be fine.”

Y/n’s heart beats loudly in her chest, “I-I’m scared of going by myself, Maddie. I think I had too much to drink, I don’t feel safe.”

Her roommate purses her lips in a firm line, as if she’s annoyed. She looks around the apartment, tapping her foot impatiently, then she lights up with an idea. “Stay here,” she tells y/n.

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way back to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!”

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated.

“Can you drive y/n home?”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?”

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.”

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes.

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?”

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up.

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.”

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza.

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously.

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now.

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment.

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides.

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot.

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes.

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly.

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump in her throat as the drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light they stop at and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

He stares at her befuddled, brows furrowed and eyes a piercing green, but she refuses to meet his gaze. She just looks outside the window in a melancholy haze, lost in thought, eyes unfocused as tears drip down her face silently.

He sighs deeply and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, praying for the red light to turn green so that he can get this girl home as soon as possible.

+++

When they arrive at her place, he sits in his car and watches as she stumbles up the steps of her apartment. She mumbled out a soft thank you through her tears and managed to climb out of his car smoothly, but the way she wobbles on her feet makes Harry worry that he shouldn’t leave until he’s sure she got in.

She stands in front of her door for a solid two minutes, trying to find her keys, and Harry taps his fingers against his thigh impatiently. When she finally finds them, she struggles to fit the key in the lock, hands shaky and her vision still blurred from the tears. Aaaand then she drops them.

Harry sighs and puts the car in park. By the time she’s picked the keys back up, Harry’s already gotten out of his car and reached the top step. He takes the keys from her and easily unlocks her door. “In,” he mutters, ushering her into her apartment impatiently.

He follows her into her bathroom and turns the light on for her. Their eyes meet in the mirror as he asks, “can you get yourself ready for bed?”

She nods, looking down at the ground sheepishly as he leaves her to take off her makeup and brush her teeth. She opts to skip her skincare routine and doesn’t even bother with putting her jewelry back in her jewelry box, simply just leaving her earrings on her bathroom counter to deal with tomorrow.

Harry’s probably gone back down to his car by now, she thinks. It’s so embarrassing, how he had to drive her home and guide her into her bathroom. He seemed annoyed with her. He probably thought she was so messy – an annoying, overdramatic girl who started crying in his car for no reason.

More tears bubble in her tears as the hot wave of embarrassment washes over her. She was such a mess, of course she’s never been in a relationship. Nobody would want to date someone like her.

She takes off her clothes and whips off her bra, sniffling to herself sadly. Slipping on her favorite sweatshirt, a huge pink one that goes down to her mid thighs and covers her hands, she uses the sleeves to wipe away the excess tears in her eyes. She stumbles over herself a bit and bangs her foot against her dresser as she reaches for a pair of sleep shorts and it only makes her want to cry even harder. Drunk y/n is extra emotional, and every little thing is sending over the edge.

As she’s stepping into her pair of sleep shorts, her bedroom door opens, Harry walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other. She trips over herself as she tries to pull her clothes on as soon as possible, but it just makes her lose balance and stumble to the side. His eyes widen and he turns around quickly, muttering a quick fuck to himself.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Are you decent?”

Y/n regains her composure, cheeks burning as she pulls her shorts over her hips. This night could not be going any worse. “Yeah,” she says quietly. She hopes it’s dark enough in the room so that he doesn’t see her flaming cheeks and puffy eyes.

He turns around and hands her the water, which she immediately starts chugging down. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been until she’d seen the glass in Harry’s large, tattooed hand.

“Slow down,” he grunts. He pops open the pill bottle and takes out one Advil for her. “Take this.”

She grabs the pill from him obediently and swallows it down with the rest of her water. Then she looks up at him, as if waiting for his next instructions.

“Bed,” he says, nodding his head towards her daisy printed sheets. She goes to climb in but trips over her shoe that she’d messily discarded on the floor. Harry grabs her waist before she can fall to the floor though.

“Jesus,” he murmurs. This was like the seventh time she’s almost fallen over tonight. Is she always this clumsy or was it the drinks?

He grabs her hand and physically guides her into her bed, making sure she lays down properly and lifting the sheets for her to climb under. Grabbing her ankle, he literally has to guide her under the blanket, then lets the duvet fall over her gracefully.

“All good?” he asks, once she’s tucked nicely into her bed, teeth brushed and medicine taken so that she wouldn’t wake up feeling gross tomorrow.

She looks up at him, eyes no longer tear filled but still clearly sad. “Yeah..” she says quietly, however her eyes flicker around her room as if she’s searching for something.

He furrows his brows, and glances in the direction her eyes have landed. A stuffed bunny lies on the floor next to the shoe that she tripped over. He bends over and picks it up, handing it to her questioningly. She takes the bunny and snuggles it into her neck, eyes fluttering as if she can finally relax. “Thanks,” she whispers.

Harry nods curtly and heads for the door. When he turns around one final, y/n is watching him with sleepy eyes. “Bye, Harry,” she squeaks out.

He stares at her for a second. “Bye.” Then he closes the door behind himself.

+++

Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and an upset tummy.

That was mortifying.

She’s never gonna be able to face Harry again. He was so annoyed with her, she just knows it! The way she dragged him away from that party, cried in his car, and tripped over herself like a stupid goat with clanky legs… oh, he probably thinks she’s the worst!

She wishes she had more control over her emotions, that she could’ve held in the tears until she was alone in her bed… but she just felt so miserable last night. She had wanted to start crying literally when Maddie first yelled at her at the party, but she tried to stay strong. Kept herself together so that she at least didn’t start crying in the middle of a party.

But then… getting in the car with Harry. God. The deafening silence, the irritation radiating off of him… it made her feel terrible. She felt like a nuisance, like an annoyance and a burden.

And she completely humiliated herself in front of Harry! The cute guy that she maybe sort of had started to have a tiny little crush on, simply because he was cute and mildly nice to her and she has a habit of romanticizing small interactions.

There was no chance he’d ever want to be in a room with her after this. He probably wants nothing to do with her.

She stumbles out of her bed and plants her feet on the ground, her head spinning a little bit as she squints her eyes. Her little stuffed bunny has fallen onto the floor again, and she picks it up and places it onto the bed next to herself. She remembers how Harry had picked the bunny up and given it to her before she fell asleep last night, like she was some little kid that he was stuck babysitting.

Ugh. She’s never going to talk to him again.

+++

Harry stands outside of his lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed angrily. His eyebrows are furrowed in classic Grumpy Harry fashion and his lips are pursed in a disgruntled frown.

He’s annoyed.

He stares at y/n, who’s sitting on a bench not too far away. Her tote bag sits on the floor next to her feet and there’s a book in her hand, her finger in between the pages as a temporary bookmark to not lose the page she’s on.

There’s something about her that just… annoys him so much. He can’t quite explain it.

The way her cheeks dimple as she smiles up at the guy talking to her, tucking her hair behind her ear gently when it falls into her face… it makes his jaw clench angrily as he watches her from a distance. She’s so nice. Too nice.

She laughs at something the guy she’s talking to says and it makes his stomach feel sour. He doesn’t like it.

Blake’s hand snaps in front of Harry’s face. “Bro. Stop staring.”

Harry forces his eyes to look away, brows still furrowed grumpily. “Wasn’t staring,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the wall and going into the lecture hall.

“You were,” he responds, following closely behind. “She’s really nice… I dunno why you hate her.”

“Who says I hate her?” Harry scoffs. “I never talk to her.” Especially as of late, she’s quiet as a mouse around him. He was over at her apartment to pick Blake up the other day and she’d only said a quiet “hi” before scurrying back into her room, like a scared little bunny in the presence of a snake or something.

“Well… I mean, you could be nicer.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

Blake hesitates. “Like… I dunno. Maddie says you made her cry.”

“Huh?” He thinks back to that night… “How was that my fault?” All he’d done was driven her home and tucked her into bed? She just started crying on her own!

“She’s just kind of sensitive,” says Blake. “I know you probably weren’t trying to mean, but you’re definitely not sunshine and rainbows. You’re scary, did y’know that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Everyone seems to have this preconceived notion that Harry's this huge dick who never smiles… and though it’s true that he rarely smiles in the presence of strangers, he’s not an asshole! He just doesn’t feel like wasting his energy in pretending to like people he doesn’t actually like. Or smile when it’s much more comfortable to furrow his brows and pout grumpily.

And he finds that usually his grumpy demeanor works in his favor – people stay out of his way, and he gets to avoid the headache that comes with interacting with people. But now this girl… this sunshine girl who always has her nose in a little book and always says please and thank you and is nice to everyone and stumbles over herself like a little puppy who's learning how to walk… she’s gone on and made him feel bad about it.

How annoying is that? To have the nicest person on the planet think you’re scary?

“I wasn’t trying to make her cry,” he mutters, irritated. “I didn’t even say anything to her.”

“Well maybe that’s the problem. Like… just try. I think you’ll like her.”

He doesn’t think so. She’s too nice. They probably wouldn’t get along.

+++

There are three things y/n does a lot.

The first is studying. Her grades come first, always. She’ll be at the library for hours at a time, snuggled up in a booth with an iced coffee and her color coded notes, studying until she can barely keep her eyes open. It’s unhealthy, and she really should take breaks more often… but she just gets really nervous about her grades!

She’s used to being at the top of her class, and has always been a straight A student. But recently, she’s been struggling. She’s doing fine in her chemistry class, and absolutely thriving in biology. But calculus… calculus is her worst enemy.

The second thing she does a lot is reading. She’s been a bookworm for as long as she can remember. Her most frequent genre is romance (obviously!), but she’ll dabble a little bit in the popular fantasy series, maybe pick up a thriller every once in a while. And if she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll try to read one of the classics… something philosophical, like Camus, or maybe something a little heavier, like War and Peace. But those situations are rare. She prefers her little world of romance.

The third thing that y/n does a lot… is cry.

She’ll cry if she watches a sad movie, she’ll cry over a sad book. She cried when Finnick died in The Hunger Games, and she cried when she finished Of Mice and Men. She cries every single time she watches Pride and Prejudice (2005), sobs her eyes out when Mr. Darcy says, “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love- I love- I love you.”

She cries if someone yells at her, and she cries if she thinks someone doesn’t like her. She cries almost every time she’s drunk (example: when Harry drove her home), and she cries in the middle of the night when she’s feeling homesick. She cries for no reason when she’s getting close to her period… and sometimes, she cries because she’s just lonely.

Now, you might be thinking… y/n sounds super annoying. But please don’t think that! That would also probably make her cry.

She’s just a tad bit sensitive! She has so many emotions in her little heart, and she’s trying so hard to be responsible and manage life as a young adult but at the end of the day she’s just a girl!!! She’s just a girl, and she’s tired and stressed out and lonely and touch deprived, and sometimes she has a hard time keeping everything together so she just… cries.

If she could control it, she would! Do you really think she wants to be crying in the library? Of course, not! It’s embarrassing, and she’s trying really hard to keep her sniffles quiet and to suck the tears back into her eyeballs… but when she’s sad, she can’t stop the tears.

So now she’s crying in the library. And it’s all because of Issac Newton.

Why did he have to invent calculus? Like, what was even the point? Why did she, as a girl studying ecology, have to take this stupid class?

She buries her face in her arms, the tears unstoppable at this point, and just hopes that anyone walking past will think she’s napping and not crying her eyes out.

She’d studied really hard for that last midterm. Like– she’d literally been in the library for a week straight, just doing calculus problems over and over again. She went to office hours to get help on all the questions she was stuck on, and was watching the Organic Chemistry Tutor’s videos religiously. She did so much math that she was literally having dreams about doing calculus.

And yet, even with all of her studying, she still managed to fail the midterm. Like… she seriously failed it. As in, if she doesn’t get an A on the final, she will literally have to retake the class.

She’s so sad. She’s never gotten a grade this low, ever in her life. And she’d tried so hard!!! The morning of the midterm, she’d actually felt confident! She thought she had it in the bag!

She was so, so wrong.

She feels stupid – not just because she failed the midterm, but because she’s literally having a breakdown about it in the library.

This is stupid. Everything is stupid. School is stupid, Issac Newton is stupid, calculus is stupid–

“Y/n?”

Uh oh. She tries to wipe away her tears discreetly, licking her lips and clearing her throat and desperately hoping that it’s not obvious that she’s been crying.

When she lifts her head, she finds Harry standing in front of her. “Why’re you crying?” he asks bluntly, looking down at her with his brows furrowed.

Ok. So it is obvious.

“Um,” she sniffles, “Hi Harry.” She hopes that maybe if she pretends like everything is fine, then he won’t pry any further.

It doesn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again. There’s not much compassion or comfort in his voice. Same old grumpy Harry, so blank and impassive.

She shrugs her shoulders, feeling small and embarrassed. “I– it’s silly,” she stammers, looking down at her fingers.

Harry doesn’t say anything, staring at her and waiting for her to continue.

She swallows thickly. “I failed my midterm,” she whispers, her voice catching as a new lump grows in her throat.

“How bad?”

One lone tear falls down her face as she shakes her head disappointedly, which she wipes away quickly. “Really bad,” she whimpers. Her cheeks burn hot as she realizes that she can’t hold back the tears any longer. She quickly averts her eyes from him, staring into her lap and hoping that he can’t see her face.

This is the second time he’s seen her cry, which is two times more than she would like. He probably thinks she’s some silly, over emotional girl… probably thinks she’s so annoying. She just wants to curl up in a ball, hide in a dark hole and cry by herself. She can’t handle Harry’s judgment on top of her shitty midterm grade.

He stands there silently for a moment. Her lower lip has pouted out cutely and he can hear her sniffling quietly. “Was it math?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she grumbles sadly. Stupid math.

He hums. After another tense moment he asks, “Do you want help?”

“Help with what?” She stares down at her fingers, her tone dejected. The happy glimmer that usually sparkles in her eye is gone.

“With math,” he clarifies. “I can help you.”

She looks up at him curiously, still pouting. “You’d help me with math?”

He nods, pulling out the chair next to her. “Let me see your midterm,” he says, nodding his head towards the packet of math problems she’d just been sobbing over. Embarrassingly, the front page is stained with a few tears, but she hands it over nonetheless.

He scans over the first page quickly, reading the question and seeing how she answered it. “Do you know why you got this one wrong?”

She sniffles and shrugs. She hadn’t even tried to look over the questions, too mentally exhausted to even try and understand what mistakes she’d made.

“Look. You tried to cancel out the tan3x, which would make sense in any other case… but since it’s to the power of 4 you could really easily have used integration by parts.”

“Wish I knew that before I took the fucking midterm,” she huffs.

“Hey,” he tsks. “Learn from your mistakes so that you don’t make them again. You need to know this stuff to do integral tests later.”

She shakes her head. “I tried so hard, Harry,” she barely whispers, her voice exhausted. “Like I studied so much, and I really really tried to make it all make sense. But it’s just so hard for me.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Harry.

She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to give up.

He purses his lips, brows furrowed. There’s something about seeing y/n upset that just feels so wrong. She usually brings so much… light into a room. Seeing her cry makes it seem like the entire universe has gotten a little sadder.

“You’ve got the right idea when you’re solving these…” he tries to comfort her (though he’s never really been good at comforting people), “It’s just little things that you’re doing wrong. And it’s probably because you’ve got a shit professor who just has you copy down problems.”

“That’s literally all we do!” she whines, not even caring if she sounds like a baby. “He does the problems so fast and then I have to go home and try and figure out how he did it all by myself!” She sniffles and puts her head in her hands, more tears dropping from her eyelashes. She’s exhausted, her head starting to hurt as she exhales a shuddery breath.

He lets her cry a little bit. “Listen,” he says gently, turning to face her. The normal furrow in his brow is gone, his gaze a little bit softer. “Next time you come over with Maddie, bring your notes and we can go over them together, okay?”

She sniffles. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Like actually?”

“Yes,” he says again exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He stands up from the table and puts her midterm back down in front of her. “Lighten up, sunshine. One bad score is not the end of the world.”

She feels a bit silly now that Harry’s witnessed her having another breakdown in the library. But, despite how little he said… he actually helped her calm down. This was not the end of the world.

“Okay,” she whispers, “thanks, Harry.”

He nods and walks away.

Maybe he doesn’t hate her, she thinks to herself.

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“I’m going out,” Maddie says as she walks into the kitchen, discarding her half full coffee mug on the counter as she grabs her car keys from the hook in front of the door.

“Your mug!” y/n tuts like a mother. Maddie rolls her eyes as she pours the last of her coffee down the sink and puts the mug in the dishwasher. Y/n ignores the dramatic eye roll, knowing that Maddie’s just playing around, and asks, “Where are you going?”

“Over to Blake’s,” she responds with a wink. She’s been telling y/n about how she’s been waiting for Blake to text her all week because she doesn’t want to be the one texting first all the time… weird situation-ship stuff that y/n’s never experienced before. Seems like he finally texted her, with how excited Maddie is to be going over.

Just as Maddie is about to step out the door, y/n remembers Harry’s offer. He’d been serious, right? He hadn’t just said that because she was crying… right? She really hopes not, because she really could use his help. She’d been up for hours last night, trying to do the homework, but ultimately giving up because she got too frustrated with herself. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to help her?

“Wait!” y/n calls out, “Um… can I come with you?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “Why do you want to come over to Blake’s apartment?”

Y/n turns a bit shy, “Harry… he’s, um, helping me with math.”

“Harry?” Maddie’s eyes glimmer curiously. “He’s literally such a dick. He’s helping you?”

“He’s not that bad…” y/n mumbles, remembering the ounce of kindness he’d shown to her in the library the other day. He’s just a little bit… reserved, she’s started to realize.

“Please. He literally never smiles. I dunno how you got him to talk to you, he always ignores me when I’m over.”

(Honestly, she doesn’t blame Harry for not talking to Maddie… she sometimes ignores Maddie in her own apartment too…)

“You have two minutes to meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you!”

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With her schoolbag in hand, y/n taps lightly on Harry’s door. Blake had told her to just go in, but she feels like that’s rude, so she stands in front of his door nervously and waits patiently for him to open.

“What?” he grunts, opening his bedroom door. “Oh.” The furrow in his brow softens the slightest bit when he sees it’s y/n. He’d thought it was Blake bugging him about something. Y/n is a much… nicer surprise.

“Hi,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lip nervously. “I was wondering if… um, you could help me out with my calc stuff?”

He stares at her for a second, then says, “yeah.”

He opens the door wider and she follows him in. His room is messy, but not gross. The bed is unmade, three half full water bottles on his nightstand, and there’s a pair of sweatpants on the floor… but at least it doesn’t stink!

His computer screen is paused mid-game, and she realizes that he’d still been holding his controller when he’d opened up the door for her. He throws a jacket that had been thrown on the back of his chair onto the bed, and motions for her to sit. Then he pulls up another chair that was sitting in the corner of his room to sit next to her.

“Let’s see it,” he says, shutting down his computer.

“So…” she takes her laptop out of her bag, setting it down on his desk and turning it on so that she can open up her homework assignment. While it loads, she unlocks her ipad to the scratch work she’d done last night. “I was trying to do the homework last night, and I think I’m supposed to be doing integration by parts but honestly I’m not even sure how to do that… so I’m kind of lost.”

Harry leans over her ipad and looks at the work she’d done. It’s… wrong.

“Can I see your notes for integration by parts?” He asks, trying to figure out how she ended up with 1 as her answer when it should be a much larger, much more complicated mix of trig and integrals. She scrolls up until she lands on a page titled Chapter 7, and points to the second example on the problem. Her notes are cute, written in pink with girlish, bubbly handwriting. However, it’s clear that she’d been struggling to keep up with the lecture, some of her work completely scribbled out and replaced with messy numbers and formulas. Next to one of the big portions of scribbled out math, she's written “WHAT???” along with a sad face doodled underneath it.

Clearly she’s a bit confused.

“Okay…” he scrolls down to a new page in her digital notebook and copies down the example problem that had confused her. “Let me show you how you do integration by parts first, and then we’ll look at the homework problem, okay?”

“M’kay,” she hums compliantly, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her sleeves. She feels a bit… nervous. She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s stupid. But she’d rather have her ego a little bruised than fail the next midterm too.

“So… you do integration by parts when you can’t just do normal integration… usually if there’s e^x in there or a natural log then you know that you have to do integration by parts.”

She nods, following along quietly.

“In this one… you have x times e^x dx… you have to break it up into two parts, U and dV. And then you take the derivative of U and find the integral of dV. And you plug that into the formula. Do you know the formula?”

She blinks at him. “Um…” she shuffles through her notes and finds it. “It’s this.”

“Good… so what you do is you assign x to either U or dV and then e^x(dx) to the other… and then you find dU and V based off of that. Should we make x be U or dV?”

She purses her lips, “Make x=U?”

“Yes…” he nods. “Do you know why?”

She shrugs. “I guessed.”

His lip quirks up in the first smile y/n’s ever seen from him, a slight dimple popping up in his cheek. “S’cos we have to either find the derivative of U, or find the integral of dV. It’s way easier to use the derivative of x, cause it’s just one. If we made x equal to dV… then we’d add a fraction and a power of two to our equation and it’ll just make things ugly.”

“Oh.” She stares at his hands as he writes down what he just said in math terms, scribbling in his boyish handwriting that U=x and dU=1. “Okay.”

“So if U=x, then dV is equal to….”

“e^x?” she answers.

“Good,” he says gently. “And what is V?”

She stays silent for a moment, searching the paper as if it’ll give her an answer. He senses her confusion and helps her out, saying, “IF V is the integral of dV, and dV is e^x…”

“Well Isn’t the integral of e^x still e^x?” Her voice is unconfident, looking up at Harry with wide, round eyes.

“You’re right,” he says encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. “Stop doubting yourself so much.”

A reciprocating smile spreads on her face, feeling a little more confident with Harry’s praise.

“All you do now is put your numbers into the formula. Can you do it?”

He hands the pen over to her, their fingers brushing. Her hair falls in front of her face as she leans over the page to write down her answer, and Harry watches softly as she tucks it back behind her ear. He notices how long and delicate her eyelashes are as he stares at her side profile.

“Is that right?” she asks quietly, trying hard to be confident but still so nervous that she’s done it wrong.

He tears his eyes away from her face. “Almost,” he says, leaning forward. Their arms brush against each other, the space that they initially had set between their chairs having shrunk as they worked on the problem together. She can feel his breath as he quietly murmurs next to her ear, “You just need to add +C at the end.”

She furrows her eyebrows and turns her head towards him, and feels her heart stutter as she realizes how close their faces actually are. “What does the +C mean?”

“It’s just like… it’s supposed to represent any constants that we couldn’t find. Because when you take the derivative of a constant it just ends up being zero, so when you’re given an integral and doing the anti-differential process… you don’t know if there was actually a constant there or what it was. So the +C is just representing any constant value that could’ve been in the answer, even though you don’t know what the number is.”

She blinks at him. “Um… okay. I’ll just pretend like that made sense.”

He chuckles, the first time she’s probably ever heard him laugh. “It’s honestly not that important to get it. Just remember to add +C every time you take an integral.”

“Got it…” she says, adding the +C.

“Think you can do the next one on your own?”

+++

“Harry,” y/n pouts. “It says I’m wrong but I dunno why.”

He pauses his game and slides out of his seat, going over to y/n. She’d relocated to his bed after they did a couple more problems together and felt confident enough to do the rest by herself. His chest brushing against her back softly as he leans over her shoulder, going over her work. “What’s the integral of sin(x)?”

“Cos(x),” she says confidently.

“Not quite…”

She sits there for a second, brows furrowed. “Oh!” she adds a negative in front of the cos(x).

“There you go,” he grins down at her.

She lays down on his bed, her hair splaying out behind her as she throws her ipad on his bed, relieved. “Harry. You’re a genius.”

He laughs, a quiet huff of air that passes out of his nose with an amused smile on his face. “So it makes sense?”

“I think you should be teaching our class. You’re so good. Thank you for helping me.”

He hums, giving her a satisfied smirk, and goes back to his game while she finishes her homework. It's a strange setup, sitting in his bed and doing her homework while he plays, but she doesn’t mind it.

In fact, it’s kind of nice.

Harry’s kind of nice.

She kind of likes Harry.

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hope u guys loved it!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (july 29) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine - part 2 (already posted on patreon!) : In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #grumpyrry #grumpy harry #mean harry

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rosesareredrosa · 1 month

Text

50 Shades of Grey

Theo Nott x fem reader

Summary: Theo finds one of y/n favorite books on her nights stand which is 50 shades of Grey

w/c: 939

a/n: Some smut not that bad ig i am shit at writing smut

Once I got to my dorm, knowing Theodore, he was already out there sparking up. I stepped in to find Theo with a lit blunt between his lips, his feet kicked up, and he was slouched down in a chair reading a book? Theo wasn't much of a reader, so this surprised me. "Hey! What are you reading reading?" I nonchalantly asked, not even glancing at the cover.

"I don't know. You tell me. It was on your nightstand," he responded, looking at me mischievously. Then it dawned on me. Oh my god! He was reading one of my dark romance novels that I left on my nightstand the night prior. I thought about grabbing it from him, but chances are it was too late. He was already several pages deep.

It was one of my favorites Fifty Shades of Grey. There were a lot of detailed and deranged sexual encounters in it.

"What? You into it?" I teased him. "I'll be honest - kind of," he smirked, and he passed me the blunt he'd rolled. "Why don't you just do one-night stands like the rest of us?" Theo giggled, flipping to the next page, still reading it. I rolled my eyes and took a few puffs. "If you must know," I started, passing the blunt back to Theo, "I do, but sometimes I prefer to read it," I said, biting my lip. "Really? How come?" He looked at me intrigued. "Well, I like how detailed the books are, and I like that I can imagine anyone I want when I'm reading books. When you're with others, you're stuck with whatever usually unattractive person that not my type. Plus, I like having my mind stimulated, not just my eyes and my body," I said, shrugging.

"Oh yeah? And what hot guys do you picture?" Theo asked, teasing me, passing me the weed again. "Like I'd ever tell you," I scoffed. "Why not? Is it 'cause you think about me?" Theo jokingly asked me. However, I wasn't a good liar, and I did sometimes picture Theo. I couldn't help it. He was really hot, even though he was my best friend. I blushed and tried to hold back a grin as I passed him back the blunt. "So you do! You think of me like that?" Theo responded, seductively smiling at me while he took another hit. "No!" I said, but even I remained unconvinced at the way it sounded when it came out.

"Do you ever play with yourself while you're reading these books?" Theo wondered, biting his lip and looking me up and down. "Well, what else would one do with horny material?" I asked, smirking. "Does that mean you think about me when you touch yourself?" He questioned me. Theo loved to stir people up and make them uncomfortable, and it's one of the things, the way he could rile me up so easily.

"Shut up, Theodore," I said, slugging him in the arm. "It's a simple question you've yet to answer," Theo sneered at me. "You already know the answer to that," Theo. Did you come over here just to humiliate me?" I inquired. "Of course not. Only if you're into that," he shot me a look. I couldn't stop blushing.

"You know, this shit is well-written. It's actually making me a little hard," Theo admitted while he slowly started to stroke himself through his pants, looking up at me from the book. Ugh, he was doing this on purpose. "I'd love it if someone took care of it for me," he moaned, seductively grinning up at me and massaging the head of his cock through the fabric of his clothing.

I took in the lovely sight before me, Theo's blue eyes locked on mine, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his fingers grazing the bulge between his legs. I couldn't control what happened next.

I fell to my knees. I couldn't look at him like that and not help him. My mouth fell open as he took himself out of his sweatpants, It was only half-hard, but it was big. He placed it between my parted lips, and I felt it grow bigger as I explored all the ridges with my tongue, and he responded with a breathy and drawn-out "fuck."

I slowly and sensually worked my way around his whole manhood. I left a long lick, starting at the base of his shaft and ending at his tip. I did this a few times, teasing him while his eyes followed my tongue. His cock lightly twitched, begging to be taken wholly into my mouth.

As I wrapped my lips around the head and took him in as deep as I could, I heard him let out a primal moan. I bobbed my head up and down on him, lightly gagging and making sloppy sounds as my lips glided across his enticing dick. I ever so gently ran my teeth along the tip, eliciting more harmonious sounds from him. "This is the best head I've ever gotten, and I have slept with a lot of girls" Theo moaned breathlessly under the flit of my tongue.

The way he watched me, his facial expressions tainted by sexual desire, and his soft whimpers. I felt his dick throb against the roof of my mouth. "Oh god," he muttered while he emptied his seed into the back of my throat. It was thick and sweet and salty, and I obediently swallowed.

Theo let out a satisfied laugh. "Shit, do you have any more books like this? And can I borrow them sometime?" We should do this more often."

#slytherin x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x you #slytherin boys #theodore nott smut #theo nott #theodore smut

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ariestrxsh · 2 months

Text

╔═ ❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ ═╗

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, oral, mentions of masturbation, very light humiliation

✍️ Summary: ✍️ Your best friend Chris finds a book containing erotic literature on your nightstand and teases you about it. However, as he starts to flip through the pages, he starts to see the appeal, and you watch in real time as Chris discovers he actually likes it.

╚═ ❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ ═╝

"I'm so bored. Can I come over?" Chris asked when I picked up his call. "Sure you can. I'm still stuck at work for another hour, but my place is unlocked. Let yourself in, and I'll meet you there," I told him. "I'll bring the weed," he chuckled. "You better or else don't even bother coming over," I playfully replied. "I've got your favorite. Blue dream," he told me before hanging up.

I tied up a few loose ends at work, checked to see if my boss needed anything else, and I headed home.

Once I got to my place, I headed straight for the backyard. Knowing Chris, he was already out there sparking up. I stepped out onto my back porch to find Chris with a lit blunt between his lips, his feet kicked up, and he was slouched down in a chair reading a book? Chris wasn't much of a reader, so this surprised me. "Hey! Whatcha reading?" I nonchalantly asked, not even glancing at the cover.

"I don't know. You tell me. It was on your nightstand," he responded, looking at me mischievously. Then it dawned on me. Oh my god! He was reading one of my dark fantasy romance novels that I left on my nightstand the night prior. I thought about grabbing it from him, but chances are it was too late. He was already several pages deep.

It was one of my favorites. It was a story set in medieval times where a princess is captured by a man who was sent to kill her, but instead, he captures her and ends up fucking her and falling in love with her. There were a lot of detailed and deranged sexual encounters in it. The book is from the princess' point of view and deals with her internal monolog of falling in love with her captor and the shame she feels about liking everything he does to her.

"What? You into it?" I teased him. "I'll be honest - kind of," he smirked, and he passed me the blunt he'd rolled. "Why don't you just watch porn like the rest of us?" Chris giggled, flipping to the next page, still reading it. I rolled my eyes and took a few puffs. "If you must know," I started, passing the blunt back to Chris, "I do watch porn, but sometimes I prefer to read it," I said, biting my lip. "Really? How come?" He looked at me intrigued. "Well, I like how detailed the books are, and I like that I can imagine anyone I want when I'm reading books. When you're watching porn, you're stuck with whatever usually unattractive male actors that they give you. Plus, I like having my mind stimulated, not just my eyes and my body," I said, shrugging.

"Oh yeah? And what hot guys do you picture?" Chris asked, teasing me, passing me the weed again. "Like I'd ever tell you," I scoffed. "Why not? Is it 'cause you think about me?" Chris jokingly asked me. However, I wasn't a good liar, and I did sometimes picture Chris. I couldn't help it. He was really hot, even though he was my best friend. I blushed and tried to hold back a grin as I passed him back the blunt. "No way! You think of me like that?" Chris responded, seductively smiling at me while he took another hit. "No!" I said, but even I remained unconvinced at the way it sounded when it came out.

"Do you ever play with yourself while you're reading these books?" Chris wondered, biting his lip and looking me up and down. "Well, what else would one do with pornographic material?" I rhetorically asked, smirking. "Does that mean you think about me when you touch yourself?" He questioned me, putting out the roach in my ashtray. Chris loved to stir people up and make them uncomfortable, and it's one of the things I found most attractive about him, the way he could rile me up so easily.

"Shut up, Chris," I said, slugging him in the arm. "It's a simple question you've yet to answer," Chris sneered at me. "You already know the answer to that, Chris. Did you come over here just to humiliate me?" I inquired. "Of course not. Only if you're into that," he shot me a look. I couldn't stop blushing.

"You know, this shit is well-written. It's actually making me a little hard," Chris admitted while he slowly started to stroke himself through his pants, looking up at me from the book. Ugh, he was doing this on purpose. "I'd love it if someone took care of it for me," he moaned, seductively grinning up at me and massaging the head of his cock through the fabric of his clothing.

I took in the lovely sight before me, Chris' ocean blue eyes locked on mine, his pouty bottom lip caught between his teeth, his fingers grazing the bulge between his legs. I couldn't control what happened next.

I helplessly fell to my knees. I couldn't look at him like that and not help him. My mouth fell open as he took himself out of his sweatpants, and I stared in awe at the way it looked. It was only half-hard, but it was big. He placed it between my parted lips, and I felt it grow bigger as I explored all the ridges with my tongue, and he responded with a breathy and drawn out "fuuuuck."

As I wrapped my lips around the head and took him in as deep as I could, I heard him let out a primal moan. I bobbed my head up and down on him, lightly gagging and making sloppy sounds as my lips glided across his enticing dick. I ever so gently ran my teeth along the tip, eliciting more harmonious sounds from him. "This is the best head I've ever gotten," Chris moaned breathlessly under the flit of my tongue.

I was obsessed with the way he watched me, his facial expressions tainted by sexual desire, and his soft whimpers. I felt his dick pulsate against the roof of my mouth. "Oh god," he muttered while he emptied his seed into the back of my throat. It was thick and sweet and salty, and I graciously swallowed.

Chris let out a satisfied laugh as I wiped my spit off my face. "Shit, do you have any more books like this? And can I please borrow them sometime?"

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo

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xx-like-a-villian-xx · 7 months

Text

I'd Love To Watch

You’re forced to share a room with Noah and he wonders what book you’re reading.

This one is for all my dark romance reading babes, stay slay 🥀

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, (I have so many WIPs)

CW: one bed trope (ugh my fave), mentions of dark romance, fingering, Noah is a MUNCH, squirting, forced proximity (let me know if I need to add any more)

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, staring at the second suitcase in the bedroom that you called dibs on when you arrived at the Airbnb. “Matt, who put their shit in my room?” You call out to your best friend and tour manager who walks towards you, a smug smirk on his face.

”Well Noah kept saying he would take the couch but there’s a California King in there so I told him he should just bunk in with you tonight.” He leans against the doorframe, grinning. “Call it team building.”

”Team building?” You scoff, exasperated.

All you want is one night to yourself without being stuck in a bus full of sweaty guys and Matt thinks it's funny to let the man you’ve been trying to avoid all tour share your room.

Noah doesn’t like you, it’s been clear since day one. Every time he talks to you he’s so patronising and cocky it makes your blood boil but it’s not like you can say much. You’re just their merch girl after all, replaceable. If it wasn’t for Matt you wouldn’t even have the opportunity so you keep your mouth closed and stay out of Noah’s way unless it’s important.

“Does Noah know that we’re sharing?” You fold your arms over your chest, staring at your best friend.

Matt chuckles. “More than aware, he actually seemed fine with it.” Your eyebrow raises in surprise and he laughs. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You watch Matt retreat to his room and get to work pulling your pyjamas out from your suitcase, locking yourself in the bathroom to get ready for what you now know is going to be a hell of a long night.

While brushing your teeth you hear someone shuffle into the bedroom and you groan internally. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, you gather your discarded clothes from the day and take a deep breath before opening the en-suite door.

Noah is lying spread eagle on the bed, wearing a pair of basketball shorts with no top, scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence when you put your things back into your suitcase. You roll your eyes, grabbing your book to sit in the window seat across from the bed for a while, quietly reading to yourself. The silence is thick and you can hear his heavy breathing, distracting you from your book.

Your eyes flick from the dark romance novel to the man on the bed, eyes trailing over the expanses of ink that cover his toned skin and you feel heat pooling in your core.

”Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” His voice breaks you out of your trance and your eyes flick back to the words on the page.

You scoff. “I wasn’t staring, you just breathe really loud and it’s pissing me off.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart.”

The sound of movement reaches your ears but you daren’t look at him, lifting the book higher to hide your red face. Suddenly the novel is snatched from your hands and you scramble to grab it back from him.

”Heartless Heathens?” He hums, holding the book out of your reach as he reads the blurb then flicks through a couple of pages, eyes widening. “Jesus, Y/N. I didn’t realise you were into this kinky shit.”

Your face is tomato red, burning hot as you try to wrestle the book from his hands.

“Noah give me my book back!”

All he does is laugh, eyes flicking back and forth as he reads the page I had bookmarked. “Oh my god! ‘Does that tight pussy hurt when my fat cock stretches it out like this?’ Wow…”

His dark eyes meet yours and you squeeze them shut out of embarrassment, hiding your face with your hands.

”You like that shit, huh?” You can hear the amusement in his voice as steps forward, throwing the book down on the window seat. You want the ground to swallow you up when you feel him staring down at you.

You huff, removing your hands from your face. “Loads of people do, it’s just a book.”

“I mean, do you like that stuff? Guys talking to you like that in bed? Asking you if it hurts when they stretch you out on their cock?”

You laugh, he’s joking right? You look up at him and your mouth goes dry when you see his dark eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

”I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t been with anyone for a couple of years, I don’t really have the time.”

Noah looks taken aback at your words and his lips turn up into a smirk. “A pretty girl like you? Surely you have guys begging for a chance in every state we visit.”

You chortle, crossing your arms. “Unlike most guys, I don’t need sex.”

He scoffs, picking the book back up. “So you just read this casually?”

”Most of the time.”

”And the rest of the time?”

The hot flush returns to your cheeks, reaching the tips of your ears. “That’s none of your business.”

He starts to flick through the pages again, humming as he reads. “Can I take a guess?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, go ahead.” You throw yourself down onto the bed, sitting against the headboard as he paces, reading.

“I think you like this Corvin guy most, I can imagine you getting all hot and bothered when you read his parts and you can’t help but find yourself fingerfucking yourself in your bunk when everyone is asleep.” His head tilts when he stops to look at you, his eyes searching for the telltale signs of your arousal, grinning when he sees your thighs clench together. “Am I correct?”

You shake your head in disbelief. What’s his game and why is he trying to get under your skin over some book. Your underwear feels damp from the wetness that is pooling at your core from his words and you have to stop yourself from lunging at him, to either punch him or kiss him…you’re unsure which one would be more satisfying.

”C’mon Y/N, tell me.” He sits next to you, pointing at a section where the main character is riding Corvin. “Is this what you get off to?”

You feel all too hot and bothered with him sitting next to you with his shirt off, tattooed skin taunting you as he tries to coerce the secrets of your alone time out of you.

”If I wasn’t in here right now is that what you’d be doing? Getting off over your little dark romance book?”

”What’s your deal Noah? Why do you want to know about all this?” You sit up straighter and he lounges back, eyeing you humorously.

He shrugs. “It’s just cute that you read this horny stuff. I never took you as the type to get riled up by it, is all.”

”You’d be surprised.” You mumble and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

”You read worse?”

”Oh shut up, Noah. It’s just dumb fiction, why are we even still talking about this?”

He turns to his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes burning into the side of your head. “Because I can tell how hot and bothered you are right now and it’s kind of sexy, I must admit.”

You gulp at his words, staring straight ahead in a conscious effort not to look at him or all of your resolve might falter.

”So tell me, were you so pissed about having to share this room because you wanted some special alone time tonight with your little smut novel?”

You can feel his smirk and the tension in the room thickens, turning into a storm cloud of lust.

”You can still do it, you know.”

Your eyes finally dart to his smug face and your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He shrugs casually. “You can still get yourself off, I could read to you if you want?”

Your swallow thickly, your core throbbing at his words. “No, that’s weird.”

Noah chuckles. “Masturbation isn’t we-“

”I fucking know that! What’s weird is you’re my boss and you’re offering to read to me while I make myself cum. Do you hear yourself?”

You can’t lie to yourself, the offer is almost too tempting. It’s not fair that the most attractive man you know is basically offering to help you get your rocks off but he hates you right? He’s always so moody and weird around you. Why is he being like this?

He sits up, scooting closer so your shoulders are touching and he leans close to your ear, his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. “Or I could tell you every wicked little fantasy I’ve had about you since you waltzed into the studio with Matt all those years back.’

Your eyebrows raise and you turn to him, his mouth just inches from yours. “You fantasise about me?”

He laughs, a smug sound that makes you want to punch him. “Oh yeah, my favourite is the one where I get to bend you over and rip apart those fishnets you love to wear, the ones with the lace flowers on.” His eyes darken as he reminisces over the lewd thoughts and your mind wanders.

How would it feel to have his hands all over you, tearing away those expensive tights that you adore? How would it feel to have him buried to the hilt inside you as he pushes your head into whatever surface he can find? Fuck its all too much.

”Noah, we shouldn’t talk about this stuff.” You try to reason with yourself but your resolve quickly disappears when his long inked finger trails up the bare skin of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your silky black pyjama shorts.

“Why? We’re both adults.” He smiles almost innocently.

”Because you don’t like me.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Since when? Didn’t I just tell you that I literally think about how I want to bend you over?”

You roll your eyes. “You literally talk to me like shit the majority of the time.”

”I like watching you squirm.” His smile is cocky and it only sends more electricity to your core because he’s right, he does make you squirm and you like it too.

A lust filled silence lingers in the air as he stares into your eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips.

”So do you still want to get yourself off, I’d love to watch.” He cocks an eyebrow and there it is, the last of your resolve leaving out the window.

”Fine.”

He’s like a kid in a candy shop when he sits up, watching you lie down on the bed. Your heart hammers in your chest as you close your eyes, trying to pretend he isn’t there. You slide the silk shorts down your legs, leaving the black lace thong on and your hand travels over the soft fabric, running over the damp patch that is only getting bigger.

You gasp when you slide your hand between the fabric, fingers slipping between your slick folds, easily finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that's been begging to be touched since you walked out of the bathroom to find Noah sprawled out shirtless on the bed. Oh how you wanted to just climb on top of him, to sink down on his cock like you owned him.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips when you circle your clit, slowly teasing yourself to the images of Noah’s cock buried deep inside your cunt. You feel him shift next to you to get a better look at your movements, how your fingers move under the dark lace of your panties. You hear him take a shaky breath and it sends shockwaves to your sensitive core.

“Does that feel good?” His voice is deep, coarse in your ear and you whine out a confirmation, moving your fingers faster over your clit. “God, you don’t know how good you sound. Do you like it when I talk to you?”

”Y-yes.” You sigh and he chuckles.

”Such a good girl.” He whispers, breath tickling your ear. “Do you want me to tell you what to do, huh? Do you want to be good for me and remove your underwear so I can see how you touch that pretty little pussy? God, I bet it’s so perfect.”

You whimper, using your spare hand to push the lace down your thighs, kicking them off as you toy with yourself. Noah leans forward, a hand landing on your thigh to pull your legs further apart and a feral groan leaves his throat when you spread yourself open for him to see just how wet you are, fingers covered in wet slick.

”Oh fuck, you look so good sweetheart. Show me how you bury those pretty fingers in there.”

You push two fingers into your core, the wet sound reaching your ears. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. You hear Noah’s breathing quicken as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, soft moans leaving your bitten lips.

”Doing so fucking well for me.” The praise feels like heaven when it meets your ears and you speed up, curling your fingers upwards. “Fuck, what I would do to bury my own fingers inside you.”

”Please.” You whine, opening your eyes to look at him, your breath coming out in pants when his lust blown eyes meet yours.

“Please what?” He smirks, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear as you find your clit again, rubbing your soaked fingers over the sensitive bud.

“I need your fingers inside me, please.” You’re so fucking needy and you can tell how much he gets off on it by how his smirk grows into a cruel grin and he holds his fingers against your plump lips.

”Are you gonna suck them for me? Get them nice and wet like the good little slut you are?” Your eyes roll back at his words and he gasps when your tongue swirls around the calloused pads of his fingers, soaking them with your saliva.

He pushes two long fingers into your warm mouth and you hollow your cheeks around them, staring up at him with innocent eyes that make his aching cock strain against his shorts. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and trails them down the valley of your clothed chest, down your navel to where your own fingers are still toying with your clit. Your eyes follow and your hand moves, giving him full access to where you need him most.

”You gonna watch me fuck you with my fingers huh?” He smiles sweetly, sliding his fingers up and down your drenched folds teasingly.

You nod, leaning up on your elbows to watch his slender fingers disappear between your folds, rubbing tight circles around your clit and you gasp his name, your mouth falling open at the immense pleasure. He chuckles, sliding them to your entrance to gather the wetness that pools there, moving back to your clit to play with it all too slowly.

”Please Noah.” You whine and he tuts.

”Be patient, I’ll get there. I want a better look.”

He moves to lie between your legs, pushing your legs further apart to get a good look at your glistening cunt. You can feel his breath hot against you and you could just cum right there without him even touching you, especially with how he looks up at you through those long lashes, eyes black and predatory like he wants to eat you whole.

“You’ve got such a perfect pussy, fuck.” He groans, pushes his long middle finger in, the dark ink disappearing inch by inch inside your cunt and you moan louder than expected, your hand flying to your mouth to keep yourself quiet. “Fuck, it feels so good, so soft.”

A second finger joins the first and he slowly curls them, finding that spot that leaves you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back, your head lolling back on your shoulders. His spare hand grips your inner thigh with a bruising hold and you're sure there will be bruises there tomorrow but you don’t mind, it feels like heaven.

”My mouth is so close to your pussy I can practically taste you.” He growls and your hips buck, pushing his fingers even deeper inside you. He chuckles darkly. “Do you want me to taste you?”

You sob, nodding enthusiastically.

”Use your words, pretty girl.” He hums, kissing your pelvic bone.

”Please taste me.”

He hums, his hot tongue dragging over your folds before his lips close around your clit, leaving you gobsmacked from how fucking good his tongue feels against you with his fingers fucking into you.

You’re close, you can feel that tightness building in your lower abdomen, so fucking close. His fingers curl faster, his tongue lapping over your clit like you’re the last water source on Earth and you’re falling. Your legs shake, a feral groan leaving your lips as your orgasm rips through your body like a fucking tornado. His fingers only move faster as his lips leave your sensitive clit and you're tipping over the edge again just as quickly, gushing around his fingers and the bed sheets below.

”Fuck, good girl!” He grins, lapping your sweet nectar from your thighs. “Think you’ve got another?”

You have no time to protest, he rises to slide between your thighs, fingers still buried deep inside your cunt as he stares down at you, curling them fast exactly where he knows he can drag another orgasm from you. His free hand covers your mouth when you cum again, screaming into his palm, soaking the front of his shorts where his leaking cock strains against them.

”Good fucking girl, well done!” He kisses your forehead, pulling his drenched hand away from your sensitive core to suck his fingers clean.

You stare at him in bewilderment when he smiles down at you. You’re in shock at how much you just came for a man you thought hated you half an hour ago.

”I think I need to catch you reading more.” He chuckles.

”Shut the fuck up.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into a searing kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“So you two didn’t kill each other last night?” Matt smirks when you make your way downstairs in the morning, wearing one of Noah’s shirts with him freshly showered following behind you.

Folio storms past, looking a little worse for wear. “I would’ve preferred it if they did, I need to bleach my ears.” He groans, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

You blush bright red, throwing a grape at the drummer and Noah wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into his lap.

”Guess my plan worked then.” Matt chuckles, popping a grape in his mouth with a grin.

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens band #bad omens #bad omens fic #bad omens cult #band fic #fanfiction

980 notes · View notes

milswrites · 6 months

Text

The Bat Boys X Bookworm!Reader

Summary: What the Bat Boys (and Eris & Lucien) are like with their bookworm partners

Warnings: Lil smutty and nsfw (not too much just want to cover myself) so 18+ MDNI

Notes: Just a bit of fun really, it's different to what I usually write but I hope you guys like it!

Rhysand

Rhysand loves you

And if loving you means that he has to feed your obsession with buying books?

Then he would happily clear out all the bookshops in Velaris if it meant getting to see you smile.

Rhysand is rich-rich.

Which means if there's something you want? He'll buy it for you without question.

You once mentioned about how much you'd love your own library one day.

So of course by the end of the week you had your own little haven inside Rhysand's house with more books than you could ever dream of reading and your own little ladder to reach them all.

But he didn't stop there.

For your mating gift he purchased you your very own library in Velaris

In which Rhys may or may not have enacted his fantasies of sleeping with a Librarian.

Whilst Rhysand does like to read, his taste in books is very different to your own.

But even though he doesn't read the books you do, he's more than happy to sit and listen to you talk about your favourite ones for hours if that meant being able to see your eyes light up as you talked about something you loved.

But no books nor libraries could top the best gift he had ever given you.

A hand-written book containing the story of your relationionship.

Complete with crude little comments and drawings the High Lord had scribbled down in the margins.

Rhysand loved history.

So what better way to preserve his undying love for you than in-between the pages of a book which would last forever.

Cassian

Cassian had never been very interested in books.

He'd much rather experience the thrill of real fighting and action in person than spend his time reading about it on some dusty old pages.

In fact the only time Cassian had been in a library he had the terrifying encounter with Bryaxis.

Safe to say that the trauma he experienced was the perfect excuse for never stepping in one again.

Until he met you.

Cassian has always been the type of guy who's all in or nothing.

He discovers the person he has a crush on likes reading?

You know he's going to be walking around with books he's never even opened pretending like he is a well-read Illyrian.

Citing quotes he doesn't even understand just to try and impress you.

And once you're together?

You show Cassian exactly what he's missed out on when it comes to reading.

Especially when it comes to getting tips for your bedroom activities.

For months after you revealed to him the wonders that are smut books, Cassian would spend his free time delving through the pages looking for new ideas on how to spice up your sex life.

Claiming his increased interest in reading was due to 'research purposes'

Cassian is 100% down to roleplay characters from your novels

He loves being the big strong hero to your damsel.

Whenever Cassian catches you reading, happily curled into the comfort of your sofa, he'll approach with a smirk on his lips

"Any new tricks you'd like to try out? I think page 69 is worth a shot."

Azriel

Azriel's a busy guy.

He's always away on missions for Rhysand or working in the dungeons of the Court of Nightmare's

So he can be forgiven if when he comes home, reading is the last thing on his mind.

But what he does enjoy though, is when you read to him.

He can lay with his head in your lap for hours.

Humming along to whatever tale you tell whether it's fantasy, romance or a good thriller

Sometimes he'll even offer his input. Laugh when something especially funny happens or shed a tear whenever a character he likes died.

Azriel loves the sound of your voice

Enjoying the way you put on voices whenever a character is speaking.

He's grown to like the sense of domesticity that he feels whenever you read to him. Allowing himself to imagine you doing this to two little Illyrian babies of your own.

Reading to your wide eyed children as they are gripped by the tales you're telling

Azriel is also a gentleman.

Need a hand with carrying the books you're choosing whilst you shop?

He's there

Hands willingly taking everything you stack on top of him, trailing after you with your selections like a lost puppy.

And when you get to the till?

Azriel had already spoken to the shopkeeper upon entry and added anything you chose to his account. Claiming the books were just as much his as they were yours if you were going to read them to him.

Azriel is definitely the type of male who likes you to read your smut to him as he pleasures you, acting out the words on the page until you're unable to speak anymore, leaving the rest of the chapter to your own imagination.

Eris

Eris is a reader.

He loves nothing more than to settle down after a long day with a good book in hand and a steaming tea.

You can't tell me he doesn't find it the hottest thing ever when he discovers you like to read too

The two of you have your own little book club

You'll each read the same book and then have a little meeting when it's over to discuss what you thought of it.

He can also get really emotional and intense about them.

God knows the amount of times you've had to calm him down when a character has made a choice he didn't like.

I think Eris definitely likes to write too

Not seriously, but it's a good way for him to get his thoughts out and to escape from the day to day of his reality.

And he loves to have you read his work

To see the way your face lights with joy as your eyes flick through his beautiful prose.

A small smile upon his lips at the knowledge that the muse for his writings was you.

Lucien

Lucien also likes to read.

But the way you read?

It terrifies him.

The way you obsess over the characters from your stories.

Your passionate opinions on their decisions and the plots.

God forbid Lucien says something about them that you don't agree with.

Lucien finds you positively feral when it comes to the stories you like.

But that doesn't stop him from wanting to show interest in them too.

Lucien likes to read all your favorite books and leave annotations of his thoughts in the margins.

This was exactly how the two of you had gotten together, the male having gifted you with a copy of a book he had noticed you reading.

The pages filled with scratchy comments and opinions on everything that happened.

Lucien pours his soul into his annotations and you love that.

Lucien is also a poetry man.

He loves to recite verses to you which stick out to him

Sometimes they were romantic, making your heart stop in your chest and breath catch in your throat.

But Lucien was also a fan of satirical poetry

The most ridiculous, corny things you have ever heard.

He'll come find you as you're going about your day and recite his latest read to you - your eyes rolling to the back as you did so, yet you fail to hide the smile which crosses your face every time he does so.

He has also tried to write you poetry before, express the depth of his feelings towards you. Safe to say his lame attempt of a limerick earnt him a scoff and had you hiding all his poetry books from him for the next month.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #cassian x reader #eris vanserra x reader #cassian #eris vanserra #rhysand x reader #rhysand #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader

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mrsmandalorian · 4 months

Text

burning love

-- angst one shot jackson!joel miller x f! reader

summary: a secret affair goes a little too far.

main masterlist / word count: 7.8k

warnings: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, outbreak!AU, CHEATING, spoilers to TLOU season 2, age-gap relationship, angst!, smut!!!, p in v, fingering, nipple play, sexual teasing, a lot of making out, use of words like pussy, cock, pet names ( baby, baby girl, angel), language, burning building, intense near-death situation.

a/n: howdy loves! this story comes from many places of inspiration from the new season 2 picture to the many fics and tiktoks of the voice memos from "calls" of pedro. i hope you guys all enjoy it! leave me a like, comment, or reblog to show your love. much love to you all - maddie!

The winter snow was finally drying up as the town of Jackson prepared for warmer months. Business in the sewing shop started to slow down a little more since people tended not to care as much for the holes in their clothes in warmer weather. You found more time to catch up on your romance novels and daydreaming. The time was also filled with making alterations to your soon-to-be wedding dress. You were finally set to have an official wedding with your husband, Tripp. You both had considered each other married a long time ago.

You and Tripp had been from a small town in Kansas. Your families were neighbors and fought together for the first fifteen years of the apocalyptic world. You both were only thirteen years old when the world went to shit. Your parents had always set you two up to marry one another. All you knew was Tripp; he was your first kiss, sex, boyfriend, and now husband. You each had to risk your lives for one another at a time or two. He was always there for you like a good man should be for his wife.

The two of you ended up in Jackson after five years of being on your own after your families had gotten infected or passed away from natural causes. Your families were doomsday preppers that had been right about the world. They had turned your neighborhood into a safe place. You and Tripp had stayed in Kansas for two years until the Raiders came. Luckily, Tripp had seen them early, and you could escape with many supplies.

Once escaping, the two of you survived another six months, savaging around for a safe place to lay your head. Sadly, some raiders had caught up with you. Tripp had saved your life from becoming their little toy, but he was severely injured. The infection from the wound had almost killed him. The memory of those days was the most terrifying time of your life. You would be left alone in this lonely, broken world. You were a strong woman. You could make it out there for a while, but you knew you would give up hope. You had almost entirely given up as a group of strangers came riding up on horses to the little house that you had dragged Tripp’s incapacitated body to. The riders went through the house with guns and masks covering half of their faces. You wept as you begged them not to kill you or your husband. He was not infected. You had screamed as they pushed a gun up to his head.

The woman in the group had pulled down her mask, making you less intimidated. She told you she believed you and would help you—only if you would help her. She had seen your supplies and knew you had to have more somewhere. You told her where your childhood neighborhood was and where they could find more supplies if there were any.

Maria had taken you and Tripp into their small town of Jackson and cared for you both. Luckily, Tripp was fully recovered, and both had been given a beautiful place to call home with all the usual life amenities and jobs to occupy your time.

Tripp had taken a job working in many roles and worked himself up to join the Jackson council. He was brilliant for his age and wanted to help others, especially those who saved their lives. He cared to see this place flourish and play a significant role in the community while you liked your small role and tasks and enjoyed the comfort of your cozy home.

After a year of living in Jackson, Tripp decided to make things official with you. He had gotten everything organized with the help of the ladies in town. They had found a beautiful wedding gown for you and wedding bands customized for the two of you.

You would have never dreamed of having an everyday life after the world went to shit—the dream of enjoying your novels with a warm fire and not worrying about your next meal. Your life was near perfect with your fantastic husband.

As you got comfortable in this new life, you realized that your love for Tripp was not what you read in your books. You both came together at night to the same bed, sometimes ending in an intimate moment. It felt like a chore. Everything started to feel like a chore with him, but he’s all you have ever known and cared for. He was so good and loyal to you that you thought wrong for not feeling the same. You were comfortable with him.

Three months after coming to Jackson, a patrol group returned from savaging and visiting your childhood neighbors. Maria’s husband, Tommy, was one of the groups Tripp had introduced you to that evening, along with a few others, including Tommy’s brother, Joel.

At your first impression of Joel, you were scared of the gossip Maria had told you once when you went to her house. His facial expression and personality did not help make you more comfortable with him. From what you could see and hear, he was a dangerous, angry man with a past.

You met his daughter, Ellie, in the sewing shop one day as she brought in some of her and his clothes that had holes. She spoke highly about her father figure and told you how hard he had it. Her words made you sympathetic to him, so you kept an eye on him.

Joel did notice your eye on him. He kept one on you as well. He had learned your routine along with your soon-to-be husbands so he could spy on you without worrying about being seen. He finally got the courage to face you after Ellie complained that her favorite jacket didn’t fit her as well anymore, and she didn't have time to go to the sewing shop.

Joel took the chore for himself because he would get to see you. The interaction was the most awkward conversation ever. You had noticed him enter the shop without saying anything. You sat at the window with your eyes glued to the words of your smutty book, but your focus was on the man holding clothes at the counter, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Hello, I brought some of Ellie’s clothes to be altered if that’s okay.” He shyly grumbled under his breath, which he couldn’t catch. He tried hard not to stare at you too long where you sat reading one of your books that you always had your nose into. He went to the library after you returned some books once and read a few chapters. He was jealous of Tripp of what he was reading, wondering if you were getting ideas for the bedroom from these stories. He thought about those ideas a lot as well but with you.

You had finally gotten your nose out of your book and helped him with his armload of clothes. You awkwardly gave him an estimate of the time you would need and tried not to stare into his big brown eyes too long. You both only exchanged a few words, and then he left. The tension in the room was something you had never felt before. You almost felt embarrassed by how Joel’s appearance made you feel as you stumbled on your words, and your hands slightly shook as you took the clothes and handed him a receipt.

Joel also felt embarrassed about not speaking to you as much as he wished. He turned into a shy, blushing guy when it came to you. You were the most natural, beautiful person he had met in a long time. He could feel the warmth that you only shared with a few. The two of you were more similar than you would think, but you were still good, and he was terrible.

Your heart stung a little when Ellie showed up a few days later to pick up her clothes. You had dressed up nicely that day, finally giving yourself the courage to speak to Joel Miller. You had even hidden the small ring Tripp had given you long ago in the pocket of your jeans as you heard the bell ring on the door.

After Ellie left, you cursed yourself and placed the ring back onto your left hand. How could you think of another man that way and hurt a man who loves you as much as Tripp did? Your guilt from the action had driven you into bed with Tripp that night as you tried to make your thoughts of Joel disappear and fall back into love with your soon-to-be husband. The plan had worked until you were on the way to your shop and saw Joel Miller waiting outside the door waiting on you.

You slowly went to the shop and breathed deeply to calm your nerves. “Good morning, Joel. Ellie picked up her clothes yesterday.” you quickly muttered to him as you unlocked the shop door. He stepped aside nervously and to get out of the way of the door. You go inside, but his foot catches the door before it closes behind you. You look to meet his eyes quickly.

“I know. I came to see if you could help me with a present,” he replied quickly as you held eye contact, which made you lightly blush as you looked away.

“Sure,” you muttered, moving out of the way to let him inside the shop. “Yeah, I can probably help. Who's the present for?” you asked as you turned away and felt his presence following to the back of the shop as you set down your bags. You felt a little touched and excited that Joel brought you something to help him with.

Joel runs his hands together nervously, too occupied watching to answer your question. He shook himself out of his daze as he met your beautiful eyes. “Oh, it’s for Tommy and Maria for the baby,” he answered and looked around the store at some of the projects you had up for trade.

“Well, I sewed some smaller blankets and toys the other week, which would be perfect for a little babe,” you quickly answered and rushed over to the dedicated section of the shop for children. “I crafted her a good number of outfits for my present, but I think this neutral blanket would be perfect.”

He follows you and glances at your incredible craftsmanship. He ran his thick fingers over the soft fabric of the blankets, accidentally touching your hand as you reached for the blanket you described to him. Your hands didn't jerk away but had a quiet moment of your eyes meeting. Your suppressed thoughts came rushing through your mind from the contact, along with Joel’s fantasy from your smutty books. You quickly pull your hand away as you grab the blanket for him and walk swiftly to the counter.

“I could gift wrap this blanket for you as well,” you offered as you set the blanket on the counter and glanced at the broad man. He seems lost in thought as he looks through the other clothing offered at the shop.

Joel thought of things to bring up as he glanced through the clothing. He stopped and saw a familiar shirt in the racks that looked like one of Sarah’s favorite shirts. He ran his large hand over his face to shield his emotions from anyone's view.

You stood at the counter and watched his expression fall before he covered his face. Your curiosity and worry made you instantly frown at the thought of a distraught Joel. He continued to browse the shop as you wrapped the gift, keeping a close eye on him. He eventually strolled back up to the counter, still looking deep in thought and full of emotion on his brows.

“I got everything wrapped for you,” you offer him a gentle smile and walk around the counter to hand him the decorated present. His hands gently take the present from your hands as they gaze at each other; the emotion on his face pains you. You inadvertently held onto his hand and met his eyes. “Joel,” you mutter quickly, “I just wanted you to know if you need anyone to talk to about anything. Before, after, or current events. I’m here for you.”

Joel’s eyes were full of desperation and raw emotion. His heart in his chest dropped into his stomach. He had to tell himself to catch his breath as he struggled to speak. “Thanks,” he nodded quickly as he met your eyes. His thoughts were racing through his mind as your hand remained on his.

You nervously bite your lip as you slowly remove your hand from his calloused one. Joel nodded his head to say farewell. Once, he reached the other side of the door and took a deep breath. He caught himself smiling on the way back home.

For you, the awkward ending to the conversation made you worried that you tried too hard and scared him away. The interaction was on your mind for the rest of the day and the rest of the week.

It took Joel four days to get the courage to show his face inside the shop again. He went inside after seeing Tripp go into the council meeting, which usually lasted an hour or two. He stepped into the shop with light footsteps, heading straight to the counter. You walked out of the back, not hearing the doorbell. You had your wedding dress in hand, stopping dead in your tracks as you saw Joel Miller waiting for you. “Oh, hello, Joel. I didn’t hear you come in,” you scramble around and lay down your dress on the other side of the counter. “What can I help you with today?”

He gives you a slight smile as he watches you scramble. “ Um, I just came in to accept your offer,” he nervously says, wiping his hands on his jeans. The rest of the interaction was the best conversation you have ever had. The conversation started with many nerves, but once he sat down with you to enjoy coffee. He had opened up to you as you did with him. The two of you ended the conversation with a plan to do this again soon.

It was sooner than you thought when he came strolling into the shop three days later with free pastries in hand. Meeting twice a week became the new norm for you two. You had never told Tripp about these secret meetings with Joel in the shop. It was all innocent…until it wasn’t.

The tone of your relationship with Joel changed one evening as he helped you move some racks in the store. You had accidentally hit your head on the pole of the rack. Both laughed well, but Joel got to your level to check out the goose egg. The interaction moved slowly, eyes meeting as you both smiled big at the accident. The proximity of your faces made you catch your breath, mainly because of the growing tension. Before you know it, his warm lips met yours. Neither of you pulled away, letting your hands meet his face's sides. The kiss was the most passionate kiss you had experienced.

After a few moments, you jerked your lips from his and stood up quickly as you hit your head again. You let out a groan of agony and rubbed your head, “I’m so sorry. We shouldn’t have done that,” you muttered as he helped you up.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he uttered as his concerned eyes met yours. “Is your head okay?”

“You didn’t upset me at all. It was very nice. I, um, I don’t know. My head’s fine.” you giggled nervously and rubbed your goose egg on your head. He quickly found a plastic bag and ice to assist you with your injury. The silence spoke volumes as you both danced around each other and the kiss.

“I thought it was nice too. I’m sorry that I did it. I won’t do it again,” he pleaded as he started to get all his stuff together to leave. You quickly moved your way to him and laid a hand over his.

“Joel,” you muttered, nervously biting your lip as you cupped his cheek. Your eyes met his, and your lips met again as well. This kiss was a little more chaotic as his large hands met your hips. The passionate scene began as he pulled you in him and leaned you against the small table as he took control of the kiss. Your breathing was in unison as you hungrily groped at one another.

After a few moments, you pulled away and touched his chest. “No one can know,” you yelled out as he eased off of you.

He nodded, keeping his large hand on your hips as he pulled you into one more peck. “You don’t know how long I have dreamed of your lips,” he mutters against your lips and gives you one more peck for good measure.

His comment makes you blush as you think the same thoughts as the two of you who have grown closer to one another. “I’m serious, Joel. Not even Ellie can know of this. And no feelings either. I’m getting married in less than a month. It has to end before that,” you sternly say as you gesture between them.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbles as he pulls off of you and collects his stuff after seeing that the sun is about to set, which means Tripp will return from patrol soon. “Our little secret,” he winks at you with a smirk.

You teasingly roll your eyes at the broad man as he heads towards the door. “See ya later, Joel.” You let out as he gives you a wave and a wink. You sit at the little table and shake your head as you start blushing at the memories. The guilt was starting to set in, but the excitement of the thrill coexisted.

The subsequent few interactions with Joel happened inside the shop when Tripp had gone out to patrol or into a meeting. Only a little happened besides the make-out session with slow hands. You would talk about how you were feeling or the memories in the conversation.

The first time you two had decided to take your secret relationship to the next level, you had to be planned out, not in the romantic sense, but in the privacy sense. Joel’s naughty, sweet nothings had made you want to wait until you could fully enjoy your pleasures with one another instead of a few quickies.

After breakfast in the dining hall, you sat with Tripp and his patrol group as they discussed plans for their two-day savaging trip, which they would take up to a region they hadn’t explored recently. Families had given them requests for specific supplies and to watch for anything wedding-themed.

Your quick eye contact with Joel as everyone prepped their horses for the trip sent a shiver down your spine. Your legs squeezed together in anticipation of lying with your secret lover.

Tripp had pulled you into a loving hug and quick peck as he pledged to see you soon, hopefully with a surprise. The caring remarks squeezed your gut with guilt as you returned the loving looks, even if they were semi-fake.

Joel had disappeared before the horses left the gate, heading home to avoid making your plan too apparent to others. After poking around town for an extra fifteen minutes, you made your way down the street of homes with your hands full of a fake decoy of clothes that you might be delivered to someone. Only a few people wandered the streets at this hour.

Relief radiated from you as you stepped onto Joel’s doorstep's old wood. As you slipped inside, you knew the door was unlocked. The house was a comfortable temperature to discard your coat. You heard loud footsteps upstairs as you made your way up them. “Joel, I’m here,” you quietly announced.

His broad frame slips from what you would guess was his room, and he is wearing only an undershirt and his jeans. Seeing his large muscles and chest peeking out of the short-sleeved shirt made you turn red like a tomato. He looked sexier this way (which you didn’t think could be possible). “Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he says as his large hands find their familiar rhythm on your hips, pulling you closer to his toned body.

“I’m nervous,” you quickly admit to him as you chew on your lip. His eyes watched as your teeth sucked your lips with desperation, darkening from his thoughts. “I’ve only been with one person, and we could be doing everything wrong,” you joke nervously. His thumb runs against your cheek as he cups your face.

“You’re going to be just fine, angel. I’m going to teach you a thing or two, I bet,” Joel whispers against your lips as he lands his plush lips against yours.

You quickly pull away, looking up at him. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.” The nerves were getting the best of you as you wanted it to end.

“Slow down, angel. You are supposed to enjoy the foreplay. Do you know what foreplay is?” He asks as he pushes your body more against the wall.

“Of course I do. My books discuss foreplay, but I’ve always been too nervous to ask Tripp about it. I usually just touch Tripp a little and spit on my hand to wet myself and him, then we fuck.” You explain the way of your everyday sex life. It was all you knew how it went in the real world; your smutty books seemed like fantasy to the realism of your bedroom time. Tripp didn’t know of the dirty little books you were reading.

Joel chuckles as his large thumb runs against your partially opened lips, towering over you with a hungry look in his eye. The weeks of intimate make-outs and slow hands have worked up the anticipation. He is pulling you into a passionate kiss, holding you against the wall. One hand cupped and kept your face still; the other pressed against the wall above your head, enclosing you against the wall.

He nibbles on your lower lip, pulling on your lip until you let out a moan and distracting you from the work of his hands as they move down your body. “So many things to teach you, angel. You look mighty beautiful today,” he whispers against your lips as his fingers gaze at the edges of your dress, causing goosebumps to spread over your body. “I know we already discussed boundaries and safe words, but I want to hear it from you again.”

You were so caught up in the tension and his wandering hands that you nodded your head along with what he said while you processed it. “Oh, um, yellow means uncomfortable. Red means stop,” you mumble to him as your cheeks glow red.

“Good girl,” he groans as his fingers go up the skirt of your dress, running against your thighs full of goosebumps. He uses his pointer finger to run across your mound, “someone’s excited for this to happen.” He smirked as his dark eyes held heavy eye contact as he watched your reactions to his touch.

You let out a shaky breath as you try to untense your body. He started to kiss down your neck, which caused you to lean your head to the side. His worn face and kisses and nibbles cause you to let out a light moan against him. His fingers tease you as you push your hips into his palm.

“Let’s move to the bedroom, beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he gropes your ass. You nod in agreement because you can’t use your words.

He guides you into his clean bedroom. The bed looks like it was quickly made after he got up this morning. Sunlight peeks through his blinds, lighting the room well. He guides you to the edge of the bed, where his fingers find the zipper of your dress. He meets your eyes for approval and a dirty, smug look.

The anticipation of seeing you naked has been itching at Joel for weeks. His fingers delicately unzip you from your dress, leaving you in your undergarments. They were nothing special, but the look on Joel’s face would make you think that you had the sexiest Victoria's Secret lingerie on. Your cheeks turned a new shade of pink, and he asked quickly for consent to continue his work. He palms at your clothed breast gently, then gradually becomes more aggressive. You let out small sounds of pleasure as he works at your breast. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, continuing down to your neck and chest. He licked and kissed down your neck to chest, fingers finding the clasps of your bra.

You started to feel the guilt of not pleasuring Joel. You ran your hand up to cup his face, which caused him to look desperate, giving you a second of control. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled slightly as his fingers finally opened your bra. It fell down your shoulder; he pulled it wholly off your chest. The cold air contact made you whimper, making Joel’s desperate eyes change to a more dominant dark look.

He takes control quickly, setting you down on the bed. He pulls your legs through your panties and starts to kiss your breast, groping the other as he works. His clothed hips sat against yours as you lay on the edge of the bed. His hardened member pulsing against your core, your hands nervously find their way down to him. You rub him through his jeans as you think of a dirty idea.

You wrap your naked body around him, “Will you flip me on top, baby? I wanna try something,” you whimper out to him, which causes him to grin like a villain. He quickly flips and takes his shirt off.

“Do you want me to take my jeans off? They might be a little uncomfortable to sit on,” he quickly says as he doesn’t lean back yet onto the bed. His hands grip your waist to support you, looking up to you for a response.

“No, keep them on,” you mumble back with a light blush. You had never taken control of anything in the bedroom; your dirty thoughts were finally answered. You perched your slit right on top of his clothed member, which caused Joel to let out a shaky breath. He could not keep his eyes off your body and face, smirking like the luckiest man in the world.

You grind your hips against his clothed half, letting out a slight moan from the contact. His hands grip your ass as you continue. The contact from the jeans on your bare pussy was more intense than you thought. You continued to grind until you lost control for a few. Joel sat back and enjoyed watching you pleasure yourself on him.

“Maybe take your jeans off,” you blushed after enjoying yourself. You sat up for him to take them off, helping him unbuckle himself. You gawked at the size of him through his white underwear, swallowing hard as you nervously thought of how he would fit inside of you. He pulls his jeans off, leaning up to meet you in a passionate, messy kiss and holding your naked body against his.

“Look how wet you are for me, baby girl,” he mumbles against you as he pulls up the crotch of his jeans. The sign of your pleasure makes him more horny and want to show you more pleasure. He enjoys the sight of the bright blush and tries to hide your face as you giggle from him, calling out the wetness of his jeans. “I think I want to see for myself,” he bites his lip as he gently sets you on your side beside him. His fingers run up your thighs and gently spread your legs apart as you twist onto your back. You slowly allow him to spread your legs, admiring all of you. “Jesus, baby, soaking wet for me.”

He runs over your pussy lips with his large fingers, stimulating your clit with his other thumb. He smirked as you squirmed from the sensation, arching your back slightly. He continues to tease your sensitive exterior until you beg him for more. Between shaky breaths and moans, you met eyes with Joel as he smirked down at your pleasure, seeing him palming himself from your noises.

Joel finally reached up to your lips as you sucked on his fingers for a few moments, which caused him to let out a groan as you made flirty eye contact with him. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and slowly inserts them into your wet sensitive pussy. Your hand finds the sheets quickly as you moan for Joel. He starts a deep rhythm into you as his thumb works your clit. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he admires your current state. You grind yourself against his motions, which causes more intense pleasure.

“Fuck, Joel, I think I’m gonna cum,” you let out a desperate cry as you were confused by the new pressure Joel was showing you. You had touched yourself to your fantasies and done it to yourself, but this was much different (and better).

“You think? Has a man never made you cum?” he asks with a smug look as he continues to pleasure you, inserting another finger as you cry in pleasure. You shake your head no to him as your hands find your pebbly nipples and run your fingers across them. Joel watches you intensely grind against him and play with your nipples. He could almost cum in his pants from the sight. Your shaky breath and hip motions increase as he continues to finger fuck, “You got it, baby girl. Being such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers,” he praises you until you let out a sharp yelp of pleasure and came on his fingers.

You throw yourself onto the mattress as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit,” you mumble and look up to Joel as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your glossy pussy. He brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks one clean with a moan of pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You taste as good as I thought,” he says as he smirks, cleaning you off his fingers.

Your eyes wander down to his package, and you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his throbbing member. You reach your hand up to him, leaning forward. You take his long shaft into your hand and palm him gently. Joel’s head throws back from the contact, groaning in pleasure.

Everything moves quickly from this moment on. You help Joel take his underwear off and pump his pre-cum leaking cock. You lean over and give his tip a dramatic kiss as you look up to meet his dark eyes. You eventually guide him inside your mouth for a few moments to give him a little loving.

He lets out a loud moan as he grips your hair, as you use your mouth to please him immensely. You pull off of him with a prominent chin on your face, which he cups and gives you a messy kiss. Before you know it, he flips you onto your knees, and he is behind you now. He gropes at your breast, and his sizeable naked cock grinds against your ass. “Are you ready, angel?” he asks as he leans you up to each other and waits for your response.

“Yes, Joel, more than ready,” you giggle to him as your legs shake in anticipation. One of his large hands wraps around the hip to your front, holding you against him. He lined up their bodies, inserting his thick head into you. Your head throws back in pleasure as he slowly inserts himself fully into you. “Joel, fuck,” you let the whimper as you let your body fall against his as he starts to thrust slowly into you.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asks into your ear as he slows his actions for your response.

“You're so big, Joel, but you feel so good,” you breathly moan at him, grinding your hips into his thurst.

“You're taking me so well, baby girl. Feels so good,” he groans in pleasure as his grip on your hips tightens, thrusting deep.

The intimate fucking lasted until nightfall, with many orgasms occurring. At the end of the moment, Joel and you are lying on your backs, trying to catch your breath as you giggle with one another.

“That was better than I could ever imagine, baby girl. ,” he says as he holds you close and kisses your neck. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, rubbing your breasts against him.

Joel helped you wash off and prepare to go home for the night. The interaction was friendly and a promise to continue to see each other in the morning to fuck again. The following day was full of more pleasure and many, many orgasms.

Tripp came home, and you were terrified that he would notice a change or something off, but he didn’t. Everything seemed the same as it was before he left.

Joel and you still met twice a week inside the shop. Some of the visits ended with you bent over the table in the back or riding him in the chair.

One of the risky quickies you had was on a movie night in town. Everyone had gone ahead, and Joel said he would stay home, but you told everyone that you had forgotten something at home. You met at a secret secluded spot in town. Joel fucked you hard as he covered your mouth with his large hand, fully clothed.

The secret sex affair had never felt like it played the line of emotional attachment until one evening.

You had been informed of an old craft store the groups had found savaging for supplies. Tripp had invited you to come with him and a group to search for supplies for the town, such as fabrics, crafts, and other supplies you might need. The group would burn the small town down so no one would be attracted to it after the fact since nothing would be there. (They would make sure it didn’t start a wildfire but burn buildings to prevent people from coming closer to Jackson.)

The group of ten people, along with a wagon, was plenty for the mission to salvage the small town. The group included Tripp, Joel, Tommy, Maria, and two other friends of yours. After spending most of the day, it was time to head out after savaging through dusty shelves of picked-over craft supplies. You did find a lot of valuable items that will be helpful for the shop.

You loaded your last box of supplies into the wagon as the guys started to burn other buildings around. You look through your pile as you get excited over your finds. Then you noticed you forgot something inside. You look over to tell Tripp, but he is somewhere else. You should have enough time to grab the last box before they set fire to the building.

You quickly run inside and search for the box you had put together. You could hear some commotion outside the building. Looking around, you finally found the box and ran over to it. Before reaching the box, you slipped over a line of oil the guys had put for the fire. You tried to stand up quickly but couldn’t because of the pain in your ankle. You curse yourself as you try to get up.

Outside the building, the guys had started to light the gasoline line they had already laid down. Tripp was the one to light it. Everyone backed away to their horses and wagon, chatting amongst themselves.

“Um, I’m only seeing five out of six of us,” Tommy says as he runs his hand through his hair, looking around for you.

By this time, you could see the flames inside the building. The flame ran along the line of oil that you were sitting in, which was all over you. You let out a scream of help to the others outside.

Joel was the first to hear you after becoming aware you were missing from the group. Tripp finally realized what was happening, but Joel was already soaking his handkerchief in water and covering his airways to run inside after you. His whole body was in fear of how he would find you. Your screams of terror made him move further into the blazing building. He found you in one of the further rooms holding your ankle and a box of supplies.

“Joel,” you gasped as you tried not to inhale more smoke than you already had. His large arms picked you up quickly and carried you to safety. At that time, you had knocked unconscious from all the smoke inhaling.

Tripp ran to Joel as he carried you outside of the building. “What have I done?! I didn’t know she was inside. Thank you, Joel,” the man rambled as he tried to help Joel to the wagon.

Joel had helped the others get you into the wagon, but his body hit the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Maria jumped into the wagon to help assist you while Tommy helped his brother strip off his clothes and cool him down.

“Is she okay?” Joel let out a shaky breath as he drank some water Tommy had given him. Tommy looked at the level of concern on his brother's face. There was something different in the way he asked and looked at you at this moment that made him raise questions that he would never bring up. The others besides Tripp noticed the same level of concern for you from Joel but didn’t say anything because he had just saved your life.

After gaining consciousness, you slowly recover from the smoke inhalation and start to become more of yourself over the next few days. You had not seen Joel since you were bedridden the last few days. Others had come to visit you with surprises, or their presence made you feel better.

You felt good enough to return to your shop about a week later. The excitement of organizing your new supplies and Tripp's sweet support have driven you to recovery. You kissed Tripp goodbye and headed for the day as he attended a council meeting.

After an hour, you finally found a great organizational system for your new finds. The sound of the shop bell brought you out of your headspace, and you prayed it was one person. You walked around the counter and saw a small bouquet with a small note waiting for you.

‘Hope you are well. - J’ was the only message scribbled on the piece of paper. Your head feels light-headed as your feelings start to make you emotional. He never came to check on you or had a second for you to thank him for saving your life.

You had gone out of your way three days later to visit Joel’s home. You come with a small present of a new flannel shirt with a custom name embroidered into the sleeve. No one had answered the door when he should have been home. Joel sat in his upstairs window, watching you as you knocked on his door. He felt more emotional than he should have watched you leave the present on his doorstep and wiped the tears from your eyes before you turned towards the street. Both of your hearts ached more than they should have from your “non-emotional” affair.

You had received a visit from Joel in the shop or any secretive message from him again after the flowers. The only contact with the broad, mysterious man was from group settings with friends. Your relationship with Tripp had improved from the relationship to the bedroom.

It was the day of your wedding. All the work you both had put into it had finally paid off. You felt off the whole day as your friends surrounded you with much love. You put on your wedding dress as you tried not to smirk at the dirty thought of Joel fucking you in it after you had finished your alterations on it, along with his creative ideas for it.

The day you had dreamed of all your life was a haze, and it did not feel the way it was supposed to. You could barely focus on the day as you tried to find that one person throughout it.

As you make your way down the aisle, you can't help but look around at your friends and community members with a big, fake smile. You find the beautiful brown eyes on Joel as you slow your walk down to meet Tripp. You couldn't help but match the pained look on Joel’s face as you saw each other. You quickly recovered when you met Tripp at the altar.

The officiant was Tommy, as he was one of Tripp’s closest friends and mentors. He talked highly of you and read off the typical wedding speech of love and endearment of marriage.

“If anyone objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Tommy said as he looked out into the crowd, looking for his brother's eyes, which he could not find in the audience. You found yourself doing the same as Tommy. You felt your heart fall into your stomach from the question, but you thought it broke as you saw no sign of the person you wanted to find and hear speak up.

The wedding was a great success, and much love was spread amongst the community. You had only dreamed of it happening in this messed-up world. The wedding night ended up at the Tipsy Bison, where you hung on your husband's arm and drank your secret emotions in whiskey and anything you could get your hands on. Maria and some of the ladies in your bridal party helped you into the restroom as you felt queasy.

Joel had eased his way into the bar as he watched you hang on your husband’s arm. He had left the wedding early, drinking his sorrows away all day. He hadn’t been the man he thought he could be, but he showed up to the wedding and swept you away from your husband. His cowardly, drunken self had shown up in the bar more like stumbled into it.

It took him a while to reach your newlywed husband as he saw you go to the restroom. “Congratulations, Tripp! You got yourself a lovely wife and life. One man can only be so lucky,” Joel drunkenly says to Tripp as he wraps his arm around him. Trpp looks around at the guys around them.

Tripp nervously chuckles as he looks back at Joel, “thanks, Joel. I know I am the luckiest man in the world today,” he says as he lifts his beer to him.

They cheer their glass of whiskey and make small talk amongst themselves. Joel orders every one of them a round of shots. He rewraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in to whisper in his ear. “When was the last time you fucked her?” Joel whispers into Tripp’s ear.

Tripp whips his head around to him and throws him off his shoulder, “Excuse me, Joel?” He sternly asks him as he looks more shocked than ever. At this time, the girls had helped you out of the bathroom and nursed you with a glass of water as you walked back into the bar. You look up from your glass to see the scene of your husband and lover.

Joel chuckles and shrugs his shoulder, “Boy, I said, when was the last time you fucked her?” he says calmly with a wicked smirk on his face. “And I don’t mean the pathetic.

Fuck that she told me that you gave her. I mean, like a proper fucking her where she can’t remember any dick beside mine.” The smirk on his face as the words come out his face, and everyone’s faces drop in shock from them. Tripp’s fist on Joel’s face is the first sound anyone hears besides gasps. Joel doesn’t fight back as Tripp punishes his beautiful face. Tommy and some of the other patrol group members are the ones who break them up. You didn’t even notice that you had fallen in shock when you met Joel’s eyes, and Tommy pulled him outside.

Before Tripp could find you, you ran for the only place you thought you could be safe: the sewing shop. The tears, dirt, and memories of your affair ruin your precious wedding dress as you run through all the dirt to your safe space. You hysterically cry yourself to sleep as you know your secret has been told to the world. They were going to shun you and kick you out into the cruel world again, you feared.

By the time you awoke in the morning, it seemed the whole town had forgotten the terrible incident at the Tipsy Bison. You walked into your shared home with Tripp quietly to find him passed out on the couch, holding an empty whiskey bottle. The guilt and pain made you want to run away from these problems.

You eventually wake your groom up and tell him everything that happened with Joel. You apologize and promise to work on your relationship. It felt like he had forgiven you too quickly. There were boundaries and much more to discuss, but you planned to work out your relationship with your sweet husband.

After spending a few days off from the shop on your “honeymoon,” you finally returned to your shop to help the community with all its clothing issues, and Tripp went back to his routine. Joel had reportedly left on a solo patrol after the wedding after a rough discussion with Ellie that night.

You casually looked out the window from the shop every time you heard the large gates of Jackson open, hoping to see those locks of brown hair. To just talk to the man that you swore never to love, but that was a lie you always told yourself.

Joel had never returned. Ellie eventually went after him and returned with the news that made you drop to your knees from the worst news ever. He was gone. Forever. Your lover, Joel Miller, had left this world without saying goodbye.

Thank you for reading!

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