#replaced by a realization that there's nothing there and certainly no room for you

[malavera]

Peaches: “Would you be so kind in lending a hand?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: the friendly old man neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day

warning: the setting of this one-shot is AU no correlation to Wolverine & Deadpool, SMUT! MDNI, fingering, female oral receiving, age gap (legal), no use of Y/N, the use of pet name peach, sir kink, squirting

wc: 3.5k (well it's a full shot not a drabble ehe)

creds: i forgot where the divider is from, creds to the creator!

dedicating this one to my favorite authors!

@velvrei @wolverinesleftclaw @stark-ironman @lovelybucky1 @cyber333angel @dollverine @joelsgoldrush

peaches masterlist

The day had finally come when you decided enough was enough. The laundry had been sitting there for three days, staring at you from the corner of your room like a silent accusation. Today was the day you would conquer it. Armed with your resolve, you hauled the overflowing basket to the laundry room. But as fate would have it, the universe had other plans.

The washing machine, that steadfast appliance you’d trusted for years, chose this very moment to betray you. The once familiar hum was replaced by a groan, a sputter, and then—nothing. You stared at it, disbelief turning to frustration as you realized the mountain of clothes in your arms was going nowhere. Your favorite pair of undies, buried somewhere in the pile, would have to wait.

You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the machine, its cool surface doing little to soothe your annoyance. Arms crossed, you dialed your father’s number, hoping for some semblance of a solution.

“Dad, the washing machine broke,” you said, half hoping he’d have a quick fix, half dreading his response.

There was a pause before he spoke, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Ask Logan for help, he’s pretty handy with stuff. I won’t be back until 8 PM tonight, buttercup.”

You nearly dropped the phone. Logan. Of course, it had to be him. The very thought of knocking on his door, asking him for help, sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through you. Why did it have to be him?

Logan Howlett—the man who occupied your thoughts far too often, the man who was the face of your wildest dreams. Just the mention of his name made your heart race. And now, you were supposed to ask him for help? The universe certainly had a twisted sense of humor.

You ended the call, staring at the washing machine like it was some cruel joke. The burnt toast theory, they called it. Sometimes, when things went wrong, it was the universe’s way of steering you toward something better. But as you stood there, contemplating the inevitable encounter with Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguise—or a test you weren’t sure you could pass.

Logan Howlett had been a fixture in your mind for five long months, ever since he moved into the neighborhood. It wasn’t just his rugged good looks or the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence; it was the way he seemed to have slipped so seamlessly into your life. Your dad, always quick to befriend a fellow drinker, had taken to him immediately. They were practically inseparable, sharing beers on the front porch, watching games in the living room, and even lingering over meals in the dining room.

And there you were, sneaking glances every time Logan was around, feeling that unmistakable flutter in your chest whenever he caught your eye.

Today, though, was different. Somehow, you found yourself standing on his porch, heart pounding as your fist hovered in mid-air. What were you thinking? Asking Logan for help—it felt too forward, too direct. But here you were, ignoring every ounce of self-doubt, raising your hand to knock on his door.

You barely had time to second-guess yourself before the door swung open. And there he was, the embodiment of everything that had been haunting your thoughts for months: tall, effortlessly sexy, his dark hair tousled just right. He was wearing a white shirt that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, tucked into denim jeans that fit him perfectly. You couldn’t help but notice how the summer sun cast a warm glow on his skin, making the moment feel almost surreal.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice broke through your reverie, casual yet deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. He squinted against the sunlight, his expression shifting into one of familiarity. “I was about to come over. Your dad called and asked me to check on something.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady as your mind raced. “Yeah, the washing machine broke. Dad said you could help… Would you be so kind in lending a hand?”

You could hear your own voice, slightly strained as you tried to strike the perfect balance. Not too high-pitched, not too low. Not too eager, not too aloof. But before you could overthink it any further, Logan flashed you a small smile, one that made your heart do a little flip.

“Yeah, sure, Peach.”

And there it was—that damn nickname that never failed to turn your insides into mush. It started innocently enough, the day your dad brought home a bag full of peaches and peach-flavored drinks. Logan had been there, chuckling at the sight, and ever since, he’d called you “Peach” with that easy, teasing tone. Now, every time he said it, you couldn’t help but melt a little, even if you tried to play it cool.

As you turned to lead him to your house through the backyard, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the universe’s way of pushing you closer to the man who had taken up residence in your thoughts.

“It made a really loud noise and it was shaking really bad, the sound was a bit scary,” you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. “And also, can you check if my clothes are alright? Did it tear them off or something?”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, a low hum of consideration escaping him as he surveyed the situation. “Where did your dad put his tools?” he asked, his gaze already scanning the room.

“Oh, it’s right there,” you said, pointing towards the shelf against the wall. Determined to be helpful, you stood on your tippy toes, stretching to reach the toolbox. But before you could grasp it, Logan moved past you with ease, his hand already closing around the handle.

“Careful, Peach. It’s pretty heavy,” he murmured from behind you, his voice close enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. His presence loomed over you as he reached up effortlessly, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warm summer air.

You stepped back, feeling a mix of flustered and grateful as he handled the heavy toolbox with ease, making you feel small and protected all at once.

“O-okay.” The stutter slipped out before you could stop it. Seriously? Get a grip, you scolded yourself internally. Trying to regain some composure, you quickly added, “I’m just—gonna… fix you something to drink.” You gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen, hoping to retreat before you embarrassed yourself further.

Logan nodded absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the washing machine that seemed to be on its last legs. He didn’t even glance your way, which was both a relief and a disappointment. You took a nervous step back, then another, finally turning and heading to the kitchen, hoping a moment away would help you steady your nerves.

Leaving his presence created an unfamiliar ache in your chest, a tug of reluctance you hadn’t anticipated. It was as if some part of you didn’t want to leave his side, didn’t want to be apart from the quiet strength that Logan exuded. The thought of retreating to the kitchen, of putting physical distance between you and him, felt wrong, almost unnatural.

You wanted to stay. You wanted to watch him work on the broken machine, to see those skilled hands in action, to listen to the steady, assured way he moved and spoke. But at the same time, you knew you couldn’t trust yourself around him. Not when your heart raced at every little interaction, not when just being near him made you feel so unsteady.

You didn’t have the confidence to be casual, to act like you weren’t hanging on his every word and gesture. And you certainly didn’t have the strength to face the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you every time you were close to him. So instead, you sought refuge in the kitchen, hoping the distance would help calm the storm inside you, even as it left you aching for more.

Twisting the faucet, you watched as the water streamed out, the steady flow almost hypnotic in its simplicity. The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the gentle rush of water hitting the sink. You leaned forward, letting the coolness soothe your heated skin, and splashed your face with the cold water, hoping it would bring some clarity to your muddled thoughts.

For a moment, the shock of the cold jolted you back to reality, away from the overwhelming thoughts of Logan that had been swirling in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the droplets drip down your face, trying to steady your breathing and collect yourself. It was just a broken washing machine, just a neighbor doing a favor.

You swung open the fridge, your hand instinctively reaching for your favorite peach-flavored soda. The cool metal of the can felt reassuring against your palm as you pulled it from its place. With a satisfying hiss, you cracked it open, the sweet, fruity scent immediately filling the air.

Reaching for a tall glass, you filled it with ice, the cubes clinking softly as they settled. Then, you poured the bubbly soda over them, watching as the fizzy drink cascaded down, swirling and dancing around the ice. After inserting a straw into the glass, you carefully picked it up, the cool condensation forming on the outside of the glass. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way back to where Logan was.

"Here you go," you announced, placing the glass on the nearby table. Logan turned his attention from the washing machine to you, his eyes briefly darting to the drink you’d set down. A smile curved on his lips, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Peach.”

“Ehe…” You offered a nervous smile in return, your cheeks heating up at the casual endearment. Trying to steady your fluttering nerves, you grabbed the straw and shoved it into your mouth with a little more force than intended. It was your way of silencing the awkwardness bubbling inside you, a desperate attempt to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping.

“So, your dad’s going on a date later today, huh?” Logan’s voice was light, but he noticed the nervousness you were trying to mask. His intention was to ease the tension with casual conversation.

“Y-yeah, he’s working now, but that’s what I’ve heard,” you replied, nervously fiddling with the straw. You decided to sit on the edge of the table where Logan’s drink was, adjusting it carefully to avoid spills.

Logan glanced at you, then back at the washing machine, his smirk widening. “You okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you responded, a bit defensively.

Logan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve never been too thrilled about him dating. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of Logan’s question pressing on you. Taking a deep breath, you decided to let your guard down. “Well, it’s just… I’ve always felt like I have to compete for his attention. It’s silly, I know, but it’s hard when you’re used to being the center of someone’s world.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he gave you an understanding nod. The moment of connection hung between you as Logan turned his attention back to the washing machine. He worked with focused precision, his hands moving deftly as he made the final adjustments. The clinks and whirs of the machine were soon replaced by a steady, rhythmic hum.

“There we go,” Logan said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The washing machine was back in action, its gentle whirl now a reassuring sound.

You let out a relieved sigh, watching the machine function smoothly. “Thank you so much, Mister Howlett. I really appreciate it.” you said, your gratitude sincere as you adjusted from your sitting position to stand up. You set down your now-empty glass on the table, the slight clink of the glass breaking the brief silence.

Hearing you address him as "Mister Howlett" sparked something within Logan—an unfamiliar, yet undeniable feeling. It was a sentiment he had been trying to avoid, one that stirred within him despite his best efforts to keep his distance. The formal address seemed to intensify the feelings he had been wrestling with, making them more pronounced.

You're not the only one who has a crush, he does too.

From the moment Logan had closed the trunk of his truck while moving into the neighborhood, you had been on his mind. He remembered the day vividly—watching you step out of your car in a beautiful white sundress that hugged your upper body and flowed gracefully. The way the dress accentuated your figure, combined with the ease of your movements, had captured his attention in a way he hadn’t anticipated. As you came knocking on his door with your dad beside you to welcome him into the neighborhood, those peach-flavored pie you brought had been lingering in his mind ever since. He wondered if you smell as good as that pie where he devoured in one full bite that night. And here you are, wearing the same white sundress that's gotten him obsessed with.

As Logan took a step forward, you instinctively stepped back, forgetting about the table behind you. Your hips brushed against it gently, causing a small jolt. Logan had intended to reach for the glass of your beverage, but his proximity brought him uncomfortably close.

With a casual yet deliberate movement, Logan took the glass from behind you, his body nearly brushing against yours. He lifted the glass in front of you, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. “Thanks, Peach,” he said, his voice low and warm.

Without breaking eye contact, he chugged down the drink, his gaze locked onto yours. The act was both confident and intimate, making the moment feel charged with unspoken tension. The shared space between you seemed to crackle with a newfound energy as you both stood there, the air thick with the lingering effects of the brief but intense connection.

You cleared your throat, feeling a flush of heat spread across your cheeks as you managed to wiggle your way out from the proximity of Logan. You made your way toward the washing machine, watching it work through the glass as your laundry tumbled inside.

“Tell me, Peach,” Logan’s voice came from behind, smooth and deliberate. “Is your taste as good as this peach soda?”

Your breath hitched, and your mind raced. Am I hearing this right? Is this a dream? You thought, trying to process his words. Despite the possibility of it being a dream, you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Instead, you leaned against the washing machine, the rhythmic vibrations grounding you.

“Um—W-what do you mean, s-sir?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You could feel Logan’s presence closing in behind you, the air growing warmer and thicker as he approached. The vibrations from the washing machine seemed to pulse more intensely against your torso, amplifying the sensation of his proximity. Each step he took made your heartbeat quicken, your senses acutely aware of the space between you shrinking.

Logan’s shadow fell over you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath, though not yet touching your skin, was close enough that you could sense its warmth. 

“You wanna know what ‘m thinking, Peach?” He mumbles behind your ear. You wished he didn’t hear your shuddered breath and the swallowed saliva down your throat from the way he makes you nervous.

“I don’t think so, Mister Howlett.” you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Naw, why? Afraid you might like it?” You could feel the smirk slowly forming in his face.

“I-”

“I’m thinking of bending you against this washing machine, lift up your very short sundress and get on my knees. Slowly taking my time smelling that scent… of arousal from your pussy, where I know, she’s dying to be touched, to be fingered, to be fucked, by me.” You gasp once you feel the bulge from his rough jeans, teasingly grinding against your ass earning a chuckle from him as he continues,

“Oh yes I know, Peach. I know how much you want to feel this cock inside you. Should’ve known better to close your blinds at night when your delicate… fingers desperately trying to reach that high, because I’m always watching you, Peach. Even though you’re such a pain in the ass with that, Peach flavored pie, and that fucking beautiful smile. I wanna turn those smiles into tears… Tears of pleasure from me, fucking this cunt.” You gasped loudly as Logan roughly thrust his bulge against your ass, hitting you against the washing machine.

“L-Logan,” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Call me, Sir,” Logan’s tone was laced with full authority, each word deliberate and commanding. You choked back a swallow before you corrected yourself.

"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." You stood on your ground.

"Yeah? Let me remind you how it feels then, this time, with me." Logan grunted in your ears before you felt a rush of cold air blowing against your damped panties resulted from Logan lifting your skirt up. You whimpered once you feel his fingers grazing against your soaking wet cunt, earning a mocking tut from Logan.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Your cunt says otherwise, Peach." He rubs you through the panties before ripping them off of you, the sound piercing through the room.

Logan crouched on his knees, proving his promise to you the one where he'd like to take his time smelling you from down your legs up to your thighs, dragging his warm tongue on your delicate skin upwards earning a moan from you. Logan hummed once he connected his lips to your glistening pussy lips, his tongue swirling and lapping your gushing juices.

You feel like god had just granted you your wishes into doing this sinful things. You finally can experience the feeling of his tongue against your throbbing cunt that keeps on gushing. Logan moaned, while he laps your juices up like a dog. "You taste just as I imagined, peach-flavored cunt." He murmured against your pussy.

A rosy hue crept across your cheeks hearing his statement. "Come on, Peach. Gimme more." Logan breathed out, his two hands that were gripping your thighs pushed and lifted you upward attempting you to bend over more over the top of the washing machine. Spreading your legs wide, you moaned out loud once you feel his tongue crazily lap your pussy like a dog in thirst.

"S-sir.." You squeaked, feeling yourself close.

"Hmm, yeah, give it to me, Peach." Logan grunted, burying his face even more.

"Ngh, I'm gonna-" Before you could finish that sentence, you froze as you heard your dad's voice calls out to you.

"Buttercup! I'm home, have you managed with the laundry yet?" He hollers from the other room. You gasped while Logan didn't even budge, he kept resuming his action.

"Y-yes, Dad! Everything's good now!" You holler back, holding yourself back from moaning.

"Do you need any help, darling?" You heard the sound of footstep, your eyes widened and hurriedly answer, "No- No, Dad! Everything's good, I'll be coming in a second." Logan smirked.

"Okay darling, I'm gonna get some rest." Your dad holler back as his footsteps fading away. You sighed in relief before you gasped when you feel Logan entering two fingers inside your cunt.

"What a naughty little girl, she needs to make herself cum before she gets back to being the dotting daughter huh?" You whimper to his words.

"Please, sir. Don't stop, it feels so good.."

"Yeah? Wait till you feel my cock." Logan vowed. He curled his fingers inside you, effortlessly flicking your g-spot before he stood back up on his feet, leaning against your back. He gently guide you to stand on your feet even though it's impossible for you as you're still in daze from his fingers still working their magic.

Logan whispered all kinds of filthy things in your head to get you to reach your high. "Is this just like what you imagined, peach?" — "Feels so good yeah?" — "Yes it does. Are you gonna cum for me?" — "Yeah come on, almost there, I know," — "Make a mess on my fingers, baby."

As you choked a loud moan, Logan's other hand went to silenced you while you came gushing down on his fingers. Your whole body shook while Logan holds you in place as you're coming down your high.

"There you go, good girl." You panted once you've gained your strength to stand on your own, you turned around and to find him smirking, a notable wet droplet covered some parts of his jeans as you now just learned, that you squirted on him a little.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, his gaze never leaving yours as he tasted what's remained of you on his fingers.

"Hmm, taste just like a peach."

let me know if you want me to start the journey for Logan & Peach 😉

[sluttywonwoo]

collision || h.js

pairing: virgin!fratboy!han jisung x best friend!reader

summary: jisung's fraternity brothers decide to pool their money and surprise him with a stripper for his birthday! nice gesture and all, but that stripper just so happens to be his best friend...

warnings: swearing, a little bit of mention of stigma towards sex workers at the end, smut (18+ ; minors dni)

additional warnings: lap dancing, dry humping

word count: 3k

Jisung’s blood ran cold as he stared at you from the opposite side of the room. A similar look of shock graced your features for a moment but it was quickly replaced by a smile, a fake one if Jisung had ever seen one. 

To be fair he had imagined this exact scenario- you in lingerie, standing in the middle of his living room- hundreds of times. But in those fantasies, the room wasn’t also full of a dozen or so of his friends.

When Jisung’s fraternity brothers told him they had a “surprise” for his birthday he knew it couldn’t be anything good but he certainly hadn’t been expecting his best friend to be the hired... entertainment for the party he hadn’t even wanted. 

“Should we leave them alone?” Minho, one of the older boys, teases. 

“We don’t get to watch?” Jeongin whines. 

“Nah, Hannie’s too shy for that.”

“That, and we only bought a private dance because it was the cheapest option,” Chris mutters under his breath, hopefully not loud enough for you to hear. 

“Let’s go into the other room, then,” Hyunjin says, finally drawing all of the attention away from you. “The others are waiting for us and we haven’t finished mixing all the drinks yet. The birthday boy can join us later.”

There’s some grumbling as the boys shuffle out of the room but they do make their exit, leaving you alone with Jisung. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “Happy birthday?” you offer with an awkward chuckle. 

“This is why you couldn’t come tonight?” 

“I was going to join later!” you correct him. “But yes, this is why I was going to be late.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you I had to work! I didn’t know it was you!”

“They didn’t... give you my name or anything?” Jisung realizes as he’s speaking that he doesn’t really know how your client intake works. Is there a form they fill out? Or do they just Venmo you and give you an address? Surely not, right? That would be dangerous. There had to be more to it than that. 

“They called you ‘Late Bloomer’,” you mutter, staring at the floor. “Said I’d know you when I saw you.”

Jisung’s cheeks burned and he scoffs. “Ironic. Yeah, that’s what the guys call me because they know, um, about...”

“You don’t have to say it!” you blurt. “I already know. That’s a really mean nickname.”

“All the pledges get nicknames like that,” he sighs. “Sometimes they don’t wear off after initiation.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You had taken a couple of steps closer to where he was sitting while you talked but you were still several feet apart. 

“Uh, well did you still want me to-”

“No!” Jisung shouts, cringing when he hears himself. “No, oh my god. You don’t have to do that.”

“I mean, it’s what I’m getting paid to do,” you point out. “Do you want your brothers’ money to go to waste?”

“I don’t give a fuck about their money.”

“So you don’t want me to?”

He’s sweating now. He feels it on his brow. “No, no. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

And I don’t want to cum my pants the minute you sit on my lap. 

You laugh. “Nothing can be more uncomfortable than what just happened in front of your, uh, friends.”

You had a point. “You don’t think it’ll make things... weird?” Jisung asks. 

You shrug. “Things are already weird, aren’t they? But if you don’t want me to, I'll go get dressed and we can join the rest of them at the party.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to!” Jisung clarifies. “I mean, I’ve always been curious about... how your sessions go, like what happens and stuff, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to or that I want you to if that makes sense. Like I don’t want you to think I’m a creep-”

“Jisung.”

“Huh?”

“Instead of a real dance, why don’t I just demonstrate for you? Show you what I do, like you said?”

That didn’t sound too dangerous. 

“O-ok. You don’t have to do it on me, though. You can just, like, use a chair?”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Sure.”

There are lots of chairs to choose from but you pick the closest and drag it in front of where Jisung is sitting. You spin it so that the back is facing him and then run to get something from the bag that you’d dropped by the door when you came in. 

Jisung tries not to look at your ass as you bend down and rifle through the tote, training his eyes on the ceiling instead. He’d already been struggling not to get hard this whole time and it was about to get a whole lot harder, metaphorically and literally. 

You come back with a speaker and set it up on the floor under the chair. 

“Usually I put on some music,” you explain. “I’ll sit on the guy’s lap and ask him what he likes to listen to.” You sit sideways on the chair and cross your legs, pretending like there’s a man underneath you. “Whatever he says doesn’t matter to me, though. I just pick whatever I want to dance to and pretend his answer influenced my decision so he feels like he gets to have a say in the matter. Men like to feel special like that.”

Jisung nods along. You look up to check that he’s following before moving on. 

“Then I’ll stand back up, like this, and start dancing. Most girls dance in front of them first, to make them want it more. I used to get really self-conscious about that part because it feels silly to me but it really pays off in the end.”

Jisung gulps and nods again. He watches you sink to your knees and arch backward, spreading your thighs wider as your back touches the floor. He had no idea you were so flexible, no idea you could move like that, though he supposes he should have assumed considering you literally do this for a living. 

“And then right before I get back on his lap I’ll take off my top. Usually, it’s like a bra or something but sometimes I’m wearing a bodysuit and I’ll just pull it down.”

He doesn’t expect you to actually do it but you do. You reach behind yourself and pull on the ribbon holding the corset you were wearing together until it unravels and you can take it off. 

Jisung immediately averts his eyes, going as far as shielding his vision with a hand.

“Oh my god!” 

He hears you laughing. “They’re just boobs.”

Yeah, your boobs. 

“I thought you wanted me to show you how I usually do it,” you chide. 

Jisung hesitantly turns his head to face you again. He stares you right in the eyes, pointedly ignoring everything below your neck. “I didn’t think you would actually, um, strip.”

Your teasing smile falters. “Do you want me to put it back on? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! You don’t have to. I’m not uncomfortable.” You look like you don’t believe him so he adds, “I just wanted to be respectful and stuff, you know?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re sweet. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen me topless before. We’ve known each other for so long.”

Jisung is in so much pain. “Haha, yeah me too.”

You approach the chair and straddle it like you would if someone was actually sitting there. Since there isn’t, you fold your arms on the back of it and rest your chin on your wrists. 

“I always lay some ground rules before I start, even if they’re a regular.”

“Ground rules?” Jisung asks. 

You nod. “They’re not allowed to touch me whatsoever. I’ll touch them unless they request otherwise, but only on the face and the shoulders, sometimes the chest. I’m not going to grope them or anything like that, even though I am grinding on them.” You demonstrate with the air, pretending to cup someone’s face and bring it closer to yours before pushing them away. “The whole thing is essentially just teasing someone for however long they booked me for.”

“Are there any other rules?” Jisung asks, trying to seem engaged and eager to learn more about your profession instead of focusing on how you’re riding that chair. 

“Yeah, one of my biggest rules is that the client has to stay fully clothed the whole time. There are exceptions like if they’re wearing a tie, I might loosen it or undo it. I’ve worn their ties myself once or twice.”

“Has anyone ever, um,” he pauses. 

You cock your head to the side in intrigue. “Has anyone ever what?”

“Has anyone ever like, cum? While you’re doing that?”

“It’s happened before. But they usually try not to because they’d have to pay me more. It’s in my contract. It’s also really embarrassing for them and it’s unsanitary- I won’t get into the details but it’s not very common.”

It definitely would have happened to Jisung if he had gone through with it. Honestly, it would probably happen if anyone were to give him a lap dance, but if it was you? He wouldn’t stand a chance. 

“But it’s normal for guys to get, like, hard, right?”

“Oh yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed. Anyone would get turned on if someone was grinding on them. Sometimes it happens before I’m even on their lap, like you’re hard right now and I haven’t even touched you.”

“Wha-” Jisung’s neck snaps as he looks to confirm what he already knows to be true. He rushes to cover the bulge in his pants with his hands even though it’s way too late for that. “Fuck, I didn’t- it doesn’t-”

You brush it off. “Don’t worry, Ji. It’s a perfectly normal reaction to seeing something arousing. It means I’m good at my job.”

“No, but I’m your best friend! God, you must feel so objectified and weird...”

“Jisung, I promise I don’t feel weird or objectified. Is this too weird for you? Do you want to stop?”

“I- uh, I don’t know,” he admits. Obviously he likes what he sees, his hard dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans is proof enough of that. But he’s also never felt so embarrassed in his life. It feels so... wrong of him to be taking advantage of the situation like this. He should have taken up your offer to go join the rest of his brothers at the party because now he’s fucked. He’s a weak, weak man.  “Are you sure you’re okay with... it?” 

“Of course,” you assure him. “That’s the point of this birthday present anyway.”

Maybe, but it wasn’t supposed to be a present from you. Jisung is so overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions that he can’t even focus on what you’re doing anymore. He zones out, willing his erection to go down until he remembers that he’s supposed to be paying attention. He’s supposed to be learning. 

“So I go back and forth between grinding on the guy and dancing in front of him so it doesn’t get too intimate, and then towards the end I usually- fuck, it’s kind of hard to do when there isn’t someone actually here.” He watches you stand up and approach him. “Do you mind if I just....” you trail off expectantly. 

Are you asking what Jisung thinks you’re asking? Is whatever it is you’re trying to show him so important that you need to torture him further?

“If you just what?” 

“If I sit on your lap for this part? It’ll be quick, I swear.”

“Go ahead,” Jisung says before he can argue with himself. 

He had already dug his grave, he might as well bury himself too. 

You take a deep breath before placing a hand on each of his shoulders for balance and lowering yourself onto his lap. His legs are spread a bit so they’re kind of awkward to straddle but you’re used to it so it’s easy to adjust. 

“Wow, you are hard,” you breathe out, laughing a little. 

Jisung wants to die. He takes a deep breath of his own and steels himself before asking, “what was it that you wanted to show me?”

Your eyes light up like you had forgotten why you were sitting on him in the first place. “Oh, right. I put the music on a timer to fade out at the end of the session so when that happens I’ll grab the guy’s face like this,” you take Jisung by the cheeks and squeeze so that he’s forced to open his mouth. 

He wonders briefly if you’re about to spit in his mouth but to his disappointment you make him bite down on a piece of paper instead. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and reaches up to pluck whatever it is from between his lips.

“What is this?”

“My business card!” you exclaim. “Smart right? I wanted to do something memorable and so far it’s gotten over fifty percent of my clients to become repeat customers.”

Jisung snorts. “Yeah, it’s definitely that and not the fact that you’re hot and have your tits out.”

“It’s all part of the sell,” you joke.

“Well, I can see why you’re working all the time,” Jisung quips. “You’re very good at what you do.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m just sorry I ruined your birthday present,” you sigh. 

Jisung frowns. “What do you mean? You didn’t ruin it.”

“Yeah, I did! If your friends had hired someone else you would have gotten a real lap dance, not... an instructional.”

“I didn’t even know that’s what I was supposed to be getting! I didn’t know they had hired anyone!”

“Still, it could have been fun.”

“No, this was fun. I’m glad it was you.”

The worry line between your eyebrows softens and you smile fondly at him, making Jisung’s stomach do a somersault. Out of everything that had happened tonight, that was what affected him the most. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes but suddenly your expression changes. Your gaze shifts from relaxed to focused as you sit up and lean in, closer and closer until your nose is pressed to his. Jisung doesn’t want to speak. He doesn’t want to break the spell. His fists clench and unclench repeatedly at his sides. He’s desperate to touch you, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him, but he won’t break your rule unless you give him permission. 

You break it for him, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips.

“Is this okay?” you whisper. 

He nods, his forehead knocking against yours. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.”

You swallow hard, eyes searching his for something he isn’t sure he has. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

Jisung has fantasized about this moment countless times and not a single one compares to it. Your lips are soft and warm and you taste like that chapstick you always keep in your pocket. Jisung recognizes it immediately because he’s borrowed it more than a few times. 

You moan and run a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. It’s gotten a lot longer recently but you seem to like it. In fact, part of the reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you keep complimenting the way he’s been styling it. He wonders if you like how it feels between your fingers. 

To his own surprise, Jisung is the first to use tongue. He feels your lips part and uses the opportunity to slide his tongue between them like you had with your business card. You moan again and this time you grind down on his lap for real. 

It catches you both off guard. Jisung’s hips follow the movement of yours, chasing your heat even when you lift yourself off of him in a panic. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t be,” he murmurs, trying to hide a smug grin, “it’s a perfectly normal reaction.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I guess I deserved that.”

“Mhm- mph!” You kiss him before he can get another word out, this time shoving your tongue in his mouth. 

Now that you know it’s okay to grind on him, you don’t hold back. You seem so eager. If Jisung didn’t know better he’d think this had been your plan all along. 

“God, baby,” he whimpers, shocked at how shattered his own voice sounds. “This feels so good but if you don’t stop I’m gonna-” he can’t bring himself to say it. “I’m not going to last.”

You slow down and lift your head from the crook of his shoulder. “Do you want to stop?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know how far you’re okay with going but...”

“We can go as far as you want, Ji. You’re the one...” you don’t finish the sentence but Jisung knows what you’re implying. It isn’t hard to guess. It’s why he’d been given that stupid nickname freshman year. 

“You’d... you’d want me in that way?” he asks. He’s almost afraid of the answer because he doesn’t think you feel the same way about him. Even if you are down to fuck, he doesn’t think it’s because you have a big giant crush on him like he does you. Maybe you’re just horny or maybe you’d be doing it as a favor.

“Of course.” It’s not an answer that quells the burning questions he’s been holding onto since he met you but it does enough to temper the flames a bit. You want him. It’s enough. “But... you don’t care that your first time would be with a stripper?” 

He knows that’s not what you mean. He knows you’re worried that he feels like it’s inorganic. That it’s part of the job you had been hired to do. But he knows the truth. That isn’t what it is at all. 

He shakes his head. “My first time would be with my best friend. There’s no one else I’d rather it be with.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[everythingbridgertonbxm]

Champagne & Shenanigans

Summary - You and Benedict become not so sober at a ball.

Notes - 760 words. She’s a short bean, but we love her anyhow. Fluff, my grammar, neck kisses?, drinking/being drunk. *Don’t repost or translate this without my permission.*

🥂🎨

You couldn’t remember how you ended up drunk, but you did. One moment you were entering the ball, the next you felt a buzz running through your body. You weren’t drunk enough to do something outrageously embarrassing, but you most certainly didn’t have your manners completely attached. Both fortunately and unfortunately your husband was just as drunk as you were. You had just finished a glass of wine, and replaced that glass with a glass of champagne when you realized you hadn’t scene your husband in a while.         

You approached his mother. “Have you seen, Benedict?”       

Violet Bridgerton shook her head, smiling. “No, my dear. Not recently. I last saw him in discussion with Lord Raemwork, discussing the colors of the wall.”       

You thanked her and made your way through the crowd, making sure to not spill your champagne. You found your husband, observing the painting on the wall. You quickly approached him and found him with a glass of wine in his hand. He was muttering under his breath about the colors working naturally well with the light.       

“Ben, dear?” You said, approaching him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He turned to face you, smiling upon realizing who it was. He pulled your hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it before doing it again and one more time for good measure, making you cover up a giggle. A few heads turned your war.     

“We are at an event, Benedict,” you admonished as best you could but your husband was too busy observing your face to pay much attention.             

He only grinned in your direction, before reaching for the fabric of your dress, playing with the skirt a moment. He let out a happy, thankfully quiet, gasp. “You see how the wall color complements your dress so well, dear?” Benedict noted proudly. He looked between your dress and the wall once more. “Perhaps we should repaint the drawing room. I like this blue.”      

You laughed before reaching for his hand and downing the rest of your champagne in one swig. You pulled him away from the wall, that dumb grin that made your heart pump like wild spreading over his face.        

You passed Lady Cowper and her daughter, Cressida. Neither of them were very pleasant. You leaned towards Lady Cowper’s ear as your walked by. “You have something on your bodice.” You relished, maybe too much, the sudden look of horror on her face as she stepped away to check what you were referring too. It was more exciting to know that she had gotten herself riled up over nothing.       

Making your way through the crowd, as quickly as you could without being impolite, your husband smiling all the way. You pushed the doors open that lead out to the gardens, breathing in the night air. You were barely out the door when Ben pulled you towards him, placing a kiss on your cheek, then your other cheek. You giggled against his touch before pulling him farther into the gardens. You both paused before a statue of an angel above a fountain. “What a pretty face,” you mumbled, looking at it.         

Benedict hummed in agreement, as you turned your gaze back to him, realizing he wasn’t even looking at the statue. “Yes you do,” he said stepping towards you and placing a not so chaste kiss against your lips.          

You laughed in response as your husband’s arms wrapped around your waist, before looking back over at the angel. “Now imagine that statue in the blue you’re in now,” Benedict whispered into your ear before kissing it.       

You let out a small hum in response before stepping forward and dipping your finger into the fountain and then pulling it out again. You weren’t really sure why but you just really wanted to do that. Benedict stepped forward again, an arm going around your waist, the other lifting up to the side of your face, his finger twirling a loose curl in your hair. He leaned forward ever so slightly placing a kiss on the side of your neck before looking back up at the angel.      

“Unfortunate you don’t have paint on you,” you whispered as if whispering the most important secret out there.        

Benedict laughed, placing another kiss to your neck.       

“Time to go home?” You asked him. Benedict has a tendency to become a needy man-child when he was drunk. You didn’t need to see Ben’s face to know he was grinning from ear to ear.              

“Time to go home.” 

[erikatsu]

slutty old man welt 🧐 😋 monch 😋

tw: fem!reader. [n]sfw. age gap (cuz welt's like 80 lmao). mention of masturbation (m). oral (m!receiving). reader refers to welt as "mr. yang". pussy job (sorta). clothed sex. creampie. a bit rushed but oh well. maybe a bit ooc but i tried my best :,)

note: i went from idc for welt to okay im simping for welt LMAO. i love slutty old guys sue me. also lala im so sorry, i got carried away

welt yang often thought himself to be an ethical man. he'd been taught responsibility from a young age, always tried to do the right thing. at least he did until he met you. you'd caught his eye, but he knew better than to get involved with someone so young. however, the more he got to know you, the more he couldn't help himself.

it started out as looking at you for a little too long, knowing that he shouldn't. it's wrong the way his eyes linger as he watches you walk away, and you don't even realize you have his complete and undivided attention with your back turned to him. he knew that it wasn't okay, that he was old enough to be your grandfather even if physically he looked old enough to be your dad.

he didn't know when the lines began to blur– his inappropriate attraction to you turning into something much more than that– and he didn't know if it would ever go away. then again, welt wasn't even sure that he wanted it to. there was no harm in having a crush, especially if he didn't act on it. but, that was just wishful thinking– something he told him himself to rationalize his thoughts and feelings.

unfortunately for him, it got worse as time went on and those thoughts he tried to keep at bay were crossing his mind more often. and eventually, he stopped trying to hold them back all together. he stopped feeling guilty for thinking them too. so long as he wasn't trying to pursue you, he could maintain his integrity. even if at times he had to leave the room due to this. it's not as if it were entirely his fault. after all, welt had the power of his imagination.

every time you paraded around in shorts, he couldn't help but try to picture what you had on underneath them– was it lace, or silk, or perhaps nothing at all? he couldn't help himself when he'd see you had a sucker in your mouth, imagining what it would be like if it was your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock instead. that imagination always led him to where he is right now, sitting at his desk in his room with his head tilted back as he fisted his cock to the thought of you.

it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him. although, you walking in on him just as your name almost fell from his lips was. a gasp fell from your mouth, one that would sound even prettier if he was the reason behind it, and he tried to react quick enough so you couldn't see what he was doing. but, it was too late.

you could see the embarrassment painting his cheeks a bright pink, and instead of turning around like you should have, you stayed. it surprised him when you asked, "mr. yang... do you need some help?"

of all the scenarios he imagined, this certainly was not one of them.

he cleared his throat, about to shake his head. not that he didn't want it, because he did. he did and the thought of it becoming a reality had him throbbing. but what kind of man would he be if he took advantage of your kindness? if he crossed that fine line? words, however, seemed to fail him when he went to speak.

its not as if you were being kind. you had also taken an interest in him– maybe not to the extent he did– and the curiosity and excitement were definitely there. you weren't quite sure what exactly it was about him, but he'd drawn you in without even trying. and the way he hesitated to answer told you what you already knew. he was interested, but he had his morals.

it wasn't until you approached and knelt in front of him that he let them all fly out the window. your hand replaced his, gentle yet firm. he let out a shaky breath, eyes closing before you took him in your mouth. he couldn't help the noise that escaped him, one of the scenarios he imagined finally playing out in real life.

it was ten times better than what went through his head.

he could tell you were enjoying how much of a mess he became so easily– purposely taking your time going down before coming up and teasingly snaking your tongue along his pink tip. you couldn't help but wonder just how long it had been since the last time a woman had touched him like this, seeing how he was already so close to the edge. possibly years, you figured as your free hand came up to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze. perhaps even longer, you concluded upon hearing the groan that escaped him.

you pulled away, leaving your hand where it was, still toying with him as you looked up at him, "mr. yang, just how long has it been since someone properly took care of you?"

too long, he wanted to say. but his mind was overran by all the sensations he was feeling due to you. luckily, you were sharp and your assumptions were correct. you hummed to yourself before standing, his eyes flying open once your touch was gone. imagine his surprise when he saw you sliding out of those cotton shorts you always loved to wear.

he couldn't believe how one person left him utterly speechless, unable to process what was about to happen as you sat in his lap. he watched as your eyes left his, briefly glancing down to his lips. almost as if you were hesitant to make another move. although he couldn't muster the courage to speak, he could certainly pull you closer and press his lips against yours with ease.

his hands flew down to your hips, rocking you against his length. you whimpered against his mouth, already aching for him. you definitely didn't need the warm up– his reactions alone were enough to get you going– yet you allowed yourself to enjoy it for the moment. the two of you crossed a line there was no coming back from, and the possibility of this being the only time had the both of you engrossed in the other. trying to memorize the way you two fit together as if you were puzzle pieces.

the thought of this being the only time flipped some kind of switch in his mind, his hands moving to your thighs before standing up and taking you with him. he took just a couple of steps before lying you down on his bed, eagerly slipping out of his before hovering over top of you. his eyes searched yours for any sign of apprehension or nervousness. but he found none. a simple nod of your head was all it took to have him pushing one of your legs back and lining himself up with your entrance.

as he sank into you, he once again caught you by the mouth. you whined as he slowly stretched you out, trying to keep quiet so you didn't catch the unwanted attention of the others. the express had thin walls, and everyone throughout the hall would hear you if they were in their rooms.

"let it out," he muttered, rolling his hips with a slow steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to him. "dont get shy now."

it didn't seem to be an option, using that moment to fully bottom out inside you. your back arched and a choked noise left your mouth. he did this a few times– keeping his thrusts short yet deep– picking up his pace until your whines and whimpers turned into moans. you could feel your toes curl as the tip of his cock lightly kissed that sweet spot, finally crying out, "mr. yang. r-right there."

he thought the two of you were now well past formalities, but he couldn't help but groan that escaped him at your use of "mr. yang". it had him rutting quicker, and with a bit more force. you were panting, clinging to him while squeezed your eyes shut. his hips were moving at an alarming rate as you dug your fingers into his skin, clenching around him as you cried out. a knot quickly built up in your stomach, releasing just as quickly as it came.

cursed left his mouth as you tightened around him, excited moans leaving you and a euphoric sensation sweeping over your body leaving you a shaking mess underneath him. he hadn't even heard his warning that he was going to cum too, but you didn't seem phased when he pushed into you with one final thrust.

you tried to catch your breath, staring up at him through your lashes. he was still hard, cock twitching inside you as he also tried to cool down. you briefly bit down on your lip, unable to stop yourself from asking, "are you up for another round, mr. yang?"

TAGS: @dottores @dxlucs @mxnjiros @suyacho

[rae-pss]

masterlist

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . i tried to do something here, i swear. drabble inspired by @etheries1015 's idea. special thanks to my dear @livelaughlovesubs for proofreading and helping me with this one, ily (🥹🫶✨). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 878 words, angsty themes, reader is sad bc they feel objectified by the demons.

“why...?”

that was the question that lingered in your head the most. stuck in a sea of misery and hardship that only you could freely navigate and easily drown in.

there was no other way to share the pain of your most incessant storms of thoughts, not when no one there present seemed to care about your mental well-being.

of course, they cared about you, or that's what you wanted to conclude from times when they truthfully helped you. from the moment satan decided to take you to hell to bring minhyeok back, through the various moments in which you needed the different essences of demons and humans to survive, to when your life seemed to be in danger and they were there to rescue or save you… it was all certainly nice, feeling loved on those occasions.

however, all those memories only led to the same point, making you feel like nothing was right that morning. has it ever even been?

they could sing to the winds and swear to hell that they appreciated you, they loved you, that you were the most important person to them. yet, why didn't anyone seem to care about you?

firstly, the elephant in the room, you were the only living descendant of the much acclaimed and beloved –plus dead– solomon. a man who seemed to leave such a great mark on both hell and heaven. your ancestry unknowingly condemned you to a life of pain, unbridled lust, and way more.

someone who said that he saw you as his own child, but that he never seemed to be there for you or understand you in the face of your deepest sorrows.

and, then there was what certainly shrank your heart the most, took the air from your lungs, and made you a mere vessel of what you once could be.

“aren’t i worth more than my body? do they just see me as a sex toy? a pretty face and body to own and use as they please?”

you wanted and implored that the answer to all of that was no, that they didn't see you as such. but how could you convince yourself of that if they only seemed to mind about your physical appearance? they were indeed interested in your personality, especially when you showed one of their sins in front of them, and yet no one seemed to know your favorite color, food, music, or animal.

questions that if strangers in the human world had asked you’d have been somewhat uncomfortable. after all, who asks those nowadays?

and, here you were now, wishing that one of the many demons there would take even the slightest curiosity in you to ask such things. 

“was it so difficult to ask about your favorite weather? what is your favorite type of tea? what is your favorite book? what is your favorite dessert?”

“was it so difficult to feel any interest in your damn tastes?”

there was a time when anger resided like a parasite in your hot veins for every time those thoughts plagued your mind. an arduous sensation that made you want to harm those who unconsciously hurt you so much in the same way.

but, that was already something in the past. now you could only completely shut up and look at the ground. anger is replaced by sadness, deep, drowning sadness. long nights in tears and full days in pain. but, no one seemed to notice, and if they did they didn't even ask about it. 

“would it cost that much to care?”

it was a slow realization process. a clear decomposition of your spirits, your feelings, of you as a being. you didn't even know if you really cared about saving this already damned place, or if you even wanted to go home... home. your home...

and so a single tear fell from your eye, one that you didn't think even thought existed in your weakened body.

minhyeok... would he still be waiting for you? would he even be alive once you got back? would he welcome you with a plate of your favorite food? a bouquet? a hug…?

the only one who understood and knew you. how would he react if he saw you like this? he would surely care for you like a mama bear. taking your temperature, cooking and feeding you, telling you how silly yet precious you are, giving you all that love that you crave so much.

a smile, a weak smile on your lips appeared at the memories of your best friend. how much you missed him day after day, longing to return to the home that was his arms. the warmth that only he knew how to bring to everything around him, including you. the thousand and one apologies he deserved from you.

so much, and for nothing, because you were still there among demons until everything was over... and, that was if they later deigned to let you go, something that you were not even sure was possible. 

you doubted that after all that chaos they’d let you leave their side. knowing them, they would even lock you up if that kept you close to them. just a mere creature trapped in the vile clutches of thirsty beasts.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 5

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.

one. two. three. four.

Five. 五

Donaka's house is beautiful, and it’s a pleasure to be in, even though you’re constantly working at this or that task to keep it immaculate. You don’t mind the honest work. It’s satisfying in a way working on a computer never was, more immediately gratifying than teaching, and certainly less heartbreaking than writing ever was. 

Sometimes you take a moment to just sit and enjoy the ambiance in his rooms, but by far your favorite space in the house is the library. Built in bookshelves line the walls, an antique table sits in the center, and a circle of comfy leather chairs sit by the window. You’ve taken to spending some of your breaks in there, reading this or that for the fifteen minutes allotted. 

You are reaching for a book on a high shelf, just out of your reach, when a much longer arm seemingly appears out of nowhere over your head, plucking down the volume easily. 

You didn't even hear Mr. Mark enter the room. Usually, he’s at work at this time of day, though you’ve noticed he’s been home more lately. You gasp and turn, finding him standing close enough that you feel the warmth emanating from his body. He’s like a furnace.

He enjoys sneaking up on you. There’s nothing he wants more, than to push you back against the shelves and take you, but he is a patient predator. He settles for just handing you the book with a lifted eyebrow. You take it absently, wondering if you are in trouble. It’s impossible to tell, from his impassable expression.

"Hello, Mr. Mark," you say softly. 

He smirks at your timid greeting, delighted with this development. He’s known for days, of course, that you were coming in here. He didn’t really mind–you were always careful with the books, reverent in the way you handled them, even the newer tomes that could be easily replaced. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks sardonically, implying that you should be cleaning something, rather than looking at his books on Chinese art. 

"Yes. I'm...on my break," you are quick to explain. 

Donaka lets his gaze slowly and openly travel over you. He can’t help but find you beautiful, even in your unassuming black dress and white apron, your hair swept back neatly. 

He takes a half-step closer to you, leaning against the bookshelf, caging you in with his broad frame. “You should use this time to take refreshment. Why are you so unkind to your body?” he scolds, annoyed that you do not treat yourself as well as he thinks you should. 

You frown a little, clutching the book to your chest like a shield. He inwardly scoffs at this, finding the thought that a book between you could save you from him. 

"I...didn't want to risk getting food on your books," you admit, annoyed that he seems to think he can control what you eat and drink too. Chill out, man. Even you are smart enough to let that die unsaid on your tongue. 

“Very kind of you,” he deadpans. You do not miss the dry sarcasm in his tone, and you realize you have made a mistake, thinking you could just come in here and be alone with the smell of old paper for a little while. But now you’re stuck with this book in your hands, which you can’t put away without his help. Your quick escape is thwarted.

“How about this,” he proposes, tilting his head. “You can come in here in the evening, any time you want. But right now, you should go have a cup of tea, and a healthy snack.” No potato chips, practically rings out unsaid between you. 

“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Mark,” you say, not happy with this offer at all. Maybe you could do worse, than your handsome employer taking an interest in your health, and offering to share his books with you. But there’s more to it beneath the surface, something darker, controlling. You sense it more than you could prove it.

You wonder how often he would find his way in here, if you started spending your evenings in one of those oversized leather chairs, curled up with a book… You can’t help but look at the table next. That sturdy fucking table, such a debauchable surface, if he were to grab you up and pin you down there…

Stop stop stop. 

You can’t stop. Not your thoughts, at least. Your feet, however, are ready to go. 

He is searching your face with that sharp gaze that sees everything. He doesn’t look pleased, almost as though he knows you’re not going to come in here again unless you are cleaning. 

Hoping to distract him before he can concoct something else, you hand him back the book to re-shelve, since you clearly can't reach it.

He accepts it, his eyes never leaving your face, but his fingers brushing yours. It feels like an electric shock, when he touches you, and that predictable rush of heat floods your body, from the tips of your fingers to your treacherous, aching, center. 

It’s almost as though you have no sense of self-preservation at all. 

"Thank you, Mr. Mark." You sidle around him, thinking about how you’re always fleeing the rooms he's in. It's almost becoming a comedic bit between you–but you’re not laughing, as you feel his hungry eyes on your back as you go.

“Y/n?”

You were so close to escaping. 

“Sir?” you ask timidly, turning slowly in the doorway.

“Tell Mrs. Wong I’ll have my tea early today. Bring it to me on the terrace.”

There is a single beat during which you consider reminding him you’re on your break still, and that’s not usually your duty around the house. The impulse evaporates as he fixes you with that dark stare, and you dare not defy him further. 

“As you like, sir.”  

He inclines his head with a little smirk, as though to say, ‘See how it goes for you when you defy me?’ All in all…you feel like you got off pretty easily. That is, until you are bringing him the tray with his beautiful burnished earthenware yi xing teapot, and some little dishes filled with dried fruit and nuts. They do look tasty, you have to admit, but that’s neither here nor there for you now. 

The terrace is cloistered by greenery, a pool beside it filled with flowing-finned koi carp. In the distance one can see the blue glitter of the sea. It really is a view fit for a king, and even though you still don’t really know a thing about Donaka Mark other than he is wealthy and ridiculously good looking, you are happy for him. 

You set down the tray without making a sound, and he smirks at you as you bow your head, making to flee once more. “Sit down,” he orders, in the guise of a polite invitation. You recognize it immediately for what it is. 

“Sir…” 

You don’t know why the thought of staying with him twists you up in knots inside. Perhaps simply because you want to, even while knowing it is not your place to do so. 

“Sit,” he says again, and with a sigh you do as you’re told, perching on the edge of the chair. It’s incredibly peaceful, in this place. The sound of the fountain tinkling beside you, the salt-tinged breeze coming off the water beyond…for a moment, you close your eyes, perhaps because you can feel his gaze boring into you. You’re not entirely sure what’s happening between the two of you, but that little instinct deep inside that is rarely wrong–and you rarely listen to…is sounding the alarm. 

“This teapot is two-hundred years old,” he tells you, pouring a cup. Your eyes go a little wide, as you think about the heritage you’d unwittingly carted across the house in your two little hands. It must be very valuable. “It makes an exceptional cup of dark oolong.” 

As he sets the cup in front of you, as well as the little dish of dried fruit and nuts, you know you resemble one of those open-mouthed carp in the pond in your surprise. “Another auction-house conquest?” you dare ask. 

“Something like that. It was not cheap.” 

Your lips twist as you attempt to keep your wry comments to yourself. As usual–you fail. “Do me a favor and don’t tell me what you paid for it, if I have to carry it back to the kitchen.” 

He chuckles quietly at that. “You think it was a waste of money?”

“No, there are definitely worse things to waste your money on.” 

You realize a beat later that your comment sounded far more specific than you meant it to, your personal prejudices making their way out the cracks of your armor.

Lucky you, he seems amused by this, though you can’t help but wonder if it’s a trap when he asks, “Oh? Like what?” 

“I didn’t mean you specifically…” 

The flash of his smile is like a baring of teeth; you are equally mesmerized as you are mortified. Is this what the little deer feels, a moment before it is snatched up in the jaws of the tiger?

“Yes you did. Come on, tell me.” 

“I’d rather not.”

“Playing hard to get as usual. Is it my art collection?” 

“No,” you answer immediately. 

“My beautiful house?”

“No,” you reply again in earnest. 

“My clothes?” 

No, you rather like those too. You simply shake your head, wishing, as usual, that you could run away, or turn back time, and shut your fat fucking mouth. 

“Hmm. What’s left? Ah, it’s my cars.” 

You are practically writhing in your seat, as he hits this nail on the head. 

“Absolutely none of my business, sir.” 

“Of course it’s not, but where’s the fun in that?”

You sense the fun in this for him is making you sweat. 

“So go on? What’s wrong with them? Lamborghini not to your taste?” 

You take a sip of tea, closing your eyes momentarily to appreciate the flavor. It really was wonderful, bitter yet somehow silky on the back of the tongue. Enjoy it now, you think–he’s going to fire you in five seconds. 

“Well. If they make you spend that much…” you deadpan, “You’d think they’d at least have the decency not to make them so ugly.”

For a moment you think you are dead–not fired, but soon to be murdered–until a bark of laughter escapes this usually so-severe man, the flash of his white teeth startling in the sunlight. “I’ll be sure to tell them you said so,” he retorts, saluting you with his cup of tea, before taking a sip. “Though you might feel differently, if you’d let me give you a ride.” 

You freeze for a moment while reaching for a peanut. He meant in his car you deranged dumpster fire of a woman. 

“I’m sure…its performance is bar none,” you answer diplomatically. You see his smirk out the corner of your eye, and you feel your ears burning.

“So tell me, my little housekeeper with all the big opinions. If you had my money, what would you spend it on?” 

His money? As usual, you can’t tell if he is baiting you with the subtle choice of his words. You sigh, taking a piece of dried fruit. You think for a few moments, though it doesn’t take long.

“Honestly? The same thing I’m doing now.”

He chuckles at this. “You like cleaning my house that much?”

“It’s not bad.” Despite the probable ulcer developing from living in proximity to this tempting man. “But when my work visa expires in six months, I’m going to travel again.”

Donaka’s expression sharpens immediately at hearing this, his brows pulling in a frown. “You’re leaving us so soon?”

“I…told your assistant, in the interview. It wasn’t a secret.”

Donaka still glowers at you, and you can’t help but feel like you did something wrong. But he wrangles his emotions, whatever they may be, into a neutral expression. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You are obviously overqualified for this position.”

“I am educated, but I don’t really feel like that qualifies me for much of anything.”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, and you sense he is still annoyed with you. “What about your writing?”

You shrug, even while it feels like a knife delivered to your chest. “It’s never come to anything.”

“How hard did you try?”

You trace the rim of your little tea cup, gnawing at the inside of your cheek. 

“Enough to break my heart one more time than I could take,” you admit, suddenly feeling raw under his piercing gaze. Rejection is wearing. So is pouring your soul into something that only amounts to very little when you were foolish enough to hope. You’ve never managed to turn anything you enjoy into a money making endeavor. It always makes you feel like you’re dying inside. 

 Donaka, however, seems less than sympathetic. “You shouldn’t give up.”

You shrug, ready to change the subject. It’s not like you’ve stopped writing. You’re just not writing anything that can ever see the light of day. “I will take that under advisement.”

He narrows his eyes, like he doesn’t believe you’re taking him seriously. “You know what your problem is?”

“Would you like a list?”

“Very funny. But I think you’ve never truly been afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Exactly. I can tell. I think you’re intelligent, and maybe you’re tough, but you’ve never been to the edge of survival. There’s something about your contempt for the display of wealth that makes me think you come from it. You’re content with mediocrity because you know if you have to, you can always run home to mommy and daddy. You have a safety net that keeps you lazy.”

You blink at that. It’s maybe half true, though you would rather eat roadkill than go home to your father with your hand out.  “I’m not…lazy.”

“Of course you are. You’re certainly not realizing your fullest potential.”

This hurts way more than it should. Maybe…because he’s not wrong. This man has an edge of danger to him–it wouldn’t surprise you at all, to learn he’s a self-made millionaire. Maybe he had a rough childhood, and climbed over anyone he had to, to get where he is. Good for him. You wonder vaguely who he’s hurt along his journey to the top. Deep down, you know men don’t get where Donaka Mark is without someone paying a price. 

“Maybe not. But not everyone wins the big jackpot in life. I’m content with where I am now.”

“For now? And where will you go from here?” 

“India, I think.”

“Why?”

“There are still things I want to see.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Because I want to. Because I can. Why do anything in this pointless existence?” You are careful not to raise your voice to him, though your heart gallops in your chest like you are having an argument. The yawning void of your old friend nihilism opens up before you, a black hole you know well but haven’t had to contend with for a while.  

His lips curl for you, though it is not a nice smile. “You lack a sense of purpose.”

He’s not wrong, though you don’t think he understands you as well as he thinks. You find the endless march of humanity perpetuating itself tiresome and destructive. You find the rat race pursuit of wealth for the sake of winning a pissing contest exhausting. The hypocrisy of religion has never appealed to you. On the whole, you find homo sapiens to be a sad and ridiculous species with a few bright spots, but unfortunately you are one, you’re stuck here, and you have to find something to do with your time until you check out.

Usually you’re content in your own little world, trying not to harm anyone…but he flips this switch for you in two seconds flat, and you find yourself clenching your jaw as the weight of it crushes you down. You have to admit this was not how you expected this day to go. Silly you, for thinking you could just sit down with a book for ten minutes unbothered.

He pours himself another cup of tea, pretending that he doesn’t notice you’re stewing in an existential crisis while sitting across from him. “I could change that for you, you know.”

Confused and unsettled, which is probably exactly what he intended to do to you, you shift in your chair. Is he propositioning you? Or is he talking about something else entirely? You feel like a low-level current is running through your bone marrow, slowly cooking you from the inside. 

You’re not sure if he’s asking you to be his mistress–or to join a cult. Maybe it would be nearly one and the same.

From the flashing look in his eyes, you don’t think he expected you to laugh at him. It’s the only way you can get up the courage to say this to his face: “Respectfully…no one says that unless they’re trying to evangelize you into something, Mr. Mark.”

His lips dance as he smirks at you. “But you are above manipulation, Miss y/n?” 

“Probably not,” you admit, suddenly nervous all over again about where this is heading. Why does every conversation you have with this man have to feel like a fucking chess game? “Though I like to think…I am somewhat aware, at least.” 

“Being aware of manipulation is not the same as being immune to it, believe me.” Again he smiles wide enough to flash teeth, and you can tell he is truly enjoying himself now. “Can you really say that wealth doesn’t interest you? I don’t buy it.” 

“The ostentatious display of wealth doesn’t interest me,” you grumble, flashing back to the hellish court-ordered summers you once spent at your father’s tasteless mansion with your insufferable half-siblings always crowing about their latest couture conquests. 

“Ah. That’s why you hate the Lambo.” 

“No, I really do think it’s ugly.” It maybe feels too good to tell him so, after he was so brutally honest to you. However, you can tell immediately that you fail to hit your mark. He lifts his eyebrows, seemingly amused by your agitation, his dark eyes shining. 

You look at him sitting across from you in the dappled afternoon light; why does this man have the right to look so beautiful, while he’s being so mean?

“You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” you grouse. You really would rather be scrubbing a toilet right now. 

“I think if you had real money, you would do the exact same thing I do; use it to acquire things that please you. You’re no different from me, or anyone else.”

What is it about this man, that makes you feel like you’re being slowly electrocuted? You dare to meet his gaze, finding his dark eyes veritably dancing with enjoyment for making you squirm. You cannot help but wonder if he counts you as one of those things. 

Maybe Donaka Mark thinks you’re an underachiever, but you reckon this man might be surprised by your stubborn streak. No matter your fascination with him…you need to cut him from your heart, because you’re more certain than ever that he would be the death of you. You do not possess a thick enough skin to tangle with a man like this on a regular basis. 

“That might be true,” you answer, looking back down at your teacup. “But at least I’m not a bully.” 

“Have I hurt your feelings, y/n?”

He fucking knows he has, and you would give anything to be able to quit the table right then. You consider dropping his precious teapot on the way back to the kitchen; but think better of it, and not just because you suspect he might string you up by your thumbs. It would be a tragic loss of art.  

“May I go, Mr. Mark?” 

“Not until you answer my question.” 

“Yes, you hurt my feelings. Now may I go?” 

“No. How did I offend you? By speaking the truth?” 

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” you answer with a sigh, looking out at the glittering water beyond. 

“Well?”

You make a plaintive sound, wishing the ground would just swallow you up whole, rather than having to admit the truth out loud to this man. But he waits patiently, and you just know there will be no escape for you, until you give this man the answer he wants. 

“I thought…you liked me,” you answer quietly. “But never fear, I am disabused of that foolish notion, sir. Now may I go?” 

“I do like you. Haven’t you been listening?” He sounds genuinely puzzled. 

You laugh at that, and it sounds pathetic even to you.   

Now, at last, he seems as frustrated with you as you are with him. “Fine. Go back to work, y/n.” He makes a shooing gesture with his fingers, and you have never been so grateful to be dismissed in your life. 

You hope this little interlude will convince him to just leave you alone.

“Thank you, sir,” you say with a cloying deference, and you hear him growl behind you as you scurry away. It sends an agonizing thrill jetting down your spine, and it’s all you can do not to run. 

Little do you know, you haven’t scared him off by half. You just threw down a gauntlet.

[jellys-compendium]

Special Delivery

A Rika x GN!Reader Valentine Special

Rating: G

Summary: Rika gets an unexpected Valentines Day gift from her affectionate s/o. Cw: nothing to see here but FLUFF Word count: 1.2K A/n: Exposing my love for Rika with this post. She deserves a lovey-dovey partner who'll treat her right. Happy Valentines Day! 💖

The Paldea Pokemon League was uncharacteristically quiet for a Wednesday afternoon.  However, given that today was Valentine’s Day, the quiet stillness was not entirely unexpected.

In fact, Rika thanked every deity that she could think of for the minor holiday. With everyone out and about enjoying their day, it allowed Rika to tackle the mountain of paperwork that Geeta had so graciously left on her desk the day before.  

The words on the paper blurred and Rika groaned, blinking hard as she pushed her ‘purely for aesthetic purposes’ glasses up the bridge of her nose. It wasn’t even 2pm yet and she could already feel her head starting to pound. 

If she had her way, Rika would have solely blamed the headache on Geeta. But as she glanced at the full and untouched water bottle sitting to her right, she became acutely aware of the source of the throbbing. 

"Coffee isn’t a replacement for water. Be sure to drink it all because I don’t want you getting any more headaches Rika."

A private little smile spread across Rika’s lips at the memory of her partner fussing over her that morning at the table. Half-asleep, Rika had “ah-hah’d” and “mm-hmm’d” as she watched her significant other scurry around the kitchen, finishing their packing of Rika’s lunch before setting down a black coffee and little heart shaped pancakes on the table.

“Happy Valentine's Day, pookie.”

Rika’s heart fluttered as the phantom sensation of her lover’s lips pressed against her cheek. Gosh, she really was whipped for you, no matter what her prickly and standoffish exterior might suggest. You had a knack for catching Rika off guard, flustering her while also simultaneously melting her heart. Some days it didn’t even seem to matter what Geeta threw at her, as long as Rika got to see your smile at the end of the day, she was happy.

WIth you in mind, Rika reached for the untouched water bottle, but just as she was about to open it, the sliding doors from behind her opened, and the unmistakable elegant clack of impeccably shined dress shoes rang through the room.

Speak of the devil.

“Hard at work, today? Shouldn’t you be out celebrating?”

Rika tosses her boss a glancing scowl over her shoulder.

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if a certain someone hadn’t decided to announce an impromptu tournament.”

If it weren’t for the bobbing of her impressive head of hair, Geeta’s poised way of walking would have made her look like she was floating. She’s mesmerizing, powerful and certainly not someone to be trifled with. Rika learned that lesson the hard way early on.

Rika watched Geeta circle her desk from her periphery as she slowly nursed the water bottle. She had a sinking suspicion that her headache was about to get a whole lot worse. 

“What can I say? I was inspired by our newest champion.”

Geeta's smile was the perfect mixture of sweetness and iron. It was difficult to describe, but every time it graced her boss’ lips, Rika knew that she’d be in for the long haul. Still, that didn’t mean that she had to go down without complaint.

Armed and ready with a scathing rebuttal, Rika opens her mouth—but the moment she does the familiar sound of the sliding doors interrupts her.

Rika sighed and restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Seriously, another challenger? Today? It was Valentine's Day for crying out loud, didn’t they have anything better to do?

Donning her practiced scowl for the second time today, Rika turned to face the guest. But instead of the student she expected, a delivery man stood at the threshold. Rika’s jaw slackened when she realized that in his arms sat the most extravagant bouquet of flowers that she had ever seen in her entire life. And given that she lived in Paldea, that was saying something.

Must be from one of Larry’s many admirers no doubt. 

Rika leaned back in her chair, ready to point the man in the direction of the parcel room, when with a smile the young man marched up to her desk and placed the bouquet of flowers right on top of her mountain of papers.

“Special delivery for Ms. Rika!” 

The room became dead silent as both Rika and Geeta studied the monstrous mass of flowers. The bouquet was comprised of every flower in the book. Carnations, roses, bluebells, lilies, daffodils, daisies, oleander, tulips…just to name a few.

And nestled in the bed of flowers sat a red envelope covered with sparkles, hearts, and an adorable little stick figure doodle of Rika holding hands with her partner. The cherry on top was the words “I LOVE YOU RIKA!” written in massive bubble letters in the center. 

Rika’s face turned the brightest shade of red. She could practically feel flames simmering on her cheeks as she was rendered utterly speechless. This was simultaneously the sweetest and most mortifying thing that anyone had ever done for her.

The soft little chuckle from Geeta broke Rika from her stupor. With eyes wide like saucers, Rika looked up and stared at the grinning delivery man over the mountain of flowers. 

“That’s not for me.”

The delivery man raised a brow as his gaze lingered on the glittery envelope.

“Preeetty sure it is, ma’am.”

Before she even realized what was happening, Rika found herself with a clipboard thrust into her hands, and an eager delivery boy tapping on the dotted line.

“Sign here please.”

Flustered and dazed, Rika signed the paper and then watched in stunned silence as the jolly delivery man made his way towards the exit.

“Enjoy your Valentines’ gift ma’am!”

Both Rika and Geeta were left alone once more. Well…not exactly alone. What with the new ecosystem that had just moved into the office and all.

“Well,” Geeta’s tone scarcely hid her smile. “Don’t you have the sweetest Valentine?”

If Rika’s cheeks could get any redder, she could have passed for a Pikachu. Yet despite her simmering embarrassment, Rika felt her heart flutter softly in her chest. With each beat a soothing warmth coursed through her body, tingling along her skin and consuming her from head to toe. She felt…elated and light. 

Arceus, you really could be the pinnacle of embarrassing sometimes—but there really was something to admire about the way you unabashedly showed your affection. It was so liberating and deep down Rika secretly wished that your emotional confidence would rub off on her someday.

For now though, Rika would happily indulge you with kisses before work, cuddles before bed, and encouraging words when the two of you needed them. In the end, Rika loved you more than anything else and she would do anything to make you happy.

With that thought in mind, Rika reached up and plucked the envelope from the bouquet. Carefully opening it so as not to rip the paper, she pulled out the card which–surprise, surprise–had more glitter.

The card read,

My dearest Rika,

You are the love of my life

Thank you for everything that you do

For making me smile and laugh

And for grounding me when I need it

I cherish every second I’m with you

Forever and always

Love you Pookie!

xoxoxo ❤️🩷❤️🩷

“How sweet,” Geeta wistfully sighed from over Rika’s shoulder. “For your sake, I hope you got your Valentine something equally as heartfelt.”

With her heart swelling, Rika’s fingers reached down to brush along the little square box that sat protected in her pants’ pocket.

“Don’t worry. I did.”

divider source

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What do you think L thinks of the successor program?

Previous Thoughts on Wammy's and How the Concept is both Bonkers and Toxic

Well, what we see is pretty damning.

L... Doesn't Talk About it Much and Other Bad Signs

L brings up the successor program once in the manga (this line is removed from the anime adaptation). It's a very one-off line in which he tells Light (while still in the college arc) that "you know, even if you were to kill me, L is legion and I'd just be replaced by the next L" and Light sort of stares at him.

Neither touch on this ever again.

Worse, when the torch is passed, it's only because Watari happened to be in the room where he could push The Big Red Button (TM) that sent information to Wammy's. And yes, while there was clearly a protocol in place to let the successors take on L's legacy, it uh... sure wasn't L pushing that button and the fact that it's a secret button in the security room where Watari hangs out (and certainly not L) leads me to think this is a Watari idea (the orphanage where people compete for the title of L, being in fact, Watari's weird fucking idea).

Most tellingly, L doesn't even bring it up when he knows he's going to die. He doesn't even think to himself "ah yes, those bratty twelve-year-olds in England will get vengeance for me and then Light will be put to justice". L doesn't think about the Wammy program at all in his last day, in fact, he knew for several hours he was going to die and he didn't seek out any means to bring his successors in or even think "oh woe that Light is right there or I could inform my secret successors of everything we need to know".

We learn later that Near and Mello never actually met L, in fact, and if they ever did speak to him it was... brief and impersonal. This leaves them both with weird complexes about the man and their relationship with the role of successor.

In fact, L blatantly says "Light is my successor" and seems to mean it. True, L knew Light was Kira and was perhaps doing this for the mind fuckery, but on the other hand he had no reason to do this and again, had time to take it back once he realized Light was Kira again (which he did very quickly after Light got his memories back). Had L not done this, he could have either a) directly had a Wammy's person take over and explain the whole successor thing (he does not) or b) left it such that Soichiro was in charge. He has nothing to gain by even hinting that Light could take control over his title after he left. And the fact is... Light does do it. He's the power behind L for six years while Near and Mello do... well, Mello joins the mafia and has a time in Nevada, Near does who fucking knows what.

Basically, L couldn't be less supportive of the Wammy's orphanage unless he actively shut it down and fired Watari (but then who would bring him snacks?)

But Why?

L's in it for personal victory. L wants to beat Kira himself, he wants to do it on his own terms, with his own ingenuity. It's not so much about beating Kira but the fact that he will be the one to beat Kira. His 'successors' doing so would be less than meaningless to L.

Leaving it to some twelve-year-old to solve, hand-picked by Watari because they solved puzzles good and read good too, would be worse for L than fucking Matsuda or Misa making a major break in the case (and canonically, both those things happen, and canonically L handles it fucking poorly).

Worse, Watari is not even implying, but outright saying, that L is not so special a super genius snowflake and that Watari can cultivate another one simply through hard work and careful selection. "Congratulations, L, you are irrelevant and superfluous!" And worse, those replacements are little kids and I imagine L finds their quirks... annoying. (I'm not convinced L's not just s troll).

And if we take LABB into account, all L sees them do is kill themselves or make trouble for everyone (through murder). L does not want to deal with these people (and so he doesn't and makes Naomi do it for an entire hilarious novel).

TL;DR

L hates those fuckers.

[cordeliawhohung]

Liquid Smooth [3]

main masterlist | series masterlist

bodyguard!Gaz x fem!model!Reader

it wasn't a waste

warnings: not a whole lot! mentions of blood, a little less bodyguard and a bit more husband material, somewhat mutual pining, some fluff and soft moments with gaz, reader is mad lonely

wc: 4.6k

As it turns out, sleeping with your head resting on the armrest of a couch was not the most comfortable thing in the world, and the kink in your neck reminded you of your unfortunate miscalculation. You woke with a groan as you stiffly lifted your body from the couch. Eyes still blurred with sleep, you glanced around Kyle’s living room as the events of the previous night flooded your memory. 

The break in. How he hugged you. Laying in his bed. Wandering out into the living room. Falling asleep listening to him talk. 

You groaned again as you rubbed the back of your neck, attempting to melt away the knot that formed there overnight. Kyle was nowhere to be found in the living room, but you could hear some sort of rustling coming from the hallway. 

Adjusting your nightshirt, you stood from the couch and began to shuffle down the hallway where you found Kyle in the kitchen. It was a quaint room with a simple oven and limited counter space, but it was completely spotless. He stood with his back turned to you as he rummaged through the pantry, but he must have heard you coming as he quickly turned to face you with a smile. 

“Mornin’ love. Sleep well?” he asked.

You gave him a tired smile before self consciously trying to pat your hair down. Normally, you were a very put together person, always needing to look good for the cameras. But at that moment, you were certain you looked like the world’s hottest mess. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you said awkwardly. 

There was something so exposing about your situation. Perhaps you hadn’t minded it too much the night before due to the adrenaline, but standing in someone else’s home with nothing but the clothes on your back felt odd. Like you now owed a debt just for existing in someone’s space. 

“Figured I’d cook something up for you,” Kyle said as he continued his search throughout his kitchen. “Eggs, toast, that sorta thing.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that,” you assured him. 

“I know,” he responded as he tossed a bagged loaf of bread on the counter, “but I’m not sending you home with an empty stomach. I imagine you’ll already have enough to deal with today, after everything that happened last night.”

You sighed in defeat, both from realizing Kyle was giving you more than he should, and at the thought of having to sort through the logistics of your home. 

“God, I don’t even want to think about that,” you groaned. “We’ll have to check cameras, and I’m sure the police will want a more detailed report. Then I’ve gotta find someone to replace the window. And I’ve already got…”

You trailed off as you felt an odd tightening in your chest. With wide eyes, you quickly glanced around the room, scanning the walls for something. 

“What time is it?” you asked. 

Pausing, Kyle brought his wrist up where he looked at his watch. It was thick, but sat perfectly on the inside of his wrist. 

“Around seven forty,” he said. 

A choked laugh left you as you rubbed at your eyes. A sour feeling started to rise in your throat, and Kyle paused in his pursuit of breakfast to watch you with careful eyes. 

“That a no on breakfast, then?” he quipped half jokingly. 

“I’m supposed to be at a shoot in twenty minutes,” you sighed. “It’s downtown. Fuck I’m gonna be so late…”

“Brunch it is, then,” Kyle hummed as he tossed the bread back into the pantry. “Come on, I’ll drive you.” 

Panicked, you looked down at yourself. The nightshirt and shorts you wore were comfortable last night, but you certainly couldn’t go out looking like that. You had forgotten all about your shoot for that day, so you didn’t even bother to pack an overnight bag, or set your alarm for that matter. 

“I hate to ask this of you, but…”

“Of course,” Kyle butted in, as if reading your mind. 

He slipped across the hallway and into his bedroom where he quickly sorted through his dresser. In no time he had a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt in your arms. A seed of guilt began to eat away at your stomach for taking up more of Kyle’s time, but you pushed that feeling down as much as you could as you slipped into the bathroom to change.  

Kyle Garrick had some long fucking legs, and as you slipped his sweats on, you nearly tripped on all the extra fabric at your feet. His torso wasn’t much better either, and in order to control the cloth, you ended up shoving it into the waistband of the sweats. 

Sighing, you exited the bathroom where you found Kyle shuffling around in the living room. He appeared to be trying to change and gather items at the same time, as the zipper and belt of his pants were wide open while he picked up his wallet off of the coffee table and stuffed it into his pocket. He caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye and turned his attention to where you stood in the entryway with a grin. 

“There is no reason for anyone to be as tall as you are,” you quipped before he could say anything. 

His chuckling drowned out the zipping of his pants and the clinking of his belt as he walked towards you. Once his clothing was fully secure, he knelt in front of you where he began to mess with the hem of the sweatpants. His fingers brushed against the skin of your ankle as he neatly rolled up the extra fabric, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks before you were able to do anything to stop it. Why did things feel so different with Kyle? There were countless times where you had to be in close proximity to rather attractive people. God, you didn’t even want to know how many times you had to be nearly naked next to a man for a photoshoot. For you, it was just work, and nothing awkward. 

Wasn’t this work, too? Kyle was only taking care of you, just like you paid him to do. 

“There. All tripping hazards avoided,” Kyle said. He gave the pants a firm tug just to ensure that everything was secure before he looked back up at you. The smile on his face faltered slightly, and his eyebrows raised. “Doin’ alright, love?” 

You swallowed. “Yeah, just worried about being late.” 

Kyle nodded before he pushed himself back on his feet. For a split second, he was so close to you. Close enough that a hint of his cologne sent your mind spinning. That terrible, alluring scent you remembered from the previous night when you hugged him. But then he took a step back before leaning down at grabbing his car keys off the coffee table, and that feeling began to dissipate. 

“Let’s head out, then.” 

Two hours later and you were in full dress and makeup for your photoshoot. Liquid gold hung from your body in silky sheets and your eyelids were painted in the same metallic color. You looked like a goddess, some heavenly creature that had come down to grace everyone with your presence alone. However, you certainly didn’t feel like one. Not with the way your stomach growled so violently it was nearly louder than the industrial fans blowing your direction. 

But your photographer, being the amazing man that he was, told you to take a quick break when he noticed you were more off balance than usual while posing. Stumbling off the set, you took a seat in one of the chairs resting against the wall while everyone on set reviewed pictures and adjusted lighting and backdrops as needed. 

“Twenty minutes?” a disappointed voice spoke up. “You kept everyone waiting twenty minutes?”

You could recognize that voice from anywhere. Anna Lynn used to model when she was younger under the name A.Lynn. With the period, and capital L, as she would constantly remind people. It had become her identity at that point, and you were too afraid to question her too much on it. She came back into the industry just as you were rising to fame, and she offered to be your manager. And when the A.Lynn offers to be your manager, you don’t say no. 

A.Lynn was insanely smart, and knew everything there was to know about modeling, however, there were times where she could be somewhat neurotic. The look in her eyes was all you needed to know that you were in for a long chastising. She had her hands on her hips as she stood in front of you like a mother ready to discipline her child. 

“Do you realize how unprofessional that is? This photoshoot is going to put you on the cover of Vogue, sweetie. I mean, seriously, what has gotten into you?” she demanded. 

“I know, I know,” you sighed. If you hadn’t had a full face of caked on makeup, you would have been rubbing at your eyes. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. I just, had a rough night last night and I forgot to set my alarm and-”

“Wait, what happened last night?” For as uptight and worrisome as A.Lynn could be, there was a strong motherly side to her as well. One that was rare to find in that industry and have it be sincere.

“Someone broke into my house last night,” you spoke, voice quivering. “Shattered one of my windows on the ground floor. Could hardly sleep because of it and I just forgot about everything, and I’m sorry.” 

Tears were already falling before you could stop them, and you did your best to pat away the moisture without ruining your makeup. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you. There was some sort of guilty feeling eating away at you, and your brain felt fuzzy. You didn’t even cry the night that crazed protester ripped your dress, nearly exposing you. Maybe something really had gotten into you.

“Sweetie,” A.Lynn said, voice softening as her hands fell from her hips, “why didn’t you say anything?”

“I felt like if I did, I was just making excuses,” you sniffled. 

You weren’t sure if it was the tone in your voice, or something else, but A.Lynn’s posture completely changed. She let out a soft sigh and shook her head before taking a step away from you. 

“That’s all I needed to hear. I’m calling the shoot off.”

Your mouth opened in protest, and for a moment your tears stopped due to the utter shock you felt. A.Lynn had been one of the world's most popular models before moving to the management side of things. Even someone who didn’t know her name could tell she held a certain grace and poise about her just from her movements alone. It was easy to forget just how powerful she really was. 

“Seriously? No, I promise I’m fine, I can do it,” you insisted. 

“I saw what you were like up there. You’re clearly not in the right headspace for this, and you looked like you were going to faint. Did you even eat this morning?” she asked with an eyebrow raised. 

Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, all you could do was stare up at her as you folded your hands in your lap. “But you said it yourself, this is going on Vogue, I can’t just-”

“Honey, you are one of, if not the, most popular model in the industry. You could ask for a pink pony and someone would find a way to give one to you. We can reschedule a damn photoshoot,” A.Lynn said. “Now go wash up and take the day off. Won’t do you any good to work yourself to death.” 

What a mess. But it wasn’t going to do you any good arguing with her, and you were certain everyone on earth knew that by that point. With a sigh, you wiped at your eyes, no longer caring about the makeup the artists had delicately painted your skin with. You vanished into one of the changing rooms where you shedded your elegant dress and washed your face. Even the best makeup remover in the world couldn’t remove the shiny metallic of your eyeshadow, but your brain was too fried to even care. 

Once you got dressed again, you stood in the mirror for a moment just to look at yourself. It was Kyle’s clothes that you wore. They were too big for you, but in a way that almost felt right, like it belonged. Maybe you were a little scared about how nice it felt. 

Shaking your head as if that would get it to clear, you gathered your things before slipping back into the studio. Most everyone had cleared out of the space once the shoot was called off, but there were a few stragglers putting away items into storage. A.Lynn was still there, and you were surprised to see that she was speaking with Kyle. He towered over her, yet looked non-threatening with a small bag in his hand. 

After he had dropped you off, you had insisted that he go home to spend his day doing something he enjoyed since he spent the night having to care for you. And it took some convincing to get this man to leave. So why did he come back? Had A.Lynn called him? 

Kyle’s eyes caught sight of you the instant you re-entered the room, and he must have said something to A.Lynn because she turned to get a quick look at you too. She waved you down, and you followed her gesture, joining their little group in the back of the studio. 

“Mr. Garrick, being the gentleman that he is, brought you breakfast,” A.Lynn explained. “He also said he would take you home, if you need the ride.” 

For another time that day, you felt the heat rise in your face, but you tried your best to ignore it as you pulled at your - Kyle’s - shirt. It had been awhile since you had felt like a child, and the events of the last twenty-four hours certainly didn’t help. 

“Eat up, and get some rest,��� was her final parting words to you before she patted your shoulder and vanished, probably to go talk to some representative about rescheduling. 

You looked up at Kyle with slight apprehension and a little bit of guilt. As always, his expression to you was warm, and a slight smile appeared on his face as he held out the small paper bag for you to take. 

“Brunch,” he explained simply. 

“Kyle,” you chuckled as you took the bag from him, “you didn’t have to go through all this. Did A.Lynn make you do this?” 

“Well, since I couldn’t cook for you this morning, I was planning on dropping by with food anyway,” he explained. “And for the record, I was the one that recommended giving you a ride home. Figured it would be best to check things over at the house before leaving you alone again.” 

His words shouldn’t have made your heart flutter as much as it did, and still your body seemed to have a mind of its own. When you had hired the former SAS soldier, you had expected someone older, gruff, and maybe a bit rude. Slightly scary, for sure. You never thought you were hiring someone who’d let you hug them after a break in, and give you their clothes when you had none for the day. 

“You take your job very seriously, Mr. Garrick,” you teased. 

“Well, whether it’s terrorists or home invaders, I always like to do my job well, ma’am,” he teased back. 

Fuck, this man was going to be the death of you. 

The car ride back to your house was full of the delicious croissant sandwiches Kyle bought, and small talk over the quiet volume of the radio. He was easy to talk to, and incredibly sarcastic in a blunt, funny way. You were certain you would never run out of things to talk about with him, and you enjoyed the fact that he avoided asking questions about your job, so you did the same for him. In that moment, you weren’t a model, and he wasn’t your bodyguard, you two were just… well, something. 

When you arrived home, Kyle entered the house with you. A few cops had taped a large tarp over the gaping hole that the shattered window left the night before, but the glass still created a treacherous path all throughout your living room. The plastic rustled in the soft breeze and it echoed dully off of your mostly bare walls. There was too much space for you to try and cover. Even with a whole house to yourself you were afraid to take up too much space. 

“Want me to do a sweep of the house?” Kyle offered. 

You chuckled at the absurdity of his question. “Proper military style?” 

“As opposed to improper?” 

“Just, do whatever you think is best.” 

Kyle shot you a grin before you let him run loose throughout your house. Most people probably would have felt uneasy about letting someone essentially snoop through their home, but honestly, you didn’t have much, if anything, to hide. A majority of your rooms were empty, save for your bedroom. You kept a few guest bedrooms just to make the place feel less empty, and there was a room that you had attempted to turn into an office, yet you hardly used it except when taking pictures to post on your Instagram. 

While he was busy doing… whatever it was he was doing, you got to work on trying to tidy up your home. The shards of glass was the biggest issue, so logically you started there armed with a broom and a dustpan. You grabbed two trash bags and put one inside of the other in order to make a double barrier against any holes that would be created and began sweeping up pan-fuls of shattered glass. 

You wondered where the person who broke into your home had run off to when the alarm had been tripped. Had they needed the money that bad? Honestly, you probably would have given the money to them had they asked for it. You had more than you knew what to do with, anyway. 

“You’ve got a mini cinema in this place?” Kyle spoke up as he walked back into the living room. 

Pausing, you straightened yourself up with a dustpan full of glass shards in your hand. A sheepish smile crossed your lips before you unceremoniously dumped the glass into the bag with the rest. 

“Yeah. Came with the home when I bought it. Haven’t really used it though,” you admitted with a shrug. 

“Seriously? That feels like a crime,” Kyle said, almost with a whine. 

“It’s not as cool when you’re watching stuff by yourself,” you admitted. 

And it wasn’t a lie. Your theatre was impressive, with complete surround sound that had bass that shook you to your core, and a screen that wasn’t quite as large as an actual cinema, but was larger than any TV you had ever seen before. You could watch any movie or show with stunning sound and images. But there were no words that you could string together to explain the heart shattering silence that followed when it was over. 

You were getting tired of hearing your own breathing. 

“But if you’re interested, there’s a port where you can hook up things like consoles and whatnot. Just in case you’d like to get your ass kicked in Siege on the big screen,” you offered with a grin. 

Kyle opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out; only a simple scoff as he nodded his head in defeat. “Yeah. Suppose I asked for that one.” 

Chuckling, you continued to sweep up the floor. In the time that it took Kyle to search through the house for any unwanted visitors, animal or human, you had hardly made a dent in the mess your midnight visitor left. 

“Got another broom?” Kyle asked. 

You bent down in order to hold the dustpan more stable before attempting to sweep yet another pile of glass up. An industrial sized push broom would have made things go much faster, but you were stuck with your small house broom instead. 

“Kyle, please. You’ve already done so much for me with everything that happened last night. I can clean up a bit of a mess,” you insisted. 

It was as if the universe was trying to prove you wrong, because while you were attempting to sweep into the pan, you felt a sharp sting. A shard of glass had flicked up and sliced the soft flesh that laid between your thumb and forefinger. You hissed at the sting and retracted your hand away from the dustpan. A steady river of blood already flowed from the cut, despite it not appearing to be all that deep. 

“You were saying?” Kyle prompted.

“Christ, I can’t seem to catch a break,” you sighed. You said it with a bit of a chuckle, but only because you were convinced that you’d break down if you didn’t. 

“Hey, c’mon,” Kyle said softly. He braved the stray shards of glass that laid between the two of you and took the broom from your hand before leaning it against the wall. You stood up and held your hand, trying to catch the flow of blood from dripping on the floor. “Do you have a first aid kit?” 

Nodding, you turned your head towards the stairs. “Yeah, I’ve got one in the bathroom next to my room.” 

“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” he insisted, hand coming to rest against the small of your back as he gently urged you forward. 

In an attempt to ignore the warmth of his hand, you focused instead on the crimson pooling in the palm of your hand. It was so thick, and you could feel it coagulating already. 

Just like the rest of your house, your bathroom was impressive. A large, whirlpool tub sat in the far corner, but it was more akin to a hot tub than anything else. There was a regular shower, which you had remodeled to be more similar to a classic shower because you found that the overhead raindrop system got your shampoo into your eyes. Then, of course, a large and extravagant vanity with lighting that was similar to what you’d find in the makeup room of a theatre. 

“Bottom drawer on the left,” you directed.

While Kyle shuffled through the drawer, you held your hand over the sink where the blood splattered into the bowl. Avoiding getting blood elsewhere, you turned the water on and washed the coagulated mess down the drain. 

“Luckily for you, I completed first aid training while I was in basic,” Kyle said as he set the small kit on the counter next to you. “So there will be no bleeding out on my watch.” 

“I’d sure hope not,” you chuckled. 

Kyle grabbed a small pack of gauze before ripping the packaging open. He held his other hand out and made a slight grabbing motion, asking for your hand. Turning the water off, you quickly held your hand for him to take, and he instantly pressed the gauze against your cut to soak up the blood. 

You tried not to look at him. You were certain you would combust if you did. There was no way in the world you would be able to survive looking at him while he held your hand as delicately as he did. Carefully wiping away any blood, but not using so much pressure as to aggravate the cut. He was too kind to you. 

“A simple band aid might not cut it since it’s in such an odd spot, so I’ll try wrapping it instead,” Kyle explained. 

He pulled the gauze away from your hand and checked the amount of blood that was on it. It was already starting to slow, but you could see just how deep and jagged the cut was, like it tore through your flesh more than it sliced through it. Tossing it to the side, Kyle opened up a fresh set of gauze before pressing it against your hand again. Then, he fumbled with a few other items until he found some wrapping material. 

His hands were so large compared to yours, and the way his fingers gently traced the palm of your hand as he smoothed out the wrap made your stomach flutter. Even being around Kyle was electrifying in a way that almost hurt. There was something deep inside of you that ached for him. Something that you needed to ignore. 

“There we go. All better,” he finished. 

Smiling, you turned your hand over to inspect his work. The gauze was held securely in place, and the wrapping was significantly better than anything you would have been able to accomplish by yourself. You looked up to find that he was already looking at you. And it shouldn’t have meant anything. It didn’t mean anything. But you wanted it to. Fuck, you wanted it to so bad. 

“Thank you. For everything,” you said, voice growing soft. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m sorry I cut into your personal time.”

“Don’t worry about it, it was my pleasure,” Kyle said as a slight grin began to pull at his lips. “Besides, you make decent company.” 

You giggled at that comment, but only so you could bite back the words that threatened to spill from your lips. He was just so… everything. So kind and funny and sweet it was almost infuriating. Some sort of longing built up inside of you so furiously that it almost felt like aggression. It was like having something just beyond reach. Like waking up from a dream. 

“Well, I appreciate it, but I should let you get home. You’ve wasted enough time on me as is,” you said with a bashful smile. 

Avoiding his gaze, you instead turned your attention to the bloody gauze on the counter and picked it up before carefully walking to the small trashcan next to the toilet. You had hardly thrown the item away before Kyle spoke up again. 

“It wasn’t a waste.” 

Your attention snapped to Kyle, and he suddenly seemed almost unsure of himself. He ran a careful hand over his hair as he looked down at his feet. Whatever uneasiness he expressed quickly vanished as he hooked a thumb into one his pockets. 

“If you need anything else, just call, yeah?” he said, looking back up at you. 

You nodded. “Yeah, of course. And thanks again.” 

Kyle smiled, and you swore you almost broke then and there. Those thoughts swimming around in your mind were dangerous and needed to be smothered, but a part of you enjoyed entertaining them too much. But as you walked him out of your house, you knew that it couldn’t last forever. This little crush of yours. Sure, it felt fun and exciting, but it was fleeting. It was something that would stretch its wings and fly off without you in an instant. 

But for now, you could pretend. If it made that house feel a little smaller; if it made the nights less quiet; you could pretend. At least for a little while. 

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your landlord isn’t ready to let you go.

prompts. | Andy Barber + roommate/tenant AU + “Isn’t it beautiful? Bulletproof, too.” + dumbification, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!landlord!Andy Barber x fem!tenant!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, kidnapping, violence (andy hits the reader’s head against the wall, briefly), drinking, obsession, possessiveness, dumbification, mean!Andy, age gap, captivity in a basement, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

The ad said they were renting a room in a beautiful suburban home. You did a quick Google search about the man and learned he was the Assistant District Attorney—a respectable man. You were hesitant at first, of course.

But you should’ve been more careful.

Andy’s hand grips the back of your neck as he gives you a tour of his new home—the one he forcibly took you to. You know precisely what made him snap. 

After almost two years of living in his house, you finally found a place of your own that you could afford with your job. When you told him about it, he stared at you in disbelief before walking off, leaving you in the dark for almost two days.

You had already begun packing your things, knowing that when Andy would come back, he’d want you out immediately. That was fine, you said to yourself. You had a friend you could stay with until the moving day. 

Andy had always been so kind to you. He didn’t make you feel like a stranger in his home. He often brought you food whenever he assumed you’d be hungry. He certainly wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t a lousy landlord. His demanded rent was reasonable yet not questionable. 

“You’ve always been such a stupid girl, huh?” he sniffs when you try to fight him again. You’re shivering in the thin dress he made you wear once you woke up. You faintly remember him banging the side of your head against the wall, just enough to knock you out. “Thinking you could leave me. Haven’t I been good to you? You’ll never find a man like me again,” he scoffs.

You bite your tongue, tempted to mention how his ex-wife divorced him and left him for a much gentler man. 

“C’mon, get a good look around. Let’s see if any of it will stick in that empty head ‘a yours,” he sneers, and the words cut through you like a knife. He’s heard you sniffling over your notes and cramming for exams, only to receive an average mark. How could he do this to you? Who does he think he is? A powerful man, that’s who. 

“You’re definitely not seeing up here for a few months. Not unless you’re being a good girl—and clearly, you haven’t been one,” he comments, and fear consumes you. He will leave you in the basement—the same dark, dreary place you found yourself in not too long ago. 

Andy shoves you in and out of different rooms, barely letting you examine your surroundings properly. But you’ve seen enough to realize just how demented he is—he’s got stock photos of different lifetime milestones in photo frames that decorate almost every wall. Ready for replacement.

Other than that, the place is boring. There truly is nothing special—until he gets to the stunning, stained-glass window. Ironically, in the centre of it, there’s a dove. Roses surround her, and she looks content despite the limitations of the material she’s made of. 

“Isn’t it beautiful? Bulletproof, too,” he comments, voice rough as he spits the words out. His breath smells like alcohol, and it makes you think about how deep down, Andy Barber is still some suburban man who has a few too many screws loose, yet not enough courage to admit it.

“Don’t even start thinkin’ about gettin’ outta here. S’not happenin’,” he grumbles. “But I’d love to see a stupid little girl like you try. It’d be funny,” he chuckles, and he lets you stare at the coloured glass for a little while longer.

“What is wrong with you?” you seethe, though your words are wobbly. You’re on the verge of tears, undeniably scared for your life. “Me? Nothin’. I just can’t believe you’d try and leave your future husband like that. What a dumb girl,” Andy smirks before shoving you back towards the door to the basement.

You would try fighting him, but even if you managed to get out of his strong, painful hold, where would you go? The doors are bolted and have keycodes to them. Maybe he was lying, but what happens after if you manage to break a window? You’d run outside, but you know you wouldn’t make it that far. 

Not in the cold—not with a desperate, crazy man chasing after you.

[avocadoguru]

He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. (wolfrry, werewolf!harry, alpha!harry, ranger!y/n)

Lupus Noctis- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 8 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 9 (word count: 23.7k)

Y/N had really really missed Harry. It was only a week that she was gone. But just a few days prior when she called him on her break, he told her he couldn’t talk and then got off the phone with her in less than a minute. It was reminiscent of what had happened to her in a past relationship.

She dated a nice enough guy named Mark. They had been seeing one another for 6 months and things were going well, or so she thought. And then she went to military school. She wouldn’t be able to see Mark for a month here or a month there. The second month that she couldn’t make it back home her calls with Mark progressively got shorter and shorter. Until one day he just didn’t call her back. 

When she went home to visit she learned that he was dating someone new. He hadn’t even told her. It was upsetting. She wouldn’t have called herself devastated but it took a bit to get over him. He had hurt her. And she never asked him directly why he’d done it but she understood that it was the distance. The longer she was away the easier she was to forget. She had no lasting effect on Mark. He obviously didn’t like her enough to wait, she determined. 

So she figured that Harry was feeling the same, especially since they hadn’t known one another that long. She imagined scenarios of him running into someone he used to like or an old flame and they hit it off and he was busy with her now that Y/N was away. She wasn’t away long but she would be easy to replace because Harry could literally have his pick. Of course, she would never speak those self-sabotaging thoughts out loud but they were there in the back of her conscious mind every time she was left alone to think. 

But seeing him at the airport and then learning what was keeping him busy plus the thoughtfulness of putting her family photo and training certificates above the dresser in his room had her feeling so intensely happy and relieved that she physically felt the shift in herself about who Harry was. He was still here. He was still hers. Those endlessly crystalline green eyes looking at her as if she was all there was left to look at in the world.

Yes, the feeling was physical. The heat spread over her tummy and up to her ribs and neck until she was compelled to turn in his arms and grasp onto him to pull him down toward her mouth. 

She couldn’t answer him right away. It didn’t matter anyway. All she knew was how she felt and the way he spoke to her and looked at her and treated her. He really liked her. Maybe just as much as she liked him. His gesture was a vulnerable one. One that made her realize that this was the kind of man she deserved. A man that wasn’t shy to show her his feelings. He might not tell her in certain words, but his actions proved it all without a shadow of a doubt. She felt secure with him, safe, excited. 

Harry put his hands into her hair to pull her face closer. He felt like he couldn’t get her close enough. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest pressed against his and the desperation in her kiss was not missed by him. He hadn’t really expected this reaction to the frames above the dresser but he certainly wasn’t disappointed. Maybe this meant yes? Yes that she’d like to stay with him. He did all this for her after all. 

Her arms went around his back and then under the hem of his shirt, pushing her palms up the skin over his spine and to the expanse where his muscles formed over his ribs. When he moved his lips to the corner of her mouth and down to her jaw she scraped her nails into his flesh just the tiniest bit and felt his chest vibrate as he moaned. 

Suddenly she was being put onto the bed and she gasped feeling his large hands around her middle. Harry climbed over her, his body covering hers.

Her scent was concentrated. This was similar to what he’d smelled before on her, of which he later learned was her ovulating and the hormones from being fertile. He could take care of her and make her feel good. Help calm her hormones and even his own. She’d be ovulating for days and he could make a nest for her and soothe her during her “heat”. Fuck her and eat her out all she wanted. If she wanted.

“You smell so fucking good, kitten. Just wanna eat you up.”

Her words were caught in Harry’s mouth as he lowered himself over her to kiss her again, nudging himself between her thighs as he pushed them apart.

Yes, that did sound very good. To have Harry’s mouth on her again. She wouldn’t mind that at all. But she also wanted even more.

She pushed at his chest suddenly feeling shaky and needy, “Here, I want these off,” she spoke as she began to claw at the waistband of his jeans, plucking at his button.

Harry sat back and smirked down at her. She was displaying her need as if she were in heat, he thought to himself as he unzipped his pants and then pulled at hers, “Let’s get yours off too.”

Harry was thankful his rut was just a distant memory now. He was more in control but he didn’t know how he would handle it if she wanted his cock. If he felt her pretty and deliciously scented pussy wrapped around him, coating him in herself… he would need to keep his head on straight and take it easy which was not going to be simple. 

The moment her silky cunt was exposed to him as he pulled her panties down he’d barely lowered them past her knees when he dove in tongue first to get a taste. 

She gasped and tried to spread her legs but her panties were limiting the movement of her limbs. But it didn’t stop Harry from dipping his tongue into her precious center and lapping at her.

When he needed better access he groaned in frustration and tore the material off before grasping the back of her thighs and pushing her legs to her chest.

“Fuck, kitten,” he spoke as he lowered his mouth back to her labia and used his tongue to flick and press over her clit. He swallowed her sticky essence and basked in the sound of her moans. 

With her legs pressed into her chest, she brought her arms around her sides and pushed her fingers into his hair. 

Once again, Harry’s method of eating pussy was uncouth, boorish, animalistic. Y/N stopped breathing for a few moments as she felt him pull and lick and suck and kiss. 

He brought his mouth down to her entrance and jutted his tongue inside as far as he could reach it. He’d lick all along the insides of her warm slick walls if he could. Slurp out all of her arousal and fill his belly with it. 

She could feel his nose pressed into her cunt, slipping over her clit as his lips sucked and his tongue moved inside of her opening. He held the back of her thighs tight as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. She was sure it would bruise but it only made her press him into her harder, grasping his hair and holding him in place. 

She whined his name and Harry felt his cock twitch. He was going to show her how much he missed her. Make her orgasm and fall in love with him and want to live with him and be his mate. He’d do whatever it took. He just wanted her to want him. He hoped she wanted him the same.

When he brought his lips back up to her clit he let go of one of her thighs and moved his free hand to her entrance, circling slowly and getting the pads of his fingers wet as he felt her folds and little hole, barely letting his middle finger dip in. But when he felt her tighten her grip on his hair he knew what she wanted.

He pushed himself back and released her other thigh, heaving his breaths as he looked down at her with droopy lids and parted lips. He pulled at the hem of her shirt and lifted it to get it off finally. He wanted to see all of her. He’d been in such a hurry he’d only gotten her pants and panties off. 

She sat up and moved her arms overhead as he removed the useless thing. Once it was tossed into the room she unhooked her bra and threw it in the same direction as where her shirt went. Harry unbuttoned his own shirt, keeping his eyes on her body and her face. She was so pretty. All of her. He didn’t know where to look. 

And Y/N had the same problem. He was gorgeous. His handsome angular face and prominent nose, pink wet lips, and messy curls that fell over his strong shoulders and his broad chest, all the way down his well-defined, tattooed torso to the lovely cock he sported that was thick and full and heavy with its crown pointing right at her. His slit beginning to glisten and the swollen edges of his frenulum which she knew were smooth and lovely to lick and pop into her mouth.

Harry settled back in between her legs, lowering himself so his shoulders were pushing at her thighs, his forearms caging her in before he was situated over her pussy once again, “You missed me didn’t you?” He smirked as he looked down at her wet crease and licked his lips.

She laughed and just before she could respond to his cocky remark his mouth was back on her again, effectively making her forget whatever words she had planned to speak to him. She threw her head back and gasped when she felt a finger press into her opening as he stroked her front wall and flattened his tongue over her clit.

But then he inserted a second finger and she arched her back and bucked her hips upward against his hand and his face. He was lapping at her with a lazy tongue, slow and affectionate kisses to her crease and up to her sensitive button. 

Harry was feeling the ache in his cock. His tip was dragging against the blanket below as he continued his work. He needed her to come so badly. Just wanted to help her feel better and to show her what she could have with him if she said yes. And based on her reaction he thought she might.

“Harry! Oh!” Y/N’s fingers carded through his hair again as she writhed over his fingers, pulling him in deep. Harry was loving her response. When she pulled at his strands and coughed out a loud moan he imagined getting to have this every night and every morning. He’d want it before bed and first thing. He had an insatiable appetite as it was, but with her, it was far more consuming because it wasn’t just sex. He wanted to take care of her and provide for her. He wanted to know her deeply and make her happy. He wanted to be for her what she was for him. 

“Ffffuck… fuck… oh god! Mmmm…” Her coos and whines and moans were lovely, just absolutely amazing. He could listen to it all day. Would listen to it all day if she let him. He would come again just from her little noises and her taste alone if he hadn’t taken care of himself before picking her up at the airport. 

Without intending to, she squeezed her thighs around his head when she felt herself begin to come, “Harry! H- Harry! Ohh!”

Harry dug in as deep as possible, slurping her clit in and stroking her front wall with his fingers, dragging them into the little dip that made her lose it. She ground her cunt into his face and cried and tasting her release Harry allowed the smallest vibration from his chest to sound when he purred before reeling it back in. 

She felt his wet fingers pull out of her pussy and grasp onto her thigh, pushing her legs back down as he slowly licked her up and down. She keened and sucked in a sharp breath at how sensitive she was after her orgasm but his warm tongue didn’t let up. She pushed at his head and jolted when he only pushed his mouth over her harder, “Harry! It’s… oh god!” 

Harry smiled as he took one more swipe with his tongue and then moved his lips outward to her hip and down to the soft part of her thigh, licking over her silky flesh. He couldn’t help himself as he bit into her skin, allowing only the tiniest bit of his fang to pierce into her. A dainty mark that wouldn’t mean as much to her as it did to him or to anyone like him that got near her. 

She hissed and bucked her hips up at the nip he gave her but then he moved to her other side, licking the inside of her thigh, the delicate plump skin, now lightly scented with her arousal from his mouth. Another small nip and lick to complete the markings. He kissed over the tiny cut, gently squeezing her thighs as he did so.

“Did you..” Y/N’s words were breathy, “... just bite me?” She laughed out as she pushed herself up to look down at him still kissing the inside of her thigh.

Harry groaned and pushed himself up to look at her with a smirk, “Just couldn’t help myself.”

She honestly didn’t mind it. It was sort of hot to her. She figured she could bite him a little bit too if that’s what he was into. 

With his eyes on hers, he dragged his finger through her crease again and she let out a pathetic whine, “I love your pussy, Y/N. So wet for me too,” he licked his lips as he pressed into her clit, wiping her arousal around her swollen bud.

Still sitting with her elbows propping her up she watched as he kept tracing his fingers over her pussy - spreading her shiny juice all around. His gaze made her feel hot, vulnerable, wanted. He wanted her. 

Her lips parted slightly as she watched him take his free hand and slowly stroke himself. She’d just been eaten out like his life depended on it but this very moment with his fingers smearing her arousal around, his eyes on hers, and his cock in his hand felt even more intimate. Felt even more raw and real. She gasped when he pushed his middle finger inside again and watched as he pressed in to his knuckle, wetting the expensive ring he wore, and then pulled out to his fingertip. Leisurely, he continued to glide his fist up and down his cock as he pushed his finger into her with the same rhythm. As if to suggest his intentions. 

Spreading her legs wider she scooted in toward him and pulled him down by the back of his neck to push their mouths together. Burning, wet, trembling, desperate. Harry let go of his cock and pulled his finger out, wiping it at her hip as he pushed her down. He placed himself right over her, his cock nudging into her folds. He moved his hips back and then pushed forward again. Smooth and wet on the underside of his cock he moaned and licked into her mouth.

Y/N lifted her hips to press herself into his big cock, his tip gliding over her clit, back and forth. She panted into his mouth and grasped onto his back. She wanted more. Needed it. 

He wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from fucking her when her moans were so sweet and her pussy was so wet against his dick. She was squirming under him, straining to push herself into him, practically begging him for it. 

Harry pushed himself up, keeping his cock warm between her labia as he slid himself up and down and watched as his crown grazed into her clit. She gasped with her mouth wide open, her eyes on his face, urging him for more. 

And she only grew wetter. He could smell her horniness. Could smell that she was fertile. She needed him. Needed his cock to feel soothed. And he wanted to give it to her. He wanted to make her feel good.

The sight below him was carnal, decadent, sensuous. His cock was long and every time he slid upward, the bulbous crown would reach past her belly button when his balls met her wet pussy. Harry’s breathing was starting to become labored. He wanted to put himself out of his misery, wanted her to say the word and he’d burrow into her like he knew she wanted. 

But it would take a bit of work. He could fit, certainly, he’d been told. But Harry was an alpha, so even for his kind he was larger than most. Her body could accommodate but he’d need to go in slowly and take his time. He just needed the green light.

Y/N fluttered her eyes closed at the feel of him heavy and silky over her pussy and nudging into her clit. She kept tilting her pelvis upward, thinking perhaps he’d just give in, sink inside of her and tear her apart with that big cock. 

When he groped at her breast she opened her eyes and he was already looking at her. Like he was pleading, begging for her to give him permission. She moaned and then looked down between them and it made her gasp. His beautiful cock was shiny and coated in her and his tip had a tasty drop of precome leaking from it. 

He hadn’t made a move to get a condom but something in her just didn’t give a fuck. She was out of her mind with him, perhaps he’d sucked her brains out along with her soul when he gave her head, but she didn’t want to interrupt the moment, she needed him now. And so, brushing off any good sense that lingered and deciding she’d worry about it all later she moved her hand down to his thick cock, wrapped her fingers over the top of him, and guided him down to her opening as she kept her eyes on his.

His lips parted and the small whimper that fell from his mouth as he watched her move him into position came out involuntarily. 

“You want my cock kitten?”

Y/N nodded, “Please. Wanna feel you.”

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard before looking between their bodies with his tip placed at her entrance, the very top already just inside. He had to take care. He needed to go in slow and make sure she stayed slippery. Bringing his thumb down to her clit he slowly massaged it, up and down, the pad of his thumb drenched in her.

Holding onto his shaft he pushed upward and then back down to her entrance and with the most gentle prod he could manage began to push in. He watched Y/N’s face for any sign of anything. He wanted it to be good. Wanted her to feel the way she was making him feel. 

Her moans quieted as his crown was fully pressed in past the tight muscle at her entry. And Harry thought to himself, it was very tight. It felt like he could tear her open. And her sudden silence worried him but when he stopped and she looked up at him, her mouth dropped open and her eyes wide she let out a coo as she threw her head back, the line of her neck from her jaw to her clavicle on display, “H-harry… ooohhhh….” 

That had to have been a good sign. She was moaning his name and acting as if she was already on edge and he’d only just pushed his tip in. 

He continued giving her clit attention as he kept himself still, “Kitten, tell me how you feel. You’re so tight I don’t want to hurt you,” his own words were soft and slurred.

Forcing her eyes open she tilted her head up to look at him. His eyes were hooded and she could tell that it felt good for him. And it was good for her too. He was quite big, though. His initial plunge didn’t hurt but the pressure was intense and she felt her body adjusting to his size, spreading apart and opening for him. But he’d only just barely sunk in.

She grasped onto his forearm, “You’re big but it’s really good. Want to feel more of you. Please.”

Harry licked his lips and looked down at her small hand on his forearm. It was just like he’d imagined time and time again. He fantasized that she’d need to hang on as he pushed in. He moved his gaze up toward her belly button and then to her beautiful plump breasts. He pushed in another inch as he cooed at her, “Yeah? Such a good girl, Y/N. Gonna work you open slowly, okay?”

With her mouth still parted she nodded and let out a hushed whine. Everything he was doing and saying was even better than what she had envisioned. She’d fingered herself and used her vibrator plenty of times imagining how Harry would go about fucking her. And now that it was happening, now that he was inching his way into her warm cunt it felt so much hotter and even more perfect. Harry’s cock was a lot bigger than anything she’d ever used on herself but already with the attention he was giving to her and with how slow he was going this was the best she’d ever had. 

Harry pulled back an inch and then dipped in another inch, slowly rocking himself into her. She was absolutely drenched and puffy and taking him in so well despite her smaller human size. He had never had sex with a human. All of his experience had been with betas who were used to taking someone his size. But this time was different - Y/N’s smaller entrance and size needed a bit of time to adjust but he could tell, that inch by inch she was slowly opening up and he watched in awe as his cock sunk deeper into her with every minute that passed.

It was a lot of work. Y/N was enjoying every single moment of it though. Because Harry’s finger on her clit was already making her drip and quiver. She could come from the clitoral stimulation alone. She gasped when she felt him glide into her g-spot, softly massaging the spongy place inside of her that oft was neglected. In fact, most of the guys she’d had sex with weren’t quite as thick as Harry so when their dick could hit it it was only every now and then. But with Harry - he was so wide and filled her so fully that once his cock got in to the spot he was constantly pressing into it, moving along it as he pushed in. She was going to come already.

And Harry watched in amazement as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her slightly shaky thighs started to tremble and her moans came out louder and more frantic. She dug her nails into his forearm.

“Oh god! I’m coming!” 

She hadn’t expected it. She was feeling the lovely zip of the beginning of an orgasm tingle from her clit and figured it was possible because he was working her so nicely but the further into her he reached with the pressure over her g-spot and his thumb applying just the right amount of force it popped and sizzled and she couldn’t stop it. 

Harry choked out a moan and watched her come on his cock for the first time. He felt her clench and pulse over him and it was unlike anything he’s ever known. He hadn’t realized how good it would feel to have her coming around him, though he was barely even halfway inside. He realized that she was probably coming because he was rubbing at her clit but fuck it felt amazing to have her coming so fast. 

She spurted the tiniest bit of liquid out and he groaned as he watched the spectacle. He continued slipping his thumb up and down over her clit and she grabbed onto her left breast as her breathing shallowed and she opened her eyes.

Her pupils were totally blown out and her face was flushed. She looked like sex. Like his mate. Like everything he’d ever wanted. He’d give it all up for her. Live in her world and be her man. 

“Oh… wow,” her breathy words came out in a whisper, a small smile on her face.

“Squeezed the fuck out of me, kitten. Felt so good having you come on my cock like that. Ready for more?” 

She was sure she could handle more. Though she was feeling very sensitive and her pussy was beginning to ache from the stretch she nodded. She needed him to come too. Would never think of denying him an orgasm. Not when he was so pretty when he came. Not when he’d already given her two. And she was sure he wouldn’t stop until she came again.

And he wouldn’t stop. He would treat her tonight. Fuck her, come inside of her over and over again, let her use him all night (that was once she got used to him). Harry was losing it. His flesh was on fire. He would come soon and he wanted to control his beast at least a little but he was so close to the edge after seeing her and feeling her come he was worried that he’d let go a little as soon as he poured into her.

Now, Harry wasn’t concerned about coming too fast and it affecting his performance. That wasn’t really much of an issue for him. He could stay hard for her after coming. He wouldn’t go soft like a normal human man. As long as he had his mate on his cock he’d stay hard for her and he could come multiple times himself.

What he was concerned about was coming too soon and having his wolf rise to the surface. If he came while she wasn’t also coming she might be too aware of his guttural growl, his glowing eyes, he’d need to check himself that his fangs didn’t unsheathe or that he didn’t knot in her. But of course, orgasming at all would be a test. Because Harry never had to reign himself in. Normally, when he came with a beta he’d pound her into whatever surface she was lying on (or kneeling on if he was going in from behind), hard and deep so she could barely catch her breath, and keep his hand wrapped around her neck to hold her in place. Sometimes it would take a moment for the beta to recover and even stand up. He really didn’t want to scare Y/N by fucking her too hard like he was used to. So his one saving grace could be holding off until she came again in hopes of her being too far gone to notice that he was doing anything out of his norm (what she knew to be his norm).

Harry continued slowly pressing in but Y/N decided he was moving too slowly. Yes, his cock was large but she was confident, especially at that point after two orgasms and how wet she was, that she could take him. She lifted her legs and pushed her heels into his ass, “Need more, please, Harry,” she panted. 

Harry clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared. She smelled so good and the way she was prodding him with her feet and her words… he called on all of his strength, all of his restraint to keep himself in line. If she wanted him, he’d give it to her but he still had to take a moment to have his good sense at the forefront.

“I don’t know if you realize what you’re asking me, little girl,” he bucked into her a little harder, his dick reaching into something that riled a pain sensor from her insides, “can you take me? Want me to stuff you full?”

Y/N was already half wondering if she’d regret it but she knew she wouldn’t. Deep down, there could be no regrets, no matter what he did to her. She wanted it. She could almost taste his lust and his need for more. He needed more and he was holding back but she didn’t want that. She wanted him to show her what he could do. 

“Fuck, Harry. Yes! I can take it…” her nipples were peaked and her chest rising and falling fast. She braced herself for him to finish it - push in until she was yelping and aching and having him hold her hips down so she couldn’t wiggle away from him. She wanted it. Needed him to ruin her. 

Harry shook his head and closed his eyes. She wanted it. He could show her a bit. Give her a little show and see how she responded. Maybe she’d like it. Maybe he could increase the intensity slowly. Maybe they were a perfect fit. 

Harry allowed her heels to push him further into her and with the abrupt movement, he could really feel her silky, warm insides giving way for him. He moaned as she kept pressing her feet into him, urging him in. When his cock sunk in to a point where he was halted and she hissed he looked down. A shaky breath fell from his mouth as he sat back to his heels and pulled back a touch, watching himself push back into her.

Y/N moaned as he shallowly rolled his hips and began to bring his length out and push back in, slowly working up to get into a faster pace.

“Kitten, it’s so pretty. Wish you could see this like I can,” he realized she wouldn’t be able to see his cock submerging and shiny with her smeared over his length, her pussy gripping him as he pulled out and the way his cock slowly got deeper.

She couldn’t see it but she could see him, see his abs contracting, his strong thighs steadying himself and keeping the cadence in a healthy rhythm. And she could hear it. She was wet and his cock was hard and even if she knew he wasn’t all the way in she could hear the way he was plunging into her, how she was drenching him as he dipped in deeper.

She also noted that perhaps she’d been a bit too confident that she could take him so quickly. She was hoping he could just pound into her and fuck her into oblivion but there was a reason he was being so gentle. Because each time he poked in as deep as he could get it ached and she could feel him pushing into something that had never been reached inside of her before. 

But if she hadn’t been so turned on, hadn’t already had two orgasms that may or may not have given her tunnel vision at that moment, perhaps she’d have been more self-aware but she didn’t care. She’d always heard that being aroused and having sex made people dumb, and maybe that was what was going on now. Hell, she was letting him go in without a condom and she absolutely did not feel a single bit of regret, at least at the moment. 

“Fuck me harder, Harry…” she gasped her words and Harry squeezed his eyes closed. He was going to have trouble with this girl if she was asking him for things like this. He really thought she’d be in pain or be squirming away from him with how big he was. 

So he angled himself to hover over her, allowing his pelvis to rub at her clit instead of his finger because he was going to give her what she wanted if that’s what she really wanted. 

Harry licked his lips and continued his shallow thrusts, looking into her eyes, “You want me to fuck you harder?” He rocked into her further and her mouth dropped open wider at the intrusion but she only nodded. The girl was reckless.

“Yeah? Like this?” He did it again, pushing in hard and moving a hand up to her neck so she wouldn’t move upward too much when he started to get deeper, wanted to hold her still.

“Yes, yes… oh my god…” she panted her words and grasped onto his forearms again, one was holding himself up with his palm on the bed near her shoulder, the other was holding her down.

So he obliged, dragging himself out nearly to his tip, and rushed back in with a heavy movement inward causing her to gasp again.

For Harry, it felt nice going slow but increasing the pace and pushing into her deeper felt more natural and fed his desires, making his heart burst for her. It wasn’t just physical, even though the act itself was, it was also securing a bond with her to be pushing into her and pleasing her with a part of him, and in turn, her body was doing the same for him. His kind understood this way of thinking - the physical part as an expression of something deep and unbreakable.

And for Y/N, that sentiment wasn’t much different. She liked that he went in slowly and gently at first but when he began to thrust himself harder and deeper it felt more real to her. It felt like she was finally getting the Harry that she met under the full moon who looked wild and intimidating, despite having a gun aimed at him. This was the Harry that showed up at the lake and swam around her like a predator. He was always there. She’d gotten glimpses of this part of him. And it’s what she wanted because she wanted him. 

Harry’s deep groans above her drowned out her own breathy ones. His hand around her neck squeezed lightly, not as hard as he could, but just enough that any noises she made were stifled. The space Harry took up on top of her was powerful. His momentum was greedy and gouging. The spreading ache that traveled through her guts was satisfying, energizing. 

“Do you feel this? F-fuck…” Harry’s abdomen was on fire. The pleasure that was building in him needed to be quelled until she could come. He was losing his composure.

She did feel it. Y/N felt it with her whole being. She felt the coiling tension tightening and releasing with each roll of his hips. Her skin prickled and burned with need for him. She was sticky and slick between her legs and his pelvis was grinding into her clit every time he pressed in. Her mind was buzzing and heat pooled in her low back as he sunk down into her. Every inch of her that he filled belonged to him. She couldn’t deny it. 

His eyes were bright as he watched her. He could tell she liked it. She was enjoying how hard his cock was and the way he buried himself into her over and over again. She only got wetter and her pretty face was getting hot. He could feel the mess she’d gotten all over his groin, he was wet all around his cock and his senses were in overdrive. Her scent was on his tongue and the sound of her pussy being spread apart and pushed into could be heard each time he stuffed himself into her. He could feel her muscle tightening and squeezing around him, gripping him as he move in and backed out. She was going to come again. 

Harry slowed his movements and Y/N’s body stopped jolting from the force of his thrusts. Removing his hand from her neck her grip loosened from his forearm, and he pulled out. His movements were swift as he flipped her to her tummy and pushed her thighs apart. Her chest was burning. She had been so close and if he’d continued for a minute longer as he was she would have finished.

As it was, though, instead of having a third orgasm for the night, suddenly she was being manhandled and grabbed by her hips as he leaned over her back and licked from the top of her back thigh, over her bottom, and up her spine with the curve of her back. She shuddered at the feel of his wide tongue on her back and when he repeated on the other side she swore she felt a vibration coming from him. 

She felt him spreading her bottom with his hands and then his knees nudged at her thighs as he lifted her hips so her ass was in the air. He leaned over her back, both arms caging her in, his chest pressed into her shoulder blades, “Want it like this, kitten?”

Y/N nodded and turned to look at Harry over her shoulder, “Yes, please.”

Harry groaned and kissed her neck, pushing her hair off the side he pressed his lips to. Pushing his nose to the back of her ear he used his tongue to wet her lobe and then nipped at it. She moaned softly as he lowered his mouth and then nipped her neck, pinching at the skin just enough that she felt it.

“Love hearing you say please,” he spoke into her ear, “such a good girl.”

He straightened his arms and leaned back so he could glide his tip through her crease before pressing his cockhead to her entrance. Her pussy was swollen and glistening and so pretty. And so fragrant. He would never get over the way she smelled and just knowing he was going to be coated in her scent made him feral.

And just like the first time he pushed into her, the small tight ring of her entrance gripped at him as his thick head forced its way in. 

They panted as he began long strokes into her, slipping out and then rocking himself back in. He held her at her hips as he undulated in. His grunts were deep and breathy and the way his fingers dug into her flesh pinched but she loved it. Wanted him to grab her and handle her like he wanted. She trusted him wholly.

His hips were meeting her bottom and she felt his length poking deep. She yelped when he pounded into her a bit harder and grasped the blankets below her, “Harry… yess! Oh!”

She’d always enjoyed a little pain while having sex, though she’d never been fucked by someone who was so big. He couldn’t help it really - he was only giving her what he was naturally working with and that idea alone made her head spin. He had gotten her so wet and so worked up and he was the best without question so the ache and pinch of pain felt incredible. 

Harry let go with one of his hands and brought his fingers into her hair, pulling her neck back as he leaned over her, “You want to come? Need to feel good again, kitten? I can tell you’re already shaking.”

Y/N’s eyes were squeezed closed and the sting of his fingers pulling at her hair and tilting her head back was tantalizing, “Yeah… I need… oh! Fffffuck!” Harry’s hips smacked into her bottom, the sound of him fucking into her with his body meeting hers made the experience even hotter. The noises coming from them, the ache in her thighs and her guts, the way her head spun and her pussy dripped.

“I know what you need, dirty girl. Go on. Rub your little button so you can come like you want.”

Harry was clenching his teeth. She had sweat built up at her hairline as she shakily brought her hand between her legs and began quickly moving her fingers back and forth over her soaked pussy, pressing into her clit.

“Thank you! Oh my god!!” She felt herself unravel and her toes curled, literally curled (that was a first) as he pushed into her with such fervor that she felt like she’d fall off the edge of the earth if he wasn’t holding onto her hair and her hip like he was. 

She pushed against his thrusts as her body began to light up and spark with an orgasm unlike any she’d ever had. His cock pushed through her insides and split her walls, his fast pace causing his bulbous head to drag and press into her g-spot. She thought she was vibrating, flying, screaming but she couldn’t be sure as she pulsed and cried. 

The one arm holding herself up nearly gave out and so Harry only held her tighter to keep her pussy angled for him. He allowed her a few good moments of coming undone, his long cock slipping in and out quickly and smoothly, the mattress starting to creak the tiniest bit.

“Fuck kitten, ffffuck… you’re so good, so good…” Harry tightened his hold on her hair making sure she couldn’t turn her head to see his eyes glow golden when he couldn’t hold back any longer, finally letting his orgasm wash over his body. He moaned loudly and permitted himself to purr when he knew she wouldn’t notice, not with the way she was shaking under him. He loved being able to let himself go with his true form but holding back his knot was slightly more difficult. Because he knew she was ovulating and his body naturally wanted to breed her, to keep her attached to his cock as he continuously pumped his come into her. Even if he knew logically he couldn’t get her pregnant, his body yearned to respond as if it could. But knotting in her would probably have her running for the hills, the moment his knot subsided, that is. So, holding back his urge to knot was slightly painful but it was worth it not to scare her. His nails pinched into her skin, warm come filling her body as he continued fucking himself into her as deep as he could reach. As deep as her body allowed. 

Looking down at where he was sinking into her was picture worthy. His come was dripping from her and his cock was coated in her creamy release and his own. He flushed hot as he continued pouring into her, grunting and feeling her pulse and flutter around him. Her whole body was convulsing and covered with a small sheen of sweat.

She removed her fingers from her clit when she didn’t need the stimulation anymore and her pussy was getting too sensitive. Harry continued thrusting, going slower, more gentle as his own release was finally subsiding. She put her face into the blankets and moaned as his length slowly pushed into her and then pulled out all the way. He watched his come drip down her folds and toward her clit as he scooped it up with his tip and pressed it back in, plunging deep to push his sperm into her further. Wanted her body to feel it all.

Y/N was spent. She was breathing hard and still a little shaky but Harry was still fucking her slowly, the sloppy wet mess getting pushed into over and over again. It felt good. His cock was still hard but she was positive she had not another orgasm to give him. 

She put one of her hands back to find Harry’s that had been gripping her hip, “Harry! Ahh!” She laughed as she squirmed a bit at how tender her insides were from his cock moving through her.

Harry chuckled. He knew she was getting sensitive with the way she was lightly jolting each time he pushed his thick head into her. He knew he could make her come again if he kept going and he could too, even. 

“Yeah? Too much, kitten?” He pressed in quickly and deeply one more good time before releasing her hip and taking her hand over his and slotting his fingers through hers. Pulling out slowly he groaned, “So fucking pretty, though. You sure you can’t handle more?”

Y/N groaned and turned her face, her eyes were closed, “I’m sure. That was a lot.”

Harry paused and then pulled her up and into his arms, “Was it? Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes and nodded lazily, “Of course, it was amazing, Harry. I’ve never come so hard in my life. There’s just a lot of you and you are… well, you’re still hard even, so somehow you can just keep going and going and… I’d need to really prepare for that. Maybe once I’m used to how big you are…”

Harry grinned and wiped at the sweat on her forehead, “I’ve never come so hard in my life either.”

Before she could protest she felt him grab her into his arms and sat her at the edge of the bed. She winced a bit, she was definitely sore, but he didn’t notice as he was busy looking for his shirt. After retrieving it, he dressed her in it as per their custom, and even put his pants back on- a tricky feat considering he was still hard, to Y/N’s disbelief.

He took her back into his arms then and proceeded to walk them downstairs to the kitchen. “Dunno about you but that really opened up my appetite!”

Y/N deadpanned at him, “You can’t be serious! I’m ready to pass out!”

“Oh, but the night is still young, darling.” he murmured into her ear before placing her gently on a chair at the kitchen table, “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. She was in deep, deep trouble with this man. 

“Besides, it’s been too many hours since you’ve had something to eat, since we skipped dinner. But I’d cooked something for us. I was intending for us to sit down and share a nice meal in the new house, but the little minx had other plans, didn’t she?”

Y/N’s mouth fell agape at his insinuation. And why was he so energetic? He was practically sprinting around, all joyous and ready to gear up for round two. She truly hoped a late dinner would help her bounce back a bit, too. She was, in fact, quite hungry now that he’d mentioned it.

Harry heated up the creamy squash risotto with parmesan and once he’d set the table and everything was in place, he grabbed Y/N into his arms again and sat her in his lap, instead. “That’s more like it. Wanted to do this back when you cooked me pizza, too. But it’s alright. You’re naked this time around so it’s even better this way.”

“I am not!” 

Harry raised an eyebrow and snaked his hand under the hem of his shirt she was wearing and she swatted it away, “I thought you wanted to feed me, not feel me up.”

“Why, are the two mutually exclusive? Who says I can’t have my cake and eat it too?”

Y/N kept her mouth shut. She figured she’d best play along if she wanted to go to sleep before the sun was up. 

She slumped against him, she really was tired. But he held her straight and even spoon-fed her. She really enjoyed what he’d cooked for them but she was too tired to even chew properly. He’d even paired a fancy bottle of wine to go with it all, but she refused, knowing that if she had any alcohol she’d fall asleep right there and then.

She really couldn’t comprehend how Harry had any energy left, let alone how much of it he had. And his erection hadn’t gone down, she could feel it poking the side of her thigh from time to time. Eating did help a little, but she knew she was gonna crash soon. She was just exhausted, what with her plane ride and the emotional rollercoaster of seeing his new house, topped off with the way she’d had 3 amazing orgasms that had sucked every ounce of energy she’d had left in her. Maybe Harry had sucked it out of her when he ate her out, who knows.

She giggled at the thought of that and Harry’s attention snapped back at her, “Look who’s feeling better.”

“Slightly better. And I don’t know if better is the right word. I was feeling amazing already. What would’ve felt better than that would’ve been sleeping in your arms right about now.”

“Soon. Let’s head back, hm?”

Y/N nodded and after Harry downed the glass of wine he brought them back into the bedroom. He placed her gently back on the bed, took the shirt back off of her, and got her under the covers and after discarding his pants and groaning at the feel of being free of the confinement, he slid in next to her, pulling her into his arms immediately.

Y/N was confused. She was expecting him to pounce on her the minute they got back into the bedroom. She grazed her hand over his muscular thigh and further up, and sure enough, she felt him still hard against the back of her hand.

“What are you looking for, kitten?” he murmured amusedly.

“Well, did you change your mind?”

“Thought you were sleepy.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. Well. She had been. She was. But maybe not as much? And, well, she couldn’t just leave him hanging in good conscience. So, she slowly pulled out of his arms and watched him look at her confusedly as she sat on her knees next to him. She kept the covers around her middle and straddled him, scooting downward so that she laid directly over top of his cock, having its crown nudge at her entrance as it laid flat between them.

“Y/N… I was just teasing you a bit. Well, not initially. But when you barely ate anything at the table I realized I was pushing it a bit. We don’t have to do anything, I’m more than happy with–”

But she silenced him as she lowered over him and kissed him languidly. “Don’t be deceived by this position, I’m not intending on riding you. Well, not tonight. But you can fuck into me and hold me close. Go slow…”

Harry grunted. He loved the sound of that. It was exactly what he’d had in mind anyway, except he would’ve had her be a pillow princess for him and not do any work whatsoever. This worked too, since he had better access to her tits that he felt he’d neglected thus far. 

He adjusted himself so that she could sink onto him, ever so slowly. She winced and wiggled in his lap, and he knew this would be the one downside to this position. He knew she was sore from before, could tell with just the way she would adjust herself in his lap as they ate. But she was being so brave about it, and his heart soared with how she wanted to please him.

He lavished her breasts with his attention, fondled and licked and sucked at them and he held her steady and fucked into her slowly, careful not to have her sink over him abruptly. But she was surprisingly wet for him. Which aided her to glide down on him considerably. “Looks like you weren’t quite done with me, either, kitten.”

Her only response was a breathy moan, and he decided to stop teasing her. He gathered her against his chest and bent his knees holding her spread for him as he picked up the pace somewhat, but still kept his strokes languid and drawn out. She began kissing up his neck, licking and even nipping at the flesh there, just the way he liked to do to her. 

Harry moaned loudly at that and she figured that must’ve been one of his erogenous zones. He worked her against him in time with his thrusts, making sure her clit was rubbing against his pubic hair and she was already trembling, her breath hitched. 

It was slow and sloppy and wet and sweaty, and Y/N couldn’t help but think to herself that this was a lot like making love. The realization made her quiver and then she felt something inside her snap. And it wasn’t just her release, but her feelings for him overflowed and engulfed her completely. She let it all wash over her as she heard and felt him let go, following her immediately.

Y/N gasped when he dropped her down to the bed on her back and got in between her legs, attaching his mouth to her core as he pushed her thighs apart. She squealed and tried to writhe away but he held her thighs tighter and spoke against her cunt, “Stay still. Need to clean you up. Be a good girl for me.” And well, what was she going to say? He was gentle as he lapped her up and slurped their mixed liquids out of her cunt. But then in a more shocking move, Harry leaned over her, his mouth just above hers as he grasped her jaw, causing her mouth to fall open and spit their release over her tongue, “Good fucking girl. Best dessert either of us could’ve asked for.”

Harry waited a little to fall asleep. He wanted to watch her eyes flutter shut and listen to her breathing even out before allowing his own eyes to close. He was surprised at how well she took him and he realized he’d underestimated her. He was also surprised at how well he’d stayed composed as he came inside of her. He was scared he’d simply lose it but he didn’t. He allowed himself to come and enjoy her body like he wanted and it turned out better than he thought possible. He was able to purr and let his eyes glow in her presence without her having any idea of those things happening. And not knotting in her was a shame, but he could handle it. He’d be okay to keep his instincts and his urges at bay if it meant he could have her like that every night. 

He felt like he’d really gotten away with something immense. Of all the times he’d imagined this moment, it had always seemed so far away, unattainable. But getting to finally fuck her and have her coming on his dick felt like everything had changed. It was real. He’d done it and had succeeded in controlling himself. Harry nuzzled into her neck and his arms tightened around her before drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.

*

Y/N woke up with the bed empty. She looked around the lovely master suite with the light falling through the curtains and smiled, stretching her arms overhead when she remembered how amazing the night before was. But the moment she tried to climb off the bed she was reminded about how it was more than amazing… it was also a bit rough. Which she of course loved, but the aftermath was catching up to her.

When Harry saw her limping into the kitchen he stopped what he was doing, placing the spatula down, and hurried to her, “Are you okay? Fuck… did I do this?” He looked her over and saw the smallest bruises at the sides of her neck and then a larger bruise on her thigh peeking out from his shirt.

Y/N laughed and put her hands on his biceps to push him back a little as he was examining her skin. If he saw the topmost parts of her thighs where he’d bitten her he’d really freak out, “I’m fine. Don’t worry! God, Harry… last night was so good. Please don’t worry. I’m going to bruise a little once in a while, but don’t think that this wasn’t worth it. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

She felt herself getting hot just imagining it all over again. Because she truly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. The way he let loose and just grabbed her and pulled at her, bit her… She would happily welcome him that way every single time they had sex.

Harry looked up at her, the worry on his face carving frown lines on his forehead, “You’re not hurt, though?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled lovingly up at him, “Harry… will you listen to me? I said I’m fine. I loved every single moment of last night and if you dare try and hold back from me because you think you’ll bruise me then I’m going to be very disappointed. You are so good. The best ever. Please… that was exactly what I needed.”

Harry smiled and his features softened at her words, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, what have you made me for breakfast?” She asked as she sat down and he served her a plate of eggs and toast with a bowl of fruit on the side and a grin on his face that told her he was about to say something cheeky.

“None of your rabbit food. You need sustenance for the kind of physical activities I’ve got planned for you, missy,” he smeared a bit of pancake batter on top of her nose at that and then turned his attention back to the pan to flip the next one. 

Y/N had trouble coming to terms that this was the same man that had fucked her raw the night before, even though he’d started out gentle at first. He turned to look at her as if he'd read her mind, and the sweet dimpled smile slowly morphed into a smirk, a very eloquent example of the duality of who Harry was.

They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence and then she remembered to ask as she cleared their plates “Have you set a date for dropping off Eddie at your uncle’s?”

“No, you said you wanted to come with, and I wasn’t sure what your work schedule looked like after your trip.”

“Well, the thing is today is kinda my only day off this week. The station was understaffed while the majority of us were gone for training, so now we got to pick up some slack and let the seniors take a few days off, too. And since you just moved in here… I dunno, feels like the right thing to do. Not to get Eddie too used to this new house, you know? I bet it’s pretty confusing for him as is… It just breaks my heart knowing how he’s going to suffer from separation anxiety again.”

Harry furrowed his brows watching as Y/N was getting visibly upset over it. More than just upset, she got teary-eyed and tried to hide it from him. He tilted her face to look into her eyes and he was once again taken aback by how much the girl cared for his nephew. He thumbed away a lone tear that fell from her eyes and caressed her cheek with the now moist fingerpad, “I know you’re worried about him, and I’m sad to do this too, but I wouldn’t even be considering it if I didn’t know it’s for the best. Remember, we discussed this, hm?”

She nodded and let her cheek rest against his palm, closing her eyes and sighing, “I know, but he’s just a puppy and he’ll feel abandoned before it gets better…”

Harry had already talked to Edward about it while she’d been away. And while his nephew couldn’t communicate how he felt about it, he knew he understood it was for the better. And the prospect of having other kids of his own kind to play around with was really exciting for him. He was actually looking forward to it. Of course, he’d miss his uncle, as Harry would him, but it’s not like he wouldn’t go visit every once in a while.

But of course, he couldn’t explain all of this to Y/N. In her mind, Edward was just a puppy, in which case, she’d be right. So he didn’t try to argue with her on this. “He won’t feel abandoned because he’ll have a lot of new people and… puppies to play with, and he’ll be distracted. He’ll be showered with attention and love, he won’t have time to feel alone. And we’ll go visit. If you want.”

“Of course!” Y/N hugged him then, and it occurred to Harry that this was the first time she’d ever hugged him, aside from cuddling in their sleep. In fact, Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever been hugged before. He put his arms around her and buried his nose in her hair and was very aware of how perfectly they fit together like that. In fact, Harry was more and more surprised with how good it felt to do things like this, things that gave him pleasure other than just sexually. He enjoyed kissing her without it having to lead to sex, or holding her in his arms at night, touching her just to feel her close- when driving, for instance, and now, hugging.

“Alright then,” he pulled away and ran his fingers through her hair a bit, “I’ll go get him from Niall’s and call my uncle to give him a heads up, and then we’ll be on our way there.”

Y/N fidgeted a bit before asking, “Could you drop me off at my place first?”

Harry figured she’d want to pack her belongings and move them in, and so he nodded smilingly, looking forward to her seeing the way he’d spruced up her place while she was gone. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about her landlord now, everything was looking better than before.

But her reaction when they got there wasn’t exactly what he’d expected.

“Harry… what have you done?”

“I fixed up the place like I promised.”

“But you did more than just replace what was damaged… I mean… there was no reason to re-paint… it doesn’t even smell like my place anymore. And… and… ugh. I know this is going to sound very ungrateful of me, but, Harry… I was hoping I would have a say in what you’d buy to replace the damaged items…”

Harry’s smile faded progressively. He cleared his throat, his brows furrowing in worry, “I, uh… Yeah, I guess I did take the liberty of replacing everything with stuff I personally liked, but, since I’d hired the designer for the house, I brought her in here too to help me fix up the place as quickly as possible. And besides…” he lowered his eyes, gluing his gaze to the tips of his chelsea boots, “I didn’t think it’d matter all that much, since… I was hoping you’d be moving in with me, in the new house…”

Y/N sat down on the new sofa and hid her face in her palms. This was so overwhelming. She appreciated his good intentions, but he was overstepping, by a long shot. This was her home. Well, she didn’t own it, but she’d been renting it ever since she’d moved there and it was the only thing that felt homey to her. And now it felt entirely alien to her. 

She felt him approach her and crouch in front of her, and then he asked her in a soft voice, “Will you please look at me?”

She removed her hands and took in his concerned expression.

“Did I fuck up?”

She bit her lower lip, and slowly nodded which made him frown even deeper, “I know you meant well, Harry. But this was my home… and now, it’s… it just isn’t, anymore. And… don’t get me wrong, what you did, with the framed photo and certificates… that was very sweet. And I think I showed you just how much I loved that gesture,” she gave him a pointed look, “but even if… I have nothing against keeping them there… I was thinking more like… me staying over for a few days, then you coming over to mine for a few… then maybe a few days apart…”

“... Apart?”

He sounded so disheartened that it made her heart sink. But she needed to be truthful with him, “I mean… I can’t believe you were really assuming I’d be moving in with you right away, Harry. I mean… we’ve only known each other a little over a month… and we’ve only been official for a week! Don’t you think this is moving a bit too fast?... Like, I don’t even know what you do for a living! And how you can afford to buy a house like that on such short notice. Or the cars you have. I don’t even know your last name, for fuck’s sake!”

Harry was at a loss for words, which was an alien concept for him. But he truly didn’t know how to counter all of what she said.

Y/N felt like she was suffocating watching him process all she told him, and she stood up abruptly, needing a bit of space. She went into her bedroom, which of course, was nothing like before. It was nice. It wasn’t like she didn’t like it- she actually really liked it, his taste was very refined, but it just wasn’t her. She groaned in frustration while Harry watched her from afar.

He felt like shit.

How did he ever think she’d be okay with him taking all of these decisions for her? He’d been warned, Niall had told him as much- humans need their space, their freedom. Especially Y/N, what with how independent she was. He’d fucked up.

But what hurt the most was the realization that she’d only be spending a few days with him at a time. She didn’t want to move in with him, not for good. She’d still want to keep her place. Her freedom. And now he’d taken that away from her. 

And she was right. There were still so many things she didn’t know about him. But she’d never know the full truth, and that had already been eating at him. This just underlined how much she’d been going into this blindly with him. How unfair it was to her. She didn’t know the full extent of what she was getting herself into with him, no matter how much he told her about himself. 

He reluctantly sat up. He didn’t know what to do to fix it. He walked over to the bedroom and found her sitting on the edge of the bed looking defeated. “I’ll bring the designer back, have her redecorate with your choice of furniture–”

“Harry, it’s not that! You’re missing the point… I don’t mind what you picked out, I do like it. I like your taste, the place looks great. But I had no say in any of this… You’re just making choices for me, and I’m… I’m not comfortable with that. Stop assuming things, alright?... I’m my own person. I don’t need a man deciding for me!”

Harry winced at that and took a step back. Then another. After a beat, he cleared his throat, “I’ll go get Edward. I’ll be back in a bit if you still want to come with me to my uncle’s…” Then he promptly left. He couldn’t bear looking at her knowing he’d disappointed her like that. She was hurt by the way he seemingly overlooked her input into any of this. But it wasn’t like he thought she didn’t have a say in any of this… Of course she did. He’d just been… really excited, and went overboard. Wanted to make it so that she wouldn’t want to say no to moving in with him, without realizing he was twisting her arm to do so.

He’d never been so angry with himself. 

*

Y/N wasn’t sure Harry was going to come back, at this point. It’d been 3 hours since he left to go get Eddie. She didn’t know what was stalling him, but she’d eventually started getting things done around the house. She put a load of clothes in the wash and had even stepped out to get a morning-after pill. 

The whole scene earlier had sobered her up. 

The last thing she needed was a surprise pregnancy to tie it all up. 

Harry was… intense. She’d known this from the start, of course, but she’d never been with someone as… possessive as he was. And while she enjoyed his dominant personality, especially in bed, she was still a very independent woman at the end of the day. 

But as minutes turned into hours, and she’d had time to cool off, she realized she may have overreacted a bit.

Harry had been well-intentioned. He’d wanted to surprise her and had everything replaced by the time she came back from her trip, even went above and beyond with the fresh coat of paint and the deep cleaning. That in itself meant that he wasn’t just assuming she’d move in with him no matter what. Why would he go through the trouble of doing all that if he was so sure she’d move in with him? He could’ve just cleaned up the apartment since most of the furniture was her own, and she’d have been all settled up with the landlord and good to go. No, he wasn’t sure she’d say yes. And he came up with such a sweet way to ask her to move in with him…

Y/N felt like a jerk. Yes, Harry may have had an unconventional way of showing his affection, but he’d been genuinely well-intentioned. She could tell what she told him had taken him by surprise. And he even offered to have the designer come back in and help her pick out something else. Which she wouldn’t, of course, but she liked that he realized he’d overstepped and wanted to fix it the best way he could.

She was about to cave in and call him when she heard a soft knock on the door. When she opened the door she found him standing there with his arms crossed. It was all so weird to her. Harry was very self-assured, she’d never seen him so wary and tentative. He was picking at his lower lip and not saying anything and she smiled at his nervous gesture. 

“Where have you been? Thought you said you’d be right back.”

“I stalled. I hate seeing you upset, Y/N. I’m so sorry I overstepped. I didn’t mean to. That was never my intention. I want you to do what makes you happy- and if the prospect of moving in with me isn’t what makes you happy… then I need to accept that.”

She grabbed his hand away from his lips and tugged it, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him, “It’s not that it wouldn’t make me happy, Harry. Of course, it would. But it would also make me feel very anxious and vulnerable. I need a bit more time, it’s just too fast for me… That’s all I’m saying. I need to feel like I know you a bit better.”

Harry nodded rapidly, “Yes, I understand. You’re right. Take all the time you need. The offer is on the table, alright? I won’t ask again and pressure you.” He took a step closer and placed his hands on her hips. The hours he took to clear his mind and man up enough to face her again had been agonizing. He was afraid she’d cut him out of her life completely. He even imagined her breaking up with him. After all, she told him point blank that she didn’t need a man. He’d been afraid to face that possibility. For the first time in his life, he’d been a coward. 

But here she was, smiling at him and touching him, and pulling him inside her apartment. And immense relief washed all over him. He hadn’t lost her. He needed to tread carefully, but she was still there. Still his. He rested his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent deeply. He couldn’t lose her. Not after what they’d just shared the night before. He knew she was his mate. His life would never be the same without her in it.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Forgive me? I’m going too fast, I know. But I can’t help it with you. I’ll try, for your sake, to dial it down. Don’t want to scare you off…”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized Harry felt so strongly for her. The truth was, she was holding back, too. She already felt like she was in love with him. 

“The only thing that scares me is how I feel for you,” she admitted, whisperingly. “I know it’s too soon to feel this way, and I’m trying to… dial it down, like you said. But it’s not working.”

He pulled back the tiniest bit to look into her eyes. Could it be that she was feeling the same way? Could it be that the reason she didn’t want to move in together yet was because she was trying to pace herself? “Don’t hold back,” he murmured.

And Y/N wished it could be as simple as that. But she was afraid. Maybe she’d build up courage, but for now, all she could do was kiss him. And she poured all her heart into the kiss. She felt him sigh contentedly through his nose and the tension from his body leave as he pulled her in closer, flush against him, and deepened the kiss. She moaned into his mouth and Harry couldn’t fight the smile on his lips as he kept kissing her. “There’s my kitten. Not running away from me, are you?”

She shook her head between kisses and then pulled back to catch her breath, “I meant it when I told you I’m yours, Harry. And you didn’t scare me off. Your intentions were good, and I know you meant well. I… may have overreacted a bit. But that’s only because… I do want to move in with you, and it scares me… “

Harry cupped her cheeks, “Let’s just take it slow, ok? Just have some stuff over at the house, and if you ever feel like you need some space, you can come back here for a few. And I’ll be understanding, alright? Do it at your own pace. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah?” she smiled. She really liked that idea. If it ever got overwhelming, she could come back to her place. 

“Of course.” he smiled back

“Okay,” she bit her lower lip as she grinned wildly. He kissed her again, and again, and again which made her giggle and then she finally unglued herself from him, “Let’s go, we got a long drive ahead of us.”

*

Y/N insisted on holding Eddie the entire way to Lester’s, which warmed and annoyed Harry in equal parts. He wanted to keep his hand between her thighs (no funny business while his nephew was around, of course; just to feel closer to her). But seeing as this was their last few hours together, the 3 of them, for the foreseeable future, he allowed it. 

Part of the 2-3 hours he’d spent stalling before going back to get Y/N had been talking to Edward. He again explained the situation and why it was best for him to go live with his uncle, and the little one seemed excited to leave for this new place where he’d be having so much more fun. Harry felt guilty taking in his nephew’s enthusiasm. Had he selfishly kept him with himself this whole time when he could’ve done this from the get-go, just like his uncle had suggested? Harry had a hard time coming to the realization that, maybe, sometimes other people did know best. As an alpha, it was a hard pill to swallow. He thought he’d done the best thing for his nephew, but nothing good had come of it. He hadn’t even been able to shift back this whole time since his brother had passed.

Harry looked over to Y/N's lap and saw he’d fallen asleep, she was still petting his fur lightly. He could tell the girl had grown attached to the little one. He wished he could tell her the whole truth of it and put her mind at ease thoroughly. But for now, he was happy that she saw his angle and agreed with him, even with as little as he could share.

“Gonna take you in to see my work when we get back,” he announced at one point which perked Y/N's ears up.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You should’ve asked me sooner- I didn’t even realize I hadn’t brought it up before.” A lie, but he decided he’d have to stop feeling guilty for the small white lies he had to tell her in order to protect her. He’d had time to think this through while she was away on her trip, and the only way forward was to keep her in the dark about his wolf. She could never know about that part of him. If the pack were to ever find out, she’d be killed in cold blood. And he could never risk that. Not to mention, he was certain she’d not want anything to do with him once she found out what he was. It was either this, or give her up completely. And he was so far gone now that that wasn’t even an option anymore. “You noticed I have a thing for cars, I remember you pointing it out. And I do, it’s a passion of mine. I decided to turn this passion into something profitable from a very early age. My brother also was passionate about this, but I saw a business opportunity there and I picked up from where he’d started and turned it into what it is today- essentially, a car shop that specializes in collectible vehicles. Everything from reconditioning and scouring for parts, to dealing with vintage or rare models. It started off small but it’s well known in the industry now and I have people flying in from all over to see the goodies I have in store for them.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. That was very fitting, indeed. And it did sound like it would earn him a lot of money. “That’s very impressive, Harry. And it’s something I could tell you’re really passionate about. I’m excited to go see, thank you for taking me.”

Harry glanced at her, “Of course, kitten.” He pinched her chin playfully before turning his head back towards the road.

“Wow, you must think my car is shit, don’t you?” she laughed. “I mean, I already suspected you did. Any chance you could just see it as… vintage? It is old, after all.”

Harry laughed at that. “Yeah, erm, vintage… sure. I had a plan about that, but since this all is moving too fast for you, I’ll keep it to myself. For now.”

“Harry…” she warned.

“What? I didn’t say anything! But at the very least let me take it into the shop and have the guys look at it, make sure it doesn’t disintegrate or something. You can have your pick of mine while they’re at it.”

“Absolutely not!”

“You haven’t seen all of them! Surely you’ll find something you like!”

“That’s not the point!” she laughed. “Is that your love language, then?” she asked after a bit.

“... Love language?”

“Yeah, you know… the way you express, uhm, affection. I think yours is acts of service. Could be gift-giving, too, but I choose not to believe that! Hmmm… maybe physical touch, too.”

Harry furrowed his brows smilingly. That was an interesting notion. He couldn’t say she was wrong, though. 

“It’s definitely gift-giving, too.” he felt her nudge his side and chuckled. “Tell me about your trip, what did I miss while I was busy with the house? Hopefully, Nick didn’t try and pull anything…” he tightened his grip on the wheel just at the thought of that weasel.

Y/N scoffed, “No, but he was annoying. He snores. That wasn’t fun at all… But overall, I did have fun. Even made a new friend!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the new girl. Her name’s Irina. We really hit it off! I’m excited, to tell you the truth… I haven’t really made any real friends since I moved out of my hometown. But she seems like someone I could really be good friends with.”

Harry felt silly for feeling a pang of jealousy at that. He selfishly wanted her all to himself, he wanted to be her friend as much as her lover. He knew she needed her own friends, rationally, but why did this Irina person have to show up now, of all times? Would he need to share Y/N’s free time with this person? …Would tying her to his bedpost be considered a love language? He tried to hide his childish reaction and smiled, “That’s nice, darling. I’m glad.”

He felt weird about it; he’d been a bit preoccupied for the past few days and she’d already made a new friend without him even knowing. He’d really neglected her those last few days of her trip, he realized. He hadn’t been aware, he was so caught up with everything trying to get it all ready for her in such a short amount of time. “...Did you really think I wasn’t going to show up at the airport?”

Y/N lowered her eyes to the pup snoozing in her lap. She would miss the little fellow. “I mean… you were acting really distant. I didn’t know what to believe.”

Harry reached out and grabbed her left hand, squeezing it tight in his own, “I’m sorry. I got caught up. I didn’t realize I was neglecting you because you were on my mind the whole time.”

Y/N smiled looking at how he was holding her hand in his much larger one. She was so glad she’d been mistaken, “You were on my mind too.”

“Yeah?”

She looked up at him, “Yeah.” She didn’t think she’d ever tire of looking at his handsome face. He was just so effortlessly attractive that it made her head spin sometimes.

He brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it before releasing it, “I called the designer, by the way. She’ll get in touch with you so you can set up a meeting with her and go over what you wanna change–”

“Harry! No! Why’d you do that for?!”

“I told you I would, and… wasn’t that what you wanted? To have your own pick of furniture?”

“No! I mean– yes, but not now! I love what you picked, I just wish we could’ve picked together. But it’s done now, and I’m not making any more changes.”

“... Are you sure? It’s perfectly fine with me!”

“I’m sure. It’s the principle of it.”

“I understand that. I can’t undo it, unfortunately… And I did apologize.”

“I know. It’s behind us now, alright? Let’s not bring it up again. I promise I like what you picked. Besides… I’m not planning on spending that much time at my place, anyway.”

Harry grinned and looked over at her, “I like the sound of that.”

“Mhm, I had a feeling you would.”

After a beat, he cleared his throat, “What about the house? Do you like how I decorated it?”

“Yes, I told you, Harry. It’s amazing. You’ve got great taste. It’s easy to go wrong with such a big space but you managed to make it feel cozy, too. I really like it.”

“Ideally, I would have wanted you to help me decorate. Or even choose the house. But I also wanted it to be a surprise… Now I’m not so sure I made the right decision. Should’ve waited for you to get back first.”

Y/N was taken aback. “Wow, Harry… that’s… a lot. I appreciate it. But it’s your home, after all. It’s your decision.”

“Pretty ironic, isn’t it? I got to redecorate yours and you don’t get any say in mine?” He sighed heavily, ”I don’t know how this was lost on me… “

Y/N could tell Harry really was beating himself up about it. She felt bad for reacting the way she had back when he took her to see her apartment earlier that day, but it was too late now. She didn’t want him to feel this guilty over it, but she was happy that she’d gotten her point across and made him see it was important to her that he didn’t overstep and threaten her independent nature. 

She wanted to find a way to put him at ease but a wave of nausea hit her out of nowhere. She tensed up and gripped the door handle to her right, and even Eddie perked up, feeling something wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice immediately changed from soft and comforting to its usual cool tone.

“Can you pull over? I’m… oh, god–”

Harry pulled over immediately and Eddie scurried off her lap as she threw the passenger door open and swiftly climbed out of the car.

Harry got to her just in time to hold her hair back as she began throwing up on the side of the road. She tried pushing him away but he wouldn’t budge. She could fight him all he wanted on this, he wasn’t going to just sit back and watch her be sick and not do what he could to try and help her.

Harry wondered what had prompted it. They did take a break from their late-night activities to eat the meal he’d cooked for her in his new lavish kitchen. He’d fed Niall from the same meal before she got there. And it seemed perfectly fine to Harry. But then again, Niall and himself were a lot less prone to falling sick. In fact, it would take a whole lot for their kind to feel any kind of discomfort in general. What they’d had for breakfast was perfectly fine too… He racked his brain trying to figure out what could’ve possibly made her sick. 

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grimaced, “Oh god, I hate that you saw that.”

Harry furrowed his brows, “Don’t be silly… what’s wrong, is it car sickness, do you think?”

“Ugh. No. It’s that damn pill.” she sighed heavily. Unfortunately, she’d been down that road before once when the condom broke and she had to resort to emergency contraceptives, and she’d ended up throwing up, just the same. But this time, it hit her out of the blue. She had felt some cramping and mild discomfort, but she’d ignored it for the most part.

“...Pill?”

Y/N stammered a bit, “Yeah… the morning-after pill. I went and bought one and took it while you were gone. I’m not on birth control. I’m sorry- we should’ve discussed this last night… There just wasn’t any time, I got carried away…”

“Hey, hey…” he pulled her into his arms, “What are you apologizing for? I didn’t do anything about it, either. And now you’re feeling sick because of that. I’m the one who should apologize.”

Harry’s mind was going a hundred miles a minute trying to remember what all Niall had told him about contraception. After he’d hinted at Harry possibly getting lucky, he proceeded to lecture him about the human notion of safe sex. He told him that if Harry was lucky, she’d already be on birth control. If not, he’d have to use a condom. When Harry argued that they didn’t need protection since he couldn’t actually get her pregnant, Niall laughed and told him that although that was correct- Y/N had no way of knowing this. And this was just to rule out an unwanted pregnancy, but humans also had to worry about sexually transmitted diseases. A foreign concept to their own kind, as, again, their immune systems were almost infallible. That’s how they were built. Not to mention that the same way he couldn’t impregnate her, he couldn’t pass on anything else to her, even hypothetically. 

And after Niall had left, he proceeded to google about it further. Should he have to wear a condom to put her at ease, he needed to know how to go about it. And while he was reading about it, he came across the morning-after pill as well. He recalled it was a way to avoid an unwanted pregnancy and that it was only meant to be used on extremely rare occasions, but he wasn’t aware it’d cause the woman to be sick. Not to mention she hadn’t mentioned it to him, and it was all taking him by surprise.

He’d even bought condoms and tried putting one on before she came back. He made sure to get the largest size but Harry all but ripped it off of himself when he tried putting it on. So when she didn’t mention it, he kind of assumed he might have lucked out as per Niall’s earlier lecture and be on birth control.

Knowing he was going to brave the condoms going further was worrying him somewhat. He needed to buy some more to test out. The last thing he wanted was for her to catch on that he’d never really used one before. But if human men could do it, he could pull it off too. 

She shook her head, snapping him out of his train of thought, “We were both a bit reckless, I guess. But, for what it’s worth… I’m clean. And if there’s something I should know… now’s the time to speak up?” she grimaced awkwardly and Harry had a bit of difficulty processing what she was hinting at before it clicked for him.

“Clean as a whistle. I wouldn’t have let anything happen and put you at risk like that, you know that, right?”

“Right. I mean, same… but just double-checking. I’ll be switching to birth control, though. Been meaning to for a while now, for other reasons.”

Harry was really lost now, “What reasons?”

“Oh, you know. It helps with other stuff, like severe cramping while on my period, heavy flow… ugh, I can’t believe we’re having this awkward conversation on the side of the road after I’ve just puked right in front of you,” she laughed, covering her face.

Harry wondered if she’d ever get over all these human concepts she was fretting over so much. None of it phased him in the least. Were human men so awful that they were repulsed by normal bodily functions? Probably so. Pussies.

“I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll wear the damn condom if you prefer it.”

“I appreciate that… but after last night? I’m pretty sure I’m willing to risk those side effects.” she grinned slyly.

“... Side effects?” Harry’s eyes widened in worry.

Y/N laughed at how clueless men were in general, but Harry was a cute one at least. “Relax. I told you, it wouldn’t be the only reason I’m going on birth control. Now let’s get going, but first- can you stop at a petrol station? I really need to rinse my mouth and buy a pack of gum.”

Harry helped her back inside and rolled his eyes when Y/N turned her head to the side when he wanted to give her a peck.

Guess she wasn’t going to get over those silly things anytime soon, then.

*

Arriving at Lester’s, Y/N could see a long stretch of fenced land, acre after acre. Some outbuildings, and then a large home came into view when Harry turned in and passed the gate that was opened. The gravel path toward the house was long, the car tires kicking up rocks and dust as he got closer.

Then she saw a large man with dark hair waving on the porch. He quickly descended the few steps to greet them at their car, coming around to Y/N’s side. Harry rolled the window down and shut off the engine as Lester stuck his hand into the window, “I’m Lester, you must be Y/N.”

Harry had told his uncle about the girl. That she was human and that he’d made her his girlfriend. He felt like Lester was someone he could confide in fully and he hadn’t really had anyone to tell about Y/N aside from Niall. He knew he wouldn’t judge him but it was somewhat unusual. His uncle told him not to worry one bit. He was accustomed to interacting with humans (as most of his pack was) and he wasn’t at all deterred by having her around. He ensured the girl would be safe and none the wiser.

The moment Y/N stepped out of the car, Eddie was wiggling to get out of her arms so she put him down and it was like he was a wind-up toy that had been set loose. He shot off and ran around the side of the house until he was out of sight. She began to jog after him but Lester reassured her, “He’s alright. Let him explore. This is his new home and he’s going to need to get used to all of this after all.”

The three of them sat on the porch together and drank lemonade and chatted. It really felt like an old farmhouse with wicker furniture and a glass pitcher of lemonade. There was a windchime that trinkled when enough of a gust would blow through but everything else around them was quiet aside from their own chit-chat.

Y/N noted Harry’s resemblance to his uncle, which she knew to be his mother’s brother. He seemed relaxed. Happy. Even she felt the peace of the place. It was different than the peace she felt in the forest. Here it was as if life could really slow down and just happen. It was beautiful. 

Eventually, Eddie greeted them on the porch, tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his mouth. Lester got him some water and then he led them into the house to show them around. At the back of the house, there was a large metal barn and a tractor. It seemed like an ideal place for a pup to run. 

Lester showed them to the hallway where the bedrooms were, pointed out the bathroom, and then pushed open a door to a bedroom, “You two will stay here in Harry’s old room, that is if you were intending on staying in the same room?”

“Yes, we’ll take the room together. Thanks, Les,” Harry spoke as he gently touched Y/N’s low back. 

After Y/N expressed her disappointment in the lack of Playboy posters and other incriminating evidence of Harry’s teenage years, they got back downstairs as dinner was served by Alma. A delicious roast chicken with potatoes and a fresh garden salad that she seemed proud to have picked just that morning. Y/N loved every bite of everything she ate. She wondered to herself if Harry adopted his skill for cooking from his aunt. It would make sense since he spent the majority of his adolescence here with them. 

Once the dishes were clean and put away, the four of them, with Eddie trotting ahead, went toward the barn where Lester kept tools and supplies for the farm. 

“Oh, are there no animals on this farm?” Y/N asked looking around the barn at the shelves and open stalls that were empty.

Harry and Lester made quick eye contact, “No animals for us. We’ve got lots of crops, though,” The man seemed proud of his farm, “In fact tomorrow afternoon I’ll take Eddie with me to the rest of the land where we can let him run and explore near the alfalfa fields and meet the other farmers at the other side of the plot. They’ve got some, uh… pups that he can run with. I bet he’s going to love all of this once he gets used to it.

They walked around a bit for a bit of a post-dinner exercise as Lester continued to show them, well, her, around. Y/N felt truly at ease with everything. The farm was perfect and Lester and Alma were absolutely amazing. She was already imagining her and Harry visiting again for a weekend away and to see Eddie. She would never have pictured a more ideal place for him. 

Turning in to their room for the night, Harry took note of how relaxed and even happy Y/N looked. She truly hadn’t sensed anything amiss, and he had his uncle and his pack to thank for it.

Harry was relieved that everything had gone so smoothly with Edward, and how he seemed to have integrated so easily into what would now be his new home. But most of all he felt good to be back to what was essentially his home for a large part of his life. After his parents had passed when he was just 9 years old, he came to live with his uncle until he came of age and moved with his original pack, of which his brother had turned leader of. 

But he’d always missed this place. He felt like a traitor to have always preferred his uncle’s pack to his own, but there was just no comparison. He never dared speak it out loud to anyone, not even his uncle, let alone his brother while he was alive.

He couldn’t help but think that here, with this pack… maybe he could tell Y/N the truth and their lives would be completely different. He wouldn't need to give up this part of himself like he'd been doing for her sake.

Because he now knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that when they got back home he needed to start putting wheels into motion and step back from his pack. 

He was going to renounce his title as alpha leader and go on his own way, as a lone wolf, the same way Niall had.

But with this pack, here… maybe he wouldn’t have to. 

The capital rule of never disclosing the secret of their existence to humans was common for every pack. It was to ensure the continuity of their species, and it was universally applicable amongst his kind. But he knew that here, he could make it so that the pack members would make an exception for her. For him. They loved him here, and so did he, and they were family. They would understand what predicament he found himself in and would allow this one exception. Because he trusted Y/N to not tell a living soul about them. And they, in turn, would trust his trust in her.

That, of course, if she would still want him once she learned the truth about him. Once she knew what he was, saw him in his wolf form even… something he couldn’t even dare imagine. In his mind, she could never want him after discovering what he was.

…But what if she did?

Harry couldn’t stop from fantasizing about this perfect scenario. That would solve all his problems. All his guilt he felt, having to lie to her about it to keep her safe… He could finally be free of that burden. Free to be himself, his true self.

“You’re very quiet today.” Y/N pointed out as she unpacked some of her stuff from her overnight bag. She’d been the one to do most of the talking on their car ride, too. “Did the drive tire you?”

Harry loved seeing her there, in the house he grew up in. Seeing her surrounded by his kind was surreal. She had no idea how dangerous it was for her to be there, even though she was in no danger at all. Nobody would hurt her. But if they wanted to…

And she was oblivious to it all. She trusted him completely, to bring her with him there, and she had no clue as to what kind of danger she was putting herself in. 

No human had ever spent the night amongst the pack. Sure, their community was much different than the one he ruled over- this one was hiding in plain sight. Living amongst humans, apparently- but in reality, humans only came through there in passing but never lingered more than necessary. Their community was enclosed to only their kind, albeit not in a literal sense, without it being in the least obvious to the human eye that they were different in any way.

But Y/N had been allowed into the alpha leader’s house. She was sleeping over. Everyone in the pack knew and gave their silent agreement. Everyone in the pack saw Harry and her together and didn’t bat an eyelid. Because they trusted Harry. And they could tell, of course, that Y/N was absolutely unaware of the truth of the matter. He knew he’d have their undivided support.

And Lester had brought this up with Harry before- asked him to consider staying with his pack, instead of going back to his own when he turned 18. But Harry felt he owed fealty to his own pack, to his brother, and his father’s legacy. He felt that was the right thing to do, to go back to his own family.

He’d been wrong.

Harry realized pretty soon that his own pack wasn’t all he’d remembered it to be- and a far cry from the one he’d grown up with. His own were much colder, boorish, and aside from Niall who he made friends with right away, he wasn’t close to anyone other than his immediate family- Harry’s brother and his wife. 

And he could feel it affecting him as well- it made him colder, more incisive, cutthroat, and scheming. He went from a curly-headed adolescent with dimples and a bright smile to a long-haired lanky young man with a perpetual scowl on his face at all times in a matter of months. He called it growing up, maturing, becoming an adult- but he felt robbed of the life he’d had back with his uncle’s pack. He felt alone and built walls around himself to gain respect and instill fear amongst his own.

Up until now.

Harry circled Y/N’s waist from behind and rested his head on her shoulder, hugging her to him. It felt so comforting. He never knew all these small touches could make him feel so good. “No, I’m not tired.” He nibbled at her earlobe a bit and felt her squirm in his hold and her breathy giggle was enough to have him thicken in his trousers for her. “Not yet. Want you in my arms again; can I have you, Y/N?”

Her eyes widened as she turned in his hold, “What, here?! But– your uncle…”

Harry grunted, digging his fingers into her waist, “What about him? We’ll be discreet. I know you like to be loud for me, but you can try to be quiet, right, kitten? Be a good girl for me and hold those pretty moans in this pretty throat of yours?” he lowered his eyes to said body part and then grabbed it abruptly, pulling her in for a kiss that turned heated very rapidly.

Y/N nodded against his lips, “Yes. I will, I’ll be good for you.”

Harry could purr at how easily she fell into her role with him in the bedroom. It was like second nature for her to turn to putty in his hands, and it made him absolutely feral for her.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he cooed, pecking at her lips and parting from her, “Let’s practice first, hm? I’ll give you something to muffle those moans and whimpers. Go on, get on your knees and take me into your mouth and let’s see how well you can keep quiet. If you do a good job I’ll give you a treat, hm? How’s that sound?”

Y/N hadn’t expected the sudden shift in his demeanor and it made her wet her panties immediately. She could feel herself gush at his words and her skin was tingling, aching to put her hands on him and feel him close again. She shakily lowered to her knees and slid her hands up his skinny jeans, feeling his thighs strong and muscular beneath them, and then palmed over his very visible erection. Harry unbuttoned his shirt as he watched, parting it to grant her proper access to his crotch, and then discarded it as she began unbuttoning his fly. 

Seeing her on her knees for him was making him breathe heavily in anticipation. He could smell her arousal and the notion that the prospect of sucking him off was turning her on so much was reinforcing just how perfectly made for each other they were. His pleasure gave her pleasure and vice versa. 

When she finally wrapped her plump lips around him he rolled his eyes to the back of his skull and hung his head back in relief. “Ffffuck…” he hissed, and she in turn moaned at his reaction.

He immediately snapped his eyes back on her and gathered her hair into his fist, pulling tightly, and her off of him with a loud pop, “What did I say, Y/N? Quiet. You want this?” he grabbed himself and tapped his crown over her lips, watching as she stuck her tongue out for him. His eyes hooded with lust at the sight, she was a dirty little thing. How could he deny her?

But Y/N didn’t know she was in someone else’s house that, although rooms away, had a very acute sense of hearing. Her tiniest whimpers could be heard if his uncle wasn’t asleep- and even so, as an alpha, he’d be on high alert even in his slumber. He didn’t want to be disrespectful, even though he knew his uncle wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Sex was not a taboo subject amongst his kind as it tended to be for humans. But he just didn’t want to share any bit of what he did with Y/N with anyone. Her lewd moans were for his ears and his ears only. He didn’t want anyone else hearing them.

Y/N batted her eyelids innocently and nodded, the movement of her head ensuring his tip dragged up and down her tongue and Harry gripped her hair even tighter before releasing it, making her slide down on him and she gurgled as he hit the back of her throat “Then show me how much.”

She pulled back, a long string of saliva connecting them as she tried regaining her composure. She nodded obediently and got back to work, licking him thoroughly before sticking him back into her mouth. Harry thumbed at her jaw, coaxing her muscle to relax and take more of him in, slowly but steadily. He kept whispering his praises to her along the way, reminding her what a good girl she was, how good it felt, and how proud he was for how quiet she was keeping.

He found it hard to keep silent, too. Harry was quite vocal in bed, and he loved expressing himself freely and uninhibitedly. But there was just something so hot about this, also. When she started tugging at his scrotum he bit his lower lip trying to keep his grunts to a minimum “You’re going to make me cum, kitten. Gonna swallow me down?”

Y/N nodded the best she could with a full mouth, she’d attempted getting him down her throat a few times and her vision was blurred with tears, but she tried blinking her eyes clear to look at him as she did so. 

“Should that be your treat, then? Or do you need something else?”

Y/N squeezed her thighs together at that. She hoped he’d take care of her too, she was a dripping mess. She whimpered as softly as possible which made Harry smirk mischievously. “Such a needy little thing. But we didn’t get condoms. So I’ll just have you ride my face for tonight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes back at the sound of that and increased her movements over his shaft. Harry gripped her hair in his hand again and watched Y/N work him with all she was worth. She was just perfect, she felt amazing and was doing such a good job listening to him. He wanted to prolong this for as long as he could for his own selfish enjoyment, he loved seeing her on her knees struggling to take him down her throat and shedding tears at the intrusion. He was just too big for her slender human throat, but he enjoyed watching her try and overcome her physical limitations, it stroked something in him he never knew he needed. But he couldn’t hold back any longer, the urge to fill her mouth to the brim with his warm come was too strong. His first load was always the heaviest and, sure enough, she was choking on it soon after he reached his climax. He watched as she tried to swallow around him multiple times, but his come was spilling down the corners of her mouth and she was helpless to try and stop it from going to waste. 

Harry shuddered as he watched the sight below him transfixed. “Gooood girl, Y/N, good fucking girl. Get up here. Wanna bury my tongue into that pussy immediately.”

But Y/N had a different idea. She stood up and brought him down to her level to kiss him. She loved how he enjoyed it thoroughly, other guys she’d dated would’ve refrained from kissing her right after they’d come in her mouth- but not Harry. If anything, he moaned into her mouth, finding it just as hot as she did. And she knew he would, after the way he’d lapped up their mixed juices out of her cunt the previous night and even gave her a taste. “I love the sound of that, but… Would it be too greedy of me to ask for your cock, too? Please?” she whispered against his mouth, looking straight into his eyes as she did so.

Oh, the girl was a brave little thing. He loved it. Made him smirk against her lips before she even finished her breathy plea. He knew she was ovulating, and therefore was what he would describe as “in heat”, and wanted nothing more but to comfort her and satiate her needs, but unfortunately, that also meant she was at the peak of fertility, and he’d just witnessed her be sick on the side of the road because of his recklessness the previous night. He didn’t want to cause her any more suffering, he knew she’d worry if they had sex again, so as much as it pained him, especially knowing she had no actual reason to worry, he had to turn her down. Which went against every fiber of his being. It was wrong, it was the very opposite of what he should be doing. But what could he do…

“You know I’d love nothing more, Y/N, but–”

“I have condoms in my purse. Bought some when I went to get the pill,” she then lowered her eyes to his chest and played with his sparse hair there as she murmured, “I’ll even put it on for you while I sit on your face?... Please?”

Harry’s mouth fell agape. How could he say no to that? He spun her around and swatted her bum, and she reached for her purse, fumbling to find the foil packets she’d thrown in there.

By the time she turned back around Harry had already discarded his pants all the way, and grabbed her, undressing her with urgency. She let him manhandle her, she loved it when he got like this. He climbed on the bed and pulled her atop of him, twisting and turning her in his arms as if she was weightless, and immediately latched his mouth to her dripping core. She was momentarily frozen, taking it all in, he’d got them into position in record time, faster than she could make sense of it. He lapped at her frantically, spreading her open for him, and stuck his tongue as deep inside of her as it would go, making her slump against his body and let out a louder moan than she’d intended.

He immediately slapped her bum, harshly, enough for her to cry out but then he reached for her hair and gritted through his teeth, “What did I say, Y/N? Hm? Bad girl. Want me to stop?”

She tried not to cry out at the sting of both her sore ass and her hair being tugged at harshly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s just… so good…” she whimpered quietly and Harry let go of her hair at that.

“Don’t let me remind you again. Now get to work like you promised.”

Y/N steadied herself on her knees as Harry resumed his assault on her pussy, and tried to focus on the task at hand. She was looking at his erection as though it’d never gone down. She wrapped her hand around him and sure enough, he was hard as steel- he didn’t need any help there. She just needed to get the condom on him and they were good to go. 

If she could just coordinate her movements, that is- he was eating her out so good that she couldn’t focus. She also had to keep in mind to stay quiet, and it was proving so hard. She figured the faster she got him ready, the faster he could fuck her and hopefully he’ll help her with that. Maybe he’d kiss her or better yet- choke her.

The prospect alone made her hurry up. She took the condom out of the foil and carefully began unrolling it onto Harry. She’d done it before, but he was so girthy that she really had to work it down him. She’d bought the biggest size, too, but it looked like it was strangling him.

She could hear, or rather feel his muffled moans against her core though, and she realized he was enjoying it. Of course he would, though, she knew by now Harry enjoyed a bit of pain mixed in with pleasure. Much like herself.

When she finally got it all the way down to his base, she secured it in place fisting over it a few times, and then stopped to enjoy his mouth on her for a bit longer. She ground herself against him a bit and felt him dig his fingertips into her ass that he’d been holding tightly all throughout and then wiggled a bit to catch his attention, “Ready. Please fuck me, now.”

Harry felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. Everything the girl did and said to him felt amazing, he couldn’t wait to get her back to his new house and fuck her against every surface. Hear her loud moans echo through the vastity of the house. But for now, he quite enjoyed this little game, trying to keep quiet and failing for the most part. He secretly loved having to punish her a bit, and he knew she did too. He could read her body cues like the back of his hand, but even to the untrained eye, she was visibly into it. She liked it rough, the dirty little thing.

He lapped at her juicy core a few more times before flipping them over, watching her giggle quietly at the way he was throwing her around. He noticed she enjoyed that. She’d likely never been with someone as strong as he was, and he was holding back even, as to not freak her out with his inhuman strength.

He hadn’t properly prepped her for him though. The way they’d gone about it the night before was meticulous and ensured for a smooth penetration. But he knew that if he went slow and easy, and kept rubbing at her clit, she’d open up for him. So he got into position and bent to kiss her thoroughly, making a mess of her little face, smearing her juices all over her too, and then focused on dragging his tip through her folds. 

It felt different like this, to be sure. He’d never used a condom and wasn’t sure what to expect. But it didn’t take away from the pleasure the way he thought it would. Maybe it had to do with his heightened sense of touch that he was still able to feel her against him pretty well.

“Here, I’ll do it.” she murmured, taking her hand to her clit, “Want you to use your hands on me. Hold me tight.”

Harry didn’t usually enjoy directives in bed, he very much liked to be in charge. But this was different, and he liked the idea of having both hands free to roam all over her, not just her clit. He fondled her breasts and mouthed at them while shallowly thrusting inside her, and she used her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp languidly. Harry found it most difficult holding his purring in check. He wished he could do that in her hold, and he knew she’d enjoy it too. But he focused on what he could do and increased his cadence somewhat.

She didn’t need any more lubrication, he could feel her wetting his thighs but still, he sat back on his haunches and watched as he pumped into her halfway through. He slowly spat right over where her fingers were rubbing her pussy and Y/N’s mouth fell agape at the lewd action. She increased her speed over her clit and he felt her begin to tremble when he knew he’d started bumping against her sweet spot inside.

“That’s it. Come for me and I’ll slide all the way in, kitten, give you all of me. Go on, let go for me.” he gritted through his teeth, trying to reign it in. It was taking all of his restraint not to push all the way in yet. He watched her dainty fingers rub at her button frantically as he dragged his tip against her g-spot again and again and then she finally came, thrashing violently under him,

He could feel her contract around him and he took advantage of it, pushing inside deeper and deeper until by the time she was coming down from her high he was fully sheathed inside of her. 

“So full.” she whimpered quietly, “So good… God, Harry.”

He lowered over her, supporting his weight on his elbows, caging her lithe frame in between them, “Wanna go slow this time around. Is that alright?”

She nodded, holding her breath as he began moving inside of her again. 

“I’ll fuck you hard when we get back home, don’t you worry,” he squeezed her throat for emphasis once, before releasing it and turning her head by her jaw to the side so he could lick and suck at her pulse point to his heart’s content.

“I love it any way you give it to me, Harry. No one’s ever made me feel so good.”

He smirked against her neck, nosing at it between nibbles, “Yeah? Love my cock, sweetheart?”

I love you- was what she almost blurted out. She even stammered, trying to refrain from saying it. She didn’t know what had come over her, but she felt it, felt it deep in her bones. Harry picked up the speed slightly and began grinding his public bone against hers with every thrust, and suddenly the feeling was overwhelming. 

She didn’t know whether it was because of what was at the tip of her tongue or how good it felt, or both, but she felt her throat close in and she gasped for air before tears began welling up in her eyes. She tried to fight them, but they flooded her vision and started tumbling down to the sides of her face as her breathing got more and more labored.

Harry first tasted her tears against his tongue as he was kissing under her jawline before he saw them. He pulled back a bit, taking the sight in, “Y/N, what’s the matter? Am I hurting you?” he slowed his movements abruptly but she circled her legs around his waist, urging him to keep going.

“No, not at all. Feels amazing. You feel amazing. Please, don’t stop.”

He caressed her face, thrusting slowly into her while he inspected her face tenderly, “Why are you crying, sweetheart?”

“I just– it’s overwhelming. I feel so much. Keep going, baby.”

Harry’s heart began galloping at the sound of the pet name. Baby. No one had ever called him that. He never even knew how much he’d love hearing it murmured out of her sweet mouth.

He kissed her then, picking up the pace and giving it his all. He could still feel her hot tears mingling into their kiss. She was so fragile, so sensitive and loving, and she was all his. He wished he could show her how he really felt about her, how much he felt too.

She gasped against his mouth and tried to muffle her cries of pleasure, kissing him with abandon as she came again. And Harry finally allowed himself to finish too, basking in the feel of her pulsing around him in time with his own release. He would miss the feeling of filling her up and pumping his come back inside of her, but he knew the condom was just temporary.

Because she said she’d be going on birth control when they got back home.

Either that- or he’d man up and tell her the truth of it. Being here made him hopeful about the possibility of coming clean. And in the moment, he felt like she wouldn’t run from him. He felt like she belonged there, with him, with his kind. He knew he’d probably sober up the following morning, but for now, he allowed himself to fall asleep with her in his arms pretending it had already happened- he’d told her the truth, and not only did she not run from him, but she wanted to live there with him, amongst his kind, and embraced who he truly was, fully. 

Baby.

*

Harry slowly woke up when he felt Y/N moving in his arms. He loved waking up with her next to his chest, her scent covering him. He wanted to have sex with her again, eat her out even but he knew they needed to get going. It was a long day ahead, they had to head back home in time for Y/N’s afternoon shift at the station, and Harry knew that they’d have plenty of time to explore one another the way he wanted.

While Y/N was taking a shower Harry sat with his uncle on the front porch as they drank their morning coffee.

“You made the right decision bringing Edward here, son. He’s going to thrive here, just you wait. You did your best, but there’s no reason a young alpha like you should babysit that little firecracker. Besides, you’re absolutely right. He needs kids his age to play around, coax him out of his wolf.”

Harry had a faraway look in his eyes. His uncle could tell there was more to his visit than just the little one, but he wouldn’t prod if Harry didn’t feel like opening up about it to him. 

“I feel like I’ve failed him. Failed my brother. And I’m about to fail my pack as well…”

“You didn’t fail anyone. You did your best under the dire circumstances that you’ve described. What your pack is doing is unfair to the boy. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you were disappointed in them. You should focus on not failing yourself. And that girl you brought here. Hm?”

Harry looked into his uncle’s eyes which the man took as a sign to go on.

“I really like Y/N, Harry. She’s smart and she’s very nice. She loves Edward, too. I can tell you two are a good match. You love her?”

Harry blinked his eyes and watched out over the sprawling grass and the trees at the edge of the property. He knew his answer. He even felt his heart rate increase at the notion of it. But it felt odd to speak it. He was an alpha and taught all his life that speaking such things was weakness. It was quite another to show your possessiveness over your mate, but to say the words…

“You don’t have to say it. It’s clear how you feel. But you do need to be careful. That pack of yours won’t accept this, you know. She’s observant. Keen. She’s not going to be someone you can keep all of this from forever, you know? She will catch on at some point. So, you’ve got a big decision to make.”

Harry lowered his eyes and gave the faintest nod to acknowledge his uncle’s observation. It was hard for him to voice his decision that he’d already made. But soon he’d have to announce it to the council. So he had better find his voice and stand up for what he believed in, as guilty as it made him feel. It was his truth and he needed to honor it.

Lester continued when he noted Harry’s contemplation, “The offer for you to come here still stands. You know that, though. We could use a young alpha such as yourself. I know it was never your desire to be pack leader, so there’s no pressure in that regard. It’s up to you. Many here miss you and would love to just see you around. Alma and I look at you like our own son. If not yourself, then maybe Edward will lead us one day, like he was destined to. Or he could go back to his own pack, like you did.”

“Hopefully he’ll be smarter than I was in that regard,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Lester reached to squeeze his nephew’s shoulder. He didn’t hold any resentment and understood why Harry had felt like he had to go back to his own father’s pack when he turned 18. In fact, he respected him for that decision even though he’d suspected it may not be the best one. “And… if you wanted Y/N with you I’m sure we could make some exceptions,” the man winked at Harry and then left him to his own thoughts and to enjoy the early morning serenity that came with the place.

Harry looked at his uncle as he took his leave and nodded, still deep in thought. He really did miss his old home. The farm. The pack. Just thinking of going back to the preserve in his own pack made his stomach twist and fill with dread. He hated most of them. He knew he needed to make a move. Start removing himself from his community. Renounce his standing and wish for the best. But of course, even with that, his new priority was Y/N. Her safety, her life. He’d do whatever it took to keep her with him. Keep her happy and secure. 

Even if that meant living a lie.

*

Y/N was sad to leave Eddie behind, even though she knew he’d be much, much happier at the farm with Harry’s family. But she missed him in her lap on their way home. Harry placed his hand there in his stead, and she held it with both of hers, playing with his rings as they listened to music rather than talk on the way back.

Harry offered to drive her directly into work, but she wanted to take her own car and stop by her place first to change into her uniform. Harry pouted but she reassured him that she’d be coming back to his when she finished her shift later that night, which made him perk right back up.

Y/N genuinely loved her job, but she couldn’t lie- she could’ve used a few more days off to spend with Harry. Their relationship was still fresh and their newfound intimacy begged for more exploring. But she could wait. She was excited to finally have something to come home to after work.

On the other hand, she’d been looking forward to spending more time with her new friend. They’d arranged so that they would patrol together that day. When she pulled into the station’s parking space, she found out Irina had gone ahead without her and would be waiting for her at the first set of indicators along the trail. Y/N checked the time- she hadn’t been late, but she shrugged and after picking up her rifle and checking she had everything she needed in her backpack, she rushed to join her colleague further up the trail.

After they greeted, Irina told her she’d wanted to get away from Allen, and that’s why she caught a head start. Apparently, he’d talked her ear off all day about his new-found obsession with NFTs. They both laughed it off and proceeded on their patrol together.

Y/N not only liked Irina as a person, in general, but she admired her as a ranger. She was very skillful. She seemed to have an innate way of going about her work as a ranger like she’d been born and raised in the woods. In an effort to get to know her better, Y/N asked the young woman about her childhood, her studies, and training, to which Irina answered and then asked her some of her own questions. Hers were a bit more personal, but Y/N didn’t mind. If anything it was an indicator that the two of them were growing closer, which she was happy about.

“So, saw your boyfriend at the airport waiting for you. He really is all Lindsy was advertising him to be on the work trip, huh? Did he bring flowers? I only saw the scene from afar, I boarded off a bit later on than you did.”

Y/N blushed a bit at that. “Yeah, he did. He’s such a sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting it at all… and he even took care to choose flowers he knows I like. Most of them, wildflowers he handpicked himself.”

Irina’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, really? Is he a wildlife enthusiast such as yourself then?”

“Yeah, he is. That’s one of the things we have in common that brought us closer together. We, uh, we actually met here, in the preserve!”

Irina elbowed her playfully, “Shut up! Did you, really? Was he on one of the organized tours?”

Y/N bit her lower lip. She really shouldn’t disclose the truth about how they’d met but she figured it was harmless if she left out all the details that could possibly get her into trouble. Not that Irina would tell on her, surely. “No, actually– Well, I was on night watch duty, and I stumbled upon him and his… dog, that had run away from him.” Y/N took a short break to process that, realizing that had been awfully uncharacteristic of Eddie to run off like that. He’d never once budged from her own sight, let alone Harry’s, whom he obeyed thoroughly. She cleared her throat, continuing, “Anyway, he didn’t have any proof of ownership over the pup, and I took it into the station, told him to bring something to attest that he was the owner the next day. I even ended up microchipping his dog,” she laughed. “Was very thorough about it, like the dutiful ranger I am. And well, the rest is history, as they say…”

Irina furrowed her brows a bit, “Why didn’t you believe he was the owner?”

“Oh. Well, the little guy looked a bit like a wolf pup. I was making sure Harry wasn’t, you know, stealing wildlife off the preserve.”

“Harry… And, oh! I did overhear Tom and Nick talk about that, actually. They were saying how it looks like a wolf too. Well– obviously, it couldn’t have been a wolf since stealing a cub away from its mother would be pretty impossible.”

Y/N had always known that Eddie probably was, at least in part, wolf. She knew he’d been Harry’s brother’s but she never found out how the man came to be its owner. Also, how long ago did Harry’s brother die? Must’ve been awfully recently since Eddie was still a puppy. She realized she’d never asked Harry about these things before.

“Yeah, obviously.” Y/N parroted, clearing her throat again. This conversation was suddenly making her uncomfortable.

“Nick isn’t a fan of Harry’s, is he? I overheard him complain about him a few times. Even alluded to him having possibly spent the night at the station while you were on night watch before, just before the trip?”

Y/N swallowed uncomfortably, “Hm. Did he, now.”

“So, did he? Sleep over?” Irina elbowed Y/N playfully again.

But Y/N didn’t find it amusing, “No, he didn’t. He came early morning to drive me to the airport himself.”

“Well… Lindsy said he was there when she left work the previous night and he was wearing the exact same outfit the next day… just sayin’!”

Y/N worried her brows. Why were her colleagues all up in her business like this? She didn’t like it, not one bit. She had to be a lot more careful going forward, she didn’t want to be the butt of her coworkers’ jokes behind her back. Or their idle gossip, for that matter.

And the way Irina was prodding at her didn’t sit right with her either. She knew she probably meant well, and it’s what women their age would talk about, but they were also colleagues and for the sake of not getting into trouble, she couldn’t really confide in her the way she wanted to.

The weird part, though, was that she didn’t really want to. Y/N had a weird feeling about it, feeling as though she’d disclosed more about Harry to Irina than she’d originally set out to.

She didn’t know whether this was due to the fact that Y/N was so used to keeping everything to herself, having not had a good friend to confide in years. But she suspected this might have played a part in why she was feeling so weird talking about this to Irina. Maybe she’d learn to open up more, in time, but for now, she decided that her love life would be off limits, and she made a mental note to keep their conversation to more general topics.

“I liked our trip, but I missed this forest. Glad to be back.” Y/N tried steering the conversation in a different direction. “Are you excited to finally be starting? How do you like it so far?- Well, apart from Allen’s nagging.”

“Of course! I couldn’t wait. Although Allen did more than nag me about cryptocurrency, he also deemed it appropriate to lecture me about, quote-unquote, staying safe out there. Apparently, a ranger was found murdered not too long ago?”

“Oh, gosh. That’s really not the way to welcome you to your new job, but, I guess I can see why he thought it would be important you knew about it. Yes- apparently, the ranger I replaced was found killed after he went missing. They organized a search party and found him, but… we don’t have to talk about this today.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. He told me he was barely recognizable, is that so?”

“... Yeah, he might have been attacked by a pack of wolves.”

“Allen said he was poking his nose where he shouldn’t have been. That he was suspecting the wolves were perhaps… not just regular wolves?”

Y/N furrowed her brows. This was the first time she was hearing about this, “How do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Oh, honey,” Irina chuckled sardonically. “You don’t know about the Silver Wolf? The legend behind the name of this preserve?”

Y/N shook her head, she couldn’t say that she did. But she was intrigued now.

“Well, the ranger probably knew about it and chose to believe it to be true. The Silver Wolf wasn’t just any regular wolf. He was said to be as big as a kodiak bear, with silver fur and bright, golden eyes.”

“... Golden eyes?”

“Yes. Well, not just him, but all of his kind. But he was the alpha of the pack and one of the most prolific. He was the one to claim this preserve for their own.”

“Wait. You’re not saying… you mean to say the silver wolf was a–”

“Werewolf. But of course… You really didn’t know?”

Y/N furrowed her brows and shook her head again. Somehow, this conversation felt even more unsettling than the one before. 

*

Harry headed to the preserve to get a few things from his house while Y/N was at work. It was meant to be a quick trip, in and out. He hoped no one stopped him or wanted to chat. Of course, he wouldn’t have been that lucky.

“Well if it isn’t our fearless leader smelling fresh of human pussy.”

Harry heard him just as he was getting out of his car. James. A pack member Harry had no interest in dealing with whatsoever. 

James had been very outspoken against Harry’s appointment as alpha when his brother passed. He petitioned for position as true alpha, one who could defeat the alpha leader in a fight to the death but the committee vehemently declined- James was overconfident and underqualified. Harry could crush him with one arm and puncture his chest with his claws and kill him in seconds, all without even needing to fully shift. It was also James who went before the elders seeking to “do away with Edward for the sake of the community”. Harry was glad when the elders sent him away but he was surprised by how many agreed with him about Edward. He learned many things about his pack when his brother died. And he hated James more than any of them.

Harry stood tall as he closed his car door and glowered at the low-ranking member standing next to his house, ready to shift if needed. James was a loose cannon. He couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t attack him unprovoked in broad daylight. 

James moved toward Harry as a way to show dominance and Harry stalked toward him and stood over his frame, a low growl sounding from his chest, “Your mouth is going to get you killed. I suggest you leave while your life is still intact.”

James backed up and laughed lowly, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you wouldn’t have all your secrets at risk of being exposed.”

Harry felt his pulse increase and the fangs in his mouth ache for use, “Get the fuck out of here before I murder you. No one in the pack would mourn your loss.”

“Or, you could listen to my proposition. It would benefit us both.” 

Harry stomped toward James, his eyes golden and searing into the inferior, weaker male before him. He put his hand around his neck and pushed him into the wall behind his back and lifted the coward upward so his feet were dangling. He would have loved to have killed him and be done with it but he knew if he did that there would be a trial and there were many members who would side with the delusional fool.

And never knowing when enough was enough, James choked out his words, ”If you don’t remove those hands, there’s a high likelihood you’ll never use them again.”

Harry laughed sardonically and squeezed harder, “Shut the fuck up before I rip your throat out,” He growled as he unsheathed his claws, piercing into the skin of James’ neck. “This is your last chance, you fucking worm. The moment your feet hit the ground you better fucking run or all that’ll be left of you will be a stain on the grass.” 

Releasing his claws from James’ neck he fell to the ground, grasping at his bloody throat, and put a hand up in surrender as he leaned into the wall to stand. The moment he made it to the edge of Harry’s yard he turned and dared look Harry in his eyes when he spoke, “Big mistake alpha. Now your precious little human will end up just like the ranger before her.” 

Chapter 10

A/N: (@fkinavocado and @gurugirl here) DISCLAIMER-any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental 😅

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Godly Desires - Part 4

Finished up the Diluc part for now. This chapter is quite short - (I was super tired). Just a simple interlude chapter before we get to the huge Monsdtadt part I. II. III. IV. Warning: This series will contain yandere content and religious themes.

"Sweet Dreams"

-

When you arrived in the room that Diluc had arranged for you, you noticed just how lavish it was. It definitely didn't look like just an ordinary person's room. It was odd, but you loved how luxurious it looked. Upon finally being able to relax, you noticed just how weary your body felt.

Perhaps it was because you've been doing so much all this time, that the idea of a nice, comfy, warm bed was just too difficult to resist. You forced yourself to not just lunge onto the bed, - for fear of damaging it - and climbed inside, and shortly after, your mind began to drift away.

Next thing you knew, you were standing out in a sea of stars, surrounded by a vast nothingness, yet it felt like everything was just in reach. You held your hand out, and imagined an apple, and sure enough, an apple materialized in your hand a moment later.

How is it possible to dream inside a dream? You've never heard of such a thing before. It was weird, this whole situation was weird.

You suddenly thought of your family, and of your friends. When you thought really hard, you found that you could not remember much about them. They were just figures, shadows in your mind. Saying words that you know you've heard before, but felt so... unfamiliar. You tried to remember something in more detail, like school - but there was nothing. You vaguely remember being in school, but you don't remember what classes you had, your classmates - nothing.

It was almost as if your mind was detaching itself from your real life, instead being replaced by memories from your dream. When you thought more about your best friend, you realized that they had changed. You recognized them more now. They were almost certainly a different person than the previous person you had thought about, but this one felt... like there was more of a connection.

You heard your friend talking to you, but couldn't make out the words. She seemed happy about something, staring off into the distance without a care in the world. She sat on top of a green hill, bare feet in the gentle blades of grass. She laughed, and although it was inaudible, you could feel that it was a very soft laugh. She was a very soft person.

Then, she turned to you, and embraced you gently. Her body trembled and shook, as her hands held onto your clothes like they were her lifeline. A few solitary tears fell down her face, but the smile on her face had never once faded. She spoke a few words to you, whispered softly in to your ear. In that moment, you felt an extreme anguish, but even though she knew you could not hear her in that moment, she smiled through her tears. In the next moment, she had disappeared, just as quickly as she had first appeared.

You woke up crying, wiping a few stray tears out of your eyes. Despite that, you felt good. You felt very good actually. You felt like you had the best sleep you have ever had, comfy, and safe, warm...and happy.

When you had finished getting ready, you left your room and sat down in the dining hall, where the maids told you Diluc would be waiting. Sure enough, he took the seat across from you, and smiled. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Oh yes, I slept great. Thank you again for letting me stay here," you smiled. He called for a maid to bring out the breakfast for the two of you, and shortly after the food had arrived.

The two of you ate together, quietly and peacefully, but very much enjoying each other's company. When you finished eating, as he had promised, you prepared to leave, though he did seem regretful that you were leaving. "You are welcome to visit whenever you wish, please have a good trip." The two of you said your goodbyes, and it was finally time to move on. Your next stop was Mondstadt city.

-

Taglist: @justyoureader; @mmeatt; @iamapotatoe; @clavichordcleffa; @yu-ulda; @c3rtifiedsimp; @eravariety: @vianitry; @dulcedelechenginamo; @reveihehe @liansh3ng; @angelofdarkness2; @reveihehe

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Thirty-One

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing’s Wrong with Dale Chapter 31

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5][Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten]  [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four][Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] Part Thirty-One [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You walk back to your ready chambers as quickly as you can without drawing notice, ducking to hide the smile on your face when you pass a couple of servants. You open the doors to your dressing room and almost jump when you recall the number of those waiting anxiously for your return. Steward Bilmont is still there too, collapsed in a chair looking quietly morose while the maids hover in an anxious group near the fireplace. All turn to stare at you when you return. 

You try to pull your expression back to something resembling neutrality as you stride over to your seat in front of your vanity. “All is well,” you say. “There will be no further confusion regarding the wedding.”

“Truly?” Bilmont asks, hope and disbelief in his voice. The maids seem similarly skeptical, but get back to work without a word. Luckily, it looks as though they had been making progress while you were gone—two additional trunks were packed. 

“Yes,” you reply, “there was a misunderstanding.” Which was certainly an understatement, but the most honest explanation you could provide with others present. “It has been straightened out. The wedding is going forward as planned.”

Bilmont threw his hands up. “Thank the light! I didn’t know what—” He cut himself off before he said anything further, merely shaking his head in unarticulated dismay.

You allow him the moment to gather himself, occupying yourself with the lace Miss Adir is laying out for you. However, he continues to linger and so after a look from Mrs Dearden, you turn back to the steward. “I’m sure you have other duties to return to, Steward Bilmont.”

Bilmont meets your eyes, blinking as if suddenly realizing where he is. Hastily he gets to his feet. “Yes, my lady, of course.”

You shake your head in amusement as he hurries out the door before turning back to the mirror and letting your maids finish dressing you. It’s mostly flourishes now, lace cuffs and collar mantle, the jewelry your mother provided. The veil re-purposed from Dale’s mother’s is still carefully arranged on a form, you’ll put that on last.

You still feel somewhat in shock, happy shock, but shock nevertheless. Dale didn’t know you knew what he was, but he does now. He wants to marry you. He’d said you were one of the reasons he stayed here, as Dale. He called you ‘exemplary’. And to think only an hour ago you’d been convinced everything had fallen to pieces. Instead you’re finally, finally, on the same page.

With that reassurance, more of your nerves have melted away, leaving you feeling eager anticipation for the beginning this wedding truly is.

“Are you alright, my lady?” Miss Adir asks tentatively as she helps to make sure the lace insert is sitting correctly over your collarbones. No doubt she must have questions about what happened and what sort of confrontation there might have been, even if she is too professional to ask.

“Hm?” You blink yourself back to the present moment. “Oh yes.” You feel a smile grow on your face, unable to be contained. You can find little reason to try to contain it. “I’m very well indeed.”

-/-

Some of those nerves return as you wait in the small ready room to make your entrance into the main hall of the monsacrin, where the spiritual ceremony will take place prior to the legal one. You’re dreading this one more as it involves the most pageantry and the most people. Certainly all guests will be at the wedding luncheon, but you will not be on display in the same manner. 

Even the buoyancy of your conversation with Dale had lent you is diminishing as you imagine all the ways in which you might make a fool of yourself. Your fears for Dale too are not insubstantial. You had been pushing those concerns to the side because there wasn’t much you could do to help—the wedding had to take place here, but how would the sacred affect him? He’d been fine during the rehearsal and the few common ceremonies you’d attended over the last few weeks, but…

You’d seen a sanctif nearly reveal him, not to mention Grandfather’s holy water attempt. He is certainly capable of being hurt by it. But to what degree? Both Sanctif Ellon and Dr. Louisa proved detection methods could be used successfully upon him, although not perfectly. Especially if he was forewarned and able to prepare as you’d seen with the sanctif. Hopefully, with the ceremony so straightforwardly laid out over the past few days, Dale will have prepared himself. Right?

Of course, he’d called off the wedding. He’d spent at least part of today thinking it wasn’t happening. How long had he been planning that? He’d been acting a bit strangely over the past few days, but ultimately the decision had seemed impulsive to you. He’d seemed as if leaving Northridge was his next move and yet, he’d clearly not been packed beyond for your wedding trip. The box he’d been filling with books and other items in his study had obviously been items he wanted with him, but would have been sent ahead to your next destination and so we’re prepared.

The swell of music, woodwinds and strings, interrupted your thoughts to let you know Dale had likely entered the monsacrin. He’d come from the right to walk to the middle. You’ve heard some merchant and peasant families had those who were to be wed enter at the same time given family status didn’t have the hold it had on the nobility. However, since you were joining the Northridge family, you’d enter second to stand with him instead of the reverse. 

Miss Adir hands you your bouquet as the melody changes. The door in front of you opens, letting in the brilliant morning sunlight. Your practice of the ceremony was all that prevented you from squinting in the face of all that light. Light was the most important aspect of Solennity and monsacrins had as much glass as they could and stay standing. It was traditional for weddings to take place in morning light, to signify new beginnings, and were held in the eastern hall accordingly. Sunlight streamed in, half blinding you as you walked down the left aisle, which cut at a diagonal through the seated guests to the dias against that eastern wall of glass. 

Once your eyes adjust, you keep them focused on the center altar, with its backing of colorful stained glass since its easier to look at, and where Dale waits for you. Gone is the more casual red waistcoat he had on in the study. Instead, the luxurious dark blue velvet that he’d selected nearly a month ago has been turned into a lovely suit. His overcoat is rich and plush, embroidered with detailed gold designs that are similar to those on his waistcoat. His trousers are the same color and disappear into polished black boots. The white of his shirt contrasts well and helps lighten the outfit. Even his hair ribbon is white, holding back his dark hair, except those styled in the front. He looks beautiful.

You try not to think about all the guests staring at you and focus only on Dale, only on being careful not to step on the hem of your dress or drop your flowers. The music swells appropriately until you’re stepping up the single step to where you’ll start the ceremony, next to Dale. 

Now that you’re closer and not so dazzled by the light, you can make out more of his expression. He looks down at you with a sort of proud awe that you admire given he’s already seen your dress and even your hair more than half done only an hour or so ago. Perhaps you haven’t been giving him enough credit for his ability to act. He is right in that no one else, beyond a few servants, knows over his nature. You smile up at him, more in relief and out of nerves than much else, but there’s also some awe, that you’re really here, that he’s really here—that it's all happening.

As the final notes play out, you carefully lean forward to place your bouquet in the vase to your side, the flowers a gift to the monsacrin and so your hands can be free for the rest of the ceremony. 

The sanctif walks up, giving the opening prayer for a wedding. He stands between you on the next step up and his apprentice joins him, her movements as smooth as in rehearsal earlier in the week. She hands the sanctif the ribbon chosen—blue and gold braided together—and he starts the prayer of unity.

“Today we join together these two humble petitioners who seek to unify their lives in marriage,” he proclaims. That is your cue, and Dale’s, and you both remove a glove—your right and his left. The apprentice sanctif takes your gloves while the sanctif continues, “As such endeavors are not to be taken lightly given their grave importance and profound influence on the times ahead, we so bind them.” 

You both reach out and carefully entwine your fingers together in a tight handclasp. The sanctif continues to speak as he winds the braided ribbon around your hands, but you barely hear his words. Instead your focus is on the steadiness of Dale’s hand, the moderate temperature of his skin, the way your arms overlap in order to keep your hands securely together. Your sleeves are short, but his are not. The sensation of the luscious velvet brushing against your skin is lovely. You can’t help but look up to see his eyes—only two at the moment, thank the stars—to find them already fixed upon you.

His gaze seems cautious until yours meets it, at which point his eyes crinkle in their corners to reflect the smile that blooms so naturally. Without thought, you mirror the gesture.

The music swells as the sanctif proclaims and you focus yourself back onto the ceremony itself, so you do not embarrass yourself by being caught unawares. You accept the candle holder from the attendant easily, the gold quickly warming in your hands. It’s simple white taper is unlit. Dale accepts an identical one as the sanctif recalls the story of humanity’s ascent from unintelligent darkness to enlightenment.

He paces the half-circle step, speaking to you and the audience, before he climbs to his place behind the elevated altar. He holds his hands up, supplicating, and begins to recite the marital prompts. “Do you approach this altar of light deliberately and of sound mind, willing and able, to join in sacred commitment to one another?”

“I do,” you chorus with Dale. He’d said with you for balance, he’d not need his cane, and yet the first step up makes you nervous that you’ll both fall, as if you’ve never climbed a set of stairs before.

“You may approach,” the sanctif replies.

You and Dale advance, you careful given your skirts and Dale careful given his balance. You reach the step with little difficulty, feeling almost foolish over how nervous you are, but the reminder of the low level of actual challenge doesn’t help.

“Do you approach this altar of light with honesty, loyalty, and fidelity in your hearts?”

“I do.” Perhaps that vow was what had started Dale on his doubts. The first rehearsal had been the day you returned to Northridge and you’d each gotten pamphlets explaining the ceremony, for all your responses were minimal and repetitive. 

“Do you approach this altar of light for the purpose of commitment, of unity, of harmony?”

“I do.” this is the vow you’re unsure if you would have meant with the original Dale. It would have been hard to reach any sort of harmony with him. You don’t have any such fears with Dale.

“Do you approach this altar of light with full faith in the enduring union you seek to forge, with no intention of end or fragility, with confidence and perseverance?”

“I do.” With your conversation this morning, you have no reservations or worries with your reply here either. Still, the sound of Dale’s deep voice in concert with you helps reassure you of his words, as does the feeling of his now-warm hand in yours, his body next to you. He’s not going anywhere.

You’ve both reached the altar and the sanctif smiles at you reassuringly, before he looks past you to those gathered behind you. His voice goes out to them, imploring, “Do any here know what might prevent this union? Do any here have any reason to disbelieve the proclamations made by those who seek to join together?”

There is a pause after his voice fades out in which you find it immensely hard to breathe, before the collective response comes, “We do not.”

“As your humble delegate, I implore the light to bless these two with the union they seek.” The sanctif turns from the altar to the fire behind him, which every monsacrin has lit at all times. Carefully, he lit the oak rod in his hand from its flames and with that, lit the large candle on the altar. 

The sanctif speaks on the virtues of marriage while he prepares the sacred cup, announcing the virtue of each herb he adds to the holy water held in its vessel above the candle. Truly, the fire was not enough to heat the drink by much, but it was symbolic of using light and heat to purify. You hope that Dale can drink it with ease. You’d taken note of the herbs at the last rehearsal and found most to be either without cause for worry or with little information to rely on. What flexibility there was with the recipe you took advantage of, except for juniper, which had to be included—and the book had specifically recommended that for purification.

“Drink from this holy vessel,” the sanctif says, carefully lifting the overlarge cup, truly more of a bowl, for you. “As is internal, so may be external. Light within, light without.” 

You’d practiced this too. Dale drinks first, as the higher partner so to speak. As he leans down, he’s careful not to drop his candle nor your hand.

Your eyes are intent on his face in what you hope is common attention for your fiance, but he seems no worse for wear. His mild grimace easily attributed to what you know to be the bitter flavor of the drink. Once he straightens, you mirror him, leaning down to take a drink yourself. At least the ceremonial cup closer to you height—the sanctif can only lean so far over the altar with it. Bitter, tart, and herbal, the flavors coat your mouth and the water flows quickly down your throat. You’re grateful to have tasted it before so you don’t cough.

Gentle windwood instruments play at odds with the powerful taste in your mouth. They swell around you as everyone sings a verse of gratitude. The sanctif uses his sprinklers, dunking them in the ceremonial cup now that you had each taken a drink. He hands the bigger one to his apprentice for the group below. With another prayer, he sprinkles holy water over yourself and Dale. Your eyes dart to Dale and notice the way his head is bowed in imitation of piety keeps his face at an angle that lessens the chance of holy water hitting it. He already drank it, but on impulse you turn over your hands, arms only slightly more awkwardly placed, so that your clasped hand is up and his is below.

Dale gives your hand a grateful squeeze as you see a few drops land on the back of your hand. Luckily, the sanctif’s blessing over you does not last long and he carefully puts the vessel away while his apprentice continues with the crowd.

“Blessed and enlightened in our souls, I bid you now to light the symbol of your devotion,” he intones. Dutifully you and Dale light your candles from the larger one simultaneously. 

Now comes the more difficult part: carrying the lit candles back down and turning with your hands still bound. You don’t care if you’re not as elegant as some you’ve seen in the past at the very few weddings you’ve attended. You keep your gaze firmly on your feet and Dale as the sanctif at last bids you to turn to away from the altar. “Do you depart this altar of light with determination to face life's hardships together?”

Your hold on Dale’s hand tightens as you turn your head, nerves and fear lancing through you unbidden by the crowd and the height. Dale takes the extra strain easily, skillfully stepping down and to the side with enough deliberate slowness you are able to follow him and remember your official response. “We do.”

Your voice is shaky, but Dale’s is clear and the sanctif does not ask you to repeat yourself. You’ve heard tell of sanctifs who demanded repetitions or even those who required a sentence response, re-framing the question. You are so very thankful you’re able to follow the simpler pattern.

“Do you depart this altar of light with persistence in the face of afflictions of the body?”

“We do.” You take another step down, allowing the floor of the step above to keep your hemline free of your shoes. At the very first wedding you attended, this was the vow you were convinced no one would be able to pledge to you.

“Do you depart this altar of light with compassion for the tumultuous emotions of the heart?”

Another oath that you would not have believed coming from the original Dale. His compassion was lacking and his tolerance for others emotions was minimal to say the least. This Dale surprises you still with his attention to your comfort and happiness. “We do.”

“Do you depart this altar of light with steadfastness against the complications of the mind?”

You chance a glance straight ahead this time, as you are meant to be doing the entire descent, and regret it. So many people staring at you as you walk down steep steps while holding fire. Whoever designed this wedding ceremony had best ascended far far away. You hastily look back down. “We do.”

“Do you depart this altar of light to serve your community and your kin with the attention duty and obligation require?”

“We do.” You are now back on the proper floor of the hall, lower than where you started on the first step. You’ve never been so grateful to the ground before. Why had it been so much worse than rehearsals?

“Do you, the gathered community, accept these vows made here in the light?”

Perhaps it was the audience, who again need an additional second to respond that makes your knuckles lighten as your grip tightens with anticipation. “We do.”

The stringed instruments join the lighter and quieter wood-winds, a masterful solo that allows you to regain your breath, for all you’d not been exerting yourself physically. You catch Callalily’s eyes in the second row and she smiles encouragingly.

When the music dies down again, the sanctif speaks, “Reward this faith in you with the gift of your abundance and illumination.”

You cross the stone floor to the first line of benches with perfect synchronicity, Dale shortening his long strides to match your own.

You light Grandmother and Grandfather’s candles with Dale. Grandmother’s eyes are misty as she smiles at you with joy. Grandfather’s smile is more tinged with relief when he looks at you both. Soon they turn to light the candles of the ones around them, who will turn to do the same. Once all the candles in the first row of benches are light, you and Dale blow out each other’s candles. 

The music speeds up as the light spreads to everyone’s far smaller candles and soon reaches the cue for everyone who’s candle is lit to kneel. The wave of people kneeling continues until all are knelt, anyone too young to hold a candle pulled down by attentive parents. 

You turn back to the sanctif, who’s descended to be only a step above the main floor. Dale guides your turn and approach until it is your turn to kneel as well, your concentration on how you do so in your more elaborate than usual skirt given your lack of free hands.

The sanctif’s speech on marriage is well-enough, he’d given you an overview earlier in the week, but you can’t focus much on his words. You can’t even ruminate on the marriage you are about to begin, the future that is starting now. You can only focus on Dale. You’d think with him pressed so close you’d grow used to the feeling of his arm, his body, against yours, but you don’t. You only crave to have his arms wrapped firmly around you like they had those two precious times before. To feel his lips against yours for a more satisfying kiss. You hope the light and heat can be blamed for any heat in your cheeks as you try to keep your mind on the present and the ceremony.

Soon enough, the sanctif prompts you to present your candles, the holders careful designed to catch and flow the cooling wax. The sanctif dips his finger into the cooling wax of your candle and Dale’s simultaneously. Then he presses a dot of wax to the back of each of your hands, still bound together. “I now pronounce you wed. You may seal the union with a kiss.”

You turn back to Dale, his eyes lit by more than the many candles and the sunlight streaming through the windows. Luckily, you don’t think anyone else will even notice as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

Don’t go, you can’t help but lament in your mind as you try with your will to keep him close to you. Dale remembers your audience at least. As he straightens, pulling away from you, he lifts your joined hands in to signify the sealed union. It feels more like a victory salute to you. Victory to have gotten here, to have this ceremony complete, to have Dale joined to you. To be together.

After a final blessing with holy water sprinkled over your heads, you carefully get back to your feet. While the rest of the attendees join the instruments in song, they keep their candles lit so that the center aisle you depart down is lit from all sides. 

It’s considered back luck to undo the ribbon until out of the hall. You and Dale depart down the center aisle, hands still bound together.

[Part Thirty-Two]

[chvoswxtch]

Congratulations on 4K Court! 🤎

may I please request an americano (iced if you wish… I wouldn’t complain) with Matty based on “he was chaos, he was revelry, bedroom eyes like a remedy”…. I know you can nail the “But Daddy I Love Him” vibes. ☕️

Thanks pretty baby!

you can't give me a song that has bedroom eyes in it & not expect me to make it slutty

you really can't give me anything matty related & not expect me to make it slutty, honestly

I didn't realize beforehand how perfectly this song fits him, but it absolutely does, so thank you for pointing that out to me & letting me have fun with this ;)

as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy! (minors dni)

blurb below the cut

order for matt with a shot of but daddy i love him

he was chaos, he was revelry / bedroom eyes like a remedy

Matt Murdock was not a perfect boyfriend. Everyone around you seemed to feel the need to voice their reservations, shrouding their unsolicited opinions under the guise of concern. Your parents were weary of you pursuing a stable future with a man that allowed his clients to pay in baked goods. Your “friends” looked on you with pity every time Matt couldn’t accompany you to some party or dinner, incessantly encouraging you to cut your losses and find a more “suitable” partner.

They all claimed they just wanted what was “best” for you, but if they were so blinded by their own undesired judgment that they couldn’t see the genuine happiness in your smile every time his name was mentioned, or the way your eyes lit up like the grand tree in Rockefeller Center at Christmas whenever he entered a room, then they didn’t really know you, and they certainly didn’t know Matt. Not like you did.

Perfection was not what you wanted from Matt, anyway. Sure his dual life as a lawyer by day and vigilante by night was complicated, and oftentimes it came with a storm of chaos, but you two navigated it the way you did everything else: together. 

The only luxury you desired was being his. Matt was the one you wanted. There was no shadow of a doubt in your mind, and every single blood cell in your heart agreed. There was no space for anyone else to occupy your soul, and there never would be. If Matt proposed to you tomorrow with a ring constructed of paper, you’d accept it joyously.

You didn’t give a shit if Matt couldn’t make it to some pretentious dinner party surrounded by a bunch of people that you weren’t even that fond of. The whispered rumors of infidelity and empty condolences aimed at your back didn’t bother you, because you knew better. They didn’t know the true nature of the crimes Matt was really out committing disguised as the Devil, and that little secret made you smirk every time you overheard a tale of your “misfortune”, or your name replaced with “poor thing”.

Oh, if they only knew.

If they could only see you know with your dress unbuttoned, Matt’s greedy hands canvassing every inch of your soft skin, marking your neck up in violet and maroon tattoos of possession. If they could only hear the way he sang hymns of your name, honey dipped praises caressing the lobe of your ear along with his lips, delectable sounds of worship torn from the depth of his chest and echoing around his apartment. If they only knew that Matt couldn’t even make it to his bedroom, that his ravenous and primal desire had him pressing your back up against his front door with your legs woven around his lower back, fucking you lovingly but relentlessly.

They couldn’t feel the passion of his hips colliding into yours repeatedly, his warm tongue savoring the taste of your flesh, his cock reaching a depth within you only he could find that sent you both to the heavens above. They couldn’t hear the sacred vows he cried out to you, loud enough for his God and all of his neighbors down the hall to hear. They couldn’t see that even though his captivating hazel eyes were void of sight, they were fixed in your direction with nothing but pure adoration and devotion.

They would never know how good it felt to be loved by Matt. They would never know that you felt Matt’s love all around you, like the first icy wind of winter through your hair or the first kiss of summer’s sunshine on your cheeks.

No one would ever truly know you, except for Matt.

So if everyone wanted to keep bitching and moaning about how you should “come to your senses”, fuck ‘em.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Bar Daddy

I take immense pride in my bar. In just two years I've founded the classiest tavern in town, but I still like to bartend now and then. I can charm any patron with prompt service, good company, and the finest drinks.

I usually aim to give everyone a high-class experience, but I don't even bother trying to charm the man currently walking in.

He comes around every so often and completely disrupts the sophisticated atmosphere, dressing like a prostitute and loudly commenting on the gentlemen in the room. Needless to say, that gay idiot keeps coming back to drive away my paying customers, and each time I become a more and more short-tempered.

I feel my patience already wearing thin as he creeps over to me. "I told you not to come back here!" I growl under my breath.

"But this is the gayest bar in town," he whines back in return.

"This is the finest bar in town, so get out!"

Just before I explode in anger, this man begins batting his eyes. The gaze beneath those fluttering eyelids is intense. I feel the scowl on my face loosen as my arms fall limp. My whole posture seems to sag, and I can feel his mesmerizing power over me.

"You need to loosen up, mister," I hear him say, "You think this isn't a gay bar? Just look at yourself!"

My head obediently turns and glances in the mirror as he continues to whisper in my ear.

"You're happy to have gay men in here! This bar was founded on your own values, right? Masculinity, homosexuality, and promiscuity."

I suddenly realized he is right.

"Wow, I'm happy you're here, bud," I smile, already hoping I can give him the time of his life in my gay bar.

"Glad to be here, daddy, but don't tell me you've forgotten how you greet all your customers!"

I panic! I have no idea how he thinks I should greet my customers. Normally, I put on a charming smile and ask them what they'd like to drink, but I can already tell that isn't a good enough strategy for this new guy.

"A kiss, big-bear!" he laughs, "A sloppy, aggressive, wet kiss. You need to show your patrons who's in charge here or they'll get out of line."

That makes so much sense. I rush around the bar and grab the twink by the waist, forcing him close enough to plant a long smooch over his mouth. I'm overjoyed to see that my embrace has left him flustered and rock hard.

"What can I get you to drink, son?" I ask.

My voice feels lower. I don't remember being a baritone, and my body feels so much heavier. Maybe I've gained some weight, but it could just be the uniform I have on. Wearing nothing but an apron might just make me look thicker than I am. At least I'm lucky enough to be covered in body hair or else I'd be freezing in here!

"A round of shots for the room, daddy!" he screams gleefully, planting a wicked slap on my bare ass.

The sting on my cheeks makes me angry at first, but after glancing into his eyes I realize I overreacted. I always like it when a customer smacks my ass anyway. Honestly, that and them randomly groping me is the only thing that turns me on anymore.

"Coming right up, boy."

"Good bar daddy," he praises.

I don't know when it happened, but the entire place is redecorated. Gone is the wood panelling and tasteful art, replaced by neon lights and a loud music. All my regular customers have seemed to embrace it, twerking half naked on the dance floor.

A crowd of more gays bursts into the bar, wildly running up to order their drinks. It's the most business I've ever had!

The rest of the night is going to be a whirlwind! A dozen wandering hands immediately find my body among the crowd, tickling my sensitive areas, groping my big muscles, and fondling the package beneath my apron. These boys certainly feel close to their daddy!

The only way I can get them to calm down is by grabbing their shoulders to force my tongue down their throat in a sloppy kiss. I barely have the time to keep up with tending the bar.

I don't mind it though. The constant stimulation is intoxicating, fueling my passion to make my boys happy. Every single one of these men are going to leave my bar happy, drunk, and satisfied! I am their Bar Daddy after all.

[unluckywisher]

L&DS Xavier x MC

Tags: NSFW +18, yandere-ish Xavier, possessive, breaking in, somnophilia (kissing you, jacking off while you sleep), you never realize anything (could be interpreted as dub-con).

Style: No use of y/n, no use of pronouns, no MC description nor gender specifications, second person narration, canon-compliant if you're not a coward.

A/N: This guy is the definition of don't judge a book by its cover.

Summary: A typical night in Xavier's life.

Word count: 1.1k~ (+ bonus at the end)

"See you tomorrow, Xav!" You cheerfully wave goodbye as you enter your apartment.

"Bye," he smiles softly.

Once you're out of view, he takes the elevator to his own apartment. He enters and sighs. Today was an overall good day, you two got assigned a mission together and spent most of the day in each other's company, with no one else around to disturb you in the No-Hunt Zone.

Things got less good when you arrived back at the Hunter's Association to report your defeated Wanderers. There was a guy waiting for you. Apparently you had saved him a week ago and he wanted to thank you, so he brought you a huge bouquet, praising you left and right while he gave it to you.

Xavier did not like this. He stood on the side, watching the whole interaction with a blank expression.

"Aren't they pretty?" You said as you showed them to him once the guy was gone.

"Yes, just like you. You certainly deserve them for doing such a good job," he smiled, pretending to be happy about this.

Now, at his apartment, he knows exactly what he has to do. He changes his clothes into a more inconspicuous outfit, and heads back out, using his Evol to teleport.

Jeremiah jumps slightly as he sees him, but simply greets him, used to being startled by Xavier every now and then.

"What do you need?"

"Make this," he pulls up a picture on his phone of your bouquet, "it has to be exactly like this one."

"I didn't expect you to come to my flower shop... To actually shop for flowers," he says, amused. "Give me a moment."

He grabs Xavier's phone and starts arranging the bouquet. A few minutes later, he returns with it in hand.

"...do I even want to know why you're buying it at such a late hour?"

"No. Bye, Jeremiah."

He teleports back to your building, but not to his apartment. To yours. He has calculated the times and knows that by now, you're fast asleep after a long day of hunting Wanderers.

He sees that the bouquet the guy gave you has been placed in a vase, on your living room's table. He grabs it and replaces it with the one Jeremiah made, careful to make it look the same. The replaced bouquet disintegrates in his hands with a flare of his powers, leaving no trace behind.

Quietly, he walks into your bedroom. You're sleeping peacefully on your side, your face peeking from under the covers with a half-open mouth.

Kneeling on the side of the bed, he whispers, "The only flowers you should have are mine."

No response, only soft breaths.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose to make me jealous," he continues, "but I still want something to make up for it."

He leans close and brushes his lips tentatively against yours, then closes his eyes and kisses you, his tongue slipping inside your parted lips. The kiss, albeit deep, is still extraordinarily gentle, because he doesn't want to wake you up.

There's no sound as he pulls away, examining your face with nothing but adoration. You continue to sleep, now with slightly wet lips.

He stands up and takes a few steps back, making sure that you won't be able to hear what he's about to do next. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants.

His dick is already rock hard as he takes it out, the kiss was enough to arouse him. He wraps his hand around it. His other hand flies up to his mouth to cover any possible noises that might leave it. His eyes never stray from your face as he starts pumping slowly, rubbing his thumb on the tip.

The urge to grab a piece of your clothing and use it as a cum rag overtakes his thoughts, but he knows he can't. Last time, he grabbed one of your shirts, took it back to his apartment to clean it, and the next morning you complained about the shirt going missing. He put it back the following night, of course, but he can't risk any further suspicion, so he pushes the thought out of his mind.

His hand gradually picks up the pace. You look so sweet all snuggled up, oblivious. He imagines what it would be like to give in and pull back the covers, getting on top of you and spreading your legs with his knee. You would look so confused and sleepy, then startled by the interaction, by his presence. He would dig his hips into yours, making you feel how hard he is, earning a gasp from you as he starts to grind through your pajamas.

The hand on his mouth tightens when a moan rumbles up his throat, bringing him back to reality. He's now fucking his fist hard, eyebrows scrunching in pleasure as you remain blissfully unaware.

A breath catches in his throat as he feels himself close to cumming, his eyelids fluttering. He lets go of his mouth for a second to take out a handkerchief and put it around the tip to catch his spill. With a quiet gasp, he releases, biting on his lower lip to keep silent.

He cleans himself with the handkerchief and pockets it for now.

He moves closer to you again and crouches once more, planting another breathy kiss on your lips.

He usually stays the whole night, switching between admiring your beauty and jacking off, only interrupted by the occasional kiss. He considers himself lucky when you fall asleep with an open mouth, but he likes it even more when it's a hot night and you sleep without blankets, wearing only a T-shirt and your underwear. Or when you wear a crop top and it naturally rolls up by your movements, exposing your body to him. If it's cold and you're using thick covers, he'll allow himself to glide his hand across your figure.

He teleports back only when the sun starts to appear through your curtains, your alarm only half an hour away from ringing.

He doesn't get much sleep like this, though.

The next morning, you wake up feeling energized and ready for the day. You eat breakfast and put on your Hunter's Uniform, heading out. Xavier isn't waiting for you, so you sigh with a smile and head to his apartment.

You knock a couple of times until you hear footsteps, and he opens the door bleary eyed. He smiles softly as he sees you.

"You overslept again, huh?" You giggle, taking in his cute morning appearance.

Bonus: A song that just ✨makes sense✨