#this is a perfectly normal way of coping

[killerdykepdf]

[writer-room]

Its so funny that Arin and Sora have shown to have significantly better emotional intelligence than any of the ninja from all of the old seasons combined. "You should be taking care of your mental health" and "yeah saving the world is upsetting! no wonder you're having stress dreams" oh my precious children. You are surrounded by a teen dad with massive self-worth issues, the only one of two people who remembers the genie incident and also turned into the sea once, guy who's died like 3+ times and committed genocide under mind control, and a child soldier who's been living the hard knock life since age 2.

I hope to god you two are prepared to witness the most mentally unwell behavior you've seen in your entire teenage lives. You think you've already seen how bad it can get now? Fools. Just wait until you get a mission involving the Departed Realm

[alexandy99]

Does anyone else post nudes when they’re stressed?

[thethingything]

"I know you keep saying you're doing stuff to help your mental health, and I know you try to track your moods and have a routine and stuff but you really need to try harder to not get so stressed about things" bestie when I say I'm trying to help my mental health, yeah I'm doing that stuff, but I'm also:

using DBT techniques to improve my emotional regulation, which takes a lot of energy because I have to focus on taking a step back and doing that while experiencing strong emotions that make that hard

actively unlearning unhealthy coping mechanisms and trying to replace them with healthier reactions to things, which once again requires catching myself doing stuff while experiencing strong emotions that make it harder to think rationally

working through shit like core beliefs to figure out why I act in certain ways and then challenge those beliefs to slowly fix things from the ground up (have you ever dug into core beliefs? it's a great way to end up sobbing for 2 hours straight while half your life suddenly clicks together and makes sense in a way it never had before)

basically improvising exposure therapy for various triggers because I don't have access to actual therapy so I've gotta DIY this shit if I actually want to get better at handling my triggers

having to work through processing years of trauma, abuse, etc, most of which gets brought up randomly and then I have to deal with it whether I'm in a good place to do that or not

and a whole bunch of other exhausting shit I can't remember off the top of my head because I'm brain foggy and have a migraine right now

and I'm having to do all this on top of repeatedly getting so ill I can't keep up with basic chores and experience the kind of symptoms and pain levels people would normally go to the hospital for on a daily basis and just having to try and carry on as normal anyway because I have no other choice, not to mention all the various stressors piling up in the background that I'm having to process and deal with.

"you need to try harder to not get stressed about things" says the person who won't even begin working on their own deeply unhealthy behaviours that negatively effect everyone around them because "that's a lot of work and I don't want to have to do all that"

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

Just remembered why I never eat. Damn

[memento-morri-writes]

A selection of images that perfectly explain Fallon's response to Problems / people's concern for her.

plus a bonus:

[crystalkleure]

🖋️

A character who, when they see another character enjoying themself/doing something fun/generally having a good time at all, feels an anxious urge to make them Stop That. Not because the chastising character is some bitter jealous fuck who just can't stand it when other people are happy, but because they're traumatized after having been cruelly, violently punished many times by someone else for the crime of Visibly Being Happy.

So their urge to make the other character Stop Being Happy now is actually a misguided attempt to protect them. They're actually frantically trying to help as they hiss awful things like "Stop that, stop that, that's bad [you'll get in trouble]! Oh my god, quiet down! Stop smiling! Right now!! Stop it!! Shut up!!" at the other guy.

It's a product of them being conditioned to associate Clearly Being Happy with Bad Painful Things About To Happen As Punishment For Being Caught Showing Joy. They might even think that Showing/Feeling Joy is like, Morally Bad and makes you a Bad Person, if that was a justification they always heard as to why it was okay for their abuser to hurt them for it.

Some things I can think of off the top of my head that could have conditioned the character to feel and thus behave this way:

Having some type of religious trauma from being taught some horseshit like "We're put on this mortal plane to suffer, to atone for the sins of our ancestors, so enjoying yourself is a sin because you're skirting your punishment," etc.

Spending a lot of time around/being raised by a miserable old abusive fuck who WAS just bitter and jealous every time they saw someone else happy, because they weren't, so they continuously harmed the character for something along the lines of "Rubbing my nose in the fact that you're happy and I'm not"

[paganinpurple]

AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED

Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.

It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:

As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.

If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.

No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).

Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.

There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.

For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.

The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.

Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.

If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.

Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.

Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.

People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.

Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.

Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.

It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.

The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.

I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.

I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.

[eilidh-eternal]

Thinking about tattoo artist Ghost who notices you in the studio quite often. Who recognizes the signs of using tattoos as a thinly veiled coping mechanism and can’t help but think that there’s a… better… way for you to cope. Ways that he can help you with. Things he can teach you that don’t involve needles but would still leave his mark on your skin. 

You need him.

You’ve just finished up your session with Soap, finalizing the payment with him at the front desk, when you feel a looming presence at your back.

Ghost.

“Um… hi?” He’s the only one of them you haven’t sat for. Over the last few months you’d worked your way through nearly the entire staff at the studio, amassing a collection of new pieces like a kid collecting happy meal toys in the summer–often and to the detriment of your bank account.

“You're with me next week.” His tone brooks no argument. “Soap, what do I have open next Saturday?”

“I can’t, I–”

“Ye’re open from two to close.”

“Book her. The full day.”

“What?!”

“Got somethin’ special drawn up that I’ve been holdin’ onto. We can make adjustments when you come in. See ya next weekend.“ He saunters back to his station without another word.

Well.

Despite the odd nature of the encounter, you go. ‘Just to see what he’s drawn up,’ you tell yourself. In actuality, you’d had a hell of a week and were itching, chomping at the bit, for the bite of a needle by the time the appointment came around. And damn him it’s good. Really fucking good. Fits your aesthetic perfectly and his suggested placement isn’t far off from where you would have chosen yourself.

Fuck it.

You let him do it. Follow him down the hall to the private room, nod when he tells you to get comfortable and that he just needs to grab one more thing from his station and he’ll be right back.

You’re stripped down to your panties and the oversized hoodie you brought in, big enough to drape and maneuver out of his way while maintaining a bit of modesty, when he comes back.

“You bring water? Somethin’ to eat during breaks?” he asks as he sets a water bottle of his own on the counter. You nod and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Need words, sweetheart.”

“Yes. I did.” 

Not the first time an artist has asked the question, but his insistence on a verbal answer is a curious deviation from your typical experience here. Soap certainly didn’t wait for your answer before he had his arm slung over your ass to ‘steady himself’ while needling a trail of stars down your spine a few weeks ago.

“Alright, let’s get you settled then. Down.’ He presses on your shoulder, pushing you down onto the reclined chair. “We doin it on the left or right?” His hands linger on either side of you, bent at the waist to hover over your frame.

“Uh, you said right would look best… with the other pieces? So um… yeah. The right.”

There’s a flicker behind the richness of his eyes. Something dark and smoky the seeps into the irises.

“Lookit you. Listen real well, don’t ya?” 

What?

He leaves you with mere milliseconds to process. “On your side. Let’s get you stenciled.” His hand trails along your ribs, glides over the bulky fabric of the hoodie and tugs. Pulls at the pocket on the front to get you moving. “Good girl,” he purrs when you comply, shifting onto your left side and folding your arms close to your chest. “Up.” He helps you lift your head and slides a pillow under you. Does the same with your knees, pillow pressed between them to stabilize your hips.

“Thanks…” It comes out in a dazed mumble and he simply hums, as if all of this is… normal.

It isn’t. You know that. Nothing about him says normal.

The mask. His insistence—no, his demand—that you book a session with him. The way his tone brooks no argument or excuse. How some baser instinct tells you to heed his demands. Traitorous fluttering of nerves in your stomach and the heat pooling between your legs.

The black nitrile gloves clinging to his hands like a second skin are cold against your leg. Makes you twitch when long fingers push the hem of your hoodie over your hip and hook underneath the narrow waistband of your thong. “Just moving this up a bit,” he says and pulls it up to your waist, elastic pulling taught against the crease of your thigh and digging into the skin. Pressing against your pulsing core. 

The cleanser is even colder and comes with no warning, but the warmth of him has begun to bleed through his gloves. Melts into your skin as he cleans his canvas and runs a hand over your hip in appraisal.

“Got a little fuzz,” he says more to himself than you, thumb swiping over the fine dusting of hair. The muscles in your back tense in an effort to fight against the shudder threatening to snake down your spine, skin burning beneath the massive hand that lingers on your thigh.

He’s precise about it, removing the hair with slow and even passes of the razor and going back over the area with disinfectant. “Doin’ so good for me, layin’ nice an’ still while I shave ya. Bet ya sit like a champ.”

Your eyes go wide, lips falling open in a silent gasp, and you’re thankful he’s currently bent over your hip and can’t see the shock written plain as day on your face. You blink. Force your brows to lower and snap your mouth shut before you say something stupid like ‘thank you.’

The stencil goes on in silence but you can feel his eyes on you. More precisely, on your face. Curious and observant. You’re so focused on not looking at him that you don’t hear him rise from his stool. Don’t register that he’s moved until he’s leaning over you and curling a finger under your chin to turn your face up towards the ceiling. Towards him.

“There she is. Let’s have a look, yeah?”

Why does he want to look at—?

The stencil. He means the stencil. He wants you to look at the stencil.

“Okay…”

He drops your chin but makes no move to pull away from you as you sit up on your elbows, twisting to get a look at the purple carbon adorning your hip and thigh. You straighten out your leg, move it this way and that, looking for any odd stretching or scrunching.

“It looks good. I like it there. It um… You were right. About it being a good fit.” When you look up at him he’s already staring down at you, eyes trained on your face rather than the stencil with a dark, inky quality to them. Pupils expanding and swallowing up the light in the room.

“Course. Knew I’d be right about ya.”

You blink and it’s gone. No more wisps of smoke swirling in amber coals. The heat in them abated by whatever he sees in you.

You have no idea what he sees in you.

He does, however, give you a reprieve when he straightens and moves to the counter to begin mixing ink while the stencil dries. 

The air around you feels colder when you settle back on your side, sapped of your warmth by small touches and lingering glances. Like he’s purposely stoked a fire in you just to take from and warm himself with.

“Seen you ‘round here a lot. Got quite the collection.” 

It doesn’t sound like a question, and you’re not sure if he’s expecting an answer, but you give him one anyway. Feels… wrong, not to.

“I like the work you guys do.” You’ve sat for all of them. John. Gaz. Soap. And now Ghost. Have their marks inked all over your body.

“That the only thing you like?” The broad expanse of his back is the only thing you can see, but you have a feeling that if you could see the sliver of his face visible behind the mask he’d have that same even stare he always has on the studio floor. 

“Gaz is nice to look at,” you offer, and hear him huff behind you.

“That so?”

“Soap has steady hands. They wander a bit, but his lines are the best I’ve seen. Tit for tat I suppose.”

“And Cap?”

“Who? Oh, you mean John?” 

“The old man ‘imself.” He turns then, arranging the ink on the rolling tray between the two of you, and you catch the dart of his eyes in your direction before they shift back to his station. “He doesn’t normally do the kinda work pretty things like you come looking for.”

“I- um…” He keeps tripping you up. Making you stumble over the words in your head with compliments and praise and firm hands and–

“You like the pain.” Your gaze jerks towards him, tracks his movements as he lowers himself down onto the stool. “Cap’s got a heavy hand,” he clarifies, but it’s too late for excuses. Your reaction only confirms what he already knows.

“That– I don’t… I don’t like it. It just…” His eyes are locked on you, simmering with something in the molten depths of them that reels you in against your will. Compels you to spill secret truths to a stranger. “It makes everything else quiet, for a little while…” You sink your teeth into your lower lip with the admission, eyes slipping away from the intensity burning in his to settle on a fleck in the wood grain of the cabinet.

Silence stretches long and thick between the two of you, the only sound in the room coming from the speakers spilling music out of the ceiling and the little clicks and taps of him preparing the various tips and needles for his machine. The wheels on his chair whine as they roll forward, forcing him into your field of vision once more.

Warmth floods your cheeks, rushes up your neck to your ears in a simmering wave of vulnerability, and you can't look away when he leans down to peer into your face. “There's other ways to make it quiet, ya know.”

You toy with the drawstring of your hood, debating how pathetic you’d look if you pulled it over your face and hid from his probing gaze the rest of this session.

“Stop.” Your fingers freeze. The sternness of his tone has your eyes flicking cautiously back to his, apology ready on your tongue, expecting further reprimand. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” 

Yes.

“That what you need, hm? Someone to make that pretty head take a break for a little while?”

Yes please. You offer him a timid nod.

“What’d I say about that?” he chides, folding his arms over his knees.

Your mouth feels dry, stuffed with cotton, and tongue heavy on its floor. “Sorry.” It comes out scratchy and an octave too high. Too needy. 

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You’re still learning the rules, but we’ll get ya there,” he croons, hand coming up to chuck you under your chin.

“Rules?” 

“Yes sweetheart, rules. You only have two for today. When I ask you a question, I need a verbal answer. Can you do that for me?” His voice carries with authority and his eyes remain fixed on yours, awaiting your acknowledgement.

“Yes.” A touch smoother this time, despite the tightness lingering in your throat.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting a hand over your hair as he straightens and shifts further down towards your hip, pulling his tray along with him. You hear the buzzing of the machine when he begins fine tuning, testing the speed and picking up ink. 

“Your second rule,” he says as he leans forward, big, gloved hand coming to rest on your waist and the other hovering over the stencil, needle poised just above your skin. “If ya need a break, tell me. And–” He gives your waist a firm squeeze. “—squeeze this arm if ya need more. Got it?”

It takes a moment for the full weight of what he’s offering to sink in, for neurons and synapses to catch up with the realization of it.

“Got it.” You watch the mask pull taught over his mouth. He’s smiling.

“So good for me already,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your waist a fraction. “Let’s get started on your ink then, yeah?” 

The first pass of the needle traces a line on the outside of your thigh, a long, curved section, and already you can feel the quiet creeping in amid the bite of broken skin and the buzz of his warm hands pressed against you.

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Magnetic**

Okay I had so much fun writing this one! It's based off of THIS REQUEST where Harry cheats on his gf with Y/N and is basically pussy whipped.

Warnings: mostly remorseless infidelity, solo male masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, daddy kink, slight degradation, pain, size, and cnc kink, non-con creampie, jealous partners, alcohol consumption. I think that's it...?

WC: 14.6k

You were minding your business, shamelessly standing stark naked in Harry’s laundry room, setting the wash for the sheets and pillowcases you two had soiled with your sweat, spit, and cum. You suddenly felt Harry’s presence behind you and moments later he was wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I told you that I’d take care of this later.” He mumbled before kissing your bare shoulder.

“It is later.” You smirked, “You said she’s coming home around 11, no?” You asked him and he nodded, “Well it’s already 10 and we still need to clean up from cooking dinner.” You reminded and he groaned.

“Right…”

“Told you we should’ve just ordered in. Could’ve kicked me out with the garbage.” You joked and he tutted in disapproval and squeezed around you a bit harder. You giggled a bit at his reaction, but it was true…you were the other woman and sometimes you coped with that with a little help from dark humor.

“I thought we agreed you’d stop with the self deprecating stuff.” He reminded you. “Only I can be a little mean t’you.” He smirked devilishly and you rolled your eyes, but nodded.

“I know, I know…sorry.” You giggled as he smooched your shoulder again.

“And you were right. We should’ve ordered in.” He added, “You’re basically always right though, angel.” He admitted and you smiled.

When you thought about how it was that Harry came into your life it felt so normal that the fact you were fucking almost felt strange. You were merely acquaintances and only because your uncle was none other than Rob Stringer. Well, you were related through marriage, but still. You and Harry both just happened to be in attendance at his birthday party one year and after loosening up with a few drinks you two were flirting up a storm in a secluded little nook. Harry was single then and you were finishing up your Master’s degree in Audio Engineering, you both loved music, so that gave you two plenty to talk about. At the end of the night you exchanged numbers and added each other on instagram, but you never really spoke again after that. 

It was a couple years later, at one of his last shows of his world tour that your paths crossed again. You all had a little “party” at the hotel afterwards and you overheard one of his friends say that he was talking to someone and that she’d be coming for his final show along with more of his friends and family. So you sort of kept your distance because you couldn’t trust yourself with not flirting with him. But all throughout the night you’d make eye contact across the room or just narrowly miss each other as you rotated around the little cliques of people. His intense energy made you feel quite wired, so even when the final people trickled out of the rooftop patio area that had been reserved for the little cocktail party, you found yourself sitting at the pool on the far end of the rooftop, legs dangling in the perfectly cool water. Harry was heading back to his room when he spotted you across the way through the chaises and tables surrounding the pool.

He’d greeted you with a cool “Hey, stranger!”, when he entered the pool area. That greeting was something you thought you’d hate until it was coming from him. He was clearly on a good one, as were you, and you guys just talked for an hour until you both realized it was past 3am. The ride down in the elevator was charged with tension and a comfortable silence, both of you were just enjoying the intense vibe that was encompassing you for however long this ride lasted. When the elevator stopped and opened up on his floor you were prepared to say goodnight but he just extended his hand out towards you. It was an unspoken invitation. You recall asking him “Aren’t you dating someone?” And he just smirked and said “not technically” and well that was enough for you to let him guide you to his suite and the rest was history.

You’d always thought sexual chemistry was a myth until you and Harry fucked. You had the things that scratched his itch and vice versa. It truly was supposed to be a one time thing but then you saw each other again after a bit more time and did it again. Harry was consumed by guilt after the first time, he felt ill and disgusted with himself. But when you two saw each other again you slept together again. And then again. And now it had happened once more.

You weren’t hooking up regularly, so it wasn’t a full fledged affair, it was more of a sporadic thing. The point was that now he had a girlfriend of almost a year now and you really needed to not do this again. You wanted to say you felt guilty for it all the time, but in all truth the guilt had diminished, especially when you were together. That’s how good it was. However, that didn’t mean what you were doing wasn’t wrong.

“So when I tell you that this can’t happen again you know that I mean it, right?” You asked as you closed the lid and then turned towards him. His eyes met your own with a solemn look as he nodded.

“I know…this was a slip up.” He said, there was a little guilt in his eyes, you could see it pulling him away from the present and into his head. 

It truly had been this time. He had gone to a football match with your uncle the day before and you just happened to be over at his for dinner with your aunt and mum when they came back. You’d gone your separate ways but he then texted you to see if you wanted to catch up and have dinner together the next day, well, today now. And you had agreed, but one thing led to another, like the time before and here you were. 

“Isn’t that what you said last time?” You asked with a smirk.

“Hey, how was I supposed to know you worked out at that studio?”

“Instagram.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.

“Okay, I just…I just wanted to see you that time. I didn’t intend for it to turn into sex.”

“Liar.” You whispered smugly before tiptoeing and kissing his lips gently and he chuckled.

“I mean, I fantasized about it, but I didn’t intend to follow through with it.” He defended himself and you just giggled before your lips melted together. It was so easy to get lost when you kissed each other. Feeling his big, warm hands feeling out your curves and squeezing at your butt, it made you melt. And well, he was getting hard all over again and you giggled into your kiss.

“One more before you go?” He asked you and you shook your head. 

“Why don’t you channel all this towards your girl instead when she gets home.” You suggested before pecking his lips quickly and pulling away from him. 

Harry felt confused when you said things like this to him. He wondered if you said it to make him feel guilty or were just being sincere about him focusing on her instead of you. So he followed after you until he was back in his bedroom and you were pulling your clothes on.

“Are you upset?” He asked you and you turned towards him as you fastened your bra on.

“No, H. I didn’t mean that in a bad way, sorry.” You assured as he grabbed your shirt from the floor and handed it to you. “Thanks.” You hummed.

“Welcome.” He mumbled.

“I just meant like…” you sighed, “M-maybe if you’re not…satisfied with how your sex life is with her, then-”

“Let’s not, alright?” He cut you off sternly, his eyes wild with frustration.

You just rolled lips together and nodded, “You’re right. Sorry.” You apologized immediately as you looked away with a little bit of embarrassment. You could sense that the mood completely shifted between you two so you hurriedly got dressed in silence. Harry had just thrown on his sweats.

“Ready?” He asked as soon as you’d buttoned your jeans.

“I can show myself out, H. Just finish cleaning up.” You assured him.

“What’re a few minutes worth at this point?”

“At least a shower.” You responded and he smiled a bit.

“See. Always right.” He acknowledged as he took your hand and squeezed it a bit in his.

“I’m not answering next time, Harry. That’s a promise.” You said seriously. You needed to put your foot down. It was bad enough that you didn’t feel bad about it, so you really needed to stop. “So don’t even call, okay?” You requested and he nodded once before he let you go.

Harry stood there until he heard the front door open and close and he smiled to himself because he was already itching to call you again. He didn’t let himself feel too guilty about this because he knew that he was going to stop, when? Well, he certainly believed the second time was the last time, but now it had happened a couple more times and he wouldn’t mind not stopping. There was just something about the way you two fit together that made him want to keep going back. Even after the first time he’d had you, when you were both drunk and giggling and mucking about, the second he sunk inside of you his brain chemistry changed. He’d never moaned so much while fucking someone. And then when you rode him…

“Fuck…” he mumbled as his cock started growing hard so fast. 

He slightly brought down his sweats and pulled his cock out as he sat on the bed. Harry’s eyes closed as he as he started to stroke his cock up and down at a steady pace, not wasting any time to tease or delay his orgasm in any way. His jaw tensed a bit as he clenched his teeth together and hissed in a breath as he rubbed at his frenulum the way you had done earlier with your tongue. 

He absolutely loved your company, the chemistry was just there. He’d never been with someone who made themselves right at home so easily. And not in an imposing way, you did it in a way that reminded him of when a friend you haven’t seen in ages pops in for a long visit and they just slowly start to worm their way further in. You zapped him with an excitement that was reminiscent of the time when he fell in love for the first time. Where you’ve got these blinders on and that person can do absolutely no wrong in your eyes. You only see all of the wonderful things about them you glorify them to an extent. You were a living fantasy. 

“Shit, need her so bad.” He mumbled as he stroked a bit faster. He visualized the way your breasts bounced in front of him as you rode his cock until he busted for you twice. And here he was again, about to come for you for the third time tonight. He loved the way you praised him when he was about to come for you and he recalled it now. He groaned as he basically heard your voice as if you were right there with him.

“That feels so good, doesn’t it, baby?”

“I’m going to make you come again, aren’t I?” 

“Yes, Harry…Fuck yeah, daddy! Come for me.”

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut as his memories of your soft and sultry voice and tight, dripping little cunt milked the come out of him. He groaned as he felt it start to expand from his core and tickle down his legs and finally reach the tip of his cock. He let out the most lewd moan as he felt is start to erupt from his tip. His hips bucked up into his fist as his warm, milky sperm spurted out against his abs quite intensely a few times before it diminished and soon stopped. He gave himself a gentle squeeze before letting go and sighing in satisfaction. He was obsessed with you, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About when he’d see you next. But you were right, it couldn’t happen again. He was getting in too deep and the longer he let this go on the more painful it would be for everyone involved if it ever came to light. 

*************

You had a short cry in the car on your way home because you were so fucking into Harry but you couldn’t fuck with his life anymore. Never did you think you’d be someone’s side piece, it shocked you! But Harry just understood your mind and body in ways that no one but you knew and it was so amazing to feel so understood. To feel in tune with someone, whether it be in the middle of a sexual experience or just while making conversation. That’s why it had been so hard to stay away. But you meant it this time. You couldn’t continue being his escape of whatever it was that he was missing in his relationship. 

You hadn’t meant to offend him when suggesting he have a conversation about the sexual things in his relationship with his girlfriend. You just wanted him to be able to get what he needed from his relationship, that was the point wasn’t it? You were certain things were just fine in his relationship but when it comes to sex, “just fine” is a mere step up from “not good”. And when you and Harry got together everything flowed so perfectly that he was willing to be unfaithful just to have a taste of that. 

What you two did was fuck really well. There wasn’t really any tenderness in those moments, you two just relished in the ecstasy that came with the lust and pleasure when you two got together. You were into the same things, you could push the limits of what was acceptable with him. It was so rare to find such a good match, but you were determined to stay true to your word because at the end of the day, no matter how good the sex and company were, he had someone else.

After a couple of days you got the courage to block his number. It was a temporary measure in case either of you slipped up in the near future because if he did just the right amount of groveling you’d give in far more easily than you cared to admit.

….TWO MONTHS LATER….

You had been doing really well after distancing yourself from Harry. You weren’t sure how long you’d need before you could see him without your pussy getting all puffy and sticky at the mere sight of him and the sound of his voice. In order to achieve this you’d also stopped frequenting the places where you knew he liked to go, so you hadn’t even seen him this entire time. You were proud of yourself for being able to quit him cold turkey so when one of your friends invited you out to Amante’s, a private club for the rich and famous (precisely the kind of place Harry went to when he wanted to be out of the house but not being lurked by admirers), you quickly disregarded the reluctance that initially arose. The odds of you running into him were quite low and you just needed the night out, especially after the grueling work week you’d had.

You got a bit dressed up, something short of cocktail attire, and then just added some eyeliner to darken up your makeup before rushing out of your town home. You got into your Uber and made your way to the club. Amante’s wasn’t a club to dance, it was more of a social club. There was a main bar with a large sitting room, some billiard, and karaoke rooms, and then a lovely patio area where they had a stove oven to bake fresh pizza’s. That’s usually where your friends hung out, out back and away from the older crowd. You were heading back, tucking away your member’s card when you heard your name.

“Y/N!” You glanced up and smiled brightly when you saw your friend, Goldie.

“G! Look at you!” You giggled happily, completely blown away by her gorgeous outfit.

“Thank you, thank you!” She grinned, “You’re looking lovely as well.” She complimented and you tutted, waving off the compliment. “I was just on my way to freshen up a bit. I know you’ve just arrived, but do you want to join?” She asked and you agreed and were easily swept away. 

You too took the time to touch up your lipliner and lipstick, you were being cautious as Goldie re-glued one of her strip lashes that seemed to be needing more adhesive. After helping her fan it dry to a tacky consistency she placed it back on. You gave yourself a few more spritzes of perfume before you both headed out.

“So it is a big group?” You asked as you two weaved through the sitting room, locking eyes with a handsome man before exchanging a timid smile and continuing on.

“About eight of us.”

“Eight?” You asked in surprise. Your main group only consisted of six people.

“Yeah, Sam brought Tom and Harry with him.” She informed you. Suddenly, you felt the world come to a screeching halt. Just your fucking luck! 

“Oh!” You exclaimed.

“You know them both already, right?” Goldie asked you.

“Oh yeah, I’ve met them before.” You assured and she nodded. She was saying something more but you genuinely couldn’t hear anything as you started to get trapped in your own head.

As soon as you stepped out though your hearing tuned back in and picked out Harry’s boisterous laughter over everyone else’s and you immediately felt your heart skip a beat. Your skin started to tingle, goosebumps breaking out over your arms the closer you got, and those tingles started to seep down into your guts. The butterflies of excitement and nervous were fluttering with reckless abandon in anticipation. Then, finally one of the servers slipped past you and opened up your field of vision to Harry, or his rather chiseled side profile. His hair was longer than you’d last seen him and his facial hair had come in nicely; if you concentrated a bit more you could practically feel it scratching at the delicate skin between your thighs as he worked his way up to your pu-

“Look who’s here!” Goldie announced with glee as you two reached the end of the table and everyone glanced over to her and then to you. 

Harry’s gaze immediately found your own and his eyes raked down your body subtly. You ignored the intense heat of his eyes taking you in longingly and just waved at everyone and did a general greeting before taking your seat on the chair at the end. You were taking everyone in for a moment before picking up the drinks menu to gather yourself until you heard your name.

“Y/N, do you want to sit in the booth? It’s far more comfortable.” Harry spoke to you and you glanced up at him from the menu.

“I’m alright here. Thanks.” You offered a polite smile before looking away. 

You knew full well that you weren’t ordering anything off of this specialty menu, you’d just get your usual Whiskey and soda water with a squeeze of lemon. You just needed a distraction while you composed yourself enough to look at him without picturing him in his full naked glory. It was tough and when you spared him a glance when he wasn’t looking his lips still quirked up to the left, carving his dimple into his cheek. It made you smile, but after that you just steered clear. No one knew that you and Harry were more familiar with each other than the times you’d been to his shows or seen him at your uncle’s things on occasion, so giving him any more attention would make everyone think you were flirting with a taken man. And speaking of…where was she? It didn’t take long for someone to bring her up and ask how he’d been coping with her gone for work.

“I’m good. I’ve always been big on having my own things to keep me occupied.” He said, “Then on the other hand I’m all alone in that big, old house all the time.” he announced and you reached for your drink and took it.

“You don’t get lonely?” Someone asked him.

“Not usually, but lately just a bit.” He said and his gaze flickered over to you, “Wouldn’t mind having some company when things feel a bit slow.” He confessed.

And with that, you excused yourself to the bathroom and rushed over there. You felt so stupid for getting worked up over what he was saying, but you knew exactly what he meant. You could perfectly envision him letting you into his house and immediately dropping to his knees as he got your pants off and just licked you out right there against the doorway. As soon as you got in the stall you grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and pulled your dress up a bit before slipping your hand down the front of your panties to soak up the arousal that had you all slicked up. Your clit was so sensitive that even when the wad of toilet paper skimmed over it as you retracted your hand, it made you bite down on your lip. For a moment you genuinely wished that Harry would burst through the door and lock it behind him so that he could take you then and there. It was a sinful thought and you were quite disappointed in yourself that all it took was being in his presence to have your resolve break down like this. Betrayed by your own body. Once you had washed your hands you beelined it for the bar and waited against the counter.

“What can I get for you, miss?”

“Just a shot of vodka.” You said, “Do you still carry the Kettle One grapefruit one?”

“We do.”

“That please. Chilled.”

“Right away.” The man smiled and you thanked him before he spun around to get what you wanted. 

“Can I pick that up for you?” You heard from beside you and turned to see the handsome man that had made eyes at you when you first arrived.

“Oh no, that’s alright.”

“I insist. I was hoping to buy you a drink but seeing as you’re here with friends, I’m afraid this would be my only opportunity. I’m Eric.” He said extending his hand and you smiled.

“I’m Y/N. Lovely to meet you.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine. So what do you say? Can I at least get this for you?” He inquired once more and you nodded.

“Yeah, alright.” You agreed and he smiled, “Do you want one too? Some guy is paying.” You joked and he chuckled.

“Sure.”

“Alright. I can spare a bit of time.” You flirted and he called on the bartender and asked him for another. 

Soon you had your shots before you and you were clinking the little shot glasses together before tossing them back. He scoffed afterwards and said it was awful and you did as well. You explained that the last time you had this specific vodka it may have been in a spritzer or shooter of sorts, not actually straight. So you guys laughed about that and chatted a little bit about yourselves. You exchanged social media profiles and while you mentioned to him that you weren’t interested in being involved with anyone at the moment, you assured him that if you changed your mind you would reach out. With that you headed back to the table and rolled your eyes as some of your friends whooped and yelped dramatically after someone else had seen you flirting up a storm inside.

“Man, I was never that bold when I was single!” your friend Paul smirked and you giggled.

“I wasn’t being bold, he was.”

“Is that all it takes now a days?” 

“Sometimes.” You giggled and went back to your drink. 

You felt a bit more relaxed now and well, Harry was pissed because he did not acknowledge you once for the rest of the night. Did it make you sad? Of course, but he had no right or reason to be upset at this and you figured that was his way of coping with that. After you had a second full drink your buzz started to come in. You were giggling at everything and getting all affectionate with Paul, who was on your left. He was gay, so you knew that he wouldn’t misinterpret it as you scooched closer and leaned against his shoulder. You had a slight moment of weakness and when you glanced at Harry he was already looking at you. You could feel the energy emanating from him. He looked kind of lost and sad. You had the urge to reach for him, but you couldn’t do that here. So instead you just offered him a small smile and his gaze softened a bit and then you looked away. 

The rest of the time seemed to fly by and before you knew it you were being dropped off in front of your house. 

“Thank you so much for the ride. You are the best!” You praised Goldie with gratitude.

“Not a problem, darling!”

“Do you need water or to have a wee or anything?” You asked.

“I should be alright!” She giggled, “Thank you, though. We’ll see each other for Massimo’s birthday in a few, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You smiled and waved goodbye as she drove off. You then keyed your way inside and immediately shrugged your jacket off, the alcohol in your system had made you feel a bit warm. You were just about to get your shoes off when there were a few knocks on the door and you grinned.

“I knew she’d have to pee.” You said to yourself lowly and when you opened up the door you swore any drunken feeling evaporated from your system as his eyes met yours. “Harry, I don’t think that-”

You were cut off by his lips colliding with yours as he pushed you inside. You easily melted into it and sucked his plump bottom lip between your own lips. He groaned as his hands slide down to your backside, kneading it in his big warm hands. He started turning you around until your back collided with the door and he started to kiss down your neck. You were obsessed with the way his lips felt and with the way his scent enveloped you. You moaned as he you felt him start to suck at the base of your throat.

“N-no marks remember?” You panted as you scratched the back of his head gently.

“Mmm…don’t think anyone’ll be suspicious after you were flirting with that guy at the bar.” He mumbled before picking up where he left off. Your mouth parted as you moaned in slight pain at how hard he was sucking at you. 

“Tsss…it hurts!” You winced.

“Good.” He mumbled before kissing over the mark. You loved when he did things to claim you, because outside of this you weren’t his to claim. He pecked your lips quickly as he pressed his forehead against yours, “You think about that next time before ghosting me for two months.” He lowly and you shook your head.

“It was for your own good.” You reminded.

“I think I can decide what’s good for me and what’s not.” He mumbled lowly as one of his hands came up and angled your face up towards his. The deep, magenta glow from the little sunset lamp in your entryway was making this moment feel like a drug-induced hallucination. Breathing his scent and air made you feel intoxicated. You were putty in his hands. “I’ve missed you so much, angel.” He said lowly. That’s when you realized that his other hand had slithered up your thigh, he was just an inch away from touching you where you needed him most.

“H, no. We shouldn’t.” You reasoned, but did absolutely nothing to push him away or stop his hand from slithering further up your thigh. You wanted him to keep going, but you shouldn’t.

“Tell me to stop then.” He responded huskily and you inhaled sharply as his fingers rubbed over your clothed slit. Your hand darted down and wrapped around his wrist and his eyes immediately softened, “Is that a stop?” He asked with slight concern and you shook your head.

“Harder.” You requested. He groaned and added more pressure, his finger dipping into your crease and colliding with your clit. He felt as the tension just melted off of your body and the soft moan that slipped past your lips made him grin.

“Is that good, angel?” He asked and you nodded and whimpered as he went a bit faster. “You’ve been wet for a while, hmmm?”

“Yes.��� You smiled, “Since I saw you.” You confessed and he giggled. 

“Yeah?” He asked, fully amused at learning this.

“Yeah.” You nodded, still smiling cheek to cheek.

“For real?” He asked lowly, more vulnerably. His eyes bore into yours and you nodded again, not breaking eye contact with him. “That’s fucking hot.” He groaned before kissing your sloppily. 

It was all tongues and teeth colliding, there was just so much urgency that it didn’t even matter if you were kissing at the same pace, you just wanted to be against him. One of your hands reached down to feel the sizable bulge in his pants. You were obsessed with how big his dick got. He stretched you out so good, you got wetter in anticipation. He groaned in satisfaction as you rubbed over him with more pressure, really letting the heel of your palm press against the head of his cock.

“Harry?”

“Yes, angel?”

“Please fuck me.” You panted against his lips and he nodded.

“Yeah, baby. Want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you.” He muttered against your lips before pulling you off towards your bedroom.

“Wait, wait! My shoes! Let me get ‘em off!” You giggled and he groaned and knelt down. You bit your lip and smiled down at him as you placed your foot on his thigh. He kissed your knee as his fingers undid the straps of your high heel.

“Next one.” He hummed and you switched legs. “There you are, now lets get to it.” He smiled and you pulled him to your bedroom swiftly.

As soon as you got in you reached across your body to pull down your dress’ zipper. About halfway down, Harry’s hands slid the straps down your shoulders and then slid under your arms to grab your breasts. He squeezed them as his lips traveled up your neck.

“Fuck, I missed these.” He hummed and you bit your lip and whined as he gently pinched your nipples down between his thumbs and index fingers. He pressed a bit harder until you gasped and he eased up. “Again?” He asked and you nodded.

“Please, again.” You confirmed. 

This was one of the reasons Harry loved sleeping with you. Little things like this, where he was a bit more aggressive and pushed the limits with you. You leaned into it, you loved the bite of pain. You loved feeling pushed to the edge and giving him complete free reign to do with you as he pleased, you’d set some boundaries before but there were very few. And well, he enjoyed taking you there. It’s what he was missing, he figured it out after not having you for two months. 

Things weren’t bad in his relationship but they were rather tame. He loved having slow, meaningful sex but he also loved having horny, kinky, and primal sex where he could fulfill his urges however he pleased. That wasn’t really the kind of person his partner was, to be fair she had tried but she just couldn’t get into it. And well, knowing you were of that persuasion, it just became easiest to seek you out for it. But he didn’t expect to get whipped after a couple times. It was bad, he had been struggling without you. And thank whatever higher power there was that your paths coincided tonight because he really just needed to see you. Even if nothing had come of it, at least he got to be around you and feel excited again. That very spark of excitement being relit was the thing that persuaded him to show up at your door and he was so glad he had.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He hummed as he glanced down at your body. “So fucking perfect. And so good for me.” He goaded you on. You loved how he spoke to you when you fucked, “Always so fucking good. Aren’t you, angel?”

“Yes, daddy.” You whined and he groaned. Just hearing you call him that again had clouded his judgement completely and the rational part of himself evaporated into thin air.

In moments Harry was urging you to get into bed while he quickly undressed himself. You were nestling yourself into the pillows when he climbed on. You parted your legs to allow him to rest himself over your body and as he settled over you he kissed you deeply. You were aching to feel his cock stretching you open and filling you up with each inch of it that sunk inside of you. You were longing to feel the satisfaction that came with sleeping with him and only him. It was dangerous, like a drug.

Harry kissed your lips once more before pressing himself up, “Gonna get a taste of you first.” He said to you and you bit your lip in excitement. 

You stayed perfectly still as Harry kissed down your chest and stomach, then skipped down to your thighs and nipped and kissed and sucked his way up until  he was pressing kisses over your labia. He loved feeling the wetness seeping out from between your lips, he loved how wet and horny you got for him. So without any further delays he nuzzled in and lapped at your achey little hole, dipping his tongue in until you were grinding into his face and gasping as his nose kept nudging against your clit. He was trying not to, but he was smiling so big, it was getting hard to keep doing what he was doing. But he was absolutely blissed out over getting to savor you once again.

“Oh fuck…” you mewled, “My clit! Suck my clit!” You whined and he groaned as he glided his mouth further up to get to your clit. His mustache pricked at your hypersensitive skin and it made you weak in the knees. You loved the contrast of his smooth lips and tongue in comparison to the roughness of his facial hair scratching over your skin. Once he felt the reached the raised little bump, Harry parted his lips to suck and flick his tongue at the sensitive little bundle until you started to writhe your hips.

Your moans became more consistent and then he pressed his middle finger into you. You gasped as he hooked it up, right into your g-spot. Your abs immediately started to tense as he played your body with an absolutely lethal level of lust-driven determination. He wanted to make you come. The final nail in the coffin was when he plunged a second finger in. The soft smacks of his fingers thrusting in and out of you were getting louder the closer you got to your orgasm. His moans of enjoyment and your praises of gratitude to him joined the chorus of things pushing you right to the edge. And just like that you were coming undone around his fingers. 

“Fuck, that’s it, angel.” He chuckled against you, kissing at your clit lightly until he had worked you through it all the way. 

Harry kissed up your body with lust and what felt like relief. And when he was back up at your face he went in for a sultry kiss, tongue first. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue and felt his hands rub up and down your inner thighs while his heavy erection bobbed up and down in the small space between your bodies. You just wanted him so badly, you raised your hips up to get his tip against your folds and hopefully your clit. He adjusted a bit until his tip kissed your clit as you’d been hoping. You whimpered and he bit his lip at the soft whimpers escaping from your throat as his cock kept bumping into your clit at the perfect pace. He was trying to not make too much of it because if he thought about it too much he’d come like this with ease. And while it was very tempting to do so if only to see your pussy glazed over with his cum, he needed to feel you. He wanted to be buried deep in the person he’d been missing and thinking about all this time when he finally came.

“Please, H. Put it in!” You begged and he groaned as he angled himself down and to your entrance. He gently nudged against it, he’d have to assist a bit to push it inside.

“You’re still on the pill?” He asked as he glanced up at you and your expression fell a bit as your eyes met.

“No, I stopped it last month.” And then you cocked your head towards the adjoining bathroom, “I have condoms somewhere in there though.” You offered because he had always insisted on protection. But this time he bit his lip pensively.

“Ca-can I…pull out?” He asked and your eyes widened and dazzled a bit upon hearing his request. You’d never gone bare before, it was one of the things you’d agreed on every time you’d meet up. Of course, for your own sexual health, but largely because he was still sleeping with a long term partner who wasn’t aware that he had another sexual partner. Truly, the least you two could do was use condoms. 

“Ummm, a-are you sure?” You asked him. 

“Yeah angel, I’m absolutely sure.” You looked a bit skeptical, “M’sure.” He insisted with a nod, “I need t’feel you.” He admitted lowly as his eyes glanced up to yours. He looked uncertain of having shared that with you but you could also see the urgency in them. Your lips twitched up in a small smile.

“Okay.” You agreed and he smiled down at you as he started to guide himself down to your entrance. 

When his tip finally met with your entrance and he started to press in you sighed in relief. You had slept with someone else shortly after the last time with Harry, so it had been a while for you and you were aching to feel the stretch as your body adjusted and accommodated to his size. 

“Ready?” He asked and you nodded eagerly.

“I’m so ready.” You responded, nearly breathless and with that he surged forward with enough force to sink inside, “Oh fuuuuck…” You moaned, eyes squeezing shut the second your muscles relaxed enough to allow him to sink in about halfway. 

Harry moaned in relief as well, but his eyes were fixed on the place where your bodies were connected. He loved to see you stretched out around him, he marveled at the way he fit inside of you. Without a warning he reared back and you whined. He smirked smugly and glanced up at you before thrusting back into you. You moaned as your gazes locked once again.

“Can you take it all with the next one?” He asked and you nodded once, “You sure?”

“Yeah, m’sure. Please, H.” You whined softly. With that he pulled back again and thrust inside with a bit more strength and then he actually shifted his hips down causing your legs to fall open even more as you opened right up for him. “Oh shit!” You gasped in surprise when his cock went as deep as it could. It felt like he was in your stomach.

“Relax f’me, angel.” He encouraged you and when you did and he ground into you, his tip just barely grazed your cervix. The small, but dull ache told you that’s where he was. “Can I move?”

“Please move.” You giggled breathlessly and he smiled before pulling out and gliding back in with ease. You were even more wet now with his thrusts. Your body was practically singing for him and the way it felt to be connecting with him this way after all of this time.

Your hands ran up and down the hot and smooth skin of his back and arms. You didn’t know how much you missed the feeling of the bulging muscles in his back and arms working hard to make you feel good. He was so strong, it made you even hornier as you brought a hand over his chest to feel his bulging pectorals. He smiled and knelt up, spreading your legs even more as he watched with lustful eyes as his cock glided in and out of you with ease.

“Fuck, you take it so well.” He grunted through his thrusts before grabbing your left breast in his hand. He groped and squeezed at it and your nipple, causing your back to arch up with his tugs as you gasped and moaned. “Too much?” He asked when you winced and you shook your head.

“It’s good! It’s so fucking good!” You mewled.

Harry was obsessed with how perfect you looked beneath him. Gorgeous face, tits bouncing up and down with the force of his thrusts. Your warm and inviting little hole taking his cock as well as he remembered. For a while there at Amante’s he was worried that you’d leave with that handsome guy who was entertaining you at the bar and boy, did his blood boil. He wasn’t going to act on his need for you until he saw that. At the very least, the man had gotten your socials and he’d be a fool to not shoot his shot with you. But that’s why he ended up at your doorstep, he wanted to be fresh on your mind if you decided to try your luck with someone else. He knew it was messy and even toxic of him to do this, but he wanted you to compare. He wanted you to obsess and lose sleep over him the way he did over you.

“Damn, look at you.” He sighed with a slight smirk, “You were being so good, weren’t you? Keeping your promise and staying away, but look at you now.” He pointed out, “All it took was seeing me once for you to spread your legs for me.” He said smugly and you moaned, “You’re right back where you started, angel. My needy, cock-hungry, little slut.” He teased and degraded you just how you loved, it was pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

Your walls tightened up around him, squeezing him tight. You enjoyed this. This was the side of him that he saved for you. The side of him that his girlfriend didn’t like and couldn’t handle. You loved how he mocked you and made you feel so weak and fickle. You’d spent most of your life being strong, being the rock, it was good to be able to not be that person. To give in to your recklessness and your humanity in a safe space with a person who not only cared for you, but fucked you so good you could detach from reality and just enjoy being taken care of.

“Fuck, I’m so close!” You gasped when he ground deep into you while rubbing over your clit. 

The pleasure started to expand from deep in your core and to the rest of your body. Your walls were fluttering around his cock erratically, without your influence. His deep moans in response had your skin covered in goosebumps. And as the feeling made it down your legs, you writhed beneath him, whining and whimpering as you got closer and closer. Your brain was starting to shut off and your eyes to glaze over as you succumbed to the pleasure possessing your body. When your ears started to ring you knew you were about to come. You were smiling in satisfaction as the moans flowed from your mouth, limbs feeling like jell-o.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna come!” You gasped, “Please, let me come!” You asked for permission. You always had to ask the first time.

“Go on, angel. Give it t’me, come for me.” He granted you the permission and immediately your body went tense. 

Your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack as all of those wonderful, tingling feelings rippled from your core and out to the rest of your body. It felt like your veins were pumping fire through you. You were desperately grinding up to meet his own thrusts, not able to get enough of him even now as you creamed all over his cock. Harry leaned down to hover over you again, breathing in your exhales, letting his own pleasure reach its own pinnacle. He had every intention of pulling out, but seeing you there beneath him so fucking perfect and fucked out because of him, plus the underlying jealously he was still feeling that led him to your bed, he just couldn’t stop. His thrusts grew erratic and his hands found yours, he pressed them into the mattress as he interlocked your fingers. The look in his eyes tipped you off that his resolve was breaking.

“H-Harry, pull out!” You stammered out the reminder as his brows furrowed and he shook his head. His thrusts slowed but he fucked into your harder until he sunk into you as deep as he could. “Oh fuck!” You whined. 

“Fuuuuck…” he moaned deeply as his eyes squeezed shut and then pressed his forehead into yours as he ignored your reminder and started to come inside of you. He needed to and in that moment had no interest in sticking to his own rule.

You could feel the dramatic pulses and twitches of his cock as your snug, warm walls milked the cum out of him. Just feeling it filling you up like this was working you up all over again. Harry groaned and moaned through his orgasm, enjoying it for as long as he could. He had no idea if you’d be angry with him when he took your face in again, but he was glad he did it. He needed to do it. He could feel you trying to free up your hands, so he let them go. He was mentally preparing to feel you pushing him off of you in a completely appropriate fit of rage. But instead you just ran your fingers up the back of his neck and gently scratched at the back of his head. You smiled a bit as you felt his body relax and melt against yours before you giggled.

“You’re reckless and stupid for that.” You chastised him before kissing the side of his face and he just smiled.

“I’ll make sure to get a pill to you in the morning.” He mumbled, “Sorry, I just…something came over me.” He muttered.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, “I like it.” You admitted timidly and he smiled.

“Yeah? Sure?”

“Yes.” You reiterated and he smiled.

You just lay in silence for a little bit, recouping from the intense sex you’d just had. You were enjoying his warmth and the weight of him over you as much as possible before he made his swift exit. But his breaths were getting more and more shallow and he was melting against you further and further.

Suddenly he pushed up a bit until his eyes were meeting yours, “I’m sorry for doing that without asking. I should’ve asked.” He said softly, suddenly feeling really bad and guilty for coming inside of you like that. He had never pushed the limit like that before and was worried that you were just downplaying it.

“Yes, you should’ve but I’m not upset that you didn’t. I ummm…I like that quite a bit.” You admitted bashfully, “Though, I’m…surprised you went through with it, but definitely not upset at you for it.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise.” You confirmed.

“Can I stay?” He asked after a moment of silence and you bit your lip, feeling so hesitant to allow it.

“Why?” You asked.

“I’m fucking tired.” He said and you smiled, “But mostly because…I don’t want to be in the house alone for another night.” He admitted. You gave it a thought for a moment before agreeing.

“Just this once.” You decided and he thanked you with a gentle kiss to your lips before warning you that he was going to pull out. 

You two got cleaned up and then back into bed. You had gotten in first and had turned on your side, facing away from him to give him both, space and privacy. Moments later you felt the bed dip and the last thing you expected was for Harry to continue scooting in until his front was flush with your back. But when he tried to drape his arm over your midsection you sat up.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he sat up as well and you switched on the beside lamp and turned to him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him.

“Nothing, just getting comfortable to sleep.”

“Why do you think I moved all the way over here? To give you space.” You said with a shake of your head.

“Oh, you’re not a cuddler?” He asked.

“Oh no, I can be but we don’t do this kind of thing.” You explained.

“Well what if I want to?” He asked.

“Then maybe you should go sleep in your own house.” You said and he sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want to but…I like you Harry and I don’t want to start to not like you.” You explained and he pouted.

“How do you mean?” 

“If we…blur more lines than we already have then things can only get more complicated between us and end badly. I care about you too much to let that happen. It’s why I blocked you and why I stayed away from you this whole time.” You explained.

“You’re right.” He nodded, “I shouldn’t have shown up like this tonight. It was hard, being away from you but I was doing it.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, “So, if you want to stay here tonight, then we stay on our own sides of the bed. And this is the only time it can happen.” 

“Okay.” He agreed with ease and you smiled.

“Good.” You concluded and turned to switch off the light while Harry shuffled back over to make more space. Once again, the two of you were shrouded in the dark with more space between the two of you. 

“Is this also the last time we sleep together?” He asked into the darkness.

“I think so.” You said with a bit of uncertainty. 

And well, Harry was glad you were feeling hesitant about it, you two were quite great together. He could just end his relationship, but he didn’t feel like “the sex could be better” was really a good enough reason. Apart from things being a little bit slow in that department he would say that his relationship was good. He was happy. There was good give and take from both of them. He could see this panning out for the long haul if he really prioritized the relationship. He didn’t feel quite ready to be making those moves though. Maybe that’s why he was still clinging to you. You sparked up a part of him that made his life feel unpredictable and exciting. You were more open and freewheeling. You were just fun, whereas his girlfriend was exactly as she seemed, a calm and sweet spirit. It certainly paired well with the side of him that liked to slow down, the side of him that he wanted to be in tune with after a large world tour. That’s why he’d settled in so easily. 

But you…you were something else. Even though he tended to be a little more on the quiet side, when you were around you made him feel just as included as the person who was the extrovert of the group. You connected with the cheeky and mischievous side of him. You made him laugh and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You were like that first taste of coffee in the morning. The very same one that gave you the feeling that were awake now and made you feel ready to face whatever came at you that day. You were incredibly unforgettable. Since the first time he’d met you, you’d constantly come up in his thoughts. The fact that he was friends with your uncle might’ve aided with that, but only by tiniest bit. The feeling that swirled in his gut and chest the very first time he locked eyes with you last summer, that’s what kept him coming back. Because even to this day, whenever he had the privilege of being in your presence, he’d feel the exact same thing. It’s like when you looked at him everything stopped. There was goodness, authenticity, and mischief in your gaze. He loved to be on the receiving end of your undivided attention. Even now, as he just laid here silently, ruminating and obsessing over all of this, he could feel that you were looking in his direction now and after a few second he felt you turn away.

You turned your head forward again and just stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Are you upset?” You asked him softly.

“Yes and no.” he responded. You bit your lip as your fingers twitched a bit as you fought from reaching out towards his hand. But after a few seconds you just slid your hand over. When Harry felt your fingers grazing his hand he turned it palm up and let you slide your fingers into the gaps between his. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yeah, angel.” He whispered back. You two fell silent for a bit before you spoke up again.

“You know, maybe it’s a good thing I’m only your side piece. If I had you to myself I’m afraid we’d never do anything productive again.” You pondered aloud and he snorted out a laugh, causing you to giggle.

“Fucking like bunnies is actually very productive.” He added and you sputtered out a laugh.

“We wouldn’t just fuck! We’d share other hobbies.” You reminded.

“Fellatio and cunnilingus.” He mumbled before you both started sniggering again.

“I was going to say anal play but that too I guess.” You muttered and he chuckled and squeezed your hand a bit. 

“Cheeky girl.” He mumbled through his laugh.

You were fighting with all your might not to just roll over and onto him and kiss him. You liked him so fucking much, but this was wrong. You weren’t that kind of girl and he wasn’t that kind of guy. It was crazy how with the right person at your side you could and would do just about anything. You laid there thinking about it all for a few seconds and very quickly concluded that maybe one more time couldn’t hurt.

In just a few moments you were straddling Harry’s lap and leaning down to kiss him. His   arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into him. You sighed in relief as your lips collided. Your hand was on his jaw, holding him close as you smooched his lips wetly a couple of times before he drew out his tongue and laved over your bottom lip. Your mouths soon started smacking together softly as you French kissed passionately. You could feel his boner growing beneath you and you couldn’t help yourself as you ground down onto him. His hands came down to your ass and squeezed at it, pulling you down onto him a bit harder. You moaned as his rock hard cock rubbed into your clit and you sped up your pace.

“Fuck me.” Harry mumbled his request as he gently spanked your bottom.

“Yeah?” You panted as you slowed down.

“Yeah, get my dick out.” He instructed. You slid down his thigh and tugged his briefs down carefully, allowing his cock to spring right up. He sighed in relief and you suddenly had a need to feel his weight on your tongue. You slid the rest of the way down, parting his legs as you got lower and lower until your mouth was over his cock. You guided him into your mouth, immediately sucking at his tip fervently as he moaned and rubbed over your cheek.

“Take more, angel. Take more.” He urged you. You did so without hesitation, relaxing your jaw and throat as you sunk further down. He was quite the mouthful, so there was no way of doing this neatly. It was sloppy and needy and you were enjoying it as much as he was “Fuck, that’s good, baby.” He groaned, brows creased in pleasure as you started to fondle his balls as well. His abs were starting to tense and his breathing to grow shallow. “Angel, get on me. Please, m’so fucking close.” He begged and you slowly pulled off of him.

You glanced up at him and smiled as you moved back up and knelt over him. You moved your panties to the side and he quickly reached for his cock and held it up for you. You shifted your hips a bit when you felt him up against your labia and in moments you were sinking down onto him slowly. You both moaned in relief before you went a bit further and stopped. You were getting used to his girth before sliding down a little bit more, until finally you were seated on him fully.

“Fuck, it’s so big…” you winced as you bounced over his cock. 

“I know, baby, but you take it so well. Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good.” He groaned.

One of his big hands was holding your hips, guiding you up and down, helping you through the motions. His other hand was rubbing your clit in perfectly timed little circles. With his cock prodding right into your sweet spot and his fingers rubbing over your clit, you were quickly reaching your climax. Your skin was covered in goosebumps as you took everything in. The sensations of fucking him, of his hands on your body. The sounds of your ass smacking into his thighs with every bounce over him and your soft grunts and his moans all got you closer and closer to your orgasm. The coil of pleasure that seemed to be winding up inside of you was about to spring free. You were starting to tingle all over, your moans were increasing in pitch the closer and closer you got. 

“Oh fuck…oh fuck, I’m coming!” You gasped and he groaned as he felt your walls pulsing erratically around his cock. You started to lose your rhythm as you came all over him.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’re gonna make me come!” He warned as he started to thrust up into you hard to get himself to his orgasm and you all the way through yours. He was hammering into your g-spot and you were once again being pushed to the edge. You moaned his name in gratitude and praise as he fucked you through another orgasm. Harry held your hip with one hand while the other grabbed around your neck gently and tugged you down until you were moaning into his mouth. “Good girl.” He panted and kissed you quickly, “M’gonna come in you.” He panted and you groaned as he held you down hard, “Shit, angel? Know you want me to fuck another load into your perfect, little pussy.” He panted and you nodded, “Ask for it, then.” He said and you whined but parted your lips to speak anyway.

“Please come inside me, daddy! Please!” You implored, “I need t’feel you filling me up, H. Please!” 

How could he resist that? He grunted deeply through a handful of thrusts before gabbing your hips hard and holding you down onto his lap as he thrusted up as deep as he could and ground up into your pelvis. You were trembling over him, legs feeling like jell-o as he shot his load deep into you. You could feel the warmth of it filling you up and it was making your brain start to fog. You leaned down and kissed him gently again. His grip on your hips started to loosen up and soon his hands were gently sliding up to your waist and wrapping around you, pulling you down over him as you continued kissing hungrily as you came down from your orgasms. You were both struggling to breathe but neither of you wanted to pull away. Pulling away only meant that this would end and neither of you was quite ready for it to be over. You stayed like that, kissing and cock warming until he completely softened up and started to slip from you.

“Harry, Harry!” You giggled against his lips, “I need to clean up before I get your cum all over my sheets.” You warned and he groaned and kissed you once more.

“Alright, go on.” He said lowly, voice deep and gravely due to how late it was. You tightened up as you knelt up and scurried to the bathroom. You sat on the toilet and let his cum leak out of you before letting yourself pee. You were just sliding your panties back on when Harry peaked in. “May I?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and moved to wash your hands. 

“M’gonna steal a few wipes.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, whatever you need.” You assured and hurried out to just check you hadn’t stained the bed. Thankfully you hadn’t and just as you were about to turn out the lights Harry emerged from the bathroom. He hurried back and settled in and then you turned off the lights. You both got comfortable again, only this time you were resting shoulder to shoulder, not minding the proximity. You fell quiet for a bit until Harry cleared his throat.

“Are you going to go out with that guy from Amante?” He asked and you sighed.

“I think so…it’d be a good distraction.” You mumbled tiredly.

“Yeah, maybe.” He responded. “If it pans out, maybe we can all go on a double date.” He joked and you snorted and reached over to smack his tummy gently as he chuckled.

“That’d be so fucked up.” You chuckled.

“I know it might be weird, but can we still be friends?” He asked,

“We’re always friends.”

“Then don’t block me this time.” He said and you smiled.

“Then don’t call me when you’re bored and horny.” You quipped back and he chuckled.

“Deal.” He hummed and you nudged your shoulder into his playfully and he nudged you back. You guys talked about random things until you dozed off side by side. 

When you woke up the next morning, already later in the morning, you were alone but Harry had left a morning after pill on your bedside table with a glass of water, just as he’d promised.

….One Month Later….

It’d been a while since you’d crossed paths with Harry. He’d been out of the country doing his things, visiting his girlfriend, and friends in other places…really just carrying on as normal. But him being out of the country provided you the opportunity to start to go out with others as you intended. Not that you couldn’t do those things with him in the country, but knowing that he was off and with his girlfriend gallivanting around the globe made the fact clear that whatever you two had was definitely over.

You’d gone out with Eric, the guy you met at the bar at Amante’s, twice. And while he was fun to talk to, it just wasn’t that strong of a romantic connection. He was nice and smart and very respectful, but he was looking for something that would turn serious quickly. You learned he had two kids and was divorced due to irreconcilable differences and he hoped that the person he dated could also bond with his children. You weren’t ready to have anything to do with children, especially in the capacity of a caregiver, and because of that things didn’t pan out.

You were doing well enough for anyone in your position though. You sort of threw yourself into your work for a bit, which had paid off for you since you’d been very busy. You were relieved that things seemed to be taking off for Harry, it made you feel like maybe he was working everything out with his girlfriend. Or perhaps he was just accepting the fact that if he wanted a future with her that he’d have to compromise on some things. And that’s where you differed from him. 

You knew what you brought to the table and you also knew what you wanted. You didn’t think you were unreasonable in what you wanted from a partner, but your slim pickings made you think otherwise at times. You weren’t afraid of being alone, you had been alone for most of your life, save for a couple unsuccessful romantic relationships. Your companionship needs were mostly met through the close relationships you had with your friends. And when you had other physical needs that you couldn’t meet yourself, well you hooked up. It worked for you, you were still happy and quite frankly weren’t in a rush, you just wanted to enjoy your life and your youth. And if a like-minded partner came along, then great! But that didn’t mean that other people believed that you were happy with your current life path. So, when you had family things to attend you always sought out a date.

“If anyone asks you how long we’ve been together say we met a couple months ago.” You instructed as you came to a stop behind the small queue of cars outside of your uncle Rob’s home.

“Got it.” Joe, your date for the night, chuckled.

“Also, there might be a lot of famous people here so just try and be as collected as possible. Most of them are super fucking nice, but they just get weird if you start talking about their work.” You added and he nodded.

“Got it.” He confirmed. Soon enough you were getting out of the car and leaving it with the valet and you guided Joe to the side gate where everyone was entering. 

It was your aunt’s birthday and she was having a big party. There wasn’t much decor apart from flowers and balloons but there were tables placed throughout the back lawn where everyone was eating from the couple of food trucks that were hired to cater. There was also a live band and the in-ground pool had been covered and turned into a dance floor. You immediately recognized a couple of people as you made it inside and greeted them with warmth and affection before introducing Joe. Of course he was bombarded with questions and you had told him before to just make things up and you’d play along. Based on what he was saying now, you two had met when you both rushed into a cab on a rainy night in the spring. He was animatedly telling the story and his audience of two were extremely captivated by his story, looking at him with adoration at his romantic tale. 

You were giggling quietly, surveying the tables and queue formed at the bar to scope out your parents when suddenly your eyes locked on Harry’s. He smiled slightly at you and you returned his friendly gesture. It wasn’t hard to miss the girlfriend he had his arm draped over. You watched in amusement as clearly, the person they were talking to had directed a question at him, but he was too busy staring at you. You saw her slightly turn back to him and grab his attention. He was just a little flustered and shook it off with a little laugh as he turned back to the conversation. You smirked and right before you turned your attention back to Joe, she turned in your direction and almost immediately locked gazes with you. You offered a smile and while she returned a rather stiff smile, you didn’t miss the way she quickly eyed you up and down before turning her attention back to the other guest.

*************

Obviously, a lot of people wanted a moment of his time at this party, so it had been nearly half an hour before he had been able to go up and grab some food at the Indian food truck. He was just waiting off to the side, discretely scanning the crowd, hoping to spot you again, when his girlfriend grabbed his attention.

“H?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Who was that girl from before?”

“What girl?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Of course, he was playing dumb, trying to make light of it to pull away any suspicion or probing. He hadn’t spoken to you in months! Whatever sporadic flings you had in the past had stayed there. However, seeing you again had him feeling on his toes. He had hoped you’d be here tonight, if only just to get a look at you. Seeing you on social media was fine, but nothing beat having you there in the flesh. Getting to see what you wore, how you’d done your hair and make up, getting to hear your voice, and then letting all those things influence his wild and incredibly vivid imagination was something he had been looking forward to. 

“The one that distracted you when we were talking to Ralph.” She reminded.

“Oh, her?” He chuckled, “That’s Rob’s niece, we’re friends. I’m sure you’ve met her before.” 

“I don’t think so…I’ve seen her around though.”

“You didn’t meet her at the Reggio show, last year?”

“Nope, was never introduced.”

“Oh well, if we spot her again we can say hello.” He smiled and she nodded before biting on her lip for a moment as she glanced around, trying to find you in the crowd again. 

Finally, she spotted you and just stared for a little bit. She saw how you seemed to know everyone and how you just seemed to light up the conversations of the people you were engaging with. Even the man on your arm was captivated. She was a little more on the shy side, especially since she didn’t know a lot of people here. And she couldn’t help but feel a little put off the more she observed you from afar. It seemed that you were completely over the top, possibly an ass-kisser. Just another one of those opportunistic nepo industry plants, greasing the wheels at any opportunity you’d get and this was the perfect place to do that. She hoped that your paths wouldn’t cross tonight, she wasn’t in the mood to feign interest in someone who could possibly be using Harry to get her foot in the door.

************

The night had been unexpectedly fun for you, Joe was a hoot. And although you’d been planning on just dropping him off at home at the end of the night, the way he was handling all of these people had you seriously considering spending the night with him. You’d run into a lot of people you hadn’t seen in a long while, caught up with your parents and other family members, and introduced them to Joe. You’d danced, shared some food with him, and on top of that, you had been actively avoiding a run in with Harry and his girlfriend like it was your life’s mission. You hadn’t run into him yet, so you drank a little more, let loose, and right as you settled into that lovely, carefree, and vulnerable place in the bosom of your buzz you spotted him coming through the crowd. Once again your eyes locked and his smile brightened.

“Y/N!” He called out to you and you smiled and raised your hand from around Joe’s shoulder to wave at him. You saw him pulling his girlfriend along behind him as he approached. 

“Harry! Hi!” You greeted with excitement and started to stand. Now that you had a good dosage of alcohol in your system you were less nervous about seeing him. But as the pair got closer you noticed a slight jerk of his arm and realized that he was trying release his hand from hers but she wasn’t letting him go. But after another tug he was free and hurrying ahead and then his body collided with yours in a tight hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He hummed as he swayed your bodies a little bit for a few seconds. Your hand rubbed at his back, right between his shoulder blades a couple of times before you started to pull back. He wasn’t letting go though.

“H, let go.” You whispered discretely and he immediately loosened his grip before he twirled around to grab his girlfriend’s hand again and you turned to see Joe already standing.

“Love, this is my friend, Y/N.” Harry introduced you to her as soon as you turned around again.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” You greeted her with a smile and extended hand. She returned the pleasantry and you proceeded to introduce Joe, “This Joe, my date.” You shared with them and Harry was quick to reach his hand out and greet him. When Joe then turned his attention to Harry’s girlfriend, you saw Harry size him up a bit and you smiled.

“-do you guys want to sit?” Is what you heard Joe ask and Harry immediately accepted and you saw his girlfriend’s face fall a bit before she put on a smile and sat as Harry pulled a chair out for her.

It was all small talk at first, but his girlfriend soon saw that you weren’t being fake. Even as you talked about the most mundane things, you were positive and funny and engaging. It genuinely got under her skin that she was wrong about you, but you were just fun and good at being outgoing. It kind of made her blood boil because you weren’t even dressed all flashy to get attention, it just came to you from everyone, including Harry. She was more than relieved though when Harry asked how it was that you and Joe met. Joe turned to you and you just smiled and nodded, allowing him to take over and share that. She just didn’t want to hear your voice anymore, it was pissing her off. 

So when Joe went off on his story-telling tangent about how you’d met at a cat adoption fair and were fighting for the same one, she just focused on that. Meanwhile, Harry stole a quick glance at you because he knew it was absolute bullshit. You really disliked cats, something to do with there only being room for one sassy ass-hole in your household.

“-and in the end I got the cat and the girl so…win, win.” He smirked at you as he finished his story and you giggled.

“Lucky you.” You hummed with adoration in your gaze. 

Despite all of that bullshit, the way you were looking into Joe’s eyes was as real as it got. Harry couldn’t help but feel his insides knotting up with jealously as he felt the tension between the two of you and saw that there was sufficient attraction there. His girlfriend didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched for a few seconds before he reached for his drink.

“So what did you say you did for work?” His girlfriend asked you.

“Oh, I dabble in several things in the music industry, just kind of float about.” You gave her the short answer. It was the truth, you did a lot of things! You were a studio musician, you engineered, you composed, you assisted production and when you went off on that in specifics you found that you had to explain a lot and you were a little too buzzed for that right now so you kept it very surface level.

“Mmm…I’m sure your uncle can help you get on your feet and connect with the right people to develop your skills if you’re still, you know trying to figure out what you're good at or find something more…established.” She said with a polite smile, but her tone and the look in her eyes made you read between the lines. You were about to respond and just agree with the evidently irritated woman before you when Harry turned to her.

“Actually, Y/N is a very accomplished musician by her own right.” Harry cut in and when she turned to him you just shook your head, asking him not to engage or jump in to try and defend you. You were used to these kinds of comments by now, but he ignored your cue. “She plays like five different instruments and often plays in and edits for film scores. Weren’t you the second chair cellist in the philharmonic orchestra right out of college?” He asked and you just smiled politely.

“That was a long time ago.” You added, trying to make him get the hint to stop. “She’s right though, I’ve been more interested in the composition and production side of things lately, so my uncle has introduced me to a few colleagues to help me learn the more practical side of that. Having a degree in it can only get you so far.” 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t like give you jobs just because you're his niece.” Harry said, cutting straight to the point of what his girlfriend had been suggesting.

“Well, no, I certainly need to earn those by my own merits.” You chuckled, “But I mean, like anything in the entertainment industry, it’s nearly impossible to get into without some sort of internal connections.” You confirmed what she'd alluded to with a smile.

“Or without having the potential to be an absolute legend.” Joe added as he gestured towards Harry, who chuckled and glanced down at his hands on the table with a modest shake of his head.

“Exactly. Whatever you have is so special. It’s brilliant that you’re modest about it, because truly some people aren’t.” You added, “But I mean, we all know you’re one in a million, H.” You chuckled and he glanced up at you.

“Well, thank you for thinking that.” He said bashfully and you smiled.

“Of course.” You smiled. 

After that, things got a little awkward with his girlfriend. So you tried to talk about her and what she had going on but she seemed to be quite shut down and the topic shifted to Joe and what he did. He was a sociology professor at the University of West London, so he had a lot to say if you guys kept talking about him. However, it wasn’t hard to miss that she was clearly upset at Harry. She even seemed annoyed when he draped his jacket over her shoulders as a cool breeze started to blow around you all. Just as things started to get unbearably weird the music stopped.

“Everyone, if we can gather on the dance floor, we’re going to sing “Happy Birthday” in just a few moments!” Your uncle announced. You were so grateful for this divinely timed interruption.

“Yay! Time for cake!” You said with excitement and shot out of your seat. Harry and his girlfriend stood as well and he watched as Joe chuckled at you and shrugged off his own jacket. He quietly asked if you were cold, “I’m alright, quite warm from the alcohol.” You assured him, so he just draped it over the chair. 

You two waited for Harry and his girlfriend before making your way over to the dance floor with everyone else. It started to fill up and before long you all started to sing along to the band playing the “Happy Birthday” tune. You and Harry were standing beside each other and in your state, you were having a hard time ignoring your desire to nestle into his side and inhale his cologne. He looked so fucking good. Yes, Joe was a proper hottie, but Harry was Harry. You were drawn to him and he to you, you were magnetic. 

You were starting to realize that it didn’t matter how much time or distance you two let pass by, you were drawn to each other. And when you saw each other again you had to be near him and you loved that it felt like no time had passed at all. Your connection transcended time and distance and that terrified you, because you were starting to realize that if he wanted to string you along as his side piece for the rest of his life, it could very well happen. It didn’t matter that it was wrong to everyone else because it didn’t feel that way to you or to him.

And just as the band played the final note with a colorful flare, your aunt laughed happily and blew out the candles and everyone’s cheering was interrupted by surprised gasps as some fireworks erupted in the sky. You smiled brightly as you looked up at the beautiful colors painting the night sky. And in the midst of your awe at the scene before you, you felt hisHarry's finger grazing your own and the air suddenly left your lungs. You felt your mouth dry up nervously and you swallowed thickly before extending your pinky out to graze against his own. You saw him smile from your peripherals as he locked your fingers together. Such a small gesture had your mind blurring and your body tingling with excitement and relief. 

Shortly after the fireworks and some cake, people started to head out. You made sure to take Joe around to say goodbye to your family before they all left. They were all very happy to meet him and made it clear that they hoped to see him again soon. He nodded along but knew better than that. Regardless of reality, he was so sweet and acknowledged their kind wishes. He had really done an amazing job being your date and you were intent on repaying him all of the effort he had put in for you tonight.

“Ready to go?” He asked and you nodded.

“I just need to use the bathroom. Do you?”

“No, I’m good.” He assured you.

“Okay, I’m gonna try and sneak into a bathroom upstairs and then find my aunt to give her, her present. Can you grab the car from the valet? I’ll meet you there.” 

“Yeah, of course.” He smiled and you thanked him and then dug the little ticket out of your purse before handing it over. 

“Alright, I’ll meet you out there. I won’t be long!” You assured and hurried off.

**************

Harry kept a close eye on you after the crowd dispersed after the fireworks. He was itching to be near you again. Especially since his girlfriend was no longer in a good mood. He wasn’t nearly as preoccupied about that though. He would certainly hear it all tomorrow when she'd let it simmer inside long enough that it just had to come out. 

"I need to go to the bathroom before we go." she said.

"Okay, that's fine there's the line." he said nodding towards it, "I need to talk to Rob about something before we go." he fibbed and she hummed and glanced at the remaining guests. She hadn't said anything as she scanned the area, she was looking for you. Luckily for him, he'd seen you head into the house. "Look, s'getting longer." he said, refocusing her attention back on the line and she huffed.

"Damn it."

"Just go. I'll come find you when I'm done." he assured and she walked off. And he rushed through the crowd to get inside before she saw where he went.

**************

You were going to be quick about this since you’d left Joe to get in line for your car. As you washed your hands you gave yourself a quick look over and were pleased that your makeup was still intact and that you were still satisfied with the casual, black dress you’d chosen to wear. You then reached for the hand towel to dry your hands off and as you opened up the door you gasped in fright, not expecting to see Harry standing there in the dark hallway. He wordlessly pushed you and himself back inside before closing the door and looking right into your eyes.

“What’re you doing here?! If she finds out that you’re-”

“I don’t want to think about her right now.” He shook his head, rejecting the topic you were trying to bring up. You were suddenly struggling to breathe as his hands came up to hold your face tenderly, “I’m so happy you’re here.” He whispered, “You look so pretty.”

“You look good too.” You returned the compliment.

“Yeah?” He asked softly and you smiled and nodded, “Didn’t shave because I hoped I’d see you here. Know you like it when I grow out m’facial hair.” He hummed softly and you smiled in endearment.

“Are you just gonna stare or are you planning on kissing me at some point?” You questioned with a smirk and he grinned as he leaned in. 

Your kiss was a little unsuccessful at first, given that you were giggling and smiling like fools. But as soon as your teeth dug into his bottom lip he groaned and grabbed your hips before pushing you up against the door. Your lips met with urgency and you kissed ardently as his hips kept your body pinned to the door. One of his hands slid up the back of your dress and smoothed over your bottom. You were wearing a thong because of the sleek look of the dress, but you were glad that it was beneficial for this too. His other hand squeezed over your right breast before he started to fondle it as you held him close by the belt loops. He had just started rutting against your front when your phone started to ring in your purse.

“Just ignore it.” He mumbled.

“Can’t.” You said and he huffed before kissing your chin and then working his way up your jaw and to your ear lobe as you blindly grabbed the phone out of your bag. You saw Joe’s name on the screen and answered it.

“Hello?” You spoke quietly as Harry moved down to your neck.

“Hey, there’s one person ahead of me.” He informed and you held in a whimper as Harry started to suck right where your jaw and neck met.

“O-okay. Just looking for my aunt to give her the card I got her.” You fibbed.

“Okay, if they come before you get here I’ll wait right outside the gate.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” You assured and hung up quickly without letting him say another thing. You hissed as Harry sucked a bit harder, doing his best to leave his mark on your skin. “H-how am I gonna explain this? I was trying to get laid tonight.” You mumbled and he chuckled as he pulled away and kissed his way back up to your lips.

“You could still get laid.” He said with a smug grin as he hovered directly over you. His words were practically traced against your lips, it was making you dizzy.

“I think a fresh love bite from another man might be a bit off putting.” You replied with snark and he smirked.

“Then maybe you should get fucked by the person who marked you.” He suggested and you chuckled and sighed, “Please, angel. Just one more time.”

“Go fuck your girlfriend.” You suggested playfully and his smile faded and he shook his head.

“I don’t want her.” He responded as his eyes met yours with sincerity and clarity. 

Hearing him say that filled you with a bit of arrogance but more than that, there was relief. Relief that maybe, he was as down bad for you as you were for him. You tiptoed and then grabbed his jaw before leaning in to kiss him deeply before pulling back.

“Find a way to sneak out and come over. I’ll leave a spare key taped to the inside of the little slot for the post.” You said and he bit his lip to try and diminish the size of his smile.

“Okay. I’ll text when I leave mine. Might be late.”

“S’alright. I’ll wait for you.” You assured him as you looked deep into his beautiful, jade eyes. 

Something about the way you were saying it told him that you meant that in a way more complex than just plotting for a hook up. His gaze softened and he leaned in and kissed you delicately.

“Will you really?” He asked and you nodded, “Then say it again.” He whispered.

“I’ll wait for you, Harry.” You mumbled against his kiss-swollen lips and he kissed you deeply once more before slipping out of the bathroom quickly. 

You sighed and proceeded to lick over your lips. You could still slightly taste his minty lip balm smeared against them. You were smiling at yourself in the mirror, already feeling a little stupid for being so weak when it came to Harry as you shook your head and smirked before rolling your eyes.

“The things I do for love…”

_ _ _ _

>> Read Part 2 >>

Let me know what you think!

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[midmourn]

break ups with nct dream

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre angst warnings break ups, unhealthy coping, insecurities, some members dont think of themselves very highly, unintentional manipulation maybe ?? ( library )

mark who can’t stop pretending like everything’s fine. mark who is for once thankful of his busy schedule. because when his mind isn’t preoccupied, he finds it always going back to you. now, you only come to his mind late at night when he’s about to fall asleep only to wake up in four hours for yet another schedule. there’s a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he realizes the heartbreak is just as fresh as it was the moment it happened. thinks he let you go to easy but also respects you too much to argue. at this time, he’d be too busy talking to you on the phone to fall asleep. something he used to momentarily regret the next day, but now something he yearns for. he turns around and begs hypos to let him sleep.

renjun who wants to scream at the world and god and ask why is this happening. renjun who refuses to talk about it. he doesn’t understand what happened. he thought you guys were doing perfectly fine. you seemed happy, anyway. he can’t tell if he was just too blind to see that you actually were unhappy or if you were just a good actor. he finds himself thinking about what you’re doing, even when he’s busy. he misses you so bad that he’s so angry that you left. he gets even angrier when he sees you with another guy a couple weeks later. but he’s more angry at himself for letting you go. he thinks it’s easier to be angry than upset.

jeno who cries and then gets his emotions out at the gym. jeno who hits the punching bag so hard it manages to fall off the chain. he moves onto the wall next. he ignores the concerned stares from others about the bruises and split knuckles, but is the exact same otherwise. he thinks he’s doing okay, getting his emotions out in the form of his fists, because at least he’s still doing what he needed to do, right? he’s fine, he swears. when he’s laying in bed alone, he can’t help but wonder what you’re up to and type up a message that accidentally seems too much like a booty call. u up? wyd?

haechan who doesn’t have the energy to be his normal self. haechan who is too quiet, blends in with the walls when he’s normally the life of the party. his voice is literally hoarse from crying and begging you to stay for so long. he sends countless messages to you, enough to the point where you blocked him. people wonder where he is only to find out he’s been right next to them the entire time, thoughts consuming him. he spends time overthinking every decision he made in the last six months that led you to break up with him. he can’t find one. it must be him, though. you’d never break up with him without a reason, right? he wasn’t good enough for you, so he has to be better. and with that, he gets off his ass and forces himself into the conversation. he will be better, for you.

jaemin who is so mature when you bring it up. jaemin who doesn’t cry or act like he’s upset about it in front of others. people think he never loved you with the way he acts. that couldn’t be far from the truth. the only way he’ll grieve over your relationship is in his room, alone, with his babies. he accepts your decision, but the what if’s consume his thoughts. what if he hadn’t done that one thing you got angry at him for? what if he hadn’t missed your anniversary date? but he knows he was a good boyfriend, too. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get over you, doesn’t want to, but he knows he has to. he can only hope that you two will find each other later in life.

chenle who fights harder than he’s ever fought. chenle who wants to work it out. ultimately, you win. he cannot help but be a little bit pissed on how difficult you’re being, how you refuse to talk it out and avoid him. he doesn’t even know what happened. he doesn’t think you’re going to stay broken up so he doesn’t even bother shedding a tear. he thinks it’ll be something you two will laugh and then bicker about in fifty years. thinks you’re trying to make him jealous when you try to move on, and it works. doesn’t think before finally cornering you. he gave you your space, now it’s time for you to give him the answers he wants.

jisung who doesn’t understand the concept of space. jisung who has attachment issues. he’ll text you “good morning” and “good night” and tell you about his day without thinking about it because it’s like a routine for him by now. feels so bad and accidentally makes you feel bad for him with his countless apologies. will tweet about you on his priv and forget you’re still on there. doesn’t even want to think about you moving on, and him moving on is out of the question. he truly thought you were his soulmate, but he wanted you to come back to him in your own terms. he’ll spend forever making it up to you, anyway.

[emotional-piece-of-meat]

Thinking about batboys doing average father-son activities with Bruce.

Dick and Bruce go shopping. Alfred did, does and, probably, will do it until the end of time, but since Dick lives in Blüdhaven he prefers to do it by himself. Sometimes Bruce offers help, sometimes Dick accepts it. At such moments, Dick lets Bruce pay and completely enjoys his nepo baby life. Bruce still doesn't know the value of money and can't estimate the cost of groceries, Dick still likes being wheeled around on a cart. He barely fits in there and the rest of the customers look at them weirdly, but Bruce has been used to close attention and has never been able to turn Dick down. They recklessly rush through the departments while new articles about the eccentric Brucie appear in the newspapers, then both get scolded by Alfred for buying all sorts of useless junk.

Jason and Bruce read together. Wayne's library is one of a few places in the mansion where Jason appears regularly and willingly. They don't even talk, just sit in one room, mostly in silence, punctuated by snorting or brief comments. Bruce has a lot of books he planned to read but always put off, so he uses this time to good advantage. Jason acknowledges his existence with a slight nod and on good days sits closer, almost enough to be in Bruce's space. Jason often rereads books, writes notes on transparent stickers that Alfred gave him and chews a pencil, thinking. Sometimes Bruce finds books on the table in his office, the same transparent sticker invariably says "You would like it" with a postscript in smaller letters at the bottom "or not, I don't care". Bruce always smiles softly, adding it to the top of his list.

Tim and Bruce go to the skate park. They both wear sunglasses and casual clothes, but those few parents who come with children still whisper to each other. For the first few times it's kind of awkward, Bruce is unsure what to do and Tim isn't used to attention from his parents, but they cope. Bruce ruffles Tim's hair, enjoying the way his eyes light up, and tries his best not to jump up every time Tim falls. He wears a protective gear set, Bruce insisted, and they both know that Red Robin has been through the worst, but Bruce has little control over the mother hen regime. In the evening, coming home, they buy ice cream and coffee for the night extracurricular activities, and if Tim pretends to be asleep while Bruce carries him out of the car, no one mentions it.

Damian and Bruce go to the cinema. Damian isn't used to pop-culture, and Dick is convinced that this tragedy should be solved. Damian says it's a senseless waste of time and he has more significant stuff to do, but always looks forward to these days. It's mostly cartoons, ideally with animals in the main roles. Damian loves cartoons, and he is less ashamed of admitting it when Bruce says he loves them too. They eat something that Alfred would disapprove of, stay for a short time after the credits and constantly walk home by foot. Damian doesn't ask for uppies, he would never, Bruce picks him up and puts him on his shoulders anyway. Damian likes to be on high, for Bruce it's not even a workout, just a warm-up weight and he tries not to think bitterly that he isn't able to do this with his other children anymore. Sometimes they talk quietly, sometimes just enjoy each other's company. Sometimes Damian falls asleep, knowing perfectly well his father won't let him fall, and Bruce holds him tightly to not let him down.

It's weirdly cozy for their life, almost normal. It's not better, they would choose vigilante life anyway, they already did, but it's nice to feel from time to time. They appreciate it, even if they don't say it out loud.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Lovers in Arms (Living Armor x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Knight x Living Armor (He/Him)

Genre:Fantasy, Established Relationship, Slight Exhibitionism

Warnings: None

Word Count:1507 words

Summary: As a famous knight, you’re quite used to receiving unwanted attention from others, romantic or not. Your partner, however, has found another way of coping with it.

Request: Hear me out a female knight x living Armor. Outside is very protective plate armor but the inside is a sticky, slimy mass of tendrils. When she is out fighting everything is normal but when she is talking with people and doing errands is when it starts to become hard to ignore. Doesn't help that the armor dirty talks and praises her while its fondling and screwing her. They both have a great relationship.

“I don’t like this man.”

“I’m aware.” You mumble under your breath, feeling the way Rust squirms and wriggles against your skin, a tell-tale sign of his annoyance. It’s a far cry from his usual movements, which have a way of syncing perfectly to your limbs, slipping right into the natural crevices. “But he’s willing to pay for this next campaign, so we gotta suck up a bit.”

You’d normally not speak so freely with Rust like this, but the man of discussion, some lord or something, is talking about himself so loudly you doubt he notices.

“I’ve heard much about your past battles, good knight! When I saw you would be leading this battalion, I knew I had to come and meet you.” You nod along, used to the simple back and forths of these sorts of conversations. You play the part, stroke their egos, and your knights and squires have full bellies and well-maintained equipment for the rest of their next mission. It’s embarrassing, but worth it. “I must say too, you are much more…beautiful than I expected, captain.”

You internalize a groan, your armor shuddering as Rust’s tentacles tense up.

This happens a lot too.

“I mean not to offend but when I first heard of your epic tales, I thought ‘surely someone so accomplished can’t also be attractive.’ And yet you-” The lord bites his lip in what he mist thinks is charming, “-have enchanted me.”

You muster your best flattered grin, despite the way your stomach sours.

“Thank you, my lord. I assure you the feeling is mu- hngh!” Blood nearly draws from thr forceful bite against your lip, a moan nearly clawing its way out of you mouth. The lord’s eyebrows shoot up. “E-excuse me. I think some of my old battle scars are-” another breathy sigh, your cheeks growing hot, “-acting up. I apologize.”

You don’t stay to hear the lord's worried questions and sympathies, instead running to your tent. You pass by drinking soldiers and courtiers, all celebrating your last victory. None spare a look at their serious captain, knowing how often you retreat your quarters. Surely to look over battle strategies and war routes, always the hard worker.

“F-fuck, Rust.” You pant, nearly collapsing once you reach your bed. The appendage currently circling your clit stops, your cunt aching from the lack of stimulation. “You have to stop doing that.”

“And why should I?” Rust's smug voice echoes in your helm. “Not like that buffon would’ve noticed. Pigheaded, ignorant fool, flirting with you-”

This was a common occurrence as well. Something about military success and captain’s armor has a way of drawing people’s attention, several nobles looking to leech off of the prestige of courting you. While you’ve perfected a method of deflection, seeming humble yet appreciative, Rust can’t help but seeth whenever they start sweet talking. His jealousy comes to a head, all the sass and the passion all bursting out like a broken dam. You’re usually able go escape somewhere private before it becomes too overwhelming, but there have been times you struggle to finish your sentence because of the tentacles fucking you like a piston, his low voice whispering laviscious that echoe in your ears.

“You’re an immaculate treasure, captain. They don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t know when you look more beautiful, on the battlefield or cumming on my tentacles.”

“Cum for me, Captain.”

You learn to give a grated smile, utter an excuse about your old injuries, and hobble away while cum runs down your legs in rivulets.

It can get a little frustrating, but in this moment, you can't say you hate the effect jealousy has on him.

“Forget about him.” You collapsed onto your bed, all thoughts of reprimanding Rust fading from mind. The only need at the forefront of your mind is lust, your body craving the taste of pleasure. “It’s just us now.”

If he could, Rust would surely be smirking.

“That's right. As it should be.” Rust’s voice rumbles all across your body, accompanied by the familiar slipping of his tentacles, all slotting into place. One slides right between your pussy lips, now slick, and resumes circling your clit. “Just you and I, together.”

Your head is thrown back in a moan, helm falling off and letting your hair lie loose. Rust’s inner body only extends to your chestplate, his voice now echoing off your collar and into your ear.

“Yes, pretty girl. Such pretty noises.” Two tentacles encircle your breasts, squeezing and fondling. “My gorgeous captain” The metal shakes with Rust’s purrs, plate joints rubbing against each other as all the tentacles move. “Hmm, I love the way this pussy tastes after a long battle.”

“Rust.” You whine, hand thrown over your face as a hot blush spreads up your neck.

“What? Its true.” A tip of a tentacle prods at your entrance, dancing around it like a tease. “The sweat that drips down between your thighs, your sweet juices…” That tapered tip slowly enters your whole, tabtalizinignly slow, “It’s addictive.”

A shaky sigh is muffled by your palm, your legs instinctively spreading wide as the tentacle stretches you open. Lines of ridges along the side scrape against your walls, sending shocking bolts across your stomach. Your free hand digs into your blankets.

“Divine.” Rust moans, two limbs pressing your breasts together as another slots in between them. The tentacle inside burns as it reaches its girthiest part, the tip now curled against your g-spot. “If those fools ever saw you like this, captain, they’d know how out of their league you are.”

“Aah!” Your hand becomes a fist and you bite down on your knuckles, Rust finally starting to thrust inside of you. In private he likes to take his sweet time setting the pace, unraveling you like a gift.

“I want you to sing for me, general.”

“Oh, fu-uck.” You draw out your vowels, back arching as the tentacles around your nipples twist even tighter. The ones deep in your pussy go frustratingly slow, drawing out to the tip before pressing you open again. “Rust.”

If your enemies could see you now; The fierce Captain of the Crimson Brigade, whose command brought countless victories for the crown, who never rested until the fight was one, begging like a common whore. Your voice all high and needy, so different from the gruff persona you put on when shouting orders.

On the battlefield, you and Rust are all business. Everything clicks, your two bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, throwing javelins and wielding a greatsword with ease. You’re the perfect pair; You bring the technique, he brings the strength, and together you can bring down titans. A force to be reckoned with, that bows to no one.

But it can be exhausting. All those decisions, life-changing decisions, are in your hands. You are the face of this operation, after all, and any missteps reflect on your leadership, no one else's.

So what's wrong with handing the reins over, every once in a while? Let someone set the pace, move your body for you. Let you be the obedient soldier, following the lead.

“Good girl.” Rust purse, and all those troubles from before melting away.

Your thighs fight to clench together as he begins fucking you faster, vision blurring as he hits your g-spot with precision. The merriment of celebration and drunken victory outside are loud enough to drown your wanton noises. Let them have their image of their general, let them have the person you pretend to be on the battlefield. These noises are for Rust, and only Rust.

“I���m getting close.” Your lips quiver, the skin nearly worn thin from your incessant biting. “Please, Rust.”

“How could I ever say no to you, Captain?” A second tentacle slips inside you, joining its twin and thrusting in you like a well-oiled machine. A gaso claws its way out of your throat, hips jumping from the burning stretch. “Especially when you ask so nicely.”

The tentacles twist together, writing against your walls. Your eyes roll back into your head as a buzzing sensation travels up from your core to your face, like you're starting to go numb.

“Oh, gods!” You cry out as the crescendo finally hits, pussy clenching the tentacles in a vice. All of Rust’s appendages shudder, a sultry groan echoing out of your collar.

The armor feels hot, almost too hot as you lay in the end, the high of climaxing slowly fading. Sweat drips down your entire body, loving tentacles lapping them up eagerly. Words still escape you, your thoughts a jumbled mess of sensations and emotions. You should really take a shower, shed Rust and clean him as well, but everything is sore, and your brain calls for sleep.

“Rest, my captain. We can bathe in the morning.”

Rust whispers, low tone only pulling you further into unconsciousness.

In the soft embrace of your lover, you can fall asleep peacefully. No thoughts of battles, or blood, or death. Just the two of you, as always.

[flowerandblood]

Glass Cuts Deepest Epilogue

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, trauma, mention of sexual harassment and panic attacks, the power of fluff ]

[ description: Aemond and Wright have a year of their relationship behind them, full of joy, but also difficult situations for them, related to demons from his past. Despite this, they find their own ways to live normally and happily. Aemond, jealous that Cregan is now her professor, decides to find out if the girl who changed his life still loves him. Sexual tension, childhood traumas and sweet fluff. ]

This oneshot is the events that take place one year after Glass Cuts Deepest Series. This is a special chapter written to celebrate my one year on this platform, which falls on March 22.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

When a year had passed since he and Wright had officially announced that they were together, he was relieved to find that his panic attacks had almost disappeared, and if they did occur, they no longer involved vomiting and convulsions, causing only discomfort and a feeling of tightness in his stomach.

Wright was perfectly capable of recognising its symptoms, spotting instantly when he froze or turned pale, not touching him at the time, just asking quietly if he needed a moment alone or if he would like her to embrace him.

More and more often he wanted to simply cuddle up to her, so he would then ask her to let him, but not to touch him herself. He would then draw her close and sink his face into her neck, taking in her wonderful scent, listening to her breathing until he calmed down.

"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled then, ashamed that, as usual, he thought he had got it over with, that it was so good after all. He fought then against the grim thoughts that he would never be normal, that she had to live with someone who didn't cope, who was constantly afraid.

"− don't apologise −" She whispered softly, resting her cheek on his head, playing with the fingers of her hand, waiting patiently for him to be able to function normally again.

"− I'm glad that now when you feel unwell, you don't feel discomfort when I'm close − it's very important to me −" She said warmly, kissing his hair, and he felt his muscles relax slowly − the fact that she never made sudden movements, never tried to embrace him against his will, made him feel safe.

She respected the fact that he knew for himself what was good for him and what he needed, and she never forced him into anything − on the contrary, she always carefully studied his barriers.

Once when she showed him a picture of a nightgown, finding it lovely and pretty, white, lacy and strapless, of slippery, shiny material − he turned pale and shook his head quickly, looking away, seeing her enter his room then, what she was wearing was all too similar in his mind, a cold sweat on his back.

"− oh, I'm sorry − I won't show you this kind of things anymore − I just − I'd like to buy myself some nice pyjamas − the kind you'd like −" She muttered, looking up at him, turning on the couch − he sighed quietly, rubbing her bare legs that rested on his thighs.

"− I like it when you wear my Tshirts − nothing turns me on more −" He hummed, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her blush as she lay dressed in his black shirt covering her thighs − he knew she had nothing but panties underneath, just the way he liked it.

"− oh −" She mumbled quietly, embarrassed, pretending to scroll something further on her phone.

Since he had left the university and focused on his own studio, he felt that the immense frustration that had been with him all those years, of having to deal with strange women, having to constantly explain his decisions and apologise for the way he was, had left him.

In his new workshop, more spacious and brighter than the one he had worked in before, he felt free, and the only girl who was allowed inside was Wright.

Sometimes he couldn't help himself and would ask her how Cregan was doing in his job, seeing that she was progressing more and more each month, jealous that now someone else was her professor − she was spending a lot of time in class which was hard for him to come to terms with after they had spent so much time in each other's company up to that point.

"He is a really good teacher. He has a lot of patience and explains complicated things so that they seem simple, or he shows us something by doing it himself and we can watch." She said lightly, standing beside him, helping him cut out templates for his new commission, which he was working on with some of his former students he had hired. He hit the side of her cheek with the tip of his tongue, impatient for some reason.

"That's good." He replied dispassionately, feeling her cast him a quick glance upon hearing the tone of his voice, leaning lower to bend forward and look at his face.

"Are you jealous, Professor?" She hummed softly and he pressed his lips together, recognising that he hadn't given a shit, that he'd wanted to do this for a long time.

She squealed quietly as he grabbed her by the arm and turned her around facing the backlit table − his hands slid her panties down in a swift, sure movement, leaving her in a state of shock, his hand on the nape of her neck forced her to bend over. The material of her dress lifted slightly, revealing her naked buttocks − he noticed out of the corner of his eye her puffy entrance, glistening from her wetness.

She was his Eve, and although neither of them had ever completely undressed, and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to do so or endure such a sight without the memories overwhelming him, the sight of her partial nudity no longer frightened him, for her body was his temple, pure, warm and safe.

"− I've been thinking about this ever since I met you − you don't even know how many times I've stood over you barely restraining myself from fucking you good on a table like this −" He breathed out, quickly unzipping his trousers, lowering them a tad once with his boxers, not waiting a moment, forcing the swollen head of his cock between her swollen, weeping folds.

"− wider − that's it − fuck − are you okay? −" He muttered, casting her an uncertain look after he thrust deeper into her, sliding all the way in, her tight walls resisting him as he hadn't prepared her for this as well as usual.

"− y-yes − keep going − just − take it slow −" She mumbled softly, and he hummed under his breath, leaning down, placing his hands on either side of her on the backlit top of his table on which he usually cut glass, his lips pressed against her long, perfumed neck as his hips began to rock slowly inside her, barely sliding out of her without any rush, letting her walls get used to his size.

"− so warm − fuck, baby −" He gasped out, hearing her first shy moans, feeling his cock slide into her with increasing ease, slick with her moisture, her muscles began to throb around him, squeezing him − he looked down, watching as he opened her wide with deep, sure thrusts of his hips.

"− please, Professor − please −" She mewled and he sighed loudly; she knew how it affected him, she knew how much it aroused him − he involuntarily picked up his pace, his thighs began to slam against her buttocks with loud splats, all around them just their panting and the sticky clicks of her leaking wetness.

"− you have no shame − begging for your Professor's cock − is this how you got good grades at university? huh? − you like it when they fuck you well? −" He sneered, clamping his hands over her bare buttocks, letting go of control completely, allowing his subconscious to take over him and his movements, his pushes faster and more aggressive, rubbing her where she needed it. She leaned back on her palms against the table top, responding to his thrusts by rocking her hips, her hot, wet muscles sucking him inside with her moans of delight.

"− n-no − I work so hard −" She muttered frightened, as if some part of her really believed he could think that about her − he chuckled under his breath, running his hand through her hair, pounding into her so fast and deep that he was no longer sliding out of her with loud slaps of skin against skin.

"− I can see how hard you're working − how much it costs you to fit it in −" He scoffed, and she whimpered at his words, responding more and more eagerly to his thrusts, his knee spreading her thighs wider, forcing her to bend over again with her loud gasp of exertion.

"− I-I'm sorry − I promise I'll be good already, I promise, I promise, I promise −" She mewled, moaning low as he felt her muscles begin to throb in orgasm, her body arching backwards. He embraced her around the waist, his other hand gripping her cheeks, his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, greedy, hot kiss as, after a few sloppy, messy thrusts, he came deep inside her with a heavy sigh of delight.

"− I know − my sweet little girl, am I right? −" He gasped, panting loudly along with her, embracing her tightly from behind, nuzzling his cheek against hers, her hands clasped around his arms, stroking them steadily, his half-hard manhood still twitching deep inside her.

"− yes −" She mumbled, burying her face in his cheek, as she always did after their rapprochement, needing his closeness and the tenderness he never denied her.

"− you don't think of him that way, do you? −" He asked quietly, ashamed of his insecurity, of his own fear and imaginings, of the fact that someone else, someone better could easily take his place at her side when he needed her so much, loved her so much.

"− oh, no, silly − I never felt anything like that before you − I think I was in love with you long before I realised it −" She said warmly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, a sweet, girlish smile full of tenderness on her lips that melted his heart, his confirmation that all was well.

"− yes − yes, me too −" He murmured, leaning lower, placing warm, wet kisses on her face. He began to wonder intensely if the ring he had chosen for her, which lay tucked deep in one of his drawers where he kept his designs was still there, and if he would be a complete idiot to propose to her now.

After a moment he decided that yes, he would be a complete idiot and sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily under his breath, sliding out of her gently. He helped her put her panties back on over her buttocks, then zipped up his trousers, looking at her out of the corner of his eye − she turned to face him, all red from exertion, her eyes big, her breathing still slightly accelerated.

"Take me today to the church where you first saw the stained glass windows. You told me that story once, I think you mentioned that your father took you there." He said softly and she blinked, curious, cocking her head, leaning her palms against the edge of the table.

"Alright, why not, Professor. Where did you suddenly get this idea?" She asked cheerfully, excitedly, and he snorted under his breath.

"You'll see."

[hispg]

Safe haven

Pairings: Leon x Reader

Wc:4.0k

Summary: How Leon deals with his ptsd over the years.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, depressive thoughts, suicidal intent, Leon hating himself.

An: This one follows the cannon order, so it starts with r2 Leon, r4, r6, vendetta, ends with Death Island.

Denial

Since Leon returned from Raccoon City, nothing has been the same. You've seen the man you knew die day after day, his personality changing like water to wine. And he knew it, he knew it better than anyone.

You still remember perfectly when he arrived, covered in blood, with a bandage on his arm, a face with the most terrified expression you could imagine.

The horrors he had witnessed in that place were simply out of this world. What should have been a simple first day at work turned into a living hell. There were things he wouldn't erase from his memory, the way he had to kill all his co-workers, the way he saw everyone around him die. He felt bad, guilty, even though he had no control over it.

It was a lot for one person, a lot for him to process.

A night that would mark him for the rest of his life.

In order not to involve you too much in the subject, he never went into too much detail, just briefly saying something or other. But you could imagine, the way his fear was clear on his face, his lips trembling every time he tried to talk to you about what had happened.

You saw the way he woke up every night, covered in a layer of sweat, whimpering and almost screaming in his room. He never slept properly, always woke up in a state of sheer panic, and it only got worse as time went on. It wasn't something he could control, not even he himself could believe that he had come out of that nightmare alive.

And he often wished he hadn't.

All he forced himself to believe was that it would be something momentary, an event that he would forget or at least get better with the passage of time.

But it didn't.

He beat himself up every day, unable to forget a single second of that night. He could have helped more, he could have done more, maybe he could have saved more people.

Deep down, he knew it was impossible. A simple situation where a hundred were sacrificed to save one.

There were days when he couldn't even leave the house, and he also begged you to stay with him. A panic attack that haunted him almost daily, he needed you to be there. At least he knew you would be safe by his side, and he needed you, as if you were the air he breathed.

All this was due to the fact that he couldn't cope on his own, if you didn't sleep next to him every night, he wouldn't even try to close his eyes. Because he knew he wouldn't be able to doze off for a single moment, not that he'd ever get a good night's sleep.

He often refused, refused to believe that it was real, refused to believe that it had ever happened. But every time he closed his eyes and heard the screams of agony echoing in his head, he remembered the painful reality.

It was almost customary for him to try to recover from everything he had experienced, to lift his face, wipe away the tears and force an expression from someone who was fine.

But you and he knew it was just a lie.

Everything took a turn for the worse when he was interrogated and basically forced to work for the government. It was a 'deal', he would work for the government in exchange for the little girl safety, a little girl called Sherry, who he found and saved in the middle of the chaos that night.

Although he didn't want to, he didn't think it was fair to let a girl as young as her suffer in a laboratory, maybe it was crazy to compromise his life for someone he barely knew. But that was him, the guy who put others before himself. So he accepted the 'agreement'.

He just wanted to be someone normal, to forget about that damn trauma, to forget about the pain of that night and to put all those events behind him.

But he couldn't, and maybe he wasn't ready for that fact.

The Leon of before no longer existed, maybe a small sketch left, but he would never be able to get back on his feet and be like before.

Never.

Anger

Leon's life began to turn upside down even more, after the hell that happened in Raccoon City, he was forced to go to military training, supposedly to serve the government. Even years after what happened, the night was still incredibly vivid in his mind. Every detail was stagnant in his memory, a mark he couldn't remove.

All he felt now was anger, all hidden in that sullen face that had become his usual expression. He hid behind it, hoping you wouldn't notice how cold and indifferent he was becoming. It was the only way to protect himself that he found.

And he hated that things were this way.

What he didn't expect was that he would become an agent working for the President. Everything that had already happened to him was enough, and he still seemed to be getting worse and worse.

Like a bottomless pit, he just fell lower and lower.

At this point he no longer cared about much, he was becoming more and more stressed with work and that damn training.

You lost count of how many times he came home scratched, bruised, with some part of his body purple. One time he even arrived with a broken rib, and he didn't even try to explain to you what had happened.

He just did his bandages silently, with your help. And he didn't even say a single word about it, and you worried like crazy. You didn't even know if he would arrive in one piece the next day.

It wasn't difficult to assimilate all the abuse he was suffering in that place, you had already heard a few times the way some of his training partners spoke to him on the phone. They weren't friendly at all.

All he did was hide what he felt with that sulky face, more and more you saw him becoming closed off. It was rare that he talked about his training, or his day.

Even he had become increasingly discreet about his nightmares, or even his anxiety attacks. He always thought he could handle it on his own, it was his problem. That he had learned to cope, or at least he thought he had.

Because it was the same story as always. Just a man doing what he hated, reliving the past and charting a hateful future.

And that couldn't be avoided.

And well, nothing got better when he was called to a mission in Spain, looking for the President's daughter. He didn't feel excited about the situation at all, he didn't even want to go. However, there wasn't much of an option.

He tried to warn you, in fact he didn't warn you, he just said he was going to Spain, just like that.

It wasn't hard to imagine that this caused a small fight between you, since he could at least tell you what it was about. But he didn't say.

"Don't pressure me, don't even try to look into things that's not your business." Leon hisses at you, turning his back and leaving you behind with tears in your eyes. All you heard after was the door slamming, and he disappeared for a few days.

Surely he knew the shit he had done, and every moment that passed he felt his heart tighten. His anxiety reaching its worst peaks. As he began to understand what was happening in that old village, he felt terror wash over him once again. The fear of not being able to return terrified him, he doesn't even know how he managed to stay upright in the face of all that.

He felt trapped in a nightmare again.

Another hell, he didn't even know that he would go through a situation similar to Raccoon City again, but to his displeasure it happened. Once again he doesn't know how he came out alive, he was terrified of witnessing death several times in a row. The only thing he thought about was going home, he needed a place to call home. And he needed you, in a way he couldn't put into words. So many words he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do, especially seeing more people around him die. After having done everything he did to survive.

He needed someone.

Everything he had planned to tell you went down the drain as soon as he got home, the first thing he saw was you lying on the sofa, wearing one of his shirts.

It didn't take long for him to take off his boots, and walk towards you, he was shabby, a complete mess. It was no surprise.

He gently gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, so as not to wake you, and sat down on the floor next to you. He intended to spend the night there, as he certainly wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how hard he tried.

With his fists clenched, his face set, a strange feeling running through his body. Once again he felt like it was a tantrum, but it wasn't.

A single tear wet his cheeks, followed by several others.

And then he realized, the reality of the facts caught up with him.

And the terrifying feeling returned.

Understanding

A few more painful years passed, and it was indeed optimistic to say that things had improved. It was as if everything was exhausting, he couldn't have fun with the things he liked.

As if his life was in a loop where he couldn't stop, he couldn't get out of it. It just kept going again and again, it shouldn't be like this.

But was.

It wasn't hard to notice how grumpy he had become. He was no longer someone of many words, and now he was even more closed off. If it was possible.

The grown beard that only showed how disinterested he was in his own appearance. He was at a point where he barely looked at himself in the mirror, his dark blond strands falling down his face. And he didn't even bother to trim his hair and leave it the way he liked it.

He didn't even look in the mirror, he hated every time he saw his own reflection. He learned to hate every one of his scars, every mark that remained from his missions, he hated with all of his heart. It was an otherworldly aversion, he shouldn't feel this way about himself, but that didn't matter. Not now.

He learned to hate himself.

He hated the way that even after all these years his traumas still haunted him, the way he still had those terrible nightmares. He hated the way he treated you, so cold and distant.

So different from what he once was.

Since it all started in Raccoon City, he always knew that the part of the soul he lost there he would never recover. But he didn't imagine things would be this bad.

It was as if no moment was good, as if everything revolved around his work and the problems that came with it. He became such a focused person that he would sometimes go days without showering, with his hair all messy and his face completely tired. From someone who hadn't had rest in days. And that person was exactly him.

He would often make minimal effort to talk to you, try to start a conversation and tell you how his day was going. But who said he could? The poor man got so used to keeping things to himself that sharing it was complicated.

The words tumbled in his mouth, he couldn't form a sentence that made any sense and didn't sound desperate. But he failed as soon as he said the first word, and just ended up changing the subject.

Therefore, he learned that nothing would be the same as before, even after all these years in which he hoped that things would change, for the better. But to his chagrin this didn't happen, and everything went downhill.

He tried his best to come to terms with all of this, since he was already someone who had seen a lot, and had already done a lot as well. But that didn't stop him from feeling bad, from feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

And it wasn't?

At that point he ignored what he felt, if he was called to a mission he would simply go, even though he was extremely upset about the matter. Because in those moments he realized that he was just an object of the government.

A powerful weapon that was capable of stopping the crap that happened here or there, and that was it. Just it.

Nothing more than a weapon.

What else could he expect? The turn things took only made the government's intentions clear, and he didn't approve at all. He was always against it, but who said he was listened to?

He had already accepted this, a cruel fate from which he had little option of escaping. He had already dealt with it.

He forced himself to believe those words.

All he could do was hate himself more and more, every time he came home tired and saw you, his heart broke.

How did he still have you by his side? How the hell was such a sweet person still willing to stay by his side. It wasn't fair.

He deserved to be alone.

Day after day he found himself looking for things to get rid of the bitterness that his life had become, what he found was drinking.

One of the few things that let him breathe, even if just for a few hours. It started slowly, but he needed to increase it.

It was an obligation, it was either that or get home and feel like the worst person in the world. This addiction started slowly, in a subtle way.

However, it then got out of control, and once again he found himself in his worst state.

"There's no turning back.." A whisper coming from him, drunk and completely out of his mind.

His life was a dead end, and he had no hope that it would get better.

Another day of remorse, another day living in his shoes.

Depression

The only consolation he found now was drinking, at least it helped the pain go away for a moment. Even though at some point he had to increase the doses more and more, he needed it to take effect.

If at any point he had tried to have some closeness with you back, that had ended in the last few months. He couldn't even take care of himself, let alone take care of you.

He was a different man, and not in a good way.

At that point he already accepted that he had lost himself, that he no longer had salvation, his mind was torturing him.

It was suffering just to be alive.

The fact that he always lost people around him, that he had to kill his own team because he wasn't able to save them. How the hell was he supposed to survive with this? How could he say everything was fine?

Everything around him was dying, like he had a curse around him or something. Not even he wanted to understand this. The weight of the years he lived in this torture was catching up to him.

And nothing could be done, once again.

The nightmares, the weight on his conscience, the memory of each of the missions. It was an unhealthy cycle he was trapped in.

Certainly an addiction wouldn't solve the situation, but what would? Pay nicely as always? Hold his head up and follow orders like a puppy?

"Piece of shit." That's what he mutters when he sees himself in the reflection of his cell phone, disappointed with the way everything is happening. How he was dealing with all of this. His appearance was different, hair more swept to the side, a longer beard. Clothes that not even he knew he would wear at some point.

But what would be the other way? How?

Disappointment, anger, depression, all mixed up in his head. He didn't know what he should do with these bottled up feelings that were haunting him day after day.

All the missions, all the people he lost, everything he experienced. How could someone go through so much like that?

How could he have gone through this and still somehow moved on?

This time he didn't even bother trying to hide from you the displeasure he had created for life, he rarely spent time at home, and when he did it was all day grumbling or drinking.

A great guilt invaded him when you cried because nothing you tried to do seemed to help, but this wasn't about you.

It was about him.

His mood only worsened when Chris called him to another mission, actually it wasn't really a call, more like a statement that he was going to another mission.

This was his life for the last few years, mission after mission, without even a moment for himself, not that he was going to do anything other than drink in the meantime.

What could have happened special this time? Another mission where he comes close to death several times, where he simply doesn't know if he'll return home in one piece. And he could swear he didn't care about it or not.

At least he thought so.

But perhaps the fact of working with people close to him this time made him see that things could be worth it again. Although it wasn't the friendliest place to think this, he couldn't deny that it gave him some comfort since he worked with people he knew, especially Chris, who was one of the few people he liked at work. Despite grumbling a lot.

He appreciated the fact that things ended well this time, for the first time in a long time.

There was still a little light in the good things, in the little daily things. Sometimes things didn't always have a bad ending.

The people around him wouldn't always fade away or betray him, that wouldn't always be the course of things.

Maybe now he was ready to start improving a little, maybe yes, maybe no. He would only know if he tried.

Once the madness of the mission was over, all he could think about was you, he could only think about seeing you one more time after everything that had happened. It was a desire so big that it couldn't fit in his chest.

You can bet he was counting the minutes until he got home, he needed to feel your presence again. He needed to know that he had people who were there for him.

He needed your comfort, your reassurance.

Once he got home the first thing he did was look for you, it was more than a desire, it was a need.

Without you even realizing it, you see him leaning against the kitchen counter, with an almost unremarkable smile. You even surprise yourself, since it had been a good few months since you had seen even a trace of a happy expression on his face.

"I'm back.." He says in a whisper, looking at you gently for the first time in a while.

You look at him a little hesitantly, wanting to give him a hug, not knowing if he wanted that or not.

A simple gesture but one that made your day, he opened his arms to you, waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Without a shadow of a doubt he needed this as much as you did.

Maybe there's still a way out. Maybe there is still a way.

Acceptance

Leon was trying, he was trying his best to be a better man. You could tell that, the way he was cutting back on alcohol, the way he was trying to be more attentive to you.

These little things indicated an effort on his part, he didn't want to hate himself anymore, he didn't want to feel so indifferent anymore. Maybe it was time for a change, he didn't need to be like this anymore.

He had people he could count on, and after all, he had you. That even after his coldness in recent years, you never left him, it was time to reciprocate.

And of course there were things he couldn't let go of so easily, especially his problems with trauma, and he already knew that it was a weight he would carry for the rest of his life.

He would never forget.

But he was also trying to learn not to be like that anymore, things could still have a good side. He could still have hope, even if it was a mere drop. Life had been hard on him from the beginning, but he needed to find some motivation. He couldn't live regretting forever, putting himself down every time.

It was time to rise again, time to pick up the pieces and rebuild. Little by little, and of course he would never be the same as before. But he could be a better person, and he would do everything he could to make that happen. You could notice this drastic change even more, since he came back from the last mission, he was different. So proof is that, as soon as he got home he hugged you, and spent a good ten minutes like that.

Probably feeling overwhelmed with yet another mission, duties that seemed to never end. But he wouldn't think about that now.

He wanted to try to be happy. At least one attempt.

Small efforts, for example trying to open up to you, saying few things, but it was a great start. He knew that if he continued like this he would be able to share his problems with you, it certainly wouldn't weigh so much on him if he could share them with you.

His mind was still a mess, but he was trying to organize himself, put his thoughts in order. It was a long and difficult road, but he wanted to bet that he would make it.

It was the glimmer of hope he had.

Leon now went out with you, took you for rides on his motorbike. He begins to realize that life could go beyond work, that not everything needs to be so bad.

You could see him smiling more, he had even gone back to making those corny jokes that never failed to make you laugh. Most importantly, he seemed content, sometimes even at peace with himself.

The desire he had to disappear, little by little was fading, and he began to gain a little more zest for life. Things wouldn't always go wrong, and he could relax a little, even try to let his guard down whenever possible.

Even once you caught him laughing like a fool on his cell phone, only to see him having fun watching a video of a dog, which in his eyes was incredibly funny.

Seeing this, you decide to give him a pet on his birthday. And you almost cried once you saw the joy in his eyes, that sparkle in his eyes that you missed so much.

"I love you." A shy and low voice, accompanied by the most beautiful smile you've ever seen. How long has it been since you last heard this? The sweet way the phrase slid across his lips. A moment so subtle but so sweet, and one that you hoped would be repeated more and more.

Life was worth it, he would make it worth it again.

[beguines]

Similarly, it is more than coincidence that the 1980s and 1990s saw the rise of self-help culture and the turn of psychological and counselling professionals towards "positive psychology" and "positive thinking". Laid thick with the values of neoliberalism, the discourse of "positive mental health" no longer focuses primarily on bringing the "insane" back to some state of normality but rather on the self-improvement of the individual. It is no longer enough to be "sane" or "normal"; one has to be constantly striving to be more positive and happier in life. This is a therapeutic quest which perfectly aligns with the neoliberal philosophy of personal responsibility and the need to constantly improve the self. It is a hegemonic discourse, thinly veiled as a therapeutic and medical expertise on the mind which promotes the values and goals of neoliberal capital. As Ehrenreich has stated of the "positive thinking" revolution in late capitalism, it promotes a model of deficit focused entirely on the individual:

"If optimism is the key to material success, and if you can achieve an optimistic outlook through the discipline of positive thinking, then there is no excuse for failure. The flip side of positivity is thus a harsh insistence on personal responsibility: if your business fails or your job is eliminated, it must [be] because you didn't try hard enough, didn't believe firmly enough in the inevitability of your success. As the economy has brought more layoffs and financial turbulence to the middle class, the promoters of positive thinking have increasingly emphasized this negative judgment: to be disappointed, resentful, or downcast is to be a 'victim' and a 'whiner.'"

In the same way, psychiatric labels have come to focus on deficits and failings in character which threaten the productivity and consumption activities of the individual in many social and economic arenas of life. Thus, the psychiatric discourse seeks to both depoliticise the fundamental inequalities and structural failings of capitalism as individual coping problems while reinforcing the values of competition and self-improvement as common sense and taken for granted. Speaking similarly of psychotherapy, Parker states that the individual's "'adaptation' to capitalism requires psychotherapists not merely to ameliorate the worst excesses of the system, but to ensure that this adaptation is geared to inciting and channelling the critical reflexive energy of citizens so that the very critique that they make of the economy serves to fine-tune it . . . Thus psychotherapy becomes crucial to the state health apparatus as a practice devoted to the balance of dissatisfaction and yearning requisite for consumption and production."

Bruce M.Z. Cohen, Psychiatric Hegemony: A Marxist Theory of Mental Illness