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#it's a good drink not too overly sweet
alectoperdita · 7 months
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Oh hell, I am all about them drugged confessions. If/whenever you’re up for it. 💕
From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game
Jumped this one ahead in the queue since it's someone's birthday. 💜💜💜 Enjoy, my friend! I hope this has enough of the stuff you dig about them.
13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions
content warnings: referenced non-consensual drug use and mildly spicy because Seto is thirsty
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The city lights stabbed into Seto's eyes. The city's heartbeat—a frantic cacophony of bumper-to-bumper traffic, music spilling out of late-night shops and restaurants, and an overwhelming pulse of humanity—pulsed against the back of his head like a second migraine.
He lifted his heavy head and tried to get a better look at his surroundings. Not an easy feat when the world wouldn't stop spinning. Seto could feel the planet's rotational force itself.
In the sky, a bloated, sickly yellow moon hung on the black canvas, a dim bulb when compared to the Oriental Pearl Tower's neon blue and magenta on the opposite riverbank. The phalanx of lit skyscrapers behind the landmark formed a blinding wall that threatened to lighten the night sky.
No wonder they were sitting at a standstill in traffic. He was in the Bund. Shanghai. He was in Shanghai. Not for the first or second time, but the city's nightlife never failed to overwhelm.
It came back to him in bits and pieces. The Pan-Asia Duel Monsters Championship was in China this year, which KC was a sponsor of, along with a dozen international and domestic corporations. Seto wasn't here to compete, though. He was here to do business and build guanxi.
Which meant night after night of hard drinking and tedious back slapping as Seto endured their patronizing compliments about his passable Mandarin. Endless rounds of maotai until his blood must be 90% alcohol. That was the preferred poison of the old-school elites, the ones who built their wealth on the backs of a rapidly booming economy that outpaced everyone's wildest imagination. Not even Japan had sustained that kind of boom in the post-war years.
Potential liver failure was the price of doing business in this country.
That was last night, though. Seto was sure of that much, even if the passage of time seemed theoretical at best. Tonight, he'd been swept into a gaggle of their children, mainly the sons of the previous night's party officials and business moguls.
The fuerdai. His "peers."
Ha! Gozaburo had handed him nothing. Everything Seto owned, everything he accomplished, was through his own sweat and blood.
Seto will give them one thing: their tastes were decidedly less provincial. While their fathers drank baijiu like fish drinking water, they preferred cocktails, or at least pitchers of iced green tea mixed with Crown Royal.
Maybe that was his first mistake. Maybe he shouldn't have underestimated how fucked up he could get on such a simple mixture.
That was the last thing he could remember. He drew a yawning gap between the afterparty at the club and this taxi cab.
Seto sank into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach lurched. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were stuck in traffic. He might not be able to keep it down in stop-and-go traffic.
An abrasive—a familiar abrasive voice—encroached from the fringes, though. An equally combative voice shot back in a different language.
Seto's head lolled to the side, away from the window and toward the other passenger in the backseat. Reluctantly, he pried his heavy eyelids open. God, why was he so tired? It felt like he'd pulled several all-nighters in a row.
His fellow passenger was Jounouchi, locked in a heated conversation/argument with the cab driver.
Right. Jounouchi was also in Shanghai this week. Except he was here to compete in the tournament. And unlike Seto, he didn't speak a lick of Chinese.
Not that his laughable grasp of English fared any better.
"Fuck, I'm telling ya, it's the other Marriott!" Jounouchi groaned in Japanese, running a frustrated hand through his bird's nest hair. It looked softer than it had any right to be, though. The strands ought to be bleached to hell and back after this many years.
But Jounouchi had been updating his wardrobe and his deck in recent years. Every victory advanced his look and style, and even netted him some media training like someone deserving of media notice, which was why he was playing in the Pan-Asian championship. Seto couldn't ignore him like he once did, like he still tried to in vain sometimes.
(And sometimes, he very much didn't want to ignore Jounouchi, wondering if he could catch the other man's attention in return...)
None of that explained why they were in the same cab, though.
Jounouchi tried again to communicate. It hurt to listen to him butcher English to that extent. The cab driver appeared to grow even more irate, threatening to eject them entirely.
Giggles spilled uncontrollably out of him. Of course! Of course, Jounouchi's incompetence got them stranded on the opposite end of the city from their hotel.
Fortunately, he was a snack to look at, even if his brains were nothing to write home about.
Seto's words croaked out of him, repeating in Mandarin what Jounouchi had been trying to convey. God, why did it hurt so much to speak? But even his drunken slur sufficed, earning a grousing retort from the driver that Seto should've just said so sooner while shooting a death glare at his other passenger through the rearview mirror.
At the sound of Seto's voice, Jounouchi jolted in shock, releasing the driver's headrest he had been clinging to. After several awkward moments of staring, he inched closer to Seto, stopping short of touching him. But the proximity and the tight enclosure made Seto's skin crawl. Not in an unpleasant way, though. His body tingled and felt a touch flushed.
How would Jounouchi's skin feel against his?
"You alright there, Kaiba?" asked Jounouchi, seemingly floating closer. He waved a hesitant hand in Seto's face.
Base urges welled up in him. He wanted to grab Jounouchi's hand and bite it, no better than a dog, as he once mocked the other man for being. Better yet, he could drag his tongue across the rough palm and lap at his knuckles. Suck his thick fingers into his mouth and learn contentment from how they could fill his mouth.
Seto was never drinking green tea mixed with whisky ever again.
He managed a small noise of confirmation before he twisted away, curling as best as he could around the seatbelt. Something like a whimper pushed at the back of his throat, but he refused to release it. He wouldn't humiliate himself any further. Just as he wouldn't crawl across the middle seat and cuddle into Jounouchi's lap.
But god, he wanted that so much it hurt.
A warm hand landed on his back, and he nearly surrendered as Jounouchi rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.
"It's okay." Jounouchi spoke softly, but somehow it rang louder than the many decibels of Shanghai traffic. "We'll be back at the hotel in time. Just hang in there."
Seto spent the rest of the journey folded into himself, wedged firmly against the side of the taxi, trying and failing not to tremble under Jounouchi's caring touch. With a hushed tone, Jounouchi explained what had happened. It was pure coincidence that he ran into Seto and his "party" at that particular club. (Coincidence is giving chance too much credit. There were only so many high-end nightclubs in the city.) Jounouchi had wandered over to say hi before rejoining his own group. But out of the corner of his eyes, he'd noticed that Kaiba was acting unlike himself. In fact, the entire group seemed a bit off.
Seto was coming to his own conclusion before Jounouchi shared his.
Seto had been drugged. And since he knew better than to take random shit handed to him by strangers, it must've been slipped into his drink. Or maybe it was in the communal cocktail pitcher to begin with.
"They were trying to drag you off to someplace else. Don't ask me where. But you didn't look like you wanted to go, so I stepped in," Jounouchi trailed off. He'd yet to remove his hand, but it sat unmoving, a steadying weight on Seto's back helping to ground him to reality.
"I can't imagine they were happy," Seto muttered.
Jounouchi chuckled. "Not one bit. Acted like I was trying to kill the party. One chick threatened me with her stiletto heel."
"My knight in shining armor." Seto found himself laughing, then regretted it when his head throbbed.
"Don't worry, I didn't hit any of 'em. Mighty tempting, though. I just kinda threw you over my shoulder and high-tailed it outta there. That was how I knew you were really outta it. You barely cursed me out."
Heat associated with both shame and arousal rushed through him. It turned out those biceps he secretly admired weren't just for show.
"Finally, we're here!" exclaimed Jounouchi. His hand also regrettably retreated.
Seto watched blearily as Jounouchi overpaid the driver and leaped out the door. He didn't go far, though. He jogged around the vehicle to Seto's side and yanked open the door. As he leaned in and over Seto to undo the seatbelt buckle, the woody scent of Jounouchi's cologne flooded Seto's nostrils. And his strength was plainly evident as he braced his arms around Seto's shoulders and hip.
"Alright, up we go," urged Jounouchi.
Under any sober circumstance, Seto would've never allowed this to happen. To let Jounouchi touch him, especially as a caretaker. But Seto was the farthest thing from sober, fucked up on whatever combination of alcohol and party drugs he had been unwittingly fed. He didn't have the strength to stand on his own two feet.
So he relied on Jounouchi and his strength. Clung to the man's sweat-slicked neck.
The doorman didn't give them a second glance. Why should he? Seto was simply the latest in an endless stream of drunken guests stumbling back into the five-star hotel.
A lobby concierge approached and tried to help, though. Both Jounouchi and Seto waved him off. Jounouchi likely because he didn't want another stressful not-conversation, and Seto didn't want anyone but Jounouchi touching him right now.
"Hey, what floor?" Jounouchi asked after propping him against the wall of the elevator carriage.
Seto patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his wallet. He didn't expect the fuerdai to rob him blind like a common mugger, but you never knew. He tossed the leather wallet to Jounouchi and croaked, "Key card."
The tournament competitors were provided with single-bed guest rooms. Seto, on the other hand, occupied the Vice Presidential Suite for the week. Their elevator shot toward the top floors, bypassing the dozens of floors between the ground and the suites.
As they ascended, Seto snuck covert glances at the other hand. Despite the air conditioning running at full blast, Jounouchi was still huffing and sweating. Who could blame him? Summer in Shanghai could be blistering.
"Can you walk?" asked Jounouchi when the elevator doors finally parted.
Struck muted, Seto shook his head. His heart raced as Jounouchi wrapped a burly arm around his waist, and together, they hobbled down the hall to the suite's door.
The lights flicked on automatically as they entered, drawing an impressed whistle from Jounouchi as he took in the room.
"Yeah, guess I should've known. You wouldn't be caught dead living like us commoners. Where's the bed in this joint?"
The mention of bed caused something hot and heavy to coil in Seto's navel. Without meaning to, his arm tightened around Jounouchi's neck, which only prompted the other man to grip him tighter, mistaking the action as a plea for more support.
"Bedroom," he moaned, knocking his head against the side of Jounouchi's. He might be imagining it, but he swore Jounouchi shivered and pink flooded down to his neck.
Seconds later, they stumbled into the adjoined bedroom. The spacious room apparently didn't warrant any comments, because Jounouchi deposited Seto on the bed and disappeared from sight.
To say Seto was disappointed was an understatement.
It may be a blessing in disguise. Jounouchi had already done the "decent" thing: extracted him from a dicey situation and brought him to safety. Seto didn't need to embarrass himself in front of the other man any further.
He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, kicking a leg out blindly.
"Relax, it's me."
Silly though it was, Seto did relax as soon as he registered Jounouchi's voice. His firm but careful touch.
"Here. I got you water from the minibar and a cool towel. It's unopened. I promise."
Seto stared helplessly at the two items being offered to him. Jounouchi made no moves, either. They were at a stalemate. At least until the other man sighed and pressed the moist towel to Seto's sweat-dampened forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, and he unleashed a faint moan at how good and chilly it felt.
"C'mon, you gotta drink the water, too. The whole bottle, then I promise to leave you alone."
Panic spiked through Seto's system. Being alone, something he never minded before, suddenly sounded unbearable. He didn't want Jounouchi to leave.
He reached out. Not to take the proffered bottle, as refreshing as its content may be, but to grab Jounouchi's forearm. Jounouchi froze under his clutch.
"You can't leave. I won't let you," said Seto before he could stop himself.
Jounouchi's breath hitched. As he stared at Seto's face, his eyes darkened with something unspeakable. He licked his lips. "Okay, not leaving. Not tonight. Guess someone's gotta keep an eye on you and make sure things don't take a turn for the worse. But you gotta at least let go of my arm. I'll take the couch outside."
Seto slid closer. "I want you—"
Jounouchi gasped. Seto could kiss him at that instant, but his head spun.
He wanted Jounouchi in every conceivable way. Wanted to feel his naked skin against his skin. Wanted to feel his weight pressing down on him as his cock pushed into Seto's hole. Wanted to shatter apart and then let Jounouchi piece him back together in the afterglow, warm and content.
He thought Jounouchi might grant him those things. If only he'd ask for them. But the words remained stubbornly lodged in his throat as sobriety started to creep in on the edges.
"I want you to stay with me," he whispered, holding Jounouchi's shell-shocked gaze.
Tonight and tomorrow. Maybe even for the rest of their lives. One day, Seto would give voice to the whole truth.
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marimogf-archived · 5 months
Text
it's mr. steal your girl!
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synopsis: getting stood up by your boyfriend on your birthday? don't worry, your best friend, infinite flirt satoru gojo, will never let you down!
genre / au: porn with a little plot? best friend!satoru, best friends to lovers, little fluff at the end, very little angst
contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, slight dom!satoru, reader wears makeup and a dress, cheating, use of petnames (good girl, sweetheart, baby etc.), daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, photo taking, shitty bf naoya; wc: ~4.1k
happy reading, i hope you enjoy! as always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! 🩷
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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satoru gojo is a player. or so the rumours say. everyone who talks about him says so. dubbed “mr. steal your girl” with how fast he had people falling for him, taken or not. that he's overly flirty, he hooks up with people on a whim and is not a fan of commitment.
but oh dear, was he committed to getting into your pants.
ever since he was introduced to you, arms interlinked with your boyfriend, naoya, he fantasised about being what the zen’in brat was for you. he could never treat you right, unlike satoru.
over time, the two of you got closer and closer, much to naoya’s dismay. but who was he to stop the great satoru gojo from seeing you? exactly.
most of your conversations were about your boyfriend. satoru telling you how much he hated how the zen’in heir treated you, how he was trying to keep you to himself and how you deserved better. the smile on his face fading whilst he listened to you defending naoya, trying to be a good wife-to-be, not expecting anything back from him.
satoru’s everlasting smile turned upside down, trying to understand what it was about him that had you so wrapped around his finger.
even today, on your birthday, he wasn't there. and yet you never uttered a bad word about him. even on this important day, he didn't care.
naoya had been called to an emergency clan meeting, apparently forgetting to give you a head’s up. not even a “happy birthday” text, nothing. you had waited for an hour at the restaurant until you got the call from him, telling you that he was tired after the meeting and wishing you happy birthday in that disgustingly bored tone of his.
with your heart in pieces, you called satoru right after, not wanting to waste the reservation and have a nice dinner either way. he took it as an opportunity to scrutinise naoya again, rightfully so.
“please, he could be treating you so much better. he acts like you're just an incubator for his heir and it's honestly annoying. he doesn't respect you at all and never will. he doesn't keep you around to marry, you're just a fleshlight for him. does he make you cum?,” he stated, sipping on his way too sweet tea.
you gasp at his lewd question, slapping his arm lightly and looking around to see if anyone heard him. heat was rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“what are you saying, of course he does!” you hissed, lying through your teeth.
satoru smirked, catching you red-handed. “you're lying and not even good at it.”
with a huff, you crossed your arms and watched how his eyes dipped to your accentuated chest and back to your face.
“okay, maybe he doesn't and i have to fake it sometimes but it still feels good. why do you even care?”
the white-haired man leaned forward, head resting on his large hand. his ocean eyes peering into yours over his sunglasses, making you squirm in your seat.
“because i want my best friend to be happy and making you cum is a part of that. it can't be that hard to make you orgasm, even naoya could do it if he cared. but he doesn't. hell, he stood you up on your own birthday because of his stupid clan meeting!”
you squinted at him, trying to ignore the thrumming in your chest as you uttered the next words.
“what? like you could treat me better?”
oh, now you've done it.
he finished his drink before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away to his car. the drive back to his apartment was tense, his warm hand on your thigh as he concentrated on the road. you squirmed, not having expected him to actually take the bait.
yes, he was your best and closest friend but he never lied about finding you hot. he never lied about his distaste for naoya, always bragging how much better he would treat you if you just gave him a chance. but because he was satoru gojo, the infinite flirt, you never thought he'd actually mean it.
he parked the car, getting out to open the passenger door for you. placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the front door. the smell of his cologne was overtaking your senses, getting dizzy at the prospect of actually getting in his pants.
unlocking his apartment door, he took off his sunglasses before gently taking your hand and guided you to the bedroom. as you took a tentative seat on his bed, looking around the room to avoid eye contact, satoru took a few steps towards you.
“we don't have to do it, you know. wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the zen’ins. not that i couldn't protect you. i’ll kill them if needed,” he said, kneeling in front of you and placing a warm hand on your knee.
“i just can't stand to see you so upset on your birthday and i wanna show you what it's like to be treated well because your dickhead of a boyfriend can't.”
your heart broke because you knew on the inside he was right. naoya didn't care about you at all, it was all a facade for his parents so they would stop pestering him to get married. but he never had any intention of putting a ring on your finger or having a long term relationship. you never even met his family, he didn't even invite you to his home. it was a purely physical relationship with someone you weren't compatible with with no regard for you. and for what?
it hurt. it hurt bad and you wanted satoru to take the pain away.
your eyes rose to look at him, tears brimming in them. as always, satoru read you like an open book. no matter how much you would try to hide it, he was always acutely aware of your emotions. when you nodded, giving him the green light, he smiled widely.
he rose, face to face with you, before gently kissing you and tasting the tears that started to roll down your cheeks. a whine escaped your throat, instantly being swallowed up by satoru’s lips and stored away in his memory. your eyes fluttered closed and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks once again.
his lips were so perfectly soft against yours and your hands slid up to his chest to grip his shirt. his big hands were on your neck and cheek, holding you close as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip.
your lips parted willingly, letting his tongue slide against yours. meanwhile, your fingers did quick work of the buttons of his shirt, leaving him in just a black tank top that stretched over his muscular pecs. your hands slid underneath the shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and exposing his toned arms.
his hands slid down to your shoulders, playing with the straps of your skimpy dress. he pulled away, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he watched your already dazed expression.
“you were trying to get some tonight, hm? dressed like that,” he murmured against your lips. his smile widened as you nodded, averting your gaze in embarrassment. though he wasn't the man you had intended to be in bed with, you weren't complaining.
satoru was an attractive man, no one could deny that. his snow white, fluffy hair, his cerulean blue eyes, his soft lips. down to his lean build, muscles invisible under his baggy clothes and only exposed to those who have the honour to take him to bed.
“i know i’m not your boyfriend, but i’ll show you how he should be treating you,” satoru’s voice was low and his tone so sincere that tears burned in your eyes again. his calloused thumb wiped away the stray ones escaping, kissing your mascara-stained cheeks.
his kisses started travelling lower, along your jawline and down your neck. you closed your eyes with a sigh as satoru’s soft lips explored your hot skin. he gently pushed you back onto the soft mattress, his lips never leaving your neck. his tall frame towered over you, a feeling of safety embracing you.
he alternated between sucking and biting, marking you as his. quiet moans left your lips as his large hands found your soft breasts, massaging them through your dress. your nipples were already perked up, visible through the thin fabric.
“‘toru…” you whimpered, hands gripping his broad shoulders. your sounds were music to his ears. he pinched your nipples through your dress, making your back arch into him. that gave him the perfect opportunity to slide the straps off your shoulders, exposing you to the cold air in his bedroom as well as his hungry eyes.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he taunted, leaning down again to ravage your chest, hot mouth engulfing your perked bud. you whined, your hands finding purchase in his soft hair. the other breast was also getting attention. his big hand squishing it, rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. switching sides, the cold air made your saliva-slicked bud even more sensitive. he gently bit your nipple, making you moan his name and pull his hair.
pulling him off of you, he looked at you with dilated pupils and a cocky grin on his lips. your heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall.
“please, just make me forget about him.”
your dress was off in seconds, leaving you just in your skimpy lace underwear that sported a wet patch already. he took off his clothes down to his boxers equally as fast before focusing his attention back on you.
you felt so small underneath his intense gaze, his body framing yours as he leaned over you again to kiss you feverishly. you pulled him closer, hands wandering over his hot skin, feeling his muscles twitch and flex. satoru had a way of making everyone around him feel small due to his height but now you truly felt tiny underneath his large frame.
his kisses trailed down your chest again, going lower and lower until he knelt between your legs, nipping at the skin of your thighs. you sat up on your elbows to see his darkened eyes and his nose nudging against your covered cunt, inhaling your scent.
“all this for me? you shouldn't have,” he smirked, pressing a soft kiss against your clothed clit. you whined his name, wiggling and hinting at him to get on with it. he let out a chuckle and hooked his fingers under the waistband to pull your soaked underwear down your legs, a string of arousal connecting your cunt and the fabric. throwing the skimpy fabric over his shoulder, he placed his warm hands on the inside of your soft thighs as you tried to close your legs.
“nuh uh, baby, let me see what naoya’s been claiming.”
satoru gojo may not be a fan of commitment. but currently, he was hopelessly devoted to you.
okay, you and your wet cunt in front of his face. your folds were glistening with arousal, the scent of it overtaking his senses. all for him and him only.
he had dreamed about this for a long time. to have you like this underneath him, bashfully writhing and moaning for him to hurry up.
his lips found your thigh, fangs showing to nip your skin and mark you. you were watching him intently, mouth agape and drool threatening to run out of the corner.
when his hot tongue finally made contact with your pussy, your head fell back and a loud moan left your lips. the wet appendage was lapping up your juices and he moaned at your sweet taste. his eyes were trained on your face, brows furrowed in concentration.
he was dead set on fulfilling your wish. to make you forget your shitty boyfriend, erasing every bad memory from your mind and body.
his hands gripped your thighs, nails leaving crescent marks as your hips moved on their own, grinding against his hot mouth. his tongue flattened against your clit, providing you with just enough friction to grind against.
his scalp started to burn pleasantly with the way you were pulling him, using him to get yourself off. his tongue was so hot and wet against you and his lips curled into a smile when he noticed your moans getting louder and your hips stuttering against him.
he pulled away just as you were tiptoeing on the brink of orgasm, a needy whine leaving your lips.
“hah… why'd you stop, ‘toru? please, wanna cum,” you whimpered and he almost gave in if it wasn't for his plan.
his fingers spread your lips, watching your tiny hole clench around nothing. your glistening arousal dripping down your hole made his mouth water again. his long middle finger slid into your warmth slowly, your arms giving out underneath you and your back arching towards him.
he curled his finger upwards, finding the spongy spot in your walls almost immediately and abusing it right away. whimpers left your throat and you gripped the sheets next to you, fucking yourself on his finger.
“fuuck baby, s’tight. naoya isn't fucking you right, is he?”
a rhetorical question. if he would, you wouldn't be in this predicament.
he added a second one, his larger fingers stretching you out and reaching spots inside you that naoya never could. but just as you were close to cumming, he pulled his finger out, leaving you high and dry again.
“why'd you do that? i wanna cum, ‘toru, please, just let me,” you cried out, leaning up on wobbly arms with huffs and puffs.
“because i haven't given you your birthday taps yet.”
your eyes widened at his insinuation. satoru grinned at you before his big hand made contact with your pussy again.
but not in the way you had hoped and wanted.
a harsh slap echoed through the room, followed by a whine from your lips. the man between your legs grinned, fangs shining in the low light of your bedroom.
“c’mon baby, you gotta count,” he teased, calloused fingers drawing gentle circles on your swollen clit. “for good luck.”
you couldn't concentrate, feeling dizzy at the stimulation and your two denied orgasms already. but to satoru’s delight, you started counting. he kept going, always giving you a little breather in between and rubbing your clit or pushing his fingers inside you to keep you on edge. your thighs were trembling, littered with marks and your voice was starting to give out at the halfway point.
“please ‘toru, i wanna cum so bad,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist and looking at his smug face with tears rolling down your cheeks.
“you're almost done, baby. if you finish without cumming, i’ll give it to you,” he spoke, thumb rubbing your hot skin soothingly. truthfully, satoru didn't even know how he was lasting, dick painfully hard and dripping against the mattress. but he restrained himself somehow.
for you.
the last few slaps against your cunt were torturous, stars dancing behind your eyes with each slap and the coil threatening to snap.
“okay, you're done, baby. did s’well, you deserve a reward now, hm?” satoru teased before plunging two fingers into your dripping pussy, his tongue wet against your clit.
your back arched unnaturally off the bed, hands gripping his white strands. you almost blacked out from the pleasure as your hips gyrated against his fingers.
“oh, s’good, tha…thank you, thank you,” you panted, chasing ecstasy, “fuck, feels so good.”
“yeah? better than your shitty boyfriend?” he cooed, watching you get yourself off on him. your skin was glistening with sweat, the smell of your arousal filling the whole room and your moans just music to his ears.
“can't believe he'd wanna miss out on this,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. not that you would've heard, too busy getting lost in the pleasure.
“m’close, pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! please let me cum!” you begged and satoru’s heart leaped out of his chest at the nickname. he'd never expected you to call someone daddy but now that he heard it once?
he never wanted anyone else to hear it.
“come on then, make a mess, baby,” he said, giving you the green light, “make a mess on daddy’s fingers.”
satoru watched in delight as your body convulsed and your cunt gushed clear liquid into his waiting mouth. he was drinking up your juices and moaning against you, prolonging your orgasm. he slowed down his fingers, giving your clit kitten licks before pulling out with a wet squelch. his fingers were drenched in your juices and he lifted himself up, pushing his fingers past your lips.
he could've sworn he blacked out for a second when you looked at him with fucked out eyes and heart-shaped pupils. sucking your essence off his fingers and moaning around them.
“fuck, you're so hot. i can't believe he doesn't wanna fuck you 24/7. such a good girl,” he whispered. you whined, brain scrambled from how hard you came.
he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, giving you a heated kiss before rummaging around his room for a condom. once you came to your senses again and realised what he was looking for, you called out to him.
“satoru.”
he turned around, looking at you getting on your hands and knees shakily and looking back at him. his dick twitched in his underwear as you wiggled your ass at him, cunt dripping onto the sheets.
“you don't need one.”
at the premise of fucking you raw, he got behind you, boxers discarded in seconds and his fat cock grinding against your wet heat. your arousal was lubricating his length before he slowly pushed into your warm, wet cunt. he let out a moan, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. he bottomed out, feeling you clench around him and he tried his hardest not to bust right there.
“oh m’god, so big,” you whimpered, arms threatening to give out. one of satoru’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up and closer to him. the other snaking up for his hand to cover your throat and squeezing gently. his chest was pressed against your arched back, his whole body caging you.
“yeah? like being filled up with daddy's cock?” he whispered in your ears and you whined, feeling your cunt stretching out. his hand snaked down to your sensitive clit, slowly circling his fingers and adding to the stimulation.
“s’good, daddy, please fuck me,” you moaned, drool escaping the corner of your mouth as you held onto satoru’s strong arms.
he started moving at your command. slowly, gently, feeling your walls hug his length so deliciously. his dick hit every sensitive spot of your walls, mushroom tip nudging against your cervix.
“fuck, baby, y’r so tight, so good f’me,” he grunted, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your shoulder before picking up the pace. his hips snapped against yours, your tits jiggling with every thrust.
your lips were parted, letting out a constant stream of moans at how deliciously painful satoru’s swollen tip bruised your insides. stretching you out and nudging that gummy, sensitive spot inside you that had you reeling towards the edge.
“g’na cum again, daddy. pleaseplease let me cum!” you whined, nails leaving red marks on his skin as you struggled to keep your hold on him. satoru smirked against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with a groan when you clenched around him. you were trying so hard to keep it in, to be a good girl.
all for him.
“cum for me then, make a mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. he held you close to him as you shook, pussy clenching and gushing around him and soaking the sheets.
“oh fuuck, oh my god!” you whimpered when he slowly thrusted into you. he was prolonging your orgasm while inching closer to his own, your sensitive walls hugging his length so tightly.
satoru let go of you, letting you fall to the mattress. one of his hands gripping your hip tightly. the other was grabbing your hair, pulling your torso up. putting his foot onto the mattress for leverage, his thrusts began to speed up, a constant slapping sound echoing through his bedroom. his pink lips were parted, letting out deep grunts and moans of your name.
“gonna fill y’up, baby. gonna breed this little pussy, get you all nice and pregnant, so that asshole knows you’re mine. you'd like that, wouldn't you?,” he grumbled, completely pussydrunk.
“please, daddy, fill m’up, make me yours,” you mewled, absolutely drunk off the way he was hitting your g-spot over and over again. the coil in your stomach was tightening yet again.
his hips snapped into you, just a few thrusts more until he was stilling inside you. bottomed out, he let out a long moan as rope after rope of his cum painted your insides white. the warm feeling of his seed made you cum yet again, coating his length in your essence.
you two stayed still for a breath before satoru pulled out with a lewd squelch, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your clenching hole. he grabbed the flesh of your buttock, using two fingers to push his cum back into you. he then took your phone, snapping a picture of your leaking cunt and sending it to naoya.
captioned: “it's mr. steal your girl! :3”
he wanted to block the contact but refrained, just for you to see his reaction. while he got off the bed, you flopped onto your side, heavy breathing making your chest rise and fall. he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your sweaty forehead, whispering that he'll be right back.
you didn't come back to your senses for a while, trying to make up what actually happened. guilt and anxiety overtook you, but the pleasant buzz of sex overshadowed it soon enough.
satoru returned quickly with a wet washcloth and a glass of water with a straw. he held it out for you, watching with heart-shaped pupils as you emptied the glass in mere seconds. the wet washcloth met your face, gently wiping away the sweat before he reached between your legs, wiping away the remnants of both your orgasms.
your eyes were struggling to stay open, trying desperately to fight sleep. a content smile lifted the corners of your mouth, a gentle simmer overtaking your heart.
“so this is how the great satoru gojo treats his hookups, huh?” you mumbled, not really expecting an answer. satoru’s hand settled on your cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly over the hot skin. the gentle touch forced you to look at him, tears burning in your eyes at the prospect of facing your actual boyfriend.
as if he could read your troubled mind, satoru leaned down again to press his lips against yours, trying to convey the loving thrum of his heart with just a kiss. but just in case it wouldn't work, he parted from you to speak.
“you weren't just a hookup though. this is how the great satoru gojo would treat his potential girlfriend if she would finally break up with her scumbag of a boyfriend,” he murmured, nose nudging yours, forcing an exhausted giggle out of you.
“but good thing, i already did it for you!” he held the phone up to your face, showing you the photo he sent to naoya as well as the slur of angry messages that followed, including one stating that he was breaking up with you. reading through it all with a slacked jaw, a breathy laugh erupted from your chest.
the realisation hit you in the face. you were finally free from the zen’in clan and their horrid heir. not that they'd care anyway.
“you're unbelievable, satoru!”
he took the liberty of blocking the contact now, setting your phone down on the nightstand.
“i truly really like you, i didn't just wanna give you some mind-blowing birthday sex. not that i’m complaining,” he laughed, reaching out for your hand. the giggle that left your lips had his heart doing somersaults.
“i truly want to see you happy and i’m a firm believer that you would be by my side. i know i always joke about it but i’m being honest right now. will you please be my girlfriend?” he asked, voice quiet and almost insecure which was an unusual phenomenon.
you felt your heartbeat pick up, the organ thrumming against your ribcage. you always had eyes for satoru. truthfully, you got with naoya out of spite in hopes that the feelings would subside. but the truth would always prevail.
“is that a rhetorical question? of course i will!”
satoru gojo, "mr. steal your girl", has only ever stolen one girl in his life and that was you.
but by god, was it worth it.
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a/n: WAHHHHHHH it's finally out of my system!! this is dedicated to my favourite gojo fucker @jabamin for her and gojo's birthday 🩷 (everyone go wish karina a happy birthday or else 🫵🏼) thank you to @tojiella for your help proofreading, also tagging @screampied @ramonathinks @c0pkiller @tetsuskei and @gojoest as fellow gojo lovers teehee. i hope you enjoyed, love you so much 💗
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
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shotmrmiller · 4 months
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i fucking dreamt about könig.
Cmon.
CMON.
What do i even? I heard him speak german ONCE. And now he's calling me mein hase 😔
--
König's got you as his neighbor- sweet, comely thing.
He'll pull the 'not much english' card because he uses it as an excuse for you to translate stuff for him, cuz he likes to stand behind you, looming, and smell your hair.
And what's worse, he'll ask you to translate interior decor magazines- and you'll comment on things that you think look nice, how you'd buy that for yourself if you could. His sharp eyes will take in every single thing you pointed at, and purchase them.
König wants everything to be to your liking for when you inevitably move in with him.
And he'll pretend to be sad with you when the guy that you were casually dating ghosts you. He'll ask if you'd like a cuppa back at his place, and you can tell him all about it.
König is an damn good at what he does, he's an expert- so when the police eventually find your casual date's body bloated and washed up on a beach, his death is marked accidental. A drowning.
He'll use your state of shock to his advantage- pulls you in for a hug, asks if you'd like a drink to calm the nerves. But the drink turns into drinks. And then it turns into him stretching your tight cunt with his overly endowed cock, until he's bottomed out. But König is especially kind to you. He'll give you time to accommodate, time to let the burning and stinging turn into a dull ache. He'll murmur delicious praise into your ear, how snug you feel around him, how you're a dream come true, an angel sent from above.
And you're too tipsy to realize he's said all of this in plain english.
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breadinanutshell · 7 months
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I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/
ACT1
-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.
-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.
-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).
-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).
-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.
-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.
-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.
-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.
-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.
ACT2
-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.
-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.
-He’s 350 years old.
-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.
-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.
-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.
-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.
-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.
-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.
-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.
-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.
-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.
ACT3
-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.
-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.
-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.
-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.
-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.
-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.
-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.
-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.
-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.
-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.
-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.
-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.
-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.
-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.
-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)
summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)
order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡
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Today’s the day. 
You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.
Today’s the day. 
You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination. 
Today’s the day. 
You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him. 
Today’s the day.
You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones. 
Today’s the day.
You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced. 
He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out. 
You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months. 
He showed up in the last two months. 
Today’s… not the day.
You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table. 
And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair. 
You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with. 
“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest. 
Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.
Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.
Tuesday also isn’t the day. 
You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know? 
But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles. 
So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.” 
You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were. 
“This is getting painful to watch.” 
You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows. 
“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop. 
Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”
Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night. 
She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality. 
“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down. 
Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink  background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it. 
“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.” 
“You don’t scare me, Chris.” 
“I should.”
“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.” 
Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.
He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction. 
His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards. 
Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.
One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon. 
Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances. 
One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable. 
“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident. 
You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.
Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental. 
None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop. 
Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table. 
You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.
“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?” 
Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind. 
“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.” 
He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack. 
It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook. 
And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.  
You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.
A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride. 
“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door. 
It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.” 
“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.” 
“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“It’ll get all over your car.”
“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.” 
“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”
“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”
“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated. 
He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration. 
He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart. 
“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.” 
Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”
“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.” 
You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt. 
Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.
But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.
You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.
Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him. 
Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with. 
You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong. 
At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least. 
Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.
So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date. 
“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?” 
“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.
Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?” 
Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot. 
“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.” 
“Who?” 
“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience. 
Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 
The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins. 
Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie. 
“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?” 
Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.” 
You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.
He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying. 
“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”
Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you. 
“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts. 
“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.” 
“Did you tell him?” 
“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.” 
It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all. 
Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends. 
By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly. 
But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real. 
 When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for. 
You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre. 
You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed. 
Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup. 
You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey. 
“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.” 
“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”
Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.” 
He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?” 
Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams. 
“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.” 
He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it. 
You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day. 
“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”
“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”
He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.” 
Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name. 
“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.
“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.” 
His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating. 
His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again. 
“Say, is this seat taken?” 
You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you. 
He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours. 
“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.” 
“What do you want to know?” 
“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.” 
Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring. 
He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.
Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy. 
“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”
“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”
You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”
“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”
You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.
“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.
“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?” 
“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.” 
Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty. 
“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.
He thinks you’re pretty. 
“Yeah.” 
Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger. 
Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter. 
“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.” 
“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.
He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”
“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”
Your heart might just burst. 
“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”
“Or I could give you my number.”
“Or you could give me your number.” 
You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone. 
He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name. 
“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.” 
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.” 
The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile. 
You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again. 
The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder. 
Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number. 
You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind. 
“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-” 
It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly. 
“It’s raining,” you murmur. 
“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.” 
You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?” 
He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.” 
“How?”
“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.” 
He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”
“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.” 
Oh, your grin grows. 
“What else did you notice?” 
“Excuse me?”
You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.” 
He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?” 
“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.” 
A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more. 
“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.” 
“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.” 
That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.
“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?” 
Today was the day. Today was just the beginning. 
“Capiche.” 
It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 26 days
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader[4.3K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE
LESSON #2
[Six Months Before]
Steve Harrington was standing in Tammy Thompson’s backyard, bumping his knuckles against Eddie’s as the boy approached with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.
Eddie had dragged you out, brown eyes pleading as per, promising he’d score big at this party and he’d definitely buy you a burger and shake with his takings on the way home. Midnight, he’d said, swear it, he’d said. But the clock in Tammy’s moms kitchen was ticking towards one o’clock and when Eddie spotted Steve - and Jonathan Byers - out by the pool, you’d made the decision to hang back.
They were too close to the water, the lagoon shaped pool lit up in the night by an underwater glow, yellow-white spotlights that made sure you could see just how deep it was. There were some girls hanging close by, dresses and skirts rucked up their thighs and their shoes long lost as they dipped their legs into the bright blue water, pink lips around cherry vodka bottles and their eyes on the boys - a potential ride home in more ways than one.
“M’not gonna let you just fall into the pool,” Eddie had frowned when you’d told him you’d wait inside. “Who even does that anyway? You’re not wasted enough for that sweetheart.”
And you weren’t. Barely tipsy, actually. 
But the pool took up most of the patio space and other people were drunk, stumbling around the yard and trying to dance to the music that came from the open kitchen door. The water was too much, too deep, too blue, too dark.
And Steve Harrington was too pretty and intimidating - but you didn’t tell Eddie that part.
Jonathan spotted you over Eddie’s shoulder and waved, smiling kindly before he said something that made Eddie’s eyes light up with excitement. And that was okay because Jonathan was quiet and sweet and always polite to you, commenting on the books he’d see you reading when he passed you in town and sometimes he’d bump into you during Eddie’s hellfire meetings, passing as he picked up his little brother.
Steve, you didn’t see as much. Only from afar, usually. He was quieter than he’d been in high school, crownless and a little softer around the edges than when you sat two rows behind him in Mrs Click’s class. But Robin had a lot of things to say about him, gentle ribbing that was always wrapped in a fondness anyone with eyes could see and for a while, you thought that maybe they were a thing until Robin had vehemently told you that they were everything but.
Platonic with a capital P, she’d told you, popping the last letter and hiding the burn in her cheeks. 
But still, you knew he gave her rides to work before he drove himself to the pool, acting oblivious and almost uncomfortable when the hoards of freshman girls made a point to pick the loungers closest to the lifeguard tower. 
Not that you’d ever seen such a thing. But Robin liked to poke fun and Eddie was a bigger gossip than the cheerleader he used to date during his sophomore year. 
So really, you had once mused, there wasn’t really any reason to be so avoidant of Steve Harrington now. Except, once you finally admitted to yourself you had an awfully bad crush on him, that was excuse enough. He would nod and smile politely at you when he ran into you and Eddie around town, at the mall, in the crowds at parties. And on good days, you’d smile back, lips thin and tight in an overly polite grimace of some sort but neither of you attempted to make conversation with each other. Any awkward silences were filled by your mutual friend, Eddie talking loudly and animatedly about whatever topic came to mind, his curls and his laugh both big enough to patch over any uncomfortable silences.
So when a few minutes passed with you staring into your drink, watching the ice cubes melt into whatever concoction Eddie had handed you, you didn’t expect Steve to appear beside you. He was busying himself with the stack of beers on the kitchen counter beside you, but he cleared his throat all the same, unsure about it as he gained your attention. But he was looking at you, purposeful, as if his elbow softly knocking yours wasn’t an accident. 
His gaze was still holding yours as he popped the cap off of a bottle of bud light lime, the cap hitting the floor. You blinked at him, eyes only straying for a second to see that Eddie was still out by the pool talking to Johnathan and some other guy you didn’t know. Brows furrowed, you turned back, lips parting to ask if everything was okay, because why else would Steve Harrington be looking at you. 
But then he was talking, smiling sweet and kind and holding a little of that confidence you knew back in school. It was still there, that self assurance that he had years ago, but it was muted, a boldness that wasn’t quite dimmed but definitely softened. It made him seem even more intimidating, prettier with his messier hair and scruff along his jaw, his clothes less tight and pressed. 
“You doin’ okay?” 
You blinked again, wondering if he really was talking to you. But there was no one else around and you gripped your cup a little tighter, nodding before you could make a fool of yourself. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Steve shrugged, smiling as he took a sip from his beer and he gestured out to the patio, to the pool and to Eddie who was grinning at you. “Just wondered why you weren’t coming out, that’s all. You’re normally glued to Munson.”
You scrunched your nose, cheeks warming because he wasn’t wrong, but the reminder of how close you usually stuck to Eddie made you feel younger, childlike. 
“It’s not like… that,” you explained, although you weren’t sure why you were bothering. “Us. Eddie and I- it’s not like we’re together, or anything.” You immediately regretted your words, the explanation feeling thick and clumsy on your tongue and your neck was burning, heat creeping up along your jaw.
Steve was still smiling, grin hid behind his beer and his brows were raised. He looked amused, nodding as you stumbled around each word and when you frowned, gulping down your watery cranberry and vodka, he grinned wider. “Yeah, no-- I know,” Steve assured you. He shrugged, “still, thanks for the clarification. S’good to know.”
You never found out what he meant by that, if he was being funny or just friendly, if he was flirting and genuinely interested. A neighbour called the cops and Eddie grabbed you before they could come through the front door, boosting you up by the foot so you could both scramble over the back fence. Steve had left with Jonathan and his girlfriend Nancy, the three of them running to Steve’s car just as Chief Hopper started yelling at the drunk kids left behind and you hadn’t so much as glanced back at each other for fear of being dragged home in the back of a cop car. 
The next time you’d spent any real time with Steve Harrington, well. You’d been sinking to the bottom of the lake.  
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You were standing by the closed gate of the community pool at seven am sharp, the obnoxiously large lock stopping you from entering - despite the rip in the chain link fence to your right. 
You weren’t waiting long, even though you would’ve happily stayed on the other side of the lot for as long as required. The air was already warming, the scent of chlorine and leftover sunscreen surrounding you, mixing with the sound of the cicadas, the early morning sprinklers from the houses across the road. Then Steve was jogging towards you, one big hand clutching a rolled up towel and a set of keys and his cheeks were pink from his efforts, his sliders slapping on the concrete and he looked apologetic as he approached. 
“M’really sorry, car had a flat,” he huffed. “Would’ve left earlier if I knew I was walking.”
It was harder to look him in the eye after last week. Once the initial fear that had a vice grip on you loosened - if only slightly - it was easier to become so aware of how close you’d been to Steve. A whole morning spent half clothed and wet, his hands on you at all times, gentle and guiding as he coaxed you to walk around the shallow end of the pool. He’d been nothing but a gentleman about it, professional at all times with his hands either in yours or bracing your arms, never straying anywhere they shouldn’t, even if you’d caught his eyes going just that, maybe once or twice. 
You pulled at the collar of your t-shirt as Steve busied himself with the padlock, the air so much stickier now that he was close by. “It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m not in a rush.”
Steve snorted and it shouldn’t have been an attractive sound as it was. His eyes crinkled in amusement, mirth in them as he glanced down at you from under his lashes. He still looked soft from bed, hair mussed and a five o’clock shadow across his jaw that suited him too well. His lifeguard shirt was sunbleached and threadbare, the red shorts he wore smaller than his last pair, the material well above his knees. He was more sunkissed than last weekend, freckles on the bridge of his nose, cheeks stained a permanent blush. 
“Was your first lesson that bad?” He asked.
You burned, not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him, not when he was looking at you like that. 
“No,” you squirmed. The lock was open now but neither of you moved. “I mean, yeah, but not— not as bad as I thought. It was okay.”
Steve  grinned like he knew something you didn’t, nodding slowly as he held the gate for you. “It was okay,” he repeated back, “I’ll take it.”
The pool was as blue and as intimidating as the first week, the generator humming and the filter trickling softly as you walked around it, giving the edge a wide berth. If Steve saw you frown and the dark blue depths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, you both dropped your towels and bags on a lounger and the boy didn’t so much as blush as he stripped off his shirt, throwing it alongside everything else. 
“You wanna get changed?” He asked, already busying himself with pulling some floats out of a shelving unit. “I’ll get everything sorted and you can—”
You were stripping off your own shirt before Steve could finish his sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as you revealed the same old black swimsuit underneath your clothes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen already, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered as you popped the button of your shorts, the denim dragging down your hips. You didn’t look at him as they slid off your legs, your feet clumsy as you tried to toe off your sneakers and step out of your shorts all at once. 
Steve was pink, even if you didn’t see it, his whole body turning from you abruptly as he decided what else he might need to take from storage. A pool noodle fell to the floor as you bundled up your clothes and chucked them onto the chair, both of you decidedly not looking at each. 
“Uh, right.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair, the soft ends immediately falling back across his forehead. He looked like he’d already caught most of the morning’s sun as he finally glanced at you, the tips of his ears a little pink. “Let's get started.”
—————
Your arms were crossed over your chest as you stood waist deep in the pool, partly for a little cleavage cover, mostly because you were cold. Your skin had prickled as you entered the water the same way as last time, step by step into the shallows, with Steve by your side. He didn’t hold your hands, but one of his hovered by your elbow the whole way down, ready to catch you if you stumbled, if you felt less than brave. 
He murmured soft encouragement the whole way down, a new praise falling from his lips at each stair and when you made it onto the pool floor, he’d grinned. 
“Look at you go, we’ll have you swimming lengths in no time.”
You couldn’t work out if he was joking or not, and the idea of going to the other end of the pool was enough to make your stomach churn, the lucky charms you’d shovelled into your mouth before leaving turning acidic. Still, you grinned - grimaced, maybe - and made a strange noise at the back of your throat. Steve thought it was supposed to be a laugh. 
“Ha— yeah, sure, maybe in a while.”
So Steve just smiled and left it at that. Then he was wading a little deeper, the water moving from his upper thighs and soaking his shorts, the cherry red turning scarlet, a deeper colour that you couldn’t help but stare at and then the pool swallowed his lower body, the ripples catching around his hip bones. 
He was facing you as he moved, arms out and hands coaxing, encouraging you to follow and when he saw the look of panic in your face, he stopped walking. “Hey, hey,” his voice was soft, just like the morning. It was all hazy skies, a blue-lavender fuzz and the trickle of water, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and Steve Harrington’s wide, brown eyes. “Look, yeah? We’re not going any deeper than this, I promise. ‘N I’m right here.”
You remembered how you told him you trusted him, just seven days ago. How he’d told you in return that he’d come get you, just like he had before. It felt rude to question the man who’d once saved your life but still, you hesitated, arms still curled around your chest like you could anchor yourself to that spot. 
But then Steve held out his hand, palm up and resting on top of the surface. The blue of the pool made his skin look even more tanned, sunkissed and glittering with droplets of water, beads of it sliding off of his forearm, pooling in the middle of his hand. He wiggled his fingers at you. 
You didn’t even know you were reaching out to him until his hand curled around yours, bigger and wider and warmer despite the way you were still adjusting to the colder temperature. The sticky heat of the morning air didn’t do much for the large pool, the water still nipping at your skin as you moved through it. 
“There you go,” Steve praised, smiling wide and earnest as you took a step. “There she is, ladies and gents, Hawkins next high diver—”
You scoffed, eyes rolling and cheeks sore when you grinned, unable to help it. But you were still moving, baby steps towards Steve and the gasp that left your lips as the water crept up towards the line of your belly button was due more to the cold than the depth. 
Steve held your hand tightly, a solid grip, your own kind of anchor. 
“Alright, see?” He was beaming, eyes squinting through the rays of the sun that bounced off the surface and he was too pretty with it, painted in the reflections of the ripples and stripes of rainbow. “You did it, you’re killing this.”
You didn’t point out that you hadn’t technically done any real swimming yet, but the fact you were standing further into the pool than you were seven days ago felt momentous. Eddie had spent countless summers trying to even coax you inside the property line, sunscreen smeared on his nose and pleading in his eyes. 
“You still trust me?” Steve asked, eyes bright and earnest and god, it was impossible to say no. So you nodded, throat feeling a little thick and the words lost behind your teeth but you did and you meant it. And that only made Steve smile wider. “Good. We’re gonna practice floating, okay?”
The idea of it made your chest feel heavy, a sure fire sign that it wasn’t going to go as well as Steve had planned. Letting the water take control of your weight seemed impossible and the task of taking your feet off of the solid tiles at the bottom of the pool was nightmare inducing. But Steve was moving closer, his hand still in yours and his free one grazing your spine. His fingertips skimmed over your back, guiding you in front of him and turning you to the side as he spoke the whole time. 
“It’s easy, right?” He explained, your shoulder brushing his bare chest and you tried not to think about it all too much, tried not to panic despite the way your heart was thundering so hard it was a wonder Steve couldn’t hear your ribs rattle and crack. “M’gonna help, I won’t let you go, I promise. You just gotta let yourself lie back, just a little. I’ll help you do the rest.”
You laughed at him, his words, his positivity that was brighter and warmer than the whole of June and July. It was a gasping, mocking thing, a laugh that got stuck in your throat and the mere suggestion of letting your body fall backwards into the pool was enough to make your eyes dart for the safety of the stairs. 
“I— I can’t. I can’t do that,” you told him, eyes wide and head shaking furiously. “That’s just— no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Maybe you tried to move away, to take a step towards the shallow edge of the pool, or maybe you only imagined you did. Because Steve’s hand was flat against the curve of your back and his palm nearly took up the whole god damn space there. His fingers curled around your own, his thumb running over the bumps of your knuckles. Steve bent a little, knees folding under the water to bring his face down level with your own and he looked so serious when he said: 
“Hey, listen, alright? I know it’s scary. But I promise you, I won’t let you go. You’re not going to go under.” He licked his lips, eyes searching yours for signs of panic, fear, flight. “I won’t let you go under the water, I swear.”
So you stayed, rooted to the spot but there nonetheless. And with a jerky nod, Steve’s hand squeezed your own and he moved into you. You felt his knees bump under your thighs, rough with coarse hair and lined with more muscle than you had, his hips bumping against the side of you. Suddenly the water didn’t feel as cold as before, the sharp chill of it gone. 
“I just want your to bend your legs, okay? Just a little and then let your feet come up. M’gonna support your back. And remember, you can stand here, yeah? S’not deep, you can stand right back up.”
You mumbled something, confirmation maybe, a curse perhaps, aimed at Steve or Eddie, you weren’t sure. You about your friend who was probably still in his bed, face down and oblivious to the situation he’d once again coaxed you into. But you also remembered how he’d been knee deep in the lake as Steve pulled you out, eyes wide and terrified as he prepared to throw himself into the black water to find you too. 
You lifted one foot, a mere stretch onto your toes, really, but Steve hummed in approval and his hand pressed into your back a little more, a silent promise that he was still there to catch you. 
One foot came off of the pool floor. 
“Thatta’ girl,” Steve whispered and he was close. So close, close enough for the words to feel warm against your temple and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face, watching, waiting. “I’ve got you.”
Another foot came off the tiles. 
You dipped, just a little, just for a second, your shoulders submerging and a shocked gasp ripping from the back of your throat before Steve’s hand on your back was pushing you upwards. You tried to fight it, legs kicking awkwardly until Steve was pushing you again, upupup, and your body broke out of the water, shoulders and back and butt flat against the top of the surface. 
“Keep your legs out straight,” Steve instructed, “let me take your weight, breathe in and out, keep calm.”
It all seemed too much to do at once. 
Your hand was a vice grip around Steve’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was watching you, gaze studious and gentle, nodding almost to himself as you tried to do as he told you. Your legs straightened out and stopped kicking, the warm air kissing your shins above the water, your chest shuddering as you sucked in a breath. 
“Uhuh, that’s it. Now just lie back for me, s’alright, I’ve got all of you.”
You choked out a laugh, a cynical sound and Steve’s eyes found yours. You were shaking slightly as you tried to relax, trying to drop your shoulders back into the water. “All of me? You been hitting the gym, Harrington?”
The joke was weak sounding, especially when your lip wobbled too but Steve grinned all the same. The hand on your back moved down a little, settling in the curve there, just above your ass. 
“Thanks for noticing,” he replied softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, a smirk in his smile. “Eddie never compliments me.”
You laughed again, louder this time but just as harsh sounding as before. The water was filling your ears as you lay back, a cold rush to the back of your head and neck as you finally flattened yourself out. 
“What a shit friend,” you managed to choke back. 
Steve let go of your hand with a soft murmur of assurance, quickly placing it beside his other one, both palms supporting your frame. His touch was a delicate thing, the width of each hand encasing your back, keeping you afloat. He was the warmest thing in the water. 
“Right?” Steve whispered, afraid to break the quiet, the spell that you were under. Your eyes were wide and on the sky as you lay there, watching the blue and the pink coloured clouds that were making their way over town. “You’re gonna have to have words with him.”
You nodded before realising the movement made your chin dip, your balance wavering. Your arms that had been floating at your sides tried to claw at something, anything, for purchase but found none and fear seized at your chest again. 
“You’re okay,” Steve told you. “Another deep breath in— there you go. Now, keep your chest and tummy pushed out, okay? Keep it all above the surface, chin up, legs straight, you got it.”
And you did, kinda. The panic that made your chest tight loosened its grip as you let out the breath you’d been holding onto so fiercely. Your legs felt lighter once you stopped fighting the drag of them, your arms floating out to your sides, the back of your right hand brushing Steve’s stomach and you felt the muscles in his abdomen tense. But your eyes were fluttering, lashes blinking against your cheeks as you just let yourself be, your body floating, the cool water lapping at your neck, your face. 
Steve’s hands were sure and steady on your back, never leaving or faltering. In fact they steered you away from the wall and kept you pushed to the surface, gently guiding and encouraging. They made your body feel warmer than the water did, the sun on your front, a dry heat that shone over your face and chest, rainbow spots in your vision and his palms were just as hot under the water. 
He murmured nonsense as he let you balance on his fingertips, always encouraging and soft, pretty praises that made your toes curl into the pool and when he saw the way you trusted him, the way you let him hold you, he stopped talking altogether. 
It was just you and Steve and the water under the sun. 
Fingers danced a line along your spine, one set between your shoulder blades, the other holding you up from the small of your back and it was a shockingly intimate touch, especially when his skin found your own between the straps of your bathing suit. 
Something told you that it would be a bad idea to open your eyes, but Eddie told you bad ideas had good outcomes all of the time. So you did just that, blinking against the sun that was rising as the morning moved on, the sky turning bluer and brighter, but not nearly as warm as Steve’s gaze. 
He was looking down at you, his knees still bent and the water lapping at his chest, his face much closer than you realised. He was smiling, a soft thing that made your heart thunder loud enough to travel through the water, a steady drumbeat in your ears. And when the boy realised you were looking too, his cheeks turned that pretty pink colour, a cotton candy blush that you couldn’t help but stare at and he nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke. 
“You’re doin’ great.”
The water filter trickled somewhere in the background, the sound of someone’s car door slamming in the distance. Apart from that, it was just Steve’s voice over your drum kit of a heart. It took a while for you to nod, water slipping over your chin and lips, tongue licking away chlorine. 
“I’ve got a really good teacher,” you replied. 
812 notes · View notes
gurugirl · 10 months
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A Good Boy | 1. Surrender
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Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.
A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.
Word count: 21.4k words
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut
A Good Boy Masterlist
Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.
He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.
Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.
Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.
Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.
Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.
.           .           .
“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.
The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.
And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.
“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.
Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“
Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.
That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.
“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.
Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.
“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”
“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”
The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”
Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.
“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.
She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.
She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.
“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.
“Yes, it is.”
Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.
The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.
“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.
And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.
“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.
Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”
“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”
Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.
“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.
Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”
Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.
“So you’ve never done this before?”
“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”
Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.
A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.
“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”
The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.
“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.
“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.
Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.
Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.
“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.
The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.
She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.
Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.
“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.
“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.
She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”
“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.
“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.
She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”
Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”
Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.
Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.
She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.
Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”
Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.
“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”
She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).
“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.
“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”
Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”
The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.
Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”
Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.
Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.
She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.
She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.
A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”
Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.
She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”
Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.
She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.
“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.
She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.
It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.
When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.
“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.
And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.
Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”
His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.
When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.
“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.
“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.
They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.
Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.
They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.
“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.
Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.
“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.
Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”
Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.
“As you can see, they’re fine.”
Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.
Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.
Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”
.           .           .
Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.
Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.
So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.
It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.
Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.
Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.
But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.
And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.
And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.
“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”
“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”
“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“
“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”
“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”
Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.
She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.
“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”
Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”
He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.
But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.
When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.
But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.
Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.
When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.
Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.
But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.
Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.
He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.
But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.
He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.
.           .           .
The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.
There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.
Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.
In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.
She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.
But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.
Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.
She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.
In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.
But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.
The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.
She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.
Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”
She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.
“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.
Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”
“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.
Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”
Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.
She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.
Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!
Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…
Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.
Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.
Porn.
He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.
Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed
Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…
She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“
But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.
“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“
Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”
Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.
He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”
Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”
“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”
Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.
“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“
“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”
She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.
“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.
“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”
“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”
Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”
“You too? What?”
She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”
Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”
She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”
She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.
“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.
“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.
She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.
Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”
That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.
“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.
“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”
Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.
Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.
“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”
Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.
But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.
They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”
She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?
Yes. That is exactly what she should do.
Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”
Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”
She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”
Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.
“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”
Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”
“No one needed to know what?”
Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”
She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…
She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.
Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”
She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”
Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”
“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.
She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.
.           .           .
The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.
She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.
Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.
Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.
She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.
Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.
She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.
She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.
The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.
“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.
“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.
As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.
The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).
Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.
When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”
Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.
“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.
She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.
She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.
Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.
“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”
“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.
Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.
She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.
She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.
But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.
The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.
She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.
“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.
It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.
The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.
She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.
But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.
She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?
She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?
Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”
She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.
Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.
She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.
“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.
“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”
“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.
Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“
“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.
“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“
“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”
Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”
Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.
She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.
“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.
The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.
She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”
Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”
She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.
Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.
When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.
She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.
Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.
.           .           .
When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.
Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.
Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.
Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.
When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.
But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.
And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”
So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.
Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.
The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.
The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.
Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.
Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.
Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.
Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.
It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.
Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.
And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?
After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.
“What are you doing in here?”
Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.
Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.
She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.
“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”
Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.
“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”
Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”
Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.
Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.
A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”
Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”
She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”
The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”
Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”
“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”
She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”
When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.
Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.
“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.
Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.
Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.
“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.
“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”
She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.
But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.
“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”
Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.
“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.
“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.
He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”
She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.
But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.
Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”
She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.
He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”
Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.
And her stepson she reminded herself.
“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“
“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”
She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.
Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”
Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.
She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.
“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.
Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.
Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.
But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.
Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.
“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”
.           .           .
Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.
Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.
So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.
Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.
It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.
Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.
She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”
The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.
Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…
She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”
Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.
He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.
Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.
“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.
She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”
“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”
“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”
He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.
Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –
Too late.
When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.
“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.
“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.
She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”
Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”
Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.
Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.
She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.
“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.
Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”
When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.
Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.
Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.
“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.
“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.
When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.
“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.
The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”
She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”
Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.
“Fuck. Please yes.”
“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.
“For you, I will.”
“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.
Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.
Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”
Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.
Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”
“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”
Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.
He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.
“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.
He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.
When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.
Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.
She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”
Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”
Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”
“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”
Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”
There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.
“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.
“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”
Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.
“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”
Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.
Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.
When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”
Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”
His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.
Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”
Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”
He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.
He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.
“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”
He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”
So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.
“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.
His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.
She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.
Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”
Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.
Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.
Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.
“Fuck, Harry.”
She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.
Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.
Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”
She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.
Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”
She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.
Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”
Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”
The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.
Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”
Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”
Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.
Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”
Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.
“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.
“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”
Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”
“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.
The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.
“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.
Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.
“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”
“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.
He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”
The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.
“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?”
He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.
“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”
Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.
Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.
She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”
The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.
They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.
It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.
Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.
He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.
He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.
A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.
Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”
“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”
Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.
“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.
Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.
“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”
The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.
“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”
Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.
“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.
“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”
Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.
“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”
Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.
Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.
Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.
Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.
Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.
Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.
“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”
Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.
Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.
Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”
Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.
“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”
Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.
“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”
Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”
Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.
“Y…yes. Just for you.”
Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”
Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”
Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”
“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”
“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”
“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”
He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”
She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.
Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.
“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.
Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.
She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.
He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”
The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.
“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.
Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.
Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.
He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.
“Fuck, Harry!”
They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.
When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.
Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.
He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.
“Are you okay?”
Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.
She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“
“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”
She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.
“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.
Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”
Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”
He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.
“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”
Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”
He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”
She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”
“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”
He was sure she’d say no.
Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.
“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”
Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”
They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.
It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.
“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.
“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”
“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”
Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist
A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!
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thewulf · 5 months
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It's Everything || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - Hello:) hope you're well and having a good week:) I was wondering if i could get a Jake Seresin x reader where they're friends but they both feel something more. Jake always teases her cause he likes to see her blush... Read Rest Here
A/N: This just felt like a 3x1 so it is! The three times Jake was sweet on you and the one time he had to do something about it. I really like this one :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 4.8k +
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TW: Talks of assault, men being men, blood
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The Hard Deck
“There she is.” Jake’s overly pretty face broke out into a smile seeing you walk up to the group looking more than exasperated. How could you not though? The entire dagger squad was. You guys were more than exhausted. Yet here you were. Drinking beer on a Tuesday night, “Worried you weren’t going to make it out tonight darlin’.” He shot you a wink as you sat across from him taking some airmen’s spot.
You couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet boy who’d captured your heart without a second thought, “I wasn’t going to.” You hummed grabbing for his beer knowing he’d let you take a drink before getting one for yourself.
His eyes raised in curiosity as he drunk you in. Even tired you were prettier than you knew. He couldn’t believe some lucky guy hadn’t caught your attention yet. He was only bidding his time. He didn’t really want to make a serious move until after the mission. He could make it another few weeks, maybe.
“What brought you here then pretty girl? My handsome face?” Shameless. He was diabolically shameless. Leaning forward you caught the slight tilt of his head as he watched you. He always seemed to have an eye on you.
And damn your genetics for giving you the rosiest cheeks that only seemed to darken when you talked with him. You caught the snicker of his longtime military buddy, Payback. He patted Jake’s back before walking off knowing that as soon as you walked in all of Jake’s attention was only going towards once place, you. He was an absolute damn sucker for you, and he’d only known you for a little over two weeks.
It started with a smart-ass comment back to Rooster that caught his attention the first day in class. You fully grabbed it when you became the first pilot to actually take down Maverick, even before he did. He knew he had to get to know you when you put him in his place after he knowingly screwing you over in the air. But damn, did it feel good to be getting some attention from you. Even if you were yelling with all your might.
“Something like that.” You mumbled out knowing there wasn’t a use in lying to the man you’d too hopelessly fallen for. He’d figure it out one way or another, he always seemed to. It didn’t help you weren’t the best liar either.
He grinned all too thrilled with your admission, “Hmm, is that so? You came out of the house for me?”
Rolling your eyes you took another sip of his beer, “Well, you invited me. And I said I’d come. So, here I am.” Trying to play it off as coy as possible giving him a bashful smile in the process.
“Since you’re here then, can I get you beer sweetheart?” He played along with you
Nodding your head, you finally relaxed back into your seat, “I wouldn’t stop you.”
He shook his head stifling the laugh that came out. He knew how he acted around you and he tried his hardest to not act like a middle school girl with the biggest crush but you… you brought out a giddiness he never knew could come from relationships. After his college girlfriend shattered his heart he swore off relationships altogether. Afterall, he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. But then you walked into his life. You seemed to challenge his harder than anybody had before but did it in such a way that he wanted to be better. You kept him on his toes, in the best way of course. He was falling faster and faster day in and day out. And he didn’t know how to stop it. He didn’t think he wanted to stop it.
Before walking away, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Always taking a chance at giving you a soft touch. He simply craved it. He realized it after Rueben pointed out that he was always trying to sit next to you in class. He’d tried to avoid the topic of you, but Rueben knew. He knew Jake was into you, really into you. Jake made sure never to cross any boundaries with you, always asking before doing.
Jake set the light beer down in front of you before sitting in the seat across from you, “You did good today. Set the fastest time yet.” He spoke as his eyes roamed your face.
You sighed. You did set the fastest time. Just over two and a half minutes. But it still wasn’t good enough. And you didn’t really think you had much more to give, “Not good enough.”
He bit back the frown that wanted to come through, “Cut yourself some slack.”
You finally made eye contact with him again. Just that damn gaze could set your cheeks on fire. He had to know. You hadn’t admitted it out loud, but your face gave you dead away.
“Do you?” You asked him. You weren’t trying to be an ass but you this was you. Always challenging him.
He shook his head quickly letting the smile come through, “No.”
“See.” You took a long sip of beer hoping it’d hit you sooner than it probably would.
He set his glass down at this same time you did. Again, he leaned forward, “You know as well as me that you’ll be the first to get there in 2 minutes. Give yourself a week. You’ll figure it out.” He took your hand that lingering by your half drunken glass of beer. Giving it another gentle squeeze, you felt all the love from him in that moment. How in the hell was this the same man you’d heard so many stories about?
“Awfully confident in me Seresin.” Your eyes watched his thumb rub against your pointer finger hoping to give you an ounce of comfort.
“Come on darlin’. You’re the most confident pilot I know. You’ve got a reason to be too. Don’t get soft of me know.”
You scrunched your nose before shaking your head, “I’m not going soft. I just don’t know if it’s physically possible Jake. I’m beat. And I’m still fifteen fucking seconds off the mark.” You looked down in defeat. Damn that jet for always getting the better of you. Your favorite weapon that always seemed to hurt you too.
“Mav did it.” Jake laced his fingers in with yours wanting to feel
“Mav’s Mav.”
“And you’re you.” He shrugged your comment off like it was nothing. Jake was never for building people up. Especially not the people that he was competing against. But damn, you showed up out of nowhere and completely rocked his world. Changed his viewpoint.
Rolling your eyes, you avoided his gaze sure your face was already red as a summer ripe tomato, “Flirt.”
He hummed in agreement, “Yeah sure. But I think you like it.” He knew it was a risk. He might’ve been crossing a line you hadn’t set. His heart began to hammer in his chest as the anxiety of what he just said rang through his ears.
He caught your eyes as you looked up in surprise, “I do. That I do.”
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Bob’s House
You walked through the front door of Bob’s house the next Sunday night wearing one of Jake’s old Cowboy’s jerseys that he swore wasn’t too big for you. Setting down the tray of cookies you picked up from the grocery store down you turned to Jake, “Alright, who are we rooting for?”
He grinned as he took the jacket of your hands with the intention of hanging it up for you, “We went through this in the car darlin’.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed Jake. You know I don’t watch football!” A quiet laugh escaped from your mouth
He shook his head while laughing with you, “The Cowboys. America’s team. Even got a star to prove it.” He smiled with achievement pointing to the star on his chest.
Bob walked in hearing the tail end of the conversation, “Don’t listen to him Y/N. Can’t believe you made her wear that.” He pointed to your jersey, “She should be wearing a cheese head. Packer green.”
“That’s not right Bob.” Jake shook his head quickly.
“Oh boy.” You laughed at the both of them giving the other a stare down, “You guys take this seriously then?”
Jake smiled at your cluelessness to it all. It amazed him that somebody so in the trenches with all these men would be so clueless to the NFL. The thing that consumed eighteen weeks of all the guys lives ever year.
“It’s a good escape.” Bob spoke up before heading out of the kitchen, “Come on. The loveseat is saved for you guys.”
Jake laughed at your brightening face. He’d found it so endearing about you. No matter how hard you seemed to try it never stopped the cute little blush that came upon your face when somebody mentioned the both of you together. Jake loved showing off the growing relationship between the two of you. You were much shyer about it than he was. Not ashamed, no never. Just shy as all get out.
Jake held his hand out for you to take. He noticed the slight hesitation as your fingers laced together with his. Your mind never let you enjoy the small things as it started reeling from what all your dagger squad members could think. In reality they knew the two of you had a thing for the other. Jake was rather obvious about it. Nat even cornered you at one point in the week demanding answers which you really couldn’t give. You didn’t have a clue what to label it. You did admit you had feelings for him to her.
Your worst fears didn’t come to life as nobody even really noticed the two of you joining the watch party. You took a seat at the open loveseat leaving Jake more than enough room.
Waiting for you to get comfortable he slid into the seat right next to you before snaking his arm behind your head letting you know it would be more than fine to cuddle on up to him if you wished. He knew you were hesitant about the entire thing. He wasn’t dumb. He didn’t want to scare you off before he even had a chance. He’d take it slow and strategic. However he needed to.
“Here.” He grabbed the blanket on the headrest and threw it over mostly you, with a little bit covering half of him, “I know how cold you get.” He waited and was more than happy to see his favorite blush coat your cheeks.
“Nothing gets past you, does it Jake?” You turned to him scooting just a bit closer, letting your leg brush against his.
He nodded, “Nothing you do does sweetheart.” He shot you a wink knowing just how mad it’d drive you. He found utter enjoyment in seeing you react to his advances. He knew if he was doing the right thing or not. You were so much gentler than any of the other girls he usually went for. A fucking menace in the skies and a levelheaded pilot on the ground. He knew he’d never grow tired of getting to know you and your quirks. He just knew he’d grow to love every single one of them. Trouble didn’t begin to describe this situation.
Slowly over the course of the game, you sunk closer and closer to Jake. You cheered when he did and booed the same. Watching more of Jake than the game. It wasn’t lost on him. He caught your glances a few times. He tried not to look because it spooked you. It would take a while again before he saw you out of the corner of his eye watching him again. He liked when you looked at him. He wanted to know what you were thinking. Dying to know really.
He grabbed at your hand just after halftime, underneath the blanket for your sake. He liked it when you were relaxed and at ease. He really just liked you. Wanting you to be happy was all.
Near the end of the game, he gave your shoulder a squeeze garnering your attention to him. He smiled as his eyes landed on yours, “Yeah Jake?” You whispered trying not to have any watching eyes on the two of you.
“I haven’t told you how pretty you look tonight.” He whispered in your ear for discretion.
It’s like he was trying to kill you right then and there. God, you adored the man far more than you should, “Thanks Jake.” You turned your head towards his catching his intense gaze once more.
“Anytime beautiful.” He shot you a wink before draping his arm around your shoulder once more. He pulled you into his side a touch more. He watched as you finally got comfortable enough to lay you head on his side. You were tired after all. It was close to eleven on a Sunday night.
“You’re so sweet too me.” You whispered just loud enough for him to hear. Of course the two of you would be having this kind of conversation within earshot of half your class.
He shook his head, “I disagree. Not sweet enough. Just you wait darlin’.”
You looked at him curiously, “For what?”
“You’ll see. Gotta impress you and all that. For when I ask you to be my girlfriend.” Jake was pushing the boundaries and he loved seeing your face light up
“Really?”
“Really, really.  We just gotta get through the mission first. Can’t give you any distractions.” And Jake was serious. He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt at his expense or vice versa.
You nodded your head quickly before diverting your eyes away from him. Damn. He really did like you. It might not be too good to be true.
“Alright.” You breathed out.
He smiled giving your shoulder one last comforting squeeze, “Just you wait.”
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Before A Training Exercise
“Rooster, Hangman. You two are up first today. Winner picks punishment.” Mav spoke knowing exactly what he was doing by pairing the two men. The manual shut with a thud dismissing the class to get changed. Mornings were meant for class and the afternoons were jet time.
You turned to Jake sitting next to you giving him a quick once over. Trying your best to hide the look of concern on your face you turned away quickly. Instead of saying anything you opted to pack up your bag. Why’d you have to make things so awkward suddenly? Why’d you have to go liking him? It was easy the first week when your heart was clueless to the fact you’d fall in love with the man. Now you acted all weird around him all the sudden. It’s like your brain forgot how to communicate with him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly next to you, leaning closer so nobody would hear. Nobody would hear though because almost everybody was gone. Just the two of you and a few stragglers near the door remained in the classroom.
You shook him off trying your best to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, “Nothing’s wrong.”
Giving you a rather dramatic frown, he put a gentle hand on your shoulder, so you’d stop being so distracted with your bag and focus back on him. Again, Jake wasn’t stupid. He began noticing the small tweaks in the way you acted. The way you began to close off to his advances. Like you were suddenly so nervous around him. He had a sneaking suspicion as too why, but he didn’t want to presume. He needed to knock down those walls you’d been slowly building back up. Lucky for you, Jake was up for the challenge. He was convinced he’d do damn near anything for you.
Once your eyes finally landed on his he spoke up, “Y/N… come on. I know you better than that.”
Your heart rate rapidly picked up with that damn look he was giving you. So soft and sweet. A look he’d never be caught giving on base if he wasn’t absolutely sure all the guys were gone. A look seemingly only reserved for you and only you.
“Just, be careful out there, alright?” You asked, nearly begged him.
A small smile rose from the face full of concern, “You worried about me sweetheart?” That sweet smile turned into a teasing smirk knowing that’d get your face to heat up.
And it sure did, “Shut up Jake.”
He laughed while pulling your chair closer to his, “You don’t need to be worried about me darlin’. It’s just Rooster.”
“Just Rooster?” You laughed this time, “Jake you two nearly collided playing a game of chicken last time you were up in the air.
After a few moments of silence, he spoke up once more, “I’ll admit, that was dumb. Cyclone made that very clear to us. That won’t happen again, promise.” He smiled over to you trying to reassure your worries. He found it quite endearing just how worried you seemed to be. Jake was naturally observant, especially when it came to the people he loved. You were certainly at the top of his list. So, he noticed a lot about you. How you couldn’t seem to keep your hands still. How you wouldn’t meet his eyes no matter how hard he tried. The slight flush of your cheeks and the way you bit your lips together. You were concerned for him.
You sighed deciding it was better to just let it out. Might as well. He made it very clear to you how he felt. Now, it was your turn, “You fly as if nobody cares for you Jake. Like you don’t care if you crash. God, Jake I don’t think I’d be able to get back in a jet if I ever saw you go down. I just… I worry about you. A lot.”
He grabbed at your hand giving it a squeeze, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I do care though. You know that to be the best you have to make some calculated risks…”
Your sigh stopped him in his tracks. Slowly, you turned your head towards him. When your eyes met his it hit him how much this had been affecting you.
“Is it worth it?” You paused waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t you continued on with your thoughts, “One of these calculated risks could fucking kill you Jake. You know what happened to Roosters dad. Accidents happen Jake.”
He nodded quickly before pulling you into his chest, “If I’m honest with you. Yes, it was worth it. Before you came along. You’re making a lot of choices difficult darlin’.” He laughed nervously not expecting this conversation in the slightest. Jake was always cool, calm, and collected. He was always prepared. You threw him for a loop though. Made him all sorts of nervous.
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled feeling somewhat… ashamed? By the conversation going on between the two of you. Talking about these kinds of things felt so foreign to you. Guys never really truly paid you much attention so kindly before. Sure, you’ve had a boyfriend or two. But they always turned out to be the scummy men you should’ve known better of getting involved with. But damn, all you wanted was some love. You had a lot of it to give.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s a good thing.” He grinned while taking your chin in his hand turning your head slowly towards him, “It’s a very good thing pretty girl.”
And damn, the look in his eyes was giving you love. So much love in the way he looked at you. It’s exactly what you wanted. Who would’ve thought one of these asshole pilots would have actually captured your heart so effortlessly? But Jake, Jake was different.
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The Concert
Nat invited a few of you out to the local concert venue for a small show for a band she loved. You agreed to go just in spirit of making Nat happy. She’d become one of your closest friends and confidants over the last few weeks. Pushing yourself beyond the limits you thought possible day in and day out really bonded people together. You’d long since forgotten the competition amongst the group.
Jake wasn’t going to go until Natasha name dropped you in the conversation. It made her laugh how quickly his tune changed once he realized you were going. Any excuse he could make to be near you he would. How you couldn’t see that so clearly was beyond Nat’s understanding. It made her sick how idiotic the two of you were being. She knew Jake was planning to ask you out after the mission, she just thought it was dumb he was waiting for so long. She thought you’d be more distracted by him waiting. But it wasn’t her fight to pick. So, she stayed as quiet as Nat could.
She grabbed your hand leading you out to where some people gathered to dance knowing you wouldn’t object like all her fellow airmen would.
“You know he’s obsessed with you right?” Your eyes rose in surprise at her straightforwardness. Although, it shouldn’t have surprised you. It was Nat after all. She let you know her feelings.
“Who?”
Rolling her eyes, she found a good spot off to the side where the two of you could chat and dance without much interruption, “Seresin. Don’t play dumb with me Y/L/N.”
“I know he likes me. I don’t think he’s obsessed with me though.” You looked down thankful for the darkly lit room hiding your surly on fire cheeks.
She threw her head back in laughter, “He’s watching you right now. He’s always watching to make sure you’re okay. You may not notice it but some of us do. Reuban has to snap him out of his daze half the time, he’s lost in thought watching you.”
Your grin couldn’t be contained. That made you far too happy to hear. Before you could reply though somebody bumped into you. Thankful your drink was almost gone or it would’ve spilled right into Natasha.
“Oh, sorry gorgeous. Didn’t see you there.” He shot you a wink which did not do it for you. He was much older than you.
“S’fine.” You turned back to Nat with wide eyes hoping the man would
He didn’t get the hint though, “Care for a dance?”
You shook your head quickly not turning back to him completely. Nat watched with an amused grin on her face. It wasn’t uncommon for either of you to get hit on. Two pretty girls surrounded by a bunch of men. That’s why you typically only went to places with the guys. You knew you’d always be safe should something arise.
“No, not really.” You shot back at him.
Nat’s eyes bounced back and forth between you and the creepy man and Jake suddenly much more alert. He noticed the change in your body stance, far more defensive. How your face looked annoyed even from across the room. He all but ran over to you when the man put his hand on your shoulder.
“Aw, come on gorgeous.”
You shook his hand off, “I said no.”
He rolled his eyes, seemingly accepting your answer. Jake sat back down seeing the man vanish into the crowd. He’d just have to keep a closer eye out on you, that was all. His eyes scanned the crowd, frowning when he found Nat but not you. She pointed towards the other side of the room where the bathrooms were. He sent her a quick nod before getting up and making his way over to them. Might as well escort you if he could.
When he got close to the single stall door though his blood ran cold when he heard your raised voice muffle a, “I said get off me.”
Jake didn’t hesitate to open the door, rip the man from your grasp and throw him against the wall before kicking him while he was down. You, completely surprised by the turn of events watched with wide eyes as Jake went in for a second kick to the stomach.
“Jake, let’s go.” You pleaded. Afraid he’d do something the both of you would regret later on.
He turned to you getting ready to argue back but when he saw your scared expression and fidgeting hands, “Alright, darlin’.” He took your hand and led you out of the venue quickly, not turning back to hear the commotion behind you when the next person went into the bathroom stall.
He only stopped once the both of you were in front of his truck, “Did he hurt you?” His eyes scanned you quickly stopping seeing the rips in your shirt and the blood dripping down one of your arms.
“No, I’m fine. I got him first. Punched him right in the nose before you jumped in. Thanks for that.” You gave him a soft
“You’re bleeding sweetheart.” He pointed to your arm with the fairly surface level cut.
Eyes looking down you frowned, “Oh.” Then you noticed the rips, “Damn, this was one of my favorite shirts.”
He laughed softly. Thankful you were seemingly fine. More annoyed by the rips than the cuts, “Come on, hop on in. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”
“Home?” You were curious as to where he’d be taking you.
He nodded opening his truck door for you to hop in, “Back to mine? If that’s alright with you.”
You jumped up to his wish and grinned, “Yeah, that works.”
“Good, I could use the company anyway. That band sucked. Nat has the weirdest taste.”
You laughed as he shut your door and walked around to the driver’s side, sliding in much easier than you did.
“I didn’t think they were too bad.” You hummed leaning back into the seat letting the adrenaline of the last thirty minutes die down.
“Oh, they were awful. Speaking of which, mind texting the group? I’m sure they’re starting to get worried.”
You agreed sending a quick message from your phone to the small group that had gone out that Friday night. You grinned when Nat sent you a winky face back separately from the boys. The ride home was fairly quiet as you rode back in a comfortable silence. He helped you out and into his apartment which was way cuter than you were expecting. Of course, leave it to him to continuously surprise you.
“You sure you’re alright? You’re awfully quiet.” He asked you while he got the first aid kit from the kitchen. He had you sitting down on his couch a room away.
“Mhmm, I’m fine. Just tired.” You yawned, “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m just annoyed I didn’t get to you sooner. He hurt you.”
You smiled feeling the love radiating from him, “Didn’t even feel it, honestly.”
“Still, I’m sorry.” He frowned while wiping it clean with an alcohol wipe. You let out a soft hiss when it crossed the open wound, “Shit, sorry darlin’. Should’ve warned you.” His frowned deepened.
“Stop apologizing. Thank you Jake. You got there in plenty of time. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Honestly.” You brushed a soft hand across his cheek oh so thankful that he did intervene when he did.
This time he looked down and away feeling the blush on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to you being so forthcoming with him. Maybe, just maybe, he was rubbing off on you.
“It’s nothing.” He tried brushed it off.
But you wouldn’t take that for an answer, no. You took his chin in your hand feeling all kinds of bold as he looked back at you with the softest eyes. Your favorite look on him.
“Don’t say that Jake. It’s everything. You’re everything.” You wanted to kiss him, God you wanted to. But you’d respect his wishes and pull back.
But even he couldn’t respect his own wishes as he took your head in his hands murmuring a, “I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright.”
“That’s definitely alright.” You grinned with utter glee. Jake closed the distance letting your lips connect for the first of many, many kisses the two of you would share.
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Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem
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Silly Husband!König decided to give it a try to one of Soap’s girlfriend’s ideas. Out with the boys for a beer, he let it slip that in some weeks you’d celebrate your first anniversary and he’s just scared of not being able to make you live a night full of passion, he’s getting a bit old after all.
Some of the girlfriends were trying to give him lots of advice, “don’t watch porn, don’t masturbate, don’t be overly sexual because you might not be able to get it up”, Soap’s girlfriend casually mentions just taking some aphrodisiacs and calling it a night (better if taken some hours before the act, so sexual tension can be built up). Soap ends up telling König how it actually works and how his girlfriend never had a complaint while they used them, just make sure not to exaggerate with the dose/the amount of times you use it.
Husband!König returning home to you, finding your precious self asleep on the couch as his heart starts pounding and blood rushing, he just loves you so much, he will not risk anything to ruin the day of your anniversary. He brings you to your shared bed and gently tucks you in, kissing your temple as he gets out the room, closing the door slowly so he doesn’t wake you up.
Husband!König that spends the night on the computer and researches the topic of aphrodisiacs, writing down every pro and con he finds. He goes thru a list of the safest ones to buy and chooses the absolute best one, paying a good amount of money for it, but it’s all for his sweet lady upstairs, he would pay millions just to make sure she’s safe.
Husband!König that receives his package and runs to hide it asap, so you don’t see or suspect anything. Your anniversary it’s in a week, he can’t risk to ruin the whole surprise. The bottle it’s actually small, or maybe his hands are too big (umm.. DUH?), but he reads the instructions very well, aside from trying to remember what the website he bought this thing from said. A maximum of 2 drops mixed with anything, or just plopped in the mouth and swallowed, if taken more, there was not really any risk, the state of the aphrodisiac would just last longer, but don’t go over 5 drops, it’ll be painful to deal with the effects for DAYS!
Husband!König is getting ready for your dinner, being finally the day of your anniversary, and as you’re still stuck on your make up, he prepares two glasses of champagne for you two to drink before going. Of course he has a reason to, he squeezes, well he tries to, some drops of the aphrodisiac. He’s careful to remember not to go above 5 drops, and decides to be precautious, he’s squeezing in 2 for you, you’re a young lady, your stamina still pretty high, while he gives himself double, 4 drops hoping he didn’t fuck up, still, he’ll think later about consequences. He brings the glasses upstairs to you, and you both drink, you thank him and notice how he is not able to keep his hands off you already. You have to drag him outside the house, or you’re risking your dress ripped off and your makeup destroyed, but it’s still too early for that!!
Husband!König that’s being tasted for the whole duration of the dinner, you caress his hands, your foot seductively touching his leg, running up and down his calf, your eyes focusing on his face and never breaking eye contact, your lips, your voice, everything about you is so sexy and seductive, and he can’t wait to just bring you home and give you a proper fuck, one you’ll never forget, and not because it’s your first anniversary together, but because he really plans to fuck you good, worship you but still get you all dirty and messed up for him. He’s a man of thought, he bought condoms, he has lube, even bought one that tastes like strawberry, he’ll pour it on your pussy and enjoy himself between your legs for a good amount of time. He has cuffs, ropes, toys that you would already regularly use, but tonight he wants to push you to the limits, he’ll probably stick his cock inside your pussy while he fucks your ass with a dildo, he’ll make sure to torture your clit with a vibrator while he fucks your ass, and play with your tits, maybe even sticking his cock between them too! Night’s young and he has a lot of plans, he can tell that his magic drops are working on you also, not just on him, because the moment you both leave the restaurant you’re leeched onto him, grabbing, touching, tracing his body and hungrily kissing his lips when he allows you to. He’s a taste, he’s not lowering himself on purpose just to hear you beg and whine about wanting his lips.
Husband!König who stands on his title as a silly man, because he might be actually good with technology, but why would he not delete the chrome history on a computer he knew very well you were using too. Maybe it was a slip, maybe he really didn’t think that his searches would pop up on the search bar the moment you typed an ‘A’ onto the keyboard, eager to look for ‘Austrian foods’ to make for him, just to have ‘Aphrodisiacs for couples, pros and cons’ pop up as a recent search. Needless to say, you left it be, your silly husband was onto something and you were really exited to see how it would all play out. You knew the moment he brought you the glass of champagne, you knew what he had put inside, and you still drank all of it. Careful not to spill a drop. The night was long ahead, you knew, but were more than happy about it. Feeling your panties already sticking to your folds while in the car was an indicator that the aphrodisiac was indeed in your champagne, and it was working its magic already! Of course he wanted you to suffer a bit by giving it to you before dinner, but he mostly wanted to edge himself, force himself to have you all wet and ready for him the whole time you were at the restaurant, having to wait till back home to have you in every place and position he wanted.
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vixensbrainrotts · 4 months
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Aren’t you jealous? — Takashi Mitsuya
Content: short fluff
Tropes: established relationships, miscommunication
Warnings: not proof read
Summary: You and Mitsuya who have an undying trust in one another. So much so that when Mistuya is being too nice for his own good and then struggles under the reprocution, you just sit back, grin, and watch.
Vixen's two cents: hey! This has been collecting dust in the back of my drafts so I've decided to give it some love and let it see the light of day. I love mitsuya till the day I die and it's only a matter of time till I write something for Hakkai too (cutie). Anyway, remember that my requests are open if you have au idea you'd like to see! Now enjoy!
You take joy in watching Mitsuya grow uncomfortable around the overly-friendly girl who’s hanging off him like a tick. You had told him that she was no good before but he didn’t seem to care all that much, assuring you that he could handle it. Look who’s laughing now.
And when Hakkai comes up to you, face tinged pink with confusion (perhaps frustration?), and asks you why you’re not doing anything. You just smile and say “He can handle it, and if not I’ll know when to step in.”
Kai's eyes almost pop out of their sockets, his jaw basically hitting the floor. "What do you meannnn?" he whined in disbelief. "I mean that he did that to himself, I told him not to." You looked far too relaxed for Hakkai's liking and leaned back against one of the bar chairs on the kitchen island, one hand supporting your chin, the other grasping your drink.
"Youre just gonna let that happen?" Hakkai prompts again, completely baffled. "Yeah, look, he's coming crawling to me already." You smirk teasingly and nod your head in their direction. Mitsuya, clearly displeased, was weaving his way out of the girl's grasp, making a bee-line to where you and Hakkai were, but ever incessant on wooing him, the girl followed right after him.
"Hey there." you started once he entered your circle. Mitsuya and you made brief eye contact, his gaze screaming a plea before he looked to Hakkai, to whom he gave a weak greeting. “Hi.” He breathed, voice exhausted and annoyed as he rested both arms on the counter he was lying on.
"You seem... glowing." Hakkai tries to comment awkwardly, seeing the girl weasel her way to where the three of you are standing. Mitsuya only offers a disgruntled groan in return.
"Takashiiiiii! Are these your freindssss? you wanna introduce me already??? Hahahahahahah that's so sweet!!" The girl squealed and clung herself to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Your ears rung at her obnoxious laughter, the noise foreign and fake. The air grew uncomfortable when Mitsuya didnt respond,so she took the liberty of introducing herself, drawing out the short speech with elaborate (unnesseary) details, reaching over the counter to shake your hand.
You only looked at her, unimpressed, and look at her a bit pitifully. "This is the catch of the night Mr. Mitsuya?" you smiled down at the heap of a man, and he groaned in response. "Yes Mrs. Mitsuya, it seems that something got caught up in my net." It was a running gag between you two- and your friends to some sort: Mr and Mrs despite not being wed. It was clear that it was forever between you two though, so everyone just kinda went with it.
Little Miss disturbance didn't know of that though, and upon looking down at your hands and finding one (the wrong) ring finger embezzled with a promise ring, her mouth widened. Jaw on the floor and hands clammy, she slowly stepped away from Takashi and retreated. Fast. "It was, ah, uhh, pleasure meeting you mr and mrs mitsuya, let me know if you ever need a babysitter.”
Hakkai laughed out loud and clutched his stomach “You’re the best y/n! Man you totally owned her just now! Fuckin' wear the pants!" Te laughed and clapped a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, who had still not risen from his slumped pose. "You better not hire her though, I'll do it for free, swear I wanna watch your little beasts <3" Hakkai's voice had a serious edge now and he looked at you. "Make sure to tell me if he ever dares to treat you wrong. I'll rock his shit!"
Sighing you nod at Hakkai with a smile "Thanks Kai. Will do." you rounded the kitchen island and came to stand to next Takashi, resting your hand on his arm. "Good evening Mr. Mitsuya.” he pulled his head from the counter. "Good evening Mrs. Mitsuya." his drowsy eyes met yours - smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You smiled back, and before long your lips met his in a soft exchange of endearment.
Out of the corner of your eye you could see Hakkai turn red and turn away with a shy smile on his face too.
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leejenowrld · 3 months
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pussy drunk jeno that is so lost in pleasure that he can't hear your whines of how it's too much and physically drags you back when you try to crawl away
oh jeno gets so pussy drunk... he'll spend the whole night just making you cum with his tongue and his cock inside of you. he'll make you sit on his face, fingertips gripping the sides of your thighs to pull you in with one long stripe of his tongue, eating you out like a starved man. he's messy and rough with it, holding you closer to him when you whine and try to pull away. he does not let you move. if anything he's a lot more rough with his tongue fucking, fucking you through your orgasms, your cum and his drool falling down his cheek and he loves the feeling. he loves how tight and wet you are for him. he loves being inside of you, whether it's his tongue or his cock. then he'll eat you out again and again, his head caged in between your thighs, he just can't get enough of your pussy and your taste. the ariana grande song where she says "you drink it just like water, you say it tastes like candy" yeah!!! jeno!!! if there's a favourite taste in the world it's your cum!!!!
and i haven't even gotten onto the fucking. he's already fucked you dumb by eating you out and his cock hasn't even been inside of you. he sees how fucked out and whiny you are and he's like??? he tuts and shakes his head. it doesn't matter what the position is, he'll always get pussy drunk. he's fucking you from behind, you're meant to be on all fours in front of him but your knees are dropping and failing you. the only thing holding you up is his monster cock thrusting in and out of you, his hands gripping your hips and your ass cheeks, slapping your ass which only causes you to whine and move away more but he just grips harder, pulling you back without a word, spreading your walls further with his cock.
your ass and your boobs shake and bounce and he's crying at the sight. you're so fucking sexy. you're telling him it's too much, crying, begging, pleading, attempting to crawl away from him but you don’t say the safe word so all he does it bring you closer to him and fuck you even harder. you’re his good girl, his doll, so he knows that you can take it and you always impress him. moments later you get so needy and try to ride him, he’s so overly affectionate and just so in love with you that he just lets you use him to get off, chest against chest, hands smothering your hips and tits as he guides you up and down his cock, sweet words in your ears.
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bimbobaggins69 · 4 months
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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬.
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𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: imagine hate sex w ex boyfriend eddie!!! 😖😖😖 like you’re at a party that your good friend robin dragged you to and of course you had to see your ex!! and he catches you with another guys hands all over you and he gets insanely jealous and fucks you in a random room. degrading you, and slapping your ass and shit 😝😝
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, angst, sweet baby steve, mean!eddie, mentions of weed and alcohol, degradation, bitch is used twice, hair pulling, face slapping, choking, slight oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, rough hate sex, cream pie, steve and reader are end game.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you came through with this nonnie, hope you like <3 omg surprise yall this is not a steddie fic, I know crazy. Thank you to the loml @xxhellfirebunnyxx for reading and hyping me up!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k
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The bass booms from the speakers as some top 40s pop hit plays throughout the oversized house. The solo cup in your hand nips at your fingers, the condensation causes them to prune as you babysit the pungent spiked punch that sits halfway full, ice completely melted from your abandonment. 
You didn’t really want to come to this New Year’s party, but Robin begged and pleaded, telling you with her best puppy dog eyes that this could be her last chance to make a move on Vickie, so you bit the bullet and decided to make it a good night, the last of the year. 
In your efforts to forget about your ex boyfriend you had broken up with two weeks ago, you made up your mind that tonight you were going to move on; so you picked out your skimpiest black dress, knee high boots and did your make up and hair to perfection. You knew he’d be there but that was something you were eagerly trying to forget about, you weren’t getting cute for him, no. You weren’t spritzing on the perfume he loved, in an effort to grab his attention. Nope, not at all! 
Robin had left your side the minute you stepped through the door, but you couldn’t be too mad about it, you both had a game plan and she was very dedicated to finally getting the girl she’s been pining after all year. 
You take a sip of your overly spiked drink, not able to hide the distaste as your eyebrows furrow and your nose scrunches up in disgust. 
“Yeah, the punch is pretty awful.” A familiar voice says with a chuckle, when you turn your head in an attempt to put a face to it, you quickly realize it belongs to none other than Steve Harrington who’s smirking down at you, eyes roaming your body. Clearly his cocky king Steve persona has accompanied him. 
“Yeah, it tastes like ass.” You say with another scrunch of your nose making Steve cackle at your words. 
“Hey, I’m not even gonna ask how you know what that tastes like.” He says playfully, eyes growing darker as he moves closer into your space. “You’re not here with your little boy toy?” He observes as he looks around for Eddie, who normally held you as close to him as possible at these functions. 
“We broke up.” Steve’s face lights up like a Christmas tree at your words, like he’s excited that you’re now ‘on the market’. 
“Well, I would say sorry but…I’m not.” The bluntness of his words makes you crack a smile, which causes him to beam at you, a genuine pretty smile graces his lips. “You wanna dance?” He asks as he moves in closer, hands going straight to your hips. 
You quickly look around before answering, noticing a heavy amount of bodies on the makeshift dance floor. “Um, sure why not?” You glance around one more time as you feel eyes on you, but no one seems to be paying you and Steve a lick of attention. 
West end girls by pet shop boys begin to play from the heavy booming speakers, and you can’t help but smile hard as it’s one of your favorites. Steve’s hands graze over your hips and the small of your back as you both dance, a serious dance turning into silly attempts to make each other laugh and it works, he’s completely made you forget about your shithead ex. When two of hearts by Stacey Q starts playing you’re both touching each other in ways that are anything but friendly, his hands move to your ass as your hips grind against his. You can’t help but feel the slight hard on behind his blue jeans, the feeling of it on your hip has you biting at your glossed lip. 
It was easy to lose yourself to the beat of the music and in the gentle, sweet touches of Steve’s soft hands, the total opposite of Eddie’s rough calloused ones. 
“You’re so beautiful,” the former jock whispers into your ear, and his words have your heart pounding and your thighs begging to clench. “I always thought so.” He finishes before pulling you even closer, arms wrapped snug around your body. 
As the music slows and holding back the years by simply red begins to play, Steve grabs your hips a little rougher, looking down at you with a smile full of longing. He moves in and your breath hitches, thinking he’s moving in to kiss you but instead he places a chaste kiss right on the side of your neck, it's sweet and gentle, just like him. It’s not something that you’re entirely used to, not something you normally enjoyed. But maybe something you need. 
When the song ends you pull away with a small smile, “I have to use the restroom really quick, I’ll be back okay?” His smile falters a bit but doesn’t drop completely, he shakes his head and places his hands in his pockets, moving closer to the couch so he can sit and wait for you. The whole display pulls at your heart strings and makes your feet move faster across the hardwood floor, so you can get back to him quicker. 
But once you enter the dark hall, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and pull you. You squeak out a scream and a hand covers your mouth, but before you can lash out and begin kicking and screaming; a very, very familiar set of brown eyes meet yours. 
“Shut up.” Eddie hissed as he closed the door to some random bedroom, locking it before you can even wrap your head around what’s going on. “You havin’ fun out there with your little friend?” The anger in his voice is prevalent as he looks you up and down and shakes his head, as if he has any right to be disappointed. 
“Yeah, actually I was having a great time until you came along.” You seethe before turning to wrap your hand around the doorknob. 
“Wait, can we talk, please? Cmon sweetheart, this is killing me. I miss you.” His big doe eyes are dilated and you can smell the weed on his leather jacket, and the remnants of it on his hand that had been placed over your mouth five seconds ago. 
“You’re high Eddie. Don’t you have other girls to bother?” You say, rolling your eyes before a sneer graces your futures.  
“I told you, she’s a friend. She supports the band's music, that's it! I’ve never fucked her, baby. I swear.” His big eyes look so inviting and honest but you know what you saw, they were flirting and he looked way to into it for it to be friendly. 
“Whatever, who cares anymore. Can I leave?” You say with a bitter taste in your mouth for this conversation, you’re done and you just want Eddie to leave you alone so you can get back to your fun night with Steve. 
“No, you can’t.” He says before his hands move to your hips, “if this is it, let me have you one last time princess, please?” His fingertips dig into your skin hard, it makes your legs twitch and your panties start to dampen. 
“One last time?” You ask as you study his face. 
“If that’s what you want, then yes.” He says as his shoulders slump at the thought of never having you again. 
“Fine, but make it quick. I have someone I want to get back to.” Your stomach sours at the thought of leaving Steve to have sex with your ex. But you don’t really owe anything to Steve, it’s not like you came here together and now you’re ditching him, or like you’re even together at all. That’s enough to have you grabbing and tugging at Eddie’s stupid belt. The way you tug at his clothes and scratch at his skin is very obvious this is going to be a hate fuck, and he’s not mad at the idea. Needing to let out some pent up feelings of having to see you and that fucking square Harrington on the dance floor, all cuddled up and shit. 
He rips your dress over your head, smirking at the site in front of him. No bra, just black lace panties that sit high on your hips. He licks his lips as he takes you in, just your panties and knee high boots. A fucking vision. 
“Get on the bed you little slut.” He orders and a thrill runs through your body at his words “legs open for me, let me see you.” He grunts out another demand before moving in closer, walking up to the bed like a predator ready to pounce on their prey. “Were you planning on fucking that loser?” He asks through gritted teeth at the thought of you underneath Steve as he treats you like a fucking piece of glass. That’s not what you need, not what you want either and he knows that. 
“Not tonight.” You say with a sweet smile, it’s fake and Eddie can see right through it. His big ringed hand comes down and grabs a handful of your hair, “what the fuck is that supposed to mean, huh?” His face is now inches from yours as he waits for an answer, teeth clenching together making his jaw tighten with anger.
“I wasn’t planning on fucking him tonight, but if we hit it off, which we were. Then yeah, I’d probably fuck him if we went out again.” You answer back boldly, way too boldly for the man in front of you who has your hair wrapped around his knuckles, his face is the most visibly pissed you’d ever seen him. “You’d really let him touch you? Touch what’s mine?” His lips are just inches from yours, his warm weed breath hits your nose and god, you want to kiss him so bad. 
But you don’t, that’s not what this is about. 
“I’m not yours anymore, remember?” You remind him as your lips pull away from the too close proximity of his, an eyebrow shoots up on your forehead as if to say ‘what are you waiting for?’, making Eddie immediately jump into action, ripping your panties off your frame in one quick and rough motion. 
“You will always be mine, no matter what happens between us, I need you to get that through your thick fucking skull.” He grates before slapping your cheek harshly. “My pussy, my ass, my mouth. Mine always.” His fingertips grab and dig into the hollows of your cheeks as he hovers over you between your spread thighs. “Say you understand. Say you’re my little whore.” His fingers dig into you even harsher, making your teeth poke at the skin. You whine in pain, but fuck if you aren’t completely soaked from how rough he’s being with you. 
“I’m your little whore.” You whine, his tight grip on your cheeks doesn’t falter, his mischievous eyes look over your face as he smiles down at you, as if all the love he’d once had dissipated into thin air. 
“That’s a good little slut, knows her place.” He hummed in satisfaction “You gonna keep being good for me, or you gonna be a brat?” His eyebrows shoot up in question as he licks his plump lips. 
“Yes, I’ll be good for you.” He gives one more slap to your cheek before he begins removing his jeans off his hips to drop at his boots, then he removes his blue checkered boxers in one tug. 
He grabs his hard cock at the base as he continues to look over your body, lying useless on the plush bed. “Gotta give it a kiss before you say goodbye, baby.” His grin eats up his entire face as his laugh lines deepen. As if on command you get up onto your knees and duck your head down to kiss and mouth at his leaking tip. You couldn’t lie, you were going to miss this no matter how much of an asshole he was. 
“That’s it. Good little greedy bitch.” His head tilts back on his shoulders as he releases a deep breath. 
Before you can take him fully into your mouth he reaches down and grabs your neck roughly, throwing you back onto the tacky duvet. 
“Didn’t tell you you could suck it. Did I?” His voice is a low rumble, making you heat up from the inside out. 
“Mm-mm.” Is all you can say as he squeezes the sides of your neck, not hard enough to restrict air flow but hard enough to have your eyes rolling back in pleasure. 
“Then be my good little cum dump and listen to what the fuck I say.” He strokes his cock faster, bringing it up to your soaked folds and slapping it against your clit, hard. 
“Fuck!” You cry out before he begins soothing it with soft rubs of his frenulum against your throbbing nub, creating the perfect friction that has you hissing and groaning. 
“Perfect little pussy. You think Stevie can fuck this little cunt like I can? You think he’s gonna give you what you need?” He whispers hotly, cock now prodding at your dripping hole, he pushes in with one quick thrust and sheethes himself more than halfway inside of you, making your legs hike up over his hips and wrap around his back. Most of his clothes are still on, besides his black jeans and blue boxers that are pooled at his ankles. His leather jacket and megadeth shirt still covering all the parts you want to bite and suck on. 
“Answer me! You think Steve can fuck you the way you need to be fucked? Like the filthy slut you are?” Eddie's words get cruder as his voice gets meaner, your lip pouts but he doesn’t miss the way you clench, so warm and tight around him. 
“No, no one fucks me like you Eddie!” You mewl, it’s true but the words feel like molten lava when they leave your mouth, not wanting to give him that ego boost he’s begging for. 
“I’m gonna cum in this cunt and you’re gonna go back out there to your little boyfriend with me dripping down your fucking leg.” He thrusts harder into your walls, grabbing your legs and folding you in half as he uses you like his own personal fuck toy. 
His ringed hand finds its way back in your hair, tugging harshly as he begins kissing your jaw, down to your throat and then the tops of your tits as they bounce from his rough movements. 
“You sexy little bitch.” He pulls your hair harder as his other hand moves between your writhing bodies, he rubs his thumb against your clit fast and with entirely too much pressure but the way his cock is hitting your spot over and over you can’t help but to let go, your high instantly taking over; legs shaking and head thrown back as you succumb to the bliss that Eddie never fails to bring you. 
“Oh fuck! Im gonna fill you the fuck up, so full baby, you’re gonna be so full of me.” He laughs like he’d beat you at whatever game this was, he did. And that thought has you pushing him off as soon as he’s done.
You pull your panties back on and tug your dress up. Giving the metalhead one more death glare before you yank the door open, leaving it to slam behind you. 
You move back out into the crowd of people, looking everywhere for those chestnut locks and honey eyes, as your heart pounds through your ears. You feel terrible, but you just can’t help yourself with Eddie. He knows your body too well, knows exactly how to get you going. But that’s all going to change, no more weakness, no more giving into his bad boy smirk and big dumb eyes. 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you okay? Thought you left without saying goodbye.” Steve says as he comes out of the jam packed kitchen. 
“Sorry, I-I um,” you didn’t want to lie, you felt like you owed him the truth at least, especially if this was gonna go anywhere. “I ran into Eddie and we talked.” You look down at your leather boots as the lie falls from your lips, you didn’t want to outright say ‘I’m sorry I fucked my ex while I should’ve been out here with you.’ 
“Just talked?” His eyes find yours, but his face is so kind and earnest, you just want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go. 
“Well, no. But I’m done, this time for good.” You reassure with a nod of your head. 
“It’s okay, I understand. Just I-I really like you, and I have for a while. I just wanna be sure what you had with Munson is over before we start something.” He grabs your shoulder and pulls you into his arms. God you could cry from how sweet and gentle he is. 
“It’s more than done, it’s dead and buried.” You murmur into his chest, soaking up his gentle caress.
“You wanna get out of here?” Steve asks, kissing the top of your head as his thumb rubs circles into your back. 
“Yes, please.” You smile up at him before taking his hand in yours and heading to the front door.
Your eyes lock with Eddie’s for a minute too long, and the look on his face is a mixture of triumph and deep jealousy.
A girl sitting to his left whispers something in his ear, causing you to instantly look away. 
He’s not your business anymore. 
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luciddownloading · 4 months
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Moon-Ascendant Aspects and Moon-Midheaven Aspects 🥺
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MOON conjunct, square, opposite, sextile or trine ASCENDANT
🌙 Their feelings and reactions are written all over their face, to a degree that may be embarrassing, at times. Like "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to feel that out loud"
🌙 Either acts exactly like their mother OR their behavior (and life path, as a whole) is a direct contrast to her and her life choices
🌙 Soft features, soft skin, soft lips. Stays moisturized and hydrated (most of them actually do drink tons of water)
🌙 When their guard is down, people ADORE them. They are so warm and inviting and real. Their energy can really be disarming and make people feel safe. They also have the potential to come across as rather cold but this is only when they aren't feeling safe or are being shy
🌙 Maintain the eating habits of a child well into adulthood. They may be addicted to candy or sweets, be ridiculously picky eaters or be able to eat whatever they want and not gain weight
🌙 Those with these aspects are HIGHLY intuitive. They always trust their intuition and its accuracy, even if it makes them look crazy or irrational to others. And they're usually proven right
🌙 They have an aura of femininity, whether male or female. They are very motherly, kind, supportive and vulnerable. But, they also can be very fierce when protecting others or themselves
🌙 Those with the square can be super-defensive and overly self-protective, most likely due to childhood trauma. But, when they work through those insecurities, they radiate a very healing energy
🌙 Their look or aesthetic can definitely go through "phases", like the Moon. It depends a lot on their mood or what they're going through
🌙 Having the opposition can attract a mate (or close friend) who is either emotionally draining and demanding or who is also a caregiver and allows you to be nurtured for once
🌙 Trying to be "perfect" really does not suit them. They're too complicated for that. These people come off best when they let themselves be authentic and natural and a little messy, behavior-wise
🌙 Children and animals gravitate to them and their nurturing ways like magnets. Most of them really, really yearn to be a parent from an early age. Those with the conjunction probably experience the biggest "before and after" effect once they have children
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MOON conjunct, square, opposite, sextile or trine MIDHEAVEN
🍭 Could be most successful in: the culinary industry, restaurant or fast food, nursing, counseling, the arts/entertainment, childcare, social work, real estate or anything involving working from home
🍭 Very susceptible to burnout. People with these aspects need to make sure they are checking in with themselves and not sacrificing self-care for their job. "Hustle culture" becomes their enemy if they get too caught up in it
🍭It is also crucial that their line of work fulfills them emotionally. They CANNOT just work simply for a paycheck. It will make them miserable and not take them very far anyway
🍭 Having the conjunction can make your public image go either way. People will either think you're SO adorable and cuddly and nice or they'll think you're really crazy or wild or unhinged. You also could be seen as both, at different points
🍭A lot of artists or performers have this influence because it makes it easy for them to emotionally move people through their work. They will have people in their feelings!
🍭 Might end up working alongside family members, especially their mother. They could also follow in her footsteps or achieve the goals she always wanted to achieve but never got to
Speaking of the mom, the quality of your relationship will become public knowledge. If it's good, she'll be seen as really lovely and your biggest supporter. If it's bad, well, then a lot of drama could play out publicly
🍭 You could get picked on a lot by detractors but you will also have highly protective fans/followers who are ready to go to war for you. (Famous people with these aspects are often known for having "crazy" fans who others don't want to piss off or get entangled with)
🍭Those with the square or opposition tend to struggle to strike a balance between being accessible to the public and keeping aspects of their personal life to themselves
🍭Their intuition will be their greatest asset in terms of business deals and decisions
🍭 Women or feminine individuals with these aspects typically don't get as much respect until they're in their 30's or 40's. They kind of need to enter that "mother" phase, in the slang use of the word, where they are seen as this strong, mature feminine force that others want to emulate or look to for guidance
🍭 Straight men with this influence often brand themselves as The Wife Guy, becoming adored because how much they seem to love or respect their wife or girlfriend
🍭If and when these individuals have kids, the public can look at them in a newly positive light. Their children can also become equally renowned, in their own right, alongside them
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onlymingyus · 5 months
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Our Dawn is Hotter than Our Day
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pairing; kim mingyu x lee jihoon x f!reader
genre; smut (minors dni)
warnings; poly relationship, mlm, unprotected sex, consensual filming of sexual acts, handjob, fingering, oral (m & f receiving/giving) cum play/eating, marking/biting, impact play/spanking, punishment, dom!jihoon, switch!mingyu, sub!reader/brat!reader, brat taming, manhandling (m&f), pet names/degrading names, degrading/praise, aftercare
w/c; 7.3k and some change (1.2k this teaser--i was feeling generous)
a/n; this one is fully self indulgent and my own birthday present to myself. so...happy birthday me! thank you to @wonwussy for proofreading; thank you to @wongyuseokie for beta-ing part of this; thank you to @bitchlessdino, @horanghater, and @wooahaeproductions for helping me brainstorm pet names.
this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here
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You could hear their voices before you could see them. Not that you were looking. No, that would mean opening your eyes. You didn’t feel that neither Mingyu nor Jihoon deserved your attention at the moment. Had you spent a little too much time in the sun by the pool today? Probably, but you had been left in bed on your own this morning. 
“The water looks nice.” 
Jihoon just nods as a hum of approval leaves his lips. His eyes moved quickly from the water to where you were resting on a chair. Sunglasses covered your eyes, but he could still tell you were actively avoiding looking at them—ever their brat. 
“Seems like you’d be the first of us to enjoy it, Mingyu. Our little princess isn’t wet at all. Have you been laying in the sun all morning?” 
Huffing out a laugh, Mingyu lifts his brow, giving you a good once over. Jihoon was right. There wasn’t a single sign that you had used the pool without them. Were you that mad? He knew you didn’t like to be left in bed alone, but you also knew they always went to the gym first thing in the morning. 
“Is she not? That’s a shame. Did you at least drink some water, honey?” 
This was supposed to be a vacation for the three of you. It was time to take a break from the mundane schedules, yet they were keeping right up with that schedule. When you don’t answer, Mingyu scoffs, sitting down by the side of the pool. The water is cool against his legs as it moves like tiny waves caused by others playing at the other end, just out of hearing distance. 
Jihoon rolls his eyes. He knew what you were doing, and he knew you were mad. He had known it all day. He had watched Mingyu send you selfies, pictures of him, and even videos while the larger man pouted at his phone, not getting a single response. You were giving them both the cold shoulder, and for what? Leaving you sleeping in a comfy bed on vacation instead of waking you up at the crack of dawn to kiss you goodbye?
Shaking his head at Mingyu, Jihoon presses his tongue against his cheek before pulling his arm over his chest to stretch out the muscle. He was less patient with your bratty side. His hand was already itching, and it was too bad you were all in public. Instead of saying anything, Jihoon sighs loudly, sitting beside you on one of the loungers, to open your water bottle as Mingyu just smirks.  
“Baby…my sweet little marshmallow puff? Are you mad at us?” 
Now, Mingyu was pushing your buttons on purpose. Watching your nose wrinkle at the overly cute pet name, Mingyu grinned and winked at Jihoon before watching the man take a sip from your water bottle. 
“You know she is. She’s got ears. She knows how to listen and how to talk when she wants something. What we should do is just leave her pretty little ass down here and go back up to the room…” 
Jihoon’s threat makes you shoot him a dirty look. They wouldn’t dare go back up without you. The smirk on his lips told you everything. He had gotten what he wanted. Your eyes were open now, and you had acknowledged one of them. Making an "aw..." sound, Jihoon nods at your scowl before he tips your water bottle back once more, taking a sip of it. 
“It’s my water…” 
Your voice is quiet and annoyed, causing Jihoon to smile before licking his lips clean of the water. So you could speak. He had been right. 
“It’s warm water.” 
Shrugging, you start to sit up, trying to take it from Jihoon, when cold water splashes you in the direction of Mingyu. Not a lot of water, but enough that you are startled and yell his name. Mingyu’s laugh is playful, his fingers sliding through the water once more to collect more water as you lift your hand to run it over your hair, checking the damage. 
“He said your water was warm. I wanted to cool you down, princess.”
Pouting, you push your glasses, which were speckled with drips of water, to the top of your head. Swiping your bottle from Jihoon, you put the opening to your lips, drinking some of the warm water with a scowl still on your lips as the two men chuckle. 
“Does he need to splash you again, or can you stop being a brat? Did you even check your phone? Mingyu sent you pictures and videos all morning.” 
Mingyu purses his lips, watching you shake your head. You had heard the notifications going off, but in your pursuit to pay your boyfriends back for their behavior, you had chosen to avoid all contact. 
“That makes me sad, baby. Maybe you’re right, Jihoon. We should go upstairs without her. If she wants to act up.” 
The sound of your water bottle closing and hitting the fabric of the chair under you causes Mingyu to press his lips together in order to keep himself from laughing. You were so cute when you were pouty like this. You were so easy to get riled up, even when you were trying so hard not to be the big, bad brat who could withstand anything either of them said. It was clear that you couldn’t handle the idea of them going to bed without you. 
“That’s what I’m saying. Since Y/N doesn’t care enough to even look at what you’ve sent her, she’s got no idea what she missed already. Stupid, pretty little princess just has her mind on being left in bed alone.” 
Your cheeks were burning with each of Jihoon’s degrading words. You knew he didn’t actually think you were stupid. Not in any real sense of how intelligent you were. This was more about how he could get you to react in the bedroom, yet here you were in public, and he wasn’t being subtle. 
“I don’t like when you do that. It would have taken you like two seconds to wake me up and tell me where you were going.” 
Shaking his head, Jihoon starts to speak when Mingyu leans back on his elbows, doing it first. 
“You knew where we would be. Where do we always go that early in the morning?" 
Scoffing, you go to reach for your phone only to watch Jihoon take it from the table before you get the chance. His lips are pursing in interest as he unlocks it and swipes through the pictures and videos that Mingyu sent you from the gym. 
“Answer his question. You didn’t want this before; why would you want it now?” 
Your eyes move back to Mingyu, who lifts his shoulders, waiting for your answer. In the bedroom and in most aspects of your relationship, Mingyu was the softer of the two. He was your big teddy bear who would look at your pouted lips and fluttering lashes and give in. But there were times, like today, when he was more like Jihoon. 
“We are on vacation, Gyu. You two don’t have to go to the gym every single day we are here. Spend a little time with me.” 
READ THE FULL FIC ON PATREON HERE
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xileonaaaa · 4 days
Text
Thinking of Suguru who has a crush on you..
Upperclassmen Drabble
*Geto who isn’t a bully or a narcissist.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁☆
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__________________
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .
┊ ┊ ⋆˚         
✧. ┊         
⋆ ★
!SuguruGeto who first saw you in a cafe Satoru had dragged him and Shoko to.
!SuguruGeto who realized he was staring quite rudely when you happened to look over at him and wave out of politeness.
!SuguruGeto who had to immediately look away out of pure embarrassment, choking on his overly sweet drink in the process
!SuguruGeto who heard you giggle from across the cafe, and immediately felt his ears flush red.
!SuguruGeto who kept his gaze aimed down at the floor until he heard the unmistakable sound of the cafe’s door jingle open, and then close.
!SuguruGeto who silently shunned himself for being such a wuss, knowing that he’d probably never see you again. He didn’t even get the chance to ask for your number.
!SuguruGeto who’s usually a laid back, and chill guy, caught himself almost flipping out of the chair he was reclining in when Yaga introduced you as the new student in his class.
!SuguruGeto who strained his ears to hear your voice over Satoru’s loud blabbering, and hung onto your every word like his life depended on it.
!SuguruGeto who couldn’t help but notice how you sat alone most of the time, and never really hung out with the other people in your class during, or even after school.
!SuguruGeto who was initially curious as to if you remembered him from the cafe, became a bit concerned about your wellbeing when he noticed that people were actively avoiding you.
!SuguruGeto who relaxed a little when he realized that you were content with being in your own little world.
!SuguruGeto who would sneak subtle glances your way at every chance he got. More often than not he’d slowly turn around in his seat to get a good look at what you were up to under the guise of him trying to stretch his back.
!SuguruGeto who loved to sit and just observe your mannerisms. Like how one time he saw you flick your pen a little too hard by accident and watched it fly across the room in embarrassment. He made sure he was the one who got up and got it for you.
!SuguruGeto who eventually worked up the courage to say small hi’s or hello’s to you whenever he happened to see you.
!SuguruGeto who ended up coming back to class much later in the evening one day to retrieve Satoru’s books that he’d left, and happened to see you diligently trying to clean up the classroom all by yourself.
!SuguruGeto who was very careful in announcing in presence, so as to not scare you in any way.
!SuguruGeto who insisted on helping you clean, even when you told him you had everything under control.
!SuguruGeto who is beyond smitten at this point, feels his stomach fill uncomfortably with butterflies when he hears you start to hum a song (he hasn’t the slightest clue of what it was) to fill the silence between you two.
!SuguruGeto who gladly helps you dust off the very tops of the chalkboard that you can’t reach on your own. (He saw you going to get a chair to stand on, so he offered to do it instead.)
!SuguruGeto who finally understands why people most likely avoid you.
!SuguruGeto who notices that he can barely feel any cursed radiating off of you, if there was any to begin with.
!SuguruGeto who comes to the conclusion that you aren’t exactly very strong, but doesn’t feel repulsed in the slightest. Instead, he feels rather confident knowing that he now has a duty to protect you and shield you from anyone or anything that may cause you harm.
!SuguruGeto who takes up most of his missions in the early mornings, so that he can spend his class time secretly admiring you.
!SuguruGeto who is always readily available to help you whenever he sees you struggling with classwork or your technique.
!SuguruGeto who eventually starts sitting next to you in class (he always asks first) under the guise that another one of Satoru’s fan girls took his seat (he actually offered it to her .)
!SuguruGeto who genuinely respects you, and even though you are in no way stronger than him, he appreciates your work ethic and constant strive to be better at anything/ everything you do
!SuguruGeto who chooses to spend his breaks with you. Usually opting to silently read to himself while you studied or practiced beside him. If he noticed you were struggling, he’d kindly place his book down, and lean over your shoulder to observe what it was you were doing.
!SuguruGeto who was acutely aware of the rumors surrounding his and your very strange friendship dynamic. “One of the strongest + the one of the weakest in the entire school?”
!SuguruGeto who always has your back, and is quick to shut anyone who dares speak ill of you up.
!SuguruGeto who stared to notice how said rumors were beginning to affect you.
!SuguruGeto who became aware of your more recent absences, and would find that he was in a pissy mood the days you weren’t at school.
!SuguruGeto who feels hurt, betrayed, and most of all, angry when you try to push him away. Spouting some nonsense about how “..you’ll only drag his reputation down.” He thought it was ridiculous that you’d even think about saying such a thing, and he made sure you knew just how much it bothered him.
!SuguruGeto who was there for you when things just didn’t go your way.
!SuguruGeto who proudly served as your rock, and was always a phone call away.
!SuguruGeto who had the deepest feelings for you, but could only express them in the feather light touches that he gave you from time to time, or the little snacks that he’d buy for you when he knew you’d probably left your lunch at home.
!SuguruGeto who was beyond in love with you, but chooses not to say anything, lest he ruin what chemistry you two already have. He knows about your dreams, and ambitions, and he’d be damned if he were the one to get in the way of your success.
!SuguruGeto who, for now, was content on staying by your side, and being your biggest cheerleader.
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desi2go · 1 day
Text
Importance
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pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader
warnings: angst, fluff
summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...
author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!
Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.
Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.
Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.
Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.
Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.
Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.
You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.
The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.
You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.
But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.
As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.
Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.
Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.
The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.
Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.
He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.
He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.
The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.
Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.
When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.
When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.
You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.
Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.
You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.
On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.
Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.
More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.
He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.
Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.
You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.
You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.
It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.
You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.
He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.
"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.
"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.
"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.
"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.
"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"
"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."
"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"
"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.
"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.
"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.
"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.
These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.
"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.
"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.
"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."
You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.
Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.
It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.
You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.
After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.
Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.
He just followed you, deep in thoughts.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.
"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."
"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.
His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.
"I love you Chan" you whispered.
"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"
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