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#not right now though i'm still procrastinating
espy-heart · 3 months
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Day 4!
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the-casbah-way · 6 months
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i'm not doing anything !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm not fucking doing anything !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i just sit and rot and worry and yearn whilst other people are out there living and feeling and breathing and experiencing and still i just do nothing !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#'you're young there's still time' you do not understand#i don't do things because i'm unwell. chronically. it won't ever go away !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#that doesn't mean it can't get better i'm sure it will one day#but it will never be what i want it to be#i get so overwhelmed by all the things i'm not doing#i need to stop watching videos and films about people living the lives i want#been procrastinating my hrt shit for ages now even though all i have to do is send two emails and ask my friend for one link#i'm putting off the new tattoos and piercings i want because i always do that and then i get sad that i don't have them yet#i'm putting off my assignments for a degree that i actually enjoy and want to do well in and i do not know why#i'm just WAITING. what am i WAITING FOR. the change is INSIDE OF ME. why am i waiting#i guess i am holding onto safety and predictability because it's the only thing i have control over#i bounce between that and the image of a future me that is completely unattainable#and i tell myself there is no possible middle ground so i just give up#i can't be all the things i want to be. i will never been seen the way i want to be#but that doesn't mean i have to stay stuck like this forever wasting my life feeling miserable about everything#but i still choose to keep doing it every day anyway because i don't know how to stop#is it too much to ask to be a beautiful man who is not technically a man but is perceived as one and gets silly about it#is it too much to ask to be nice and well and attractive and successful#i don't want to be normal. i don't want to be cis. but i would like to be myself in a way that feels right#but i am not brave enough to start doing anything about it
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marinebiologi · 5 months
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Me, enjoying university: this is GREAT
Existential dread, impostor syndrome and anxiety:
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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hfddkjfaskldf
#🌙.vent#i'll fix my account by the end of the week but. i feel so empty right now this hurts so much#i haven't been doing well at all lately yeah not getting proper sleep or not eating well n generally just yeah#it affected my academics a bit i submitted some things late or took so long on stuff. for this one course though in particular#unfortunately two of my grpmates seem to be unnecessarily serious in a way that. god i don't know how to explain but yeah#setting internal dls cldn't meet them but we still submitted on time n. i've. been rather anxious lately so it's been hard to yh in the gc#i can't even cry or really feel it anymore at this point it just feels so empty and hollow inside#regrets.. if i. if i didn't. if i didn't oversleep if i didn't procrastinate if i did better then.#me n my other grpmate who also had some problems w doing their part of the assignment r gna do it by pair. n the other two by pair too#it just hurts bcs there's so many ways this cld've been prevented but i guess i do deserve this#one cld always do better in the future but there's no changing anything that's already happened#i'm trying to. be kind to myself or i'll collapse but ....i want to just end this in a way#this is. i used to perform really well in academics it hurts how i'm like this now. even if it's been emotionally hard that's no excuse smh#from previous years i said i'd do much better this year. but i'm falling apart again n#thinking about how this may idk wld this affect on my grade as a whole or maybe even conduct?#if it does then i want to kms haha. i guess i wouldn't literally tho but. maybe this is the push i needed! i'll be back to normal i have to#be. 'perfect' enough in a way. it hurts i won't cry but it suffocates me n. i'm so tired & i always end up disappointing myself in the end.#it hurts thinking of how i'm letting down my past self n. my future self. i need to do much better but i can't erase my mistakes#it hurts so much that i want to give up i don't want this anymore i was starting to feel better but oh well i'm so fucking disappointed#i have to do my best this sy. this is so disappointing i just want to fucking give up#i can't bring myself to distract myself w games for comfort. i can't bring myself to talk w others at all bcs i don't want to bother them#i'm stuck here on my own just drowning in regrets. trying to swim back up is useless if i'm in the middle of the ocean#maybe years from now if. those exist. this wldn't burden me so much but. now in the present it's just too much#....it's the same feeling of emptiness from years back i know this well#it starts out first a bit destructive. feeling sad then better; then smth like this happens n. i'd change. empty for a while#then i'd go on about my life as i 'should'. just surviving day after day#i'm v disappointed now yes but i do know years from now older me wld be disappointed if i neglect myself#it hurts i'll just do what i need to do i don't know anything more right now other than being alone n in pain n it hurts i'm so stupid#rn mostly i just feel empty but i'd say i'm fine. my mind's clear. i'll push myself to be productive bcs i know i'm capable anyways#just need myself and surely i'll be fine. regardless of whatever problem comes my way. surely i can handle this as always
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zombiefiilm · 3 months
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Fell in Love
spencer reid x gn!reader
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summary: you hadn't expected your friend spencer to be home from his most recent case yet, let alone passed out on your couch
warnings: confessions, kissing, fluff, no use of y/n
word count: 1.5k
The moment the key hit the lock of your front door, you practically felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You had been working all day and there was nothing you wanted more than to change into your pyjamas and watch tv for the rest of the night.
Once inside your apartment, you shut the door, instantly dropping your bag to the floor and your keys onto the table. Your shoes were kicked off and your jacket was strewn across a random chair in a matter of seconds and you were ready to run into your bedroom.
But, as you passed by the living room, you caught a glimpse of someone sleeping on your couch, shoes and coat still on.
Really, you should have been a bit more startled by the sight of someone in your home, considering you lived alone, but you were all too familiar with Spencer's habit of dropping by unannounced.
You stopped in your tracks, walking around to the front of the couch and called his name.
"Spencer" you were met with an annoyed groan as he flipped onto his other side.
"Spencer" you called again, louder, shoving his shoulder slightly. No response.
"Dr. Spencer Reid" you practically yelled right into his ear and you watched him jump this time, turning to face you again.
"I gave you a key for emergencies" you scolded, watching as he sat up and groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"I'm sorry" he sounded overly sincere "I didn't want to go home."
Then you realised that this wasn't just his regular habit of dropping in whenever he was bored, he needed comfort. You knew all to well the toll his job took on him, with everything that’s happened to him you were surprised he was able to hold up as well as he did.
“Oh Spencer” you half-whispered, sitting down on the couch right beside him, shoulder practically pressed against his. “Do you wanna talk about it?”.
“Not really, I just need to get my mind off everything” he sat up a bit straighter, facing you now.
You nodded in response.
“Is that new?” his gaze was suddenly fixated on your wrist as he reached down to your new watch.
“It is” you told him, lifting up your arm to show off the item adorned with a silver band.
“Did you get it in a pawn shop?” he seemed to be doing a pretty good job at distracting himself now, taking interest in random things like he always did.
“How did you know?” you laughed slightly, bringing your arm back down to your side.
“It’s Cartier” he explained “I know you wouldn’t be able to afford a new one, they range from four thousand to hundreds of thousands of dollars”.
“Wow” you feigned offence.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I just know you wouldn’t spend that kind of money, even when you treat yourself” he almost panickingly explained himself but you still felt a little proud at him knowing things about you. You hated spending a lot of money on yourself and you wanted to treat yourself, hence the new item in your collection.
“Did you know that Cartier was the first healer to use platinum in jewellery making? And they popularised the wristwatch in 1904, it’s really quite interesting”
“I didn’t, Reid” you joked. “Do you want some food? I got groceries yesterday so I could make you anything you want”.
“I’m okay” he sighed slightly “I’m just tired”
“You can sleep in my bed, no reason you should be hurting your back on the couch"
"No its okay, I don't want to put you out. I'm fine out here, really."
"I'm not going planning on going to bed for a while, at least go in there and get some rest, okay?"
He simply nodded his head and got up to go to your bedroom, calling out a goodnight as he approached the door.
You spent a few hours lounging about, mindlessly watching Friends reruns to procrastinate anything that actually needed to be done. Eventually though, the tiredness caught up to you and you decided to camp out on the couch for the night.
You cracked open your bedroom door and the small amount of light that flooded in from the hall presented Spencer completely out of it in your bed, his white shirt half unbuttoned and his trousers twisted around him while the rest of his clothes were piled on the floor beside him.
You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a spare pillow and blanket from your wardrobe, preparing to set yourself up on the couch for the night.
As you went to leave the room once again, you heard him sleepily call your name.
"Yeah?" you turned around to him again, seeing him adjust himself slightly.
“Do you want the your bed back?” He began to sit up, the rustling sound of the duvet filling the air.
“You can stay there, don’t worry about it” there was a silence then, you could tell he was about to say something, but he was struggling to get it to slip past his lips.
"Could you stay with me, please" he looked away bashfully "just for a bit”. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was giving you a puppy-dog look, eyes wide and lip practically quivering.
“Of course” you dumped everything that was in your hands onto the end of the bed and crawled up beside Spencer.
Without another word, you pressed yourself up right against him, grabbing his hand with yours and smoothing your thumb over the back of his hand. Just the few moments of silence with you sitting there had done Spencer some good, he had already felt himself calming down, and some of his recent anxieties melting away.
The quiet didn’t last long though before Spencer was saying your name again. “Can I tell you something?”
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes finally adjusting to the dark so you could see all of his emotions bleeding through his expressions. You nodded your head, humming slightly to urge him on.
“I really appreciate you, a lot” he hesitated slightly, searching for the words to use next.
“I appreciate you too Spence” you requited.
“No, I’m thankful for everything you do. You have always been there when I need you, you always know exactly what to say to me, you care about me. And I truly hope you can say the same about me”
“Of course I can”
“I need you in my life more than you could ever know” he continued “you’re the most important person to me in the whole world, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You looked at him, almost flabbergasted, not knowing what to say that would truly encapsulate how much you cared about him, how happy you were that he appreciated you.
“I like you” he paused “I love you, so much” his words were powerful, they rung in the air as they travelled towards your ears.
“Love?” you repeated, questioning his use of the word. You were no stranger to platonic love but his previous confessions had you questioning the intention of his last sentence.
“I love you, I want to be able to call you mine. I want to come home to you every day, to spend every minute I can with you, to have a future where you’re the centre of all my plans.”
You were practically stumped, the emotions you were feeling rendering your mouth useless.
“If you don’t feel the same way-“ he suddenly became incredibly panicked, spitting out as many words as he could to explain himself before you could cut him off.
“Spencer” you took a deep breathe “I love you too” it was a much shorter confession than his, but you didn’t need to say anything more to him, the confirmation was all he needed.
In the time it took you to blink, your faces were centimetres apart. And then his lips were on yours.
Your body felt like it lit up on that moment, the feeling of his lips on yours waking the butterflies in your stomach. You wasted no time tangling your fingers into his hair and lightly tugging at the roots as his hands slid around your waist, softly massaging your flesh.
It was gentle, his tongue softly slipping into your mouth as you let him do what he wanted, let him take the control.
The kiss was short though, as sleep had began to take over both of you. You mutually pulled away, silently agreeing to lie down, cuddling into one another.
With one more peck on the lips, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.
There was plenty of time to talk it out, to figure out everything between each other, but for now all you needed was the feeling of one another pressed together and the feeling of mutual admiration.
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shrikeseams · 2 years
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caraphernellie · 3 months
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cowboy like me // e.w. [chapter one]
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summary: a modern day princess living under outdated royal protocol in which your own existence is forbidden. in a typical state visit to strengthen your country's relations with the united states, you find it harder than ever to keep your sexuality secret when you meet the president's daughter, ellie williams, and sparks fly.
wc: 2.1k masterlist
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content warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut. homophobia, governments, monarchy, politics. reader is specified as lesbian with she/her pronouns used for plot purposes i sorry, smoking, making out, femme! reader. u-haul lesbians fr. reader plays piano. ellie is a disaster lesbian lmaooooo. she's also super privileged and a bit of an ass. mostly based off of the british royal family in terms of royal protocol and all that shit, don’t kill me if things are inaccurate i’m not american, this chapter is more an intro to ellie's character and establishing tension
authors note: i'm so excited about this fic... but i might hate it in the morning so we'll see!! i've never read/watched red white and royal blue but it did inspire this fic (do not expect it to be anything like rwrb as i said i don't know what happens in it lmao). ellie's the president's daughter obvs. if your country doesn't have a monarchy just pretend there is one. if you're from the us then L 💀 play pretend
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converse sneakers pelting across marble tiled floors with an onslaught of urgency, ellie makes her way through the halls. she stops at a mirror for a second, a muse in her mind– eh, good enough.
smoothing down flyaway hairs, ellie realises spending free time in the courtyard outside may not have been the best idea on a cool spring day such as this. the winter is still lingering, breezes battering the flag of red, white, and blue on the roof of the building as warm temperatures are still fresh. still- she needs as much a distraction as anyone else. as if procrastinating on something like homework, assignments, except the only thing ellie has done is make herself late to the introductory banquet of the royal family. all she knows is the president won’t be happy with her. 
bringing her wrist to her nose, ellie sniffs, though it’s less sniffing and more inhaling, trying to figure out if she has masked the smell of the cigarette she wasted or if she needs more cologne.
ellie’s caught by a housekeeper with her face stuck awkwardly into her suit jacket, furrowed brows as she inspects her own scent. pausing, a strained smile takes its place on chapped lips.
“he–”
“goodness, miss williams, you’re terribly late,” the housekeeper says, quickly approaching. “staff have been searching everywhere for you.”
“right,” ellie mumbles, straightening up her posture. “sorry. i’ll be on my way to the state dining room right now.”
approaching said room, ellie can already hear the fuss– loud and polite conversations, the snapping of photos, subtle classical playing over the speakers. christ, ellie thinks, how do i render myself invisible?
ellie’s worries ease the minute she steps inside, however, as the commotion isn’t around her own family today. it’s the royal family. and that realisation almost sparks up yet another mini freakout in ellie’s mind. she’s been looking forward to this for weeks, of course she has, a hot princess living in her home for an entire month..? that’s something she could get used to. but it’s real now, and just staring at you is sending a chill down ellie’s spine.
flash photography and yelling of the invited press is suffocating ellie as she ventures further into the room. she hasn’t even been noticed yet, thank god, so she decides to humbly busy herself at the table of finger food. until–
“ellie williams?”
a delicate voice smooth and sweet, ellie’s ears prick up to the sound of an accent unique and she knows exactly who this has to be.
fuck.
ellie makes quick effort to swallow the stupid cocktail frank she was eating and turns around, wiping her clammy hands on the ass of her slacks.
a princess standing right in front of her, of course these things only happen to ellie in her most cringeworthy moments. demolishing a table of finger food… what can she say? she’s an anxious snacker.
“ah-” ellie’s eyes meet your own and she gulps, extending a hand. “a pleasure to meet you, princess…”
get your head in the game, ellie. she clears her throat, putting on her famous, confident smile. and as you place your hand in hers, she acts purely without thinking, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. nobody was watching, but ellie drops your hand in an instant- is flirting with a princess the right move? even if it’s humorous?
your brain just about short-circuits, and ellie’s reeling. that was stupid, so stupid. acting on total whim.
the collar of ellie’s shirt feels too tight as she observes the split-second utter shock in your eyes, though she relaxes as you reward her a smile. and it isn’t that typical, media-trained smile, either.
“charming,” you murmur in response, eyes fixed on ellie’s piercing greens. however delighted you might be to be treated in this way by a girl like ellie, the way in which you hide it is effortless.
and charming, of course, is exactly what ellie is. messy, shirt creased and hair tousled and she honestly reeks of expensive cologne and faint smoke – but she has that handsome smile and that confident demeanour that the girls of washington d.c. fall for so easily.
“i hope so,” ellie says with an awkward chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “that’s the aim of the game.”
you laugh similarly, politely, and make it as clear as possible to glance ellie up and down. “i’ll play.”
and the look on ellie’s face is plain silly at the least, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. “wh- uh..”
“say, it’s a little stuffy in here,” you say, gently fanning yourself, “you wouldn’t happen to know of any quiet spaces we could disappear to?”
ellie’s lips form a small o-shape as she processes the question. you want to be alone with her. a smirk crosses ellie’s face and she nods, “absolutely, your highness. my office.”
“would you be so kind as to show me to it?”
“of course, follow me,” ellie nods her head to the direction of the door. “we’ll have to sneak around.”
your heels click against the floor while ellie leads you down the hall, the sound a constant reminder to her that you’re actually walking alongside her. approaching a large door adorned by a gold plate with ellie’s name carved into it, she pulls a key from her pocket. and yet her eyes are on you the whole time.
the door clicks open and ellie holds it for you, only for her face to turn red when met with the sight of her office.
“excuse the mess,” she mutters, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. “i was uh, in here late last night. i had a speech to work on.”
“it’s alright,” you say, “some organised mess makes it homely.”
“right,” ellie nods. she’s beyond sensical thought now, just going along with anything you say. try harder. this is ellie’s issue, she eggs herself on too much, gets too overzealous, does things for the sake of doing them because her life has quite literally no direction if she doesn’t set herself these impossible dares. “just take a seat anywhere if you like. the couch is pretty comfy.”
ellie makes a pointless attempt to tidy some papers on her desk. she doesn’t necessarily do a lot of work here, though she enjoys being an activist, often writing speeches and finding causes to help others. though it did only begin in the first place as a way to increase the votes for her father’s party during the election- that doesn’t mean it isn’t genuine!
it’s just that ellie’s lazy ass needs pressure to do these things.
she gnaws her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, watching as you sit on the two-seater, eyeing the guitars along the wall of the office. “you play?”
“hm? no,” you say, watching ellie take a warm toned acoustic and sit beside you. “i’m a pianist, though.”
“pianist?” ellie chuckles, thumb stroking over each string of the guitar. “you’ll have to play for me sometime.”
you nod, watching intently as ellie begins playing a quiet tune. she can’t help but notice your rigid, straight posture. she can’t tell if you just have great posture, or if you’re uncomfortable.
but, noticing your eyes lingering over her nimble fingers as they pick at the guitar, ellie’s lips curl upwards just slightly.
she knows well when she’s got a girl worked up. she’d never expected the princess to be this easy.
“music is just beautiful,” you say with a small nod, again, that genuine smile small as ever on your lips insecurely. “nothing like it.”
“you think so?” ellie muses, and when you manage to finally stray your eyes from her hands, you meet ellie’s own soft gaze. “because i think… even the most beautiful ballad couldn’t compare to the solid view i got right now.”
you scoff, turning quiet as heat fills your cheeks. your brows furrow as you tilt your head a nod to the side, studying ellie’s features, searching for any hint of dishonesty. and it’s like she can tell that, with your gaze silently begging her to not be messing with you- she turns her expression more serious.
“you’re something else, williams,” you retort, though adjusting yourself a little closer. knees touch, and you don’t flinch away.
“yeah?” ellie grins. the room goes silent, ellie no longer continuing to play her tune. the guitar on her lap, she rests her chin over it. “something good, or something bad?”
there’s a more subtle smirk on her face now. she begins to move, setting the guitar down and leaning it against the couch as she shifts even closer.
“mmm…” you think for a moment, a smaller expression of interest visible across your features. “something that my head tells me is not a good idea, but my heart says is just fine.”
how the fuck did i get here, ellie wonders? she’s running on pure luck at this point. stumbled in late and somehow she’s got a princess way in over her head.
and ellie doesn’t leave you waiting a moment longer– the second you lean closer she’s grabbing your head and meeting your lips in a fervent kiss, one you gasp into and immediately lean into, hands falling into place with one on her chest and the other on the back of her neck.
pulling away breathlessly, ellie chuckles a bit and shrugs her shoulders, “eh- oops?” she looks almost embarrassed by her own reckless act. “sorry.”
there’s too much going on for you– just too much in your head. your first kiss, the first other lesbian you’ve ever met. her words get you weak in the knees, yet she gets just as flustered by her own actions which seem to only ever work on impulse. so you start laughing, and you can’t stop.
ellie herself laughs a little, watching you giggle at her pink face as you lean into the back of the couch and hold up a cushion to hide your face. it’s all snorting and snickering and ellie’s face is getting redder.
she snatches the cushion out of your hands and raises a brow at you, “if you keep being that cute i’m gonna–”
“sorry,” you laugh, “sorry-”
ellie can’t help but notice how much it seems like you really needed this laughing fit, the way it’s instantly relaxed you…
“that’s it,” she mutters with a chuckle, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. “c’mere.”
the yelp of surprise that ellie’s movement elicits has her beaming, holding you on her lap. she rests a hand on the back of your head, the other cupping your ass. it’s indecent, indelicate to touch a princess like that, and yet you’re not stopping her. ellie’s already found herself addicted.
because this time ellie lets herself just go, pressing her lips to yours. she swipes her tongue over your bottom lip, grunting as you gasp. with your lips parted she slips her tongue into the kiss. she isn’t just kissing you, she’s devouring. she’s making sure not to leave an inch of your mouth unexplored, nor will she allow it for your body, getting rather handsy. every pretty little sound you breathe motivates her to continue, pulling you back in every time you pull back for air.
a hand slides under your dress, gripping your thigh, the other squeezes your breast before gliding to the curve of your ass, and she slumps into the couch. her boxers are growing uncomfortably wet and she needs to do something about it, hold you down on her desk and–
a key turns in the door and her eyes snap open, as do yours. not a single word is said but the panicked look you share tells all as you move back onto the couch beside ellie, smoothing down your dress. she grabs her forgotten guitar and moves it onto her lap.
and in mere seconds, the door opens to reveal a housekeeper who had used the master key to get in. and she’s clueless, though a little discomforted by the taut smiles you and ellie offer.
“sorry to interrupt you, ladies,” she offers awkwardly. “nobody has seen either of you in a long time, it was requested by president williams that we search the place.”
“ah,” ellie muses, clearing her throat before her voice can come out as weak as it feels. “i understand. we’re alright, yes, sorry, um… we needed a quiet place.”
sitting there with that prim and proper posture once again, your leg crossed over the other, you stare at ellie, resisting the urge to reach over right now and fix her hair after having ran your hands through it with desperation.
this is going to be an interesting state visit.
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tag list (msg me or find my tag list in my pinned post if u want to be tagged!!): @dinasvampgf
🙈🙈 omg this fic..
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Making some honey orange chicken onigiri for work lunch, but some how still haven’t made dinner for tonight. Procrastination works in weird ways.
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astrellium · 2 years
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Need a kick in the ass to either complete the dress I already have mostly finished (even though I’ll have to redo a bunch of work uggh) or to work on sketches for the other clothes I’m going to make for the ren faire
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wordstome · 4 months
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kingdom come - iii
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king König x princess & assassin reader
2nd person, no y/n, she/her pronouns, afab reader, romance, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, kind of age gap because König has been king for a good chunk of time but it's not really much of a factor, fantasy/medieval setting
7.7k words
tw: explicit smut, animal death, mentions of child death, violence, mild body horror, ableist language (use of the word "cripple")
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"I'm not going to sleep with you." -quote from woman who is about to sleep with him
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There’s a portrait of a woman in your room.
Of course, König offered to have it removed or replaced, but you’ve procrastinated the decision because you never thought you would be here long enough for it to matter. Yet here you are, staring up at this lovely young woman on the wall.
You tilt your head, studying her. Her expression is neutral, almost pensive, but the artist captured a playful sparkle in her eyes, as if she’s keeping some sweet secret.
It’s the first queen, of course. König’s first wife. The one who died many years ago. It’s strange that after so long, he hasn’t gotten rid of the portrait.
What happened to you? you wonder. If someone had asked what you thought when you first arrived here, you would have said, without hesitation, that König had her killed. All your life, you had been taught that he and his father were evil, unfeeling tyrants. Now, this conviction has wavered.
You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s ridiculous, to be thinking better of his character. You only ever wanted to know him better to kill him. But the more you understand about what makes him tick, the less you think that he would do such a thing. Perhaps it’s true, then, that she died in childbirth.
Your eyes travel all over the portrait, poring over every detail of her features. Did you know him? Did you understand him? Did you love him?
Did he love you?
What did that feel like?
“Good. You haven’t left yet.” Calliope comes into the room, bustling with energy even before the sun comes up. You don’t know how she does it.
“We’re about to.”
“That’s why I’m here.” You notice she’s wearing gloves, but more importantly, she’s holding a necklace: a silvery chain with a small, intricate pendant. Vine-shaped pieces of metal hold a white, almost clear jewel in place, its various facets reflecting the candlelight in vivid colors.
“Jewelry? I’m going to be living in the woods for the next few weeks,” you tease as she lowers the necklace over your head. It does look quite durable, but you’re not exactly dressing for a costume ball here.
“Consider it a reminder that I await your safe return,” Calliope responds, securing the necklace behind your neck. “Look at it and remember me. You’re not to do anything reckless out there, am I understood?”
“Understood.” You give her a soft smile as she arranges the necklace on your collarbones. You’re grateful for the gift: though she can’t come with you, a small piece of her will always remain with you.
“Good. And don’t let that handsome husband of yours distract you and get yourself killed.”
“Calliope! What happened to ‘something’s not right with him’?”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t handsome!”
You snort and roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face.
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You used to think that living in König’s home already exposed you to an exhausting amount of the man. As it turns out, going on a journey with him is even worse.
There’s nobody else to talk to, nowhere to run or put distance between you two when he frustrates you. It’s not so bad for the first few days: the towns surrounding the capital are still populated enough to provide some respite from him. But once the two of you have made your way outside the bounds of civilization, it doesn’t take long for things to become stilted and awkward.
“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the last town.”
“I don’t feel talkative.”
“Really? I’m out of my mind with boredom right now. Come, you’re not in the mood to get to know each other a little?”
You give him a look. “What else is there to know? I’ve lived with you for several months.”
“But we don’t talk.” König nudges his horse to walk closer to yours. König is such a large man, his horse is massive too: comically so, next to your normal one. You let out a sigh.
“There’s nothing to know about me.”
“I doubt that. All I know about you is you’re a princess trained to be an assassin. ‘Your whole life’, according to yourself,” he says with a touch of mocking.
You purse your lips, determined not to let him get under your skin. “There’s nothing else to know.”
“Truly? Nothing about what you like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like…your favorite food. Or hobby.”
“Hobby? …I suppose I spend a lot of time at target practice.”
“That’s not a hobby.”
“It’s relaxing to hone my skills.”
He gives you an amused look. “You remind me of myself as a young man.”
Something about that irks you. “We’re nothing alike.”
“I used to have the same mindset as you, at least. I held one objective in my mind and didn’t seek purpose outside of it.”
“I…”
As much as you loathe to admit it, he’s right. You have been focused on one objective your whole life. If you probe deeper, you can’t remember having any friends outside of Calliope, nor any interests outside of the curriculum your father set for you. “It wasn’t as bleak as you seem to think it was.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not like I never had fun. I had my own way of finding it.”
“Such as?”
“Well, when my training progress stalled, I’d be sent to bed without dinner. Naturally. I eventually learned how to climb out of my window at night and go foraging in the woods for something to eat.” A smile curls your lips as you reminisce. “Eventually I even worked my way up to hunting—little things, like squirrels. I spent many a cozy little evening cooking for myself over a fire.”
You turn to find an abject look of horror on König face. “What? What’s wrong? Is there danger?” You turn around to scan your surroundings, but nothing immediately jumps out at you.
“No. No danger. I just…he sent you to bed with an empty stomach so many times you learned how to crawl out of your room and hunt squirrels to eat?”
You blink at him. “You’ve never had squirrel before?”
He looks scandalized. “Of course I have! That is not the issue with what you just said.”
You shrug. “It was important discipline. Besides, it gave me hunting experience at a young age. Squirrels are hard to skin, but I could do it in twelve seconds flat if you gave me one now.”
König looks like he wants to say more, but instead he looks up at the sky. “We should make camp soon.”
“Is it that time already?”
“It needs to be set up before it gets dark. We should also start hunting while it’s light out—not all of us can catch things in the dark, squirrel-girl.”
“Hey!”
Later, you’re both chewing on a rabbit when he speaks.
“You know, when you said you wanted to travel with me, I was quite concerned.”
“Yes, I know. You didn’t think I was capable of handling myself.”
“Not just that. I was worried you would be…unaccustomed to living rough.”
“You thought I would be a spoiled princess.”
“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yes.”
You snort. “Well, now you know. I can handle myself in the outdoors.” You toss the rabbit bones you’ve just picked clean into a small hole dug into the dirt. When you leave, you’ll cover it with dirt to prevent predators from smelling the remains and following you on your journey.
“You want the other leg?” you ask. König seems startled, for some reason.
“You caught this one.”
“Yes, but you’re bigger than me. You need the food.” You reach up to pluck a leaf from a nearby tree and wipe your hands. Rabbits sure are greasy…
There’s a strange look in König’s eye as he regards you. You raise an eyebrow at him in response. “What?”
“…nothing.” He reaches for the rabbit while you shrug and walk off to find some water. The back of your neck prickles as you go, as if his stare is physically touching you.
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You can’t stand to be near him nowadays, and you don’t know why.
Of course, you have no choice but to. There’s a tension that feels weighty, forbidden. You know he can tell, because he’s been more cautious around you, giving you as much space as he can afford to. Somehow, that irritates you even more.
Tonight, the two of you are camping in a dense, thick part of the forest not far from a road. It’s quiet, secluded: even the usual soundscape of ambient animal noises is silent.
The fire crackles and pops as you stare into the flames, as if you’ll find any answers in it. Instead, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as König returns from washing himself in a nearby stream, approaching you from behind.
“This won’t work if you’re constantly upset with me for some unknown reason.”
You don’t turn to look at him, though some invisible force compels you. “Why? Because it makes you uncomfortable?”
“I’m worried about your comfort too, you know. If you just told me what I’ve done wrong, then we can resolve it before it breeds resentment.”
“I’m just stressed.” Everything he does or says seems to irritate you nowadays, but you know in your heart of hearts that it’s not his fault. It’s your own problem—you assume camping outdoors for so long has taken its toll on your psyche.
He frowns at you, but doesn’t pry any further. You can’t help but watch as he walks around to the other side of the fire, drying his hair with his shirt. God, he is a work of art: all chiseled muscles and glowing skin. Your eyes travel down his torso, drawn by the line of his abs, down to the happy trail leading to the slightly askew waist of his trousers.
“You’re drooling, princess.”
Your eyes snap back up to his face. His eyes are dancing with mirth as he realizes he’s just caught you ogling him. You make a face at him, but it only makes him laugh. “Was not.”
“Incorrect answer. You should have attempted to strike at my ego. Now I know you were looking.”
“I think I’m just being driven mad by spending so much time alone with you in the woods.”
“I know several ways to drive you mad, sweetling.”
You slouch against a tree, your face hot—and not from the fire. In a blink, he’s standing before you, with a gleeful expression on his face like he’s just discovered a cure for dropsy.
“I know what’s making you sour as vinegar. You need to be fucked.”
You bury your face in your hands, unable to look at him. “I thought we had moved past this,” you groan, trying to ignore your rapidly quickening heartbeat.
“What, your ever-growing carnal lust for me?”
“You being a pervert.”
“I’ve never made a secret of it. You, however…” You suck in a startled breath as he leans down, trapping you against the tree just like he had the day you sparred with him. “You’ve been denying yourself.”
Your breath is ragged as he looks you in the eye, the tension between the two of you as taut as a bowstring. A familiar sense of panic rises in you, the same way you feel every time he’s close to you like this. Before, you thought it was because it felt dangerous to be so close to your enemy. Now, you’re second-guessing yourself.
“So what if I have?” you mumble.
“There’s an easy way to fix that.”
“…The last time you had me in this position, you were threatening me.”
He tilts his head slightly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “You don’t feel threatened now?”
You don’t respond immediately, and heavens forbid, he takes it as hesitancy, his demeanor instantly transforming. “One word. One word, and we will never speak of this again. But if you tell me you want this, I will fuck you senseless.”
“Yes,” you whisper, and his lips on are on yours.
It’s a strange sensation, considering half of your mouth is pressed against the cold, smooth surface of his mask. You don’t even ask him about removing it—it’s become a part of him in your mind. And maybe part of you even finds the mystery of it alluring.
You all but melt into the kiss, against him. It’s different, everything is different than that first awkward kiss from when you were younger. It makes you ache, makes you long for him in a way you’ve never wanted someone before.
You have to separate to breathe, but your reluctance to break apart from him is clear by the way you chase his face with yours. He laughs at you, but it’s not condescending at all. It settles in your chest, warm like honey.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you murmur.
“Luckily for you, you’re in good hands.” It’s the cockiness in his voice that does you in, what makes you let go and give yourself over to him.
You feel flustered, awkward, and like the least desirable creature on earth, but he looks at you like he wants to devour you. Like there’s nothing else he wants more than to have you right now.
“You can trust me,” he says softly. You try to respond, but suddenly find you’ve gone mute. All you can manage is a small nod.
To your surprise, he lowers his mouth to your neck. You gasp, a full-body shiver running through you as he kisses you there, sucking and nipping at you as he goes. “W-wait, I’m—”
“Sensitive? I can tell.” You squeak as he continues to lavish you with attention, his fingers trailing down the front of your torso to undo your pants. His movements are deliberate but slow, giving you plenty of opportunity to stop him. But of course, you don’t.
You let out a quick little breath as he finds his way to your pussy, his deep chuckle reverberating against your throat. “You’re so wet…did I do that to you, liebling?”
You’re about to respond, but instead let out a sharp gasp as he dips a finger into your pussy. “How are you ever going to take me into this tight little hole of yours…” he taunts.
Oh, God, you hadn’t even thought about that. Your mind flashes back to your wedding night, and the first time you tried to kill him. You had mostly been shocked by his audacity, but only now do you recall how big he had felt between your thighs.
He’s gentle with you at first, patiently stretching you open as you whine and beg in his arms. You just about sob when he finally pays your clit attention, circling it with his thumb, and in what seems like no time at all, you’re cumming, hard.
“That didn’t take long at all,” he says with that awful smirk of his.
“Th-that’s not fair,” you stammer. “You know…”
“I’m only teasing you.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead as you come down, shivering with pleasure.
He makes you cum twice with just his hand. Your legs are trembling by the time the two of you properly get undressed. You’re soft and pliable, helpless putty in his hands as he lines the tip of his cock at your entrance.
“Ready, liebe?” he asks.
“That is not going to fit,” you say, eyes wide and fearful. There’s absolutely no way, you think, staring down the absurdly thick and long monster between his legs.
“Trust me, remember? We’ll take it slow,” he reassures you. You bite your lip and nod, giving him the go-ahead to sink into you.
Instantly, you realize that no matter how well König could have prepared you, there was no chance that it would have been enough to ready you for the stretch of him. You feel like you can hardly breathe as he splits you in half with his cock, your mouth dropping open in a wordless cry.
“Fuck, you are tight,” he groans, but he keeps his promise to go slow, feeding himself inch by inch inside you until he’s sitting snug up against your cervix.
The two of you stay there, suspended in a moment in time, connected to each other in the most intimate way two people can be. It makes your head spin, makes you dizzy with the sensation of his body pressed against yours.
You nod, and he starts to move.
If you had thought before that his fingers felt good inside you, then his cock is something else. The delicious stretch of him is almost electrifying, and you wonder how you went all your life without it.
All you can do is let him take control—you don’t have the presence mind to do anything but hold onto him, gasping and moaning. He’s all around you, above you, inside you, and it feels like nothing else in the world matters, or that there is a world other than König, König, König.
Your third orgasm surprises you, waves of pleasure flowing through you as you cry out, your pussy sucking him in as if it wants him to stay inside forever. That’s what seemingly pushes him over the edge too, a string of expletives bursting from him as he floods you with his cum.
You’re limp and weak, all but purring as he shifts to lay next to you and pulls you into his chest.
“You are sweet when underneath me like this,” he purrs.
You swat him in the chest, but it must feel no heavier than being hit by a branch, because he just laughs.
“There’s no reason to be shy now. I’ve seen everything at this point.” You pout at him—something that only seems to bring him delight, because he pulls you in for a kiss.
“This isn’t how I wanted to take you the first time,” he says, a hint of shame in his tone.
Your heart twinges with affection. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, either, but the idea of him wanting you so badly he thought about it beforehand, fantasized about it even…“I’ve slept in trees before, this is nothing,” you reassure him.
He shoots you a concerned look. “You continue to share alarming events from your childhood.”
You sleep together that night, curled up against him with your legs tangled with his. He falls asleep first, the slight rumble of his chest as he sleeps against your cheek. You lay awake a little while longer, watching him, breathing him in. Now, you have no choice but to be confronted with the truth that you’ve been refusing to acknowledge this whole time.
You don’t hate him anymore. You don’t even dislike him now. And you certainly don’t want to kill him.
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On one hand, things are easier. Crossing the line feels more like having torn down a wall, with no more need for pretense. On the other, König is somehow even more insufferable than before. Or perhaps insatiable is a better word for it. You go from having daily sexual tension with him to daily sex, period.
It’s like the floodgates have opened. He’s always loved to tease you, but it gets a hundred times worse now that he knows just how to make your cheeks feel warm.
“I was thinking…” he muses one night as you cuddle by the fire. “You may have to start riding on my horse.”
“Don’t I already do that?” you ask, sleepily playing with his hair.
He snorts. “Your susceptibility to my corrupting influence is truly something to marvel at.”
“You’ve been enacting psychological warfare on me for months.”
“Anyhow, as I was saying.”
“Your horse is quite large, but I don’t think it could handle me astride it as well.”
“Well. Certainly something else that’s large could handle that…”
You sigh. “Get to the point.”
“It’s becoming quite distracting, watching you moving up and down with the horse’s stride.”
“I cannot believe you. Innuendos twice in a row?”
“This is a legitimate grievance!”
“Riding on your horse would not fix the problem. Unless you plan for me to sit behind you in the saddle, which I refuse to do.”
“You’re no fun.”
You lean forward to kiss the corner of his mouth instead of responding.
Your newfound…activity, however pleasingly distracting, can’t eclipse what comes next.
The mood is somber as you arrive in the village: it’s a quiet, sleepy place, just a scattering of simple houses dotting rolling hills and one singular street lined with buildings in the center of it all.
In sharp contrast to his playful, almost jubilant mood on the road with you, König instantly snaps into his authoritative persona. It especially suits him when he puts on the hood: it makes him seem that much more intimidating and threatening. Almost inhuman.
The first order of business is to hold counsel with what passes for the leader in this tiny village: a local merchant patriarch. He’s a sturdy man in his older years, face lined with both wrinkles and scars. He must have been quite the warrior when he was young: you can tell by the way he carries himself.
He gives both of you the lay of the land, and it’s a grim predicament indeed. Herding the livestock is a job most often given to the children, as it’s a relatively safe job with less skill required than the tasks the adults take care of. That’s changed, of course, with the arrival of the beast a few weeks ago. He confirms the most gruesome details that have been brought before König by previous messengers, and it turns your stomach just to imagine it. Those poor children…
The two of you set off early the next morning, with directions from an experienced hunter who had been keeping track of the beast and reporting its movements. At first, it feels normal: just another walk in the woods with König. The solemn silence between the two of you serves as a stark reminder that this isn’t like normal—followed promptly by increasing signs of a presence in the woods. Snapped branches, giant pawprints, and worse, streaks of blood.
Then you break though into a clearing, and your blood runs cold.
The beast before you could only be described as a wolf for lack of a better descriptor. It’s monstrously large, being König’s height and half again, with all of its proportions just slightly wrong: its legs scrawny and just slightly too long for its body, the snout lean and far too sharp to fit the rest of its head. Dried old blood crusted into the fur of its muzzle and chest belies the savagery of the creature, even streaking onto the fur along its neck. And the most obvious tell-tale sign of an unnatural creature is that fur: a dark, rusty blue that shifts with impossible pinpricks of light, like the night sky is ensnared in this feral animal’s coat.
You heard its growl before you saw it. But now when it lays eyes on you and König, it opens its snout and…speaks.
“What do we have here?” The voice comes out as a broken, reedy croak, as if stretching vocal cords that haven’t been used in a long time.
Something about it raises your hackles, like your body’s responding to an ancient, ingrained fear. Fae.
“Don’t listen to anything it says.” König’s voice is suddenly soft, dangerous. “None of it is trustworthy.” Slowly, deliberately, his hand moves to his back and draws his sword.
“Ah, the boy king,” hisses the beast. “You simply couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“You’re eating my subjects,” König responds. Your eyes flit to where his hand tightens its grip on his sword. “This is not personal.”
“But it always is, is it not?” The beast and König circle each other, like two combatants in an arena. “You are as ever driven by your past mistakes.”
“König, what is it talking about?” You feel like you’re witnessing a conversation you shouldn’t be, but you feel helpless to do anything about it. If you tried to make a move towards the beast now, it would have its jaws snapped around you in an instant.
“It’s lying, liebling. It’s what they do. It’s trying to throw you for a loop so it can catch you off guard.”
“Liebling now, is it?” The beast lets out an awful, barking laugh. “My, the two of you have come far. But not far enough, it seems.”
König gives you a quick, sidelong glance, then tilts his head back towards the beast. The message is clear. We need to distract it. I’ll keep it talking.
“From her response, it seems you’ve been keeping secrets from your lovely little bride.” The beast shakes itself, its fur puffing up to look larger and more intimidating.
“There’s nothing to keep. None of that is important.”
“I would beg to differ. And if your liebling knew what it was, she would disagree as well.”
“You know nothing about us,” König growls. Yes, you’re in a life-or-death situation right now, but the viciousness in his tone sends an excited shiver up your spine. You’re opposite König now, almost completely hidden behind the beast’s monstrous form.
“You know nothing about each other!” Before either of you can react, the beast whips around. Its glowing-white eyes are fixed on you. “Not that it matters any longer.”
You barely have time to scream before the beast is upon you.
“No!” König’s voice rings in your ears. You can feel the creature’s hot breath, its vile drool spilling onto your clothes, its teeth closing around your neck—
Time slows to a crawl, the events unfolding one after the other in sequence. The first thing you’re aware of is the beast’s roar of pain, booming deafeningly all around you. I’m inside its mouth, you think numbly. The second thing you notice is your necklace: it’s glowing red, as if the metal has become molten hot. But you don’t feel any burning sensation, just a faint tingle.
The third thing you see is König shoving himself between the two halves of the beast’s snout, physically holding it open with his body.
It’s truly an impressive sight, like watching Atlas hold up the sky. For a brief moment, all you can do is stare up at him in awe.
“What are you doing?! Get out!” he yells, and you snap back to your senses.
You roll aside out of the beast’s range, scrambling to get back on your feet. König dodges out of the way just as the jaws snap shut.
“Is that..?” the thing wheezes. You rush to help König up as it glares balefully at you. Its beady eyes focus on the pendant around your neck, narrowing in disgust.
“Calliope,” it spits. “I should have known. This bears marks of your meddling all over.”
Your blood runs cold. “What did you just say?” What does your lady in waiting have to do with this?
“You—” The beast doesn’t get a chance to finish its sentence, because König takes advantage of its consternation to stick his sword into its neck. The creature bellows in pain and lunges at König, who barely manages to dodge the strike but loses his grip on his sword in the process. The monstrous animal whips around and around, attempting to grab hold of the sword with its teeth.
“Strike, now!” König calls before promptly getting clocked in the head with the pommel of his own sword as the beast thrashes and screams.
You don’t hesitate to spring into action, unsheathing a wicked-sharp blade as long as your forearm and sprinting towards the creature. König’s left you a perfect opening: as long as the beast is trying to get ahold of the sword, its chest is wide open for attack.
You don’t waste the opportunity. With the running start, you leap forward, sinking the blade into the wolf’s chest, right where its heart lies. The long, keening wail that the beast lets out is confirmation that your blade has struck true.
You have to throw yourself into a roll to get out of the way before the massive body crashes down on top of you. It lies on the ground, its heaving breaths growing shallower by the moment, its wounds staining the ground with a faintly shimmering golden ichor. So the fae do have golden blood, just like the old legends said, you think, watching the macabre scene with stunned terror.
“Brought low by two fae-touched mortals with barely a fight…” the beast huffs. It sounds weary and resigned to its fate, strange for a creature that had seemed so deadly and menacing just moments before. “Fate is cruel.”
“Fae-touched…what do you mean?” you ask, eyes widening. “Wait! What do you mean by that?!”
The beast doesn’t respond, its chest now hardly moving with its breaths. It’s not long for the world, now.
Behind the hulking, dying animal, you spot König staggering into a standing position. “König!” You gather yourself and rush towards him.
He’s visibly unstable on his feet, swaying slightly and looking dazed. The sword must have hit him hard, because his hood has been partially torn away. Despite everything, though, you can’t see any visible blood or injuries from this angle. Until he turns.
A bloodcurdling scream tears its way out of your throat. König cringes slightly at the sound, but you can’t help yourself. The sight is terrifying.
The skin above one half of his mouth is simply gone. He has no lip, not even any flesh up to his nose. His upper teeth and gums on one half of his mouth are just exposed, giving him a grim, unnatural appearance. He looks like Death itself, resembling the skeletal depictions in the manuscripts.
You should be afraid—scratch that, you are afraid. But you realize quickly your fear is not of him, but for him.
“Did it do this to you?!” you say, panicking. You dash forward and grab ahold of his face, turning it so you can examine the injury more closely. The act seems to startle König, who simply looks down at you in confusion.
“What are we going to do? There’s no way this village has a healer who could dress this wound…” you fret. An injury on this level is almost certainly a death sentence if he doesn’t receive adequate attention immediately, and he certainly won’t last the night if you’re forced to travel by horseback again—
“Schatzi…” König grabs your hands with his and removes them from his face. “I’m fine.”
You stare at him in shock for a moment. “You—how can—you—”
He heaves a heavy sigh, as if a massive burden has been placed on his shoulders. “I’m alright. The wound is…not new.”
“How can it not be new.”
König screws his eyes shut for a moment as if trying to gather his composure. “It’s been this way since I was young. Look,” he says, touching the area with a finger. “There’s no blood.”
On closer inspection, you realize he’s right: not only is there no blood, but the skin around his mouth and nose appear to be completely healed. And not even as if it were a true wound: there’s no scarring, no uneven flesh. The skin and muscle are simply…missing.
“What…how…” You’re at a total loss for words. Since he was young? What happened? How had he survived such an injury as a child? You have a million questions, but you find yourself unable to ask any of them.
You watch him, stunned, as he walks past you towards the beast’s body. It lays completely still now, all semblance of life having fled from the corpse. With one hand on the grip and one foot braced against the beast’s body, he wrenches his sword free, then bends to pull your knife out.
“I know you must have questions,” he says, wiping the blood off of both weapons onto the wolf’s fur with a grimace, “but I can’t answer them here. Please, if I promise to explain, will you…will you wait until we’ve left the village?” He turns to look at you beseechingly.
“I…” Now that the adrenaline and initial panic is beginning to fade, your whole body feels heavy and exhausted. You don’t have the energy to be angry, or afraid, or demand an explanation now. You have no choice but to agree, nodding quietly. König seems relieved at your calm response.
“So that’s why you always wear a mask or a hood,” you say numbly as you watch him take the ruined hood off, shaking his head to get the hair out of his face. He gives you a sad, regretful look.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.”
“Did you mean for me to find out at all?”
“I never meant for anyone to find out.”
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The villagers throw a celebration. A modest one, to be sure, but the relief on the peoples’ faces is enough of a reward for you. You can tell König is glad to see it as well—though every time you look at his face, hidden once more behind his mask, you feel a twinge in your heart as you remember what lies underneath it.
You can’t find it in yourself to enjoy the celebrations, even as excited children and grateful parents swarm you to give their thanks. You give them all a smile and a kind word, but that’s all you can manage. Dread and curiosity mix to form a terrible feeling in your gut.
The days between your defeat of the beast and your departure go by in a blur. You’re grateful for the rest, but you can’t stop thinking, worrying, about König’s condition. You manage to stop being petrified that he’s going to drop dead of infection at any moment, but you can’t look at him anymore without thinking about it. About the secret that he’s kept from you, from everyone who’s ever met him. You can’t even wrap your mind around what it all means. You have no point of reference for what could have happened to your husband’s face.
Husband. What a strange thing, to be wed to someone whose full face you had only seen a few days ago, months into your marriage. You haven’t thought of him like that at all. He’s always been König: the king, the enemy, the annoyance. And your lover, you suppose. For the first time, you start to wonder exactly what kind of man you’ve bound yourself to.
Because it’s exceedingly clear to you now. You can’t kill this man. Not just because you don’t want to anymore, but because he might be unkillable.
The village hasn’t yet vanished in the distance behind the two of you when you speak. “What the hell?”
König’s eyes slide to you, then back to the road ahead. “Language.”
You sputter in indignation. “Lang—that’s not what I want to hear!”
“Forgive me. I couldn’t resist.”
“König, this is serious! You promised an explanation.”
“I know what I promised,” he says, a slight edge creeping into his voice.
“Well?”
König takes as deep breath. Inhale, exhale.
Then he begins.
“Well. What do we have here? You’re awfully young for this, little prince.”
He’s fourteen. He’s about to make a decision that will shape the rest of his life.
He had done as the crone’s old tome instructed. Bone from an animal slain in its youth. Flowers bloomed under the cover of pitch black night. A blade whet on the summoner’s own flesh. He’s knelt under the light of the full moon, round and blindingly white.
The ethereal creature standing before him is easily twice his height, with an unearthly glow to their skin and hair and a smile that could almost be mistaken for kind and benevolent on their unnaturally beautiful face.
He’s done it. He’s summoned a fae.
With no small amount of difficulty, he rises to his feet, leaning heavily on the cane that helps him walk. The fae lets out a noise of amusement as they watch the young boy struggle.
“Usually, mortals don’t gamble away their lives until they’re older, and greed begins to dictate their actions.”
He glares at the fae but doesn’t respond.
“Come, now. Do not look at me so. Give me your name, little prince.”
“…you may call me König.”
The fae’s expression sharpens, ever so slightly. “Clever boy. ‘König’…don’t you think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself?”
“I want to make a deal.”
The fae sighs. “Straight to the point, I see. Well, I can’t fault your efficiency. Or is it desperation?” They smirk at him, their eyes taking the rest of him in. He knows he must make for a pathetic sight: a cripple with a harelip, spine curled and legs thin and spindly.
He doesn’t care. This is the last day he will ever be this pathetic.
“Let me guess. You wish to no longer be a cripple.”
“I want to be able bodied. I want to be strong enough to defeat my enemies. I want to be rid of my harelip.” Clear, concise language. He’s spoken these words to himself in the mirror countless times.
“You’ve certainly done your research. Then you know what price I will ask for such things.”
He swallows nervously. “Yes.”
“Very well then. Let us begin.”
It starts in his toes, the strange sensation that flows up through him that he will know all his days. He can feel the strength rushing into his limbs, feel his spine straightening, withered muscles coming to life.
Then comes the pain.
It’s white-hot torment, as if his body has become a living coal. He falls to the ground again, screaming and writhing as his bones crack and realign themselves. Somewhere, in the distance, he can hear the fae’s cruel laughter as they watch him suffer. For a brief moment, some primal, animal part of his brain thinks he’s going to die.
“Fret not, boy king. You won’t perish—I won’t let you until you give me what you’ve promised me,” the fae says, as if they can hear his thoughts.
He’s not sure how long he lays there on the ground, body wracked with agony. It feels like hours pass before he regains use of his limbs. But the pain does eventually fade away, leaving him dazed but still alive. Slowly, he manages to stand up again.
He stares at himself in wonder, legs and arms stretching. For the first time ever, he’s able to stand tall and straight on his own, his cane discarded to the side. And he feels strong. At last, he doesn’t feel weak for once.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The fae’s face has changed: they still look the same, but there’s a beastly, ugly quality to their lovely features that chills him to the bone.
His hands fly instantly to his face. The harelip is still there, he notes with displeasure.
“You forgot something,” he says, frowning in his lopsided way.
“Oh, I didn’t.” Before König can react, the fae’s eyes hollow and grow dark, becoming two pools of endless void. Their teeth sharpen, their face grows gaunt.
“Remember what you owe, boy king,” they remind him. “On the day and the hour your first child is born, I will come to collect.”
He doesn’t even have time to scream before the fae reaches forward with black talons and tears off his mouth.
You’re rendered speechless by his story. Where do you even start?
Your first thoughts are of the way he described himself as a child. König, weak and crippled? König? You look at him now, eighteen hands high astride his horse, the picture of raw strength and dominance. You can’t imagine it at all.
Your second thought is— “You made a deal with the fae? Do you know how foolish that is? Fae never give you what you want, and the cost is always far too high!”
“Don’t lecture me,” he says tightly. “I know what I was getting myself into. I had no other choice.”
“What do you mean, no other choice? You were the king’s son—you are the king! You could have had servants carry you everywhere if need be!��
“You don’t understand what it was like,” König snarls, turning to you with fire in his eyes. “Nobody would have accepted a cripple as their king. My life would constantly have been in danger, having to rely upon others. Unable to even defend myself if an assassin set upon me in my bed.” He’s getting angrier, more worked up as he goes.
“I told you that I was once poisoned as a child with nightshade berries. Did you wonder why there was such a plant in my mother’s garden? Why the royal heir was unsupervised for so long in the first place?” König’s expression is twisted, his voice turned bitter with betrayal. “It was a plot against me by some of my father’s advisors. They conspired with my nursemaid to make it seem like an accident…they expected me to die.”
“I…I’m sorry, König. I didn’t think.”
He glances at you and takes a moment to collect himself before speaking. “I was lucky. My father sent for the best healers he could find. My mother cried at my bedside for weeks.” His brow furrows. “My lot in life could have been worse: my parents loved me, at the very least. But it made me hate myself even more—that I was such a profound disappointment.
“My mother had a difficult birth. Some whispered that it was penance for what my father did: that the spirits of those slain during his campaigns had cursed my mother’s womb. She never was able to conceive again…so all their hopes rested upon my shoulders. My crippled, useless shoulders.”
The venom in his voice when he talks about himself makes your heart ache with sympathy. You move your horse closer to his and put a hand on his arm, squeezing him in what you hope is a comforting manner. His expression softens as he looks down at you.
“It would have been easy for you to kill me if I were still like that, liebe.” You feel your face grow warm again at the term of endearment.
“It makes sense, your strength being fae-given…Calliope said there was something not right about you.”
“Calliope is a perceptive woman.”
You study his face, eyes regarding his mask in a new light. “It really doesn’t look so bad. I only reacted that way because I thought you were injured.”
He shrugs. “Never was that good-looking anyway.”
You make a face. “Are you suggesting I sleep with ugly men?”
“You’ve only slept with me.”
“I’m trying to compliment you.”
“You think I’m handsome?”
“When you’re not annoying me.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Well, now you know.”
You study him. He seems relieved to have finally gotten this off his shoulders. “Do you regret it?”
He gets a faraway look in his eyes. “…No.”
The village’s leader had advised an alternate path back home: it might take you a day or two longer, but it was less remote and lined with other villages. You arrive at the first inn just as the sun is about to duck beneath the horizon, the sky streaked with orange.
It’s a serene part of the wood, and the inn is quite quaint as well. Whoever runs it has done well for themselves, you think absentmindedly as you and König dismount and prepare to unload.
A side door swings open, and a quite frankly huge man walks out, facing away from the two of you. Your sense of scale is attuned to König now, so he’s of course not the biggest man you’ve ever seen, but he’s broad-shouldered and thick with muscle. You can’t see his face from this angle, but you can just about spot his blond hair—
“Shit. Shit.” König instantly spins around so his horse is between him and the man who’s just walked out of the building. You squint. Is he…hiding?
“What’s going on? Should I be worried?”
“No. Yes. Maybe.” Is he cringing? “Do you think it’s too late to set up camp?”
“Set up camp? When there’s a perfectly good inn right there?”
“Yes!”
“What has gotten into you? That man is quite big, but he’s not that sc—”
“I’m not scared of him, I just recognize him. And I don’t particularly feel like seeing him.”
You’re agog at the scene before you. “You’re the king.”
“Even kings have their hangups, alright?”
“I am not sleeping in the woods.”
“As your husband and supreme ruler, I demand it.”
“Come now. I know you’re tired of fucking me outside.”
That gives him serious pause, which almost makes you giggle. Ridiculous man. You could probably lead him onto an executioner’s block if you held him by the cock.
“Please,” you beg, stepping forward to hold his hand and giving him the biggest, most wide eyes you can muster. “I’m not ready to go back to sleeping on the ground yet.”
His face scrunches up in a hopelessly endearing, almost childlike way. “Fine. But you have to go in and talk to the innkeep. I’m going to stay out here.”
“I don’t know what all the fuss is, but fine. You big baby.” You hand him your horse’s reins and make your way to the front door of the inn.
You’ve barely pushed the door very far at all before you hear a friendly voice from inside. “Welcome, traveler! Come on in.”
“It’s wonderful to make your—” You stop in the doorway, frozen with shock.
“It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, your highness.” A pair of familiar sparkling eyes look back at you. “And you can tell his majesty that he can come inside, I’ve already seen him.”
König’s first wife stands before you, watching your reaction with clear amusement.
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Forgive me for that smut. It's been years since I've written anything nsfw, and I wrote this at like. 5AM after a very long day because when I'm not exhausted, writing smut becomes impossible. It's quite the pickle.
Well...I did say that part 3 was going to be a doozy! I'm looking forward to all the reactions...🤭
Comments and feedback are of course always appreciated <3
@kneelingshadowsalome @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @keiva1000 @catluvwr @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @channelsoph @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @lexuria @complexivelovely
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lukesaprince · 1 year
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Rich Part 3 H.S
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Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. Harry and y/n run into each other on a night out and an argument begins Part 1 Part 2
warning: fingering, slight exhibitionism (she a bit mild this time hehe)
word count: 12k+
author’s note: Rich part three is hereeeee, and not three months late haha. A little milder on the smut and more plot based to set up for the birthday party in part 4. Happy Reading! x
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- Find my General Masterlist here -
After a quick shower that ended up being by yourself because of a phone call Harry had to take, the two of you sat down for dinner. You were kind of glad that you were able to have that time by yourself to process the situation you were in, although he was right in saying it was a struggle to keep yourself upright.
At the beginning of the night, you didn't even know if he wanted to sleep with you again, or if he regretted doing it in the first place. Now you knew the answer to both of those questions and had found yourself in a friends-with-benefits relationship with Harry Styles.
He was the last person you expected to be in this situation with. Friends-with-benefits felt too childish to fit who he was as a person.  Casual sex maybe, a booty call? You weren't sure exactly. None of those terms really fit a relationship that had a set day where you'd sleep together.
You assumed this day would change week to week, just like your weekly dinner did, but still, it was very definite and planned. It was so Harry just the idea drove you crazy. Everything was organised and structured with him, the complete opposite of you.
Your daily walk was the only set thing in your day, everything else was planned on the spot or done when you felt like it, not at a specific time. You hoped some of his organisation might rub off on you, especially when you go back to university.
Procrastination was your worst enemy, and something told you that Harry didn't even know what that word meant. You were sure he would've had a study schedule and daily schedule, both that he followed religiously. A little smile grew on your lips at the thought of what Harry was like when he was in university. You assumed he did it in England and you could only imagine the trouble he got up to.
From what you gathered, Australian and English parties were similar in the way that drinking and house parties started when you were like 16. That may be a generalisation and you were sure Aussie parties were a lot more feral than the ones he went to, but you still found yourself picturing what he was like.
He would've had to be a ladies' man back then as well. There was no way his charisma just popped up out of nowhere when he got older, he was too in tune with it. To be fair though, he was in his late 30s so he did have a lot more time to mature and find his path than you did. You had been on dates and hooked up with guys even in their late 20s, and the maturity and self-assurance levels were nowhere near Harry's.
"Why are you smiling like that?" Harry rose his brow and poured more wine into your glass.
"Thank you" you grabbed the glass and leaned back in your chair, in the comfort of your dress that you had left in the poorhouse. It was the one you planned to get changed into before you found out Harry had come home early. "Just thinking about what you were like when you went to university" you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine.
He chuckled and shook his head, "now why are you thinking 'bout that?" His hand stretched out on the back of your chair and started playing with strands of your loose hair that was gathered around your shoulder.
"I'm curious what type of college boy you were.” your eyes drifted to his ring-clad hand, the light catching the array of rings as he fiddled with your hair. He opted to sit beside you again, but you didn't mind the closeness.
A small smile played on his lips before he full on chuckled and sipped his wine, looking down into the glass. “I was nothing like I am today, that’s for sure.”
“What do you mean?” You asked, shifting in your seat so your knees were angled towards him.
“In my formative years of college I was a downright bastard, still am really, but in a different way” he looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips. When he saw your brows furrowed in confusion he elaborated. “Back then all I cared about were girls and drinking. If I wasn’t getting laid or about to get blackout drunk I wasn’t interested. College felt like a past time to get into someone’s pants”
You couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing to think about younger Harry trying to flirt with girls. Now he barely had to before someone approached him wanting to go home with him. With you, all he had to do was look at you a certain way and you were ready to take your clothes off for him. Maybe it was like that then, you could imagine how charming he was when he was younger and investing more time getting laid.
He was nothing like you thought he’d be, academically. But he would’ve had to change at some point to get to where he is now. The Harry sat beside you definitely wasn’t interested in getting drunk. Sleeping with women, sure, he was the neighbourhood dilf without kids for sure and he had no issue finding someone to keep his bed warm. But even though he enjoyed it, it didn’t rule his life, his work did.
“So how did you get here then?” You took a sip of your own wine, feeling shivers go down your spine as his fingers brushed against your skin.
“Even though I didn’t care for it, I still studied. I knew I wanted to do business right out of high school. Money was one thing more important to me than drinks or women, and it was always a long term goal of mine to end up on Wall Street or at a top firm in London. The first two years were basically wasted, I was still passing but I didn’t put much effort in it. My final year was when I put my head down and worked hard… Went on to do business school after that” his voice was so nice to listen to you could’ve listened to him talk all day.
“Did you do it in England?”
"Mhmm. Went to Oxford for business, then went straight into working. I moved around in different companies, mostly in data analysis and client liaising." his fingers moved on from your hair to the strap of your dress, playing with the tie there. His eyes were still on your face the entire time he spoke.
"Oxford, huh? That's awesome! I've always wanted to do a semester abroad or do like a Summer course there. How was it? Did it live up to its reputation" you perked up at the mention of the university. The thought of travelling to the UK or Europe as part of your degree was super enticing, and something you were seriously considering.
"It was beautiful, you'd love it" he smiled softly, "The grounds are gorgeous, and the teachers really are experts in their field. If you have the opportunity to go you definitely should" he looked away for a moment and pondered over his next words. "I may even have some contacts there if you'd like? I visited the campus before I moved here and did a seminar on my business journey, I'm sure I could reach out for you if you know what you're interested in"
He hated the idea of you moving away. Be it a protective streak or selfishly wanting you close by. You went back to your university during the semester, but even then it was only a couple hours' drive away from where you lived. Your course was full time so it made sense to live closer to campus, but realistically you could drive down and see your parents... or Harry every weekend if you wanted to.
Having you overseas made something dark grow in the pit of Harry's stomach, but he pushed it away and focused on how excited you looked at the opportunity. Besides, a contact wasn't a guarantee that it would happen. Although Harry knew that you were more than capable of selling yourself and going after the opportunities you wanted.
"Wow, Harry. You'd do that?" you asked in disbelief.
"Of course, I would. You tell me when you're ready and I'll be waiting to make the call" he smiled softly and slid his hand up to cup your cheek, running his thumb against your bottom lip for a second before he stood up.
"Thank you, that really means a lot" you smiled back and placed your hand over the one he had on your cheek.
He wanted to kiss you so badly it hurt, but kissing leads to snogging which leads to him needing to rip your clothes off and it was just too late in the evening for that. Harry was usually satisfied after sex, one round or four he was always happy to retire for the night once it was finished. With you though...
It had been well over an hour since he had you naked, and yet he felt so unsatisfied and deeply hungry for your pussy all over his cock. Seeing you ride him so well would've had to be one of the most pornographic experiences he had in his entire life, and he just couldn't get it out of his head. You were such a tempting little thing, sitting right next to him in a short Summer dress with your hair down and all pretty... like you were just begging to be bent over again and fucked.
"How about some desert?" He cleared his throat. Harry needed a distraction, so he gathered the plates and cutlery in a pile and brought them to the sink.
You checked the time on your phone before responding, seeing that it was quite late already and that your parents might grow suspicious if you were at his house for too long. Your mum had texted you a little while ago wondering how long you’d be and you didn’t want to keep her waiting longer than the ‘be home soon’ text you sent back.
"I better not, it's already quite late" you smiled apologetically and stood up after him, grabbing the wine glasses and following him to the sink.
"Alright then" he almost sounded disappointed, but it was always hard to read the tone in Harry's voice so you weren't exactly sure. He placed his dishes in the sink, ready to rinse them before they'd go in the dishwasher "Why don't you grab your things while I clean up, love. I can handle this"
"Are you sure? I'm happy to help" you replied, not wanting to leave it all to him since he cooked. "You did cook, I can do the cleaning up"
"No, 's alright. Go get changed and grab your things" he replied, looking down at your dress momentarily.
"Right, can't have my parents seeing all these" you blushed and scratched your head, motioning to the marks littered across your chest and neck.
"Mhmm" he hummed, his eyes getting drawn to the marks again. He reached out and softly ran the back of his hand over your chest, right under your collarbones. "Keep these for my eyes only, darling. Can you do that?" his eyes met yours again.
Your breath got caught in your chest and you nodded, squeezing your thighs and feeling the ache between them from how hard he fucked you earlier. "Okay" you whispered.
"Good girl" he smiled, then turned back to the sink like nothing happened.
You quickly let the room to collect your belongings and change back into your bike shorts and t-shirt. The t-shirt could cover your hickeys much better than your strappy dress, and it would've looked weird just over the top of it so it made sense to change completely. You were glad you took your hair down because if it was up the marks on your jaw would’ve been seen easily.
You tucked everything into the canvas bag you brought and made your way back into the kitchen, finding Harry turning the dishwasher on. God... even like that he looked so delicious you could've screamed. You still didn't understand how you managed to get yourself in this situation, but fuck were you glad you did.
"So... any exciting plans this weekend?" you asked, making your presence known to him.
It felt almost invasive to ask the question, because even though you saw him every day you didn't really know much about him or his personal life. But you had now slept together twice and had come up with an arrangement to keep sleeping together, so you should've been allowed to ask him what plans he had.
Part of you asked him just so he'd ask you back. Your plans with your friends weren't too exciting, but you knew that you'd end up in a club by the end of the night. You kinda wanted Harry to know that you'd be out in the wild with other men around and you weren't really sure why.
Was it to prove that you could get other men? Or did a tiny part of you want him to feel jealous or at the very least spend his Saturday night thinking about you? Harry didn't seem like the kind of man to get jealous because he always got what he wanted. Still, the urge to make him jealous was there.
You didn't know why, especially when this wasn't a relationship and you could fuck whoever you wanted, but the thought of Harry being possessive and taking it out on you was insanely appealing. Especially after his comment about keeping your marks for his eyes only.
He looked up and shrugged, drying his hands on a tea towel. "Not really, might go down to the city tomorrow night to catch up with some mates, but I'm not sure if I'll go. What about you, love?" He leaned against the island bench and looked at you.
You shrugged back, silently happy that you were able to boast about your plans. "Going out with some friends tomorrow night. Think we're getting drinks and going clubbing but I'm not sure exactly. My friend just got dumped so I think she's looking for someone to rebound with"
His brow quirked the slightest while the rest of his face stayed neutral. "That sounds... fun." he chose his words carefully, knowing a sweaty club full of horny people was the last place he wanted to be in. "I haven't been clubbing for years but I remember what it was like. Be safe won't you?"
The thought of you being in a sweaty club full of horny people, however, never made him want to be there more. He hated the idea of some other dickhead trying to dance with you or kiss you, or god forbid have sex with you. No one could fuck you like he could and you both knew it, but you weren’t his so he couldn’t really do anything to stop it.
You nodded, feeling your heart beat faster at the thought of Harry being in a club. You honestly hated the experience of dancing with some random guy. You hated random makeout sessions and grinding on a stranger, it never felt good. It never made you horny or even happy that you could pull someone, it just made you feel dirty.
But imagining Harry up against your back, sliding his hands around your body and pressing his lips to your neck while you danced made you all kinds of turned on. Anything Harry did was sexy and the thought of grinding on him and feeling him grow hard against you in a club full of strangers was so alluring.
"Always am" you smiled, "I better be going, my mum's already asked when I'm coming home"
"I'll walk you out" he smiled softly, walking towards you and placing his hand on your lower back to guide you out of his house. "She often check up on you like that?"
"When I'm home, yes. She likes to know where I am and what I'm doing because I'm under her roof. When I'm at uni it's more of a daily, 'missing you' text or phone call so she hears my voice" you replied, smiling up at him as you both approached his front door.
"I hope I haven't made a bad impression on her, keeping you late like this when we have dinner" his brows furrowed a little as he opened the front door, blocking the bottom half with one of his legs so Archie wouldn't run straight out.
"You haven't. Like everyone else she finds you attractive so I'm sure she doesn't mind" your eyes widened when you realised what you had admitted. You fit under the umbrella of ‘everyone’ and admitting that both you and your mum found him attractive was a little embarrassing.
Harry seemed to find it amusing though, and a small smirk played on his lips. “Yeah? Everyone huh? That include you, darling?” He pushed the door closed, pressing his palm against it above your head. You weren’t pressed against the door, but his height and hand was enough to make you feel closed in.
“I do tend to sleep with people I’m attracted to” you breathed, chuckling nervously and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He rose a brow and grabbed your waist, pulling you closer.
“The feelings are mutual, sweetheart” he leaned in, making you close your eyes in preparation for him to kiss you. When he missed your mouth and kissed the corner of it, your eyes opened and your brows furrowed in disappointment. “Sleep well, and be good.”
He opened the door properly this time and ordered Archie to sit so he wouldn’t run out and you could get out. You tried to not blush at the embarrassment you felt for expecting a proper kiss and turned, crouching down to scratch behind Archie’s ears and kiss the bridge of his nose. ���Night, Arch”
You stood up and adjusted your bag on your shoulder. “Night, Harry” you smiled at him and stepped out onto his doorstep.
“Goodnight, love”
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Your Saturday started as typical as you thought it’d be. You slept in and went on your walk in the afternoon instead of bright and early like you usually would. You hoped you’d run into Harry at some point, but his car was gone when you left. When you got home, he was back but was already inside.
You were so curious about him as a person, what his life was like. He did grocery shopping like any normal person, but there was something just so enigmatic about him that made you want to know every single detail about him and his day. He could’ve had a secret family back in England and you’d have no idea.
You weren’t hosting tonight’s pre’s which was kind of disappointing. If you were hosting, Harry might’ve gotten a glimpse of you all dressed up and come out to talk to you, or at the very least you’d be able to see him all dressed up and going out to see his friends. You wondered what his friends were like. Were they as charismatic as him? As organised and serious in their day-to-day lives?
Maybe they were fun and lively and encouraged Harry to drink and get up to no good. It was hard to imagine Harry drunk, or even singing karaoke like you’d do with your friends. You were sure there was a fun side of him, but so far you hadn’t seen it.
You drove to your friend Lucy’s house, who was already a margarita in when you arrived. She lived quite close, only a couple minutes away so the two of you often hung out and went for walks over Summer when she wasn’t working. You went to the same high school, and she was one of the few friends you kept, even after you started living near campus during uni semesters.
The other girls, Abbey and Priya, you met through Lucy. You met over New Year’s when Lucy hosted a party and you just clicked. Since then, the four of you had hung out as much as you could. You weren’t sure if the friendships were going to last once uni started again, but you were happy with just having a Summer friendship with these girls.
They were fun and you always had a laugh when you hung out with them. Tonight, was all about Abbey though. Her boyfriend of two years just dumped her completely out of the blue so she was on the hunt for some hunk to get under so she could get over her ex. The plan was to hit up some of the classier bars in the city where the rich businessmen hung out so she could find someone with money. Although she didn’t want a relationship, she wouldn’t have said no to someone who could fund her shopping addiction.
So, once you had all gotten ready and were sufficiently tipsy (less than your usual level so you could all find Abbey a man), you Ubered to the train station and made your way to the city. The ride was a lot longer than it felt, and soon you were all giggling and making your way into the first bar.
You had booked this one because you had high hopes, but after you each got a cocktail and did a few laps to find a suiter, there was just no one interesting. Your eyes were strictly looking for Abbey, but even if you were looking for yourself no one stood out. The same thing happened at the second bar, so you all decided that you’d give one more bar a shot before you got rid of the plan and just went to find someone in a club.
Abbey was aiming high, but at the end of the day she was happy to just get laid for a bit of a confidence boost. You honestly wished you could tell the girls how good you were getting dicked down, but you knew you couldn’t tell a soul about you and Harry. No one could know, and you were willing to keep it a secret to keep your thing with him going.
God… you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The way his lips felt on yours, his body hovered over you and his fingers digging into his thighs. His gorgeous, gorgeous hand wrapped around your neck with the metal of his rings cooling your heated skin. Everything about it made your body shiver, and you were having a hard time concentrating on your plan when your mind seemed to constantly be on him.
You already wanted him again and he only fucked you yesterday. You genuinely didn’t know how you were going to make it through the week.
Priya and Abbey walked into the bar past security ahead of you, arms linked and laughing about something. Lucy and you did the same, letting them walk in front so Abbey could pick where she wanted to sit for the optimum people watching. The bar was pretty busy, with many people crowding the bar.
There was loud music playing and barely any free tables or chairs. Luck seemed to be on your side because the hostess led you to a table in the corner of the room with a pretty good view of the entire place.
“Y/n, don’t look now but I’m pretty sure that’s your hot dilf boss, Harry over there” Lucy hissed in your ear, tugging your arm in the general direction of where she was referring to. She pulled you to sit down beside her with Priya and Abbey opposite you and against the wall so Abbey had the optimum view of the bar.
Your eyes widened and despite her ‘don’t look now’ suggestion, your head snapped over in the direction she was tugging. You almost didn’t believe her, and when you couldn’t find him past the bar, you thought she was just fucking with you. But when you looked a little closer, you found his gorgeous mop of curls slightly hidden behind a blonde head.
He was sat with his back against the wall and was facing your direction. He was with three other men, none who you really paid attention to, and had the biggest grin on his face, laughing animatedly at something one of his friends said. What were the chances, that in all the bars in the entire Melbourne CBD he was here?
You must’ve been turned a little too long, because all of a sudden, his eyes flicked to yours. They widened ever so slightly in recognition, and it made you panic that he had seen you. You quickly turned back around and looked down at your bag, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart.
“What did I say about ‘don’t look now’, you idiot!” Lucy exclaimed in your ear.
“I’m sorry! I thought you were kidding” you hissed back.
He looked so good. Fuck, he looked so good. He was wearing this loose slightly see-through white button up shirt that exposed the perfect amount of chest due to the top two buttons being undone. His cross necklace laid so gorgeous between his pecs, and you could tell he was wearing a second one because the light caught onto something closer to his neck.
His hair was ruffled and slightly pulled back away from his face, and it was honestly so erotic you could barely contain yourself. You could see the outlines of his tattoos through his shirt, and it just made you think back to what they looked like hovered over you.
“He looks so fucking hot too, maybe he’s Abbey’s rich guy” she giggled, looking at the menu on her phone to figure out what drink she wanted.
“No!” you said, a bit too loudly and making Priya and Abbey look over from their conversation. Lucy looked at you strangely. Fuck.
“What? Have you found someone?” Abbey asked excitedly, shifting in her seat at the idea.
“No, uhm…” you coughed awkwardly, until an idea sparked in your mind, “actually, yes” you sat a bit straighter in your seat. “My boss is here, and I was just thinking that his friends look super hot… and rich” you explained, hoping that she’d completely ignore the sex-god you had the pleasure of being in bed with last night.
“Show me, show me!” you refused to turn around and simple pointed over your shoulder.
“Look past the bar, the group of four. The guy with the curly hair facing us is my boss” you replied, hoping she’d get the message that he was completely off limits.
It wasn’t the fact that it would be so weird if they hooked up. It was the fact that you wanted him and didn’t want anyone, friends or not, touching him. It was crazy, yes, but you were drunk and horny, so it just felt right in the moment.
“Holy shit, y/n. That’s Harry? He’s fucking gorgeous” Priya’s eyes widened, and she fanned herself for dramatic effect. “No wonder you always want to be working for him, I’d want to see that face every day too”
“Tell me about it!” Lucy piped up, “last time I was at y/n’s he was shirtless and mowing his lawn, I’ve never seen abs like that in my life!”
“I want him” Abbey moaned, “he’s so hot y/n, can I have him instead?”
Your fuse was blowing, fast. They had barely started thirsting over him and you felt like you were going to explode. Was this jealousy? Possessiveness? You didn’t know, but you hated feeling like this over someone who definitely didn’t feel the same back. Besides, you had no right to feel possessive over someone who you only wanted a casual relationship with.
“No! That would be so weird. I could never look at either of you again… look, I’m gonna go pee, you order a drink and then I’ll take you over and introduce you. The blonde one looks so hot! You like blondes, don’t you?”
You had no idea if the blonde was hot, you hadn’t even seen his face yet, but you were just trying to say anything to make her back off. She thought about it for a second then shrugged, “dick is dick, and you’re right, I do love a blonde” she giggled, then started going into some random dream she had.
“I’ll be right back” you told Lucy, touching her arm and standing up.
This conversation had sobered you up a little, and you just needed a breather to process what was happening and what you just agreed to. You didn’t want to go talk to Harry! You could barely have a conversation with him in private, let alone say hi to him and introduce Abbey to his friends. The thought was mortifying.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come? I don’t want you going by yourself” her brows furrowed, and she went to stand up, but you stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m good, honestly. I just need a second” you assured her.
“If you throw up don’t tell me, you know I hate vomit” Priya replied, fake gagging then laughing at her own comment. You smiled at how drunk she still was and grabbed your bag.
The bathrooms were right near Harry’s table, something you didn’t anticipate. But it would’ve been more obviously awkward for you to just spin back around after walking in that direction. You tried not to look at him and kept your face high and forward so you wouldn’t accidentally face his direction.
You could just feel his gaze over you as you walked past the table, but you kept your face forward and pushed the door open to the small hallway that the bathrooms backed onto. You released the breath you didn’t even know you were holding and went into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror to check yourself out.
There were a couple of girls reapplying lipstick or washing their hands, but you found a spot and adjusted your hair. It was already puffy from the humidity, as well as the grossness that bar air seemed to have. The second you entered a bar or club it was like you turned ten times uglier and your hair went to absolute shit.
The copious amounts of hairspray you had to hold your curls seemed to help, so you just brought it over your chest a little to cover more skin than your dress did. You opted for a short strapless denim mini dress tonight, which was a mistake considering how many hickeys you had to cover. Before you left the house you sat in your room and used a whisk to try and get rid of the bruising as much as you could.
It helped a lot, and after icing it the bruises were more splotchy and red which was a lot easier to cover. Still, you felt raw and exposed and regretted your outfit choice. The idea of seeing Harry was a lot more appealing than actually seeing him, especially when you were at the same bar and it wasn’t just in passing.
Your body was hot and sweaty, and it wasn’t from the heat. Any time you were around Harry it was like your body came alive with need for him. You could just look at him from afar and he turned you on. You wondered if you had the same effect on him, but you doubted that was true. He was disciplined in every way so you figured that he could keep his lust at bay too.
After taking a few deep breaths and reapplying your lipstick, you exited the bathroom and faltered when you saw Harry standing there, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of you. Your eyes widened and you let yourself have a good look at him.
He paired his shirt with a pair of loose black slacks and loafers. His hand was tucked in his pocket hiding the rings you were sure he had on, and as you looked back up you caught sight of a dainty chain necklace with little pearls around his neck. It was different from his work suits, but equally as attractive.
“Harry” you stuttered, stopping in your tracks and gripping your hand back tight.
“Hi, love. Fancy seeing you here” he drawled, looking you up and down casually, his eyes pausing at the distinct tan lines you had of the same tiny bikini you wore the first time the two of you had sex. The memory had your pussy clenching. “You look… phenomenal”
Harry’s fingers dug into his thigh, trying to ground himself and not get hard at the mere sight of you. You looked stunning, and he couldn’t get the idea of dragging you into the bathroom and fucking you in that barely-there dress of yours out of his head. The cutest blush crept up your neck, peaking through your makeup just enough for Harry to notice.
“Thank you” you blushed, stepping forward so you were out of the way. “You look really good too… I love this” you wouldn’t have normally complimented him like that, but you were tipsy, and he looked good enough to eat. You reached out and picked up one of the pearls on his necklace, fiddling it and letting your hand brush against his neck.
He let out a shuddered breath and closed his eyes momentarily, just your touch making him go absolutely feral with need for you. “Have you been having a good night? How’s that friend of yours doing?” He asked, trying to change the subject and divert the tension as soon as humanly possible.
You let go of his necklace and took a little step back, so you weren’t so close to him. “It’s been good, this is our third bar and Abbey still hasn’t found someone to hook up with so she’s getting a bit restless. I’m having fun though, being a match maker is much better than being the one trying to get matched” you looked down, the heat of his gaze making it incredibly hard for you to get your words out.
“That happen to you before? Your friends trying to match you up with someone?” He raised a brow, the thought making him way too tense.
Harry had this craving of spending the rest of his night with you, making sure that no other guy even looked in your direction. It was utterly inappropriate for him to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. When you were stood in front of him with a dress that showed off your figure perfectly and exposed your cleavage and legs, he was barely standing up straight.
“Yes” you scoffed, laughing. “Always. They think I’m going to be forever single and be deprived of dic-a man” you coughed a little at your own words, pressing yourself against the wall and tilting your head against it, looking away from him.
“God, you’re so fucking cute when you’re drunk” he laughed, like a full deep belly laugh with a big grin on his face. You looked back at him and could feel your face redden. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked, running a hand through his gorgeous hair with a little shake of his head. He was staring right at you, and it took everything in you not to go mute just at the eye contact.
“Enough to be happy” you smiled; your words slurred the tiniest bit. “Are any of your friends single?” you followed up with the second question quickly, your mind flashing to your task of Abbey and the hot blonde at Harry’s table. “The blonde one by any chance? And possibly into 22-year-olds?”
“Why do you want to know?” his smile left his face, and that jealousy streak inside him flared up again. You were standing here with him and yet you were asking about another guy? Something about that just made Harry feel beyond irritated.
The women’s bathroom door slammed open and a couple laughing girls came stumbling out, walking towards the two of you and talking very loudly about how hot they thought Harry was. You found yourself subconsciously crossing the hall to stand in front of him, your feet toe-to-toe with his and your bodies close enough for you to feel his body heat radiate.
The girls didn’t make any moves on him, but even as they walked past you two and left the hallway you still didn’t step away. Your eyes followed them until they left, then you looked back at Harry who was still looking at you. “It’s not for me, it’s for Abbey” you went to step back away from him, but his hand darted out and pressed into your lower back, pulling you forward to keep you close to him.
“Don’t. Not yet, sweetheart” he murmured, bringing his hand up to cup your jaw and brush your hair behind your ear. He used his hand on your back to slowly spin the two of you until you were pushed against the wall, feeling very caged in against him. His hand slid from your back to your waist, keeping you in place.
Your hands landed on his chest in reflex and your heart was beating in your ears, making you gulp at how suddenly you were pressed against him. You could barely handle seeing him and now you were feeling his body. It was too much for you. “Are you sure you don’t want Will? It’s definitely for Abbey?” he asked, his hand gliding gently down your jaw until it was clasped around the side of your neck.
His tone was so cautious and serious it made your core clench. Everything about him made your core clench. The way he was acting was so possessive it made you think back to when he told you to keep your hickeys for his eyes only. There was a degree of ownership in it and it made you want to be at his mercy. You wanted him to tell you that no one could ever fuck you like he could, that only he could make you feel good… that you were his.  
You could almost hear it in your head in that damn British accent of his.
“I’m sure. I like brunettes better” you breathed, your fingertips digging into his chest gently as your back arched into his touch. This relationship was meant to be secret, yet if anyone you knew walked into this hallway, they’d know what was happening straight away.
“Good. Go grab Abbey f’me and I’ll introduce you two to Will, I’m sure he’d love to meet her” he smirked, running his thumb over the front of your neck. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut, and it felt like your body was melting into his.
All you could think about was kissing him. His face was so close to yours and he just smelt and looked so good you wanted to eat him. You had been thinking about kissing him since he neglected to give you a goodbye kiss last night when you left his house. You knew the deal of his and that you could only sleep together at your dinner so no one would get suspicious, but you were already pinned to him, and one small kiss wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
Just one kiss, that’s all you wanted.
“Okay” you nodded, feeling him drop his hand from your waist and suddenly step back to give you space to leave.
You grabbed his shirt to stop him and thought about the consequences of outright asking him to kiss you. You never in a million years would’ve done that, to him or anyone else but you were so desperate for just a little bit of intimacy in him you could’ve burst. You were also still tipsy, which seemed to have boosted your confidence majorly.
“Wait. Can you…” you gulped, pulling him closer. His brow rose and he pressed his palm to the wall beside your head.
“Can I what, darling?”
“Kiss me, please. Just one” you looked over his chest where your hand was holding onto his shirt, then back up to his eyes. “Please, just one”
Harry never went back on his word, or his plans. Once he had decided something he never changed his mind on it. He told himself and you that this could only ever happen once a week, yet it had barely been a day and he was already needy and wanting to be inside you again. And as much as he hated this power you seemed to hold over him… he just couldn’t say no to you.
He wasn’t used to you asking for things or being so brave when you weren’t having sex with him. He knew you were a bit tipsy, so that was probably why you were more confident and less flustered than usual. Harry was tipsy too but had many years to grow his tolerance compared to you, and he could hide the effects of alcohol a lot better than you could.
“Just one” he breathed, tilting his head down to kiss you. It was meant to be quick, and more of a peck than a proper kiss. But once his lips met yours, he couldn’t help but make it deeper. His hands found your waist and gripped it tight, pulling you against him and groaning into your mouth at how good it felt.
Your hand fisted his shirt as the other found home in his hair, gripping his hair to get him impossibly closer. The kiss was heated and had your body burning up quickly. A whimper fell from your mouth into his, and that was the exact moment Harry forced himself to pull away.
“Go get Abbey before I fuck you against this very wall” it wasn’t a suggestion, nor was there any leeway in his tone. You nodded quickly, your head spinning from his words, and slid out from the wall, looking back at him briefly as you walked out of the hallway and back to your table. You were completely breathless and had completely soaked through your underwear from how intense it was.
You couldn’t last a week without fucking him again, you just couldn’t. When he said something like that you just wanted to rip of your underwear and have him bend you over the closest surface.
You were shaken when you got back to the girls, but you plastered a big smile on your face and held your hand out for Abbey. The girls each had a cocktail in front of them with a fourth in your spot for you. “C’mon Abbs, let’s go get you a rich man”
“Yay!” she cheered, happily standing up and grabbing her cocktail.
“We’ll stay here and save the table” Priya smiled, “Ooh and we got you a pornstar martini! Bring it with you” she reached across the table and held the glass up to you.
“Thanks, gal” you smiled, adjusting your shoulder back before grabbing it. Abbey tucked her hand into your elbow as you both started the journey to Harry’s table. You were extremely nervous to be doing this, but Abbey seemed perfectly comfortable and excited about the idea of finding a guy to go home with.
You tried to absorb her energy and walked with confidence, keeping your head up straight. Harry was already sitting back in his spot as you approached the table, his hand wrapped tight around a beer glass and his eyes already on you. He seemed incredibly tense, but his friends were oblivious to it.
“Harry! How crazy to see you” you exclaimed when you were within ear shot of the boys. The three other faces flicked towards you at the sound of your voice, and you immediately felt a little uneasy at the amount of attention you were receiving. You hated being the centre of attention, and it just felt gross to have so many men looking at you.
“y/n! Great to see you, love” he smiled, catching the story you were laying out and going with it. “Lads, this is y/n. She dogsits Archie during the week and basically runs my house when I’m not there. Y/n, this is Michael, Ethan and Will” he pointed to each of them.
“It’s nice to meet you all. This is my friend Abbey” you smiled, looking at each guy before motioning to Abbey.
“Nice to meet you, especially you Harry. I’ve heard a lot about you” she giggled, making your eyes widen. “Always stealing my girl and ruining our plans, hell, even tonight was changed because of you” she laughed, finishing off her drink which had already basically disappeared on the walk over here. Her filter was completely gone because of how much she had to drink, and you were the one that had to feel the embarrassment.
Your face was heating up like a tomato, and you laughed nervously. “What can I say, I’m overworked” you tried to play it off, which seemed to work because a round of laughter echoed around the table, all except Harry. Michael elbowed him from beside him.
“Geeze, H. Overworking your employees even in your own house? Classic” he was joking, but Harry didn’t seem to find it funny. He let out a sarcastic laugh and took a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours for a second.
H. You didn’t even know Harry had a nickname, but H seemed to fit him perfectly. It was short and succinct, just like him. It was also so personal and soft you wondered what it would sound like falling from your lips. He had many pet names for you, yet he was always just ‘Harry’ to you.
“Here y/n, why don’t you take my seat. Abbey looks like she needs another drink and I’d love to buy it for her” Will stood and pulled his chair out for you. “If you’d like, Abbey” he spoke to her. She nodded eagerly and grabbed onto his hand, dragging him towards the bar before you could even check if she was okay going along with him.
You were glad the plan had worked, but now you were awkwardly left with Harry and his friends. You could’ve just gone back to your own table, but that felt even more awkward since Will got up for you.
You looked back at the three men and smiled nervously, making eye contact with Harry as you sat in Will’s chair, feeling very uneasy around these two strangers and Harry who didn’t seem happy at all. He was going along with your plan completely fine; acting like he didn’t just warn you about public sex, and now he had completely changed tones and seemed to be upset over something.
“So… do you guys work together?” you asked, taking a sip of your cocktail to try and ease your nerves.
“Yep, old mate here is turning the big three-nine on Wednesday, so this is a pre birthday celebration for him” Michael tapped Harry’s back in a joking way. “Last year before he’ll hit his forties and officially be old”
“Heyyy, forties are the new thirties thank you very much” Ethan scoffed, acting offended over Michael’s comment.
Your brows furrowed with confusion over the entire conversation, and you sipped more of your drink to compensate. Birthday? Harry’s birthday was this week? You had known him for years and worked closely for him for months and yet he never bothered to tell you that his birthday was coming up.
Even when you asked him about his weekend plans, he didn’t mention that these drinks were for your birthday. It shouldn’t have stung, considering you were nothing more than friends (at least that’s what you considered your relationship) who started sleeping together, but with all the things you had told him about yourself at your many many dinners, it hurt that he never shared such a basic piece of information.
Your hurt must’ve shown on your face because you could feel Harry’s foot bumping up against yours under the table to try and get your attention. You ignored it and avoided eye contact.
“Are you coming to his party? We’ve organised this whole thing on Friday night, and we told Harry to invite you” Michael asked, sipping his beer. “I think your whole street is coming, really”
Now you were even more hurt.
“I didn’t even want a party. 39 is such an unimportant age” Harry mumbled under his breath, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. While Harry was a very unreadable person, there were a few habits of his that you had picked up on. He fiddled with his rings when he was anxious or stressed or nervous, and he often did it during business calls.
He knew he had been caught out.
Harry was many things, but you never thought he’d be a dick to you. The two of you spent a lot of time together and even though things had progressed to being more intimate, he should’ve told you about the party based on your previous relationship alone. He always told you when he was having people over or had some event coming up, and his birthday was, in your opinion, one of the most important events in his life.
The fact that he didn’t tell you when it was in the first place, and now didn’t invite you to it hurt. You never would’ve expected an invite, although it would’ve been nice to be. You were more cut about not even knowing the date of it though, because it felt like something so basic yet vital in his life and he just never bothered to share it.
“Yeah, well you’re having one so suck it up” Ethan scoffed, “So are you? We weren’t sure because Harry never mentioned it.” He turned towards you, stretching his arm over the back of your chair.
“Uh, no. I’ve got plans unfortunately. I’m sure it’ll be great though” you smiled apologetically, trying to hide how uncomfortable and upset you felt. You could feel the negative heat rise in your body and build up behind your eyes, tears threatening to spill over.
You felt so stupid getting so worked up over this, but you had been drinking and got particularly emotional when you had alcohol in you. Still though, you didn’t want to throw him under the bus and tell his friends that you didn’t even know it was his birthday. Just because you thought he was a dick, didn’t mean they had to too.
He may have just forgotten about mentioning it to you, but you doubted it was the case.
“That’s too bad, it’ll be a really good night. If your plans change, feel free to hop next door” Ethan laughed, finding his joke extremely amusing. It was clear Harry had spoken about you before since Ethan knew you lived next door. You wondered what else he had said about you, but the thought was only brief because you were too focused on keeping yourself together.
“Yeah, I’ll try” you smiled, deciding that it was time you left. He was sitting right opposite you and you just couldn’t bare looking at him anymore. “Well, it was really nice meeting you all, but my other friends are still at the table, and I should get back to them”
You stood up and slid the strap of your bag over your shoulder, picking up your cocktail glass as well.
“It was really nice meeting you y/n, have a good night” Michael smiled.
“Yeah, get home safe” Ethan piped up, raising his glass to you.
“You too, guys” you smiled. Your eyes met Harry’s briefly, but you didn’t bother saying anything before you spun around and walked away. You heard the screech of a chair being pushed back and a small ‘wait, y/n’. You kept walking until you felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm, pulling to to stop.
“Y/n.” he said in an almost warning tone that had you scoffing.
“Yes?” your head snapped back to him.
Harry wasn’t expecting you to reply like that, and it was clear by the way his eyes widened in surprise. “Look, I know you’re upset about the party, but it honestly just slipped my mind. I didn’t want a stupid birthday party in the first place, but they just started organising it anyway. I’ve been so busy with work I forgot all about it until they brought it up… I want you to come, though, if you’re free.”
His hand was still on your arm, so you shrugged it off you. “I’m not upset that I wasn’t invited to your birthday party Harry, I’m upset that you didn’t even have the curtesy to tell me it was your birthday in the first place” He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again, not really knowing what to say. “Have a good night, Harry”
You turned back around and kept walking to your table, sliding into your chair once you made it. You put your bag on the table before sculling your entire drink, tipping your head back to get every drop.
The rest of the night was a blur. You remember ordering a couple more cocktails before being dragged to a club. After that the night was hazy and you woke up Sunday afternoon with a raging hangover.
Once you had sufficiently sobered up after a McDonald’s meal and iced coffee, you returned home wanting to sleep. You looked and felt disgusting, and just wanted to shower then go to bed. You knew your parents would make fun of you for being so hungover, so you yelled a ‘I’m home’ then tried to sneak upstairs without them seeing the state you were in.
“Come here, baby!” your mum yelled, making you let out an audible groan. You dropped your bags at the bottom of the stairs before sluggishly stomping your way in. It didn’t register that she was in the sitting room and not your main living room until you walked in there.
“Do not make fun of me or I will seriously-Harry?” you stopped in the doorway, mouth gaping at Harry sitting on your sofa having a cup of coffee with your mum.
Your mum had the audacity to make him coffee and take him to sit in the formal lounge to seem more formal or put together. The idea was laughable since your mum was one of the craziest people you had ever known.
You could smell BBQ, so you knew your dad was outside cooking dinner already. Your parents were probably having some of the neighbours over for dinner, which was a regular occurrence in your family, especially on a Sunday.
Everyone was hungover Sunday mornings, including your rich yoga mum neighbours so there was always a greasy afternoon BBQ happening somewhere in your street to soak up all the alcohol from the night before. More drinking would occur, of course, but at the very least people wouldn’t be violently hungover.
Your head was still pulsing, and the sight of Harry on your couch had it twisting up further. You looked utterly disgusting, and even though you knew he was drinking last night he looked fresh as a daisy. He was dressed casually and looked way too comfortable sitting on your couch.
“Afternoon love, get home last night alright?” he asked, so fucking casual like he didn’t just make you hate him last night.
He went from warning you about fucking you in public to pity inviting you to his birthday party after he forgot to tell you about his birthday in the first place. He was honestly more confusing than your ex-boyfriend and he asked you to be his girlfriend then dumped you the same day because he ‘wasn’t ready’. You were 15 so boys were at their stupidest then.
The hurt you felt had subsided a little by now, but seeing Harry look so smug and gorgeous was riling you up again. In more ways than one.
“I heard all about you two running into each other, how lucky, huh? It definitely makes me feel better letting her go out when she’s got you around to look out for her, like a guardian angel” your mum giggled, placing her hand on his bicep and giving him those flirty eyes of hers.
“God mum, what is wrong with you? I’m 22” you rolled your eyes, knowing she was just putting on a show because Harry was here. You resisted the urge to gag just watching her interact with him. If she wasn’t so in love with your dad, she 100% would’ve tried to have sex with him by now.
“Oh shush, baby. You know mum’s never stop worrying” she tutted, standing up and giving you a tight squeeze. “I’ll leave you two to talk, but I’ll be right back so don’t go spilling secrets without me” she pointed to Harry and gave him a ‘I’m watching you look.
“Never” he laughed, sipping his coffee, and leaning further back into the couch.
The way he looked so comfortable, legs spread and back relaxed in the couch made you want to scream. You wanted to fuck him and slap him at the same time.
“Your mum is very kind, much different from everyone else in the street” he commented, looking you up and down over the rim of his coffee cup.
“That’s because she isn’t trying to fuck you” you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the doorway, looking right into his eyes. He let out a laugh and shook his head, placing his cup on the coffee table.
“Jesus Christ, I really fucked up, didn’t I?” he asked, more to himself than you.
You were never mouthy, and you very rarely spoke your mind unless he prompted you to. He had been trying and trying for weeks to get you out of your shell and found that you only spoke confidently when you two were having sex. Sex made you alive and brought out another side of you and he had been dying to get that side of you all the time.
Now he had discovered another way to get you to open up, and he couldn’t help but feel triumphant about it. It was so wrong of him to not tell you about his birthday, and he acknowledged that and regretted that he hurt you. You were such a daily in his life that he had already mentally put you at his birthday party. He probably would’ve drunk himself to death at his party if you weren’t there to keep him company.
Truthfully, he just assumed you knew when his birthday was. The party was a major oversight of his, but his actual birthday was something he thought he had told you. Maybe it was because he just automatically placed you there that he just forgot, but he really did feel like an asshole because of it.
His friends had invited basically the entire neighbourhood to the party, wanting it to be a big hoorah and to party like a 20-year-old before he turned 40. Harry had no qualms about his age, in fact he liked being older and aging. With age comes maturity and power, and every year he gets older he’s one more year further into his career and getting richer and richer because of it. Will and Ethan however, seemed to be clutching onto their youth like they thought they’d die without snorting cocaine and getting drunk like someone in their early 20s.
His birthday wasn’t a special event to him, yet for the first time in a long time he wanted to spend it with someone. It wasn’t romantic in the slightest, it was purely because he enjoyed speaking to you and obsessively loved fucking you. He had even mentally chosen Wednesday to ask you over for dinner so he could spend his entire night in bed with you.
Now he had gone and fucked it up, and yeah part of him was upset about it. But the other part found it so goddamn sexy that you were angry at him and speaking your mind that he could barely find it in himself to apologise. If anything, he wanted to rile you up even more so you’d say something even mouthier so he could punish you for it. Was that toxic? Yes. But Harry didn’t care.
He did want you at his birthday though, so at the very least he had to make you less mad and agreeable.  
“Come sit with me” he patted the spot on his right, giving you a look that said, ‘do not say no’.
Even though you were upset with him, Harry was and always will be an intimidating guy. Just his stare alone had your knees buckling and heat spreading across your chest. You inhaled a deep breath and walked towards him, taking a subtle look behind your shoulder to see if your mum was nearby.
You heard the back door open before, so you assumed she had gone outside. Still, you were worried that she’d see you sitting too close to Harry and would assume something was happening between the two of you. You sat down beside him, keeping at least a metre between you so you wouldn’t get too close.
“Darling, I said sit with me not five metres away from me” he tutted, grabbing your thigh, and dragging you closer to him. You let out a little yelp and grabbed his wrist, your shoulder bumping into his. “Tha’s better”
“You are like a man child, Harry” you groaned, picking up his hand that was still on your bare thigh and putting it on his own leg. He chuckled again, making you let out a huff of frustration. “Stop laughing at me! You wanted me to talk and ‘get out of my shell’ and now you’re just fucking laughing at everything I say. God, why are you even here?” you asked, beyond frustrated at him.
Maybe it was sexual frustration, or just frustration in general but your skin felt like it was crawling. Being close to Harry lit you up inside and even though you were annoyed at him, your want to fuck him was a lot stronger. Couldn’t he be ugly so being annoyed at him was easier?
“I’m here to apologise and sort this out so you’ll be at my birthday”
Harry didn’t procrastinate or beat around the bush. When he wanted something, he got it, and he wanted you at his birthday party. He knew you weren’t materialistic, but he would’ve bought you whatever expensive purse you wanted if it would get you there.
“Why would you want me at your birthday when you didn’t bother telling me when it was in the first place? It’s a bit contradictory” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.
You shifted your body so you were angled towards him, your leg bent and tucked under the other like you were half cross-legged with the other dangling off the couch. You just couldn’t touch him if you were going to talk, and you couldn’t look at him either otherwise you knew you’d never get the words out. Your heart was beating in your ears, and when your eyes finally met his it felt like your body had goosebumps all over.
“Look…” he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, “I honestly thought you already knew when my birthday was and that it came up in conversation at some point…” it felt like the air was shifting as his words dropped lower and his eyes met yours in that signature ‘I’m going to tuck you’ look of his. “Clearly, I was wrong and I apologise” his hand came out and grabbed your ankle that was tucked under your other knee, pulling your leg straight and dragging it over his lap. You could feel desire swirling in your stomach; it had been since you saw him looking like a king on your couch.
Harry had a way with words, but he sucked at apologies. He was better at apologising with gifts or gestures and well… what better apology than making someone come. He was going against everything he had told himself and put in place in terms of your once-a-week arrangement. But he had already kissed you last night and a quick fingering session when he had a purpose to be at your house wasn’t going to cause alarm.
The only reason he restricted himself was to protect your reputation.
You let out a small gasp and put your hands out behind you on the couch to steady yourself. “Harry…” you breathed, your thighs tensing as his palm flattened on the inside of your calf, gently gliding up to your knee.
“Come to m’party. I want you there” he murmured; his eyes focused on his hand as it moved further up to your inner thigh.
You clamped your legs together, trapping his hand between them so it couldn’t move further up. You were already wet, and you could feel it soak your underwear, but that didn’t mean it was a good idea to do this. His eyes flickered up to you, a smirk playing on his lips. He cocked his head in an almost challenging way, telling you without any words to open your legs and let him touch you.
You were in two minds about it.
Half of you wanted to keep your little grudge going and not give in, and the other really wanted to be fingered. He had apologised and it seemed like a genuine excuse for not telling you. Part of you was still a bit unsure about it, but you also knew that a lot of the conversations you and Harry had included him asking a lot about you and not the other way around. You both talked equally, but you were always a bit distant from asking him anything too personal unless he shared it himself. His birthday isn’t really a secret, but it could’ve been missed.
Harry was on a whole other level to you, in life and in knowledge and experience. By how much your mum hates her birthday because she hates aging, it makes sense for Harry to not find it particularly exciting either. After 21 when you’re legal everywhere, being older doesn’t unlock anything extra for you. By the way Harry described it, and from last night too, he didn’t even want a birthday party.
So, you kept quiet and relaxed your thighs, letting the one not in Harry’s hand drop back down and dangle off the couch. “Atta girl” he grinned, sliding his hand further up until it was at the bottom of your loose cotton shorts. They were your pyjamas from last night that you didn’t bother to get changed out of when you drove home.
“Harry… my parents” you whispered, your breathing going heavy as his fingertips fiddled with the hem of your shorts, dipping underneath to reach the crease where your thigh met your pussy.
“I know, just relax. It’ll be quick, darling” he assured you, using his spare hand to cup the side of your face.
He looked over your shoulder briefly to check that the coast was clear before he pulled your face and met you halfway to kiss you. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and traced along your slit, making you sigh against his mouth. He pushed so his fingertips were between your labia and spread your arousal up to your clit.
He slid his fingers down again and slid one digit into you with easy, meeting your clit with his thumb to stimulate there. A small whimper left your mouth as he curled his finger into you, finding your g-spot with ease. Your hand came up to cup his face in return, moving upwards to grab onto the hair on the side of his head.
“Wh-what happened to only once a week” you whimpered, the kiss breaking so he could kiss along your jaw. Your eyes fluttered shut, completely emersed in the pleasure. Harry kept checking over your shoulder at the doorway, listening out for any sounds of either one of your parents coming back into the house. He had a few more minutes at best before your mum came in, so he really did have to be quick.
Harry hadn’t been in a position like this since he was in his 20’s himself and it felt oddly exhilarating trying not to be caught like some teenager. He had been in positions similar more recently in his life; quickies in cars or public play in exclusive clubs, but nothing like the possibility of being caught by his partner’s parents.
“I can’t help myself when it comes to you, darling. Seeing you last night in that fucking dress of yours was torture” he groaned softly, nipping at your jaw before kissing your lips again. It was harder this time, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and his tongue fighting to enter your mouth.
He upped your pleasure by slipping another finger into you, trying to hold back a groan at how snug you were even just with two fingers. You were so wet around him, and it was loud when he thrusted his fingers too fast, so he settled with doing a ‘come here’ motion right into your g-spot while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his thumb. The motion had you gasping and your thighs spasming on their own, the pleasure increasing the more your body adjusted to his fingers and touch.
“Come to my birthday” he demanded, pressing his thumb harder to your clit. You still hadn’t given him a proper response yet and he was slowly growing impatient.
“It feels like you’re using this to manipulate me into coming” you opened your eyes to look at him, your chest rising and falling heavily as your breathing grew into pants. Your hips bucked up to meet his fingers.
“‘M not, I’m apologising” he tutted. His hand moved to wrap around your neck, squeezing the sides as he pressed a hard kiss to your mouth.“Come. To. My. Birthday” he said slower, timing his fingering with each word.
His fingers were soaked in your arousal, and he could feel it drip down to coat the palm of his hand. He fucking loved it and he’d cover his entire body in it if he could. There was just something about your scent and your taste that drove him absolutely wild. Even just fingering you was making his cock harden in his pants.
Your mouth parted against his, breathing heavier and heavier to try and keep noise to the absolute minimum. Your wetness was barely audible in the room, and the kissing was a lot louder. Your mum clearly didn’t think anything was happening between you two because she left you alone with Harry without any worries. Any other guy and she’d be hovering to make sure you didn’t have sex on her couch.
“Okay, okay… fuck I’ll go” you replied. Your high was fast approaching and you could feel it building up in your clit and stomach, your muscles tightening and thighs tensing around Harry’s hand. “Harry”
“I know… always so good for me sweetheart. Let me see how you come. Always so fucking gorgeous when you fall apart for me” he coaxed, pulling your face back to kiss you, knowing how loud you could be when you came. The way Harry already knew your signs of when you were about to orgasm before you even told him said a lot about how observant he was.
His gentle tone and dirty words tipped you over the edge, your head lulling back as your orgasm waved over you in hot pulses. He followed you and leaned forward so his mouth stayed captured with yours even as your head tipped back. He captured every little sound that you made and carried you through your orgasm by rubbing against your g spot and clit in circles.
You pushed his hand away when it got too much and he pulled away immediately, breaking the kiss so he could keep eye contact with you as he sucked his fingers clean. The sight was so erotic you just stared at him gaping, watching as he licked up every bit of his fingers and your juices that had dripped down his palm. “Open” he brought his thumb to your mouth, watching it open instantly and welcome his digit in.
You sucked his thumb clean, swirling your tongue around the tip and making eye contact with him the entire time. His eyes were so dark and blown you could nearly see your reflection in it, and you wished you had enough time to pleasure him back. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. The two of you quickly adjusted and sat apart on the couch, running your fingers through your hair to try and appear like nothing had happened.
“Has Harry told you about his party, y/n?” your mum asked, walking through the door with some lamingtons on a plate.
You sat up straighter, hoping she couldn’t smell the scent of sex lingering in the air. Harry appeared as casual as ever, his arm stretched around the back of the couch and his coffee cup back in his hand like he didn’t just have it inside you.
“Uhm, yep” you replied nervously, heat flushing across your chest and face. You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, and it was making you feel all jittery.
“Great! It’ll be such a great night, so nice of you to invite most of the street too” she smiled, holding the plate of lamingtons out to Harry. “Lamington?”
“No thank you, love. I really should be going anyway” Harry flashed that charming smile of his and stood up. “I’ll bring this to the kitchen” he wiggled his empty cup in his hand.
“Oh no, don’t do that! Y/n will do it for you, walk him out as well won’t you baby” she replied, looking at you with a look you couldn’t argue with. You nodded and stood up, adjusting your shorts to try and distract from the slight shake in your legs. “Join us for dinner next time, won’t you Harry?” she asked him as you both approached the doorway.
“I’ll see if my schedule allows it, but that sounds wonderful” he winked, placing his hand on your lower back to guide you out of the room into the hallway. You wanted to glare at him for winking at your mum like that and calling her ‘love’, but you tried your best to hide your distain. It clearly didn’t work though. “Don’t pout” Harry whispered against your ear, pressing into your back harder.
“I wasn’t” you replied, grabbing his mug from him, and walking with him to the front door.
“You so were… don’t worry though, it’s adorable” his lips brushed against your ear and his hand slid around to your waist to squeeze it. A shudder ran through your body which you tried to ignore when you got to the front door and opened it, holding it for him. He stood in the doorway and looked down at you, his gaze burning your body like usual. “Keep Wednesday free, we’re having dinner.”
Harry hadn’t pre-planned a dinner since you started your weekly tradition, so you were surprised that he was doing it this time. You didn’t really understand why he wanted to spend his actual birthday with you, you thought he’d have friends or maybe family come and spend time with him.
“But it’s your birthday” you replied, brows furrowed in confusion. His brow rose and he reached out to smooth the crease in your forehead with his thumb.
“I know” he smiled softly and tipped your chin up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, love” 
You were stunned to be honest, so you just nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Bye Harry”
Harry walked away from that conversation feeling utterly satisfied in himself. He had gotten exactly what he wanted and now had a birthday he was actually looking forward to. And boy, did he have plans… both for the dinner and his party.
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Not-So-Secret Drawings
REQUEST: Hi there, so I've been daydreaming about this for awhile but I absolutely suck at writing so, could i request hcs were the reader is really good at drawing and has been secretly drawing random people on campus whenever they get the chance, but one day reader forgets there sketch pad somewhere and a character (of your choosing) finds it and decides to snoop and finds drawingsof them and people on campus. Just as they finish looking through reader comes (after realizing they forgot it). I hope this makes sense to you, have a nice day/night.
SUMMARY: Your carefully hidden secret is out now. WORD COUNT: 1k
WARNINGS: Riddle, Azul, Floyd, and Vil snooping looking through your drawings, reader is a really good artist, Riddle threatens you (out of love I swear), Azul is uncomfortable by your drawings (not in a bad way- I think), mentions of getting lectured by Azul, Floyd is a ball of chaos, Vil gets no warnings because he's perfect/j A/N: When I tell you that as soon as I saw this I immediately rushed to write two parts before having to stop because I needed to do my summer homework - and then procrastinated the last part (Vil)- Also I know you implied one character but since I'm indecisive I did multiple haha (I'm sorry (but also kind of not because this was fun)) I'm sure you don't suck at writing!! You just get sick of your own writing because it all seems predictable (speaking from experience, I read my work and I'm like "ew?? I need better words" haha) Vil's part is definitely weird because I was like "Fashion Designer!Reader" (probably because some of my friends take fashion/design classes) and I don't know how accurate this is I suck at drawing so I know nothing please don't come at me- Also on a side note, I have a lot of requests right now and since I have a lot of schoolwork I have to do right now, my writing will probably be scattered. Hope you guys understand! (Hope you have a nice day/afternoon/night/etc too!!)
© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.
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You had always been careful with your drawings. You never wanted another person to look at them. After all, you had been drawing other people - and who knew what they would think?
Sure, they were pretty accurate, but still. It wasn't like the people at Night Raven College knew that you were drawing them. And you didn't want your drawings to get destroyed just because someone in a foul mood found them. Just your luck though, as you had left your sketchbook somewhere. Where did you even misplace it…
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Riddle Rosehearts
He had always seen you with your sketchbook, but had assumed it was just for studying.
Likewise, when it popped up during class, he assumed that you were diligently taking notes.
It was almost sad seeing how far from the truth he was in hindsight.
Since he found your sketchbook on the floor (perhaps having fallen from your bag - it was always full, after all), he decided to take it to you. On the way over to Ramshackle Dorm, he flipped through the sketchbook before he paused.
These weren't notes. They were drawings.
And very good ones, at that.
They were so detailed, he thought for an instant that you had magicked them on here somehow (before remembering that you didn't have any magic).
So was this what you could do with some time and diligence?
His mother had never let him draw much so his drawings were mediocore at best (at worst, one would think that a small child had drawn them).
He found himself captivated by the artwork, flipping through the pages, seeing the drawings of various people from the school. Even some of himself…? With more details... It was odd, the small flutter in his chest. Happiness?
He jolted as he heard your voice, asking if that sketchbook in his hands was yours, abruptly slamming the sketchbook shut as if he had been looking at something completely inappropriate. Which, in a way, he might have been?
"Sorry for looking at these without your permission." He got out after a moment, handing it back to you. "You're a really good artist." He paused. "But you shouldn't be drawing in class. If I catch you with this sketchbook out during Trein-sensei's lectures, I'll have your head!"
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Azul Ashengrotto
Of course Azul had noticed your drawings. He needed to in order to make sure he knew as much as possible about others so he could scam help them whenever they needed it.
Still, he found it intriguing, so he couldn't help but skim through your drawings. And my, were they amazing.
Until he got to the section where you had drawn him.
Sure, there were drawings of him in regular uniform, some of him in his P.E. uniform (he thought that they weren't really flattering on him, but you made it look good).
But then there were the sections where you had drawn him in mer form.
Of course, you had no idea what his mer form actually looked like (without all the overblotting, which you never got the chance to see clearly anyway) so it was mostly guesswork and using your imagination.
There were ones with long, large tentacles swarming around him.
Some with tentacles that were slender.
Some of them popped out of weird angles, which he was puzzled about, but okay.
My tentacles can't move like that - or can they?
They definitely shouldn't be popping out of his ribs. Wherever did you get that particular idea? It made him uncomfortable just by looking at it.
He was so caught up in examining your drawings and he didn't notice you until you literally snatched the sketchbook from his hands, saying something about how they were private.
"Sorry, [Y/N]-san... But these drawings aren't too accurate, you know."
And that was how you got roped into a three-hour long discussion about the anatomy of octopuses as well as the anatomy of merfolk and how your drawings were terribly inaccurate. (You were just guessing, how were you supposed to know any of this?)
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Floyd Leech
Floyd wouldn't even wait until the sketchbook was unattended.
He'd pop out of nowhere, eyes bright, asking what you were doing.
Never mind if it was in the middle of class or not.
You've both gotten scolded about this, he should know better.
Still, one day he caught you by surprise, and the book slipped from your hands.
You muttered a small curse before trying to grab it, but whoops, too late. Floyd had already gotten it and was flipping through the pages.
"Aww, Koebi-chan, you drew me?" His gaze met yours, a wide grin on his face (showing his extremely sharp teeth). "You should've just asked, I would've modeled and stuff for you."
You shook your head slightly. You had wanted to keep this a secret if possible... At least Floyd seemed to be in a fairly good mood. You told him that you wanted to draw people in their natural state, without them posing for the "camera," so to speak.
He looked disappointed, but then immediately asked if you could come to a basketball practice or match or something. Perhaps you'd find it more interesting to draw him there. Or maybe in the ocean?
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Vil Schoenheit
He was no stranger to people drawing him. He was famous after all.
He did sometimes get… odd pieces of artwork, but that was to be expected.
Still, he didn't expect to find a sketchbook with him in it, abandoned at an empty seat. Only drawings of him.
It had so happened that you were trying to figure out a good design for clothing. You always wanted to have a face to your designs, and he was the perfect subject.
Maybe your drawings didn't do him justice, but it was interesting to see how you could tweak your designs to fit him better.
Still, Vil was plenty impressed.
These designs... He could definitely see himself wearing them.
Maybe he could show them to one of the people he knew... They could help make something like that. With your permission, of course.
He closed the book as he heard you come up.
"These designs really are fascinating. Would you mind showing me more details? I'm certain that we can turn these drawings into reality if you'd like it."
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sunnylovespickles · 8 months
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Come Undone
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C. Soobin x Reader
► Genre | smut, gender neutral reader!
► Summary | Soobin's been stressed lately, you notice it for the past weeks. Even when you guys go shopping, as a normal date, he seems so off.
► Warnings | handjob(basically the whole smut), a super sensitive soobin, sub!soobin, dirty talk, praise, public sex, size kink, slight body worshipp, language, mentions of sexual frustration, etc.
► Word Count | 3.2k
► Sun’s Notes | wrote this because I'm currently trying to write for txt more after I just released hella svt content. back in my moa era. and the fact I spent LONG on this for no reason, and I'm procrastinating on hyuka's bday post is BEYOND me. that'll be coming soon dw.
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"Baby, don't you think these are so cute?" You smiled cheerily holding up matching pink shirts, with a cute little message.
"Mmm," is all he responded while staring down at his phone, he didn't even bother to glance up at you. This is odd, to say the least, the shirt was definitely to Soobin's liking and he didn't even peek. What's even more odd is he's being a major asshole, looking down at his phone.
You had brought him to this store because you know how much he loves spending hundreds on cheesy collectables. And he's not even looking at you?
"Okay, fine, act like that Choi Soobin," yes you were mad. You had every right to be, you've been trying to cheer him up for so long. There's only so much you can take before you get fed up with his stubbornness. Soobin's not the type to spill out his feelings, it takes so much constant trying to get him to crack. But even then what more can you do as his partner? You've done everything.
Soobin's head jerks up in surprise, his eyes widening as he scrambles to put their phone away, because why the actual hell were you using his full name? He watched as you turned away aiming towards the dressing room, his mouth opening and closing. He wanted to say something, but he was just so taken aback by your sudden anger.
You're quick, your steps never slowing, and just as your hand reaches for the handle of one of the dressing room doors, Soobin catches up to you, his fingers wrapping around your tiny wrist with an tight grip. "I'm sorry – please don't be like that," Soobin blurts out, breathless.
You scoff, glancing down at the ground momentarily, the wooden floors was better to look at then him right now. Your eyes catch the subtle gazes of one or two curious people, and irritation blooms within you. Without a second thought, you seize Soobin's hand in yours, a silent command to just 'follow your lead.'
The door swings shut behind you both, Soobin starts to apologize again, words tumbling out in a rush. You just stare blankly as he continues to make up pointless excuses, that you didn't care about.
"Babe, just stop talking," you interject, your voice firm but not unkind. You've heard enough; its boring you. “I-I’m sorry it’s just-,” he continued, ignoring your plead to stop rambling.
“Soobin, please, you’re going on and on it’s pointless. Just tell me what the hell is up with you lately.”
“You haven’t been touching me!”
Uh oh.
Soobin stared at you, eyes wide almost as if you said it. His random raised volume took you by surprise, but not as much as what he said. You haven’t been touching him? Seriously, this is the problem? Soobin kind of hung his head when you didn’t respond just a bit, sad, although you weren’t made just utterly and wholly shocked.
His cute little rosy cheeks and his black hair covering his eyes slightly. His hair wasn’t enough to cover how flustered he was though.
“And you’re just now telling me this,” you responded finally, to what seemed to him like a whole ass decade. He just nodded not using his words, and still not looking at you.
“Soobin, raise your head and tell me what you want.” His theatrics were cute for a little while, but he’s going to have to use his words to get anything out of you.
Soobin slowly but surely raised up his head, his eyes barely open and still those cheeks rosy red. His nervously scratched the back of his head, eyeing you to see if you were upset, but you weren’t.
“I…want you to touch me,” his voice was low and awkward, almost as if you guys never spent multiple intimate moments together. This time he was acting as if you were a stranger, like a one night stand. Like he was confessing his love for the first time.
He was fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt, clearly flustered.
“I’m sorry if I’m making you feel uncomfortable,” he said, his voice timid. “It’s just… I’m feeling really sexually frustrated and I was scared to talk to you about it. I don’t want you to think I’m always like this.”
It hasn't been long since you've started taking control in the bedroom, and ever since then Soobin has been more reserved on these topic. You thought maybe it was because you weren't doing something right. But no, you're doing everything right and he misses it so damn much. He was so adorable and you couldn’t help but smile.
You closed the gap between you two, and pushed Soobin against the wall. He looked down at you, with eyes that were filled with the fact he was so ready for you, and also the fact you sort of intimated him.
You cupped his chin with your hands and whispered, “You are so cute, Soobin” before you crashed your soft lips against his own.
You wrapped one hand around Soobin’s neck, pressing your lips into him as if you guys weren't close enough. His hands wandered to your waist, tugging your shirt up as he moaned pretty soft sounds into your mouth.
Breaking away slightly, you tugged gently at his shirt, urging him to lift it up. He obliged and you dropped your lips to his chest, hearing him let out a slight gasp as your lips grazed over his warm pale skin.
If you said every inch of Soobin didn't taste good you'd be lying. Out of the partners you've had no one even comes close to being as delicate and sweet as your Soobin.
Your hand then trailed up his stomach, finding his abs and tracing them with your fingers. After a few moments you pulled away completely, breaking the trance you had on him.
You looked around and smiled when you noticed a bench. “Thank the heavens there’s a bench in here,” you said, turning back to Soobin. “Sit.”
Soobin obliged, taking a seat on the bench and positioning himself comfortably and leaning back a little with his legs spread, giving you suggestive look. You licked your lips as you took in his image, his man spread so gorgeous. He looked so submissive.
You followed his lead and sat beside him, turning to face him.
“Whatever I do, don’t be too loud alright? Can you do that for me?” you asked, genuinely worried about the sound. Soobin nodded in response, not satisfactory for you.
"Words, baby."
"I'll be quiet."
"Here, bite on this," you lifted his shirt up even more so the black fabric was covering his chin. You motioned for him to take it into his mouth, so his whole torso was exposed to you and you could see his endearing eyes. Those sweet, so sweet eyes that you couldn't wait for them to be glued shut when he came.
"Baby, don't you think these are so cute?" You smiled cheerily holding up matching pink shirts, with a cute little message.
"Mmm," is all he responded while staring down at his phone, he didn't even bother to glance up at you. This is odd, to say the least, the shirt was definitely to Soobin's liking and he didn't even peek. What's even more odd is he's being a major asshole, looking down at his phone.
You had brought him to this store because you know how much he loves spending hundreds on cheesy collectables. And he's not even looking at you?
"Okay, fine, act like that Choi Soobin," yes you were mad. You had every right to be, you've been trying to cheer him up for so long. There's only so much you can take before you get fed up with his stubbornness. Soobin's not the type to spill out his feelings, it takes so much constant trying to get him to crack. But even then what more can you do as his partner? You've done everything.
Keep reading
Soobin's head jerks up in surprise, his eyes widening as he scrambles to put their phone away, because why the actual hell were you using his full name? He watched as you turned away aiming towards the dressing room, his mouth opening and closing. He wanted to say something, but he was just so taken aback by your sudden anger.
You're quick, your steps never slowing, and just as your hand reaches for the handle of one of the dressing room doors, Soobin catches up to you, his fingers wrapping around your tiny wrist with an tight grip. "I'm sorry – please don't be like that," Soobin blurts out, breathless.
You scoff, glancing down at the ground momentarily, the wooden floors was better to look at then him right now. Your eyes catch the subtle gazes of one or two curious people, and irritation blooms within you. Without a second thought, you seize Soobin's hand in yours, a silent command to just 'follow your lead.'
The door swings shut behind you both, Soobin starts to apologize again, words tumbling out in a rush. You just stare blankly as he continues to make up pointless excuses, that you didn't care about.
"Babe, just stop talking," you interject, your voice firm but not unkind. You've heard enough; its boring you. “I-I’m sorry it’s just-,” he continued, ignoring your plead to stop rambling.
“Soobin, please, you’re going on and on it’s pointless. Just tell me what the hell is up with you lately.”
“You haven’t been touching me!”
Uh oh.
Soobin stared at you, eyes wide almost as if you said it. His random raised volume took you by surprise, but not as much as what he said. You haven’t been touching him? Seriously, this is the problem? Soobin kind of hung his head when you didn’t respond just a bit, sad, although you weren’t made just utterly and wholly shocked.
His cute little rosy cheeks and his black hair covering his eyes slightly. His hair wasn’t enough to cover how flustered he was though.
“And you’re just now telling me this,” you responded finally, to what seemed to him like a whole ass decade. He just nodded not using his words, and still not looking at you.
“Soobin, raise your head and tell me what you want.” His theatrics were cute for a little while, but he’s going to have to use his words to get anything out of you.
Soobin slowly but surely raised up his head, his eyes barely open and still those cheeks rosy red. His nervously scratched the back of his head, eyeing you to see if you were upset, but you weren’t.
“I…want you to touch me,” his voice was low and awkward, almost as if you guys never spent multiple intimate moments together. This time he was acting as if you were a stranger, like a one night stand. Like he was confessing his love for the first time.
He was fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt, clearly flustered.
“I’m sorry if I’m making you feel uncomfortable,” he said, his voice timid. “It’s just… I’m feeling really sexually frustrated and I was scared to talk to you about it. I don’t want you to think I’m always like this.”
It hasn't been long since you've started taking control in the bedroom, and ever since then Soobin has been more reserved on these topic. You thought maybe it was because you weren't doing something right. But no, you're doing everything right and he misses it so damn much. He was so adorable and you couldn’t help but smile.
You closed the gap between you two, and pushed Soobin against the wall. He looked down at you, with eyes that were filled with the fact he was so ready for you, and also the fact you sort of intimated him.
You cupped his chin with your hands and whispered, “You are so cute, Soobin” before you crashed your soft lips against his own.
You wrapped one hand around Soobin’s neck, pressing your lips into him as if you guys weren't close enough. His hands wandered to your waist, tugging your shirt up as he moaned pretty soft sounds into your mouth.
Breaking away slightly, you tugged gently at his shirt, urging him to lift it up. He obliged and you dropped your lips to his chest, hearing him let out a slight gasp as your lips grazed over his warm pale skin.
If you said every inch of Soobin didn't taste good you'd be lying. Out of the partners you've had no one even comes close to being as delicate and sweet as your Soobin.
Your hand then trailed up his stomach, finding his abs and tracing them with your fingers. After a few moments you pulled away completely, breaking the trance you had on him.
You looked around and smiled when you noticed a bench. “Thank the heavens there’s a bench in here,” you said, turning back to Soobin. “Sit.”
Soobin obliged, taking a seat on the bench and positioning himself comfortably and leaning back a little with his legs spread, giving you suggestive look. You licked your lips as you took in his image, his man spread so gorgeous. He looked so submissive.
You followed his lead and sat beside him, turning to face him.
“Whatever I do, don’t be too loud alright? Can you do that for me?” you asked, genuinely worried about the sound. Soobin nodded in response, not satisfactory for you.
"Words, baby."
"I'll be quiet."
"Here, bite on this," you lifted his shirt up even more so the black fabric was covering his chin. You motioned for him to take it into his mouth, so his whole torso was exposed to you and you could see his endearing eyes. Those sweet, so sweet eyes that you couldn't wait for them to be glued shut when he came.
You gently run your cool fingertips over his exposed abs in slow circles. His soft skin feels like velvet under your touch, and his body tenses. HIs abs are like stone, so defined and hard.
You slowly move your hand lower, trailing your fingertips down his stomach until you reach his shorts. You feel the bulge in his shorts and give it a teasing squeeze.
"Already so hard for me?" You whisper seductively in his ear, enjoying the way his body shakes in response.
You lean in even closer, so that your lips brush against his ear. "I bet you wish you could just scream out for me to touch it," you whisper. His breath catches in his throat and he looks up at you, his brown eyes wide.
His heavy breathing stuttered and he whimpered into the lifted shirt that you had placed in his mouth. He was already drooling endlessly over you. You let out a low villainy-like giggle as you squeeze and tease at his bulge. Soobin whimpers a bit louder, spreading his legs wider as if asking for more. You immediately shush him, whispering into his ear, “Shh, you don’t want people to hear you being so desperate, Soobin.” His face instantly turns a deep shade of rosy red, as he immediately shuts up.
You take advantage of this opportunity, slipping your hand into his shorts under his underwear. You wrap your hand around Soobin’s length and pull it out only to where his tip and a bit of skin was exposed. You feel it throbbing in your hand, and the precum is leaking around his tip. It made it glisten, the slick was mesmerizing to look at.
You took your free hand to spit into it, returning it to run down along his tip.  Your grip was strong with the gauze of spit smoothing it along. As soon as your technique found its perfect speed, his breathing followed a sharp up rise, Soobin's eyes rolling back to take in the bliss of the moment. His moans began to travel softly through your eardrums as he pushed deeper and deeper into your hand, his hips grinding into the wet palm.
You leaned in close, continuing to kiss and taunt as you worked him up with your mouth, your tongue darting out to lick his neck. Your hands teasingly entwining with the fabric of his collar. "I love you, you're so damn sexy," you said against his skin.
He liked it you knew he did, there was nothing more that Soobin liked than being praised. He loved how you would compliment his looks, his voice, his body. He loved all of it, to him compliments felt like a gift, a gift wrapped in pretty lace.
You feel Soobin's hand clasping yours tightly, his breathing growing shallow. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open and his hands squeezing yours enough to be almost painful, as if he's trying to keep himself in check.
Your free hand moves up to his mouth, pressing your palm against it as the fabric of his shirt slides down. His groan is almost deafening in the silence of the room but you don't mind; it sounds almost primal, like you are unlocking something inside of him and it is exhilarating.
Who cares if someone hears, give them a show.
His hot breath is tickling your fingers as his mouth is open and still moaning frantically.
"I want you to cum all over your stomach, I know how much you love to see me touching you again. So prove it," you say. His hand lays over yours and then he guides his hand down to your wrist, squeezing the skin. His voice is hoarse and quiet as he speaks in between moans.
He calls you all sorts of nicknames; from 'Bear'(a nickname he has for you) to 'Baby'. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and you're making him a mess. You start to go faster and faster, pushing and pulling with your hand in one smooth wave of motion. You can feel his body tensing up underneath yours as he starts to get there.
You can feel the hot liquid burst of him through your fingers, and you quickly pull your hand away. You watch as his head rolls back and hits the wall. He doesn't mind the pain in that moment because something felt so good, that he'll deal with he headache later.
You loved watching him cum, it was like revolutionary to your sight. Everything about it was beautiful, from the way he stopped moaning, the way he opened and shut his eyelids, and the way he would be so flustered and pink.
Especially since it's been so so long since you've touched that pretty little(not so little) dick of his, it didn't take long for him to spill. He was super sensitive as well, but that's not uncommon for him.
"I'm sorry I made a mess," he said with his head still on the wall and his chest rising and falling. Little sweat beads on his forehead glided down, and you looked at him adoring him.
"No baby it's okay, I just missed you and I wish you told me sooner." you then gout onto your knees, hovering your face over his painted abs, painted with his cum.
His eyes peaked open and he watched you, a bit nervous.
"Can I clean this up for you, Soobin?"
masterlist.
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antimatterz · 9 months
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Help I had an idea
What if with a self aware blade that their yn wants to pull for him but ended up losing pity instead of getting blade and they are too sad because they want to get blade
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losing the 50/50 on his banner
blade x gn!reader
summary: you warp for blade but lose the 50/50.
cw. self-aware au, slightly possessive blade
content under the cut | masterlist
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your heart was pounding as your gaze rested on the number of stellar jades you owned. you've saved up a lot for his release, but was it enough? your next five-star wasn't guaranteed to be the one promoted, or, in other words, you had to win the 50/50 in order to get him. that simple fact made you nervous.
     "to be honest, i'm terrified," you admitted.
     "aww, you want me to join your team that badly?" blade teased lightly. (but in fact, he wanted to come home to you just as badly, he just doesn't admit it).
     "you know how much i want you," you sighed, and blade smirked.
     "do you realize how that sounds?" he asked, amused.
     "shut up," you laughed, your hand hovering over the button that would allow you to do your first ten-pull on blade's banner. "should i warp? i'm losing my shit here."
     "go on," blade encouraged you, leaning back with a grin still on his face. "wait for gold, and i'll be with you."
     "you don't know," you corrected him. "i have to beat the 50/50 first."
the male fell silent, because he knew you were right. nothing he would say or do would affect that matter. it all came down to sheer luck.
well, procrastinating wouldn't magically increase your luck, maybe you just had to get it over with. you glanced at blade one last time, as if that would actually manifest him, and then you hit the warp button. your heart was hammering anxiously – bladie was right, you badly wanted him. you would be absolutely devastated if you were to lose the 50/50. you watched the warp animation (bad luck if you skipped, right?) and you heaved out a breath you didn't realize you were holding when the door flashed a bright purple. no five-star in your first ten-pull. disinterested already, you skimmed through the results and went on to the next pull. once more, it turned purple, and you sighed in disappointment.
you watched your stellar jade count go down rapidly, which wasn't doing good in soothing your anxiety. you didn't have a lot left, but if your calculations were corrent, you were to hit pity soon.
meanwhile, blade was getting impatient and so were you. while you only got a little antsy, the stellaron hunter got quite grumpy as your warps went by unsuccesfully.
     "i think i'm almost there," you said, your voice a few octaves higher than it usually was. that was how nervous you were. terrified, actually, now that you were getting closer.
     "it better be me," blade hissed, folding his arms.
     "it better be you," you agreed with a curt nod.
finally, freaking finally, the door flashed a vivid gold. your heart leapt in your chest, as you closed your eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh. surely, you weren't ready for this, but you had to get through with it. your hands were shaking as you skimmed through the result, and you sucked in a sharp breath when five golden stars sprung onto your screen. this was it!
but it wasn't blade.
your heart sank as you gazed at the standard five-star that appeared on your screen. that wasn't your beloved stellaron hunter. you lost the 50/50. you cursed, though your voice held no anger but only sadness instead. it was enough to let blade know what happened, and he growled.
     "who is it," he seethed, cracking his knuckles. "i'm gonna–"
     "it's okay," you said softly, more to convince yourself than to soothe the angered stellaron hunter. "it's fine, i actually needed this character, too."
but it wasn't fine. you were upset, to say the least, and you were only trying to cope by lying to yourself. you wanted blade so badly, but instead you got someone else. truth was, you didn't even want them, that was merely a lie to make it seem a little less bad. it wasn't blade, so you were not interested in them at all.
     "y/n, listen," blade spoke up, his voice trembling with anger. "i don't care who came home instead, they aren't important. remember you still have a few weeks before my banner ends. i will come home, i promise."
he gazed at you intensely, pressing his hand to his side of the screen. you understood his intention, pressing the palm of your hand to the screen of your device as well. it was as if you were sealing a promise here, and between the threads of sadness that lingered through your being, you found the will to grind like a madman in order to get bladie still.
     "you're right, you will come home," you nodded, forcing a smile.
you retreated your hand, closing the warp screen because you had a mission to embark on. and you wouldn't quit before your beloved stellaron hunter was home with you, where he belonged.
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scoobysnakz · 2 months
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part 2 of dbf miguel. so sorry this took so long, accidentally deleted the draft like twenty times.
The TV hums softly as a random sitcom you've not gotten the chance to see yet flickers across the screen. You know you should turn it off, it's distracting you from completing your essay, one you've been procrastinating about finishing, but the background noise is comforting enough to let you keep it on, even if you'll have to rewatch it all later.
“Need help with that?”
You jump at the sudden noise, pen now clattering on the floor and rolling dangerously close to the sofa. You look up at where the voice came from, only to be met with a freshly shaven Miguel.
Embarrassment burns the back of your neck as you shift on the plush cushion of the sofa. The only thing covering the crinkled page of your otherwise barren notebook is an array of flowers around the margin and random notes scribbled out in heavy, blotchy lines.
“Am fine,” you smile, fingers spreading out to hide your work, or lack of.
Miguel just scoffs at you before pushing your hand away. “Such detailed notes,” he chides.
“It's meant to be an essay, but thanks anyway.”
You hear him stifle a laugh that you pray is sympathetic and not as amused as it sounds. It's shameful how far behind you are on your schoolwork when you have someone peering over your shoulder.
You aren't quite sure why you're so pent up on impressing Miguel, a man who is staying at his friend's house for some unbeknownst reason.
He sits down on the sofa next to you, a respectful distance but you can still smell his overbearing cologne and hair gel fusion. The sofa sinks slightly at his weight, a low creak eminating through the room.
He laughs, “let me help.”
Irritation bubbles deep in your stomach but you try to push it away, ignore it and keep going with the conversation. But when he acts so casual, even though he's stolen your bedroom, your only haven in this monstrosity of a household, you can’t help but feel annoyed with him.
“I doubt it,” you quip with an air of ignorance, fingers drumming erratically on the inky pages, “this is biology, aren't you like a chemist or something?”
A smirk curls at the corner of his lips at your sudden attitude, but he doesn't comment on it, leaving your opinion of him more distasteful than ever. “Well my degree says organic chemistry and molecular biology, so you're both wrong and right.”
“Mmm, so either, you're loaded, or up to your neck in debt.” you don't even try to hide the snark in your voice, “considering the fact that you’re staying here, I'm guessing student loan got the better of you.”
He scoffs at you, hand clasped to his chest in feigned hurt. “I'll have you know, I have a well-paying job, thank you very much.”
You flip your notebook shut, a small sense of relief washing over you now that disgrace of an essay is hidden, and shift to face him. “Then why are you here?”
He swallows, hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. His gaze flickers between your face and the wall behind you, discomfort colouring his expression. The atmosphere of the room shifts entirely, and suddenly you feel guilty for hating him. Maybe he didn't mean to take your room, not on purpose anyway.
“I lost my house, not… not because of money or anything,” he pauses, plush lips pursed into a tight grimace before he continues, “didn't get a very good divorce lawyer.”
“I'm… sorry?” you've never been good at sympathy, always pushed the hard topic of emotions onto someone else so you can focus on something you're actually good at. But now, some weird part of you wants to comfort him.
“Hmm?” he looks back at your eyes, your breath catching in your throat, “Not your fault, querida, I was a silly man who did silly things. I made a mistake and lost the love of my life.”
“Don't say that.” you hate the way your voice softens. You want to keep this burning resentment for Miguel, loathe him for all eternity, it might seem petty but he deserves it. Yet, you want to pull him close, tell him to stop being so hard on himself and run your fingers through his hair until his jaw unclenches.
He shakes his head, casually, as if it was never that important.
“I couldn't stay faithful and I paid the price, she has everything she deserves leaving me with… nothing.”
An awkward silence fills the room. You don't know what to say to that other than, I take back my kindness and spit in your face for cheating on your wife.
“She was amazing, so full of life, and then one day… we just stopped clicking,” he leans back against the sofa, head craning back so that he's forced to stare at the yellowing ceiling, “it wasn't a spur of the moment, because I got bored thing. We had stopped loving each other, she had anyway.”
You reach out, your fingers brushing against his much more calloused, harsh ones causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. You give his hand a gentle squeeze that lasts a little longer than intended, but the sweetness of the action doesn't go unnoticed.
The upbeat theme tune from the TV suddenly blares out from the speakers causing the two of you to startle. Your fingers tighten around his on instinct but you immediately pull your hand away.
Miguel chuckles a low, mellow sound that makes your ears perk up. “Sat on the remote,” he says, pulling it from under his thigh.
“Scared the shit out of me, Migs- Miguel,” you breathe heavily.
He nods, smiling uneasily, praying that the hammering of his heart is from the sudden shock and not from the kindness you displayed. But deep down, he knows the truth.
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leighsartworks216 · 5 months
Text
Butterfly's Repose
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
Two fics in such a short span of time?! Yeah, I'm procrastinating. I actually wasn't going to finish this little thing I started in my notes today, but then I got an idea for how to continue it and HAD to get it out. So here it is
Title comes from "Butterfly's Repose" by Zabawa
Warnings: nightmares, crying, references to past abuse, low self-worth, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 804
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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Arms squeeze tighter around your middle. You don't notice at first - you've just woken up and your brain hasn't caught up yet, and having arms around you like this is not unfamiliar or strange. In fact, you know right away that it's Astarion. You'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, wrapped around each other with intertwining legs and faces pressed into necks and shoulders.
He shifts so his head rests squarely over your chest, and again you think nothing of it. You relax back into the bed, into your pillow and the warm sheets. Sleep starts to claim you again, grabbing you with syrupy tendrils that make it hard to think.
But then you feel something wet against your skin. Wet and hot, and he's trembling. You force your eyes open, fighting against the desire to sleep. You can't see his face in the dark, but you know. You know he's crying.
You slowly begin to slide your fingers through his curls, careful not to startle him or pull at any knots. "Star?" you murmur into the dark. "What's wrong? What happened?"
A choked sob rips from his throat. There’s no point hiding his tears now. He tries to speak, but he can’t come up with anything. All he can do is shake his head and press further against you.
You wrap your arm around his shoulder to hold him close and fully begin to play with his hair in all the ways you know he enjoys. You shush him gently, kissing the top of his head. “You’re safe, love. You’re safe. Nobody is going to hurt you here.” Another harsh sob wracks his body, and you begin rubbing up and down his back. “It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
It must have been a nightmare or a memory - nothing else could upset him this much, and he flipped between trances and normal sleep so often it was hard to know which he’d endured. You would kill Cazador over and over again if it meant removing Astarion’s suffering. You’d kill the bastard 200 times - once for each year of life he ruined for your lover. And a million more for every other life he ruined.
His fingers curl into the fabric at your back, holding on as though letting go would cause him to fall off a deep precipice. But you wouldn’t let that happen. Not for as long as you live - and further if you had any say in the matter.
Sleep does not come to visit again. You’re too worried for the man in your arms to care. By the time his crying has softened to whimpers and sniffles, you can see the orange of the sun trying to break through the dark curtains. And still you don’t care.
When the whimpers reduce further to mere shaky breaths, you know it has finally passed. You kiss his head again, whispering into the white hairs that tickle your face just how proud you are of him, how much you love him, how strong he is. You’d never stop until he finally got it through his brain just how true each word was.
He pulled away and you let him, watching as he cringed and tried to wipe away the wet spot he left on your skin. You chuckled gently and grabbed his hand to stop him. “It’s okay, love, I don’t mind.” He sighs, relenting. He can’t meet your eyes. You wonder if you were in his dream.
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out. You immediately shush him again.
“It’s okay, my love. Thank you for trusting me.”
He sighs shakily, eyes closing. He’s relieved. When he opens his eyes again, he notices the sun’s orange glow behind the curtains, just as you had. “Gods, I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to keep you up all night.”
You cup his cheek and lift his head just so you could place a kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay. Just means we get to have a lazy day in bed.”
He holds your wrist and turns into your palm. “You’re too good to me.”
“And you deserve every second of it.” He kisses your hand, but argues no further. “C’mon, love. I’ll hum to you for a bit, how does that sound?”
It must sound perfectly lovely, because he wastes no time repositioning so his head is tucked into your shoulder, nose pressing into your neck. His hands rest loosely on your back now. You continue to stroke and comb through his hair and hold him close. He can feel the vibrations of your voice as you begin humming a quiet lullaby. They mix with the heartbeat thrumming through your pulse and the breaths you take to continue singing. A symphony of sound to reassure him you’re alright. You’re alright.
---
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