#yes she is holding a sponge

[hysperia]

Had a silly moment with Krolock-Munkustrap and Demeter plushies made by @fleece-and-feltical-cats.

#cats the musical #steve barton #tdv #demeter #tanz der vampire #yes she is holding a sponge #next time I might build a spiral staircase out of books or something #the tanz crowd will probably be wondering *again* why these cats are showing up in their tags

[lakefu]

A Perfect Warmth 🕯️

Summary: Astarion and Tav take a well deserved break away form the chaos of their adventures at an inn inside Baldur's Gate. They need to clean up and get back on the road but they keep getting distracted. Perhaps plans could be delayed for a night of passion...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Tags: 18+, Explicit, fluffy smut, brief Astarion trauma response, PIV, erogenous elf ears, scent kink, blood + biting, a bit of praise, a bit of edging... a sprinkle of cockwarming...., these guys are in love...

Word count: 3.5k Note: This was my first fic originally uploaded on Ao3 on 11/27/23, inspired by the patch #4 dev note mentioning adding sponges to clean your companions. I've made edits from the Ao3 post.

“Remind me to sell this junk next time we pass by a merchant, would you dear?” Astarion was seated at the edge of the bed and rummaging through his traveler’s pack, placing various items on the nightstand for further examination. Two silver forks, an old necklace, and a handful of various polished stones ended up on the table before he plucked out an intricate sapphire ring and held it up to the sunlight peeking through the window.

“Good taste,” he muttered to himself. He placed the ring on his pinky finger in amusement and resumed the scavenge. 

“It’s going to get difficult sneaking up on people if I have to lug this heavy thing around you know.” He threw over a glance at Tav, who was preoccupied with gathering laundry together in preparation for the next day.

“It wouldn’t be so heavy if you didn’t pocket nearly every shiny thing we came across,” she teased, without even looking over at him.

He gasped dramatically. “Framed by my own lover? Quite the scandal. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the near dozen times you’ve asked me to hold onto your things because your own pack was too full.”

“Hmm. Maybe. I guess that might sound sort of familiar…” She giggled to herself and walked into the bedroom to catch his eye, meeting him with a mischievous grin. 

“Why are you such a- oh! Now, what’s this you’re wearing?” Astarion blinked and scanned her up and down, clearly enthralled by the wardrobe change. She stood there in an old linen robe that was yellowed with age, definitely unlike anything he had ever seen her in before.

“Just some old thing I found in the dresser here, isn’t it just fabulous?” Tav's words were dripping in sarcasm and yet she smiled, performing a grandiose little spin in the middle of the room as if she was wearing the most beautiful ball gown in the world.

“I… it’s just so different from your usual armor or that drow nightwear you fancy so much. You look so… domestic.” His eyes were locked onto Tav intensely, with brow furrowed as he seemed to be confused by his own words.

She felt her heart skip a beat and a flush run to her face.

“And you think that’s a good look for me?”

His eyes softened and he paused a moment before quietly answering.

“Yes… I do.”

Tav watched as his smile faded and the gaze of his eyes became increasingly more distant. The atmosphere seemed to shift and a slight panic ran through her body. Did she do something wrong? No... and it didn’t require a tadpole connection to get an understanding for what had brought down his spirits.

Astarion hadn’t considered a comfortable domestic life was possible for someone like him. Even the slightest concept of such a thing had been buried for over a hundred years, and he never expected it to resurface. Was he worthy of such a thing, and was it even possible? 

Oh, it was possible. The evidence was standing right in front of him, spinning circles in an ugly bathrobe. He could see glimpses of a happy future that was so close to being a reality he nearly felt nauseous. Not because he was unsure of himself, but because there were still too many unresolved matters they had a duty to attend to. Too many missions and stupid little quests that could now go wrong and threaten this idea of a happy ending he never even knew was possible.

Everything was different now that he realized what was possible, and he suddenly felt an unknown and uncomfortable pressure. All he knew was that he couldn’t afford to lose in the upcoming battles. Battles that some would say were impossible, suicidal even. The thought of loss at this point was beyond unbearable. It was sickening just to think about.

“Hey!!” Tav ran up to where he was sitting on the bed and took his head in her hands. She placed a delicate kiss on his forehead, knowing she had to get him focused on something else.

“Why don’t we go to the shop right now and get rid of that stuff,” she motioned to the collection of items that had been gathered on the nightstand.

“Wouldn’t hurt to get some more coin in our pockets, right?” She looked at him expectantly and felt a huge relief as a light seemed to return to his eye and meet her view.

“Please tell me you aren’t going to wear that horrid robe to see the merchant,” he sighed and looked up at her pleadingly.

“Of course not!! I’ll change and- oh gods!!! We’ve got to get this blood off your face, the merchant is going to think we are trying to kill him!” Tav exclaimed as she lightly shook his shoulders, and quickly began examining his body to see how much cleaning would have to get done before they could leave.

“Blood… on my face?” He raised an eyebrow and brought a finger to his cheek.

“Yeah!! Well, it’s all over you really, dontcha remember earlier today, fighting those cultists?? You sneaked up behind one of ‘em and BAM!!! Just obliterated with a single strike, it was amazing!! You’re so strong…you know.” Her pulse was racing at the mere memory of the event as she delicately traced the side of his face with her fingers and ventured down to his chest. 

“Ah of course. That was all so terribly easy I’d nearly forgotten,” he said proudly, adjusting his posture and keeping his eyes on Tav’s hand movements sliding across his chest. Her soft touch was becoming more firm as her fingers made their way toward his arms, giving his biceps a teasing squeeze before leaning her face into his and teasing a kiss.

Before their lips could touch, Astarion wags a finger in between their faces as if to remind Tav of the task at hand.

“Alright my sweet, let’s clean up shall we? You’re my mirror after all. So, go on then.” He took her hands into his own and gave them a kiss before placing them back at her side, encouraging her to go and gather whatever it was she needed to get him cleaned up.

Right, the supplies. It was nearly impossible to remain focused after moments of intimacy with him, no matter how brief they were. She quickly moved into the other room to acquire the washcloths and bucket of soapy water that she was using for herself not too long ago. Hands full, she scurried back to the bedroom to meet her lover, who hadn’t moved an inch.

As she approached him, Tav could feel the tie on her robe becoming increasingly more loose with each step that was taken across the floor. The embarrassment hit her as she realized she didn't have any hands free to do anything about it. She quickly tried to put the bucket down by the bedside, but the bending movement only resulted in the robe slipping off one of her shoulders, exposing a bare breast.

“Oh? You haven’t got anything on underneath?” Astarion cocked his head in amusement, eyes unmoving from the newly exposed skin.

“Ye-yeah that’s the whole point of robes isn’t it? I was doing laundry earlier ya know and umm,” She laughed nervously and started to fix the wardrobe malfunction but was quickly stopped by a hand over her own. Astarion reached out toward her until both hands were around her waist and pulled her in close to his body. Fangs were peeking through his devious smile while determined eyes looked her up and down. With a singular finger he crept over to the loose knot of the robe’s tie and flicked it completely undone with one swift movement.

Tav shuddered and felt her body starting to run warm despite now being suddenly exposed to the cool air of the inn. She was completely revealed to him now, the robe only just clinging to her arms and draped across her backside.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he sighed and began kissing her stomach and caressing the curves of her waist. “Come here.”

Tav gasped as she felt his cold grip around her waist tighten as he expertly lifted her up onto his lap with ease. Pleased at the new angle, Astarion shifted his attention to kissing the crook of her neck and started moving down her chest. He delightfully found her nipple with his mouth in no time, and teased it in circles with his tongue just as he knew she liked it. His gentle sucking continued for only a few brief moments before he suddenly withdrew and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well. You can reach my face better up here I’m sure. For the cleaning of course,” he said smugly. The elf leaned back and admired the view of his lover, nude and flustered, perched oh-so perfectly on top of him.

“The cleaning…” Tav nodded and remembered she still had a warm and soapy washcloth in her hand. The urge to throw the stupid cloth into some unknown corner of the room was nearly undeniable. All she wanted in this moment was for him to take her completely, in any way he wanted, it didn’t matter as long as she ended up getting fucked into oblivion. So fine. On with the cleaning.

She raised the washcloth to his temple and slowly began to wipe away the dried blood by working down his face. His cheeks were a bit sunken as usual but flushed adorably in this moment, clearly enjoying the tender rubs of cloth on his skin. She continued rubbing down toward his chiseled jawline, across to his lips, and back up the other side to repeat the process once more. She ran her fingers through his silver curls and noticed his ears would need cleaning too. 

One hand caressed the pointy ear to keep it in place and the other brought the washcloth in for a gentle scrub. A quiet moan suddenly escaped the vampire’s lips.

Oh? She had seemingly discovered a sensitive spot and noted that she would have to continue her work carefully. The scrubbing continued but Tav couldn’t keep her eyes off his face now. His eyes were closed but still noticeably moving behind their lids, and his lips were slightly parted with his breathing becoming increasingly heavier and more noticeable. 

Astarion was in his own world of pleasure. What in the hells had he been doing these past weeks, aimlessly scrubbing himself clean alone in the river when they could have been doing this the whole time instead?

He opened his eyes just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. She was still there of course, diligently and lovingly taking such good care of his body. A wave of maddening lust rushed through his core and he needed her closer. He needed her as close as physically possible and even more so after that.

Their eyes met, revealing intense desires. Tav lowered her hands and she spoke slowly, “Can you take your shirt off? There’s a spot I can’t get to with it on…” 

She wasn’t fooling anybody, but he obeyed without hesitation. The shirt was gone in seconds, revealing his pale and perfectly sculpted chest. It was a sight that Tav never tired of admiring, and was in fact the subject of distracting daydreams on the daily. She shifted her body closer to his and continued scrubbing his neck and chest, despite it becoming increasingly more difficult to focus. Deep breaths.

She had always been fond of his cologne that he was quite proud of concocting himself. The scent of aged brandy, bergamot, and rosemary was now forever an Astarion specialty that she could never forget. Even during times of battle or travel, a gust of wind could carry his essence to her and bring along with it a sense of reassuring familiarity. As she continued to wipe him down, however, a different scent began to come to the forefront.

It was something that did not seem completely foreign, but it wasn't immediately identifiable either. There was something about taking it all in that felt forbidden. Tav tried to pinpoint what she was experiencing. He smelled earthy… raw… unnatural… it was without a doubt, the undeath.

An undeniable heat rose through her body as she engulfed herself with this pure scent from her lover. The washcloth, the bed, the entire room seemed miles away, and nothing felt coherent except for a craving to be even closer to him. Nothing else existed except their bodies and her overwhelming desire to-

“Eager, are we?” A sultry voice snapped her back into reality, where piercing red eyes amusingly greeted her return. She suddenly became aware of a presence between her thighs and glanced down, realizing she was sitting atop a clothed bulge. His hands had a firm grip on her backside and his encouraging movements made it clear she had been absentmindedly grinding on him during her trance. 

“Shit, I got carried away…” She hadn’t taken her eyes off his crotch and began to notice that her excitement had left a dampness on his clothes. Embarrassment nearly overtook her, but a gentle yet confident hand grabbed her chin and brought it up to meet his gaze. He leaned into her with a grinning open mouth and kissed her passionately, tongues intertwining.

She felt his fangs briefly scrape against her tongue every so often until a metallic taste became increasingly noticeable. She didn't mind the blood, especially since it seemed to enhance his arousal as noted by his hips continuously jolting faster up into her exposed crotch. Tav was soon pleasantly overwhelmed between his deep kisses and desperate hands groping her at every curve of her body. She longed to give him everything; her blood for his hunger, her body for his pleasure. 

Tav released herself from the kiss they had been locked into and tilted her head so that her neck became exposed as an undeniable gift. His mouth lunged at the presented spot as soon as it was noticed, fangs immediately sinking in deep. Tav cried out at the initial impact but soon was reveling in the experience. It was a perfect mixture of pain and pleasure that she was only capable of experiencing from him.

He remained on her neck for a while, still tightly holding on to her body and keeping one hand free to reassuringly caress the back of her head. It was only after the blood flow slowed to a near stop did he cease his medley of licking and sucking at the wound. Blood dripped down his chin and onto his exposed chest, but he was ultimately unfazed. He leaned back, clearly happy and mostly satisfied, but there was still a different type of satisfaction he had left to chase.

Astarion's throbbing erection was begging to be released from its clothed restraints. He quickly untied his pants and shifted his underwear to finally free it. He moaned a few incomprehensible words of relief and stroked himself a few times before looking up at Tav for approval.

Tav had been staring at his length from the moment it was exposed, an impressive size for an elf, no doubt. Her eyes fixated on his perfectly pink tip, glistening with precum just for her. She immediately fantasized of shoving him down her throat until she choked and cried, but that was a fantasy for another day. In their current position, they both knew there was only one simple way of how to continue.

“Astarion,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

Tav sat up on her knees and positioned herself so that her entrance was just nearly grazing the head of his dick, ready to take him in completely at any moment. She grabbed ahold of his shaft and guided the tip back and forth through her folds until he was covered in her slick. The new sensation of the friction between them left them both gasping and desperate for more.

Suddenly, finally, his arms wrapped around her body as he pulled her down onto him with one firm motion. Astarion grunted through his teeth while Tav moaned unapologetically, focusing on relaxing enough to allow her body to adjust to his length inside of her. 

The temperature differences between their bodies only heightened the feelings of pleasure whenever they became one. Her warmness was intoxicating to him, granting a sense of safety and bliss that was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He was already so close to the edge in this moment, but was not ready to give in just yet. He wanted this moment of heaven to last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, Tav was having the time of her life riding her man like there was no tomorrow. She had no intent to slow down until a pair of large hands suddenly gripped her hips in a way that prevented any further movement.

“I’m not done with you yet, love. Didn’t you notice the mess I’ve made after feasting on you?” Astarion took a finger to his chin and smeared a bit of Tav’s fresh blood down his neck.

It was true, he had made a mess. Quite uncharacteristically of him in fact. Tav had assumed he had simply gotten careless in his horny and feral craze but no- it was clearly all calculated. 

“Just be still and sit nice and pretty on my cock. Finish the cleaning, then I’ll take care of you myself. How does that sound?” 

How does that sound? His words echoed in her head, which was already spinning plenty enough as it was. She was unsure if it was from the blood loss or her seemingly never ending carnal desires, but perhaps it was both. One thing was certain, however, he could convince her to do damn near anything speaking in that low and lustful tone of his. Without uttering a word she slowly brought the washcloth up to his chest. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. He felt her body twitch around him in response to the praise, and he leaned back to relax and enjoy these final few moments of intimacy. 

It had taken everything in Tav's power to remain still while she worked. It wasn't exactly easy to focus- she was being split in half by a whimpering vampire beneath her after all. Astarion’s skilled fingers had been dancing around her swollen clit the whole time, just enough to keep her stimulated but never enough to let her come.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the blood was all cleaned up. She hadn't even realized when it happened or how he did it, but his pants were completely gone now. She reached over to place the cloth down and awaited her reward of sweet release.

Astarion’s hands moved to the knees that were straddling him and slowly pushed them farther apart, spreading Tav’s legs open bit by bit. She inhaled sharply as she took him in deeper. He opened her up more and more until she lost her balance and fell backwards onto his expectant embrace. 

“Relax darling, I’ve got you,” He purred in reassurance. 

Astarion took her entire weight in his arms with ease and laid her down amongst the soft pillows of the bed. He nestled himself comfortably between her legs, making sure their bodies were flush with one another. Nearly smothered by his body now, all Tav could do was claw at his back and arch her hips into his powerful thrusts. His mouth frantically traveled across her lips and neck with desperately wet kisses until he settled near her ear with a playful nibble.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispered tenderly, while the rhythm of his lovemaking became increasingly sporadic. “So fucking perfect… Gods…just for me… I love you… so much...”

“Star, I- ah!” Her words cut short as she felt something snap within her. Pure ecstasy- she was falling and flying somewhere a million galaxies away and never wanted to come back. Obscene noises and curses filled the room as they rode out each other’s high in tight embrace. The smell of sex lingered in the air as their bodies heaved with labored breaths, finally collapsing on each other in exhaustion. 

They laid together a while longer, exchanging soft kisses and enjoying the short moment in time where nothing else in the world mattered. Eventually, Astarion rolled out of the bed and stood up to stretch. 

“Tsk, looks like it’s my turn to clean you up my dear,” He said with an accomplished grin, eying how her thighs were dripping with his sticky mess.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move an inch. Actually, I doubt you can move at all after that, ahaha!” He laughed and leaned over to brush aside a strand of Tav’s sweaty hair that was stuck to her forehead before walking over to the other room. 

“Shut up… dummy…” she smiled to herself and rolled over, feeling at ease enough that the weight of sleep was starting to overtake her.

“I love you too, Astarion.” Her eyes closed as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that her lover would soon come back to her side like he always did, and always would.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #bg3 astarion #astarion fluff #bg3 #astarion fanfiction #vampire fanfiction #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #bg3 smut

[empress-simps]

Missed Hints

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader CW: Language Genre: Fluff Summary: Remus Lupin wanted to make his feelings known; he is trying numerous ways to tell you, but you are simply quite oblivious to the poor boy’s advances.

Note: Am I a bit too obsessed with Rems? Probably. This one's a bit shorter than the rest. Enjoy reading! Pictures used are from Pinterest, credits to the owners!

Sometimes, all Remus wanted to do was run into a wall to knock himself out.

Maybe it’ll help formulate a reason why you couldn’t pick up his signals and actions that he wants to be more than friends. Please cut this poor boy some slack; he’s literally done everything he could to hint that he likes you.

The problem is that you are quite oblivious- being as dense as the castle walls in Hogwarts. Although this hasn’t stopped Remus from pursuing you after several pitiful (also quite funny) attempts, if anything, it made him work even harder to let you know he fancies you.

“Y/n, wait up!” Remus calls out to you, leaving his mates, who were whispering words of encouragement and ‘good luck’ to him. Hearing your name made you turn around, a book in your hand, as you smiled at the taller boy. “Remus, hi!” He smiled, walking beside you and settling in at the same pace as you. Suddenly, a friend of yours piped up, “Y/n, we have to go get something in the dorms; stay with Remus, yeah?” before you could even reply, they were rushing to leave. Remus could only blush as your friends shot him a thumbs up before escaping the scene, trying to stop the giggles escaping their mouths.

It was all up to him now.

“Erm, so how were the holidays?” he asked, trying to act casually as he placed his hands in his pockets. The question made you hum, your eyes lit up. "Oh, it was wonderful! We spent the holidays in Canada, lots of snow, I made a snow man and visited some parks.” She nods, holding her book closer to her chest, seemingly lost in thought. “It was also freezing.” Remus hums in agreement. “Is that so? I’m glad you had fun.” He smiles, and you both walk towards the great hall to have dinner.

You looked up at him with a bright smile and said, “Tell me about yours, Rems! I’m sure it was also fun.” Remus blushed, hearing his nickname roll off your tongue so casually. Even after all the years you’ve known each other, simply calling him by his nickname that you specially made for him has an effect that never faded away. “Well, it was just simple, really. I just stayed at James’ and had fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, smiling at you. He could care less about his holiday shenanigans, preferring you just talk his ear off about every little thing you did, he will absorb what you say word by word, like a sponge.

 "Well, James is quite an interesting person.” She hummed in agreement, Remus felt his eyebrow twitch, a small twinge similar to jealousy creeping up into him. What about him? Do you think he’s interesting too? Was Remus someone who could be worthy of your time?

 “Yeah, that bloke was conjuring up some pranks to pull this year.”

You let out a small giggle and oh merlin please take the poor boy to Madame Pomfrey because he thinks his poor heart can’t handle all the feelings he has towards you. Remus Lupin is such a simp.

He clears his throat, trying to muster up some courage as he asks you the million-galleon question. “So, are you free tomorrow? It’s Hogsmeade day.” Remus smiles, thankfully, his clammy hands are kept under his pockets, making his nervousness almost unnoticeable. Your eyes lit up “Oh! I forgot, but yes, I am free tomorrow.” Remus saw his chance and took it. “Great, how about we hang out in Three Broomsticks?”

For Merlin’s sake, please make this turn into Lupin’s favor. He’s done too many ways to confess to your clueless self.

“That would be fantastic! I can bring my friends along, and you can bring James, Sirius, and Peter too!” you clapped your hands excitedly, not noticing how the werewolf visibly deflated as you exclaimed. Right, might as well reject him right now on the spot to end his misery.

He could probably shout “I love you” and stare at you directly- but you’ll just think he’s talking to someone behind you. Remus had also tried to pass you a note containing his feelings for you back then. Grabbing it without much of a thought, you passed it to your friend, thinking he wants you to give it to her, who shakes her head and sighs, looking at Remus.

The rest of the Marauders and your friends think Remus’s plans of confessing to you were a lost cause.

“Our poor Moony…” Peter frowns, as James shakes his head. “At this point, Moony should just kiss her.” Sirius sighed, feeling pity for his friend. “She would probably think it was a friendly kiss.” Peter snorts, trying to control his laughter, James glared at Sirius jokingly before pushing him. “Bugger off Pads, Y/N’s just… super innocent? I guess.” They resumed watching the two from a distance, a look of anticipation evident in their faces.

“I was kind of hoping it’ll be just us?” Remus grins nervously, sitting beside you as you reach the Gryffindor table. You took a bite out of the apple pie from your plate before replying, “Sure, it’ll still be fun. You’re a great company, Rems.” She smiles, before resuming on eating the remaining apple pie slice. Little do you know the simple compliment you made had a tremendous effect on Remus.

“Moony, your smile hasn’t left your face ever since Y/n agreed. Stop it, I’m getting scared.” Sirius states, Remus turns to look, a hint of a small dopey smile on his face. “Hm?”

“Oh merlin, Y/n broke him.” Peter blanches. They were smacked upside their heads lightly by James. “Come on now, don’t rain on his parade. Moon’s just… well- over the moon.” James laughs lightly, Sirius snorts while Peter tries to hide his smile. Remus rolled his eyes playfully, opening his trunk to pick out the clothes he’s going to wear tomorrow. “Whatever, now help me decide what to wear, you sods.”

“Rems! Over here!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes, arms up and waving in his directions. Remus smiles, maneuvering through the line of students waiting to get out of Hogwarts and to Hogsmeade. “Y/n! you look… pretty.” He blushes, drinking in the sight of you. Remus could swear on his life that he saw a light shade of pink dust your cheek as you tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

“Thank you, I like your sweater. It suits you.” You said, eyes going over his body and one of Remus’s signature sweaters. You can’t deny it; you like what you see, you were pulled from your thoughts when someone spoke.

“Oi! Get a move on you half-blood and goody-two-shoes! Holding up the bloody line is what you’re doing!” Evan Rosier, a Slytherin student complained a few feet away from you and Remus, Mulciber and Dolohov backs their fellow Slytherin and friend up. He snarls, those blokes, looks like they’ll have a new target for one of their nasty pranks.

“If I were you, I would shut my mouth.” Remus warns, standing in front of you, blocking your frame from their view.

Evan raised one eyebrow, amusement swimming in his eyes. “What are you going to do? Pesky little Gryffindor like you are always running around trying to be brave.” He taunts, moving closer to their direction.

“Rems, I’m fine. Let’s go, yeah?” She gently tugs the sleeve of his sweater, he looks down at you, his expression softening. “Alright then.” He threw one last warning look at Rosier over his shoulder; that punk needs to just wait and see what’s going to come and bite his ass.

The two of you are sitting in the Three Broomsticks, talking about basically anything under the sun. Well, you mostly talked while Remus just listens, humming and sometimes sharing his two cents on the topic you are on.

“Rems, thank you.”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up in confusion, “Thank you? What for?”

“Earlier, Evan Rosier.”

“Ah, that prick. It was nothing, y/n.” He offers a gentle smile; he wants to touch your hand that was directly across his from the table but ultimately deciding against it, the last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for being my friend. You’re an amazing person who deserves the world.” She smiles, slowly taking his hand onto hers and squeezing it tightly.

He felt a crack in his heart. “Yeah, you are too.” He managed to choke out, offering a wry smile.

Friends. Is that it? Is he just one of the many friends you have in your life? Is he a friend that will slowly drift away after you graduate from Hogwarts? Merlin, he would even count himself lucky if you invited him to be at your wedding, and if he wants to push his luck then he might even be the godfather to one of your future kids.

You furrowed your brows, “Is there something wrong, Rems?” He looks at you, quickly shaking his head. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?” You hummed, “Well, you have this kind of haunted look on you when you’re bothered about something; you’re doing it right now.”

Remus blinks, even he himself wasn’t aware of that. He closed his eyes and sighed; fuck it. He’ll push his luck to the extremes by confessing his love for you. Doesn’t matter if you see him as just a friend, you deserve to know.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

“Of course. What would that be?”

“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this without being upfront about it…” He starts, you urged him to continue; well, here goes nothing.

“Y/n, I-“

“Two butterbeers, correct?”

Remus wants to pull his hair out of frustration as the server walked towards them and set down the butterbeers they ordered, interrupting his speech. You smiled, thanking them before turning to Remus, who was frowning.

“What was it you were trying to say, Rems?” You asked, sipping your butterbeer.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since we met.” He simply blurts out quickly, as if he’s scared someone is going to interrupt again. You blink slowly, setting your butterbeer down gently.

“I like you too, Remus.”

“No- you don’t understand,” He shakes his head as you furrowed your eyebrows, utterly confused.

“I fancy you, love.” He emphasizes, taking both of your hands into his large ones, looking at you straight in the eyes, completely serious. She widens her eyes ever so slightly, her heart rate speeding up a bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve always fancied you too, Rems.”

Remus felt as if the time slowed down, his heartbeat pulsing faster, eyes blinking owlishly, his jaw slack in shock.

Did he hear that right? Please tell him that he heard that right.

“I-I… I gave you hints, love!” He sputtered, “But you’ve just ignored them every single time!” She frowns, “I didn’t notice…” Remus agreed, “Forgive me, but you were quite oblivious.” A small smile was on his face.

“You could’ve just said outright that you fancy me, Rems.” She chuckles, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“If you like me too, then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you.” She said, looking at the beverage in her hand. His eyes softened, “Force me? To what, love?”

She sighs, looking up at him. “I didn’t want you to force yourself to try to love me just because I feel that way for you.”  Before Remus could even speak, she opened her mouth again, “I know you, Remus. You would’ve tried either way, that’s just who you are.” She chuckles, sipping butterbeer before continuing.

“You have a heart of gold, Rems. That’s one of the things I love about you.” She rubs her thumb across his scarred knuckles gently. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the simple and gentle touch made his spine shiver.

If this was some kind of dream, then he would be more than happy to not wake up.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out, making you giggle. You stood up from your seat and leaned towards him, you can feel and smell his peppermint toothpaste fanning against your lips, beckoning you closer.

“You don’t even have to ask.” You closed the distance between you and sealed both of your lips with a kiss.

#remus x reader #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #marauders fanfiction #moony x reader #moony #marauders #james potter #sirius black #marauders fic #harry potter #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #the marauders era

[jarofstyles]

Can you write something about love bites pretty pleaseeeeee like Harry’s obsessed with giving them

Yes 🤭🤭🤭🤭 here is a tiny one!

Check out our Patreon

Warnings- kinda dirty hehe

——

“So pretty.” Fingers brushed over her sensitive skin as she looked in the mirror, trying her best to ignore how the sensation wanted to make her shiver. The large form behind her wasn’t helping her achieve that at all. “You look so gorgeous tonight but… my favorite are these.” The marks on the curve of her neck that he’d sucked into pretty bruises, blooming purple.

It was no secret between them that Harry quite liked the marks on her, but he liked putting them there the most. “Thank you.” She laughed through her nose, blending the makeup on her cheeks before setting the little sponge down. “But you’re very distracting, you know that? How am I supposed to cover them if you’re petting all over them?”

“Don’t!” The whine was nearly comical as she caught his scowl in the mirror. “Don’t cover up the art, precious. Leave ‘em there.” It was a travesty, in his opinion, any time they were covered with makeup. Even if she was quite talented at the magic of making them disappear, he didn’t appreciate his little marks of love being covered up. “S’not like we’re going to the Louvre- which, they’d probably appreciate the art anyways. We’re goin’ for drinks at a dingy club to buy overpriced martinis while we chat shit while I wait for you t’get tired enough for me to bring home and love on you.”

Harry was many things. Blunt was one of them.

“Tell me how you really feel, H.” She snorted, putting powder under her eyes. Her hand stuttered though, when she felt him tuck his face into her neck and a wet, hot swipe licked over the marks. It was a bit pathetic how quickly she felt lax, like a dog rolling over for belly rubs, but she gave a shaky exhale as his teeth found a new patch of skin to nibble on.

“I feel like… you should leave those marks so people know t’fuck off, that you get fucked well, that you’re mine. Let their imaginations run wild about how I gave ‘em to you balls deep, or if I did them just like this. As long as they know that you’re a loved and taken woman, m’a happy man.” The grumbles against her skin were finished with another bite, eliciting a noise blooming from her throat.

It was hard to say no to the man in most capacities, with his soft green eyes and his strawberry pout, but when he ran his hands over the front of her dress and his tongue over her throat as he found a new patch to work on, sucking harshly enough to make her knees weaken and her clit throb between her legs? It was impossible. “Harry…” the sigh of his name was accompanied by the lull of her head back against his shoulders, letting him slip his hands under the front of her dress and the makeup brush fall into the sink.

“Lucky we’re even goin’ out when all I want to do is worship that sweet cunt all night. But I’ll be good, I’ll let you get finished with your makeup and all that if you leave ‘em be. Show ‘em off for me. Please?” The plead was melted into her bones, breathing picking up as his fingers cupped over her lace covered cunt, holding it firmly. The man knew how to get his way and this was a solid example. The sweet and silly vibe of the room transforming into the hot and sensual teasing one that he had mastered the art of. “I’ll let you choose whatever you want me t’do to you tonight. Whatever my girl wants. Jus’ let me give you another one and leave my art alone. Everyone should be able to see it.”

How could she say no to that?

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry styles au

[throwaway-yandere]

𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 (Yandere!Neuvillette/Reader)

a/n: this was inspired by my favorite childhood TV show, House MD & Oedipus Rex. The plot was supposed to be something else but dingleaf happened one 4AM ago. Anyways, welcome to our first Throwaway-Thursday this End of Year Blues!!!

Unreliable Synopsis: Everyone held their breath when they heard ex-defense attorney (Y/n) say these words: "Your Honor, I would like to challenge Champion Duelist Clorinde to clear my charges."

CW: yandere themes, reader has so much spite I can fry an egg, hurt/NO COMFORT. Please prioritize your mental health if these CWs are triggering to you. (Note: The plot happens a month before the Fontaine AQ, so he doesn't know about what happened to Vautrin.)

“Why the pale expression? Has the trial last week caused you tremendous pain?”

"Such pallor is caused by pity, not grief.” Neuvilette made his fragile excuse to reassure Furina, but the words did not reach her ears. The ringing of raindrops outside was louder, more convincing. Fontaine is vexed with storms near-daily. The sad verdant earth will soon sponge and dry the hydro dragon’s tears as always, but every man hopes they won’t drown first. 

At first, he was convinced what he harbored was pity. For the pessimists, Fontaine is a nation where virtuous pagans paraded themselves as rich and devoted ran amok. Absolute justice is a cartoonish ideal– lack of entertainment is the death sentence. 

Lady Furina was starting to believe he lives his life by a certain suspect’s final envoi: 

Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.

"Are you insane?!" Navia held your shoulders, eyes wide. 

This was the worst thing you could ever do to your best friend. 

"Maybe I am." You told her, chuckling slightly as your thumbs caressed the nerves behind her palms. Navia, as intimidating as her occupation was, never once gripped you this hard. 

You wish you could hug her fully.

But these prison bars are holding you back.

"Can you blame me, Nav?"

"Don't." She glared. "Don't do this."

Navia trembled.

"Please, don't follow Dad..."

The blonde woman was reduced to a young, hopeless girl. You saw a reflection of the small Navia who lost Callas, and that short glimpse was stretched into a whole tragic spectacle. 

"I'm begging you, (Y/n). Please… d-don't go away. Don't leave me too…"

This was the cruelest you've ever been to someone you love.

But also the kindest you've been to yourself.

"There's nothing else I can do, Nav."

"W-We can always do something! There must be a way!" She screamed gutturally. "We'll find a way to make that Chief Justice pay instead. If there's a will—"

"But there's none. There is no will in me left."

"Then hold on to mine, for Archon's sake! Depend on me!"

"What for? We both lack the means to grasp our Archon's hand." You shook your head, grinning without life. 

You wiped the tears off her cheeks. In a small fraction of time, you trembled, showing a bit of soul.

"Our Goddess has abandoned me. Everyone and everything but you had." You said. "Dear Navia, don't make this harder for yourself. Let me go."

"(Y/n)..."

Her grip relaxed.

Navia finally let go.

But that was not the scene's last word.

Clorinde sprinted towards your cell, seething in electric rage. Navia stepped back. Their relationship might be less than cordial, but Clorinde was also your friend.

And after all these years of friendship, she never would've guessed you would elicit such melancholic frustration within her.

She knows she'll come out of this duel victorious.

She knows if she doesn't say a word, she'll be the one to bury you six feet under.

Clorinde's fists clenched and her breathing grew harsh and difficult, unable to accept your inhumane gaze.

"Is this your solution, (Y/n)?"

From the tone of her voice, this would not be a pleasant conversation. One wrong word, and you'll see a side of the Champion Duelist not even her court opponents knew.

You nodded.

"Yes."

"State your reason."

"Because this is the only way I'll die with dignity."

…

"Die… with dignity?"

Something inside her cracked.

"Yes." You nodded again, becoming uncertain. "At least with this, there would be something Neuvillette cannot decide for me. And (Y/n) (L/n) chooses a dignified death."

“DEATH HAS NO DIGNITY!!!” 

You and Navia flinched at the sudden sound.

Clorinde screamed, feeling her eyes burn. Her veins became more prominent in her face and her skin reddish. The sheer force of her scream was enough to bring your full attention to her, yet to the duelist, her uncharacteristic outburst meant nothing.

“DEATH WILL ALWAYS BE UGLY!!! DEATH– DEATH IS NEVER BEAUTIFUL!!! IT IS ALWAYS SINISTER— LOATHSOME AND VILE.”

"Clor—"

She pulled you by your collar.

“There– there is only dignity in living.” She trembled, casting her gaze down. “You can live with dignity– but you can’t die with it.”

For a while, only her unsteady breathing could be heard.

Clorinde eventually calmed down, her heavy sighs and frantic pants slowing as the red hue of her face somewhat returned to its usual pale complexion. She couldn’t afford a second more to process her growing grief.

"Find another duelist."

As a successor to the Marechaussee Hunters, there's no one else you need but her.

"But I want you."

"(Y/n)."

"You've always been my idol, Clorinde." You told her solemnly. "I always thought you at least made my clients have a clean death under your blade."

Clorinde paused.

That, she cannot deny. 

She did spare mercy to the people you defended. But she doesn't understand how you fail to comprehend why she couldn't bear to bring herself to enact the same reprieve for you.

"Retrieve your gloves. I don't and I won't accept your challenge." Clorinde closed her eyes. "Live your days in the Fortress instead. Death is not the solution."

You laughed. As if you'd let yourself be under Wriothesley's guidance when you can smell from miles away that he's one of Neuvillette's lap dogs.

"Isn't this suffering enough?" You spoke with a casual lack of self-preservation. "I don't want to live under Neuvillette's scrutinizing eyes. Not anymore."

You looked up.

That empty smile was no longer on your face.

And that was somehow more frightening than it should be.

"So do your job as a champion and end it all, just like what you've done to Uncle Callas and the others."

Your last conversation with the Duke was not as memorable as when he caught you spiking the Iudex’s cup, yet you’d give his personality credit where it is due. His was certainly a memorable one.

Wriothesley stood a few steps away from the bars while you purposefully cornered yourself. The distance was noticeable. It was clear that neither of you was close to each other. This was mere formality brought about by one of your should’ve-been victims.

“So, you sure don’t want to be roommates?” Wriothesley asked. "Or you know, see old friends and family down there?"

"I'd rather not disappoint them with my presence."

“So, you're a coward?" He asked, intending to provoke you.

"Maybe?" you answered, mimicking his tone. "Wouldn't know. Last time I checked, I was an honorable defense attorney. But suddenly, the Iudex had a change of heart."

"Neuvillette didn't have a change of heart. You are a terrorist."

You laughed sardonically, "suppose so."

You both weren't entirely wrong. Friends and foe alike know you've turned to rebellion after the justice system had failed you repeatedly. Neuvillette's lovestruck fixation was merely the final straw.

“You’re walking on a death sentence.”

“No shit,” you clicked your tongue and continued. “What else do you think this is for?”

“The Iudex was convinced that you’re acting out because you had a guilty conscience, and he’s very willing to drop those charges and forgive you.”

“Guilty conscience?! HA!!!” You laughed. “As if I felt guilty for what I’ve done. If anything, I’m rejoicing.”

Wriothesley smirked, but it faded quickly.

“I told him the same, but then he says if that were true, you’re probably just masking it to play the villain’s part.”

“Do you believe every word he says?”

“No,” Wriothesley did not hesitate to answer. “I know a criminal when I see one. And I also know when a criminal can get away with their mess.”

“The jury thinks otherwise– the oratrice cannot be wrong.” You snickered. “I’m as guilty as they come, hands filled with arsenic and all.”

"You can still get out of this. Sure, you'll get a stern talking-to— a lecture on the virtue of honor and respect. But in the end, he'd give you a second chance. He's still hoping that a mutual agreement will arise in the end."

You expressed your disinterest with a droopy-eyed “Blah, blah, blah…”

Wriothesley frowned.

“You’ll make him depressed.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“And you think I care? Fontaine can flood next month. Just as long as I die tomorrow it’s none of my business.”

…

“Well, it’s your call,” Wriothesley said. “If you’re willing to throw your life away like that, then you probably wouldn’t survive a week underwater.”

He wrapped a hand around one of the bars.

“You know, (Y/n),” the Duke looked at you dead in the eye. “Marriage with the Iudex isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

You laughed.

“What makes you say that?” You smiled through gritted teeth. “Are you his second spouse?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You could’ve just lived a bit more silently.”

You glared. 

“Are you saying I should live like a caged bird? That I should accept that our system here is rigged?”

“I’m saying you should’ve been more grateful with what you have.”

You scoffed.

“Wow.”

An awkward silence followed after. It wasn’t as if a quip was hard to form– but the historical context behind whom you were speaking to made weighing empathy over spite a challenge. You knew of his past, his name or lack thereof, and quiet allegiance to Neuvillette. Sigewinne had made sure you knew of it to glorify the adoptive “father” of the Melusines. Wriothesley owes him his survival.

But "Wriothesley" of all people should've known that those who know morbid truths cannot be silenced forever. 

And Neuvillette owes you a peaceful death. 

… The Duke sighed, noticing that his admiration for the Iudex did not align with his current morals.

“We’ll forever agree to disagree on this, won’t we?” He asked.

“Hopefully not forever, I don’t want to stay here for much longer.”

Wriothesley chuckled at your morbid joke. But before he could walk away with a less-than-heavy heart, you shifted from your corner.

“Hey, Wriothesley?”

He turned to look at you– your hand specifically.

It’s a letter.

“Mind handing these to the authorities?”

Wriothesley’s eyes widened.

“Is that–”

“It’s a written confession,” you chuckled. “Don’t ask me how I got a pen and paper. I know that damn bastard forbids anyone to lend me anything that’ll help me write a final will. Gotta say, at least his etiquette lessons had some use. At least my last words are in pretty cursive.”

He didn’t say another word. 

…

The Duke left the room, empty-handed.

…

No one wants to see the Iudex more heartbroken than he already is now.

The interrogation room was small, but not to the point that there was a minimal budget for its construction. You sat on one end behind the glass divider after one of the guards took your letter. There were only plain walls and two lightbulbs on the ceiling. At the center of the room is a table with two chairs on either side, no pen or paper. 

Nothing but an empty table. 

But the quiet comfort was gone when the man of the hour closed the door behind him. As the ticking of the clock becomes more softer, the two individuals would be forced to sit for the duration of this “interrogation.”

It was none other than your husband, the Iudex, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and the bane of your existence.

Monsieur Neuvillette.

His back was straight; his eyes, “stern” and focused. He clasped his hands together, fingers intertwined. His gaze searched for something— regret, remorse, anything that could make the upcoming nightmare disappear. 

Neuvillette's voice was “calm” and “collected.” 

But you didn’t buy it. Not with his messy hair, his forlorn look, his frown. You rarely saw him cry. You had a gut feeling he hides it by standing amidst heavy rain, but this time the redness of his eyes and puffiness of his cheeks says it all.

It’s a heavy downpour outside. 

He can’t be bothered to hide his tears from the public eye anymore.

"In your own words, please explain why you had attempted to poison me."

Your eyes lit up. He immediately wished he could take those words back. 

So, he’s still in denial. Neuvillette seriously didn’t think you wrote the letter. He probably didn’t think it was your handwriting. It was almost insulting.

“Oh, Monsieur! You are as generous as they say, finally letting your spouse speak for themselves!” You grinned sarcastically. “And they say chivalry is dead! DEAD!!!”

He cringed at your pointed enthusiasm.

You recount the day you attempted to murder him, describing how you had slipped the poison into his favorite cup. How you didn’t really care to hope it wouldn’t be noticed since what mattered more to you was his death over your own freedom. The more detailed you became, the more it suffocated him.

“But, as you can see, you’re alive and I am behind this glass window,” you tapped the divider. “Away from you, at last.”

He bit his lip.

“(Y/n)—”

“I hate you.”

He breathed in shakily.

“I know.”

“And yet you still fell for it.” Your voice suddenly softened. 

“Why?” You continued. “Why did you believe my act for the past month? I know you had your suspicions, so why? You knew I was just playing along to get your guard down– to act like some loving housewife so I can find the opportunity to smother you with a pillow– so… why?”

“Maybe…”

Neuvillette took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’s because dying by your hands would be a dignified way to go.”

Your eyes widened. The air turned to glue. Breathing became a challenge.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. Monsieur Neuvillette was serious. No shifting position can make you feel comfortable. 

Because Neuvillette in his most sincere form of speech is the most brutal.

“I just wished to be loved by y-you,” his voice cracked. “Even for a moment, even for a lie, I would die to know I was loved by you.”

His face crumpled, tears flowing freely. He reached a hand out against the glass window, his palm marking the divider. Neuvillette was breathing erratically, desperate to hold you. The pain in his chest was getting heavier, much like the rain outside. You almost couldn’t hear him from all the background noise, and you wished that was what happened. 

This was the man who took your clients' happiness. The man who took Uncle Callas away with his rationale. The reason for your unhappiness.

And yet, you couldn't think of any other person who would love you as much as he does. 

“Y-You know me for who I-I am,” he gasped out. “I am but a weak and beaten down man w-who couldn’t express himself like a human being. Y-You were there, you comforted me with not a smile, an umbrella, or thoughtless words of encouragement— you accepted me for who I was with a warm embrace.” 

You hated it. 

You hate how your heart ached for the man that made your life a living hell.

“I was the leader of the Revolution and I needed intel against you, nothing more.” You spat. This time, you were the least convincing one. “It was an act of kindness I shouldn’t have done.”

“Yet it has helped me more than you had accounted for.”

“And never before have I ever regretted playing savior.”

“I was merely attempting to reform your life,” Neuvillette breathlessly spoke. “I wished to set you on the right path. You were a gifted individual with great connections. Your peers had high expectations of you. For you to throw that away for nonsense activism— no— terrorism is heartbreaking. And I—”

Neuvillette gulped.

“I didn’t want to face you on the other side of the courtroom.”

You laughed.

“Some things are just fated to happen,” you said. “An old astrologist told me that. She told me I was bound to get myself in deep legal trouble. Growing up, I figured it might as well be a cause worth doing if it’ll lead me to that path eventually. Why else did I become a defense attorney in such a hellishly political land?”

He trembled, tears falling at a faster rate.

You almost wanted to reach out and wipe those tears away.

Almost.

“Must you treat your life as though it is disposable?” Neuvillette asked, choking slightly. “Why are you…”

You digressed. “You’re not going to retract those charges are you?”

“I did.”

You frowned.

“But Lady Furina would not allow it,” he shook, frustrated. “She found out about your past, your hatred for her so-called incompetences and published lese-majestes.”

“Good for her, good for her.”

Neuvillette’s hand slowly slid down.

“I can’t… I cannot watch this…”

You felt a surge of confidence, for Neuvillette was indeed devoid of hope. You've never seen him with his head hung low. What went through Neuvillette's mind remained uncertain. Perhaps, just a small piece of him knew you could never be his. Perhaps he knew that you were destined for a doomed fate.

But it doesn't matter. 

All that mattered was that you were free.

That was a month ago.

The rain had been going on nonstop for thirty days, and the Hydro Archon had every right to worry. 

“I can’t sleep…” Neuvillette thought he spoke out loud, but it was just a whisper. He’s growing weak, his sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“Then come lay your head down,” she yawned slightly, fanning her breath. “Such heavy thoughts need a place to rest.”

“An irresistible offer,” Neuvillette mused humorlessly. “But I must decline.”

“Oh Neuvillette, when will you relax from this role you carry?” The archon spoke rhetorically.

Neuvillette chuckled sadly.

The heavy downpour wouldn’t stop. 

Perhaps…

Perhaps when the day comes and he is stripped of dignity.

Maybe then, he’ll have his rest.

Neuvillette had already forgotten why he was crying that fateful day. But in those memories, he recalls he was callow and unformed. Was it due to an unfavorable trial? The problem evades him. His recollection remains only in how the people reacted around him. Many asked if he was okay and he'd reply with a simple "I'm fine". And he was, until he could no longer convince himself with that lie. He was certain he was about to dip his toes in another cycle of nihilism.

And then you came.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?”

The rain was pouring out in the cemetery. You were there; your presence questionable. He knew that you arrived intending to probe whether or not he was a sovereign dragon, but he gave you the nod of acknowledgment.

“Greetings, Mx. (Y/n),” he answered, “I trust you’ve been well? Is there a person whom you’re visiting?”

He asked in sheer politeness despite knowing your motivations.

“...”

You frowned.

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long have you been carrying that loneliness, Monsieur?” You asked, voice louder. “How long?”

His lip quivered.

“Centuries, perhaps,” the Iudex thought he could pass it off as a light joke to catch you off-guard, but it came off as too sincere. “I do not keep track.”

You cautiously and awkwardly approached Neuvillette, and without a word, wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace.

Just like what Uncle Callas had done for you before.

Your existence here was anathema and your words were seditious. His initial reaction was to resist because he knew you were just like Vautrin. He knew you were secretly seeking vengeance because the oratrice unfavorably judged numerous friends and family.

But he needed it. He needed this badly.

It was then that the Iudex decided that he needed you. That he will keep you.

Neuvillette cannot handle another Vautrin— he can't handle another Carole. So, he'll do it right this time. He'll keep you safe, from your illegal associations and even from yourself. 

And it was a selfish yet necessary need.

A lump formed in his throat as a tear fell, trickling down his cheek slowly. He allowed himself to melt in your hug, trembling. 

“You’re going to need all the hugs you can get if you’re planning to stay as Iudex for centuries more,” you whispered. “You’re resilient, but in this world, that solitary resilience won’t be enough, won’t it?”

Unable to maintain his stoic facade any longer, Neuvillette gripped you tighter in that embrace, his vulnerability finally resurfacing physically rather than Fontaine's rains. Surprised by his sudden tirade of sobs, you embraced him with all the warmth you could muster. At that moment, you had an epiphany. Despite the enmity of their positions, they were the same. Both of you were victims of a nation that demanded more in your assigned roles than you could bear.

“If you'd let me, I'll be the person you’d come to if you ever need a hug.” You weren’t sure if you said it as a devious plan or an act of empathy. “I wouldn’t mind. Not at all.”

You've made yourself important to him now. 

Neuvillette cannot lose you too.

As he clung to the solace you inadvertently provided, you can't help but wish you never extended that small comfort months later. Every inch given could be exploited, and when you offered him a shred of empathy, he had seized it and turned it into a mile-long advantage. The vulnerability shared in that hug was the dangerous crack in the sword you've worked so hard to maintain.

And so, when the time came you faced Champion Duelist Clorinde with it, the gaps broke the sword completely and with its death came soon the end of your life.

She was right. There is no dignity in dying with a broken hilt.

But there was peace.

And as much as you hated Neuvillette, you wish he’d have it too.

"I've made it this far, and all I've ever done was in accordance with what fate and others wanted of me. In my demise, let me do something for myself." “After all, I’ve learned from watching Uncle Callas when he fought Champion Duelist Clorinde— an encounter I’ll surely experience in the next few days— that there is beauty in the end. In his last moments, my much younger self saw what expression he wore.” “He was content. The most content I had ever seen in someone's face.” “It was then that I had an epiphany. One that I hope my “husband” Neuvillette will remember, and I care not if it will bring him comfort or pain.” “What I learned was simple:” “Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.”

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added on the other three fics!): @ayadikreino @kireeen, @pebblemacaroon, @thelostpanta, @vennnnn-diagram, @sagekun, @vadelma-yatta, @detectivei @sugarplumcutiepie @sunhareskies @dxprived4-starboys @unloadingdata @harmonysanreads (amen.) @atomicsoulhumanspy @sangoqueenkoko @pix-stuff @dilucragnidvr 

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #yandere #male yandere #yanderecore #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scenarios

[thatacotargirl]

Shadows and Surprises (1)

This is Part 1 of an Azriel x Reader fanfic - I hope you enjoy! PS. future chapters will be longer, this is just a short introduction to the story.

This is set after A Court of Thorns and Roses but is several months after Under the Mountain. Some creative liberties are taken with timing to help the plot fit together!

Summary: Azriel meets y/n at Rita's and spends a single night of passion with you before heading your separate ways. Only, the Mother had different ideas.

Azriel POV

4 months earlier

Azriel woke with a start, and a searing headache. A night well spent at Rita's meant he had found himself scorchingly drunk and waking in the bed of an unknown female's home. He swore to himself as he rose from the bed, holding his head with his palm and pausing to breathe away the nausea. When he finally cracked his eyes open, he found the bed empty and, after laying a hand on the left side, discovered it was cold. Whoever had brought Azriel to their bed had decided to not stay for the morning. He decided not to overstay his welcome and clambered out of the bed, slowly, gathering up his clothes and pausing every so often to take big gulps of air in an attempt to not hurl on himself. After locating everything except his left shoe, he walked through the house to find the front door and make his big exit - but not before his eyes came across a glass of water, a hangover tonic, and a post-it note on the kitchen island. He picked up the post-it, which read "had to dash - thanks for a great night!", swallowed the tonic, and headed out the door before taking to the skies for a slow flight home.

Present day

"Why do I have to go?" gruffed Cassian, pushing a spoon around in his porridge, "I can barely bring myself up to the roof for training after the session I had yesterday".

"Yes, well, whose fault is that for sparring against Azriel when you knew you were still recovering from getting pelted at with arrows last week?" Mor retorted.

Cassian glared across the table, and flicked his spoon in Mor's direction, a dollop of porridge flying across the table and landing neatly on Mor's light blue top. She squealed in frustration, scooping off the porridge and hurling it back at Cassian, before stepping from the table and heading back to her room to change. Cassian laughed and continued eating his breakfast, the dollop of porridge which landed back on his side of the table included.

"I'll go", offered Azriel, making to stand from the table. "I don't mind heading into Velaris today anyway, I could do with one of those blueberry buns they sell in the little bakery on the Rainbow". Azriel thanked the House with a silent nod as his breakfast dishes vanished, and walked to the door of the dining room.

"Don't forget a chocolate marble sponge slice for me!" Cassian called from the table as he watched Azriel leave.

-

Azriel stopped by the bakery, picking up a blueberry bun, a chocolate marble sponge slice, and a small box of cupcakes to share with the rest of the Inner Circle tonight. He then made his way along to the Apothecary where he needed to pick up Rhysand's order of extra medical supplies, in the event that they ever needed them at the House. Given how prone Azriel and Cassian were to getting injured, or injuring themselves, they had gone through almost all the bandages and creams they had in just a few short weeks. Azriel shook his head, smiling to himself as he replayed memories in his mind of sparring with Cassian and taking him to the ground.

Azriel walked into the Apothecary, the bell dinging above the door, and stood to the right to let a young fae male exit - his hands gripping so tightly on his tonic Azriel thought he was likely to break the glass bottle before he got it home. He could hear Madja speaking behind the beaded curtain to someone, so waited near the door, gazing at all the bottles and vials that filled the shelves of the Apothecary from floor to ceiling. How Madja remembered what each tonic did, he would never know.

His gaze turned as he saw a female back out of the beaded curtains, still in deep conversation with Madja. Madja glanced at Azriel over the female's shoulder, a brief smile on her face, before returning the female in front of her.

"Take this tonic up to three times a day as you need it, you'll find it really helps. If you feel you need to take it more often, please pop back in and we will try to adjust the formula for you" Madja advised the female, handing over a bottle of red liquid.

"Thank you, Madja, I really appreciate it".

Azriel froze, recognising the female's voice instantly. It was the female he had met at Rita's 4 months ago whilst out with the Inner Circle, the one he had bedded and not seen again. Part of him wanted to flee, not sure how he could handle facing you again after that night and the 4 months of silence, especially in Madja's presence, but the other part of him wanted to stay rooted to the spot and see your face again, your smile, make you laugh one more time. His shadows coiled around his shoulders, making excited zigzags around his head, and he decided in that moment that he wanted nothing more than to stay, even if just to smile at you, and let you know how much that night had meant to him if only for the few hours.

The female turned to leave, eyes widening in shock when she saw Azriel standing in the Apothecary. Azriel felt your tension, your panic, and took a step forward to try and help, offer something, anything to calm you in that moment. But he stopped. His eyes roamed, following your shaking hands, and landed on your abdomen. Eyes wide, his bag of baked goods fell to the floor as he stared at you; because at your abdomen he saw a small, but unmistakable, baby bump.

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #acotar fanfiction

[pandoraslxna]

Lo‘ak x female omatikaya reader x Spider

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: explicit smut, cuckolding, oral, masturbation, edge play, teasing, friends with benefits

Its Lo‘ak who suggests it, because of course it is.

His eyes send a shiver down your spine that isn’t the same you get when you’re alone with him. Because that hot mouth that nibbles lightly along your pulse point isn’t his. But the eyes that are staring at you from the seat across the bed are.

Lo‘aks grin is dangerous and he licks his lips as he watches his best friends hand run along your body, the other holding an almost vice-like grip on your thigh to keep you spread. The shiver runs like cool water, and you want so badly to be able to cant your hips up against the stimulation, to let go and just come.

But there's an obvious dynamic here.

Spider is allowed to give; give as much as he wants, as much as he physically can. And while you’re allowed to take, take everything he has to offer to satisfy your curiosity in the human man, you’re not allowed to come unless it’s on Lo‘aks command.

The hand on your thigh moves under your ass and over towards your cunt and Lo‘ak chuckles at your squeak when Spider slides three fingers in slowly, letting you feel the stretch.

"F-Fuck, oh fuck Spider, please!"

Spiders mouth makes an obscene popping noise as he pulls away from your throat and you know for sure that it‘ll bruise. "C’mon bro, you heard her", Spider laughs, glancing up at Lo‘ak to check for any sign of mercy. "Let the poor thing come, she’s so wet she’s making a mess on my sheets."

"Not a chance", he responds with a slow shake of his head. His fangs peek out from under his lip, pointy canine poking his bottom lip as he bites on it, completely lost in the sight of you. His cock is hard and heavy in his hand and he gives it a lazy tug, squeezing to tip until pre-cum beads at the slit.

Spider shrugs and with that, he sets back to work, his head now disappearing between your thighs.

He’s focusing more on your clit now. The suction makes your legs shake and the fingers inside you twist the pleasure towards what could be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.

Spiders moans vibrate against your clit, muffled words of praise over your delicious taste cause you to arch your back some more, forcing him to smudge his face harder against you.

His three fingertips hook upwards and you groan through gritted teeth, not trusting yourself with words. Of course, Lo‘ak notices.

"Don’t want to beg anymore, is that what it is, baby?" He laughs. "You begged so nice for him earlier. C‘mon, let me hear you. Maybe I’ll finally give you what you want."

You burn bright as he points out the obvious, flush spreading down your chest. "Just– Just fuck me, please. One of you, I don’t care, just please. I need to come so bad", you whine and squirm.

Spider chuckles. The thrusting of his fingers continues after a moment, harder, but still too slow.

"I always liked your little princess attitude." The blonde leans in to nip at your inner thigh. "God, I can’t wait to break you in." Then he glances over to Lo‘ak. "Can I?"

"Not yet, bro." His words make a shudder run down your spine and you groan in frustration.

"Lo’ak p-please, I- I can’t, I need to–" Your words are cut off by a moan when Spider closes his lips around you clit again and sucks, his fingers simultaneously thrusting in and out of your clenching hole.

"Shh, it’s okay", Lo’ak tells you, "You can hold it a little while longer, can’t you?" You frantically shake your head, hands clawing at Spiders dreads as you begin to grind your pussy against his face. "Thought you wanted to show Spider how good you can be, hm?"

"Yes, it’s- it’s just–" You struggle to find the right words, let alone concentrate enough to even know what you were trying to say, because the other man’s tongue swirls around your sensitive little nub and his thick digits nudge against that sponged spot deep inside you that makes you gasp a moan.

Lo‘ak gives a tight stroke to his cock, feeling it throb in his palm as he watches the scene unfold before him. He can tell that you’re close and no obedience in the world could keep you from coming on his best friends fingers if he didn’t intervene soon.

"Okay bro", he says and even though Spider rolls his eyes over the fact that he has to separate his lips from such a delicious meal, he doesn’t hesitate to lift his head back up, kissing your clit a final goodbye. "Why don’t you get on top and ride him, how’s that sound?" Lo‘ak then suggests you, making Spider grin as he leans back to eye your reaction. "If you can make yourself come, then I won’t hold you back."

You exhale a shaky breath and nod. Looking over your shoulders you meet Lo‘aks gaze, before it drops down to where his cock visibly pulsates in his hand. His balls are drawn tight, the tip a dark purple and you can’t help but swallow the salvia that pools in your mouth.

"Go ahead, baby", he tells you with a wink. "If you put on a nice show for me, I might even join you later."

#avatarmatingseason #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #Lo’ak #loak #atwow loak #loak sully #avatar loak #lo’ak x female reader #lo’ak x reader #loak x female reader #loak x female reader smut #spider x reader #spider x y/n #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #miles smut

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3658

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

3. Cream filled Sponge Cakes (with chemicals)

Bucky

They plan out what they’re going to do when they get to the hospital on the car ride over.

“I think it’s best if you wait outside at first,” Bucky says, glancing away from the road for a second to try and gauge Steve’s reaction to this. He looks neutral. “Just because she’s already pissed,” he adds. “And it’ll probably be overwhelming having one person telling her they’re taking custody, let alone two.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “That makes sense.”

Bucky holds his hand out over the center console, waiting for Steve to take it. He does, and Bucky grips his hand tight. “I’ll get the initial stuff out of the way. I’m sure there’s gonna be a ton of paperwork.”

“What if she refuses?” Steve worries. “She can, right?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t have any legal hold on her. Yet. I’ll just have to try and talk sense into her, get her to see that we’re better than the alternative.”

Steve gives his hand a squeeze back. “You can do it.”

Bucky sighs. “I hope so. I really do.” Inside though, he’s already not so sure.

They get to the hospital about forty-five minutes after Bucky’d hung up from the phone call with the police officer. He spots a cruiser parked outside when they approach the emergency room, and it rankles his nerves to think of Mary being forcibly shoved into the back seat of said car.

He goes to the check in desk with Steve and asks for Officer Santiago. “I got a call about an involuntary hold. My submissive,” he says. 

The woman at the desk does a double take at that, looking up and down Bucky where he stands like she’s just realized he’s a different species. “Oh,” she says. “You're one of those?” 

Bucky ignores it, but he can sense Steve tensing up by his side, indignant on his behalf. “Yes,” he says. “I am.” He’s not going to waste time getting on his spiel about mental illness and stigmatization. They’ve got bigger problems right now. “I’m going to need her records,” he says, injecting authority into his tone. “And any paperwork for transfer of custody. The cops brought her in. Name’s Mary.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to look self-assured while he waits, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the woman demands a last name.

It takes her several minutes to gather everything up for Bucky. She hands it all over to him and says, “That’s the paperwork for custody. The attending physician should be able to provide you with her medical workup.” She points to a set of double doors. “You go down that hallway and to the left. Bed number four.”

Bucky nods and thanks her, then turns to Steve.

“I know,” Steve says, putting on a brave smile. “I’ll wait here.”

“Baby.” Bucky steps close, pulling him into his arms. Steve’s physically just a little bigger than him, and Bucky has always liked the novelty of that. He kisses him gently and then rests their foreheads together for a moment, letting Steve feel their connection. “I love you,” he says quietly. “You’re the best thing I could ever hope for, you know that?”

Steve’s smile is more natural, now. “Yeah I know it.” He gives Bucky another kiss and stands back. “Hey, what about this?” He knocks on Bucky’s shoulder—the metal one. “She know about that?”

Bucky realizes that he’s not wearing his glove, and tries to remember if he’d had it on at the café. He frowns. “Oh well. I don’t think that’s going to be her main focus, not after I explain everything to her.”

“Yeah.” Steve gives him a light push. “I Love you. Now on and get the hard part over with. I’ll be here when you need me.” 

Bucky nods. He knows he will. He goes back to the check in desk, one last question on his mind. “Is there a food court or something around here?”

Mary

Mary’s taken a break from saying pissy things to the cop who’s guarding her. She’s been so angry, she’s felt like her skin’s boiling. But now she’s starting to get tired, too. She hadn’t slept last night, just stayed up and gabbed on the phone to that crisis counselor. 

She grits her teeth as she fumes about that, feeling betrayed all over again. That bitch had called the cops on her!

“You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

Liar!

“I hope you know I don’t have insurance,” Mary snaps at the officer. He’s sitting in a chair in her little curtained off area. He regards her coolly, saying nothing, and she jerks her head to indicate the emergency room. “And I’m not paying a single red cent for any of this.” So far, they’ve taken her blood, her pulse, an EKG, and sent in nurses, a resident, and several shrinks. They’d tried to put an IV in her but she’d ripped it out as soon as nobody was looking. “I’m suing the hospital,” she adds. “And you. I’m suing the whole police department.”

“Okay,” Santiago says, annoyingly calm.

Mary growls, rattling her hand where it’s cuffed to the bed rail. “This is unconstitutional!”

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and then the curtain to their area is being pulled aside. Mary’s eyes go wide when she sees who it is. “You?!”

Bucky smiles politely at her. “Me.” He steps into the curtained room, a little snack bag in his hand. He holds it up to show her, and she sees the Hostess logo. It’s a bag of little … sponge cake pastries. “Best I could do on such short notice. They’re for you, if you behave,” he says, talking to her like a pet being offered a treat.

Mary wrinkles her nose. “Pass. D’you even know all the chemicals they put in those things?”

Bucky shrugs and turns to offer them to officer Santiago, who more than happily accepts. Mary pouts as she watches him rip open the bag and stuff one in his mouth.

“How are you doing, Mary?”

She turns her attention to Bucky and scowls at the way he uses her name like he knows her. “Awful,” she says. She jerks her head at Santiago. “Officer Dickwad over here won’t let me have my phone.”

“Language,” Santiago says dispassionately, through a mouthful of cake. 

“Shut up and eat your fucking donut, Rent’a’cop.”

Bucky

He puts his foot down once she starts flinging curses and insults at the officer. As a paramedic, Steve is always in and out of emergency rooms, often working in coordination with law enforcement to deal with uncooperative patients. So Bucky knows just how much drama and belligerence these guys have to deal with on the regular. 

“Hey,” he says sternly. “Don’t disrespect him. He’s just doing his job.” He’s not mean about it, but it’s verging on what Steve likes to call his “Dom” voice, and Bucky can see how it affects Mary. She freezes up, all of her focus on him. For a few seconds, she even forgets to be angry. Bucky takes the opportunity to step close to the bed. He eyes where she’s cuffed to the rail. “Mary,” he says gently. “I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re angry.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she growls. “They just showed up and threw me in a cop car! Didn’t even give me a choice!”

Bucky reaches out and places his hand atop her cuffed wrist. It’s his metal hand. Her eyes widen when she sees it, but she doesn’t pull away. “I know,” Bucky says. “And I’m sorry it happened that way. But do you understand why people were concerned for your safety?”

Her face tenses up as she tries to hold back some emotion (something tells Bucky it isn’t anger, this time). “They called the cops,” she pouts. “They lied to me.”

“They did,” Bucky agrees, wanting to placate her. “But you were hurting yourself, honey. And you were talking about doing worse, weren’t you?”

She can’t meet his eyes, instead staring at where he’s holding her wrist. “I … I talked about a lot of things,” she mumbles. “It was just talk. I don't even remember half of it. I didn’t … I wasn’t really gonna do anything.”

“Can you show me where you hurt yourself?” Bucky asks, careful to keep his voice gentle. “I want to see how bad it is.”

Mary shivers, shaking her head sadly. Her hair is loose and hanging messy around her face, so Bucky reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. He hears her give a quiet, shaky inhale. “Come on now,” he coaxes. “Let me see.”

For a long moment, it seems like she won’t obey, but then her shoulders sink down and she takes a deep breath and lets it out, whispering a tiny little. “... kay,” as her hands creep down to take hold of the tee shirt she’s wearing. It’s extra large, going all the way to her knees, and it’s all she’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t know if the police brought her in that way, or if it’s something the hospital gave her to put on after being examined, but either way, he schools his expression as she edges the tee shirt up her leg, higher and higher, until it becomes apparent that she is wearing underwear, and she’s bared her hip to him.

Cutting, then.

Bucky looks her over, not as upset by the fresh cuts so much as the old ones. They litter the skin of her upper thigh and hip—some so old they’re scars, some still in various stages of healing. Bucky forces himself not to touch, even though his brain is screaming at him to fix fix fix! There’s nothing here that can be fixed easily—certainly not with a bandaid. Bucky takes a moment to calm himself down before he asks, “How long have you been doing this, honey?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She shoves the tee shirt back down and meets his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Moment of truth, Bucky thinks. “The police called me. They got my number from your phone. They wanted to call your Dom to come get you.”

She frowns, looking confused. “But … you’re not—”

“Officer Santiago,” Bucky says quickly, cutting her off. “Could you give us a moment alone please?”

“Sure.” Santiago gets up and takes his bag of cakes with him. “Just a couple’a minutes,” he warns, then steps outside the curtain and pulls it shut. Bucky can see as his shoes walk away.

“You told them you were my Dom?!” Mary hisses.

Bucky looks at her sternly. “No. They assumed I was. You had me in your phone.”

“I … I did?”

Bucky’s mouth quirks. “Yeah, you did.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” she huffs. “I’m not even submissive.”

“I think you know that’s not true,” Bucky says. He reaches up and gathers her hair back in one fist and pulls—gently, just enough to put the barest of pressure on her scalp—forcing her to raise her chin. She visibly reacts to it, softening into his grip, eyes slipping closed and features going slack. “You like that,” Bucky says, making it a statement rather than a question, because it’s obvious she does.

Her eyes open slowly. “S’nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He releases her hair, cupping the back of her neck instead. He grips her firmly in his hand, and this time she nearly moans, lips parting and the sound coming out before she can fully stifle it. Bucky’s mouth curls and he hums. “And that? Is that ‘nothing’ too?”

“Please.” She’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact, which is typical. There’s a little pinch between her eyebrows that’s so sweet and needy, Bucky wants to kiss it. It makes her look like she might cry, and that thrills him too. “Please,” she whispers. “I just wanna go home.”

“You’re not going home, Honey,” he tells her, keeping the grip on her neck steady and petting at her hair with his other hand. She’s going down a little, likely so easily because of the alcohol in her system, because of how deprived she’s been until now. She whines a little at his words and he shushes her. “They won’t let you. You’re either gonna have to let me take you, or else stay here in the hospital, in the psych ward.”

Mary whimpers. “No.”

“Shhh,” he soothes. “I know. I don’t want that for you either, but you have to make the choice. If you want to leave here, then you have to sign the paperwork that gives me custody of you.” He tilts her chin up. “Look at me now, Honey.” She’s sluggish, so it takes a second, but her eyes come up as she obeys. They’re a little glossy, pupils blown wide, and Bucky gives her neck an encouraging squeeze. “Good girl,” he praises.

She practically melts at hearing that. “Please …” she says again. 

Bucky would bet money that she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. He does, though. He knows down to the marrow of his bones what a ‘please’ like that means. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll take care of you. I will.” He bends and pecks a kiss to her forehead, then steps away. She makes a weak noise of protest and he shushes her. 

“I’m just gonna go get officer Santiago back. … And my husband, Steve.”

She blinks at the word ‘husband’. “Steve?” she repeats, shoulders shrinking as she pulls into herself. “But—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky promises. “He’s a very nice man. You’ll like him.”

Mary looks unsure. Bucky’s glad she’s down, otherwise he’s fairly certain she’d be arguing by now, maybe even pitching a fit and cursing. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is a hesitant little, “... He’s like you?” 

“No. No he’s not designated. He’s—”

“Normal.” She says it so sadly, sounds so demoralized. Bucky has to fight the urge to correct her, to give her a speech about how, ‘just because they’re designated, it doesn’t make them abnormal’. He bites his tongue. What’s more important right now is that she’s making progress in accepting the reality that she’s almost certainly submissive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Steve’s not like us. But I wanted him to come in here and meet you. Do you think you can do that for me, Sweetie?” The pet names come naturally, are a part of his dynamic as a Dom, and Bucky can tell that she responds favorably to them. “Hm? Answer me, Mary.”

(And of course, the use of her name gets instant attention and obedience.)

“Okay,” she says. “Yes.”

He smiles and gives her a heartfelt, “Good girl,” wanting to show her that he’s pleased, that she’s doing well. “I’m gonna go get him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve

Steve is equal parts excited and nervous to meet the woman Bucky has found, the woman they’re going to be taking care of. … Maybe more, if things work out. 

He holds Bucky’s hand as he’s led back to where the emergency room beds are. Bucky draws back the curtain and Steve sees the cop sitting there, looking bored, … and her.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Hey.”

She’s pretty—which is saying a lot, because that’s Steve’s first thought, despite the state of her. She’s got goo gobs of dark eye makeup that it looks like she put on once she was already drunk, and by now it’s been smeared to kingdom come by tears and her own hands. Her hair sits messy and unbrushed around her shoulders, and her eyes are glazed and tired from a high that’s probably going to wear off soon and leave her looking even more exhausted than she already does. 

“Hey,” Steve says, eyes flicking up and down her body where she’s sitting on the bed. She’s wearing nothing but a big tee shirt, and Steve allows himself one glance down at her shapely legs, then resolutely keeps his eyes trained upwards. She’s a disheveled mess, but even like that, Steve can see how she drew Bucky’s attention, that day in the café.

“Hi,” Mary says.

Steve smiles hopefully. By his side, Bucky squeezes his hand in encouragement, and offers, “Mary, this is Steve, my husband.”

Steve watches her face, curious to know what she thinks of Bucky being married. He’s expecting displeasure maybe, imagining that a submissive would feel jealous or upset, if their prospective Dom was already attached to someone else.

But she seems to stay calm, sitting there and taking Steve in with slow blinks, even looking a little bit shy herself. “... You’re big,” she eventually says. “I thought you’d be smaller than him.”

Steve grins and he hears Bucky’s scoffed, “Size has nothing to do with our dynamic.”

Steve knows he’s got half an inch on Bucky, more muscle mass too, but he’s never felt bigger than his husband. Bucky’s personality, his dominance, is larger than Steve.

Mary’s still staring at him, a thoughtful little pinch between her eyebrows. Steve waits in expectation of a question, but none comes. “What?” he asks. He pulls up the room’s extra plastic chair and sits close to the bed, offering her his hand. He’s surprised when she takes it. Steve stares thoughtfully at his hand as she drags her fingers over his fingers, his palm, still not saying anything. He looks over at Bucky, concerned. “Did they give her drugs?”

Thankfully, Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “She’s down,” he explains.

Oh. Okay. That’d explain her calm affect. Steve had come in here halfway expecting a screaming hellcat. He hadn’t expected this. He turns back to Mary, giving her a friendly look. “Did you have questions you wanted to ask me?”

She bites her lip, clearly working something out in her head. “Bucky said you two have a ‘dynamic’.”

“He did.”

“But he said you’re normal.”

Steve’s lips thin once he figures out what she means. “We’re all normal,” he scolds. “But no, I don’t have ‘Dominant or Submissive Personality Disorder’, if that’s what you mean.” He puts sarcastic quotes around words to clearly convey his distaste for the classification. He wants her to know how ridiculous he finds it.

“Babe,” Bucky warns quietly from behind. “We’re not getting political right now, okay? Just focus on her, on what we have to do.”

“Right, sorry.” He knows that Bucky’s right, so he tries again, telling Mary, “I’m ‘normal’, but Bucky and I still have a very intimate relationship together. We’re husbands. So yeah, we’ve developed our own dynamic. When I’m with him I tend to follow his lead, so to speak.” He smiles and shrugs. “It works for us.”

Mary looks like she’s thinking this new information over. There’s a slowness to her, a dreaminess in her expressions and her reactions.Steve figures it’s a combination of her being down, and not being sober. In fact, he can smell the vodka leaking out of her pores. It’s actually pretty horrible. “So does that make sense?” he prods her gently. “Mary?”

“… Yeah, I think so.” She eyes him up and down, looking back and forth between him and Bucky. “What will you do?” she asks Steve. She blushes a little from asking the question, so he deduces that she’s asking what he’ll do with her; what their dynamic together will be, outside of her and Bucky.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, because that’s all he knows for sure, and he wants her to feel safe. Steve knows that it’s absolutely crucial for this woman to feel safe right now, if they’re going to take her home with them. “Bucky and I both will.” He holds her hand—the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed—enveloping it between his. “It’ll be much better than staying here,” he promises. “You’ll be so safe. And much happier.”

Mary’s body draws in, seems to actually get smaller as she pulls back into herself. “I’m never happy,” she says mournfully. It hurts Steve’s heart to see it, so he knows it must be killing Bucky, given his overly protective instincts. Steve glances over at him. “Babe?”

Bucky has a clipboard full of papers, which Steve knows must be the custody orders. “Here, Honey,” he tells Mary, handing her the clipboard and the pen. “This is what you have to sign to be able to come home with us.”

It kind of bothers Steve that Bucky doesn’t encourage her to read through the documents more thoroughly, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows they have only the best intentions for her. She’ll be safe with them. He watches as she signs her signature in the places Bucky points out, trying to scan some of the fine print as she goes. Anxiety is written across her face and she starts to bite at the chapped skin on her bottom lip. “But, um … what if I’m not what you think?” she worried, not looking at either of them. 

Bucky pets her hair and reassures her. “You are, sweetheart. Trust me. And we’re gonna take you to a therapist anyway, to get an official diagnosis.”

Normally Steve would be scoffing at the word “diagnosis,” but he’s too busy watching the two of them together. There’s a strange feeling in his gut, at seeing his husband touch Mary like that, at hearing him call her pet names and calmly take control of her. Steve’s never seen Bucky dom another person before, and he … he kind of doesn’t hate it. In fact, it’s actually making him feel all the more attracted to Bucky, and curious about Mary. Like he wants to help, wants to get to know her.

She signs the rest of the documents without making a fuss, so Steve figures he’ll be getting that chance.

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[heartateasee]

“House Call Pt. 2”

Read part one here

Kinks: Degradation, bondage, brief spanking and a bit of spitting

Word Count: 17.8K

✧✧✧

Rowan's head was tilted down, her chin tucked to her chest, as he thrusted in and out of her soaked cunt. She was draped across the bar in her kitchen, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was clutching the countertop.

"T-there," she moaned. "Right there."

Humming out in ecstasy, Rowan lifted her torso just a bit to lean her head back against his shoulder. Her head lulled to the side as she felt heart shaped lips sponging against the skin of her neck.

"That's the spot, Ro?" Harry asked, one hand wrapped around her hip with the other resting against her stomach. "I find it every time for you, don't I?"

Harry's palm smoothed its way down until it was resting against Rowan's pubic bone, and he dropped two fingers down to press the pads of them against her slick clit.

"Yes," she gasped as Harry played with her sensitive pearl.

The two of them had been sleeping with each other on and off for the past three months - almost every weekend since Rowan had booked him just for herself. Harry was actually shocked when Rowan texted him. It was only a week after they had slept together for the first time, and her message to him was so basic - just asking what he was doing.

Truth was, he had just finished stripping for a party, and was about to go to the bar for the night to meet up with some friends. Receiving that text from her made him quickly change his mind. He didn't even answer what he had been doing. He just texted back that he would be there in fifteen minutes.

Rowan slumped back against Harry completely now, her hands moving to grip to the front of his toned thighs as he continued to fuck up into her. He pinched her clit causing her to squirm a bit, nails digging into his skin.

"Open your mouth," he instructed with a tilt up of his chin.

Rowan obeyed, parting her lips for him. He gathered his saliva behind his teeth, waiting until her tongue was stretched out for him before spitting on the back of it.

"Swallow."

Again, she did as she was told, her eyes holding his as she swallowed. He smirked at her, sucking underneath her ear for a moment once he dropped his head.

"Squeezing me so tight like the little whore you are, hm?" Harry teased in her ear. "Want every last drop of me? Does that make you feel like you own me?"

The way Harry would speak to Rowan during sex turned her on even more. He knew that she liked control, she had it in every other aspect of her life, but not when it came down to this. Harry was always in control, and Rowan actually liked being submissive. She would never admit that, but Harry knew - it was so easy to tell.

But every now and then he'd let her secretly know that she did in fact own him. He hadn't slept with anyone else since this whole thing started between the two of them. When he'd go out with friends, he didn't have the urge to find a girl at the bar to take back to his bed. He was more than satisfied with what he would experience when he was with Rowan. Whether it be her cunt or her hand, he was more than happy just sleeping with her, and he could only hope that she felt the same.

"I do own you," Rowan snapped back, causing Harry to remove his hand from her hip - wrapping it around her neck instead. "You come over every time I text, don't you?"

Tonight was the only time that Harry had texted Rowan first. When he arrived at a house for a party tonight, one that had him dressing up like a Ken doll, he realized he wasn't far from Rowan at all. He took the initiative to text her before he even walked inside to start his job for the night, and he almost immediately received a response with her saying she'd be waiting for him.

Harry growled at Rowan's words, tightening his hold on her throat just a bit as her eyes slipped shut. "Not tonight though. It was me who texted first, huh?"

"Felt kind of wrong texting you considering I went on a date this evening."

Harry's thrusts ceased at her statement, and he looked down at Rowan as her eyes fluttered open.

"What? Why'd you stop?" She asked breathlessly, eyebrows furrowing.

He didn't know how to respond. He wasn't even sure what to label the feeling that washed over him when she said she had been on a date.

They weren't in a relationship. They had never been on a date. There were never any talks of going on a date. This was sex.

Just sex.

So why did him hearing her say she had been in someone else's company tonight make him feel like this?

"N-nothing," he stammered, starting his thrusts up again quickly to try and move on from this little hiccup. "It's nothing."

Rowan kept her eyes on Harry's face as she felt the building of her orgasm approaching once again. He was wearing an expression she didn't recognize, and she wasn't sure if it made her uneasy, or if it made her upset. Harry had never looked like this before.

To try and distract her from what just happened, Harry pressed his fingertips down a little harder on her clit - moving them in precise circles, the ones he knew that made her legs shake.

"Oh god," Rowan mewled, shoving her face into the side of Harry's neck for just a moment before she let her body fall flat against the counter top once more - Harry's hand slipping from her neck.

Harry used the angle to his advantage, wrapping his now free hand around the top of her shoulder, and bending his legs just a bit more to really give it to her as hard as he could.

He was angry.

That was the conclusion he had come to. Angry that someone else got to take her to a restaurant. Angry that she got dressed up for someone that wasn't him. Angry that someone else got to put their hands on her.

"Did he fuck you like this?" Harry questioned, hips snapping against her ass. His eyes looked down to see it jiggling, and he groaned when he saw just how wet she had gotten his cock as it slipped in and out of her cunt. "Where did he fuck you, hm? In his bed? On the couch? Did he have you bent over a counter like this?"

Rowan's teeth were cutting into her bottom lip as she pushed onto the tips of her toes, using the leverage to push her hips back to meet his aggressive thrusts.

"Fucking answer me," Harry demanded, his hand coming down to slap one of her ass cheeks, instantly seeing his hand print reddening her porcelain skin.

"N-no," Rowan choked out, eyes shutting tight. Her orgasm was close. She was almost there. "We didn't fuck."

Harry smirked at her confession, chuckling as he leaned down to press a kiss against Rowan's spine. "And why is that, Ro? Knew you wouldn't be satisfied?"

Rowan didn't want to give him the real answer. The guy she had gone on a date with had actually invited her back to his place, and he made it pretty known that his intentions for the night were going to end with her being in his bed. A couple of months ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about him taking her home, but tonight she just couldn't. She lied about needing to get home to her brother's dog, claiming she was dog sitting for him while out of town.

The date saw through her lie, and he had a few choice words for her before he left her on the street to find her own way home. The words didn't hurt, and Rowan didn't care.

This was only the second date she had been on since she started sleeping with Harry, and the first one didn't go that well either. That one was only a couple of weeks after this whole thing started, and when her date went to go down on her, he saw a fresh bruise that Harry had sucked onto the inside of her thigh just a few days before. He didn't call her names, but he did kick her out. He was nice enough to get her an Uber though.

"He lived with his parents," Rowan lied for the second time tonight, this time to Harry, and her mouth hung open as she was just on the brink of her climax.

Harry hummed in response, the tingling in his lower abdomen brewing. "Probably worked out better for you anyway. We both know I'm the only one who can get you off that way you want. That way you need. Because you do need me, don't you?"

Rowan scoffed, shaking her head at his arrogance as her knees began to tremble. She let out a loud moan, gripping to the counter again as she felt the beginning of her orgasm taking hold. "Oh fuck, oh fuck me, oh fuck."

Harry still applied pressure to her clit, feeling her pulsing around his shaft as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. "Such a ruined little cum slut," he murmured, taking in the way Rowan's face looked as she came - cheek pressed against the counter.

There was a glow that surrounded her when she would come, and it made an unfamiliar sensation loom in Harry's stomach when he would see it. The first couple of times he blamed that sensation on his orgasm, but he soon realized it was something more than just that.

He liked the way she looked when she would come around his cock. It was the only time he ever really saw her giving in to something and letting it take her over - surrendering to something that was out of her control.

Rowan didn't even realize she did it, but Harry would wait, and after a few seconds of riding out her orgasm, he would watch as her lips twitched up into a slight smile. It happened every single time, and every single time it would cause Harry to smile too.

Harry's eyes focused on Rowan's face and sure enough, the small smile eventually took over. That alone had Harry reaching his own end, leaning over to press his chest against her back, wrapping his arms tight around her. He groaned as he dropped his face into her neck, feeling his release filling her.

After a few seconds, they still remained in the same position with heavy breathing and sweat clinging to their hairlines. Harry puckered his lips to press a kiss to her skin as he pulled out, causing Rowan to let off her toes and stand flat on her feet. He quickly turned around to clean himself up before grabbing a dish towel, wetting it with lukewarm water.

Rowan stayed in her spot over the counter, jumping slightly when she felt Harry's hand against the back of her thigh.

"Sorry," he apologized, sponging another kiss to her leg before lifting the damp cloth to wipe the insides of her thighs.

Rowan always allowed Harry to give her proper after care, every time except for the first time they slept together that is, and he loved doing it. She could tell he enjoyed it, so she let him. She saw it as him just doing the proper thing after sleeping with someone, but he did it because he cared. Harry hadn't even realized that was his reasoning for doing so though. He too just thought it was because he wanted to do the right thing.

She did make note of the extra kisses he had been giving her tonight as that was not something typical of him. They rarely ever kissed while having sex, and they never discussed it afterwards either.

Once Harry finished, he stood up and patted one of Rowan's hips a couple of times with his palm. "You okay?"

Rowan gave him a nod as she finally pushed herself off the counter, and she walked back into the living room with shaky legs to retrieve the small silk robe she had on earlier. She pulled it back on and tied it, walking around the room to collect Harry's clothes as well.

The minute he walked in tonight, Harry was immediately removing his articles of clothing. From the foyer to the living room, he had stripped with his eyes set on Rowan as he did so. She had left the door unlocked for him, something she started doing just a few weeks after this began, and it always added a small factor of spontaneity to their encounters.

Harry joined her after tossing the cloth into her dirty clothes hamper, and he thanked her as he took his clothes from her, beginning to pull them on. Rowan nibbled on her bottom lip as she watched him, nerves swirling in her stomach.

Harry made note of the way she was staring at him, and he raised a brow. "Something on your mind?"

Clearing her throat, Rowan sat back down on the couch and grabbed the glass of wine she had been sipping on before Harry arrived. She tucked one leg under herself as her free hand fell into her lap.

"Are you busy next Friday?" She asked, ripping the bandaid off in asking the question that had been bouncing around in her brain.

Harry paused, halfway to pulling his shirt back over his body. He blinked at her before putting it on all the way, arms flexing as he pushed them through the sleeves. "Why? Are you asking me on a date?"

His tone indicated that he was teasing, but it had Rowan growing even more anxious. It wasn't necessarily a date, but she needed a date to attend an event. There was a large gala being held for her office, and several other offices in the area, next Friday. She was required to go, and she knew she needed to bring a date so she didn't get criticized for being by herself for the second year in a row.

"You wish," she commented with a roll of her eyes, taking another sip of her wine. She had expected Harry to look away, but his eyes held her face as he sat down on the coffee table in front of her.

"I don't think I have anything booked. Again, why?"

Rowan sucked in a deep breath, tapping the tips of her fingers against her glass as she stared at him. "I have a work event - a gala. I need to bring a date with me."

Harry's expression didn't change as he stared at Rowan. She then decided to keep talking as the silence was causing her skin to crawl.

"It's a really big deal - this event. It's not just my business that's going to be there. There'll be a lot of different businesses in the area as well, and it's important I make the best impression," she explained, trying her best to read him, but she couldn't. "I don't really have anyone else to ask so..."

Harry was more than surprised that Rowan was asking him, of all people, to go with her. She had made it clear during their first meeting that she didn't find him to be sophisticated in the slightest, and even though he knew that wasn't true, he never really corrected her on it.

He could be extremely professional when he wanted to be. He had been to plenty of higher end events in his life, and he was always well behaved.

"And you thought I would be the best candidate?" He asked, straightening up a bit as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Rowan groaned, looking up at the ceiling. She felt like he was making this more difficult so he could watch her squirm. She knew he liked when he felt he had the upper hand with her, and if that's what it took for him to agree to go with her, then so be it.

"Because, Harry, we know each other," she stated, tilting her head back down to look at him. "I know not that well personally, but we do know each other. I'd rather go to something like this with someone I know than a stranger. That would just make me even more uneasy."

This was the only work event that ever gave her anxiety, and it was because most of the time, all eyes were on her. She was the only woman in the field that held her particular position. All other positions such as hers were held by men.

"And I can buy your suit, and I'll even book you for the night if-"

"First off, I'm not an escort, Rowan, you don't have to pay me," Harry interrupted with a small laugh. "And I have a suit, several actually, so buying one won't be necessary either."

Rowan felt blush tinting her cheeks as she realized he had called her out on paying him for this. "So you'll join me?"

Harry sighed softly as he stared at her. He knew he should say 'no' because all of a sudden he was getting those weird feelings around her. It had been a while since had even had the inkling of these emotions, and he wasn't sure what to make of them. He knew it would probably be best to end this completely, but he couldn't.

"Yeah, I-I'll join you," he said with a nod.

They sat there and kept their eyes on each other for a while before Harry stood, slapping his hands against his thighs as he did so. "I should get going."

He never did hang around after, and Rowan was more than fine with that. It would honestly be a little weird if they were to just hang out every time they were done.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll text you the details for Friday," Rowan stated, finishing off her glass of wine. "And Harry, please make sure you're...covered."

Just like earlier, an expression that Rowan couldn't make out washed over Harry's face.

"Got it," he said sharply, heading over to the door.

Within seconds, Harry had his shoes on his feet, and he swiped his keys off the table as he exited Rowan's house - slamming the door slightly.

Rowan let out a deep breath that she didn't know she had been holding in, staring at the door that Harry had just walked out of. There was something off about him tonight, but she just couldn't make out what.

✧✧✧

Harry sat on the couch in Rowan's living room, hunching over just a bit with his forearms resting on the tops of his legs. His fingers were intertwined, and his head was hung as he waited for her to finish getting ready.

She had texted him earlier to let him know that the front door would be unlocked, and that he could come in and make himself comfortable even if she wasn't ready yet.

He had been here for about thirty minutes now, and he was growing irritated. He had arrived ten minutes earlier than she had said to be polite, but he was frustrated that she still wasn't ready. He was certain that if it was the other way around that she would be yelling at him.

Sighing, he lifted his head to run his hand through his hair before hearing heels coming down the hallway. He stood up, going to meet her in the foyer.

"Thank fuck, I didn't know how much longer you were-"

Harry's eyes landed on Rowan and they widened when he saw her appearance. His lips parted as he took her in, never seeing her so dolled up before.

"Sorry," she huffed, digging through her gold purse. She hadn't looked up yet, and she didn't even realize how hard Harry was staring. "My fucking hair was being a pain in the ass. This still isn't what I had in mind but it'll do."

Finally locating her house keys, she shut her bag and looked over to Harry. Her eyebrows raised in surprise when she took in the quality of his suit, knowing it was an expensive one.

He looked delicious.

"Don't worry," he started, clearing his throat. "I have a button up to put on under this in the car. It's just hot with all the layers."

Rowan hadn't even paid attention to the fact his swallows were on full display considering he just had a black tank top on underneath his suit jacket. She cleared her throat, giving him a soft nod before she walked out of the house with him following close behind.

She locked up the door, and then started towards her garage.

"Oh, I was going to drive," Harry spoke up, and Rowan glanced at him over her shoulder once she stopped walking.

"That's really nice and all, but we have an impression to make and-"

She stopped talking as she watched Harry press a key fob, and she saw lights flicker in her peripheral. Looking over, she saw the lights belonged to a black Ferrari California. It was everything she could do to keep her jaw from dropping when she realized this car belonged to him.

"What did you do, rent this?" She asked as they started to make their way over to the car, earning an eye roll from Harry.

"No, Rowan, I didn't rent it," he said through clenched teeth as he opened the passenger door for her. "It's mine. Despite what you think, I'm actually very well off when it comes to money."

Rowan wrapped her hand around the top of the door, turning her body to face Harry. Her sight wandered over him for a second before meeting his eyes. "You look good tonight, Harry."

Her pulse picked up when the words left her mouth considering she had never really complimented him before. The only time anything close to compliments came from either of them was when Harry would be inches deep inside of her.

"Thanks," Harry answered, giving her a crooked grin that made the dimple in his cheek pop. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Rowan felt her cheeks flush before she tucked herself into the passenger seat. Harry made sure her limbs were inside properly before he shut the door and walked around to the driver's side, slipping into his own seat.

Leaning forward, Rowan entered the address for the venue they were needing to go to for the gala before sitting back in her seat.

They rode in almost complete silence - only light music playing on the radio as Rowan stared out the window. She was wringing her hands in her lap, not at all looking forward to dealing with the inappropriate men she knew she would be coming across tonight.

Harry could see Rowan fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, and he knew she had to be extremely nervous to be doing so. Even the first time they slept together she wasn't this nervous, and that was the only other time he had seen her stone exterior cracking.

Despite his mind telling him not to, Harry reached his hand out to take one of hers - giving it a soft squeeze. Rowan jumped at the sudden contact before looking over to Harry. He stopped at a red light and peered over at her, both of them just holding each other's eyes.

After a moment, he rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand as Rowan nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Can I ask what exactly has you so anxious?" He questioned, moving to intertwine their fingers.

Rowan felt breathless at Harry's gestures. It had been years since she had held hands with someone like this, or even had someone ask what was wrong. She hid herself away for the most part from everyone - including her family. It slightly frightened her with the way she could be so vulnerable in front of Harry.

"These men..."

She stopped herself for a moment. She realized just how open she was about to be with Harry, and she hadn't opened up to someone in so long

"The men that are going to be there tonight, they're not the nicest," she explained. "They're rude - they sometimes make inappropriate comments. I've dealt with it every year for the past three years since I took this position. I'm the only woman in the area that holds my title, Harry. Every other title like mine is held by a man.

"I handle the men that I work with daily. They try to intimidate me, but they also respect me and everything I bring to the table. These men that will be here tonight, they want to see me fail."

Harry swallowed harshly at Rowan's words. The need to protect her from these individuals bubbled in chest, and he gave her hand another squeeze. The light turned green, and he began to drive again, but he didn't allow his hand to disconnect from hers.

"Well, I'll be there tonight," he stated. "And everything will be okay. Maybe if they see you're there with someone, they'll let off of you, yeah?"

Rowan wanted to believe him, but the words and gestures that had been passed her way in years past fogged her mind. She had only brought a date the first time she attended this gala, a boyfriend at the time, but he didn't do anything to help defend her, and the night actually ended with them getting into a fight.

They broke up the next day after being together for almost two years. That was the last boyfriend she had as she no longer wanted to allow herself to get hurt like she was. All of those factors from that night were what caused Rowan to build up that wall that she so easily hides behind.

It just made things easier when feelings weren't involved. There was no risk of humiliation, and no risk for getting her heart broken.

It wasn't until Harry was shutting off the car in a parking garage that she realized they were already there. She wasn't sure just how long she had zoned out because she was so caught up in her head. She blinked a few times before looking over to him as she could see him moving around out of the corner of her eye.

She watched as he shrugged off his suit jacket, and he began to put on the dress shirt. Her eyes fixated on his fingers as he did up the button, doing up all of them but the top one to ensure that his tattoos were covered. The only one that would be visible tonight would be the one on his hand, and Rowan was okay with that.

Breaking out of her gaze, she reached in her purse and located her lipstick before pulling the passenger mirror down. She smoothed the product over her lips, making sure they were evenly covered as she pressed them together a couple of times.

By the time Rowan looked back over to Harry, his suit jacket was now back on, and he was staring at her.

"What?" She asked, dropping the tube back in her purse.

"Nothing," he stated with a shake of his head before getting out of the car.

Rowan opened her door herself and had started to get out, but Harry was there quickly and took her hand to assist her. "Are you ready to do this?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she sighed, draping the chain of her purse over her shoulder. "I forgot, we need to think of a backstory for you."

They began to walk out of the parking garage and towards the street as the venue was a couple of buildings down.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as they stepped outside, quickly switching spots with Rowan so he was closest to the road and the passing cars.

"They're going to ask what you do for a living, and you can't exactly tell them that you're a stripper."

Harry swallowed down the feeling that was starting to brew in his chest again. It was the same feeling he experienced the other night when she told him that he would need to cover up.

It was apparent to him that Rowan was embarrassed of him. When this thing first started, he didn't care about that because it was all just physical, but over time he thought that maybe she would've let up on him a little bit. Her telling him that he needed to lie about his career just proved that she would never actually accept him completely.

And he wasn't sure why that stung so bad.

"Can't I just say I'm in entertainment or something?" He huffed, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his pants. "That could mean many different things."

Rowan looked over at him for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest as they walked. "Yeah, that should be fine. If they try to ask for specifics, you can just say that you're an agent or something - that you book people for gigs."

Harry nodded in agreement as they walked up the stairs and towards the doors to the main entrance for the venue. He opened the door for Rowan, placing his hand on the small of her back and they walked inside.

It was slightly overwhelming to say the least. Harry had never been to a professional event on this scale before, and it had even him growing a little nervous. He looked down to Rowan, and he watched as her eyes bounced all over the place.

There was clear worry behind them from what Harry could see, which caused his heart to tug a bit for her. He moved his hand from her lower back to wrap around her hip - pulling her into his side more.

"Relax, Ro," he crooned into her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You look beautiful, and everything's going to be fine."

Rowan tilted her head up to look at him, both of them watching as their eyes dropped to each others lips for just a moment, before their sights met again.

"Let's go get a drink."

Rowan took the lead a bit, and guided them towards one of the open bars. She ordered a glass of red wine for herself, and Harry ordered himself some tequila on the rocks. He would only be having a couple of drinks tonight considering he was driving.

As they turned around to figure out where they would be seated for dinner, they almost collided with one of the men Rowan had been dreading to see this evening.

"Miss Collins," the man said, taking a sip from his own drink as he eyed her.

Harry didn't like the way this man was looking at Rowan in the slightest, and he quickly made sure to pull her into his side again.

"Mr. Banks," she responded, curling into Harry just a bit without even realizing. "Good evening."

"See you've actually brought yourself a date this year," he stated, turning his attention to Harry. "You haven't had a date since the first time I met you. What was his name? Danny, Drew..."

"Dalton," Rowan corrected him, grasping the wine glass in her hand a little tighter. "But yes, it's nice to see that your eyes work, and you can see I've brought someone with me."

"Yes, Dalton. You two created quite the scene didn't you? You two arguing and then him getting up from the table and leaving. He left you here all by yourself."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed, and he glanced down to Rowan for a moment. Her expression was stoic, but her eyes showed just how much these words were affecting her.

This was the most insight he had ever had into Rowan's life. She never spoke about her past, or really anything personal for that matter.

"Hey," Harry spoke up, causing Mr. Banks to turn his attention onto him. "That's enough of that, I think. We're here to enjoy our evening. Together. So if you'll excuse us."

Harry's arm wrapped around Rowan's waist once more as he steered them away from that awful human, heading towards where all the tables were set up.

Rowan remained quiet as they tried to find their names, and once they were located, she set her glass of wine down on the table. Harry was quick to pull her chair out and assist her with sitting down before taking his own seat.

He watched as she started to wring her hands in her lap again, much like she did in the car earlier, and he reached out to take both of them.

"You alright?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

Rowan sighed, giving Harry a small nod. "Yeah, I just...that was a bit embarrassing, but I should've known he would bring that back up."

"Did that really happen? What he said?"

Rowan removed one of her hands from Harry's to grab her wine glass, gulping down a good portion of it before setting it back down. "Dalton was my boyfriend. The last boyfriend I've had. We got into a really big fight that night, and then the next day he broke up with me. That was three years ago.

"He broke up with me not only because of the fight, but he also thought that I had changed. He thought I was prioritizing my job over him, and that I didn't care about our relationship. None of that was true, I was just extremely overwhelmed because I had just been put in this position, and I was still trying to figure everything out."

Rowan sucked in a deep breath when she realized just how much she had revealed to Harry. Looking down at her lap, she suddenly felt so ashamed. She gasped softly when she felt Harry's hand on her cheek, and he tilted her face up to meet his eyes once again.

"Hey," he said, thumb caressing her cheekbone. "Don't do that. There's no reason to be embarrassed when sharing your past. We all have one."

Rowan felt a weird tingling in her stomach due to the gentle way Harry held her face, and when she heard the softness of his tone. She didn't like the feeling.

It terrified her.

"W-what are you doing?" She asked, her voice a bit rough as she lifted her hand to move his off of her face.

Harry felt his heart drop due to Rowan's reaction, and he cleared his throat before turning away from her completely. "Nothing. Sorry."

They were soon joined by some of Rowan's colleagues at the table, and Harry downed his first drink in just a few seconds. Between what just happened with Rowan, and the fact that he was going to have to sit and listen to these men talk about things with her that he had no understanding of made his skin crawl.

"So, Rowan, are you going to introduce us to your date?" Cliff, one of the men that worked closely with Rowan at her office, spoke up in the middle of their meal.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry," she said with a small laugh. "This is Harry."

Rowan placed her hand in the middle of Harry's back, looking over to him with a smile as she rubbed the area. It became apparent to Harry that she was playing a part, and it bothered him how he realized that he wished it was all real.

"And what do you do for work, Harry?" One of the other gentlemen asked, and by the way Rowan's face faltered, he could tell it was one of the men she had been worrying about encountering tonight.

"I'm in entertainment. I work on arranging talent for different types of gigs in the area," Harry lied flawlessly, and he let his hand land on Rowan's leg to give her thigh a small squeeze.

Rowan's body started to heat up just a bit, and she grabbed her wine after letting her hand fall from Harry's back.

"Well that sounds...interesting," the man responded, and Rowan grimaced.

They were less than impressed.

That ended up pissing Harry off, not realizing just how pretentious all these people would be this evening. Rowan didn't do anything to speak up and try to defend his career, regardless of whether or not it was fake, and that irritated him even further.

"Actually, I get booked for entertainment sometimes too," he said and was immediately met with Rowan stepping on his foot from underneath the table. He groaned, shooting her a look which revealed that she was already looking at him - raising her eyebrows.

"Oh really?" He heard someone speak up, but he kept his eyes on Rowan. "And what's your talent?"

Harry looked over to the individual, a smirk landing on his lips as he removed his hand from Rowan's thigh to face those at the table completely. "Dancing."

Rowan curled back in her seat, cradling her glass of wine to her chest as she wished she was anywhere but there.

"Dancing?"

"Stripping to be more precise," Harry continued, before reaching up to unbutton some of the top buttons of his shirt. He shrugged off his jacket, and Rowan watched with wide eyes as he began to roll his sleeves up to his elbows. "I hope you all don't mind if I get more comfortable. It's getting a little warm in here."

Little by little, Rowan saw more of Harry's inked skin get revealed to those around them, and she slammed her glass down on the table. "Harry, can we go speak in private for a moment?"

"Why?" He asked, grabbing her glass of wine and finishing it off. "I'm sure these wonderful people have a lot of questions about my profession."

"Outside. Now," Rowan demanded as she stood up, grabbing his suit jacket off the back of his chair as she started towards the entrance of the venue.

Harry smirked to himself as he stood up, running a hand up and through his curls. "If you'll excuse us."

He followed behind Rowan, watching as she darted between people and tables to get outside as quickly as possible. She was furious, he could tell that much, but he was frustrated with the way she, and everyone else, went about treating him tonight.

Once they were outside, he watched as Rowan paced back and forth, both hands gripping to his suit jacket.

"Oh come on, Ro, I know you can't be that-"

"Do you have any idea what you could've just cost me, Harry?" She asked, looking over him with a shake of her head. "Openly admitting to them that you're a stripper? It's going to be so obvious that's how we've met, and I'm never going to hear the end of it!

"Do you realize that the way my company works is that if personal issues become the talk of the office, people can lose their jobs. I could lose my job because you couldn't keep your fucking ignorant mouth shut for one evening!"

Harry didn't know how to respond. He honestly didn't realize just how big of a deal this could be for her, and that she could be at risk of losing her job.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, I didn't know that-"

"But you did!" Rowan exclaimed, feeling tears of frustration pricking at her eyes. That caused her to get even more angry, having not felt this emotion in so long. She had hidden this weak side of her away from everyone to protect herself. "You did know! I told you what to expect, I gave you a story to follow, and I told you how you needed to be dressed. Is this what you wanted? Is this why you agreed to come with me? So you could play the part for a little bit, and then turn around and just completely humiliate me?"

Now Harry was the one growing irritated. She acted like being seen with him, and not the man she wanted him to be, was repulsive. As if just knowing that people knew the truth would be the end of the world.

"How do you think I fucking feel?" Harry bit back, walking towards her. "You're so fucking ashamed of me, Rowan, and for what? Do you understand how that sits with me? I've never had someone judge me in the way that you have since I met you."

Rowan stopped pacing and looked over at Harry, the tears now streaming down her cheeks. "Why does it matter if I'm ashamed of you or not? We sleep together, Harry, that's it. You and I both knew when we started this whole thing that this was all it was ever going to be. Just sex. I never asked for anything more, and I don't want it. Not with someone like you."

Her words cut Harry to the core, and his lips parted to let out a pathetic laugh. They stared at each other as Rowan's chest heaved, and Harry tried to find the words to say.

"You're right," he said with a nod, trying to will away the gut wrenching feeling that was knocking around inside his chest. "It was just sex in the beginning. But call me a fucking idiot, Rowan, because I think I started to develop feelings for you - even though I knew I shouldn't have. I've never slept with anyone as much as I have with you without being in a relationship with them.

"I never told you that because I knew it would freak you out, or that you'd use it against me somehow, but it's the truth. And you're a bitch. You're so fucking mean, and I don't know how it happened, but I found myself drawn to you more and more every time we would see each other. I thought that tonight by you asking me here, and with the way you've been looking at me, that maybe things were changing in that way for you too. I can tell now that I was so damn wrong."

Rowan's bottom lip wobbled as she stared up into Harry's moss colored eyes that were swirling with so many emotions. She knew what he was talking about. That feeling that he was expressing was one that had started to take a hold on her as well. The only reason why she didn't dwell on it was because she knew they could never work. They were too different, and in two completely separate places in life.

"Yeah, you were wrong," Rowan finally responded, throwing Harry's suit jacket at him, which he caught just before it could hit the ground. "If I had known that's what was happening, I would've ended the whole thing weeks ago. You can't blame me for your feelings when you knew I'd never feel the same way."

The words felt venomous as they fell from her mouth, and she knew the guilt from them would end up eating her alive, but it's what she had to do.

"Now I get why he fucking left you," Harry mumbled under his breath as he pushed his arms through his suit jacket. "All you do care about is yourself, and here I was having sympathy for you."

Lifting her hand, Rowan angrily wiped the tears off her cheeks just to have new ones follow - she felt her heart ache at Harry's words.

"Just go home, Harry," she said, looking away from him and out onto the busy road as she watched all the cars drive through the city. "And don't even think about contacting me ever again."

Rowan didn't spare another glance at Harry as she went back inside the venue. She bolted for the bathroom, locking herself inside the single room before grasping the sink with her hands. A loud gasp left her as she tried to choke back a sob, her eyes shut tight while her body trembled.

Harry stared at the door that Rowan had walked through in disbelief, and he could feel that tears of his own were threatening to surface. He shook his head and sniffed loudly, walking down the steps and back towards the parking garage.

This was not how either of them expected their night to go, and they were both certain that they'd never be seeing, or even be hearing from each other, again.

✧✧✧

"Steven, please," Rowan pleaded, resting both of her hands on the desk that he sat behind. "Help me out here."

Steven peered up at Rowan over the contract he was currently looking over for a client, pressing his tongue to the inside of his bottom lip. "What you're asking me is to break employee confidentiality, you realize that right?"

Rowan groaned and walked over to the couch in the room, throwing herself down on it. "Yes, I'm very much aware, but I doubt he would get angry at you. He speaks highly of you."

It had been a little over a month since Rowan had seen Harry, and for the last three weeks she had been trying to get in contact with him. Her texts went ignored, her calls were unanswered, and when she tried to call and book him through Steven again, she was told he was taking a break.

"Rowan...I meant it when I said he was taking a break," he sighed, tossing the contract onto his desk as he leaned forward a bit. "He's been on a break for a month, and he told me that he didn't know if he was going to be coming back."

Rowan's eyebrows narrowed, and she sat up. "What do you mean?"

"What I just told you," he scoffed with a shake of his head. "Said he had some things he needed to figure out, and that he needed time to do it."

If Rowan didn't already feel like shit, this made her feel like it even more. That means that he had taken a break since the night of her gala, and that made her feel extremely guilty.

"Made me cancel all the gigs he had booked for the next month and a half," Steven continued. "I haven't seen or heard from him since."

Rowan turned to have her feet flat against the floor as she rested her face in her hands.

"Something happened between the two of you, didn't it? You're the girl he's been talking about?"

Goosebumps covered Rowan's skin as she slowly lifted her head to look over at Steven. "What?"

"He had pep in his step the last few months before his break, and when I asked him about it, he told me that he was having a lot of fun with someone. He didn't tell me who, but now I'm guessing it was you - seeing as you're here and completely distressed."

Rowan's heart was aching in her chest as she stared down at her palms, fighting away the tears that were gathering in her waterline.

"Yeah....yeah something happened," she confessed, shaking her head. "And I fucked it all up. I've been trying to fix it, but he won't answer my calls. My texts get no replies. I'm surprised he hasn't blocked my number."

Steven stared at Rowan, watching as her hands started to shake. She started to avoid eye contact with him now, and he could tell it was because she was growing vulnerable.

"I ruined everything," she whispered. "And I've realized that I-I've missed him."

It was the truth. Rowan ended up leaving the gala early that night, and she got drunk off a bottle of wine at home. She cried more that night than she had since Dalton had broken up with her. It was clear to her that she'd never be happy again. She ruined almost every chance at a relationship she had, and honestly, Harry was the closest she had been to one in years.

When she got to work on Monday, she was called to the board room and informed she was being 'let go'. All due to the scene that was caused at the gala that past weekend. She expected it to bother her more, but surprisingly, it didn't. That's when she realized that these past couple of years she was trying to live up to everyone else's expectations of her rather than figuring out who she was herself.

Thankfully with her experience, she got another job quickly, and even though she was CEO again, this office was way more relaxed. She felt more comfortable here, and it wasn't so professional. It made her come to the conclusion that things didn't have to be so prim and proper to be seen as successful. The whole experience caused her to change her tune on life.

Steven shook his head as he grabbed a sticky note pad - quickly scribbling Harry's address down on it.  "Look, if he sues me, you're paying for it all," he said, waving the note out in front of him for her to take. "But I know he'll want to see you if you're being honest about wanting to fix things."

Rowan popped off the couch quickly, taking the note off of Steven's fingertip. "Thank you so much," she breathed, nibbling on her bottom lip. "I promise, if this goes wrong, I'll take the blame for everything, okay? Thank you!"

She quickly fled the office, running down the street to get back to her car. Her hands were shaking as she started up the engine - punching Harry's address into her GPS.

As she drove, Rowan rubbed the pads of her thumbs against the steering wheel out of nervousness, her anxiety skyrocketing. There was a big chance this could all blow up in her face. So many things could go wrong.

Harry could either slam the door in her face, or maybe he wasn't even home. Or if he was home...maybe he wasn't alone.

Rowan shuddered at the thought, but she knew she wouldn't be able to be that upset if he had found someone else to take her place. To be fair, she never really had a place to get taken - at least not in his mind. She basically told him that the whole thing meant nothing more to her than good fuck every weekend. While that was true in the beginning, Rowan had too felt feelings growing for Harry, but she had shoved them down.

The GPS notified her that she was close to her destination, and she noticed that Harry lived in a neighborhood not too different from her own. She parked her car along the street once it said she arrived, and she cut off her car.

She sat there in silence for a few minutes before mustering up the courage to get out. Her opened toed wedges clicked against the concrete as she walked up his driveway, and the skirt to her flowy black dress that hit just above her knees rippled in the spring breeze.

Once she was at the door, Rowan started to regret this decision. She wasn't sure if she could handle him rejecting her, even though she wouldn't really be able to blame him if he did. She'd understand, especially after the way she treated him, and the awful things she said to him the last time they had seen each other.

It was early on a Saturday afternoon, and she could only hope that he was home. She didn't see his car in the driveway, but she figured he could be like her and park his cars in the garage.

Taking in a deep breath, she raised her fist and knocked on the door three times. Her fingertips tapped against her thigh as she waited for him, fighting the urge to look down at her feet so she could keep her eyes on the doorway.

It was only a few seconds later that the front door opened, and Rowan's lips parted as she took in Harry's appearance. His curls had grown just a bit, a pair of sunglasses on top of his head pushing them back. There was a mustache covering his upper lip with scruff to accompany it along his jawline, his cheeks and his chin. He always had a bit of stubble, but she had never seen him with this much facial hair.

Her eyes trailed over his outfit, pressing her thighs together just at the sight of him. A dark gray blazer hung on his shoulders, covering up a white t shirt that had 'Enjoy Health • Eat Your Honey •' in blue letters with the illustration of a bee in the middle. A gold necklace with a few pearls lining it laid tight along his neckline, whereas his cross dangled along his sternum. His lower half was adorned in a pair of black trousers with his feet slipped into a pair of black Vans.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry asked, his tone so sharp that it knocked Rowan out of her trance. She finally met his eyes, and felt as if the air was getting pushed out of her lungs. "Are you fucking stalking me now?"

Rowan bit down on the insides of her cheeks, nails digging into her palms as she tried to get everything she wanted to say in order in her head. "N-no, I...I got your address from someone. You've been ignoring me."

Harry rolled his eyes, wrapping his hand around the door knob. "Yeah, there's a reason for that. And I'm sure I know who you got my address from. Seems I'll need to have a talk with Steven. Now - if you'll excuse me," he stated, going to close the door in her face, but Rowan's hand quickly slapped against the surface to keep it open.

"Harry, please, just give me five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"Why the hell should I do that?" He snapped, shaking his head. "I'm not interested in what we had anymore, Ro...Rowan."

Harry took a deep breath when he noticed he had allowed himself to call her by her nickname instead of her full name. It didn't feel right anymore, not when things were different now.

"Okay, that's fine," Rowan said, giving him a nod even though that was a lie on her end. She was going to be devastated if he turned her down, but again, she wouldn't blame him. "But I just would really like for you to hear me out. Just please listen to what I have to say, and then I'll leave. I promise."

Harry looked down to his feet, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he processed Rowan's request. After the last conversation they had, it was almost too painful to be in her presence. The hurtful words that she had spoken to him echoed in his mind, they had been for the past month, and he wasn't sure if anything she could say would change that.

"Five minutes," he said sternly, moving out of the doorway but still keeping his eyes on the floor.

Rowan moved past him, her body almost brushing against his as she walked into the foyer of his home. Her familiar scent filled his nose, jasmine and gardenia, and he felt his heart ache. He remembered how his clothes would smell like her once he would leave her place, but all those clothes had been washed, and he wasn't left with any traces of her for the past couple of weeks.

He closed the door behind her, and once he finally looked at her again, he watched as her eyes danced over the art on his walls. It was obvious to him that she was a bit shocked at how nice his house was, some could even argue it was as nice as hers, and he was sure she wasn't expecting that.

"You have a beautiful home, Harry," she spoke after a minute, peering at him over her shoulder as she set her keys down on the small table by the door.

Harry didn't respond to her compliment as he walked by her and into the living room. He sat down on the couch, resting his hands on his knees as Rowan finally followed behind. His fingertips pressed into his skin as he tried to ground himself, but he wasn't sure what to expect from this conversation.

"Were you going somewhere?" Rowan asked as she sat down on the couch beside him, but still leaving a good distance between them. "You...you look nice."

He looked more than nice to her, but she didn't want to seem like she was trying to overdo it and kiss his ass.

"I was about to meet some friends for a late brunch," he mumbled, swiping his thumb nail over the cuticle on his middle finger.

Rowan noted that the cuticle was already scabbed over, and it made her frown when she came to the conclusion that this must've been something he resorted to when he was anxious.

"Well, I'll really just take the five minutes then," she sighed, smoothing her hands over her dress so that it properly covered her thighs. "First off, I want to apologize to you. I'm sorry for the way that I spoke to you. And I mean that starting with the moment I met you, up until the night of the gala. You never deserved any of that, and I'm sorry."

Harry's eyes flickered up from his lap and over to Rowan for a moment, quickly catching her eyes before looking away again.

"When I got into work the Monday after the gala, I was informed that I was being let go," Rowan decided to continue, her heart pounding in her chest. "And you would think that I would be upset, and practically devastated that I had lost my job, but I wasn't.

"I realized that I didn't want to work for a place that made me second guess every decision I made out of the workplace. That judged people for the way they looked, or what other people have as a profession. I already have a new job doing the same position at a more modern based company, and I'm happier than I've been in years being there."

Rowan was hoping for Harry to acknowledge anything she was saying, either with responding verbally, or giving a cue that he was following with a nod of his head, but he didn't.

"I also realized all of this because of the way that not only they treated you that night, Harry, but also because of the way I treated you. It wasn't fair for me to ask you to be someone you weren't, and I know you'll probably never forgive me for that, but it's how I truly feel.

"And I want you to know that I didn't mean half those things I said to you. Sure I was upset, and I meant that at the time, but I had no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed of you. Please believe me when I say don't feel that way anymore, and I never should've. You're...you're a wonderful person - inside and out. I know we'd get our jabs in here and there when around each other, and that we'd act like we couldn't actually stand one another. But that night you were so comforting when you saw how anxious I was. I knew that part of you existed, I could tell from the first time we slept together, and I think you presenting it so openly frightened me."

Harry looked completely away from Rowan now, staring out the window that showcased his backyard. He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth as his stomach swirled with all different emotions. He was doing his best to cope with all of them, but it was a bit overwhelming.

"Those feelings you were talking about, the ones that you felt over time for me - I felt them too, Harry. I was so scared, and you're right, I was selfish. I was selfish because I was so dead set on being the best at my career that I sacrificed having something of actual purpose with you. Towards the end of it all, I started to crave your company more often than not. I lied about that last date I went on, the guy invited me back to his place but I made up a story about dog sitting because I just couldn't do it. Not when I had you.

"I know we still don't know a lot about each other, but I would like to know more about you. I'd like to try this again, but do it the right way."

Silence fell over the two of them, the only thing being heard was the clicking of the large art deco clock Harry had hanging on his wall above the TV. Rowan gave it a few seconds, and when Harry still refused to speak, or even look at her, she made the choice that it was time for her to go.

Her heart felt heavy as she pushed herself up off the couch, biting down on her bottom lip to keep it from trembling while walking to the foyer. Maybe she had made a mistake by coming here. It was almost easier for her to just live with him ignoring her through a phone than have him ignore her when he was sitting there.

But Rowan had to remind herself that she didn't blame him for wanting nothing to do with her. It's what she deserved, and she knew that she needed to respect his decision - no matter how much it was going to hurt.

Her slender fingers curled around her keys as she picked them up from the table, and she made her way towards the door.

"I should've never brought up Dalton leaving you," she heard Harry rasp out behind her, and she stopped - staring at the door ahead of her. "That was low, and I could tell how much it pained you to retell the story that night. I was just so angry with you, and I wanted to hurt you as much as you were...as much as you had been hurting me. I'm sorry."

Rowan blinked, sending tears down her cheeks as she sucked in a deep breath. Hearing him say that she had been hurting him proved that she had squashed his spirit more than just that night, and she could kick herself for being so self absorbed that she didn't see the signs.

"And I know I'm fucking arrogant," Harry confessed, turning his head now to see Rowan's back was still to him. "Just like you had built up your wall and you were acting closed off and selfish, I do the same with my arrogance. It's a shield for me most of the time, and it's because you're not the first woman to have been ashamed of me. It happened right when I first started my job, but she made me believe it was more, and it never was.

"She had me believing that it was just me and her, but really she had a boyfriend the whole time, and I was just a fling for her sometimes on the weekend when he was out of town. I remember she actually laughed in my face when I told her that I thought we had something, and she said she could never date someone like me. So I understand wanting to make people see a different version of you - that way you can hide the real and vulnerable one away. I've done it for probably just as long as you have, if not longer."

Harry stood up, and Rowan could hear his footsteps approaching her from behind. He reached a hand out to graze his fingertips along the side of her arm, and she shut her eyes at the skin to skin contact. She was having deja vu - this whole thing reminding her of the night of her friend's party. It was when he had approached her from behind at the bar cart, and he had touched her in a similar way.

"But I found myself wanting to show that person to you, Rowan," he stated, his voice now softer than she had ever heard it before. "The only problem was that I didn't know how. It didn't help that the person that you made me see was one that I felt would laugh in my face if I told them how I felt. So I swallowed it down, but it all came to a head that night. All I wanted to do at that gala was protect you from those awful people, but when I saw you wouldn't do the same for me, I completely resorted back to who I made you think I was from the beginning."

Harry's hand traveled up her arm before he cupped it over her shoulder, and Rowan quickly clasped her hand over it, squeezing his fingers against her palm as she did so.

"If you're serious about this, then I need reassurance that you're telling the truth about being completely open with each other. No more hiding. I know we'll have things to work through, and breaking down those walls takes time, but as long as I know we're trying. That's all I need," he whispered as he moved all of Rowan's hair over one shoulder with his free hand. He slowly leaned his head down to press a kiss to the back of her neck. "Tell me that we'll let each other in, and I'm yours, Ro."

Rowan swallowed down a whimper when she heard her nickname fall from his lips, and this time he didn't correct himself. She was still so scared, and she knew it was going to take a lot of time and effort for them to get as open as they wanted to be, but god if she didn't want to try.

"Okay," she agreed with a nod, lifting her other hand to push her tears off her cheeks now that she had calmed down. "I'll let you in. We'll let each other in."

Harry moved his hands down to grasp Rowan's hips before spinning her around. The movement caught her by surprise, causing her to drop her keys against the floor. She stared up at Harry with parted lips, their eyes bouncing over each other's faces.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, and Rowan nodded.

She moved forward to close the little bit of space that was still between them, one hand resting against his chest while the other cupped the side of his face.

"Been needing you to kiss me like this," she admitted.

Harry knew what she meant. Kissing outside of sex had never happened, and they both were aware that this was going to officially change everything.

"Well, I can't leave you needy, can I?" He asked, a bit of his degrading side still coming through, but that's only because he knew it got her to loosen up.

A soft moan rattled in Rowan's throat before Harry leaned down, connecting his lips to her plush ones. It was all Rowan could do not to completely melt into Harry with how deeply he was kissing her right away, but she loved it. His hands eventually moved from her hips to cup the sides of her neck, pressing the pads of his thumbs against her jawline to have her tilting her head back a bit.

Rowan parted her lips slightly for him, and Harry didn't waste any time when it came to rolling his tongue into her mouth. He lapped at the roof of her mouth before fluidly moving his tongue against hers. He groaned when Rowan pressed her chest completely against his, and he felt her hands as they dropped to begin caressing his ribcage through both his shirt and his blazer.

Harry's mustache brushed against Rowan's nose, and her mind immediately went to how that would feel between her legs - against her core. That thought alone had arousal pooling quickly in her underwear, but she tried her best to fight it away.

Moving forward a bit, Harry pressed her up against the door, shifting them around a bit so one of his knees separated her legs. She could feel him trying to lift it up, and she quickly broke away from the kiss, slightly squirming away.

"What?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stared down at her.

She didn't want him to feel how wet she had already gotten. She was scared that if he knew, he'd think that she was only here for sex, and that everything she had said was just a ploy to get them to fuck again.

"I just..." she trailed off, not really knowing what type of excuse she could come up with.

Rowan watched as realization trickled over Harry's features, and a smirk twitched onto the corner of his lips. "You're dripping, aren't you?"

Just the octave of his voice dropping in such a way had Rowan's eyes rolling into the back of her skull. Her head pressed against the door as she felt his large hands moving down her body.

"Don't worry, Ro," he mumbled as his lips pressed against the hinge of her jaw. "Got me half hard already."

She gasped as she felt him rut his cock against the inside of her thigh, her fingertips digging into the indents of his ribs.

Harry's lips traveled down the side of Rowan's neck, sucking gently once he reached the apex where it met her shoulder. She could feel his member twitching against her, and she knew he was growing harder by the second.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, kissing back up to the corner of her mouth. "No more hiding, remember?"

Rowan was tingling all over, still not opening her eyes as she was basking in the presence of being this close to Harry again. Her palms smoothed down lower to Harry's hips, and she fluttered her eyes open as she began to undo his belt. Their eyes held onto one another as she got the buckle unfastened, and she began to pull it free from the belt loops.

"I want your cock," she admitted as she turned her head to connect their upper lips. "And I want it in my mouth while your hands are tied behind your back."

Harry's mouth went dry, and he couldn't stop his body's reaction to her words - his hips jutting out to meet hers which caused their cores to collide for a brief moment. It had them both growing even more hungry for one another.

Rowan actually hadn't gone down on him before. Other than that first night, there was never any foreplay. Harry would always check to make sure that Rowan was ready before they'd have sex, and every time he found her to already be so wet and open for him that nothing else needed to be done. It was the way they wanted it back then, quick and easy. But now that they knew what this truly was, they both wanted to take their time.

"Is that okay with you?" She asked, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before letting it go with a soft 'pop'.

Knowing that Harry was just as turned on as her, Rowan didn't mind cutting right to the chase. She grabbed the sunglasses off the top of his head, tossing them on the table nearby before pushing his blazer off his shoulders so she could take in the ink she had been missing so much.

"That depends - you think your throat can handle it?" Harry challenged as she walked behind him, holding his wrists together to bind them with his belt.

"Oh, I know it can," Rowan confirmed as she pressed onto her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Does that feel okay, baby?"

Harry's knees almost gave out on him at the pet name, Rowan never having called him any sort of nickname before. He wiggled his wrists around and gave her a nod. "Feels fine."

Rowan smirked and positioned herself in front of Harry once again. Her fingers popped open the button of his pants, and she made quick work of the zipper. Slipping her hand down to cup him through his briefs, she could feel just how hard he had gotten against his thigh.

"Oh you poor thing," she taunted, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Aching aren't you?"

Harry couldn't remember the last time a woman had tried to talk to him this way, he was always the one in control. It was never questioned, but hearing Rowan speak to him like this was absolutely doing it for him. He could feel himself leaking onto his skin, and with the lust that began to swirl in her eyes, he could tell that she felt it too.

"Need me to fix it?" She asked, her tone condescending - faking concern.

Clenching his teeth so tight, Harry's jaw twitched which caused Rowan to press her thighs even harder together than she already was. She gave him a small squeeze, causing a whine to leave Harry - a noise she'd never heard him make before.

Harry's eyes followed Rowan as she lowered herself down to kneel in front of him, pulling his pants and briefs down to hug right above his knees. His head tilted back with a groan as he felt the cool air against his throbbing erection, and a second hardly passed before he felt her tongue licking against his slit.

"Fuck," he groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the door.

Their eyes were still on each other as Rowan opened her mouth and she slipped his pink tip, having it match the color of his lips so deliciously, into her mouth.

"Think you're gonna be able to take all of me?"

Rowan hummed, causing a tension to start building in Harry's lower abdomen. His mouth was slack as she ran her hands up his thighs, cupping the back of them as she slowly lowered herself further onto his shaft. No eye contact was severed as Rowan nuzzled her nose into Harry's happy trail, his tip curving just the slightest bit down her throat.

She swallowed, and it was the first time Harry had to shut his eyes as a breathy moan escaped him. It felt so good, and Harry hadn't gotten head in a long time. Rowan grinned around his cock, and she skillfully flicked her tongue up, running the tip of it up and down the underside of his length.

Harry strained against the belt, wanting nothing more than to cup the back of her head so he could get to properly fucking her throat.

Looking down at Rowan again, he hummed as he pushed his hips out a bit further, causing her to swallow around more of him - her eyes beginning to water. "Good fucking girl," he growled, running his tongue over his bottom lip. "Got you crying over my cock, hm?"

Thrusting his hips just a bit, the back of Rowan's head hit against the door, and Harry bit down on his bottom lip as he groaned. He could hear her gagging, and he watched as saliva began to drip down her chin.

Rowan was loving it though, growing so slick and sticky between her thighs just by choking on his dick. She could see the sheen of sweat glistening along his hairline, and her eyes slipped shut as Harry pushed in as far as he could. She focused on breathing through her nose as she felt him twitch - causing her to moan around him.

Her nails dug into his skin, and Harry gave a quick buck of his hips before pulling out completely. Rowan gasped for breath, water streaming down her cheeks as she lifted her hand to wipe the back of it over her mouth and her chin. Drops of arousal leaked from Harry's tip just at the sight of Rowan - her mascara slightly smudged underneath her eyes. and her lips were red and swollen.

"You liked that, yeah?" Harry tilted his head to the side, and Rowan nodded up at him. She ran her hands over his thighs, still staring at his face as she leaned down to press her lips against his tiger tattoo. "How about you let my hands free, and I'll teach you what that throat of yours can really do?"

Rowan didn't hesitate to push herself up a bit and shuffle over to the side to undo Harry's hands. Once free, Harry rotated his wrists a couple of times before he quickly shifted their position. He was now pressed firmly with his back against the door, Rowan back in front of him with her fingertips dancing over his ferns.

"Open that mouth up."

Obeying quickly, Rowan separated her lips as Harry cradled his cock in his palm. He tapped his tip against her bottom lip a couple times, and she closed around it to suck gently. Harry stared down at her with hooded lids as Rowan gripped at his hips.

"You ready, pretty baby?" Rowan hummed in response, moving her hands around to grip his ass firmly. "You pinch my hip if it gets to be too much, alright?"

Rowan showed him her understanding by pressing against his cheeks, and lowering herself on him again. Chuckling, Harry placed both of his large hands on the back of Rowan's head before pushing her all the way down in one go. A squeal rattled in her chest before she began to gag again - shutting her eyes tight.

Harry huffed out, holding her down for a few seconds before he started up his strategic thrusts.

"You know," he breathed, chest heaving slightly. "If we were still acting like we hated each other, I would make a comment about how your mouth serves more purpose wrapped around my cock than when you're actually speaking."

Rowan shifted her legs, trying to do something to take care of the throbbing happening below. Even though she knew that Harry didn't actually feel that way about her anymore, that didn't mean the degradation didn't continue to turn her on.

This time around, more tears were streaking Rowan's face, and there was spit everywhere - along Harry's cock, and over Rowan's cheeks and chin. Her saliva was running down her neck just a bit, but this sight was something Harry wanted embedded into his brain forever.

"God - you look so fucked out," Harry grunted, and Rowan opened her eyes to see him again. "But I'm not gonna come in your mouth."

Harry popped off quickly, pulling back as Rowan dropped her palms to the tiled floor beneath her - coughing while trying to catch her breath. Once her breathing had settled, she ran her hands over her face once again to clean herself up.

"Where do you want me, Rowan?" He asked, helping her onto her feet after situating his still hard member back into his briefs, both them and his pants loosely hanging on his hips.

Rowan walked forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, and Harry was quick to lift her up so she could cross her ankles against his lower back.

"Take me on top of your dresser, please," she whispered, tapping her nose against his.

She thought back to when he was in her guest room dressed as Danny, and how she so desperately wished he would've taken her on top of that dresser. Harry nodded, and he walked them into his bedroom. Excitement surged through Rowan's body when she saw his dresser was the perfect height, and that they would fit together so comfortably.

Harry was careful as he placed her down, and he went to grab the hem of her dress to pull it up, but she shook her head. "Clothes on for a bit," she said breathlessly, just pushing the garment up so he could see her thong before she quickly pulled it to the side to expose her glistening core.

"Oh fuck me," Harry said, his eyes wide as he stared down at her.

He was quickly brought back to what was happening when Rowan squirmed, and he pushed his briefs and jeans down just enough to get him out again. Giving himself a couple of strokes as his other hand gripped one of her hips, he pulled her closer to the edge of her dresser.

"Please," she practically begged, still holding her underwear but her free hand was gripping to one of his biceps.

Harry walked forward, his tip nudging against Rowan's entrance, causing her to throw her head back with a gasp. He leaned down to sponge his lips along the side of her neck - the tip of his nose running along her jawline.

"And why this scenario, Ro, hm?" He asked, voice dripping as his dominant side was truly taking hold once again. "Wouldn't have anything to do when I got you all weak in the knees against that dresser that night, would it?"

Rowan moaned as Harry began to suck aggressively at the spot right below her ear, eyes slipping shut. She gripped harder to his bicep, moving her hips up and down to have his tip running through her folds. "It would," she admitted with a note. "Yes, it would."

Harry's lips parted as he allowed his teeth to graze against her skin. "Thought so, and for that, I'm going to fuck you like I would've that night. I had all that pent up anger, and I wanted to take it out on not only you, but your tight little cunt."

A scream like moan bounced off the walls of Harry's room as he sunk himself into Rowan in one go. Her breath was then stolen from her, and her eyes shot open as she stared at his ceiling. She hadn't been with anyone since the last time she had Harry, and he usually let her get accustomed to his size, but not today.

Her pussy fluttered around him rapidly as he stretched her. Rowan's nails sunk into his skin, and she moved her other hand from her underwear to wrap against the back of his neck. Harry lifted his head to rest his forehead against hers, their heavy pants filling the room.

"God, I've missed you," she whined, tapping the tips of their noses together.

"Did you miss me?" Harry gave another thrust of his hips, Rowan's jaw completely going slack as she groaned out in pleasure. "Or did you miss my cock?"

Rowan's heart was pounding against her chest, and her skin felt like it was on fire being this close to him once again.

"Y-you," she breathed, giving him a sloppy kiss to his lips while clenching around him. "Missed you."

Harry's eyes flashed from lust to an unknown softness for just a moment, but they quickly returned to their darkened state. "Wrong answer," he teased as he brought his lips down to her ear. "Because remember I told you I'm going to fuck you like I would have that night? I'm going to fuck you even harder than I did the first time, because you're my whore, isn't that right?"

Rowan squirmed underneath him, trying to move her hips to get some friction, but Harry's hands were quick to grab her waist - stilling her. "Answer me, or I'm going to pull out, and you'll have to hear me make myself come through the bathroom door."

Rowan's eyes quickly glanced over to the door to his ensuite before looking back to him. "Yes," she agreed, giving him a few nods out of desperation. "Yes, I'm your whore, sir. And I would like for you to fuck me like it."

Again, she was surprising Harry with the names she was using, only ever having called him by his name previously. He just figured she wasn't one for pet names or name play, but he was clearly wrong.

Harry hummed while bringing his face back up to have a clear look at Rowan. He slipped one hand down her waist to cup under her thigh, pulling that leg a little further out and higher. He'd be using it as leverage, knocking his hip against her other knee. Rowan caught on, and spread that leg further out as well, but left it dangling beside his own.

"And you're going to take it, right?" He asked, beginning to slowly roll his hips. "Because you love feeling me so deep."

Rowan continued her nods, feeling fuzzy all over from Harry's partial movements. She needed more or else she felt she could surely combust. "So deep, please," she whimpered. "Want to feel you in my tummy."

With a large groan, Harry began thrusting in and out of Rowan at an aggressive and rapid pace. Rowan believed her jaw had truly become unhinged as she mewled, dropping her forehead against the side of his neck. She knew that her thigh would be bruised from his grip on it, and that her pelvis may be as well from the knocking of their hips.

Harry caressed Rowan's waist as he moved his hand to the small of her back, using it as extra leverage to continue fucking into her. His eyes fell to her breasts jiggling against the sweetheart neckline of her dress, and if this position was a little better, he'd be grazing his teeth along the swells of them - leaving love bites to mark them as his own.

"So tight," he growled as Rowan lifted her head up to look at him. Her eyes were glazed over, and her jaw was finally closing. "How are you still so tight when I've been pounding into you like this for months? Made just for me, hm?"

Rowan moaned at his words due to the fact she felt the same way. No one had filled her as deeply or as wonderfully as Harry, and she knew no one ever could. She didn't want anyone to. She only wanted him.

Him, him, him.

They could each feel Rowan's arousal spreading between both of their thighs, and it was honestly turning Harry on even more. Rowan's toes began to curl in her wedges, and her one hand was trying to find anywhere to claw onto him.

"Can you feel me, Ro? Can you feel me in your tummy?"

"Mhmm," Rowan hummed, using her hold on the back of Harry's neck to bring his lips down to hers.

The kiss was messy, their teeth slightly clashing together and their tongues just gliding over each other.

Barely being able to keep herself upright, Rowan could feel herself clenching down around Harry's length. She pulled away from his lips, resting her cheek against one of his biceps. Her eyes fluttered open, and she took in the sight of Harry's large bed behind him.

"Harry," she spoke up, pulling back to look up at him once again. "Can we move to the bed?"

His movements stopped, and after a moment, he lifted one of his hands to cup her cheek. "Is that what you want, love?"

They had never had sex in a bed before. It was always on Rowan's couch, or over the armchair, on her dining table or on the kitchen counter. On the couch it would be Rowan on top of him, but on any other surface, it was Harry's chest pressed against her back - taking her from behind.

"I do," she whispered, giving him a soft smile. "I really do."

Harry leaned down for a kiss as he pulled out, both of them groaning a bit as the loss of contact. He carefully helped her off the dresser, Rowan teetering on her legs just a bit.

"You know, you haven't stripped in a month from what I've heard," she stated, smiling up at Harry. "Do you think you still got it?"

Harry looked at her with a crooked grin. "Wanna be my first client back?" He asked as he tucked himself back into his briefs before guiding Rowan to sit on the edge of his bed. "You can let me know if my performance still meets your expectations?"

Rowan shrugged, leaning back on her palms on the bed. "Doesn't seem quite right for me to be the first client. I haven't paid you."

"It's on the house," Harry confirmed, his lips ghosting over hers as he grasped at her hips once again.

Shaking her head, Rowan rested her hands on Harry's shoulders. "There has to be some sort of transaction."

Only a few seconds later, still keeping her eyes on Harry's, she felt his fingertips creeping up her inner thigh. He pulled Rowan's underwear to the side, keeping their top lips connected. "I can think of something that's of worth to me."

Harry sank his middle and ring fingers into Rowan's entrance with ease. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as his knuckles rubbed against her walls in such a satisfying manner on the way in, and she let that breath out once she felt the pads of his fingers right against her g spot.

This was another first. He had never fingered her before.

It obviously felt different than his prick inside of her, but Rowan was seeing stars. She never told him, but she did have a slight obsession with his hands. The way his nails looked when they were painted along with the veins that coated the tops of them. She made note of how long his fingers were, but they seemed to be the perfect thickness.

She was right about that last one. They felt so snug inside of her, and when he began to curl them, she thought she was going to come right then.

"Oh, fuck, Harry," she blurted out, feeling Harry swipe the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Harry chuckled. "In terms of pleasuring a woman? Absolutely not. Always been known to give a woman exactly what she wants. I'm very in tune with the reactions of bodies when it comes to touch, to words, and to looks. But you know something, Rowan? You're the only one I know like the back of my hand."

Rowan let out a loud moan, clenching around his fingers at his words. The fact he took the time to learn what she liked and didn't like, being able to tell just by the way she looked or how her body moved had her head reeling. No one had ever paid attention to her in that way, not even Dalton.

Harry guided his fingers in and out of her for a bit, liking the bliss that was coating Rowan's face as he did so. After a few moments, he pulled them out and brought them up to his mouth to clean them.

"You stay right here, and I'll start the music."

Excitement swirled in Rowan's stomach as she continued to sit on the side of the bed, her legs hanging off the side. Although Harry's cock and fingers had just been inside of her, and he had removed both of them, she didn't even care. She was curious of what was to come, and she knew she would be more confident this time with him stripping in front of her.

The music began to bounce off the walls, and Rowan bit down on her bottom lip to conceal her smile. She recognized the song immediately from the beginning beat. Harry appeared back in front of her, taking both of Rowan's hands in his own.

"Climb on board. We'll go slow and high tempo. Light and dark. Hold me hard and mellow."

He smirked down at her, and she watched as the tip of his tongue bulged out of his cheek while he ran it along the side of his mouth. New arousal was pooling in her underwear, and she kept her eyes on Harry's face as he placed one of her hands over one of his clothed pecs.

"This feels familiar, doesn't it?" Harry asked as he moved her other hand underneath his shirt, letting her run her fingers and palm over his abs.

Rowan clenched around nothing at the skin to skin contact, especially when she could tell she was touching the butterfly inked into his skin due to the outline of her fingers through the material of his shirt.

"It does," Rowan agreed with a soft laugh as Harry walked closer to her, causing her to separate her legs even further.

He was still fully hard in his briefs and his pants, and she could tell that he had done some rearranging so that she could see it perfectly. As much as she wanted him back inside of her, she wanted this just as bad.

The teasing. The touching. The anticipation of what was to come.

"Don't have to tell you to breathe this time," he whispered, grinding his covered length against the inside of her knee.

Rowan giggled softly, causing a large smile to grow on Harry's lips. He has never heard her laugh so genuinely before, and it caused a warmth to bloom inside his chest.

"You sound so pretty when you laugh, Ro," Harry stated while moving both of her hands to rest on his hips.

Harry lifted a hand and gripped his shirt between his shoulder blades. He swiftly pulled the article of clothing over his head - tossing it to the side without a care. The cross pendant on his necklace rested beautifully between his two swallows, and her eyes trailed lower to where she could see the leaves of his ferns peeking over his waistband.

"Well, you're just pretty," Rowan blurted out without even thinking, and her neck flush with her confession.

They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before Rowan leaned down, beginning to kiss over his chest. Harry sighed out, head rolling back on his shoulders as he felt her lips against his skin. She kissed over his patch of chest hair before making her way to one of his nipples. Opening her eyes, she peered up at Harry as she let her tongue flick against it.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he looked down at her with parted lips. No woman had ever tried to play with his nipples before. The fact that he wasn't pushing her off made Rowan feel confident, and she closed her lips around the bud - sucking gently.

Humming in satisfaction, Harry tugged his bottom lip through his teeth. He lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Rowan's ear, resting his knee on the bed between her legs. She popped off his one nipple and made her way over to the other as she pressed her core against his leg - needing to relieve the throbbing that was driving her mad.

She scraped her teeth just gently against the other nipple before kissing over his chest again, smirking as she pressed kisses to his extra two nipples.

Harry let a small laugh rattle in his chest as he watched her, shaking his head. "You know, it's funny to see you kissing those when you tried to hold them against me the first time we met."

Rowan frowned softly at his words, pulling her lips away from his skin. "Harry, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean what I-"

Cutting her off, Harry delicately placed his lips against hers, and they both realized this was the softest kiss they had ever shared. She lifted her hand to rest against his cheek as they slowly massaged their lips together, Harry's hand moving to cup the back of her head.

Harry pulled away after a moment, resting his forehead against hers. "Maybe I have lost my groove a bit."

"No," Rowan disagreed with a shake of her head, tilting her chin up just a bit to press another quick kiss to his bottom lip. "This is just your groove with me."

The phrase she spoke swam through Harry's ears like a melody, and he wondered if that was the truth.

He moved his knee off the bed and wrapped his hands around the tops of her thighs. Pushing her legs together, he allowed himself to straddle her between his long legs.

"Do you want to do the honors? Or shall I?" He asked, tilting his chin down to his pants.

Rowan hadn't undressed him in their prior encounters, and the thought of it had her pushing her legs even harder together.

"If I may," she smirked, reaching out to undo the button.

She pulled the zipper down as well, having the more loose fitting trousers fall around Harry's ankles once undone. Slipping a finger into the waistband of his briefs, Rowan kissed down Harry's bicep.

"Just take them off, Ro."

Rowan didn't need to be told twice. She pulled his briefs down, and Harry shifted his legs to work them the rest of the way down before kicking them off.

Now that he was fully naked again in front of her, Rowan allowed her eyes to trail over his built and toned frame. She stifled the whimper that wanted to leave her just by looking at him.

"Fuck," she muttered, her stomach twisting in exhilaration.

Her eyes followed Harry as he lowered himself down onto the floor, immediately burying his face between Rowan's thighs. She gasped, pulling her dress up so she could tangle her fingers into his curls. His facial hair brushed against her skin, and it caused her to break out in goosebumps. Harry's teeth snagged her thong, and he moved backwards to pull it down her legs.

Remaining lowered, he raised his torso up a bit to put one of her legs on his shoulder, kissing over her calf as he undid the ankle strap of her wedge, allowing it to fall off her foot. He repeated the same action on the other leg before standing.

"Are you ready, baby?" He asked, caressing Rowan's thighs.

"Harry, please."

Harry lined himself up before sinking himself back into Rowan, pulling her all the way to the edge of the bed with his hands on her hips.

"Oh...oh my god," she panted, cupping Harry's ribcage.

With fluid motions, Harry rolled his hips, finding something so erotic in the fact Rowan was still dressed and he wasn't. Her dress was bunched up around her waist - still giving him a perfect view of where he disappeared inside of her.

"Can...can I take your dress off?" Harry huffed, still keeping up the rhythm he had established.

"Yes, yes," Rowan gasped as Harry's thumb moved to rub small circles against her clit.

Harry growled as he grabbed the hem of the article of clothing, throwing it across the room to reveal a lacey black bra. It was a bit transparent in the cups, revealing her nipples to him.

"You wear this just f'me?" He grunted, rocking his hips harder against hers.

"I did," she confirmed with a nod of her head. "I know how to get my way, and my way was seeing you today. I wanted to have something special on for you."

Arms wrapping securely around her waist, Harry moved Rowan up and towards the headboard. He shifted both of their bodies around to where Rowan was laid down against his pillows, and he was hovering over her.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, never having been under him before. Harry tried to push the doubts out of his mind as his hands gripped to his headboard, and he began to rock his hips against hers once again.

Rowan mewled out, hands skating all over Harry's body to find somewhere to latch onto - somewhere to hold that felt right considering just how hard he was giving it to her again. Her eyes wandered over his long and chiseled torso before meeting his eyes.

Both of their pupils were blown, and Rowan hiked her knees up just right against his hips. Her hands now found their home in the creases of his arms, and their eye contact didn't dare break as she moved her hips to meet Harry's thrusts.

One of Harry's hands traveled down to reach behind Rowan's back, tips of his fingers teasing the clasp of her bra. She arched her back, letting out a moany breath as Harry hit just the right spot, and he let out a moan of his own as he tore the lingerie from body.

His eyes wandered from her face to stare down at her tits as they bounced to the same beat as his thrusts.

"W-wait," Rowan gasped, clutching to Harry's arms. "Wait."

Concern immediately covered Harry's features, and he stopped all movements. He went to pull out, and Rowan quickly grasped his hips to keep him inside.

"Can...can you hold me?"

Vulnerability washed completely over Rowan as she stared up at Harry. He kept his hands on the headboard, both of their chests concaving with each deep breath they took.

When Harry continued to stare down at her, Rowan cowered away from her request. She felt foolish, and figured that this wasn't what he wanted. She thought that maybe this whole thing today didn't mean as much to him as it did her.

"Y-you want me to hold you?" 

Rowan slowly moved her fingers up to wrap around Harry's wrists, removing his hands from the headboard.

"Will you? Please?"

She moved his hands down to rest on her breasts, finding that was the most logical place to start. Harry caressed the soft mounds of flesh before leaning down to place kisses along her collarbone.

"Want me close?" Harry crooned, lips running along her jawline.

Rowan let out a noise of eagerness as her nails slightly dug into Harry's back. "Harry, I-I'm not teasing. I want to feel you - all of you."

Hands moving to cradle Harry's face, Rowan leaned up to press their lips together. Harry moved his hands from her breasts to wrap his arms around her torso, pressing their chests right against each other.

The intimacy was a bit scary, but it felt so good for the both of them. They didn't need to say anything, they knew this was different than any sex they may have had before.

Rowan hummed against Harry's lips as she pulled away, moving her hands up from his elbows to grip onto his biceps.

"You feel so good, Ro," he praised her, swallowing harshly. "You've always felt so good, but this...I really like the real you."

Rowan could have cried at the compliment that he gave her. It had been so long since someone actually expressed a genuine liking for her, but that was her own fault. She hadn't let anyone see the real her for quite some time.

"And I really like the real you," Rowan agreed. "I'm not embarrassed, or ashamed of you. I want you, Harry. I want this."

Harry's heart swelled, and he gave her a large smile. "I want this so fucking bad. I've wanted you like this for so long."

"Well you have me now - for however long you want me."

"I'm pretty sure I'm always going to want you," Harry reassured her with a nod. "You're so perfect.

Rowan was sure that her smile was now matching just how wide Harry's was. "You're perfect too. So fucking perfect."

Both of them knew they were nearing their ends. Between the foreplay, and him already being inside of her previously, their orgasms were quickly approaching.

Harry started up his hard thrusts again, and Rowan tilted her head back into the pillows. He leaned down to nip at her neck, leaving a small bruise right at the hinge of her jaw.

"I'm about to come, Harry," she moaned, moving her hands to rest against his shoulder blades, nails digging down his back. "Oh fuck, baby. I'm gonna come."

Rowan gasped as she stared up at him, her orgasm washing over her beautifully, and Harry once again waited for what he wanted to truly see. It was only a few seconds until the corners of her lips twitched up, and he saw that blissful smile take over.

"You smile when you come, did you know that?" He grunted out, electric like zaps tapping all over his body with his climax approaching. "I watch for it every single time. So gorgeous, Ro."

Eyebrows raising a bit, Rowan shook her head. "I-I didn't know that. It might just be a thing that happens because of you, I think."

They both laughed softly, and Rowan moved her hands to rub over Harry's chest before cupping the sides of his neck. "Come for me, Harry," she whispered as she ghosted her lips along his jawline. "Let me feel all of you."

Harry whimpered as his orgasm began to flow through him, and Rowan leaned back to get the perfect view of his face as he did. His eyes were shut, and his jaw was slack as he continued his messy thrusts. He looked so beautiful, and she couldn't believe that she had the pleasure of seeing someone so stunning like this.

Once he completely rode out his high, Harry let his body rest on top of hers, still being mindful not to put all of his weight down. Rowan's fingers played with the soft curls on the back of his head, eyes shut as she took in this moment.

After a few seconds, her eyes snapped open and she looked down at Harry who's head was resting on her breasts.

"Harry, your friends!" She exclaimed with a gasp. "You were supposed to meet them."

Harry chuckled as he pushed himself up to look down at her. "I had an hour before I had to meet them. It's okay."

Rowan sighed softly and nodded. She would've felt bad if she had kept him from his plans.

"I'm gonna pull out."

Both of them let out a small noise as Harry did so, and he quickly grabbed tissues off his nightstand to begin wiping up the mixture of their orgasms that began to travel down Rowan's skin.

Once he finished, he threw them away but continued to hover over her - forearm propped up beside her head. Harry danced his fingertips over Rowan's cheek, tilting his head to the side.

"Do you want to come with me?" Harry asked. "Meet my friends, have some good food and a few drinks. Then we can come home, and we can do this all over again."

Rowan was a bit shocked that he asked her, honestly. She took a minute to process his request before licking over her lips. "You'd want me to go with you?"

"Well, I asked you, didn't I?"

Rolling her eyes, Rowan wrapped her hand around the back of Harry's neck to quickly bring his lips down to hers. She let them stay there for a moment before slightly pulling back. "I'd love to."

#harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles smutty one shot #harry styles one shot #one shot #harry styles ff #fanfic #fanfiction

[bearhugsandshrugs]

Folie á Deux: Bonus Chapter

Read the whole fic on AO3 Read just the new chapter on AO3 this fic was the first pure smut piece that I wrote and it was so well received that it motivated me for months. I recently had inspiration to write more chapters for it so here it goes. you can read this one without the previous ones

fem!Tav x Raphael x Haarlep and all combinations of them

“Ah! My favorite client.” Raphael was lounging on a couch in his boudoir, watching Haarlep pound into a man relentlessly on the bed, when Tav walked in. 

She tried to keep a neutral face, but her eyes dragged over again and again towards the incubus and his current partner. Victim.

“Quite the show, isn’t it?”, the devil asked her, chuckling, not taking his eyes off the bed. “But I’m afraid you can’t join. Contractual obligations.”

Shaking her head, she walked over to where Raphael was sitting. Neither Haarlep nor his partner gave any indication that they paid attention to them or even heard them.

“Every time you say I’m your client you sound like a whore”, Tav teased sweetly, and Raphael laughed loudly and fully. She’d come to enjoy the sound of his laughter nearly as much as her time at the House of Hope, even though it had been a while since her last visit.

“If you want to be naughty today, I have just the treatment for that”, the devil said slowly, tone low and mellow, but the threat shone through nevertheless. He tore his gaze away from the bed and smirked at her. “Are you? Naughty, pet?”

Tav swallowed. It felt like a trap, but then again, they’d established a dynamic that was on eye level as much as it could be, given the circumstances.  “Yes”, she tried holding her head a little higher. “I am.”

Over on the bed the man came with a loud moan, and Haarlep pulled out of him quickly, sighing exasperatedly.  “Marvelous”, Raphael clasped his hands together, addressing his house guest, “it was a pleasure doing business with you.” 

The man sobbed, it was unclear why, but Haarlep found it terribly amusing. “Take him back, master, please?” He looked at the devil, and a small smile played around his lips as he noticed Tav already waiting on the couch.

“Of course”, Raphael replied and snapped his fingers, and the stranger disappeared – leaving only a sweaty outline on the bed behind. Grimacing, he snapped his fingers again and a servant appeared, hastily fixing the bed while Raphael looked on with a frown.

Haarlep, meanwhile, walked into the restoration fountain, still erect, washing himself clean. “It’s good to see you again, darling”, he greeted Tav sweetly, pulling back his foreskin as he made eye contact with her. “You should join me in the bath.”

“Yes”, Raphael agreed absentmindedly, still watching the servant clean; grunting in disapproval when she skipped a particular spot only he saw as messy. “Join him.”

Tav took off her clothes, leaving them neatly folded on the couch, then dipped into the fountain. The water was pleasantly warm, and she immediately felt the magic soothe her skin, relaxing the tension in her muscles, and softening her features. Sinking down, she let the water envelop her up to her throat, and Haarlep stood nearby, watching her intently. 

“Come here”, he purred, beckoning Tav towards him. She stood back up to join him – in truth, she longed to touch his body, run her hands over his chest and down between his legs, feel the ridges of his body and wrap her mouth around as many of his parts as she could. Maybe he could tell, because the way he smirked when she stood close was full of recognition. Behind her, she heard the servant leave, then Raphael shuffle, but she knew better than to turn around unless asked to. Her attention was demanded in front of her.

“I feel terribly tired after this exertion”, Haarlep sighed, wetting his lips before he continued, “Why don’t you make yourself useful?” 

He handed her a sponge and smirked expectantly. There would be no complaint from her. Leisurely and with care Tav started brushing over the incubus’ body, taking in every piece of him as she slid her hands, along with the sponge, over his entire body; making sure to cradle his balls and stroke his cock with languid motions. Haarlep brought his hands up to her face, cupping her cheek, then dragging one, sharp claw all the way down between her breasts as she tightened her grip around him. 

“Not forgetting the wings, are we?”, he interrupted her, teasing, grinning, as he ran his hands over her body. 

Oh. Tav swallowed, tearing herself away from him to step to the side. His wings were wide and large, and she had to move and stretch to reach them. She carefully wiped at the broad, extended wings that looked almost too tender to touch. Feeling them in her hands, however, revealed more strength in them than expected: They felt like smooth leather, and Haarlep groaned when she reached the tips, clearly sensitive. 

She wondered how they’d feel against her skin, inside her mouth. From the corner of her eye she saw Haarlep watch her, mouth twitching upwards, amused. He’d never asked her to touch them before. He’d never even let her near them before.

Meeting his gaze she brought her mouth towards one of the clawing tips, lips wrapping carefully around the end. The incubus sighed with delight, and from behind her she heard someone else draw in a sharp breath: Raphael. 

The wing tasted like copper and sugar, an alluring taste that made her want to explore them more. But she wasn’t granted her desire: Haarlep moved them away from her, straightening up so that the wings rose higher, and Tav’s mouth was left with nothing. 

“Eager as always”, Raphael commented from the sidelines.Then, addressing Haarlep, he added: “If she enjoys the wings so much, maybe you should let her have them.”

“What a wonderful idea”, the incubus giggled. Taking Tav’s hand he pulled her out of the fountain, taking the few steps with stride. 

The air brushed coolly against her body, and she was looking for a towel to dry herself when she felt it: Haarlep, pulling her tightly against his body. He brought his hands up to her tits and squeezed, his entire palms cupping them, fingers hungrily pressing into the flesh. His face loomed above her, and he raised an eyebrow teasingly when he looked down on her. 

“Having a thing for the devil’s form, do we?”, he giggled, pinching her nipples so hard Tav cried out, before his voice hardened. “Answer me.” “Y-yes”, she replied, excitement settling in her chest. 

Haarlep pulled her into him, his hands settling on her neck as his right wing whirled completely around her upper body, and the other wrapped around her legs. They enveloped her entire body tightly, pressing against every inch of her skin. They were warm, and strong, and far more flexible than she’d thought. More importantly, they held her in place: There was no chance she could move. Her legs and arms were locked within them, so tightly that it felt almost claustrophobic, every part of her paralyzed. Movements rippled through the wings like waves, massaging her breasts, her ass, her thighs. It felt maddening.

Heat pooled down between her legs as Haarlep’s wings covered her body. He watched her, lips parted with curiosity. And then… Something slid against the inside of her thigh, slowly creeping upwards. 

“Let’s see how you take this”, Haarlep giggled, bringing his mouth to hers for a greedy kiss as his tail dipped into her entrance. It pushed in effortlessly, her folds already wet, and the incubus chuckled with a low voice as his tail moved deeper and deeper inside her body. Tav drew a sharp breath in against his lips, overwhelmed by all the sensations: The wings still rubbing against her breasts and her ass, his tail twirling and curling inside her cunt, his greedy tongue playing with her mouth…

Through the wings she could feel his erection press against her core, and for a moment she imagined he was fucking her as his tail pumped in and out. Tav realized it was broader than it looked. It had easily the girth of two fingers, making her feel like she was getting fingered by a bendy, leathery, ….. Something. 

Her breathing picked up as the incubus continued his assault with his tail, continuously switching between kissing her and lapping broad licks over her entire face before biting at her neck. His hands were in her hair, around her throat, and every time she moaned he’d squeeze a little tighter. It was getting hard for Tav to breathe: Between the wings pressing down onto her body and his fingers tightening around her airways, she was getting lightheaded. If he wouldn’t stop, she’d surely lose consciousness–

“Stop”, she whimpered, even though her cunt was screaming at her to let him go on, have his way with her until she came. “Please.” Haarlep paused, but Raphael’s voice came smoothly from behind them: “Go on.”

Tav wanted to protest, wanted to say something, but Haarlep brought one of his hands up from her throat to her face, shoving three of his fingers inside her mouth. Down between her legs his tail started moving again, pushing in and out of her in sync with his fingers between her lips, rolling and teasing at every sensitive spot it could find. 

Her vision started to blur as the incubus fucked her closer and closer to the edge, his wings pressing against her as tightly as before. Tav moaned helplessly around his fingers, eyes wide, her lungs gasping for air between it all. Just before she blacked out, Haarlep pulled the tail out of her, his tip instead rubbing circles around her clit. She came instantly, her body convulsing and shuddering involuntarily in place, his wings rippling pressure onto her skin, teasing out the last bits of her high.  

When he released her, she stumbled backwards, gasping for air and recovery; but she was caught by a strong set of arms and another ridged body: Raphael’s. 

He had changed into his cambion form, and he was tall, so tall, the top of her head meeting the center of his chest. 

“If you want to act like a naughty little whore, we’ll treat you like one”, he whispered into her hair as she groaned at his touch. “Such a pity to see you’re still pretending you aren’t one.” “Go fuck yourself”, she grunted, trying to catch her breath.  “Oh pet, I am, often enough. But that’s not what you’re here for, is it?”

Opposite of her, Haarlep giggled. “Maybe she should fuck herself”, he offered, and Raphael sighed behind her.  “Hmmm, excellent idea”, he replied, running his hands over her stomach up to her breasts. Tav wanted to push him off, slap him and then his stupid incubus, but if she was being honest, the way Haarlep had used her had been hotter than it had any right to be. She longed to be touched, again and more, until she forgot her own name. 

Haarlep changed into a new form as a small shiver ran down Tav’s spine. She didn’t recognize who he turned into at first, but then she looked at a familiar facial structure, spotting the same freckles, the same dimples, the same little scars, only rougher, sharper, more angular. The incubus had turned into her – or, a version of her, one that was masculine. And had a penis.

Her gaze immediately dipped down between the incubus’ legs, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Haarlep laughed, bringing his hand to his cock, and when he started stroking himself, Tav felt a flash of lightning spark in her core. It felt strange, but great; a phantom sensation that was so different yet so similar to her touching herself. 

Above her, Raphael chuckled and started playing with her tits, pulling at her nipples, scratching over her skin with his claws, squeezing her flesh again and again until she started to whimper. His erection pressed against her lower back, and when she tried to reach backwards, wanting to touch him, he slapped her breasts so hard she yelped.

“Squeaky little mouse”, he sighed with amusement, then pushed her away from him towards Haarlep, who caught her, laughing. “Let’s see if you last longer than the master”, the incubus said with a sweet smile, the mockery barely hidden underneath. His voice was deep, the bass vibrating in her core – already, he turned her on, simply by existing as her male mirror.

She knew this would be intense.

“Can’t we take a break?”, Tav asked without thinking, still trying to stabilize her breathing after what had happened moments before. “Breaks are for good little sluts”, Haarlep frowned, adding strictly: “But you’re a naughty whore. ” 

She swallowed. While she could leave at any time, she… didn’t want to. Not when the thought of feeling Haarlep inside her made her heart flutter. Not when she hadn’t even touched Raphael.

Well then.

Lying down on the bed wasn’t bad, actually. It was a short moment of rest, relaxing and comfortable, the fresh sheets smelling like soap and cherries. Haarlep grinned as he joined her, pulling her hips towards him, then spreading her legs so she was open wide. 

“Let’s see”, he sighed, lining himself up against her. The tip of his cock dragged through her wetness, and Tav immediately groaned. It was absurd to feel this on both ends, an onslaught of sensation already.

From the corner of her eye she saw Raphael lazily lean back on a couch, watching them, slowly stroking his cambion cock.

Haarlep pushed her thighs down as he entered her, and Tav sobbed out a moan from overwhelm. She felt herself: hot and wet and tight; and she felt the incubus’ version of her, hard and thick and rubbing against her walls. Wondering how it would feel if she touched his chest, she reached out for him, pulling him down to her. Haarlep was happy to comply: He ran his hands over her body while he kissed her, and Tav whimpered under his touch. When his lips met hers she felt like she was kissing someone else, and that someone else was kissing another stranger, and that stranger also kissed her – every sensation bouncing off of each other, just like the cock inside her cunt, stretching her, pushing into her, while she clenched around him again and again, trying out what new feelings she could draw out of him. Out of herself. 

It was too much for her to last long, but Haarlep wouldn’t grant her release. Laughing, he paused, straightening up again. 

“Now that you’ve had a taste, get to work”, he demanded, and Tav looked at him in confusion in response.  “What?” “Fuck yourself. On me.” He grinned, pulling her legs up so she could wrap them around his waist. That’s when she understood: He wanted her to get herself off on him while he sat there, buried inside her, watching. 

Groaning in frustration and need, Tav started grinding against him, immediately noticing how good it still felt, but how odd it was with this change of pace, one part of her seemingly in stasis. 

She used her arms to steady herself and prop herself up, trying to find a better angle, or maybe rub her clit, when she suddenly saw Raphael climb onto the bed, still in devil form. He was almost comically large, easily over a head taller than Haarlep in her male version, and his wings spanned nearly across the room when he opened them, eyes piercing her with interest.

The tip of his cambion cock pressed into her back – no, it was Haarlep’s back – and his hands wrapped around her – no, his – throat, steering Haarlep’s face backwards to meet him. And then: He kissed him. Her. Him. 

She felt Raphael’s lips on her, but of course he wasn’t making out with her, but with his incubus. They kissed lazily, slowly, vulgarly: tongues lapping at each other, over their mouths and teeth, lips sucked in then released, teeth biting down again and again until Tav tasted copper. The two men looked so hot, so into it, that she couldn’t tear her gaze away from them while she tried to pick up the pace, rolling her hips into the incubus with desperation. Worse: they completely ignored her. Raphael did not shoot her a glance once, while Haarlep sat still, upper body turned towards the devil. Neither of them cared that she was there. Neither of them bothered with her. 

And that was what sent her over the edge. After only a few moments, which she felt were entirely too short, she came. Crying out half from release, half from shame from her blatant neediness, Tav gasped for air as she rubbed her core against Haarlep, again and again, trying to drag out her high a little bit longer. 

No use. 

As soon as the walls inside her stopped clenching around his cock, Haarlep pulled out of her, laughing at her. 

“Pathetic”, he hissed, and from behind him, Raphael nodded.  “So needy. So submissive . Have you forgotten everything we taught you?”

Tav shook her head, whimpering out a “N-no” in response.  “That’s not very convincing”, giggled the incubus. 

“True”, Raphael agreed. “Seems like more lessons are in order.”

#bg3 raphael #haarlep #raphael x haarlep #haarlep x tav #raphael x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction

[cherryjuiceblues]

Hiiii! Can you do one where y/n and harry are fucking and hes hitting it from the back and then she starts bouncing her ass back on him and he’s in a trance moaning loud and stuff. Im sorry i need help😭😭😭

anon: Softdom with aftercare anon: Smut frat!harry

✰ frat!harry sexual content. aftercare. minors dni.

Your skin is on fire. Everywhere Harry touches has you sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress, hands gripping tight in his hair. He’s lapping you up after just having made you come with his mouth, mumbling something along the lines of lemme clean you up, baby, as you twitch and gasp in sensitivity. He’s gentle in a way you’ve never experienced from someone his age (and it still manages to shock you), as his thumbs stroke your hips with every noise you make—contrasted by the ravenous way he continues consuming you.

“Can you still take me?” He whispers against your mound, climbing up your body when you nod and whimper, leaving tender kisses as he goes. “Yeah?” Harry sucks a mark underneath your chin and you arch up into him. “Yeah, pretty girl?”

You find your voice. “Yes. I can take you, Harry.”

He smiles against your skin, kissing up to your lips and you open up for him easily, eager to taste yourself. “I know you can,” he says into your mouth. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

And the implications don’t scare you; no matter how not together the two of you are—your body belonged to him the moment he first took you. So you don’t hold back in agreeing. “Made f’you—only you. Please fuck me now.”

Harry bites your chin in response, feigning softness in the pecks he sponges onto your cheeks before he flips you over with ease. The way he manhandles you is exciting and you have to make the conscious effort to position your head to the side so you can breathe. But Harry has it all figured out for you (“Don’t need you to worry about a thing,” he’d once promised with you sitting pretty on his lap) as he props you up on your forearms and pulls you by your hips to his front.

His hardness slips through you and you twitch in anticipation as Harry sighs. He paints himself up and down your folds for a torturous amount of time, daring to push the tip in before withdrawing—teasing you and himself. You’re desperate, chin touching your chest in near madness, as you reach a hand back and search for him. Harry interlocks your fingers and pulls your arm behind your back, giving himself leverage as he finally sinks into you with a choked groan.

Your eyes flutter shut in relief and it doesn’t take long for your other arm to collapse, getting trapped underneath your chest. Harry’s grip is firm on your wrist behind your back, his other hand on your hip as he alternates between fucking you fast and then slow—numbingly hard either way. The way he changes pace makes you dizzy; impossible to stay calm and your body starts reacting on its own.

“Fuck,” Harry moans as you start to bounce back into his thrusts, barely aware of your own movements. His hips stutter. “Yes, fuck baby, that’s so hot.” He lets go of you and leans over your body, chest pressing to your back and hands pushing into the mattress, as you thrust back onto his cock. Harry stops moving, letting you work him how you want, and his mouth becomes loose with fragmented praise that turns into unintelligible noises. You feel his hair brushing your back, forehead dropping in nothing but pleasure. You’re sure he’s never been so bent out of shape.

But you start to tire, and once he notices he’s quick to start up again. His hands grip your waist and push you further into the bed—your knees collapsing—as he fucks into you so deep your jaw falls open; you’re sure it will never close again. “You close?” Harry pants.

Your arms stretch out above you as you cry. “Please don’t stop—oh my god.”

“Come on baby, squeeze my cock,” his voice is so taut, so ready to come.

You clench around him and he lets out another deep groan, hand reaching around to your front to rub your clit in tight circles. This time you clench involuntarily and it doesn’t take much longer until you’re crying out, shoving your face into the mattress and coming around Harry in hot pulsating spasms. He’s sure to work you through it before desperately pulling out and releasing long ribbons onto your ass and lower back. His softening cock rests on you for a moment as you both calm down, breathing loud.

“Don’t move,” Harry says gently after a moment whilst getting up. You don’t dare to, limbs turning to jelly and surely fusing to his bed. He returns with a soft washcloth, smiling to himself when you jump as he wipes his come off you and swipes delicately between your legs. “You still with me?”

You hum although you’re not sure you aren’t asleep. “That was good,” you manage to whisper.

Harry laughs and lays down next to you, tenderly moving you to rest on top of him. “Yeah, it was. Getting harder and harder not to come as soon as I push inside of you,” he brushes your hair away from your face.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you smile with closed eyes.

Harry lets his own eyes close as your heartbeats even out and he falls asleep trying to stay convinced that he’s not completely and utterly in love with you.

sleepover tag!

#cherryjuiceblues sleepover #blurb night #harry styles #writing #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #frat!harry #fratrry #softdom!harry #softdomrry #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagines #harry concept #concept

[toxic3mmy]

I’m having a bad case of baby fever since I’m ovulating hard and I need fic of quackity with gf who’s ovulating like crazy and who’s begging for a baby

ooo baby fever!!! the only person in the world that i would ever want a baby w is alex😞😞 but yes, i got u my lovely <33 thx for the request

[also it cane out a bit diff than what u asked for im sorryyyy!! dont hate me bbg💔💔]

prompt: alex dealing with a baby fever filled gf

no smut but mentions of it ofc!!

everywhere you look, there’s babies. on tv commercials, at your job, even at the grocery store there’s always a baby who won’t stop smiling and cooing your way.

and who would make a cute baby? alex, your boyfriend, that’s who!

he has sparkling honey brown eyes with dark lashes framing them perfectly. his fair skin that has freckles and beautiful face moles. and his hair! he has a full head of hair that would look absolutely perfect on a sweet little baby.

lately, on your free time, you were indulging in this want and need and desire for a baby of your own. you were sneakily watching mommy and baby vlogs. you loved seeing their belly grow and their journey through their pregnancy. you even subscribed yourself to a baby magazine and it was what you looked forward to every time you checked your mail.

but you hid all of this from alex. you knew he probably wouldn’t understand. just how most men don’t understand why women obsessed over weddings and wedding planning. it also didn’t help that you were definitely ovulating.

and right now, you were sat listening to your boyfriend going on about his day. well, not really listening. more like admiring him and imagining him as a father and wow did that turn you on.

“what about you? how was your day?” alex asked suddenly

“oh, you know, i mostly just did my online coursework and cleaned the house a bit. i’ve been bored since you went out..” you said, trying to be inconspicuous

“trust me, i missed you too. now let’s eat. the food you made smells amazing” alex said, getting up to serve himself a plate

he served two plates of food, one for you and one for him. the two of you ate in mostly silence, with casual conversation here and there. once you finished eating, alex offered to wash the dishes since you did the cooking.

you sneakily pulled out your phone and scrolled through your pinterest. of course, you had baby related posts all over your feed and you loved it.

“babe.. this sponge sucks. where are the new ones we got the other day?” your boyfriend asked

“should be in the drawer next to the stove” you absentmindedly responded, eyes glued to your phone

alex opened the drawer and found your stash of baby magazines. he wasn’t blind, he knew what you had been obsessing over lately. this was the perfect time to bring it up. so he grabbed a sponge and washed the dishes. after drying his hands, he turned to face you.

“so… you’ve only been studying all day huh?” alex smirked, holding up one of your prized magazines

your eyes widened. you were at a loss for words.

“i-i uh… my sister is pregnant and um she sent me those to help her pick stuff out and—”

“hmm, addressed to our home to ms. y/n” alex interrupted

“do you think i don’t know by now? i see the way you’ve been looking at anything baby related online. i know you always volunteer to do the grocery shopping just for the chance of running into some mother with a baby… my question here is, why hide it?”

“i didn’t think you’d understand… i know how guys get when their girlfriends start talking about babies and i don’t know. i didn’t want to upset you. i didn’t want to make things weird between us..” you explained softly, expecting alex to get upset

he walked closer to where you were sitting and tucked your hair behind your ear gently.

“i could never be upset with you princesa. you don’t have to hide things like this from me. you know i love kids just as much as you do” he reassured you

you nodded sadly, still feeling a sense of guilt.

“why don’t we start trying?”

your eyes lit up and a huge grin was etched onto your face.

“you really mean it?” you asked and alex nodded with a smile on his face

“i would just adore having a little munchkin running around here. i think you’d be a spectacular mother y/n. i can just imagine them having your big ‘ol eyes and your pretty lips” he caressed your face sweetly

“and your gorgeous freckles… oh my god alex! we would have the most adorable baby in the whole wide world! do you actually want to start trying?”

“yes i do, princesa. we’re in a good place financially and also in a healthy place in our relationship. i wouldn’t want to have a baby with anyone else but you” he smiled

“you’re going to be such an amazing dad. you don’t know how much i’ve daydreamed about you holding our baby in your strong sexy arms. the way you would be super protective over them. i just know you’d have our baby on your chest at all times. you’re so innocent and precious and so so good with kids alex. you are definitely daddy material” you stood from your seat and reached out to hold his hand

“also.. i may or may not pay attention to your ovulation period…” he said seductively

“what?! why? you’re a weirdo!” you teased him

“no! i mean i pay attention to when you write those notes on our calendar! you freak” alex was red in the face and you couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered expression

while you were too busy laughing, he suddenly stood up and pushed you against the wall nearby, trapping you there.

“you’re probably really sensitive right now, aren’t you?” his voice came out in a darker tone

“m-maybe…”

“let me make love to you, princesa. quiero impregnarte ahora mismo. quiero que me sientes y que sientes que te hago la mama de mis hijos chula…” he said, making sure to kiss your neck while he spoke

all you could do was nod. his words alone made you so wet and needy for him already.

“i’ll make sure that after tonight, you’ll definitely become a mother” he smirked, dragging you to your shared bedroom

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #quackity fanfic

[eds6ngel]

second idea: would just love something with a convo about alena calling reader her step-mom or mom, instead of ms. or maybe something with alena calling reader mom for the first time! just cute and fluffy💖

of course honey!! this one is short and sweet, but touching nonetheless ♡

warnings: dad!steve. mom!reader. fem!reader. 90s!au. swearing. food mentions. fluff. comfort. slight mentions of alena's trauma due to motherly neglect. lots of happy tears from alena and reader. this is just extremely cute and endearing really!! [1.3k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

With Steve having to take on a weekend shift at Target, you tackled the weekly Sunday grocery store trip with Alena. Before leaving that morning, Steve gave you an overflowing list of groceries, more than he definitely needed.

“Why does your dad put so much on the list, baby? Like, watermelon. When has your dad ever eaten watermelon?” You were holding onto Alena’s small, soft hand, guiding her with you as you pushed the shopping cart with your left, slowly filling it up with each aisle you pass.

“I like watermelon!” she beams with a smile, you laughing as you reply, “But, not a whole watermelon! If you ate an entire watermelon, your belly would be this big.” You demonstrated by holding your hand out far away from her stomach, her gasping and going, “I would not be that big!”

Tsking with a squint of your eyes, you reply, “Oh, but I think you would, sweetpea! You would have a massive watermelon belly! Big ‘ol belly.”

The conversation with the eight-year-old slowly drifted away as you arrived at the cake aisle. She lets go of your hand, running over and jumping up and down, pointing up and shouting, “Look! A Smurfs cake! A Smurfs cake!”

You look down at her and raise your eyebrows, smirking, “So, instead of a watermelon belly, you want a cake belly?”

“Cake belly sounds better! Can I have the Smurfs cake mubba?”

You delicately lift the box, Papa Smurf stood proudly next to his daughter Smurfette, two huts perched in the background, other Smurfs going about their daily activities presented in different-coloured icings. Turning the box over, it read: ‘A jam and cream sponge, completed with edible icing for decoration.’

“I think…” you stroke your chin, “If we buy this cake, you have to be a good girl to your dad for the rest of the week, okay?”

“And to you! I’ll be a good girl for you too!”

You chuckle, ruffling her hair, “And for me, obviously,” playfully rolling your eyes and placing the cake into the cart, “Smurfs cake it is!”

“Yes!” Alena cheeses, gripping her fist tight and pulling them towards her chest in celebration.

The two of you continue walking down the aisles, having to make a pit-stop for longer than expected at the bread section. Steve had written down ‘loaf of bread’ on the list, but the endless piles of different brands, sizes and types left you in slight confusion. You had recognised that the Harringtons liked their white bread, an easy ignorance to the brown loaves. However, the size of the loaf was something you were unsure on. Since there were only two of them, perhaps three if you stayed overnight and needed a slice of toast for breakfast, you agreed with yourself on the smaller loaf. It was no worry if he indeed did usually buy the bigger loaf, you could always make a stop on your way home from work and pass it over to them.

“All right, Pepperidge Farm’s Hearty White Bread is what we’re going for! Does that sound all right with you Ale—” But, as you look down, the little girl is nowhere to be found. You peer down the aisle, a flowery, yellow dress and brunette pigtails out of sight. Your internal panic begins to rise, deciding to quick power back to the aisle you just visited, wondering if she waltzed back to the chocolate section.

But, you don’t see her. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, deciding your next safest bet was two aisles down, the one after the bread aisle. “Steve’s gonna fucking kill me,” you curse lowly, scared to death that you had lost his daughter. However, before you can make a turn to the right, the end of your cart collides directly into an older woman, her wearing a simple, long black dress, glasses neatly sat on the bridge of her nose.

“I am so sorry—” you begin to profusely apologise, however, the sight of Alena held tightly on her hip makes you let out a lengthy sigh. Thank God she was safe.

But, the word that comes out of her mouth shocks you to your core. “Mommy!”

Mommy. She called you mommy.

“Don’t apologise my dear, it’s okay!” the old woman calms your presence, “I’m assuming this one is yours. Poor baby was scared to death. Said she went around the corner and when she came back, you were gone.”

It’s then that you notice the tears rolling down her face, lips quivering and her holding her arms out, as if she wanted you to grab her. And that was the moment you knew: you were her mom.

The old woman lifts Alena up, you gripping her to your side as you cradle her head, her tears falling onto your bare shoulder. “It’s okay. Mommy’s got you. Mommy’s got you, baby.”

As you look up, the woman is smiling at the pair of you as she says, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. It was a simple mistake, you seem like a wonderful mother.”

You nod, mouthing a small “Thank you” as she bids farewell, attending back to her own grocery shopping around the corner. You cup the back of Alena’s head, stroking her hair as she stares at you with her beautiful, hazel orbs, just like her dad’s. God, they looked so much alike.

“Mommy,” she whispers out, almost as if she said nothing. You smile, letting a few tears fall yourself as you murmur back at the same volume, “Yeah, I’m your mommy, baby.”

And that’s when the waterworks burst for her. Even though she has no recollection or memories of her biological mom, you could tell it still had some heartbreaking effect on her subconsciously. It was a trauma she had no idea existed. You were the first ever figure in her life that resembled a mother, that cared for her like a mother, that supported her like a mother. So, that’s what you were. No, step-mom, no adoptive mom, just mom.

And even though she was eight years old, you cradled her in your arms as if you were caring for a newborn whose emotions were simply too big for their small body. You press a tender kiss to the side of her head, wiping the tears away from her face, making sure the salty liquid doesn’t fall into her mouth, infecting her taste buds.

She whimpers out, “I-I love you, mommy.”

You didn’t realise until that moment what an emotional impact those four words would hold on you. You’ve always wanted to be a mom, ever since you were a little girl. You think that maternal instinct you seemed to have inherited lead you to wanting to become a teacher in the first place. Something about raising kids to become healthy, human adults made you feel warm inside. But, no teaching position could ever come close to feeling the real thing.

“I love you too, baby girl,” you smile back, the pair of you wetly giggling, Alena using her small thumbs to wipe the tears that escaped from your eyes, collecting in a tiny puddle in the middle of your cheeks. “Want to stay on my hip?”

She nods in reply, “Yes, mommy.” God, you were gonna have to get used to that.

“Okay,” you quietly reply, the two of you continuing down the halls of the grocery store, filling the cart with the remaining items that Steve wished you collected for him.

But, what really was the absolute, top-notch tear-jerker was later that night when Steve returned home from his shift, Alena shouted to you from the living room, “Mommy! Daddy’s home!”

And to see the look on Steve’s face, the one that was of pure shock, made the tears fall all over again. You weren’t just looking after Steve’s daughter anymore, you were her mom, and that was the greatest gift you could’ve ever been given.

i hope you enjoyed!! feel free to keep sending in asks for this series!! also, any general cute comments from my pretty af followers and readers is appreciated too!! ♡

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[omnomnomdomcaps]

Louder than Words

Yet another remastered story, everyone! And yes, I'm still here. - ONND

***

Ann stared in vain at the screen in front of her, lingering on the clock in the corner. She had told her boss - the firebrand lawyer that she aspired to be like - that she could have her report done by Monday morning, and yet for the past three hours she had accomplished absolutely nothing. It was as if a fog had set over her, and she knew exactly who to blame.

In one furious motion, the diminutive blonde rose from her seat, stomped through her apartment hallway as loudly as her five-foot frame could, stopped, and pointed, as sharply and as angrily as her finger was capable of pointing.

“YOU!” she bellowed, her face bright red.

“Yes?” Richard, her boyfriend, turned in his swivel, utterly unfazed, resting his hands in his lap as he looked up at his fuming visitor.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” the girl bellowed, “Your stupid fucking hypnosis bullshit has been messing with my head all night, and I’ll remind you that I have a lot of work to do.”

“My… stupid hypnosis?” he repeated softly, raising an eyebrow, “But… I thought that hypnosis didn’t do anything?”

“Oh shut up, smartass,” Ann barked, “it doesn’t. But all your yammering on about figuring out the trigger” - she added air quotes as she mocked - “and how revolutionary you seem to think this bullshit is has been giving me a fucking headache, and now I can’t focus on my goddamn work.”

“My oh my,” the man shook his head in his seat, “such rude words. As I said before, I’m quite proud of this new file, and I’m very appreciative that you would let me test it out on you. I just thought you should know that it’s trigger-based, in case that helps you manage it. After twenty-four hours, I’ll be happy to remove it if you just ask, but I need to collect a few observations first.”

“I don’t need you to remove shit,” she snarled, “It doesn’t do anything, and I wish you’d stop wasting your time on it. Just tell me what the stupid trigger is or whatever, so I can focus on more important things. Christ.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Richard smiled, “Besides, if the file really isn’t doing anything, then it’d seem to me that you just need a simple distraction. So why don’t you take your mind off work a few minutes, hmmm? Relax a little?”

Ann growled, but eventually released her pointing hand and exhaled. She wasn’t one to admit it, but perhaps, she thought, he was right - a simple distraction was what she needed.

The girl left her boyfriend’s office and made her way to the kitchen, where she quickly came upon some lingering plates and cutlery from the night’s dinner. Once more, she took a deep breath, before taking a sponge and turning on the faucet, immersing herself in a simple, productive task to clear the fog in her head.

And within just a few moments, that fog seemed to start to clear. The girl felt calmer and more at ease, and didn’t even show annoyance when a familiar face came in to join her.

“Aww, thank you!” her boyfriend remarked, “You didn’t have to do that. Maybe I can help?”

“I can handle it myself,” she said without turning, “but thanks.”

Indeed, it seemed she was almost done with the work anyway, only one plate left to scrub off and place into the couple’s dishwasher. But then, that plate slipped from her hands.

In a moment of sudden panic, Ann scrambled to regain a grip on the wide dinner plate, her wet fingers grasping madly at the air over the sink. Finally, she was able to regain a hold, but it came at such an awkward angle that she ended up diverting the full pour of the faucet towards her body, blasting her with such force that she had to drop the ceramic into the basin below.

The plate shattered into pieces, and Ann just stood there, trying to make sense of what had just happened, and what had come of it. She was drenched - the burst of water had reached her face, her t-shirt, and the front of her pants. As her boyfriend stepped calmly in front of her, turning off the sink and beginning to collect the shattered remains of the plate, the girl erupted once again in frustration.

“Fucking seriously!?” she yelled out, “Why the fuck did you have to distract me again? I was finally starting to fucking relax and you had to get up behind me and…”

“Whoa there now,” he gestured, as if trying to rein in a horse, “no need for that kind of hostility. I’ll just take care of the little mess here, and I think you should probably focus on getting yourself cleaned up?”

Again the girl growled, balling up fists as she walked away. Part of her wanted to keep arguing, but she knew there would be nothing to gain. Plus, she knew he was right - she needed to get herself cleaned up. Her shirt was sopping wet, and the stain on her pants had soaked her underwear as well.

As she changed herself out into dry clothes in their bedroom, Richard once again came to join, tapping her ajar door before peering in.

“You gonna be alright changing yourself there, babe? Maybe I should get you something a little more absorbent, in case you have another little mishap?”

“Real funny,” she rolled her eyes, “I can keep my pants dry just fine, as long as someone doesn’t keep distracting me. Now could you please leave me alone?”

“Alright, alright,” he acquiesced, and walked away.

Ann, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, took several deep breaths to try to calm herself down, hoping that she might be able to focus enough to get her work done. But as she stared again into the screen, she found herself again veering away from her task. She played games, watched news, checked social media, and did everything except the thing she was supposed to do, until a familiar feeling finally pulled her away from her seat.

“God fucking damn it,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she walked away from her laptop. She wondered why she had been so ineffective - she’d never been one to struggle so much with writer’s block or procrastination before, and she didn’t really care about the stupid hypnosis trigger, did she?

But then, only a few feet from her chair, Ann felt something strange. The urge that she had, that had started as a simple need for a pee break, seemed to be developing unnaturally, growing stronger and stronger each second. But it had gotten beyond even that.

The girl looked down, unable to believe what she was seeing. There, at the front of her fresh pair of shorts, spots were appearing. They weren’t some burst of desperation, but small, uncontrolled drop, leaking through underwear, and beginning to drip onto the floor.

“Fuck!” She launched into a sprint for the bathroom, but it was already too late. The drops had turned into a full-blown stream, flowing down across the legs of her shorts and forming puddles on the hardwood below, with her muscles unable to stop anything.

She finally did enter the bathroom, but there wasn’t much left for her to do there. She tossed off her ruined shorts and panties - her second such set of the day - and sat half-naked on the toilet bowl, mulling her situation, cursing until her face turned red.

And then, like clockwork, he showed up, carrying a crinkling package in his hand as he waved to his girlfriend from the bathroom’s entrance.

“What the fuck do you want!?” she balked, “And why do you even have that?”

“Occupational hazard,” he chuckled, “different hypnoses affect people in different ways, and sometimes these h-”

“NO!” she pointed, glaring suddenly, “Don’t say that word - that word that rhymes with ‘yelp.’ That’s your fucking trigger word, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”

Richard smiled and shrugged, and then began to answer. “A good g-”

“No!” she cut him off, “You know what? Don’t fucking say anything. Don’t talk to me tonight. Sleep on the fucking couch. Okay?”

The man standing in the hallway nodded, raising his free hand up to gesture for calm. He said nothing.

“But,” Ann went on, her voice turning timid, “could you leave the package here? Thanks.”

Her boyfriend tossed the package towards her before proceeding to walk away once again. Ann, after a few moments, reached to bring it closer to herself, shuddering as she examined the contents.

Diapers. A small, mostly empty bag of thick, adult diapers. Ann wondered if she really needed them, or if she was simply letting Richard’s riddles get in her head. Either way, she figured, it would be easier to just put one on. Tomorrow afternoon, she reminded herself, she would be done with this insanity, free to go back to her normal life. And she would never agree to let that man hypnotize her again.

With a sigh, the girl took a garment from the bag and unfolded it, trying to make sense of front and back. This will be over soon, she reminded herself, and she stood to wrap the diaper around herself. It was an alien feeling, and she winced as she heard the plastic crinkle. Still, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable, and she was able to ease into the sensation as she walked back towards the bedroom, carrying the remainder of the bag in her fingers.

Richard had gone to sleep on their sofa, as requested, and Ann flopped onto their bed alone, thoughts from the previous day racing through her mind. She was too tired to try to do work any longer, and she reminded herself that it would be a waste of time anyway. Within a day, this would all be over, and that thought calmed her as she drifted off peacefully.

****

Some nine hours later, Ann rubbed her tired head as she tried to adjust to the new day. She wasn’t used to sleeping so long, and she certainly wasn’t used to the new sensation between her legs.

“Oh, Christ…” she mumbled, tossing off her blanket and covers to reveal a sopping diaper underneath.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” Richard waltzed in, a wide smile on his face, “Ready for breakfast?”

“Could you not be so fucking loud?” she whispered, holding the side of her head, “i literally just woke up. Jesus…”

“Oh my,” he said, speaking more softly now, “looks like someone’s had a busy night, huh? I suppose I’ll just leave you to it, then.”

And for a few moments, he did, working away in the kitchen while the girl tried to orient herself. Slowly, Ann was able to untape her worn diaper, wrap it, and toss into their wastebasket, before pulling another from the bag - the last, she quickly realized - and setting it around her hips.

“Need any… assistance there?” Richard chimed in from the kitchen.

“No!” she balked, “I can change myself. I don’t need you using this as an excuse to humiliate me any more.”

“Suit yourself, then.”

This time, however, it seemed the tapes were baffling Ann. Try as she might, she simply couldn’t fix them around her waist, no matter if she was lying down or standing up, no matter how she tried to position her hands.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” he finally asked again, peering into the bedroom door.

“I told you not to… ugh…” the girl scowled, crossing her arms and turning her head. “Fine! Go ahead and fucking change me already. I hope you’re happy, asshole.”

“Always!” he answered cheerily, whistling to himself as he fastened the blushing girl’s diaper.

“Y’know,” he said, just as he was finishing the work, “I think I might have to pick up a few things at the mall today. Would you care to join me?”

“Fine,” the girl replied, her head still turned away, a scowl still covering her face, “whatever.”

Breakfast was a silent affair - flapjacks and scrambled eggs, which the girl ate, to her relief, without incident. All the while, her mind continued to race through her current situation, as she struggled to accept the profound effects the hypnosis seemed to have had on her, and wondered how much further it would go before the day was through.

Soon, the two were in the mall lobby, watching Sunday crowds scuttle about around them. Ann had chosen a light blue sundress to wear - the one clean item she had that wouldn’t leave her with an obvious bulge - but she was still highly self-conscious of what was hidden underneath.

“So what did you want to get here?” the girl asked, nervously maintaining her hands at the hem of her dress.

“Well,” he began, “I did notice that package I gave you was running a bit l-”

“Oh my fucking god,” she cut him off, “You fucking asshole. You just brought me out here to buy diapers, didn’t you? You just want to fucking humiliate me, is that it?”

“Now, now,” Richard answered calmly, “no need to make a fuss. Yes, I may have needed to pick up a few of those, but I’m also happy to go shop for anything you like. My treat - it’s my way of thanking you for -” he paused and grinned, anticipating her grimace at his next word, “helping me with this project.”

Ann’s face turned red as she clenched her teeth. She wanted to scream that this was some trap, but she fought against the urge, not wanting to call attention to herself in this state. Plus, if he was being honest, this could be a chance for her to salvage her situation with a bit of material compensation.

And so, the girl led her boyfriend without a word to an upscale clothing outlet, handing him a basket to carry. For the next hour, she would fill it with anything that caught her eye, smiling gleefully as she snatched up the most extravagant items in the store. And Richard, for his part, said nothing.

That was, until he heard the girl’s stomach emit a familiar rumble.

“Uh oh…” he teased, “looks like someone’s gotta go.”

“It’s fine,” Ann rolled her eyes, “I can wait. I’d rather not deal with a public bathroom right now.” And with that, she went back to picking clothes, as her boyfriend shrugged silently and averted his gaze with a whistle.

It was only a few moments later, though, that a sudden and powerful cramp struck the girl, causing her to nearly drop the dress she was holding. With wide eyes and blush cheeks, the girl looked nervously around before admitting a change of heart.

“Berightback,” she blurted, and she darted off into the mall. And after putting their overflowing basket aside, her boyfriend ran after.

For a moment, Ann stopped and turned. “Don’t follow me!” she yelled, “I don’t need your fucking help, okay? I - I - oh god…”

The second cramp that hit, it seemed, was far more forceful than the first. There, in the mall’s corridor, Ann grunted as she felt her body pushing and pushing, a massive, mushy mess filling the back of her diaper.

She wanted to cry.

“There there, sweetie,” Richard said softly, “it’s okay. Why don���t we just make a quick run to the pharmacy, and then we’ll be off home and get you nice and clean, ‘kay?”

“You…” she grimaced, but she held back. Don’t make a scene here, she told herself, not here.

And so she went along, swallowing her tongue and her pride as he took her by the hand over to the mall’s small drugstore. But against his word, Richard seemed to be taking his sweet time, whistling as he carefully looked through the packages in the diaper aisle, before settling on one he liked.

“Oooh, this is perfect! A nice big package for you. Can you read how many diapies are in here?”

“Fuck off,” the girl whispered through gritted teeth, “I can read fine, asshole.”

“Oh?” the man countered with a condescending smile, “Go on, then.”

Fuming through her nose as she tried to contain her rage, the girl let her eyes drift to the package, finding nothing but incomprehensible symbols on it. Then, those eyes began to dart around the aisle, finding only the same on every other package and sign. And when she realized what it all meant, Ann snapped.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?” she yelled, stomping her foot against the store rug, “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME??”

“Now now, sweetie,” Richard smiled, putting aside the package he was holding, “there’s no need for that kind of language. Don’t forget we’re in a store now.”

“Fuck you,” the girl retorted, her face beet red as she landed another stomp on the floor, “Fuck you fuck you fu-”

In an instant, the girl found herself looking down at the floor, positioned with her full diaper facing up over her boyfriend’s knee.

“Tsk tsk tsk” he shook his head, stern but calm, “How many times did I warn you?”

*SMACK*

“Little girls like you shouldn’t be using such foul language.”

*SMACK*

“And now, this is what you get.”

*SMACK*

“Is that clear?”

Ann nodded behind watering eyes as she was let down onto her feet, her hand reaching to support her sore bottom as she winced at the sticky mess that had been pressed against it.

She would be silent for the rest of their mall trip, hiding her face behind her hands as her boyfriend checked out the new package of diapers, and looking away as they drove home. It was almost over, she told herself, remembering that there were only a few hours left before the day was up. This nightmare is almost over.

That only made it more shocking, however, when he led her back into their apartment to reveal what was once his office, redone completely into a full, adult-sized nursery, complete with a giant crib, soft pink-colored walls with infantile decorations, and a changing mat, onto which she found herself being placed.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he smiled, “I did a little redecorating while you were asleep last night. Thought you mind need this.”

“What the fuck,” the girl seethed, preparing to burst once more, “You fucking psycho…”

“Now, now,” he chided, “what did we say about naughty words?”

“I can say whatever the fuck I want!”

“Can you, now?”

The girl was ready to go off once more, but she was interrupted by a strange feeling. Her tongue, it seemed, was lost in her mouth, and all of the sounds she wanted to make seemed impossible.

“Ga…” she mustered, “ba… da…” but she simply couldn’t formulate a word.

“Oh, too bad,” Richard commented, unable to fully hide his chuckle at the girl’s state, “Seems like someone’s lost her train of thought. And it’s such a shame, because I’m sure you really wanted to ask for me to undo this hypnosis.

“But that’s not going to happen now, because you went and said those words again - I can. So sad, really - you could have probably figured it out when you were still smart enough, but instead you went and insulted me and my work, thinking you were so much better than all of it.

“I guess it can’t be helped. I guess that’s just the girl you are - or at least, the one you were. Thinking you were better than everyone else, thinking you could do anything. And that’s exactly why I had to teach you this lesson.”

Ann lay in wide-eyed shock as she soaked in the revelation. Her mind raced as she tried to find a way out, a way to escape being this oversized baby, unable to speak a word, being changed out of a full, wet, messy diaper before being put down into her crib for a nap.

But she couldn’t.

#ab/dl community #ab/dl

[wordsinhaled]

N, your last drabble!!! Dream falling in love with Hob’s domesticity, with the humanity he brings out in him!! Craving these brief moments between them where everything’s soft and mushy and quiet and crispy warm. Dream slowly noticing how lovingly Hob looks up at him. Dream drowning in his presence, drowning in Hob. Falling in love in the tranquility of one another.

I WILL cry…

I KNOW... i am already crying, cocoa, FOR REAL

have some domestic flirting <3333

-

It must be, Morpheus thinks, a particular quality of the light that streams in through Hob’s kitchen window, that it catches in his hair and brings out the little amber flecks in each strand just so. This is something Morpheus has never before had the opportunity to notice. The sources of illumination in the White Horse Tavern were too low to ever lend Hob such radiance, and those in the New Inn too electric. It must be a peculiar quality of Hob Gadling’s, that he is best suited to being lit up by the sun. The way it softens his edges and sets his skin to glowing nearly makes Morpheus envious of how unreservedly it bestows Hob with its favor. Hob is washing up the breakfast dishes in the sink—an activity so mundane and tedious and small that the Morpheus of six centuries ago would have scoffed at the very idea of finding it engrossing. How much time in their fleeting eyeblink of a life, thinks that vestige of Morpheus idly, do people spend simply soaping and rinsing and drying dishes? Yet today he sits at Hob’s little kitchen table and feels abjectly fascinated by every detail of the act. Hob Gadling, he supposes, has more time than most to spare for such follies. Hob does not own a dishwasher. The sleeves of his buttondown are pushed up to his elbows, and his arms are shiny-wet up to mid-forearm, and his hands disappear into a mountain of white suds as he scrubs at the inside of a frying pan with a green wiry sponge. The room smells bright and clean, the lemon zest scent of the dish liquid catching and holding Morpheus’ attention as much as the roll of Hob’s shoulders does when he turns to place the rinsed pan aside to drip dry. Morpheus remembers too late that humankind tends to dislike the sensation of being observed. But Hob only slants a crooked smile at him when he notes that he is watched; only says, “See something you like?” Instantly Hob’s eyes widen the barest fraction, and squeeze shut, and Morpheus spies the shadow that passes in the next moment over his face. It is the same sort of shadow, the same drawing inwards, that he has noted sometimes comes over Lucienne when she thinks she may have said something that will surely be ill-received. Morpheus cannot fathom what has troubled Hob now. He considers Hob’s question with care. What is before him? There is the ease with which Hob grins at him. The glinting sunshine that follows the soft fall of his hair out of the haphazard bun. The dark patches of denim where Hob has just wiped his dripping palms on his thighs. “Yes.” Morpheus answers simply, and knows it to be the truth. “I see... much that pleases me.” “Oh,” Hob says, his smile widening to show a flash of teeth. “Alright, then.” There is surprise in his voice, and pleasure, and... something else Morpheus does not decipher. He has not read the daydreams of Hob Gadling in many hundreds of years. He will not begin now. But a flush blooms across Hob’s cheeks then to accompany his words, the staining red of poppies, and Morpheus finds he enjoys this as well.

#the sandman #dreamling #hotcocoabuns #dreamling domestic vacation

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 17

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,512

Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.

Chapter 17

August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.

Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.

Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.

Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 

“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 

“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.

“Bath.”

 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 

“Bath,” firmer.

“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.

“No Sy, a real bath.”

He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”

“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just

.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 

Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 

Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 

“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.

She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”

“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”

“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”

“Talk to me darlin’, please.”

“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.

“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”

Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”

“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.

“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”

She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”

“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”

“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.

Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 

She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”

“So good!” 

They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.

“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”

“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”

She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will, sugar.” 

Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.

He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.

Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.

“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”

All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.

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