#GOD IM SO LATE TO THIS PARTY BUT WELL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilystyles · 10 days

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part three of style, written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG??? UR SUPPORT HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE U ALL SM ALL UR ASKS R SO SWEET. LOVE U LOVE LOVE U. IM SORRYYYYYY UNI SUCKS RN!!! ENJOY ANGELS <3333333

brief description niall throws the party of the century, and harry gives y/n a gift.

warnings! slight age gap, smutty (daddy kink, romantic sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, steamy, dry humping) sexual tension, drugs and alcohol abuse, fratboys. (wordcount: 11k)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

Harry Styles, for what felt like the first time ever, was jealous.

It had now become obvious to Harry, that he is definitely a jealous person when he loves someone.

Which had never happened to him until her, he’d never cared enough to be jealous. He couldn’t care less normally, and he never really understood feeling possessive. It used to turn him off so much when someone was possessive over him, he hated the idea of being tied down and suffocated. His ex-girlfriends could and did cheat him and Harry didn’t care, he was young and wanted to have fun. He didn’t blame others for enjoying themselves. He moved on without the bat of an eye, and he never held grudges over it.

Life was about feeling good, having fun, and enjoying yourself. And before Y/n that meant mindless sex, parties, and smoking in pretty girls’ beds. He knew for a lot good girls that his past would be a major turn off, he honestly didn’t remember half the people he’d shagged, but he didn’t care. Life was a bunch of fleeting moments for him.

But lately, his feelings about possessiveness were different. His feelings for Y/n were all-consuming and so strong he didn’t know what to do with himself, he felt like his world was flipped upside down. He didn’t know how to ground himself, he felt like he was floating, and so far from his feet. When it came to Y/n he cared. A lot. Too much.

He found that even the way people were looking, just looking, at her right now was enough to have him clenching the can of beer in his hand. His fist tightly squeezed around it, imagining it was the jugular of whoever was walking in her direction that wasn’t him. And despite the fact he could understand people hitting on her because seriously she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, that didn’t matter to him. Y/n owned every inch of him, and he felt like he’d made it clear she was belonged ot him too.

Harry found himself watching her intensely from across the room, eyes locked directly on her pretty little perfect figure. Which was unlike him normally he was off causing mischief and getting incredibly out of his mind drunk and high. Probably get a blowie outside by the pool.

But she was so striking, and he felt like he was in a trance. She stood out from the swarm of people like the brightest star in the sky, her h/c shined under the lights catching his attention immediately when he walked into the room. Y/n just looked so fucking gorgeous, like the embodiment of beauty, and everything Harry loved was embedded in her very being. He couldn’t have ripped his eyes away even if he’d wanted to.

If he had to describe her in one word right now, he’d say entrancing. She looked…well it took his breath away how beautiful she was. Harry always found Y/n very beautiful but tonight she looked especially scintillating. He wasn’t sure if it was her outfit or the fact his infatuation was growing by the second each day, but wow.

He wanted her so badly.

Her face was flushed from alcohol and the heat of the room, a soft pink that was similar to the shade of her lips, and a glisten of sweat coated her from the sweltering evening, making her look like an ethereal being that Harry adored. God, she was adorable. He could see her giggling, nose scrunching and all smiley. He couldn’t hear her, but he wished he could. She had the cutest laugh known to man.

And there it was, that itchy jealousy and annoying possessiveness rolling through his veins as he watched her laugh with another boy.

His green piercing eyes fell further down her figure. Her costume was fitting. The little dress she wore was very short, so short that the bottom of her plush ass was almost peeking out of it and Harry’s thoughts turned from wholesome to not-so. He’d never seen her wear that dress before, but if he had anything to do with it she wouldn’t even be wearing one and she’d been in his bed with the flimsy material on the floor. The material of her dress was almost a second skin, the silky white material left very little to the imagination except for where it puffed out at the bottom like a tutu. Her tits were round, the perfectful mouth for him to suckle on, nipples hard and obvious pressing against the satin material.

However, her luscious legs and smooth skin were the stars of the show tonight, Harry had been lucky enough to feel those wrapped around him, so he knew how soft they were. In that dress, her legs looked so long, the sight of her made his blood rush through him faster, almost like he was high. He’d only had one beer, so he didn’t know what had made him so dazed.

Harry wouldn’t be surprised if his prick was hard in his pants, he didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed. It got like that when he smelt her perfume on his clothes after being with her all day. Y/n had an unfathomable power and control over him, that she hadn’t even known she possessed. It didn’t take make much to get him budged up like that anymore, if Y/n crossed his mind then boom, just like that his prick was begging for his fist.

Harry kept watching her protectively. A few guys were leering close by, and he didn’t like it one bit. Instead of looking at the boys, he turned his attention back to the details of her dress. The top of it had puffy short sleeves that made her look adorable, and the neckline showed her perfect tits sitting comfortably and plump. That little necklace of her initial sitting between them, it sparkled under the dim light.

He bit his lip, and the beer in his hands was no longer enough to distract him. He licked his lips and calculated how he’d get her alone with him tonight. For once, Emma was sticking to her like glue. His sister normally found a way to disappear off and get herself sickly drunk, and with some lad. They had that in common, neither ever one to mingle unless it was for a shag or a spliff.

But not right now, no Emma stayed close by her side, talking to Zayn and a guy Harry thinks is called Liam. Harry’s jaw clicked, teeth clenching as he watched Liam’s eyes linger a moment too long at Y/n’s chest. His fist clenched by his side as he tried to breathe.

Shutting his eyes only for one second to remind himself to get his lungs working.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

As he repeated those two words in his mind, the only thing he could that he wanted to go in and out was his prick inside of her perfect sweet pussy. He wanted her pressed nice and close to him, he wanted to hold her, and press his cheek to her head and shut his eyes. Maybe then he’d be able to breathe normally. He certainly couldn’t from over here, and now as stood across the room he realised maybe all those girls sobbing hysterically with ice cream in their dorms over his frat brothers weren’t so crazy, and maybe those idiots who ran through airports weren’t really idiots. Just people madly, stupidly, overboard, in love.

This absolute possessive carnal caveman rage was something Harry hated because he knew it was stupid. But God the thought of anyone even looking at what was his pissed him off beyond the point of sanity. Y/n was a fucking beautiful little thing, she always had been, all innocent and soft, the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up into your arms and take care of.

And he wanted to do just that. He wanted to take care of her and keep all harm from her direction. He didn’t care if he was getting obsessive with his staring, he couldn’t stop.

He smiled at the little furry feathered halo that sat on her head, wings decorating the soft exposed skin on her back, and glittery cheeks that sparkled like magic under the pale blue lights of the room. She looked ethereal. His real-life angel and she was dressed the part too. Little fluffy white heels decorated her feet that he was sure would look better by his shoulders as he made her melt around him like he had every intention of doing.

He really was the devil for thinking that way. But that’s who he was, and her unforgettable sweet pussy had infiltrated his mind. He smirked silently to himself because he knew despite their total differences and things that got in the way of them, the world had made them for each other.

Moulding his hand to fit perfectly around hers. Like a sculpture with his clay, the world carved Harry just for her, and Y/n just for him. He was more sure of it than anything in the world.

Even if she didn’t know that yet, he was more than certain.

So Liam could just right fuck right off, that was his angel. Anyway, who comes as a basketball player when you already are one? How lame is that costume? Harry hadn’t worn his football clothes here and called it a costume. Even he wasn’t that bad.

Harry hadn’t tried as hard as Y/n had with his get-up. The only thing to give away his costume was the cheap plastic red horned headband hidden in his curls. He was in a pair of black jeans, and a black t-shirt, nothing special. He didn’t fancy costumes all that much. But he thought that Lucifer likely didn’t give a fuck about his outfit, at least that’s what he’d told Niall when the bloke almost didn’t let him inside due to his very shitty costume.

Y/n hadn’t noticed Harry yet, despite his icy green eyes boring into her skin for the past twenty or so minutes. He’d been lurking in a corner away from her sight. But when Emma left with Zayn to who knows or who cares where, he made his way over quicker than a blink of an eye. Liam noticed him first, and Y/n felt a warmth radiating near her back which made her spine shudder.

Must be Styles. She thought but didn’t turn, waiting for him to speak first.

“Oh hey, Mate.” Said Liam offering a wave. Liam and her had a physics class together and she was complaining to him about the professor and how she was pretty certain she was going to fail the class.

Harry’s chest pressed into her side and she finally turned, smiling up at him. A soft delicate one that made Harry’s lungs finally kick back into working like normal. Heart beating fast, as he thought to himself, oh there you are heart.

Being with Y/n was like realising he’d spent his whole life without oxygen but now he had air.

“Hi.” He said curtly to Liam, moving his eyes to Y/n’s precious ones, and he could feel Liam watching them. She really had no idea how badly every man in this room wanted her. How didn’t she notice the staring? The whispers? How did she seem so calm when she was like a baby lamb in a room full of wolves?

“Can you come and help me with something please, Trouble? Niall asked after us.” He asked leaning down close so his mouth shadowed her ear. He was lying, but he wanted her alone, and Emma wouldn’t notice. She was already incredibly drunk and he knew that because she was already dancing on a table in the dining room.

Y/n nodded squeaking out a soft sure, and she slid her palm around his bicep, thoughtlessly and instinctively. When they went off campus, and spent time together they always held each other close.

His body was so warm and welcoming, she was used to being close to him now. He brought her so much comfort, and Harry felt smug at the way Liam’s face dropped at the sight.

Yeah, suck it, stupid basketball player. He thought. Butterflies fluttering through his tummy at the feel of her hand on his arm.

Y/n hardly had a chance to wave goodbye to Liam before Harry had dragged her away hands melting into her skin. Everything with him felt so natural. Their physicalness was normal now, and she hardly noticed it as much as that first night. It felt routine and safe, and she loved it. He never did that with anyone except her, which made her heart flutter in a strange off-beat rhythm.

Despite having always been a sexual creature, he wasn’t touchy with people he slept with outside the bedroom. He wasn’t the type. But he honestly couldn’t keep his hands off Y/n.

He guided her upstairs leading her into a random room, and shutting the door behind them. It was a fairly clean room, and Y/n soon recognised it was Niall’s. She guessed by the rainbow flag hung up by his posters, and of course, the biggest sign was an Ariana Grande poster. He fancied the pants off her, and would always play her songs in the car. If they went to karaoke which sometimes they did, Niall always without a shadow of a doubt sang Ariana. Despite the fact his throat could not at all easily sing that high-pitched.

She walked over to sit on the edge of the bed, her dress riding up ever so slightly at the movement. Niall had these pale dusty blue sheets and they smelt like citrus and wood on the bed. She never came into his room, or even to the frat house because, well, it’s a frat house.

Harry walked over to her towering over her, cutting her thoughts of their best friend from her mind. His hand moved to touch her cheek, the curve of her skin was searing hot and Harry could feel her melt into his hand.

“Hi, Styles,” She whispered shyly, lips moving as slow as molasses dripping off a spoon. He knew for a fact she tasted just as sweet too.

He smirked down at her, God he wanted to just eat her right up. She was looking up at him all doe-eyed, her little hand creeping underneath his shirt. She was so cute, so fucking adorable. He could feel the gentle caress of her nails against his hip and he felt his skin pimple in goosebumps.

“Hi, Baby.” He replied, moving to sit down beside her. His large, muscled, thigh pressed into hers emitting a warmth she welcomed. Her hands fell into her lap now as she watched him through hooded eyes.

She blushed some more, “What does Niall need our help with in here?”

Harry laughed and it bellowed out, as he placed a soft hand on her knee. Her skin was soft like butter, and he rubbed her knee tenderly. She was perfect, in every sense of the bloody word.

“Nothing, I just wanted you to myself, Trouble.”

She giggled, and it made Harry’s chest swell. He loved her. He loved her so much.

“Oh I see,” She said, her hand landing on his. He slowly dragged his hand further up her leg and couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the life of him.

“You look fucking beautiful, by the way,” He whispered, squeezing her thigh.

She smiled brightly, and she leaned over to smear a quick kiss on his jaw. “Aw, thanks Styles, I went all out because I knew Niall would have my ass if I didn’t dress ‘properly’.”

Harry laughed, tipping his head back. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying you like this. You look…Jesus Y/n, I mean, are you trying to kill me? You really are trouble, aren’t you gorgeous girl?”

She pouted at him leaning in closer, he could smell her perfume and shampoo so heavily now and he was intoxicated by it. Y/n smelt so good, and the scent of her grounded him. He wanted to keep her right here all night, and maybe he would if he was lucky. Y/n didn’t seem to be in a rush to leave their little bubble.

And she knew Emma was very distracted with Zayn, they were still going out. But honestly, Y/n didn’t suspect they’d last much longer, she could already sense her best friend’s restlessness. It wasn’t anything that Y/n judged, but Emma never stayed with a boy longer than a month. She used to think it was a Styles thing, but Harry hadn’t been with anyone else in months, not since that night they shared.

“Am not.” She said, faking petulance. He leaned down close enough that his lips just grazed hers, and she wanted so badly to join their lips. But she didn’t know if that was what he wanted, so she just waited.

“You so are.” He replied.

She leaned into his neck with a sigh, he smelt like always; mint, tobacco, vanilla, and something undeniably Harry. He was intoxicating and the drink she’d had made her blood rush with a want that thumped so intensely. She wanted Harry, so badly, and her control was wilting away with each second that passed.

The devil had a magic spell on the angel.

“Can I kiss you, Trouble?” He asked softly, pushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. He noticed a pair of dangly pearl earrings and untangled the hair from them.

Y/n was amazed by how soft and gentle he was with her. She’d imagined him to be a lot cooler, icy, and most of the time he played the part brilliantly. Before that night in the kitchen, all Harry had been was a cold-hearted frat boy who she thought was sexy. Because that’s all he pretended to be around her before this.

She hadn’t known hiding underneath the cool exterior was a warmth more scorching than the sun.

She giggled at him, eyes shutting for a second, before open to see him smiling back at her. “Do you even have to ask that? Isn’t it obvious I’m dying to kiss you, Styles?”

He rolled his eyes, smirk growing even bigger. “C’mere.”

She shifted closer swinging both her legs over his lap and scooting so close their chests pressed together. She felt her heart speed up at the thought of their lips becoming one. Harry was the one to lean down and connect their lips together in a soft gentle greeting. She tasted like rum and peaches, and he sighed at the taste. He’d wanted to do that all night, and he was relieved to have finally fulfilled his wish. Her soft hands had found their way onto his cheeks, and his hand landed on her waist to keep her nice and snug against him.

It wasn’t long until the little breathy sounds she was making had him needy for her, his tummy curled in desire. And in a hurry of want, he pulled her onto his lap properly and she squealed quietly. Laughing against her lips, he smiled. Pulling away to whisper, “I missed you, so much.”

She rolled her eyes. “You saw me like an hour ago.”

She saw him before they arrived. Having got ready at Emma’s, he’d seen her before she was dressed and left for the party. He snuck a quick peck on her lips while Emma was in the shower before he left. The sneaking around was getting more bold, and Y/n knew she should tell Emma soon but she just didn’t know how.

Plus what were they? She could hardly say ‘Hey Em been shagging your brother for a bit.’

Harry shrugged at her words. “I don’t care, I miss you the second you’re gone.”

Her lips landed on his cheek, leaving a kiss print of pink and she giggled, thumb coming up to wipe it off.

“Oops.” She giggled.

“What, you didn’t miss me, Baby?” He whispered, tone all sultry, it made her stomach curl viciously. He seriously would be the death of her. She should’ve known from the minute she met him it would be.

“Obviously. Now kiss me like you mean all that sap,” She ordered him, and there was no need to tell him twice. He kissed her again, tongue sliding into her mouth to swirl against hers. His lips moulded perfectly into hers as his hands slid up under her dress gliding over the soft skin of her bum. The tiniest underwear she owned covered her and he felt the lace under his palm, which pulled a groan from out of him as Y/n shifted herself against his hips unconsciously. She moaned softly at the feeling of his stiff cock digging into her knickers, one of her hands balling his shirt up in her hand.

He squeezed her ass tightly and pulled back for a breath to leave kisses along her jaw and neck. Nipping at the skin below her ear, he whispered to her softly. “Such a good girl, Y/n.”

She sighed at the feeling, eyes fluttering closed and mouth open slightly. She couldn’t help it, Harry was just so warm, so inviting, that she felt herself melting against his firm chest. She’d been so needy without him, and the pep talk she’d given herself before tonight had gone out the window as soon as she’d seen him.

They hadn’t been together in so long, and she’d gotten herself off this morning but it wasn’t the same without Harry there. She’d been wishing it was him the whole time.

“You’re mouth is criminal, Styles. Could get me to do anything.” She admitted softly finger running along his bottom lip. It was all pink and wet from her mouth, and she briefly remembered the feeling of him sucking on her clit, fighting the urge to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head at the memory.

He looked up quickly, meeting her eyes.

“Anything?” He asked mischievously.

She shrugged leaning down to plant a quick kiss against his swollen lips, “Probably.”

He laughed at that and trapped her into another kiss. They were growing more heated and passionate, her hips grazing against him ever so slightly, as gentle moans left her mouth. Harry swallowed each sound and let her use him for friction, the dull ache in his balls subsided a little less when she did it. He honestly thought he could cum his pants from it if she just went a little bit harder, for a little bit longer.

His hands gripped her a bit harder and pushed her more firmly against him, and the feel of her warmth against him grew stronger. He guessed that by now she was probably wet, and the thought made his cock twitch. Her pussy filled his daydreams, and his mouth salivated at the thought.

She whined into his mouth and whispered a swear against him. His large hand rubbed a circle on her bum, and he decided that this must be heaven. A pretty angel with Y/n’s form was here with him, and sitting right up against his stiffy. That was his idea of heaven.

His hands hidden under the dress, smooth skin under his palms, his hand could barely feel any fabric he knew just how tiny the sorry excuse of knickers she was wearing was, and this only riled him up more. She was so fucking hot. Sexiest little thing.

As she began to grow more needy for a release the feel of his rough jeans combined with the thin lace knickers she was wearing rubbing against her clit, she thought she could cum from this. The prickling heat had started to spark up her spine and she moaned at the bulge of his cock pressing into her. He began to kiss down her neck again and along her chest, and she felt her pleasure growing in her tummy.

Suddenly feeling close, she pushed his shoulders down so that he was lying on his back, and he smirked at the way she grew more needy for it. He loved seeing her use him to get herself off, he didn’t mind letting her be in charge every once in a while. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as she moved her hips in long but hard motions. All rough, and desperate, and Harry loved to see her so riled up. God, she was so perfect. They hadn’t properly seen each other since that night after her terrible date with Peter, and he was growing tired of fisting his cock in the shower. It didn’t compare to the real deal.

Not to mention he just missed talking to her and being with her, and even if the only thing to happen tonight was for her to get off on his leg while he kissed her pretty little mouth, he’d be completely happy with that.

With Y/n he would do just about anything because, well, it was with her.

Eventually, she whispered a soft, “I’m close,” in his ear.

Harry shifted his hips to move with hers “Cum for me angel,” He whispered into her ear. And just as she was about to cum the door swung up and her movements halted. Harry was about to shout a quick ‘fuck off’ because it was probably a drunk person looking for the loo, but the voice that met their ears wasn’t a stranger.

Oh shit.

“Y/n? Is that a- is that a Harry under you?” Asked the drunken voice of Niall. His voice was slightly slurring, and the gasp he’d let out made them know for sure who it was.

He could see the familiar tattooed arms wrapped around her which made him immediately know it was Harry and underneath the fluffy material of her dress he saw a flash of pink knickers and that mermaid tattoo Niall actually went with him when he got done, caught his attention, as he let out a loud yelp.

Honestly, he’d never date either of them. But the bisexual side of him was slightly aroused. They were hot, and together? God. Just delicious.

Y/n winced and shut her eyes, sitting up, “Uh…no??”

Harry laughed at her attempt to lie and she hit his chest. “Shh! Shut up, Styles!”

Niall shut the door walking inside further, uncaring of the position they were in, and the fact he could see Harry’s stiffy pressing up into Y/n’s thigh.

“What the fuck?” He said, and they could hear the betrayal in his tone. Normally Harry told him everyone he slept with and always stayed in the loop, even if it was a simple statement like he hooked up with blah at blah he always told him. And Y/n told him everything too, mostly, or at least he thought she did.

Y/n sat up sliding off Harry who sat up, stiff cock still standing tall, and his balls aching. Sitting beside him, Y/n hung her head, like a child ready for scolding.

“We wanted to tell you, mate,” He started, lifting his hands up to run through his hair and chucking the plastic red horns onto the bed, as he shifted on the bed.

Niall placed a hand to his chest mouth parted open like a fish. His long sheet turned toga covering very little of his muscled chest as he squeezed the flesh there.

“I’m like so betrayed bitches, why didn’t you tell me? Did this just happen? Is this new? What on earth is going on?”

Y/n laughed at his bombard of questions, he obviously wasn’t too cross with them which relieved the tightness in her chest.

She didn’t look at Harry when she spoke, instead playing with her fingers in her lap and fidgeting, “We haven’t told anyone…it’s well, I’m not sure exactly what is, Ni.”

Harry looked up at her statement and rolled his eyes. “I am, I fancy the fuck out of you, Trouble. We just haven’t told anyone because Emma would lose it. Remember when I got with Y/n’s old roommate that redhead I forget her name, and Emma shunned her from the group?”

Niall nodded, mulling things over. “Right, yeah. She wasn’t happy about that. Which is sad, I liked that girl, great tits.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and wanted to laugh, clearly, they didn’t like her that much if they couldn’t remember her name.

Y/n stood up. “Ni, I know you’re in shock and offended we didn’t tell you. Which is so fair, but Em doesn’t know yet, and she will kill me. Seriously murder me, especially if she finds out from someone who isn’t me. So you can’t tell a soul.”

He looked down at her and nodded. “Of course, I won’t tell anyone, just Benny.”

Benny was his cat, a fat ginger tabby, who was an old thing that Y/n found hiding behind his car one afternoon. Turns out he was abandoned, back then he’d been a thin little thing, but now Niall fed him up probably too much.

Y/n hugged him, and Niall’s hands slid down to her waist. “Thank you, mate,”

He just nodded, and let out a breath.

“Okay, I’m gonna grab some spliff from in here,” He rustled around, “then you can get back to it. Just don’t spunk all over my bed kids, and if you need a cum rag still one from next door, Jimbo keeps stealing my spliff so,” He said walking over to his shelf and grabbing a tin box full of weed, and his monkey bong from beside his telly.

He shut the door with a hushed bye, and then Y/n finally looked at Harry to see he was already staring up at her from his seat on the edge of the bed. Still standing up, anxiety fluttering her tummy.

“So you fancy me, huh?” She said teasingly with a smile, her lipstick was smudged and he could taste her peach-flavoured lipgloss on his lips still, he licked them in thought.

They hadn’t really discussed much about their relationship. But she was fairly certain he liked her. And she could tell he got jealous, that was obvious. But the sudden change from being the brooding older brother of her best friend, who constantly treated her like a ghost, and teased her about her behaviour to this. This intense, honest, and obsessed boy. It was like whiplash.

All those years? What had changed him in these few weeks?

She would probably always fancy him even if nothing ever comes from this, a piece of her will always belong to him, does he know that? She always felt like she was more transparent than he was.

But right now, just his eyes were a giveaway of his feelings.

The normally stoic, and cold, gaze was suddenly soft and molten. Even though only a few minutes before they’d been seconds away from getting off and kissing, now it was a soft cosy little bubble.

She was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory. When she was a kid and she’d go to her grandparent’s house she’d find herself sitting in their attic, which they’d turned a library nook which had a big window seat that caused the carpet to get all sun-soaked around noon and she’d flick through dozens of photo albums of her grandparents. The couple had grown up together as neighbours, and been in love since they were five years old.

Her grandparents were still so in love to this day, and her grandma always said you can tell by someone’s eyes if their feelings are true. Y/n’s grandfather’s eyes never turned hard around his wife, and Y/n always took notice. The strong, tall, soldier, was an absoloute sap for her.

Y/n had always hoped one day, she would find a love timeless and comfortable like theirs. Which is probably why she’d never gotten into many casual things, and was against that, she just always hoped one day Harry’s eyes would be like that but now that it was happening she almost couldn’t believe it.

Can people lie with their eyes like they can with their mouth? Can Harry?

He nodded. “Isn’t that very obvious, gorgeous?”

She sat down next to him, and she could feel the steamy moment blossoming into something more intimate and soft. She shrugged and looked down at the hands on his lap, and said nervously, “I don’t know,”

He pouted and slid his hand onto her knee. “We can’t have that,”

She looked up at him, her confidence melting away. She felt fourteen all over again, watching Harry pine over other girls and crying when she got home that he didn’t fancy her. Trying to dress more maturely and act like the girls he’d fancied the next day only to go unnoticed. Praying the red bikini she bought that was pretty skimpy for fifteen would catch his gaze when they had a pool party, only for him to makeout with some girl in front of her.

She could admit her crush on him was embarrassing to look back on, but when she got older a few years down the track she’d grown to accept it wasn’t supposed to be and decided she wouldn’t try to change to be perfect for him. Because in reality that isn’t what Harry went for anyway.

She couldn’t help but feel fourteen and insecure again. Why did he all of a sudden feel into her?

“Well, y’cant blame me. You hook up with a lot of girls H, and that’s okay, but you know I’m not very experienced. I just- I like you. I always have. But what makes what we are doing different from Jenny, the redheaded roommate from first year.” She said, and his eyes pinched with a prickle of sadness.

He had no idea Y/n still felt this way, after the past few weeks he was certain she’d always secretly known how much he liked her. He thought his affection for her was so bloody obvious but clearly she’d never picked up on that.

He sighed, “I used to get with a lot of people, Trouble. Used to, I don’t want too anymore. Not after the night we shared.” He started, licking his lips and leaning closer. “And you are different from everyone I’ve ever slept with because I actually want more than that…I love having sex with you, Princess, but I also love talking to you, I love being with you, and you are the most lovely person I have ever met.”

Y/n felt the air disappear from her lungs. “You’re special, and I wish I would’ve done something about it sooner instead of wasting our time.”

She smiled, one that hurt her cheeks. She felt them grow rosy as he continued talking.

“And fuck, you drive me crazy. But I miss you the minute you leave, and you are the only person I have ever wanted. Even when were kids. I don’t know how you never noticed, Y/n, but it’s probably because I’m such a tit sometimes. I never made things easy on you, and I’m sorry.”

The validation and shock were overwhelming to Y/n.

Her heart practically stopped.

He’d liked her too?

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

Her heart skipped a few beats in her chest, and she felt herself trying to process his confession.

He’d liked her too? All this time he’d liked her too? What the fuck.

“I may have always been a total dick, but I’ve always fancied you. Ever since I could remember. If Emma wasn’t an issue I would already have told everyone that I fancy the fuck out of you, including you.” He said, lifting a finger to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, “I would’ve tried to get with you years ago, but the idea of not having you at all was what stopped me.”

He paused, swallowing as he watched her stay silent, and listen. “If I could change the way we started this I would’ve done it properly. Asked you out somewhere nice, worn my best, all of it. But I didn’t expect for us to happen.”

He sighed, “And I didn’t want to have to make you choose between me or her, like I know Em will probably make you, and I’ve been selfish letting myself have you these past few months. But fuck, I just have no control when it comes to you,”

Y/n blinked slowly. Because holy fuck. He liked her back, he always had, and he would’ve been with her sooner if not for the obstacle of her best friend. She couldn’t believe it. She really was sure she must be dreaming and had to stop herself from pinching her skin.

Her lips curved in a smirk, and she put her hand on his hand that was resting on her knee and said. “So, what exactly does that make us, Styles?”

He smiled and for what felt like the first Y/n thought Harry looked nervous. He lifted his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, cheeks dusted in a rosy hue as he tried to get the words out.

“If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

She giggled and he felt nervous while he waited for her response.

“Mine?” She asked, liking the way it rolled off her tongue, her long lashes fluttering as she looked up at him.

He nodded once again, and she leaned close nose brushing his, and kissed him. As a soft ‘okay’ slipped past her lips he wrapped his arms around her back and smiled pulling apart from her lips for just a moment.

Excitement rushed through him, as his heart raced. She was looking right back at him, and he felt blissfully happy.

“Okay?!” He asked, unable to hide his relief and surprise.

She laughed tossing her head back, “Yes, Styles.”

He pulled her into a tight hug and she couldn’t stop smiling against his chest, he smelled so good. When he pulled her back at arm’s length once more he looked at her, eyes scanning the plane of her beautiful face. The dim lighting didn’t offer much but he already had every detail of her face memorised.

“Y’do know this makes you my girlfriend, right?” He said, once again checking she knew what she’d just agreed to.

She nodded laughing, and sliding her hands up under his shirt by his hips. “Yes, I’m aware, boyfriend.”

This made him kiss her again and her hands moved to his back as he rolled them over, his chest pressing into her as she melted into the plush bed. He kissed her desperately, leaving them both no chance to breathe. As her legs split open for him to rest on top of her, she felt something hard press into her. Not his prick, no it was in his pocket, how come she hadn’t noticed before when she was sitting on him?

She touched it with her hand, and Harry took notice, pulling back gently as his ragged breath fanned her flushed face.

“Sorry, Trouble.” He whispered breathily, as he dug around in his pocket, sitting up on his knees as Y/n leaned back on her arms watching him.

In his hand was a little black box, it was velvet and she wondered what on earth he had in there. She frowned, eyebrows pinching confusedly, as she watched him hesitate to open it or explain.

Rather than speaking, he opened the box finding inside a sparkling gold necklace. It glittered under the fairy lights Niall had on his headboard. She squinted sitting up straighter, slightly dizzy from it all.

A soft giggle erupted from her lips, and she felt her smile grow wider. Her dainty hand reached out to graze it.

This boy really was full of surprises. “I just- I thought we’d talk tonight so….”

A little golden H on a chain glittered the box, and she felt eagerness bubble in her tummy. Flowing through her veins, as she smirked at him, and bit her lip, “I thought you were joking when you said all those things.”

That night after he’d picked her up from that horrible blind date, and they’d shared a long night together. She thought his jealousy, and possessiveness was laced into his sexual fantasies. Not real jealousy. Because since when was Harry one to care about anything when it came to girls, other than getting his cock wet?

He only smiled, a wicked look coming across his features, God, he really was so bloody devilishly handsome.

“I don’t joke about what belongs to me, Y/n,” His voice drawled softly, and her stomach curled. The way he was looking at her was enough to rile her up all over again.

She moved one of her hands to slide up along his arm, her pink long nails scratching the inked skin softly as she lifted his wrist to her chest and pressed a kiss on his knuckles softly. His breath hitched at the sight of her.

She was so adorable.

Y/n gradually brought his palm to her neck, and his fingers gently slid around her throat and she bit her lip.

“Take this off,” She sighed.

He knew she was referring to her initial around her neck, and his cock twitched. Fuck, for an innocent little angel, she knew his game.

His fingers found the clasp and took the necklace off. It was dainty in his hands and what she did next surprised him. Grabbing the necklace from his palm she sat up a bit more on the bed and slid it around his neck, the chain was still warm from her neck, but he shivered as she touched him anyway.

She clasped it on, and it dangled alongside the cross his mother had given him. It was so dainty, you’d hardly notice it. She liked the idea of her initial constantly hanging there beside the cross. He never took the cross off, not even in the shower. Her finger lined them up perfectly, the cross was slightly longer and she made sure they weren’t tangled.

He leaned down now, almost face to face.

“Now everyone gets t’know what’s mine too, don’t they, Harry?” She whispered and licked her lips at the way the chains dangled down near her forehead.

He smirked down at her, dimples popping. “Yes, Angel, they do.”

She grabbed the necklace from the box and handed it to him. “Put mine on, Styles.”

He obeyed and put the necklace on, the cool chain made goosebumps pimple her skin. It dipped just above the swell of her tits, and he smiled at the sight. His perfect little angel, marked under his name.

“Gorgeous little thing.” He whispered and put the box on the bedside table.

Y/n grabbed his shoulders bringing him back down, he captured her lips against his and they kissed. It was all tongues, teeth, and a mess of noses bumping each other. A feverish kiss, full of a searing heat that had been waiting to burst for a few weeks now.

Y/n’s soft legs wrapped around him, the heels of her shoes digging into his bum as she pressed her heat closer to his once again stiff prick, as he moved his mouth down along her jaw and neck. Slowly spreading his kisses to her chest, and once he got to the H necklace he smirked to himself. He had to be dreaming.

His hands found the zipper of her dress and began to tug the fluffy sleeves down, which revealed her bare chest. Her nipples hardened as his hands grazed them, rough and calloused fingers teasing her nipples, and he moaned, at the feel of her, before latching his lips around one of them.

His filthy, fast, searing hot tongue glided along her. He looked up to see her reaction and the breathless, blushed face made him jut his hips into the bed. God, he wanted her.

“Naughty lil’ thing,” He whispered, looking up at her as he began to leave marks along her chest. Her hands fell to his hair and tugged on the mess of curls, playing with the hair distractedly.

“Tiny knickers, no bra, all for who, Baby?” He tsked her, looking up to see her expressions but her eyes had shut, and she was sighing softly. She looked off in her own world.

“You,” She keened, eyes opening only to find that green already staring right back at her.

He smiled at that and planted another kiss on her lips before moving down the bed, shifting so that he was kneeling on the floor as he tugged up the fluffy skirt hem, and put his face between her thighs. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on her soft skin. She moaned at the feeling of him, and the drink she’d had made her loose-lipped and slightly louder than she normally would be in a bedroom at a party hiding from her best mate.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but they were together now, she could hardly leave this conversation without celebrating.

His nose brushed against her knickers, and her hips jolted up in his face. He smirked against her and his big, strong, ring-covered hands pushed her hips flat on the bed as he looked up at her. “That’s right, Trouble, all f’me. Only f’me. Sucha’ good girl.”

One of his hands moved to her knickers and pushed the thin string aside, revealing her gorgeous dripping pussy. His mouth practically watered at the sight, ever since the night he had a chance to taste her it was something that had overtaken his fantasies when he fisted his cock, he loved being between her legs and it was all he could think about most nights before bed.

When he began kissing her clit, she knew it was going to be hard to pull him away. His tongue darted out along into her hole, and he started licking into her desperately, as her legs fell over his shoulders and she let out a soft cry.

“Mm, fuck, Daddy,” She moaned, and her hands fell into his hair as she began to tug on it in gratitude. Her long nails scratched his scalp, and he moaned against her clit causing her legs to squeeze against his head in pleasure.

One of his hands moved up to her thigh and he pushed it backward, giving him a better view of her. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to her lips and tapped against her bottom lip. She knew he wanted her to suck on them, and did so happily. They muffled her moans as he continued hungrily licking up all the slick dripping out of her needy little pussy.

He could feel her tongue swirling around his fingers and his cock jealously throbbed in his pants. He was happy with how dripping in her saliva his fingers had become and he brought his hand back down to join his tongue. With his middle finger, he slowly started teasing her weeping hole, and she let out a harsh cry.

“Please,” She begged desperately and tugged on his hair.

He pulled back, lips covered in slick all plump and pink. “I know, Princess, I know,”

And just like that his fingers slipped inside her, filling her up so that she felt nice and snug with him. His lips moved to her clit and he began sucking firmly, this caused her spine to spark with the familiar feeling of her orgasm rising. Her tummy was rolling in waves of pleasure, and her clit was throbbing against his warm wet tongue.

“Daddy, fuck,” She cried, and each breath she let out was a whimper. All desperate, as she clawed his arms and hair, so ready for him to be inside her. So ready to cum. So close.

She felt so fucking good. His mouth was like heaven and she felt the high she’d been chasing for weeks close enough that she could almost taste it. The way he was lapping her pussy up like a hungry feral animal. His fingers were long and thick, but nothing compared to his gorgeous prick. They were curling inside her and she could feel him hitting that spongy spot that made her toes curl.

He noticed her thighs begin to shake and the especially loud gasp she let out when he hit that spot. Continuing his merciless and hard pace he was certain she’d be coming undone soon. His tongue sped up, growing more sloppy and hungry for her orgasm to melt onto his tongue. His free hand squeezed the soft flesh of her thigh, as it shook uncontrollably underneath.

The animalistic needy way he was licking into her was almost like a beast and its prey. He’d lost all sense of his surroundings, where he was, and what was happening outside of this room, all his focus was on Y/n. Her sweet, tangy, taste, the sounds of her whimpers which went straight to his throbbing cock, and the feel of her skin under his hands, the slick coating his tongue.

Her.

When Y/n came for him, it wasn’t gentle and quiet like they’d planned. No, her hands clawed at the soft cotton bedsheets as her back arched up uncontrollably. A loud long cry of Harry’s name fell from her swollen lips, as her pussy throbbed and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her body shuddered and his tongue hadn’t stopped until he’d licked up all the slick off her, and she pushed his head back with a shiver.

“Sensitive,” She whispered.

He smiled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful,”

She blushed, and pulled him up closer to her, trapping him in a long loving kiss. She could taste herself on his lips but didn’t have it in herself to care. His hands caressed the curve of her body as she rolled on top of him.

His firm cock was digging into her hip as she kissed him, in no particular hurry at all, and her hand found its way to his jean button. Popping it open and sliding her small, warm, hand into his briefs. She could feel how hard he was and pulled him out. He sprung up against his tummy, and Y/n began to stroke him softly and slowly. The reddened tip of his cock was drooling in beads of precum.

Her lips still smearing against his, as his tummy curled in desire. The sleeves of her dress had fallen down, and she looked all messy from having cum just a few seconds before. She was so beautiful.

As she moved down the bed. Her legs bracketed his and she rested her cheek on his hip bone, lips pouty as she looked up at him. Her hand was still holding the base of him, as smiled. A shadow of him cast over her innocent looking face.

“You have sucha’ pretty cock, Daddy,” She whispered, eyes mesmerised by the sight. And she wasn’t lying, he really did have such a pretty cock. The prettiest.

“All yours, Princess,” He said softly, and despite the fact his hard massive prick was out, the way he spoke was so tender and gentle.

“Can I suck you off?”

He nodded. “Course y’can, Angel, go ahead.”

She rested between his legs with her bum arched up as she leaned down to swallow him in her mouth. Her saliva dripped down along his shaft, as he watched her take him in her mouth. He hardly fit, so she used her hands too, and each time she dared to go deeper her throat gagged around him. Coughing and spluttering, as she attempted to suck him off.

She tried for a few more minutes, unable to get the fast deep pace she wanted. Harry wanted to laugh at her attempts, she was so adorable trying to fit his huge cock inside her little mouth. He didn’t mind watching her pathetic attempts to deep-throat him.

She pulled off for a second, a string of drool connecting them, “Can y’help me make it fit, Daddy?”

He nodded, hand coming to stroke her cheek, “Just tap my thigh if it’s too much, Baby,”

She nodded before moving back down to wrap her lips around a third of him, she could feel his tip hitting her throat already. Her slick spit had dripped all the way down to his balls and her free hand moved to gently massage them.

He moaned. “Fuck, good girl,”

His hips slowly moved up into her mouth, and she choked on him without pulling away, his pace began to become more regular as she let him fuck her mouth.

“Daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

She made a noise his cock, and he just pushed himself deeper, hands moving to hold her hair in a loose ponytail in his fist, “What was that, sweet girl?”

He teased, as she tried to mumble a yes, despite the fact her mouth was stuffed full of him. He laughed sadistically, tossing his head back as he let out a deep rumble of a groan.

His hips speed up desperately as he feels orgasm feels closer. “So fuckin’ good, Y/n, fuck,”

Her hands massaging his balls, and the base of his cock that couldn’t fit, along with her warm, wet, hot, little throat made Harry certain he’d only last a few more minutes. His rhythm grew more sloppy, as he watched Y/n take him. Her eyes were crying with tears from his rough pace, and she was squeezing her thighs together at the noises he was making.

His cock disappearing into her, was enough to have him hissing and whimpering. “Oh, fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum, such a good girl f’me.”

He pushed her head down a few more times, listening to the way her mouth made sloppy noises around him, and he let out a deep guttural moan as he felt his cum start to leak out into her throat. His throat rumbled gravelly moans as his hips lifted up into her throat. Holding her head there to take all of his cum, before finally pulling her off.

She let in some deep ragged breaths, mascara running down her face, and his cum dribbling from her chin. There had been so much of it, that she was almost jealous he hadn’t spilled it inside her. She shut her eyes and let her lungs finally have some air again. She’d gotten dizzy around him.

Her tongue darted out to collect the cum that had split, as she drooped to rest her head against his thigh again. His hands moved to her back and rubbed some soft scratches along her shoulder blades.

“You okay, Trouble?”

She nodded looking up with her glassy eyes, and glossy-coated lips, “Did I do alright, Styles?”

His brows pinched and he shook his head at her question, grabbing her so they were face to face, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, and your mouth, was made for my cock,”

She sat up and pulled him in for a kiss. A soft one, slow, and comfortable. As he rubbed her exposed skin. She was so warm, silky, and supple under his palms. He wished to stay like this always.

He eventually turned her so that she was on her side, one of his legs between her two plump thighs, and they continued to kiss. His kisses travelled to her shoulder and neck as she played with his hair.

She whispered softly in his hair, which smelt like his shampoo, a chestnut-scented one. “I want you, Harry, please,”

And if Harry thought he’d been really needy before, he was sorely mistaken, because seeing his messy-looking girlfriend begging for him to fuck her, had him only thinking of him stuffing her full until she cums for him, over and over and over. His cock had already hardened once more and he rolled on top of her.

“Okay, my love,” He said softly, as he kissed her forehead, lips meeting again in a kiss.

Her soft hands moved up under his shirt squeezing his hips, soon tugging on the hem until Harry realised she wanted it off. They parted their lips breathlessly as he pulled the shirt up over him, muscles flexing as he threw it somewhere they didn’t care to look. She smirked against the curve of his shoulder as he moved back on top of her, and her hands stroked the rippling muscles of his skin, finding a home on his back.

They were too desperate to get all their clothes off, but Harry had tugged down the top of her dress, fluffy sleeves hanging on her arms lopsidedly, revealing her beautiful chest which had marks already blooming from his previous bites, and he’d bunched her dress up around her hips. The plumes of the skirt of her dress hid her wet little pussy from them both, but he could feel her. He slipped his hand down between her thighs and shoved the thin string that was her knickers to the side so he could slip his prick inside of her with ease.

He looked up at her. She was biting her lip, eyes shut, a look of complete desire on her face. Waiting for him.

“You okay, Trouble? Ready f’me?” He asked her, the tip of him teasing her. Pressing into her swollen clit as her hips squirmed at the attention of him. She was about ready to cry over how much she wanted it.

“Yes, please, Daddy, want you.” She said in a desperate tone, she almost looked in pain over it. He leaned down to kiss her temple before he slowly guided himself inside her. Inch by inch she felt herself split open for him, a familiar sting washing over her like always because of his absolutely ridiculously large prick.

When he reached the hilt of her and had stuffed her as full as he could he leaned back down, arms hugging her close to him, chests pressing together as his head fell into the crook of her shoulder. Her arms had moved to his back, long nails already digging into his skin.

“Fuck,” He whispered. As she moaned at the feeling of him. A soft cry, that had his balls aching for release.

She was breathless from the feeling of being full of him.

When she eventually told him he could move he began to, at a hard but slow pace. Each thrust hit her so hard she let out the loudest noise she ever had. Her pouty lips formed an O shape as she clung to him tightly, trying to stay still despite how sensitive she felt. He was groaning against her shoulder and neck, and the tightness of her pussy had him shaking. She was so warm, and tight, and god. So perfect.

Her mouth was by his arm and she kissed the soft skin, as he began to speed up. The pair of them both getting more and more desperate for their release. She could tell because his thrusts were growing more sloppy, and less calculated. Her hand slid between where they joined, and she began to rub firm lazy circles on her swollen bud. It wasn’t long before she unravelled on his cock, he could feel the way she squeezed him, and soaked his prick, as she cried out his name.

“M’cumming, H, please,” She didn’t know what exactly it was she was begging for. But he seemed too.

He kissed her lips, a gentle peck, “I know, Baby, let me take care of you,” He whimpered, he was trying to help her through it without cumming himself.

Her nails scratched into his back, harshly, as he hissed in pain and pleasure. She nodded, letting him help her through the intense feeling of her orgasm. His cock was so deep, she felt like she wanted to cry.

“Thas’ it, m’love, such a pretty little angel, f’me,” He praised as she squirted on his cock.

When the peak of her orgasm subsided, she noticed Harry’s thrusts grow uneven and she helped him by rolling her hips to meet his.

She looked so spent, and her eyes opened to watch him as he came undone, lip caught between her teeth.

Those eyes are what did it for him. He came, hard, and fast. Hot cum shooting up inside her, as he flopped down with a guttural, deep, moan of her name. Whispering sweet nothings as he let himself fill her up with his release. Balls twitching, while his hot breath raggedly hit her neck.

“S’fuckin’ good,” He said, kissing her lips. “My perfect girl,”

She kissed back tiredly. Just as they were about to kiss even more deeply the shrill sound of Y/n’s phone ringing erupted in the room. Fleetwood Mac was her ringtone and Y/n pulled back to see who it was.

Incoming call from Em💛🌻 lit up Y/n’s screen and a photo of Emma from primary school was the picture. She looked so cute and ridiculous in it.

Y/n now noticed about five messages from her. And Harry noticed her stiffen, pulling out of her to sit up and, she winced at the feeling. Suddenly empty of him, and wishing he’d stayed a little longer.

Harry tried not to notice the way his cum leaked out of her, but it made his cock twitch, he walked around Niall’s room until he found some tissues. Coming over and gently wiping her up, while Y/n replied to Emma’s text.

Her pussy was sore, and swollen, from pleasure. As he cleaned her up, she flinched.

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sorry, Trouble, I’ll try n’ be gentle.”

Once he’d gotten her all cleaned up they sat up and fixed her outfit. Pulling the straps back up over her shoulders, and her fluffy tule down, the sticky knickers covered in their cum made their way off her. His rough hands remained soft on her hips as he slid them off.

“What are you doing, Styles?” She asked eyes wide, and doe-eyed. Suddenly all innocent again, like she hadn’t just squirted all over his cock in someone else’s bed.

“Can’t have you all sticky can I? Don’t worry I’ll hold onto them.” He said sliding them into his front pocket. The pale pink lace bunched up in a tiny ball, not sticking out. All tucked away, their filthy little secret.

She blushed a rosy hue and was about to protest but he kissed her and grabbed her hand to sit her up, pulling her by her wrists to stand up with him. Tugging the hem of her dress down so she was covered, as hunted around the room for his own clothes. Quickly tidying himself up and finding the devil horns that Y/n had thrown out of his hair at some point, before stealing one last kiss from her.

It was deep and slow, tongues melting together, as he moaned softly against her, his hands hugging her body nice and close to his. He felt weird having sex and going back downstairs so quickly, he was so used to cuddling with Y/n now, but he was sure she felt okay and he tried to assure her.

“Go find Em, I’ll find you in a bit, okay? Don’t go anywhere, Trouble,” He said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and placing one final kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

Her face hurt from smiling so much, and she turned to leave, but just as she was about to open the door she turned back around and ran over to him to quickly place a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her, god, she was cute.

And watched as she disappeared back outside into the real world, sighing to himself. He took a moment to sit down on the bed, taking in deep breaths as he beat himself up silently. He was partly celebrating in his head because holy shit, Y/n was his girl now, officially, she’d signed her name on the dotted line with the devil, handing over her precious angel soul. His initial hung around her neck, a silent show.

But he did wish he could’ve told her he loved her. Because god, did he love that girl, his chest physically hurt to be apart from her, it ached. He never felt that way about anyone before. Y/n is home, Y/n is happiness, Y/n is his childhood, and Y/n is his first and only love.

He should tell her. He silently decided to work up the courage soon, when the moment felt right. When neither of them had been drinking.

As Y/n walked down the stairs in search of her decidedly drunken best friend she sighed quietly, hoping the sex she’d just had didn’t wear on her face, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed in a show of how besotten she was for Harry.

Y/n’s legs were stiff, and her pussy was still coming down from the high Harry had given her before. She was sore, his cock was still too big for her, and as she walked she tried not to let on how much he’d ruined her.

Finally spotting her best friend with tears standing by the kitchen she rushed over. Emma began to bombard her with questions but Y/n just shrugged saying she bumped into some people from her Pysch class.

Emma was far too inebriated to notice the stutter and lie and pulled her to the kitchen to do a few shots. By the time they’d done their third Niall pulled them over into an intense game of beer-pong which surprise surprise they both sucked at, resulting in them drinking a lot of stale-tasting beer. After their harsh loss, they floated over to the dancefloor, which was just the living room. Niall was playing some good music tonight, as per usual, and Y/n felt happy as the two girls melted together in a huge mess of limbs and dancing.

She swayed her hips, ass pressed against Emma who had wrapped her arms around Y/n’s neck and shoulders. They were both very drunk now, the shots they’d done catching up to them, and the intense game of beer-pong Niall had roped them into had Y/n stumbling.

The house music that was playing made her feel even more off her face as she let her eyes flutter shut. Emma’s hands crept over to his hips and Y/n began to grind against her. They always danced pretty sexually together, and Y/n felt safe in her arms, she’d rather shake her ass against her best friend than some random frat guy.

And if she had to settle for the other Styles she didn’t mind, but she would rather be dancing against Harry. Who she’d lost, she didn’t know where he had gone now. But she let those thoughts drift away as Emma spun her around and they melted into a hug.

Singing to the song as it came to an end, Y/n lifted her head to look at Emma’s pretty face.

“I love you,” She slurred, obviously drunk. She also thinks Zayn and her had maybe spliffed up a bit. Because Emma’s eyes were red and she looked more out of it than normal.

Y/n smiled. “Love you too, Em.”

“I’m gonna go find Zayn, will you be okay?” She asked.

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, go find him. I’ll go see if Niall is anywhere.”

Emma leaned over planting a peck on her lips, which wasn’t unusual for her, and left. Y/n sighed and instead of finding Niall, she found her body continuing to move along to the rhythm of the song. Her eyes shut once more as she raised her hands and danced her heart out.

She sang along to the song and pretended she was off in a magical land on her own. Time felt like it had slowed. As the song drew to the beat drop she felt a pair of hands slide on her hips and she spun around, uncomfortable at the thought of some strange man grabbing her.

But it wasn’t a strange man, no, it was Niall. She laughed. “Nialler!”

Her hands fell to his shoulders and she began to dance with him. Niall was a notorious flirt across campus, he was bisexual and that meant no one was safe from his constant flirting. And even though Niall had a boyfriend, and wow, now technically she did too they danced like two single people ready to leave together.

His hands melted to her hips and she leaned her chest into his. They jumped and swayed and they were both drunk and on a different planet almost. When she felt another pair of hands melt onto her waist and a warm back press into her she turned to look over her shoulder, it was Harry.

She leaned into his back her bum pressing against his crotch as she felt his hands firmly stay on her hip bones while Niall’s stayed around her waist. Sandwiched between the two very attractive men had her wanting to laugh.

She giggled, and they both did too. Her head fell back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as they continued vibing along with the song. After a few songs, which flew by in the blink of an eye Paddy wandered over and whisked Niall away who left with an eyebrow raise and from the looks of it they were about to go blowie and make up.

As Y/n turned to face her boyfriend she sighed. Her boyfriend. She had one of those!

She leaned forward to plant a quick peck on his lips.

“Take me home, Styles?”

So he did.

love u thanks for ur patience more soon - L xxxx

526 notes · View notes

love-belle · 10 months

Text

yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they're living the childhood best friends to lovers trope.

for when you just can't help falling in love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - just had the most amazing idea for a daniel social media au omg!!! anyways i hope u like this i love you thank you for reading <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 896,525 others

yourusername they say home is where the heart is

7,826 comments

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lilymhe chuckles knowingly

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-> landonorris get away from me im telling ur bf

-> charles_leclerc oui?

-> pierregasly charles??

-> username CHARLES???

-> yourusername get out of my comment section u hoes and lando i can't WAIT to see you on track this weekend

username NOT Y/N TRYING TO SOFT LAUNCH HER RELATIONSHIP

charles_leclerc no surprise he had to cook considering you can't even make cereal

-> yourusername well fuck u too ig

username this comment section is so chaotic i love it sm

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, yourusername and 936,685 others

charles_leclerc eyes like sinking ships on waters so inviting i almost jump in

8,627 comments

username GOODBYE

username NOT CHARLES USING TAYLOR SWIFT LYRICS

username i feel like i've gone to an alternate dimension

username IS NO ONE GONNA ACKNOWLEDGE THE SECOND PICTURE?????? HELLO???????

lewishamilton hope you're both having fun 🤍🤍🤍

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username THE GRID KNOWS SOMETHING I SWEAR

username i have questions

username CHARLES AND Y/N BOTH SOFT LAUNCHING AT THE SAME TIME

-> username i've connected the clues

-> username u didn't connect shit

-> username i've connected them

pierregasly woah rue when was this???

-> charles_leclerc haha well you see

-> pierregasly i'm seeing.

-> charles_leclerc my phone fell in the water ok bye.

-> username charles is fighting for his life rn

-> username dude can't lie for shit 😭😭😭

username i already know she's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourusername charles is a swiftie confirmed ⁉️⁉️⁉️

-> charles_leclerc in your dreams

carlossainz55 she has changed you

-> charles_leclerc i know, my playlist is literally just taylor swift and harry styles at this point

-> yourusername she clearly has great taste

-> charles_leclerc of course she does, she's dating me

-> yourusername right!!!!! ofc!!!!!!

username everyone knows something

-> pierregasly i don't

-> username same brother 🫤🫤🫤

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by f1wags_, chxrleslxclxrc, hearts4y/n and 78,637 others

paddock.news charles leclerc and y/n gasly spark dating rumors after "soft launching" simultaneously on various social media platforms. rumors have always surrounded the pair through the years, but this time we believe that they're not just rumors. they have also been spotted out on "dates" as y/n has been attending various grand prix to support her brothers and friend and now apparently, boyfriend. they've also been posting each other on their instagram stories a lot lately. neither of the parties have made a comment about this, though we are rooting for them. for more details, click on the link in our bio.

5,267 comments

username NAH THEY'RE DEFINITELY DATING

username pierre is gonna go crazy omg

username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username they're already married in head so 🥱

username no bc they're literally living the childhood best friends to lovers trope

username pierre is gonna lose his mind i can just tell

username praying for charles 🙏🙏🙏

username no bc charles is in for hell of a ride bc y/n's literally everyone's favourite on the grid

-> username imagine having 19 drivers out to k!ll u

-> username not to mention a couple team principals 😭😭😭

username CHARLES MF LECLERC U BETTER SQUARE THE FUCK UP FOR STEALING MY WIFE

username they're so domestic coded in the second slide like 🫤🫤🫤

username what wouldn't i do to be a fly on the wall when pierre and charles see eachother

username my generation's romeo and juliet or whatever

username they're so you're in love by taylor swift coded

username i want what they have 💔💔💔💔

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carmenmmundt and 892,915 others

charles_leclerc no i don't like the tshirt

tagged yourusername

8,156 comments

username SHUT UP

username IS THIS A CONFIRMATION

username THE FIRST TSHIRT OMG

username i NEED that tshirt omg

lewishamilton personally, i love the tshirt

-> yourusername RIGHT

-> charles_leclerc both of you are so wrong

username HELLO HI WHAT IS THIS WHAT WHATCJWAT

username SIR U CAN'T JUST POST THIS AND DIP

username I NEED THAT SHIRT SO BAD OH MY GOD

username these bitches need to stop playing

username mf say it with your chest that y'all dating

yourusername but u like the one who's wearing it

-> charles_leclerc eh debatable

-> yourusername sorry can't hear u over u sending me 2528298 messages when i went out to get the newspaper from outside our DOOR

-> charles_leclerc STOP

-> username NAH THIS BOY IS DOWN BAD

-> username OUR DOOR?????????

-> username HELLO????

username the real fashion icon of the paddock

-> yourusername real lewis got nothing on me

*liked by charles_leclerc and lewishamilton*

username im so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭

pierregasly someone let me out

-> charles_leclerc will you chase me with a fork again?

-> yourusername and will you stop throwing napkins and spoons at my bf???

-> pierregasly yes

-> pierregasly (no)

-> yourusername ur staying in the bathroom

-> pierregasly LET ME OUT

-> username NOT PIERRE CHASING CHARLES WITH A FORK

-> username CAN'T BELIEVE THEY LOCKED HIM IN THE BATHROOM

-> username IM CRYING OMG

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 916,628 others

yourusername yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool but he's not as cool as me argue in the comments

tagged charles_leclerc

comments are disabled for this post

#f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #social media au #fake instagram imagines #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic

3K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 2 months

Note

Mother..... im so sorry 😭😭 but i swear this ones fun!!

What about another part to poly!moonwater where theres a party but Reg and Rem are running late.

Reg: * anxious and fidgety*

Rem: you know we dont have to go

Reg: no no no we most definetly do, anyway its not that. You havent seen y/n in this environmemt before have you?? She thrives in this kind of environment.

Rem: cant be that bad.....

Reg: 😶 think of Potter, Barty amd my brother in one person.

Rem: 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🥲

So when they get there reader is dancing on tables with Barty and Siri. Just the kind of person who lets go in that kinda vibe, doesnt even have to drink, its just the atmosphere that causes her personality to do a whole 180°. The kinda person you habe to but an airtag on so you dont loose them

I love it I love it I love it I love it

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

CW: mention of drinking, drunkenness and alcohol. Friends looking after their drunk friends. Friends bullying their other drunk friends (lovingly)

Remus was thankful that tonight’s Hogwarts party wasn’t being hosted in Gryffindor tower. Not only did James and Sirius get far too invested before, during, and afterwards, but it was also just harder to enjoy on account of watching what was basically your living room be trashed by a bunch of drunks.

But tonight, he was going to be able to enjoy a nice time with his friends without any of the responsibility of having to clean up after said friends.

And better yet, he was going to enjoy a nice time with you and Regulus; the first party the three of you would attend together as partners.

You had been very excited for tonight and had volunteered to help set up, whilst Remus opted to wait for Regulus who had quidditch practice before hand.

And Remus was currently very happy with his choice as he got to watch Regulus change out of his quidditch gear and into his party attire.

“Would you quit ogling me, you fiend.” Regulus muttered as be buttoned the cufflinks into his dress shirt. Remus would have made fun of him for dressing so formally to a dorm party if he didn’t look so bloody good.

“Nope.” He said, popping the P.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but Remus could see a small smirk playing on his lips.

Regulus let out a steadying breath and turned to Remus. “Are you ready?”

Remus smiled before puckering his lips instead of answering. Regulus looked like he thought he should be annoyed, but ultimately gave in and pressed a kiss to the werewolf’s lips, hovering slightly above him as Remus sat reclined onto his elbows on Regulus’ bed.

Regulus pulled away all too quickly for Remus’ liking and began fussing in front of the mirror again, clearly anxious.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently, sitting up properly.

Regulus sighed but nodded in the affirmative.

“We don’t have to go, you know.” Remus tried, mistaking the boy’s nerves for being reclusive.

Regulus kind of snorted at that and looked at Remus with a raised eyebrow. “No, we should go. In fact, we ought to go...like, now.”

Remus felt his brows furrow as Regulus headed towards the door, getting up and following him out obediently.

“This isn’t one of those ‘if we go sooner, we can leave sooner’ tactics, is it? Because with James and Sirius, I promise you that won’t work.”

Regulus laughed. “No, though I’d like to point out I am not afraid of those sods.”

“Well, who are you afraid of that has you sprinting to Ravenclaw tower right now?” Remus asked, causing Regulus to grimace a little guiltily as he slowed his stride for the lycanthrope.

“Sorry... I guess you haven’t seen Y/N at one of these?” Regulus asked.

Remus realized then that your paths had never really crossed until this year, being a year below him and hanging out with a different crowd. “No, I guess not. Why?”

Regulus laughed. “Oh gods. You’ll see.”

“Come on, she can’t be that bad.” Remus said with a scoff.

Regulus rolled his eyes and smirked. “If I had one way to describe Y/N at a party, it would be a combination of Potter after a quidditch win, Sirius after four shots of firewhiskey and Barty.”

Remus’ steps faltered as he put the pieces together in his head. Regulus paused as well, making eye contact with him before understanding seemed to cross between them, and they both took off in a sprint towards the Ravenclaw tower.

As they rounded the last spiral of the staircase, they stepped past the silencing spell that had been placed around it and could feel the vibrations from the music booming in the room.

A third year Ravenclaw who had been paid for their service in Honeydukes chocolates answered the riddle to allow entrance to Regulus and Remus, and the sight took Remus’ breath away.

You can dance! You can ji-ive.

You were standing dancing on the mantle of a grand fireplace with Sirius on one side of you and one of the Prewett twins on the other.

Having the time of your lives. Oooooh.

James looked like he’d been trying all evening to get up on that mantle with you guys, but in his inebriated state, Lily was easily preventing him from doing so.

See that girl!

Both Sirius and... Fabian (if Remus guessed correctly) knelt to dramatically point at you who quickly struck a cheeky pose, earning the three of you cheers (but Remus was sure most of the applause was on your account).

Watch that scene!

Sirius pretended to play a riff on a guitar and Fabian did a scary looking spin from his place on the mantle whilst you opted to shimmy your shoulders in time with the music.

Digging the dancing queen!

And to Remus’ absolutely horror, Fabian launched himself off of the mantle, seemingly making his mark by landing on the couch but apparently, he hadn’t taken into account the springs in the sofa which promptly launched him back off of the couch and had him landing on the wooden coffee table, causing it to splinter and break underneath him.

Sirius looked like he was going to either fall off the mantle or piss his pants from laughing too hard, clutching your arm as you laughed along with him.

Over Remus’ dead body would Sirius fall off a fireplace mantle and take you down with him.

He bodily moved through the crowd and stepped over Fabian without a second thought to stand below you (and Sirius, technically). Remus’ heart rate skyrocketed even more standing here below you, seeing as he was about 192cm (~6’3) and the mantle stood basically at his eyebrows.

He wanted to chide you, but your face cleared beautifully once you recognized who was standing below you.

“Remmy!” You cried as Sirius cheered “Moony!”

“I know I call you ‘dove’ baby girl, but that doesn’t mean you can fly!” He called up to you, any reprimand likely belittled by the beaming smile he was shooting at you.

He held his hands up to you, and you quickly abandoned Sirius’ arms in exchange for his. With his hands under your armpits he gently lowered you back down to your proper height (which Remus much preferred).

“Hi Rem!” You cheered at him. “I missed you.”

Your words were clear and loud if a little slurred.

“I missed you!” Remus replied with a smile as Regulus quickly added “how many drinks have you had?” from his place behind him, apparently having made sure his ‘idiot brother didn’t break anything on his trip off the mantle’. Remus had sort of forgotten Sirius was there at all, to be honest.

You seemed a little worried at Regulus’ question before he quickly added “I need to know how many I need to catch up to you, mon chéri.”

“Nice save.” Remus muttered to him.

“Uhm, maybe four?” You offered.

“Got it, think you can handle a refill?” He asked, placing a kiss to your temple. Remus wanted to eat the two of you up, you were just so cute.

“I’m on water for a bit!” You cheered back at him.

“So smart, dovey. Nice call.” Remus praised you. You beamed back at him in response.

“S’not fair!” James shouting interrupted your chat.

“I’ll go get you a drink too, okay?” Regulus whispered into Remus’ ear before quickly taking off, clearly not interested in the whining of an inebriated James Potter.

“M’not ‘llowed to dance on th’mantle, m’not allowed to-to play with the play with the suit’s o’armours. Why’d I even come.” James cried miserably between hiccups.

“James, you cannot sword fight with the suits of armours, you will lose. When you lose a sword fight, you die.” Lily reprimanded, clearly at her wits end with her boyfriend.

“Awe, tough hand mate. Hey! Can I challenge you to a chugging contest?” Remus said, clapping James on the back.

James seemed to brighten up at that as Lily quickly scowled at him. Remus offered the redhead a wink as he plucked your cup of water out of your hands and handed it to James.

“’kay, but no cheating!” James called to Remus. Remus figured James was too drunk to realize one couldn’t really cheat at a chugging contest, but Remus didn’t plan on winning anyway.

Regulus had returned at the perfect time for Remus to take a drink and bring it to his lips. James, in his enthusiasm ended up wearing most of the water, but claimed he won after downing the rest of it.

“No way James, I want a rematch!” Remus called, grabbing the new cup of water Regulus had brought over for you - quickly promising to make it up to you - and handing it off to James.

The group ended up being able to keep James entertained by challenging him to ‘chugging contests’ whilst handing him cups of water until he had to pee.

Remus got to watch you flit around the party, dancing to your hearts content (though, he did make sure to discourage you from anymore high surface areas. When he couldn’t, he made sure to spot you from below), and even convincing Regulus to ball dance with you, even though it was to the likes of Jackson 5. Though you quickly abandoned him for Sirius when Play That Funky Music came on.

Remus was sat in a large cushioned chair with Regulus in his lap as they watched you, clearly in your element.

“Gods, she’s fun.” Remus whispered to his boyfriend. Regulus breathed out a chuckle and leaned further into Remus.

“She is. She can be trouble sometimes though. Probably good that Barty’s nowhere to be found.”

Regulus’ voice trailed off confusedly at the end.

“What is it?” Remus asked, but you came barrelling over to them, slightly sweaty and breathless from your dancing.

“Hi.” You breathed excitedly, falling to your knees in front of them.

“Hi dovey! Having fun?” Remus asked, bringing his hand not currently holding his drink and wrapped around Regulus’ waist to caress your face. His heart squeezed as your eyes closed and you leaned into the touch. “S’much fun.”

“Amour, where is Barty?” Regulus asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed momentarily before a cheeky smile crossed your face as you remembered.

“Oh, he’s...hanging around.” You offered vaguely.

“Should I be worried?” Regulus asked cautiously, earning him a snort from Lily as she hauled a nearly sleeping James over to the couch beside them.

“The sod was swinging from the chandelier and got stuck. None of us bothered trying to get him down – he’s fast asleep.” She explained, gesturing to the ceiling with a nod of her head.

Sure enough, nearly right above them, Barty was passed out cold as if he were simply swinging in a hammock.

“Hm...” Regulus deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at you. “Amour, did someone bet Barty that he couldn’t manage to get to the chandelier?”

“No.” You answered quickly, defiantly. Regulus continued staring impassively at you until you sighed. “I bet him he couldn’t get down from the chandelier.”

“And she was right.” Lily added, giving you a fist bump.

Regulus let out a long suffering sigh, causing Remus to chuckled and rub his side placatingly.

“Fair enough, sweets.” He conceded.

“Easy for you to say.” Regulus muttered. “You aren’t responsible for getting him down.”

“Just leave him up there.” Sirius commented; he wasn’t quite as drunk as Remus expected him to be, but his movements were still sloppy as he moved to sit on the floor beside you. “That’s apparently what friends do.” He said pointedly, glaring at Remus and sticking his tongue out at him.

“I had more important priorities.” He said, winking down at you.

“Are-are you s,saying that Y/N’s more impo- important than your mate, Rmussss?” James said – barely – through hiccups.

“Certainly prettier priorities.” Regulus commented.

“Oi!” Sirius shouted far louder than necessary. “You take that back!”

“I’ll do no such thing.” Regulus responded casually.

Sirius went to stand from his place, no doubt to try to roughhouse his brother.

“It’s okay Sirius. I think you’re very pretty. Next time, you can be the dancing queen.” You placated. Sirius turned to look at you like you hung the moon.

“Really?!” He cried. You nodded, causing the sod to launch himself, tackling you in a hug and causing the two of you to fall over.

“Oi! Don’t crush my darlin’ girl, Pads!” Remus called at the same time as Regulus spat “if she has so much as one fucking bruise Sirius, I swear to Salazar...”

“Do forgive him,” Lily commented, “he was just informed he could be the next dancing queen.”

“Why mess with perfection? I happen to think Y/N was a wonderful dancing queen!” Marlene called from somewhere behind Remus.

“I MISSED DANCING QUEEN!?” Barty screeched from his aerial prison above them.

Regulus let out another long-suffering sigh as he stood, lifted you up out of Sirius’ grasp and placed you in his vacated spot on Remus’ lap. “I’ll go get my broom to get him down...”

“How’d you manage to win that bet, dove?” Remus whispered as Regulus disappeared through the door, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck.

“Sticking charm.”

Remus chuckled and felt the breaths leaving his nose bounce off your skin and back into his face.

“My cheeky little minx.”

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chiye21 · 2 years

Text

rules: tag 9 people you’d like to know/catch-up with

tagged by @skadren! :D

last song listened to: "Five Years" by Bo Burnham last show: Paripi Koumei currently watching: Spy x Family currently reading: Slowly getting through American Gods by Neil Gaiman while also going through a shitton of p5 fanfiction. no i dont know why my brain does this

tagging: uhhh if u see this and wanna do it :)

#woagh it sure has been a while since ive done one of these!#tag game #and well . i sure have been listening to five years on loop for uh #checks watch #a week #also like i can consume SO much short fanfic but im struggling to get through an actual book #worth it for neil gaiman tho . favorite author to ever exist #im so late to the party with american gods but in my defense i was uhhh struggling to get through textbooks instead

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dark-fics-4-you · 3 months

Note

hi queen 🤍 the way i squealed when i saw ur post PLS

ok but umm what if your tire went flat at night and dark!rafe happens to be driving by, kinda crossed after leaving a party super late but he stops and helps you…. but plans to make you pay him back one way or another right there on the side of the road even tho you thought it was just a nice stranger doing a favor…..aldfjidoendkd

dw im seeking out help rn.

it’s okay i need to seek out help for writing this the way i did. This fic alone is putting feminism back 50 years okay sorryyyyy enjoy

Equal Exchange

Warnings: noncon, smut, reader gets assaulted by a stranger, degradation, rough sex, implied drug use, misogyny, slut shaming

“Fuck!” You hissed, slapping your steering wheel in frustration before flicking your hazard lights on.

Of all the times and places for a tire to pop, of course 1AM on a back road was just your luck.

You opened your door, examining your parking job before checking out your tires. Sure enough, the right hand rear tire had a gash in it, and was now considerably less full than the others.

With a groan, you retreated to your trunk, opening it and locating your spare. However, only then did you remember lending your jack and wrench to a friend and you cursed angrily.

How could you change the tire now?

As if on cue, the back of your car lit up as another car approached. You spun around, only to be momentarily blinded by the truck’s headlights, but you could hear the large vehicle slowing to a stop.

You nervously shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you watched the door of the truck open and a tall, blond man exited and walked closer to you.

“Engine trouble?” He calmly asked, blue eyes looking down at you kindly. The scent of weed hit your nose, and although you silently judged the guy for driving while high, you weren’t one to turn down help when it found you.

“No, my tire popped. I have a spare, but I don’t have the tools to fix it,” you sheepishly explained, crossing your arms around your chest when the cool wind made you shiver.

“Lucky I was in the area then.” He said with a friendly grin. “I’ve got a jack and a whole tool kit in my truck. I’m Rafe, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Thank you so much for the help Rafe, I really appreciate it!”

You watched as the blond got his kit and jack out, and then observed as he masterfully changed your tire. You didn’t miss the way he glanced over the stickers you had on the window there, a couple band ones and then a few feminist stickers that he stared at for just a little bit longer than you were comfortable with.

However, he was helping you out, and by the time your spare tire was on, you had almost forgotten about the way he looked at your stickers.

“Wow, I can’t thank you enough Rafe, you really saved my skin. I’m glad you were driving around here tonight when you were,” you politely smiled up at him, genuinely grateful for him coming to your aid.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His eyes lingered on yours but he made no movements to go back to his truck, instead taking a step towards you.

You backed up nervously, why was he coming closer to you rather than going back to his car? It was well past midnight and maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you, but you suddenly really wanted to leave.

“Well, it’s late so I better get home,” you started to turn away from him, but his hand flew out and clamped down on your wrist.

You whipped around to face him, crying out and wincing at the painful way his fingers were digging into your skin.

“What are you-?”

“You just said I saved your skin, didn’t you?” There was an icy edge in his voice, and Rafe pulled you closer to him, chin ticking as he looked down at you in disapproval. “I mean, if it weren’t for me you’d be stranded all alone out here for god knows how long.”

“I-I know, I said thank you, Rafe, now please just let me go!”

“What if I didn’t want to, hm? Are you going to make me?” He chuckled when your face dropped, enjoying watching the severity of the situation he had placed you in dawn on you.

“I mean, don’t you think you could repay me for sticking my neck out for a dumb bitch like you?” He held you in place with one hand, allowing the other to snake around your throat.

Your eyes widened and you thrashed against him when he clamped down around the tender skin, choking you hard.

With all of your power, you aimed your knee in between his legs, missing his crotch, but still catching him off guard enough to get him to release you.

You screamed as you pulled away from him, hoping that someone else might hear you and come to your rescue.

Stretching your fingers out to reach for the handle of the door, you had almost grabbed it when Rafe’s large arms encircled your waist, tearing you away from the door.

You were no match against his strength and he easily pushed you back before getting behind you and shoving you as he bent you over the hood of your car.

You yelped when your hips painfully dug into the metal in a way you were sure would leave bruises.

His large hands pawed at your clothes, and you hopelessly struggled in his arms. When he ripped your shorts and panties down in one movement, dread gripped your heart. You felt dizzy with fear.

Before you could even register the chill of the night air, Rafe roughly slammed your head against the hood of your car, holding it there and chuckling at your terror before hissing into your ear as he undid his shorts with one hand, “I’ve never understood girls like you. I mean, you have those dumbass girl power stickers all over your car but you can’t even change a tire by yourself. And I bet you learned that little move after mommy signed you up for a self defense course, huh? You can take all the classes in the world, but you never really stood a chance against me, sweetheart. I mean, you are so fucking stupid it’s actually adorable.”

His cruel words brought a burning pink tinge of shame to your cheeks, tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

When you felt the tip of his cock brush against your slit, you tried to move again to get away, but you were pinned down by his rough hold on your skull.

“Uh uh, Y/N,” your name sounded all wrong on his tongue, and the smug overfamiliarity from this stranger who was now assaulting you made your stomach turn in disgust. You froze when he pressed the head against your slit again, this time you were slick enough for him to slowly press the tip past your lips and into your warm cunt.

“You’re gonna stay still if you don’t want to get hurt,” his sick laugh barely reached your ears, as your focus was locked on the building pressure between your legs as Rafe pushed himself into you, painfully stretching you out inch by inch.

You whimpered as he sheathed himself inside you, trembling with adrenaline and fear underneath him. He was big, too big, and you clenched around him when he tilted his hips back before snapping them against your ass.

“Fuck, Y/N, I thought I wasn’t gonna get any tonight after that party turned out to be so lame but shit-” he groaned before slowly starting to push his cock in and out of your heat.

“I guess I got lucky after all,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your spine and your tears only made you feel worse. Each stroke of his length was agonizing.

You could barely adjust to the feel of his thick cock dragging along your walls, it felt like he was going to split you open. The pressure between your legs had you gasping and crying out in a confusing mixture of pain and pleasure.

“God you’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he groaned. “I knew you’d be worth stopping for.”

Rafe was rutting into you faster now, enjoying the way you fearfully looked up at him through teary eyes as he took advantage of you.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying this, Y/N.” His taunting voice was punctuated by his sharp thrusts, each one rocking your body. “Why else would you be moaning like such a fucking slut?”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #rafe cameron smut #equal exchange #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader

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holllandtrash · 11 months

Text

death of me | carlos sainz

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x reader

in short, the three times you didn't tell carlos you loved him and the one time it was almost too late.

i actually had 2 requests with these prompts so this is those requests 1: “You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want” 11: “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did.” 94: “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”

Word count: 9.8k

warnings/tags: 18+ angst, fluff, plot with some smut, very light dom/sub blink and you miss it, this is a goddamn rollercoaster im sorry

17 August 2023

You got the call and honestly, you thought it was a joke. Some horrible, practical joke that someone in your life had set up because they knew it would get to you.

Which is why you laughed when you heard the person on the other line say, “There’s been an accident.”

“Yeah, okay,” you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dried the bowl in your hand, finally getting to the stack of dishes you had been neglecting since this morning. “Who put you up to this?”

“No, this isn’t a joke, Miss,” the woman on the line said. “I’m calling from the Jiminez Diaz Hospital. There’s been an accident. Carlos Sainz Jr. was involved in a car accident. He’s-

You didn't hear the rest of whatever the nurse had to say. The ringing in your eyes drowned her out, along with the bowl slipping from your grasp and crashing onto the floor, pieces of blue ceramic shattered around your feet.

Frozen, you tried to listen to the calming voice on the other end of the line, the voice telling you that he was undergoing surgery. She couldn’t provide any more additional information, but she encouraged you, as his emergency contact, to come to the hospital as soon as you possibly could.

As you hurried to find your keys, your relationship with Carlos flashed before your eyes. Every moment, every laugh, every kiss, every fight, every word said and unsaid.

And god there were way too many words you hadn’t got the chance to say.

31 December 2022

Carlos grabbed hold of your waist and you giggled before slipping out of his hold, reaching for the bottle of champagne on top of the fridge. He tried to take it from you, knowing that you probably weren’t going to be able to successfully open it but you just aimed the cork in his direction and he backed off.

“That’s the third bottle,” Carlos told you, he wasn’t scolding, just casually pointing out that you were going to have a massive headache tomorrow morning.

“And it’s about to be the twenty-third year,” you said. Which was technically incorrect, but Carlos admired your excitement too much to correct you. You pointed the bottle in the direction of the hallway and he braced himself for the cork to go flying.

When you managed to pop it off without his help, the bubbly liquid came pouring out the side and you laughed as you held it up above Carlos’ face, instructing him to open his mouth. He listened, but your aim was horrible and the champagne spilled down the side of his chin.

“Here,” Carlos said, taking the bottle from you. You looked up at him and smiled, needing to take a second to focus on him and not on how the walls behind him were spinning. Carlos’ touch was soft as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip, opening your mouth enough for him to pour some of the champagne down your throat as well.

You were drunk, but you were still standing so you considered that a win. You just needed to last twelve more minutes till midnight and then you could collapse on the couch with him if you wanted.

The two of you were supposed to go out to a house party that his friend was throwing. But then you walked out of the bedroom wearing a silk red dress that stopped at your thighs and your hair in perfect waves that looked ideal for Carlos to tangle his fingers through and he quickly decided that he didn’t want to share you going into the New Year. The only person he wanted to celebrate with was you.

So he grabbed one of the champagne bottles and picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder as you squealed. He carried you back into the room you just walked out of and as much as he admired the dress on you, it looked so much better stained with champagne and crumpled on the floor.

You had only been together a few weeks, you were still in the honeymoon stage, which is part of the reason why you were more than happy to just stay at home with him tonight. You couldn’t get enough of him, and Carlos felt the same.

Carlos worshipped you. He had ever since the night you first met, which just so happened to be the first time you slept together.

He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a hookup after catching his eye at the club. You were supposed to go home the next morning, but how could you go home when he woke you up by leaving a trail of kisses down your naval and then across your thighs before he dove into your centre. He worked his tongue through your folds, not slowing until you were seeing stars.

When you did finally cum, legs convulsing around him, Carlos licked up every drop of your juices and then his lips found their way back to yours. He told you he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and that was when you knew you were absolutely fucked.

Carlos knew your body, he knew how to pleasure you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. It was the sexual drive and the lust between you that drove you to him in the first place, but you stayed for so much more.

You stayed because he memorised your coffee order after the first morning you spent together. You stayed because he listened to you talk about your family for, you timed it, three and a half hours because he wanted to hear all about the ties and the drama and the people that raised you. You stayed because Carlos treated every date like the first one, always looking for ways to impress you, to make you blush or smile.

So there were, four weeks later and ignoring his friends and the promise you made to celebrate New Years Eve with them, because let’s face it, Carlos much preferred having you on your knees in front of him than having to make small talk until the clock struck midnight.

His fingers twisted through your hair as he released into your mouth and pulled out of you, but before you could swallow he kept your mouth open with a tight grip on your chin. Carlos grabbed the champagne bottle next to him and poured the bubbly liquid down your throat. The subtle twitch of his eyebrow was the instruction you were waiting for and you swallowed, tasting the sweet and salty mixture of champagne and him.

You spent your evening tangled up in the sheets, you on top of him, him on top of you. When you left for a moment to go grab a second bottle of champagne, Carlos followed and hoisted you up on the counter, picking up right where you left off.

Now you were drunk. It was the champagne, yes, but it was also Carlos. He was intoxicating, he made you feel bubbly more than the drink itself did. He’s the one you couldn’t get enough of. With his shaggy, dark hair and even darker gaze, you pulled his face to yours and wiped the excess liquid from his chin. You sucked on the pad of your thumb, your lips pulling back into a devious smirk as Carlos groaned, dropping his face to the crook of your neck.

“Tú serás la muerte de mí,” You’ll be the death of me.

“Good,” you whispered, inhaling a sharp breath when he attached his lips to your throat, nibbling and sucking on your already marked up skin. You could still feel the ghost of his fingertips from when he choked you earlier, something you both loved, but his mouth was also enough to leave you gasping for air.

He knew you, he knew your body. He anticipated your reaction every time he touched you. And while you both thought you were taking a break to be able to catch the countdown, even having put on one of his shirts to keep his eyes from wandering, you were almost ready to drag him back to the bedroom because Carlos Sainz Jr. was also going to be the death of you.

But it was New Years Eve.

“Carlos,” you whimpered, pulling your fingers through his hair and giving him a sharp tug so he would lift his head. You hovered your lips over his, “We’ll miss the countdown.”

“I don’t care,” he chuckled, he nudged his nose against yours before connecting your lips. You both still tasted like champagne and god you couldn’t get enough of it. Carlos smiled against your lips and pulled back when he felt you pout. “What, hermosa?”

“I like the countdown,” you admitted, the volume you spoke at dropping about ten levels as you stared up at him through your lashes. “It’s like we get to start a new chapter in our lives at midnight.”

His smile didn’t fade because he loved the way you looked at the world with such a pure lens. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. You expected him to kiss you again but he just pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“The only chapters I care about are the ones with you in it.”

You were drunk, but god did that line sober you up.

You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol flowing through your system or if it was because your heart was beating too fast for your own good, but your lips parted with the intent of saying those three little words.

Because you knew then, at that moment, you loved him.

But Carlos kissed you and swallowed the words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue. You thought that maybe that was for the better. It had only been four weeks. A month. It was too soon to tell him you loved him, you’d scare him off. You didn’t need to start a new year with a traumatised boyfriend.

So you kept it to yourself and told yourself that there would come a better time to tell him how you felt because even though you were certain you loved the man standing before you, now was not the time to say it.

But when was the time?

16 Feb 2023

You opened up the top drawer of the dresser that sat across from Carlos’ bed, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could pull your clothes out from it.

“Don’t,” he said, demanded basically. “Don’t pack up your things.”

Ripping your arm from his grasp, you ignored his plea and grabbed the pile of clothes that had accumulated here over the last couple months. It started as a joke, leaving your clothes here, at his place, telling him that you needed an excuse to come over.

And then one t-shirt turned into half of your closet being crammed in with his. Carlos didn’t complain once.

But you couldn’t live in this fantasy world you had created for yourselves any longer. Carlos was about to travel to Bahrain for the start of the season and then he’d head to Italy in between races and then Jeddah and then Australia and you’d be here. In Madrid.

“I’m not staying in your house while you’re travelling around the world racing,” you scoffed, hoping he could see how preposterous the idea was. He opened his mouth, giving you that same look he gave you every time he was about to bring up the idea of you travelling with him. You pointed a finger in his face, “And I’m not going with you.”

You couldn’t. You had a life here, a job here. You had no idea how other girlfriends and partners of these drivers were able to get up and leave their homes for a half of a week to support them, but you couldn’t do that.

Carlo yanked the clothes out of your hands and shoved them back into the drawer. You scowled at him, not like you were very intimidating but you tried to be.

“Carlos,” you huffed out his name. “Let me pack, let me move out. This has been fun but-”

“But nothing,” Carlos cut you off and reached for your arm once more, pulling you towards him. You had been avoiding his eyes for the last hour and he knew something was up, something that went further than just taking your clothes home. “Talk to me, hermosa.”

Carlos didn’t just know your body, he knew you. Your mannerisms, your anxious fidgeting, your facial expressions. He knew your thoughts travelling through your head before you did, the two of you were so in sync it was terrifying.

So he physically felt the heavy exhale you finally let out, forcing all of the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders into the space between you.

“Why does this feel like a break up?” He asked, trailing his hand up your arm. His touch was soft and comforting and you wished it was enough to make everything better. It should have been enough.

And your next few words didn’t just hurt you, they sliced right through Carlos.

“Because I think it is a break up.”

Carlos let go of you to rub his hands over his face before tugging them through his hair. He backed up, putting a little bit more space between your bodies because as much as he wanted to hold you and tell you that you were making a mistake, he heard the certainty in your voice. The ‘I think’ was only added for his benefit. Your mind was made up. He knew it.

And you had seemingly known it for a while, too. You knew this moment was coming.

He walked out of the room when you turned your face, no longer trying to stop you from packing up your bags. He shut the door after him, refraining from slamming it because that’s not who Carlos was. He didn’t do things out of haste and anger, he wasn’t a reactive person.

No, Carlos sat in his thoughts and his feelings and he let them simmer. He thought about the last few months and wondered if it meant anything at all to you, because he thought it did.

And now you were throwing it all away and because what? Because you didn’t want a partner who travelled for a living? You weren’t even trying to put the effort in, you were giving up before it got difficult. And who’s to say it would get difficult? Carlos’ home was still in Madrid, he would always come back to you and now you weren’t giving him the option to.

He could hear you packing from down the hall, a few drawers shutting, his closet opening and closing. This was wrong. And if it felt wrong to him he knew it must have felt wrong for you too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

When you walked out a while later, a duffle bag over your shoulder, a small suitcase behind you, you still avoided his eyes as much as you could because you didn’t want him to know you had been crying. You didn’t want him to know that this break up was destroying you, but was ultimately the right thing to do.

Carlos stood up and approached you, still keeping his emotions in check even though it broke him to see you so hurt, so hurt over your own choices.

This could be avoided, he thought. This didn’t need to end.

You dropped the bag to the ground and inhaled a deep breath. You glanced at Carlos, but only momentarily as he stood in front of you. It was a lot easier to look at the buttons of his shirt or the rings on his hand or literally anything else because meeting his gaze was too hard.

But this is why you had to leave.

You hated goodbyes and if you had to say goodbye to him every week, if you were going to be in different countries for most of the year, if you weren’t even going to be with him, then what was the point of this relationship?

You wanted to grow with your partner and you couldn’t do that if they were a Formula 1 driver. You couldn’t grow with Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a shake of your head. He could hear the way you choked to get those words out, fighting back even more tears.

Carlos, knowing he didn’t have much a chance to convince you into staying, still lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and choosing to look past the way you winced as you leaned into his touch, as if already thinking about how this would be the last time you’d feel this sense of comfort.

“Don’t do this,” Carlos said, voice timid and lanced with desperation. “Please.”

“Carlos, please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”

“I love you.”

You froze.

Even as Carlos rested his other palm against the side of your face and forced your attention on him, dipping his head as he repeated those words, you remained frozen.

“I love you,” he spoke with so much confidence it scared you. “I love you and I don’t want this to be over. It can’t be over.”

It wasn’t that you couldn’t say those words back because you didn't reciprocate them, you couldn’t say it back because it would only make things harder. Up until now, neither of you had said you loved the other. And up until now, you were perfectly happy pushing what you felt for him down because the timing never felt right and now you knew why.

Deep down you always knew that you’d find yourself needing to walk away.

He’d have an easier time letting you go if you told him you didn’t love him and while it would have been a lie, it was what he needed to hear.

You stepped back and grabbed the duffle bag off the floor, his arms fell back to his sides.

“I’m sorry, Carlos, I don’t-” you turned to the door, letting your hair fall in front of your face, “I don’t love you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He wasn’t arrogant, but he was persistent.

“Well it’s true,” you pulled the strap of the bag over your shoulder and reached for the handle of the door. If you just avoided his big brown eyes and the stare that had you hooked before either of you ever said a word, you could leave. You pulled open the door, only for him to press his palm against it and slam it shut again.

You felt his chest against your back as he stepped forward. Each breath he took was in sync with yours, because you two were always in sync, even at the worst of times.

“I don’t love you,” you repeated, raising your voice.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, then.”

You couldn’t.

You couldn’t because the moment you turned around you would fall back into his arms. You’d let yourself get swept away by his promises and his affection and then he’d leave for a race and then another and another. You loved this bubble you created during the office season and you fell so hard so fast for Carlos, but it wasn’t meant to last.

“I’m leaving,” was all you could get, gripping the handle again and yanking the door open with such force that Carlos had no choice but to take a step back. He tried to reach for you, his fingers ghosted over yours, but there was nothing he could do to stop you.

You were gone.

June 4 2023

You kept up with the races throughout the beginning of the season. You still followed his account and all of the motorsport ones he was associated with. You didn’t dare like or comment on any of them, but you weren’t ready to let him go.

Telling Carlos you didn’t love him was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

And you didn’t let yourself look at him as you said it either, you didn’t take on any of the pain that he felt. You said the words, you broke his heart and then you left.

Carlos didn’t try to reach out once, not like you expected him to. Even when he was home between races, which wasn’t often, you’d only hear about it from social media.

But this was what you wanted, right? You wanted this life, you wanted to stay home. You didn’t want to keep chasing after a Formula 1 driver and be forced to follow him from country to country if you wanted to spend time with him. That wasn't healthy nor was it something you wanted to put yourself through.

Getting over him, however, was impossible.

And you tried, really. You went out with your friends, you distracted yourself, you picked up hobby after hobby but good god your thoughts always travelled back to him.

You fought with yourself. You kept asking yourself if you made a mistake by ending things. You kept wondering why you didn’t at least try. But then you’d see a photo of him getting into yet another plane and you knew you made the right choice.

Your lifestyles were extremely different. Your personalities were compatible, yes, but the way you went about your day to day lives would never line up. At least not while he was racing.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself, though. You liked watching him race.

When you watched from home, your eyes were always on the number 55 Ferrari. You rooted for him, you winced at every near miss, you celebrated his finishes and without fail, you always looked at your phone and thought about congratulating him via text or even a call, only to instantly decide against it.

You weren’t even that big of a Formula 1 fan before you met him, but now this seemed to be as close to him as you’d ever get again.

It didn’t help that he looked good.

Carlos pulled off those red racing overalls. And when they hung low around his hips and the fireproofs clung to his skin, god you wanted to scream at yourself for letting him go. You could have been there, at the races, if you just put a little more effort in. You could have been the one to rip the fireproofs off his body after he got out of the car, because let's face it, after some of the runs he’s had this season, you knew he was probably needing an outlet to release some of that pent up energy and frustration.

You missed running your fingers through his hair. You missed the feeling of his lips tracing every inch of your skin. You missed waking up next to him and seeing your legs tangled together with the sheets. You missed that he was always looking for a reason to touch you, whether it be your wrist or your pinky finger or your back, his hand was always on you.

You missed Carlos.

You loved Carlos.

Which was why your judgement was a little clouded when your friend invited you to Barcelona the weekend of the grand prix, not to watch the race because god knew neither of you could afford tickets, but to visit the clubs she hoped the drivers would be at.

She knew people who knew people and you didn’t ask questions, you just gripped her hand tightly as she led you towards the VIP section of the third club that night. The first one was a bust. The second one you spotted a few people associated with Formula 1, but the third nightclub was the jackpot.

It didn’t take long to spot Charles, celebrating getting a podium after a difficult qualifying session on Saturday. You never actually met Charles but you had heard lots about him, and from the look he gave you across the lounge, you had a feeling he had heard a lot about you too.

With a drink in his hand, he made his way towards you, nodding to himself when he realised that, yes, the girl in front of him was in fact his teammate's ex.

“Does Carlos know you’re here?” Charles asked, dipping his face towards your ear to be heard over the obnoxious music. You shook your head, eyes darting all around him but the Spanish driver was nowhere in sight.

“Is he-” god why were you even asking? You didn’t have a right to. You broke up with him. “Is he here?”

Charles nodded again, standing up straight to look around the crowded room full of bodies dancing and mingling. A chuckle passed his lips as his eyes widened momentarily, “Looks like he’s a little busy though.”

You turned on your heels. It took a second for you to understand what Charles was talking about.

But then you saw it.

A girl, who very much resembled you, height wise and hair wise, had her arms wrapped around Carlos’ neck as she held their bodies together, letting the music flow through them as they danced together.

You hated the way he was staring at her, like he was thinking about all of the ways he was going to devour her.

And unlike Carlos, you did not let your feelings sit. You reacted to everything. Out of anger, spite, jealousy, you never took a second to think about your actions or the potential consequences before doing anything.

So before you even processed how horrible of an idea this was, you walked across the club, the music fading into the background as you only heard a high pitched ringing in your ears. Carlos paid no attention to you, he had no idea you were even there until you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand off the waist of your lookalike.

She scoffed at you and shot a quick glance towards Carlos, “Cuál es su problema?” What’s your problem?

“You,” You shot back, not giving her any chance of a rebuttal before you pulled Carlos away from her and the dance floor. He called your name, trying to get your attention as you navigated your way to the bathrooms. He was much stronger than you, so he could have pulled your hand off of him if he really wanted to, but he let you drag him into the single user washroom without much of a fight.

It wasn’t until you locked the door behind him and stood only inches apart did it sink in what you just did.

Your heart was racing as you stared up at Carlos. You took in his stern features, the way his eyebrows pinched together as he waited for an explanation, the way he crossed his arms over his chest.

This was very reminiscent of the night you met, only when you met in the club you pulled him into the backseat of a car and he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he was purposely keeping the distance and he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.

He must have known you didn’t have any words because he cleared his throat and eyed you once over, “What the fuck was that?”

What the hell could you say? That was me pulling you off some stupid look alike because even though I broke up with you, I don’t want to see you with anyone else?

That would be the truth. The reasonable thing to respond with because after pulling him away from his date, you probably at least owed him some honesty.

But again, you were someone who reacted.

“What?” You scoffed, arm flailing to the side. “You think you can come back to Spain for the first time in months and not say a single fucking thing to me? Weren’t you the one who said your home was in Madrid? People talk, Carlos, you haven’t been home since the day-”

“Since the day you left,” he interrupted, knowing damn well you were trying to say he hadn’t been back home since he left for the season even though you both knew there was a deeper reasoning as to why.

Carlos shook his head. His usually loving stare was cold and intimidating, he wasn’t going to let you put the blame on him for anything that had occurred.

“I haven’t been back to Madrid since that day you walked out on me,” Carlos repeated himself, putting heavy emphasis on the reminder that you were the one that left him. “I hope you understand, but I haven’t really been in any sort of rush to go back.”

Why would he want to go back home knowing you wouldn’t be there when he returned? Why would he go back to the one place he knew you’d be, but would still inevitably be just out of his reach? So close yet so fucking far.

He wasn’t going to put himself through that, through knowing you’d be in the same city but not being able to touch you. It was easier to find other places to stay between races.

And you did understand that. It may not have sunk in right away, but it made sense now. You couldn’t see it through the tv screen, you couldn’t get a read on him when you were watching him race from miles and miles away. But you saw it now.

Carlos hadn’t moved on either.

He took a breath as he leaned back against the door. You didn’t like the defensive stance he was relying on. With his arms over his chest all you wanted was to step forward and take his hands in yours. You hated the space between your bodies.

But you were broken up. You both had to accept that, as hard as it was, and that was your doing.

Except you still didn’t want to see him with someone else.

“So who was she?” You asked, drifting the topic of conversation back to the girl from the dance floor.

“You don’t really have a right to ask.”

“It’s not a crime to be curious.”

Carlos clenched his jaw as he averted his gaze for a second. He rubbed his palm over his chin and shrugged, giving in to your question because he always did struggle to say no to you, “I don’t know, honestly. I met her ten minutes ago at the bar.”

“Sounds familiar,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to when you first met.

“We met on the dance floor,” Carlos pointed out.

“I was on the dance floor. You were at the bar.”

“We were both on the dance floor,” he repeated, sounding more sure of himself the second time.

His eyes dropped, taking in your outfit of choice for the first time since you’ve been in the enclosed space and when the corner of his lips curved upwards, just for a second, you felt your heart skip a beat just like it did the first night you met.

“You were wearing that same skirt too,” he said and you automatically looked down at the black leather skirt you currently had on.

“Was not,” you scoffed, but to be fair, you had absolutely no idea what you had on that night.

Carlos chuckled, ignoring your childish rebuttal. “That skirt and a white top and I know it was white because I remember watching you spill your drink all over the front of it and you said-”

“I need an excuse to take it off anyway,” you finished for him, flashes of that night appeared in your mind. For so long, you only remembered how Carlos made you feel when you first met that none of the other details mattered.

But he remembered everything.

“You ordered gin and tonics all night,” Carlos continued, studying your face as your features softened with each additional memory. “Your friends tried to pull you away from me when we were on the dance floor and you didn’t let them. When I introduced myself, you had no idea who I was and when we finally stepped outside to leave the club, you looked at me with those big eyes of yours and you-”

He stopped midway and inhaled a faint breath, you both did actually. His was due to reliving the night you first met and yours was due to the fact that Carlos stepped forward finally, raising his fingers to your chin to tilt your face upwards.

You leaned into his touch, stepping forward yourself to trace your hand over the shirt he wore as he finished his final thought.

“You looked up at me and you told me I looked like someone you could fall in love with.”

Alarms went off. You wanted to run again. You didn’t want to have this conversation again. Once was enough.

“I don’t- I don’t remember that,” you stammered out.

“Because you were drinking gin and tonics all night,” Carlos said again, this time with a hint of a smile. “I also don’t even think you meant to say it, you changed the topic immediately afterwards.”

“You could just be making this shit up,” you pointed out, not wanting to accept the fact that you knew Carlos would be someone you would love since that first night.

“I could be,” he nodded in agreement, fingers still holding onto your jaw. He stared at you the way he used to. With such adoration and desire. What used to be lust melted into something so much stronger and it hadn’t faded even if months passed. “But unlike you, I don’t lie.”

Your eyebrows pinched together, “When have I ever lied to you?”

“The day you left,” there was another hit to the chest as you anticipated the rest of his sentence. “When you told me you didn’t love me.”

“That wasn’t a lie,” your words tasted like acid on your tongue.

His hand fell from your face and he laughed. The sort of laugh that had your stomach turning in knots because there was nothing humorous about this situation you had now found yourselves in for the second time in four months.

“I know you,” Carlos said. “And I know there’s no possible way that I am the only one that feels so strongly it hurts. I know you love me because I feel it. I always have. In the way you touch me, in the way you run your hands through my hair, in the way you used to wake me up in the morning by kissing me until I finally opened my eyes. I know you love me because I see it in everything you do. In the way you look at me, the way your eyes always found mine if we were in a crowded room and I could see the breath of relief you’d take because as long as we saw each other, the world was calm. I saw it when you started leaving your clothes at my place, when you started going grocery shopping for us instead of just you and I saw how it broke you to walk out on me that day. It wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t love me.”

With your hand still gripping onto his shirt, your lower lip trembled as you tried to find something to say in response. Every single word that came out of his mouth was true. He knew you better than you knew yourself and he probably knew long before you did that you loved him.

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the wrinkles on his shirt and the white button you played with under your thumb, “You know that phrase, if you love something, set it free?”

“And if it comes back, it's yours,” Carlos added on, stepping closer as he raised his hand to the side of your face, his fingers twisting through your hair. “I’m here, hermosa. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. You forced yourself to, thinking that the humorous breath of air protruding from your lips might make the rest of this conversation easier.

It didn’t.

“Carlos I can’t keep setting you free every time there’s a race,” you said, your voice timid. “I can’t. If I’m going to love you I’m going to do it with every bone in my body, with every fibre of my being and I can’t do that if you’re gone for eight months of the year. I need you in my life, with me, by my side, not on a tv screen, not all around the world.”

What you were asking for was selfish, you knew this. You knew that, essentially, you were putting Carlos in a position where he had to choose. He had to choose between you and racing and that wasn’t a fair spot for him to be in. You knew this.

Which is why you chose for him.

Four months ago you chose for him, and you were doing it again now.

You briefly glanced up to meet his eyes, trying to move past the way you were melting at the feeling of his hands in your hair.

“I shouldn’t have come to Barcelona, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, hands falling to your side. Without so much as a second look, you stepped past the driver and reached for the door handle.

Carlos didn’t let you walk out on him this time.

He grabbed your wrist and spun you back around so fast that you didn’t have a second to breathe before his lips were on yours. Furiously and passionately like he was making up for all of these months without you. His tongue dove into your mouth as you slid your hand around the back of his neck, holding his face to yours because even though you knew this was a terrible idea, that you were broken up, there was no better feeling in the world than kissing Carlos Sainz Jr.

Neither of you were sure who started undressing first. It didn’t matter. Buttons went flying, your skirt got hiked up around your waist and when Carlos hoisted you up to place you on top of the sink, you had a momentary lapse of judgement and asked yourself why you broke up with him in the first place.

“I miss you,” Carlos muttered against your lips as you inhaled a sharp breath when he pushed your panties aside, the pads of his fingers traced over your folds. “I missed this.”

“Carlos-”

“Missed how wet you got for me,” Carlos ignored whatever plea was about to fall from your lips as he pressed his mouth to the crook of your neck.

You were putty in his hands, quite literally. There was nothing but quiet whimpers and strangled moans from you as he slid two fingers past your folds, both of you forgetting that your conversation ended with you trying to walk out on him.

His thumb traced over your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to have you arching your back as you sat perched on the edge of the counter. You felt him smirk against your skin right when he picked up the pace of his digits, curling them against your walls, so deep inside you.

You dragged your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep his lips on that spot just below your ear as your head fell backward. Carlos kept you upright, he supported you, he knew how helpless you were during times like these and he lived for it.

Four months ago you would have never thought that walking out on Carlos Sainz Jr. would lead you to being finger fucked by him in the bathroom of a Barcelona club.

He lifted his head, replacing his lips on your throat with his free hand and forcing you to look at him. You recognised the lustful stare, only growing darker as he alternated between lightly tracing your most sensitive nub and pinching it between his forefinger and thumb until your legs quivered beneath you.

Carlos attached his mouth to yours, biting down and tugging on your lower lip, the sharp pain only added to the pleasure coursing through your body. He thrusted his fingers into you with such force it had you yanking on his dark hair so hard Carlos hissed through his teeth.

“Cum for me,” Carlos’ groan was masked with a demand. One you had no possibility of ignoring as your body reacted to him and his words. With his fingers so deep inside you, Carlos worked you through your release, slowing but not stopping as you dropped your head to his shoulder, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.

When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, you weren’t surprised when he brought them up to his lips. There was a perfectly fine sink right in front of him but Carlos would never waste an opportunity to taste you.

He then cupped your chin, his gaze softened but you could still make out the mischievous glint. This night wasn’t over.

“Let’s get out of here.”

That’s all it took. Those five little words. The one request and you had forgotten every logical decision that had led you up to this moment. He helped you off the counter, kissing you once more before you had to leave the privacy of the bathroom and before long you found yourself walking the same route as the first night you met.

Past the dance floor, sending your friend an assuring smile, silently telling her everything was fine. Carlos led the way at first, you kept a safe distance behind him and when you walked outside there was already a car waiting out front. You climbed into the backseat alongside him, ignoring the flashes from paparazzi and the call from them asking if Carlos was back together with his ex.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. From the ride to the elevator to the hallway until finally he dragged you into his hotel room, or maybe you dragged him once the door opened, you were both desperate for the other at this point.

It was hard to think rationally. In the back of your head you knew you’d have to leave in the morning before you found yourself clinging to him the way you used to, but you just wanted to enjoy the time you had now. You wanted to hold onto every beautiful sound that came from the back of his throat, each kiss he pressed to your skin, the sound of your name escaping his lips because no one would ever say your name that way he did.

You loved him.

You loved the way he knew your body better than you did. How he had you desperate for a release in a matter of minutes, and only giving in when you begged for it. You loved the way he stretched you out, needing a second to inhale a quick breath as he slid his cock into you with little warning, deciding you were wet enough already after making you cum once in the bathroom and again on the edge of his bed with just his tongue.

You were used to his size, you had spent enough time in bed with him to know what to expect tonight but after four months your mouth still fell open and he swallowed all of your moans by pressing his lips to yours and taking all of your air out of your lungs.

Carlos wasn’t patient. Why would he be? After months without you he didn’t feel the need to wait. He found a steady pace but within minutes he had picked up his speed and hiked one of your legs up around his waist.

That position turned into another which turned into a third and at one point during the night Carlos had you sit on top of him, staring at your own reflection in the mirror as you bounced on his cock, listening to his encouraging words and his praise while his fingers made for a beautiful necklace on your throat.

He cherished you, treating you like royalty on his sheets as you both carried the same thought, both of you knowing that you wouldn’t stay past the morning. As much as you wanted to forget that you broke up with him and as much as he wanted to pretend that you were still his, there was no denying your relationship was over.

You loved each other, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the distance and the lost time during races and the anxiety of not being able to come home to each other at the end of the day. You loved each other, truly, but it was never enough.

Which was why when morning came, you climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb him after getting very minimal hours of sleep. You slid on the clothes you had discarded all over his room and decided that leaving without a second look would be easiest.

You had just cracked the door open when Carlos stirred in the blankets behind you. You had no choice but to turn around, to look at what you were walking away from for the second time.

He sat up in bed, the sheets draped over his lower half and his hair unruly and sexy and almost enough to make you crawl right back in next to him.

He saw that you had redressed yourself, made yourself as presentable as you could wearing the clothes from last night. He didn’t have to ask where you were going, he just nodded to himself and let out a breath of acceptance.

You were never going to stay.

“I’m sorry,” you said, but those two little words were not the words he was hoping to hear during his short time with you.

“No you’re not,” Carlos shook his head. He looked away from you for a second, his tongue poking out to moisten his lips. He was asking himself if last night was a mistake. It probably was.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

“You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want.”

“I’m leaving because it’s what’s best for both of us, Carlos.” You sighed, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door. “I can’t live the life you want me to live and I’m not going to ask you to give anything up for me. We’re at a crossroad here.”

Carlos dragged his line of sight back towards you, “Even though I love you? That doesn’t make any difference?”

It makes things harder.

You shook your head, repeating that you were sorry one more time and letting the last image of Carlos be of him dropping his head back down to the pillow before you turned around and walked out of his life once again.

August 17 2023

You practically ran to the receptionist, slamming your hands against the desk, “Carlos Sainz Jr., is he- is he here? What room is he in? Is he okay? God please tell me he’s okay-”

“Ma’am, I need you to take a breath,” the nurse was calm, she had been through this hundreds of times. Dealing with the frantic loved ones of a patient. She stood up, hand outstretched to rest over yours as she pushed the box of tissues closer to you. You grabbed one and dabbed the corner of your eyes, having been imagining the worst the entire drive over and unable to stop crying.

You didn’t even have time to question why you were still his emergency contact. You had no idea how your name and number came up in the conversation and it pained you to think that when the paramedics brought him to the hospital, the only phone number he could think to mutter was yours.

“Is he okay?” You repeated after a deep inhale. “I need to know he’s okay. The lady on the phone earlier wouldn’t tell me anything, she just said there was an accident.”

“Carlos Sainz?” The nurse asked, looking at her screen as she sat back on down. She typed on the keyboard, muttering a few things to herself until his file popped up. “He’s undergoing surgery right now, should be done soon though.”

“Surgery for what?” You asked, desperate to get information. “Is he going to be okay? He’s a racecar driver, can he still drive? Is it life threatening-”

The nurse seemed to crack a smile, “I’m familiar with his occupation, Miss. Unfortunately I am not able to give you any more information on his condition.”

You couldn’t tell if the whole confidentiality act was because of his fame or because she really had no idea how he was doing. Regardless, the not knowing stressed you out beyond relief and you tried for a few more minutes, pestering for answers, until finally she told you that the only option for you was to sit and wait.

So you did. Foot tapping against the tiled floor. You thought about calling his parents or his sister but last you saw from social media, his sister was somewhere in Greece and you had absolutely no way of contacting his parents as you weren’t with Carlos long enough to get their contact information.

It was just you in the hospital waiting room, nervously watching the minute hand on the clock go around way too damn slow. Every time a doctor or another nurse entered the room, your heart dropped in anticipation, but none of them were there to keep you informed.

Twenty minutes went by with no news, and in hindsight, that really wasn’t that long of a waiting period. But it felt like an eternity, not knowing. Left drawing your own conclusions, your own terrible scenarios.

When a doctor did finally emerge from the swinging doors, he stared down at his clipboard before approaching the nurse behind the reception desk. You watched them interact, of course you did, you needed to know if he was Carlos’ doctor.

When he walked over to you, a tight smile on his lips, you stood up instantly.

“You must be here for Carlos,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake with not nearly enough strength you wished you had. “I’m Dr. Alejo.”

“Hi,” You tried to glance at the clipboard tucked under his arm but you wouldn’t understand anything anyway. “Is he-”

Dr. Alejo nodded and you felt as though you could breathe when his smile grew even just the slightest bit.

“He’s fine,” He assured you. “A few broken ribs that will heal on their own, a fracture of his left wrist that required surgery and some severe bruising along his abdomen, but no internal bleeding to be concerned about. He’s okay.” Dr. Alejo scratched his jaw, “Might not be able to finish the season, but I think he’s just happy to be able to walk away from this accident.”

He nodded his head towards the doors that separated the patients from the waiting room, leading you through them and down the hall as he flipped through the papers on the clipboard.

“It was a car accident?” You asked. “How? What even happened?” It was hard to believe that a professional racing driver would get into something so mundane as a car accident. During the break of the Formula 1 season.

“I believe the other driver was distracted,” Dr. Alejo answered. “I don’t have much more information than that as he wasn’t my patient, but he’s also okay. I think still in surgery, but both drivers are extremely fortunate in this scenario.”

He stopped in front of a room where the door was slightly ajar. Carlos’ name was written on the board outside of it and you asked for permission before going inside. The doctor nodded and allowed you in by yourself, instructing you to be gentle as he had just come from surgery.

You walked in, not prepared for the sight of Carlos on the bed with IV tubes sticking out of his wrist. His entire rib cage and abdomen was bandaged up and you could see hints of bruising on his legs and arms, aside from where the cast on his left wrist was covering them. There were minor marks on his face as well, cuts from the broken windshield, more bruising, everything that made you ache for him.

His eyes were closed so he didn’t see you slowly make your way to his bedside, sitting on the side that seemed to have less injury. You scanned over him, taking in the damages to his body and you didn’t think twice before raising your hand to brush a few strands of hair off his forehead.

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, not since you left his hotel room.

Part of you expected that you’d run into each again, you’d always been drawn to Carlos, but you never would have imagined this.

You didn’t even know he was home.

Hesitantly, you took his hand in yours, thumb tracing over the few inches of skin that weren’t littered with dark bruises. You felt his fingers twitch in your grasp and you glanced up in time to see his eyelids flutter open.

“Hi,” you whispered, expecting to have to explain yourself. Carlos most definitely did not expect to get into any sort of accident today, let alone see his ex-girlfriend who walked out on him twice. Obviously there was some explaining to do.

But he only turned his palm upwards to interlock your fingers together, careful of the IV tubing. He tried to shift on the bed, only to grimace in pain and you inhaled a breath, worried for him.

“Just-” you swallowed, fighting the urge to put your hand to his chest like you would normally do if you just wanted him to sit. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Carlos nodded, glancing down at your hands and then at the cast on his wrist and then sighing with deep despair as he took in the bandages wrapped around his body.

“Not like I had a shot at the championship anyway,” he joked, already thinking about the last half of the season.

You didn’t want to laugh. Nothing about him sitting in a hospital bed was funny, but it was no surprise he was thinking about Formula 1. He was a driver, racing was in his blood.

So you just cracked a hint of a smile and tried to change the topic to something else, something more pressing.

“I didn’t know you were back in Madrid.”

Carlos paused, “I just got in today.”

Your brows pinched together, “What do you mean? Didn’t your break start two weeks ago?”

“I was in Italy, for a bit,” he told you, his thumb brushing over yours. “But I didn’t want to be there. All I wanted was to come home. All I wanted was to see you.”

Your heart sank deep into your chest, “Don’t tell me you got into a car accident when you were on the way to my place.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

“Carlos,” You wanted to scold him, really. You had broken up, he didn’t need to come see you. If he had just stayed in Italy, if he hadn’t decided he needed to see you, he’d be fine and not laying with limited motion in a hospital bed. You were the reason he ended up here.

He always said you’d be the death of him.

“I love you,” Carlos said, sounding more sure of his own words than he ever had before. “I love you, and I don’t care if you walk out on me every time I say it because I’m just going to follow you. I made a mistake the first time, letting you leave. I made it again in Barcelona and I’m not doing that anymore, I’m not going anywhere, hermosa and if I do, I’ll always come home to you.”

You had thought you were all cried out, having tears stream down your face the entire drive to the hospital as you thought about your relationship with Carlos. The good, the bad, everything in between. You cried thinking you’d never get a chance to create another memory with him. You were distraught, wanting to scream into the abyss because even if you weren’t with Carlos, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

You loved him.

You always had. You always will.

And you weren’t going to go another second with him thinking his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

A single tear fell down your cheek as you locked eyes with him, the only person in your life you would ever give your heart to and know, without doubt, that he would give his back in return.

“I love you,” you finally told him, the biggest weight lifted off your chest, one that had been dragging you down for months. “I love you, Carlos, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did. I'm sorry it took this for me to tell you. I'm so sorry, I love you, I love you-”

You moved closer to him, dropping your head to rest against his after you kissed his temple, quietly repeating that you loved him over and over again. You placed your hand against his cheek, holding Carlos against you and he covered your hand with his, not wanting to let go.

He’d let you go one two many times and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

And you wouldn’t give him a reason to.

#carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #cs55 #carlos sainz smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #carlos sainz jr smut

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drunk-on-dk · 2 years

Text

His Hoodie | Choi Seungcheol (m)

✦pairing: college!Seungcheol x fem!reader

✦genre: smut (minors DNI), some fluff and angst maybe?

✦wc: 4.8k

✦summary: Seungcheol's fashion was something you took note of daily, so why did his glasses drive you absolutely mad?

NSFW warnings under the cut, minors do not read, 18+ only

✦warnings: frat boy Seungcheol; nervous reader; no specific pronouns used, but reader has female anatomy; pet names (baby); seungcheol is a bit degrading; dom!Seungcheol; switch!reader; unprotected sex (big no no, pls be safe with your partners); fingering; oral (female receiving); creampie; choking a bit; oh god please tell me if I missed anything.

✦a/n: this was birthed from the absolute brain rot of Seungcheol's vlive with Jeonghan... im so sorry for this, i will rot in hell for going crazy over a man in glasses ik it... please enjoy (this is not necessarily proofread, i shall get to that tomorrow)

The day Seungcheol walked into the lecture with those wire-framed glasses on, you had to do a double-take of the boy. His usual street style was substituted for a softer look today. A simple graphic tee, worn jeans, and glasses you’ve never seen him wear before framed his features so nicely. You’d never admit it to him, but you closely took note of Seungcheol’s outfits every time you saw him, and seeing him dressed so soft and casual like this was almost a breath of fresh air. This look was a new one that you’d archive with the rest of his outfits that sat in the back of your mind.

Seungcheol and you were friends, close enough at least to comfortably fall into conversation about things further than surface level conversation starters each class. A little bit of flirty banter here and there as well, as he was fun to get worked up.

You hung around Seungcheol’s frat quite often, being closer friends with some of his fellow brothers than you were with him. Of course, since he ran in the same circle, you were inevitably introduced to him, and the frequency that you came by and hung out with them almost warranted you a spot in the frat yourself. So much so that Vernon had to set a curfew on how late you could stay after parties, informing you that you were picking up on their mannerisms too much and that you should really save yourself while you can. That didn’t last long of course, typically spending the night on Vernon’s futon, Wonwoo’s couch, or in Mingyu’s bed (he’d only carried you there for comfort and he’d sleep on the floor, of course).

Otherwise, you’ve expressed interest in Seungcheol’s clothing before, typically finding yourself wandering into his room late at night when the temperatures would drop after day drinking to snatch an overpriced sweatshirt from his collection. At first, he’d whine and pout, cherry red lips mumbling out that you shouldn’t steal his clothes without his permission. Now, he doesn’t even falter when he sees you wearing his stuff, only occasionally mumbling that you better not spill your drink on yourself or his sweatshirt, steadying you whenever he’d see you stumble.

Seungcheol always looked cool, darker colors and baggy clothes making up half his wardrobe, and you admired that about him. Even when his hair would be a mess from rolling out of bed, an expensive beanie would smooth down his ratty mane. But this, this look was new to you, not that his designer t-shirt strayed from his usual styles, nor did his trendy baggy jeans, but the glasses that sat so nicely on his nose made your cheeks warm after staring for too long. Admittedly, you always thought Seungcheol was cute, but these made him impossibly cuter. Honestly, your fascination with Seungcheol’s style was more so a front for your true feelings for him.

Seungcheol sat down next to you with a huff, pulling his books out of his bag and only peering up at you upon noticing you were watching him closely. Accusatorily, he asks with a jerk of his chin, “what are you looking at? What’s up with you today?”

Snapping back into reality and diverting your attention away from him, you began shuffling with your notebook. Upon flipping to the most recent page of notes, you avoid his question and ask, “since when have you started wearing glasses?”

“These?” Seungcheol asks, readjusting the frames and you peak over to see him struggling to find a comfortable spot for them. “Soonyoung knocked my monthly contacts into the toilet the other night, and my next prescription is delayed.”

“Ah,” you hum, nodding slowly as you look over at him once more, eyes meeting his fleetingly and quickly turning your attention away.

Unbeknownst to you, this made Seungcheol feel extremely insecure, tugging on your arm slightly and calling out, “hey, what’s with that reaction? Do I look stupid in these? Please tell me if I do, Y/N. See, this is why I don’t wear-”

You’re quick to cut him off upon realizing you sent him into a spiral, wide eyes staring into his again as you hurriedly explain yourself, “no, they look good on you, seriously. I’ve just never seen you wear those before.”

He’s back to being smug again, arms crossing over his chest and leaning back into his chair, dimples shadowing his cheeks upon a small smile appearing on his lips. “So, you’re telling me you like them on me?”

This time you pull on his arm and roll your eyes, “shut up, Seungcheol, I won’t hesitate to rip those glasses right off your face and toss them right in the trash.” You refocus your attention on your professor who just entered the room, ignoring the slight chuckle from Seungcheol, and trying to hide the blush that hasn’t left your cheeks since you first saw him.

Oddly enough, you felt irrationally tense the whole class, your nerves never settling even when Seungcheol pointed out your leg was bouncing at an alarming pace. You felt your ears heat up when his knee bumped yours, a quiet whisper asking if you were okay and soft eyes peeking over your shoulder.

No, you were not okay, you thought to yourself, knowing something was terribly wrong with your brain and hormones when your heart raced from the way Seungcheol peered over his glasses at you.

Part of you was panicking at the suppressed feelings bubbling up inside of you, hating how this side of Seungcheol struck a chord inside of you, his mini act of insecurity earlier making you wish you could just lean over and let him know that he’d look good in anything he’d wear.

By the time class was dismissed, Seungcheol had to wave a hand in front of your vision, chuckling as he informed you that class was over. “Earth to, Y/N? Wanna walk back to the house with me? I’m assuming you’re getting dinner with Vernon before the party tonight?”

You’re stuttering out a lie before you can even think straight, shaking your head profusely, “actually, Vernon and I aren’t getting dinner tonight, so you can just head back without me.”

You see Seungcheol slightly pout, a slightly confused and concerned expression gracing his features. “But you always get dinner with Vernon on Fridays.”

“Yeah, well,” God damn it he’s so cute, you can’t even think straight when he has that pout on his face. You’re ready to tear the glasses off his face as well. “I had to rain check today, promised I’d meet a friend at the cafeteria instead.”

“What friend? I could walk with you to the cafeteria and then head back.”

You’re frustrated by how inquisitive Seungcheol is, annoyed that you were even lying to him in the first place, but he was just making you so damn nervous that you wouldn’t dare to walk the distance to the frat house with him. You’re quick to start packing your stuff up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and holding a hand out to stop him from following you, “don’t be so nosy, I’ll see you later tonight at the party.”

You briskly stalk out of the classroom, being sure to head in the direction of the cafeteria before coming to a halting stop in a safe corner. Hastily, you text Vernon to cancel your dinner plans for the night, letting him know you’ll explain the last-minute cancellation later. It amazed you that Seungcheol knew your schedule so well. Usually, he had plans of his own after class, typically never walking back with you to the frat house, and you never mentioned your dinner tradition with Vernon to him before.

That night at the party you avoided Seungcheol at all costs. Vernon knew something weird was up with you when he found you gnawing on your straw in the corner of the room. His eyes followed your gaze that was narrowed in on Seungcheol chatting with a girl on the opposite side of the room, his fingers timidly readjusting his glasses as he laughed at something the girl said. He could see the way you held your red solo cup a little firmer, the plastic crinkling in your grasp. Vernon was smart enough to understand what was going on with you, but he refrained from saying anything. He always had an inkling that you liked Seungcheol, and he wanted you to organically come to that conclusion yourself. It wasn’t like Vernon to interject anyways.

However, Vernon could also see what you couldn’t. He’d notice the way Seungcheol’s eyes would roam the room in search of you, noting the disappointment when you’d disappear from his sight. All Vernon could do is sip on his drink and shake his head at the way you both seemed oblivious.

This went on for a week or so more, even going to the extent to avoid him in his own house. You were honestly freaked out by the sudden onslaught of feelings you had for him. You hated the way your heart pounded each time you saw him. The glasses no longer being the root cause for your racing heart, but the way his chuckle sounded from down the hall, his gummy smile when he’d spot you across the room, and even the way he’d scold you in class for ignoring him made your stomach flutter.

Seungcheol finally cornered you one night, grabbing ahold of your wrist as you tried to quietly pad down the halls of the frat house. You were crashing on Vernon’s futon again, only venturing out in hopes to hunt down a bottle of fresh water or a miraculously filled Brita somewhere in the kitchen. You almost screamed in terror until you realized it was just Seungcheol, his hand still covering your mouth as an extra measure when he yanked you into his room.

Seungcheol sat you on his bed much to your dismay, closing his bedroom door behind him as he stared down at you, arms crossed and eyes squinting through his wireframed glasses. He continued to survey you, tongue poking at his cheek as he leaned over to catch your attention when you focused your sight down at your fingers that nervously picked at a hangnail.

“Seriously, Y/N, what has been up with you,” he finally whines, clearly exasperated by your recent behavior, “you won’t even give me the time of day lately. You haven’t stolen one of my damn sweatshirts in a month. Did I do something wrong?”

Your mouth opens slightly, hands falling to your sides as you were unsure of how to explain yourself. You knew it was unfair how you were treating your friend, but you’d only recently come to terms with your feelings for him. How could you admit to him that those stupid glasses of his made something in you click? How could you tell him it was wrong to steal his sweatshirt when you found comfort in his scent and the fact that it was his?

You must have been taking too long, Seungcheol noticing the slight way you shivered, finally taking in your appearance. You were in one of Vernon’s shirts, the oversized tee almost swallowing you whole, your tiny little night shorts peeking out slightly from under the hem of the shirt. With a huff, Seungcheol pulled the sweatshirt off his own body and tossed it into your lap. This was not only because you looked cold, but also for his own sanity. Before you could protest, Seungcheol was quick to cut you off, “just take the damn sweatshirt. You look freezing, and I can’t have you walking around in those tiny little shorts.”

This is what grabbed your attention, hands gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt as you finally peered up at him. You narrowed your eyes at him this time, noticing how his cheeks were slightly blushed, unsure if it was from his frustration with your behavior, or if you could possibly have the same effect on him as he did with you.

However, returning to some sense of normalcy, you bit back at him, “you can’t tell me what to wear, Seungcheol. I’ll walk downstairs in these tiny little shorts just because you said I can’t.”

This seemed to fire him up back up, stepping closer towards you and tilting his chin up. You found yourself standing up, discarding his sweatshirt on the bed as you tried to assert some dominance yourself. He almost made you falter at the way he peered at you from under his glasses, but this time it only made you more frustrated.

You finally broke, the way Seungcheol stared at you as he breathed deeply through his nostrils made you act irrationally, ripping his glasses right off his face and placing them on his nightstand. “If I can’t wear my shorts, then you can’t wear these damn glasses.”

He laughed incredulously at this, “are you serious, Y/N? I can’t see without those, that’s not even fair.”

“Good,” you spit out, pivoting on your heel to head straight for his door, “then you won’t be able to see me walk out.”

Seungcheol did not like this one-bit, sturdy arm wrapping around your waist as he seethed, infuriated by how stubborn you were being and just wanted to get a normal conversation out of you. Keeping you in his grasp, he leaned over to grab his glasses from the nightstand, forcibly turning you around to face him.

You didn’t fight him at this point, feeling exhausted and crumbling at the way Seungcheol’s arm felt like a ring of fire around your waist. His large hand that was splayed across your lower back had goosebumps arising on your sensitive skin. Your lower stomach fluttered at the way his thumb slightly rubbed over the curve of your spine, heat spreading throughout your body as you attempted to say something.

Seungcheol doesn’t necessarily soften, but he doesn’t seem so annoyed anymore. He studies you again, a lightbulb going off in his head before he speaks, “by any chance, do these glasses affect you potentially the same way those little shorts affect me?”

You feel impossibly hot after his question, hoping that the dim lighting of his room prevents him from noticing how your cheeks warm even more. You let him pull you in closer, your torso pressing into his as he attempts to test the waters of your relationship. The hand that isn’t wrapped around you makes it up to your jaw, calloused fingers wrapping around your delicate neck as he stares into you.

“If your pulse says anything, I’d believe you were attracted to me,” his voice is lower now, mockingly whispering closer to your lips as you struggle to utter out a word, your lungs working overtime from the way his touch was affecting you.

His grip on your neck tightens slightly, your chin angling up towards him so that he can stare directly into your eyes. His lips were painfully close to yours, making your lips tingle in anticipation.

“Fuck,” you finally choke out, your lips brushing Seungcheol’s slightly before he uses his grasp on your jaw to keep you at a safe distance. “I need you to kiss me, Seungcheol.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask, baby,” Seungcheol is smug, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours. It’s messy and hard, both of you immediately fighting for dominance as you lock lips. The hand that gripped your jaw has now traveled to the back of your neck, using this to his advantage as he controls the pace. His other hand on your back trails to your ass, massaging the plump mound as the kiss quickly heats up, your own hands roaming his firm chest.

You buck your hips into Seungcheol’s at his touch, earning a groan from him as he nibbles at your lip, tongue slipping past your lips as you let out a moan yourself. Seungcheol finds himself pulling you with him as he backs up towards his bed, never breaking his lips from yours as he sits down on the plush surface, pulling you atop his lap to straddle him.

Seungcheol wouldn’t dare to let you go now, only pulling away when he begins to feel overwhelmed by the way your hips roll against his, needing to regain some dominance as you grind against his growing erection.

This proved to be a mistake though, your lips immediately reattaching to his neck as he grips your hips in hopes to slow down the way you rock against him. He can feel your breasts through the thin fabric of the tee, the feeling of your firm nipples making him dizzy as he attempts to come to his senses.

“Fuck, you’re so needy, baby,” he growls out, flipping you over onto the bed with ease. You gasp at his strength, hips keening up towards him as he pushes a hand against you lower abdomen to keep your hips from chasing his, another hand finding purchase around your throat again.

His hand that was once on your abdomen has now traced its way to the wet spot on your night shorts. His fingers press at your heat, the pressure on your clit making you gasp out, neck straining in Seungcheol’s gasp as you arch into his touch. He coos mockingly at you, “does that feel good, baby? I love the way your pulse quickens under my touch too, and how fucking hot and wet you are already.”

You feel breathless at the way his fingers rub firmly over the fabric that covers your cunt, hands gripping at the arm of the hand that is wrapped around your neck. You could breathe perfectly fine, but you needed to hold onto something, preferably him.

“Seungcheol,” you breathe out between baited breaths, “n-need your fingers, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he hums, pulling your shorts off in one go, and exposing your bare pussy to the cool air of his room. You can tell he notices the way your heart rate picks up, his thumb pressed firmly against your pulse as he breathes deeply at the way your legs spread for him. “Such a dirty baby, wearing just these shorts without any underwear beneath them… one would think you’re trying to get with Vernon if I didn’t have you right here in my grip.”

“Pl-please, touch me,” you’d be wailing if it wasn’t for the firm grip he had on your neck, finally releasing you to hold his weight over you as he experimentally rolled thumb over your swollen clit, the way you grinded against his bulge almost driving you over the edge earlier.

You jerk from just the slightest touch, his lips connecting with your neck as he continues to circle his thumb over your clit. A single finger of his slips in between your folds as he collects some of your essence before slipping another finger in. You’re moaning from the way his fingers curl into you, hands tangling into his hair as he suckles at your neck, whispering dirty things into your skin as he picks up his pace fingering into you.

You almost lose it when he looks up at you, lips swollen from being pressed so firmly against your neck, glasses slightly fogged from his hot breath, and burying his face into your neck. Your hips are bucking into his palm as he continues to curl and scissor his fingers inside of your walls, you’re thrashing in his grip as you need more from him, the pleasure continuing to build up in your abdomen. “More, Seungcheol, fuck, I need more.”

“My needy little baby,” he’s chuckling darkly into your neck, contrasting the sweet innocent look of his glasses, the Seungcheol you know resurfacing as he trails his lips down your body. He expertly continues to finger you as his lips pause at your nipples, the hard peaks poking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, and Seungcheol wraps his lips around them, moistening the fabric and running his hot tongue over the nub. He continues to work down your body, teeth nipping at your shirt as he pushes a hand underneath it, raising the fabric over your waist as a hand palms at your breast.

He continues to massage at the peaks, fingers tweaking your nipples as his mouth finally makes it down to your cunt, his tongue darting out to press against your clit. You’re pathetic in his hold, your hands only working to push his face deeper into your heat as he licks at your pussy, fingers still mercilessly working you towards your release.

What drives you over the edge is the way he looks up at you from under his glasses, your vision becoming hazy as your orgasm washes over you. He mutters how much of a dirty, needy baby you are directly into your cunt, your juices covering his chin and glasses foggy as his tongue coaxes you through your release.

You flinch at the way he quickly pulls his fingers from in between your walls, shocked by the way he easily manhandles you when pulling you up to a sitting position. He’s tearing his glasses off at this point, tossing them to the opposite end of the bed as he’s pulling your shirt off your body. He needs to be as close to you as he can possibly be, no longer allowing the pesky frames to keep him from pressing his face in between your breasts as he nibbles on the sensitive skin.

“You’re so hot,” he’s growling into you, your shaky hands pulling down his sweats as he continues to suckle at your chest, sure to leave bruises on your skin for only him to know tomorrow.

“So are you,” you’re gasping out, hand brushing over his cock, shocked by the shear girth and length as you release him from the confines of his sweats. “Fuck, Seungcheol, you’re huge.”

“Perfect for you then,” he says smugly, pulling away from your chest to pull his shirt off, and you’re falling back onto the bed, hand tracing over the tip of his length to spread precum down the shaft. “Perfect for my needy little baby. Perfect for this needy little pussy.”

He crawls over you, pulling your hands away to run his tip over your soaked folds, tip teasing at your entrance as he gathers your arousal on his length. You’re chasing his hips, trying to encourage him to slip between your walls and fuck you already.

“So needy for you, Cheol,” you’re moaning out when he finally pushes the tip in, hips bucking in an attempt to take him in.

“Still so tight,” he’s groaning, bucking shallowly into you as you hiss from the stretch. One of his hands has found its way around your throat again, loving the way your pulse falters at each shallow thrust, slowly being sucked in by your walls deeper and deeper each time.

Seungcheol loses himself in the way you gasp, hips bottoming out against yours as your warm walls fully take him in. It’s almost painful how pleasurable you feel wrapped around him, the way you grip his length so tightly, teeth seething into your neck as he tries to pull out only to be pulled back in by your throbbing walls.

He’s thankful for how breathless you are, glad you aren’t making too much noise this late at night in the house, hoping that no one else hears the pretty noises you’re making as you adjust to his size.

Seungcheol experimentally grinds into you, hips rolling into yours as you let out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard, “fuck, baby, let me hear that again.”

You’re moaning out even more, his lips reattaching to yours to capture each moan as he begins to thrust in and out of you. His hand is no longer wrapped around your neck, but he swears he can feel your pulse from how tightly your pussy is wrapped around him.

He needs to be deeper in you, needs to feel every inch of you as he grabs one of your legs and pulls it over his shoulder, pounding even deeper into you. He’s swallowing all of your moans, burning the pretty noise into his memory as he loses himself in between your walls.

You’re so flexible, so pliable for him as he continues to thrust in and out of you. He doesn’t need his glasses when you’re this close to him, pulling away from your lips to watch how your mouth parts in pleasure, hair displayed around you like a halo as he fucks you mercilessly.

Seungcheol can feel how your walls flutter around his length, your pussy clenching as he continues to hit you right where he almost has you screaming, but instead you’re biting his shoulder for relief, blubbering nonsense as you cry into him. “Such a good, baby, staying quiet just for me to hear.”

“Seungcheol, can I please cum?” You’re crying out into his shoulder, legs shaking over his shoulders as he repeatedly hits your g-spot.

“Fuck,” he’s choking out, deep voice slightly faltering as you so nicely ask for his permission. He’d won this round, proving to have staked his dominance over you. “Go ahead and cum for me. My needy baby deserves it.”

Your back is arching, the coil inside of you snapping as he grants you permission with one extra hard thrust, arms reaching over your head as you grip the sheets tightly. You’re only egged on upon looking up at him, waves of pleasure shocking you watching as his jaw clenches when he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the pleasure burning through you and making you moan out in pure ecstasy.

The sight of you finishing is enough to make him fall over, burying his face into your neck as his hips begin to stutter into yours. Hot, thick ropes of cum fill you up as he releases from the feeling of your spasming walls. He slowly thrusts into you some more, overstimulating both of you as your pulse slows down, only then pulling his softening length out of you to watch his cum drip from between your folds.

He reaches to pull his glasses back on, watching as the white liquid drips from your hole, and pouting at the sight. You’re still gasping for air, hips rising at the feeling of his cum dripping out of you.

“Shit, baby,” he’s quickly scrambling off the bed, going to grab a clean cloth. “Let me clean you up.”

“Thank you,” you’re whispering appreciatively, letting Seungcheol take care of you as you no longer have an ounce of energy. He finds you absolutely endearing when you ask for what you initially ventured out for, “can I have some water please?”

He chuckles, dimples appearing as he nods, grabbing the flask of cold water from his nightstand and handing it to you. He watches as you gulp it down, looking impossibly cute after the events that just took place, pulling on his sweats to join you back on the bed after you hand him the half-empty water bottle.

Seungcheol can’t help but feel giddy at the way you finally pull on his sweatshirt. The butterflies that erupt in his stomach are not easy to be ignored when you look so beautiful in his clothing.

“Absolutely perfect,” he mumbles out, hands smoothing out your matted hair as you move closer to him. He much prefers his sweatshirt on you than Vernon’s t-shirt. He basks in the way your cheeks glow bright red in the dim lighting of his room, shivering from the way your tiny fingers readjust the glasses on his face.

“Seungcheol,” you mutter hesitantly, and he hums, staring at your endearingly and coaxing you to continue. “These damn glasses are what made me lose my mind over you.”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at you, all the puzzle pieces lining up on how weird you’ve been acting since that one lecture. He nuzzles his nose into yours, “well, let’s thank Soonyoung for flushing my contacts down that toilet then, or maybe it would have taken years to get you to fall for me.”

You snort at that, snuggling into his arms as he pulls you under the covers. “That’s not true, I was already head over heels for you. Just didn’t know it yet.”

Seungcheol hums in delight, letting you remove the glasses from his face to pull him into yet another deep kiss. Seungcheol thinks he can fall asleep like this every night with you in his arms, loving the way you mold to his body and how soft you feel in his hoodie. Seungcheol also loves when you walk into class with his hoodie from the night before, no longer stealing his hoodies, but rather receiving them directly from the owner.

#svthub #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #choi seungcheol smut #scoups brain rot is real

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loviatarsluv · 23 days

Note

Request!

I posted details here, it’s for Gale!

https://www.tumblr.com/cherifrog/739699979425333248/anyone-else-interested-in-like-a-super-jealous

YUHHHHH now THIS is what im talkin about!!!!!!!

*cracks knuckles* lets get this party started shall we

(I am so sorry to be answering this literally a million years too late I’ve redone and rewritten this prompt like 100000 times but I finally like this version!!! so here we go!!!)

Gale x AFAB f!tav

rating: oh boy this one is certainly rated M for mature

CW: smut, inappropriate use of mage hand, rough sex, PiV, oral, gale being jealous and going absolutely FERAL

word count: 5.4k

let’s get itttt

If looks could kill, surely, Astarion would have been long dead— well, even more so— by now.

Gale was never exactly fond of the pale elf from the start, and he was well aware the feeling was likely incredibly mutual— but gods, he swore he was beginning to actually hate him.

At least, he hated the way he looked at her. The way he leered at her. The way he purred her name with that practiced and over-rehearsed seductive charm of his. The way he would lock piercing crimson eyes with Gale’s blazing umber ones as he cozied up to her at the fire with that deviant and knowing smirk on his stupid pointy face. The way she would smile at him the warmest, kindest, most hopelessly and adorably oblivious smile in response to the charlatan’s blatant advances.

Maybe he did hate him, upon further reflection. If only for the last reason alone.

Astarion would find any way to touch her and be able get away with it— his hand lingering on the small of her back as he passed her, touching her shoulder to get her attention, brushing hair out of her face when stray pieces fell over her eyes— all things that seemed innocent enough until you realized who was doing them and the devious smirk on his face when his gaze would meet that of the wizard that was surely plotting his second untimely demise.

Though, he could hardly blame him.

And Gale never got upset with her, of course, he knew it wasn’t her fault and honestly, he truly didn’t blame Astarion for wanting her— gods, who could possibly resist her?

Certainly not Gale, not even if he tried; and he had tried, to no avail. Yet that didn’t quell his frustration toward the silver haired and equally silver tongued vampire for attempting to swoop in on what was likely the first real chance at mortal love he’d had in a very long time.

He’d spent the early days in their adventure together absolutely beside himself with how taken he was by her nearly instantly. He felt like a smitten schoolboy all over again when he thought about the feeling of her soft but strong hands gripping his as she pulled him from the stone by the nautiloid crash with most impressive ease, the way she looked at him with wonder and curiosity, and even a flicker of something else that he recognized as attraction because he imagined it was mirrored in his own face at the sight of her.

It was then only worsened by the night that they channeled the weave together and the kiss she’d pictured them sharing— the way their limbs tangled and their lips pressed together softly, then passionately and fervently. Her fingers wrapped in his chestnut tresses and his hands gripping the fabric at her waist— that image will be burnt into the fabric of his mind forevermore, he’s certain.

Not to mention, the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flared and flushed a heavenly shade of pink at the way he praised her as she successfully mimicked the incantation and his motions. It was enough to have him panting and attempting to tame the straining erection in his trousers when he retired to his tent that night.

He thought he’d mastered the art of managing to keep such thoughts like that at bay during his time of isolation as he tried to keep the orb sated and calm and very nonexplosive— but that was before her, after all.

It was pathetically easy at the time, considering his amount of interaction with other humans had gone from healthy to nonexistent entirely so he didn’t have much to think about aside from himself; perhaps when he was truly desperate or feeling especially lonely, he’d think about Mystra and the nights he’d spent in Elysium with her (literally and metaphorically).

But now, any attempts to be chaste or think chaste thoughts were moot in her presence.

Especially after the night they shared under the stars in the wilderness of the Shadow Cursed Lands.

They’d hardly been able to go more than a few hours without some kind of touch in the days following that perfect evening— whether it be a hand on her lower back, or holding one of her much smaller hands in his as he helped her scale a wall or hop across a boulder that she was more than capable of managing herself. A stolen kiss when no one was looking. Or, if they were lucky, they could steal a few moments alone in some ruined and crumbling crypt where he could bury himself between her thighs and send a silent thank you to whatever gods had a hand in creating a creature as divine as her.

That being said, they hadn’t been entirely discreet about their affections— not that they really wanted to be. Gale certainly had no reservations about making it known that he was claiming her for himself, despite his gentlemanly nature chastising him for it and reminding himself she was a person, not a prize to be claimed.

He would never say that she was, anyway, do not mistake it— being raised solely by a woman such as the inimitable Morena Dekarios had beaten into his core that women were not to be claimed or to be owned but to be cherished and treated as your equal. He would never claim otherwise, he couldn’t.

On the other hand, he was also acutely aware that his were not the only set of eyes that wistfully tracked her every move and every breath throughout the day within their strange band of wayward souls, and a very base part of him needed to send the clearest message he could muster without flat out verbally declaring that she was his.

It was very unlike him, this sort of possessive and primal nature, but he couldn’t deny that a small fraction of himself that he usually shoved into the deepest recesses of his being loved it for that fact. It was a part of him reserved only for her, as she was the only one who’d ever been able to coax it out of him.

And thus, he felt absolved of any guilt about the way he glared daggers at the side of Astarion’s head and pictured hurling a fire bolt at the undead man as he spoke to her in hushed tones across camp.

At least he knew it wouldn’t kill him. Although, he’d probably slit Gale’s throat for singing his singlet in return.

It was enough to keep the heat in his palm at bay for the time being.

He tried to discreetly move close enough to hear their conversation, moving toward Wyll’s tent that happened to be just a few paces away from Astarion’s and disguising his intentions as simply having a chat over a glass of wine with the warlock.

Wyll’s eyes light up as the wizard approaches, shooting him a dashing and very princely smile that he was certain had made many a maiden swoon in his younger years as the duke’s son, galavanting through ballrooms and dragging said maidens to the dance floor after either one too many glasses of brandy or none at all.

“Gale, my friend! Fancy a glass of wine?” He kindly proposed, tilting the glass in his hand in Gale’s direction.

Gale offers an almost genuine smile, nodding. “Thank you, Wyll. I think a hearty glass of wine is just what I need at the moment,” he laments with a sigh.

Wyll disappears for only a moment before returning with a glass and wine bottle in hand. “That bad, huh?”

Gale gratefully takes the silver glass and holds it out for Wyll to pour the rest of the Amnan Liquer he’d been holding onto since their escapades at the former Rosymorn Monastery turned Githyanki Crèche.

He turns his body just enough to keep both his lover and the offending vampire in his line of sight, attempting to tune into their conversation and realizing that he can faintly hear the melodic hum of her voice, as well as the silky tones of Astarion’s.

Firebolt. No, no.

Wyll’s eyes dart between Gale, then Tav, then Astarion, his eyebrow raising. “Astarion certainly doesn’t lack in the gall department, I’ll give him that.”

Gale huffs a bitter laugh. “Can’t fault him. As much as I want to.”

Wyll gently bumps his shoulder into Gale’s with a reassuring smile. “One can’t always be a gentleman, Gale. I respect your restraint, but if I were you, even I would be cutting in on whatever it is that he’s doing with her. Love the fellow, but I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”

Gale goes silent, giving himself a moment to try to catch any of what was being said between them, only hearing the sound of her laughter intermingling with Astarion’s— and suddenly Wyll’s advice had become all the more tempting to follow.

I could just go over there, he thinks. ‘Assert my dominance’ the old fashioned way. Or…

A wickedly devious idea flutters across his mind, and a smirk forms on his lips. Before he can realize it and stop it, Wyll’s tadpole connects to his, and Wyll snorts as he sees what debauchery Gale’s brain had concocted.

“She’d have your arse in a second,” he jokingly warns. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Gale wanted to listen to reason (Wyll Ravengard being the voice of reason, in this instance) and just do the diplomatic thing as he always did— but a part of him wanted to make a show of it all. To show her as well as everyone else the lengths he’d go to for her.

He whispers a simple cantrip and waves his hand, blue light glowing from his palm as he calls for a spectral hand to appear before him. He eyes the mage hand for a moment, waving his fingers and watching it as it mirrors his movements with perfect accuracy. A rush of excitement passes through him as he ponders the possibilities, but debates for a moment whether he should— only to hear the lovely melody that was her laughter once again and his decision was sealed.

He commands the hand to become invisible, the only way for him to tell it was still there was the very faint outline of it that you could only notice if you had been looking for it. He flicks his hand in her direction, commanding it to fly toward her.

“Your funeral,” Wyll chuckles, taking a long sip from his chalice, eyebrows raised.

The hand obliges, quickly floating to her but stopping just beside her. She shivers slightly as it grazes her bare shoulder, her head snapping in the direction of the sudden sensation.

Gale freezes for a moment, praying she doesn’t catch on too soon. When she finally turns her attention back to Astarion, he relaxes, then motions for the hand to gently brush her hair over her other shoulder, causing her to jump and look again, her eyes narrowed as she scans the area. Her gaze lands on Gale, and he tries to remain composed but cannot hide the pleased smirk on his face. She furrows her brows, a look of confusion and suspicion on her face as she turns away once again. She still hadn’t caught on just yet, much to Gale’s delight.

He continues once again, now commanding the hand to gently caress the back of her neck, the cool sensation of its spectral palm causing goosebumps to rise and her hair to stand on end. She sucks in a sharp breath, causing Astarion’s eyes to snap up to her.

“Everything alright, dear?” He hears Astarion ask, his signature shit-eating grin still on his lips.

She nods, clearing her throat. “Mhm, sorry, I just— ah, got a bit chilly.”

He cocks a brow at her. “I would offer to warm you, but I don’t think that I am qualified for the task,” he jokes, causing Gale’s jaw to clench.

Firebolt. Ooh, better yet, Fireball. Ice knife. Lightning bolt, perhaps?

She laughs, then gasps once again as the hand has now relocated to the front of her, gently tracing the outline of her collar bone. It then follows the curve of the top of her breast, settling between her cleavage for a moment before continuing down further and further, grazing her abdomen before stopping just at the waistline of her breeches.

“Gods, I shouldn’t be watching this,” Wyll grunts, shaking his head and allowing his gaze to drop to the ground.

She turns and shoots a piercing look at Gale, now fully aware of what was happening. He winks at her, before commanding the hand to continue its journey down her body, ghosting over the spot between her thighs. She squeezes her legs shut tight, in an attempt to quell the heat pooling low in her core despite her rising frustration toward Gale and her embarrassment.

“Darling, do you need a blanket? Perhaps we could move into my te—”

“I’m fine,” She blurts, loud enough so that she knows Gale hears her, as she refuses to give in to his childish behavior. “What were you saying?”

As Astarion continues whatever riveting story he’d been telling before she distracted him, she shoots Gale one last pathetic glance, not sure whether she was begging him to stop or keep going. He smirks, taking her pleading eyes as his queue to continue, moving the mage hand southward and grazing her blazing hot center.

She sucks in another breath, this time a lot quieter, her head falling back that she attempts to play off as if she were simply looking up at the stars.

Astarion’s head shoots up to look at her again, almost as if he were beginning to get frustrated.

“S-stars are bright tonight,” She stammers, eliciting a chuckle from Gale. He was enjoying this far too much to stop now.

He wills the hand to press two fingers down right where he knows her clit is, reveling in the way her back arches at the sudden touch, right where he knew she loved it.

Astarion’s eyebrow raises as he eyes her, her face flushed, her hair in disarray and her legs clamped shut tight. He was— unfortunately for her— very good at reading body language, even more specifically hers, and he was beginning to catch on to her predicament. His eyes dart over toward Gale who was not at all subtle with the devious smirk on his face as his hand continued commanding the spell.

“Your wizard is clever, I’ve got to hand it to him.” He smirks, stifling a chuckle.

Her eyes go wide, the hot blush in her cheeks only increasing.

“I’m going to kill him.” She hisses through gritted teeth, before twisting and facing Gale, who could not contain the triumphant grin on his face despite her very displeased expression.

“Do it out where I can watch, won’t you, darling? I’m quite overdue for a good show.” He calls after her, watching her storm toward Gale, shaking his head and chuckling with delight.

Gale dismisses the spell as he spots her making a very angry beeline toward him, then crosses his arms behind his back innocently as she approaches him.

“I warned you, you cheeky bastard.” Wyll grumbles, watching with anticipation and vaguely hidden amusement as she stomps toward the wizard beside him with murderous intent.

Gale offers her a smile as she approaches, to which she only offers a grimace.

“Hello, my love. Feeling alright?” He says equally as innocently, in spite of the devilish grin on his face.

She shakes her head. “Tent. Now.”

He raises his hands in defense, shit-eating smirk ever persistent. “Your wish is my command, darling.” He draws out the pet name to mimic the way Astarion says it, earning a rather angry eye roll.

He trails behind her as she continues her warpath toward his tent, his heart racing as he imagines exactly what he plans to do the second he gets her alone— he’d saved those thoughts for after Wyll’s tadpole’s connection broke from his own to spare him the filthy details.

She ducks into his tent brusquely, the flap slapping closed behind her before he makes his own way in after her. He chuckles at her ire, and the fact that in any other situation he’d be on his knees begging her for forgiveness in response to her irritation toward him— but this time, he planned on using it much to his advantage. Fuel for the fire, so to speak.

The second he enters the tent, her wild eyes are on him and she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest which was still heaving, her face still completely flushed.

“What the hells is wrong with y—”

Her tirade is cut off by lips roughly crashing onto hers, her words being instantly smothered then swallowed by him and his tongue and the bittersweet taste of wine on his breath. She wants to fight back but finds her efforts moot as she instantly melts into him, allowing him to maneuver her exactly as he wishes.

Rough but elegant hands grip her waist, pulling her body flush to his, enough for her to feel the erection straining to be freed from his pants against her lower stomach. The heat that had been coiling and pooling low within her had only reignited with a vengeance now, partially fueled by her anger toward him and mostly fueled by her ever present desire for him.

His hands migrated to palm the swell of her ass, kneading the plush but still firm flesh that always caught his attention even in the worst moments such as the middle of a tense battle— something he almost felt the need to punish her for, even though it wasn’t truly her fault.

His tongue explores her mouth hungrily as her hands move to begin undoing the buttons of his linen shirt, before one of his hands catches her wrist and holds it, lacing her fingers through his. He breaks the kiss, dark umber irises pooling with pure liquid lust and carnality as they meet her more perplexed ones.

Leaving her unspoken questions unanswered, he unbuttons her pants with one hand, yanking them down her legs until she takes it upon herself to kick them off and discard them somewhere on the ground within the tent. He tugs at the bottom edge of her shirt, and she wordlessly grants him permission with only a small nod and a raise of her arms to afford him some ease in ripping it over her head and adding to the growing pile of clothes scattered across the floor of the small space.

She’s lit only by the soft orange glow of the campfire leaking in through the crack of the tent flap that neither of them had bothered to seal, her skin radiant even in the dimness of the night. He drinks in her frame, eyes skimming along every contour of her body, every rounded edge and every sharp one— even the shadow she cast against the back wall of his tent was erotic, all hips and curves and the most heavenly structure.

As if she’d been lovingly built by Sune’s own gracious hands.

“Lay down,” he commands, pointing to the bedroll that he’d preemptively fixed and made extra comfortable with several more layers of blankets, pillows, and furs. “And spread your legs for me.”

She obliges instantly, quickly but gracefully laying atop the nest of cotton and fur and velvet, her hair splaying around her head and framing her like a halo— only serving to make his already painfully stiff cock twitch against the fabric of his pants and a bead of precum leak from the tip. He feared he may not even be able to make it long enough to be inside of her at this rate.

“That’s my girl,” he almost moans, his voice low and husky and reverent as he drops to his knees before her, moving to kneel between her legs. “My beautiful girl.”

She blushes and shyly looks away, her bottom lip caught between her teeth to bite back a smile. He leans over her, gently gripping her chin with his fingers and moving her face back to look at him. “Eyes on me, my love. My love.” He drawls, dragging out his words in hopes that they’d have more time to sink into her precious mind that he cherished just as much, if not more than her wholly divine body.

Gale was all together a typically patient man. He did almost everything meticulously and gracefully. He would spend hours studying a particular topic just to ensure that he’d get it right the very first time.

Gale as a lover was no different.

He’d spent hours and even days at this point learning everything he could about her body— every sensitivity, every weak spot, ticklish spot, every scar or freckle or blemish. The things she was insecure or shy about, the things that would send her eyes rolling back into her head.

He had become a consummate virtuoso at worshiping her body and what granted her the most pleasure possible. He lavished her in it, bathed her in every ounce of bliss he possibly could until she could no longer speak, much less think properly.

Tonight was no exception— though he was considerably less delicate than was typical for him, as he hungrily lapped at the heat between her thighs as if it contained the last drop of honey on the face of Faerun. He licked and kissed and sucked and drank in every bit of her essence he possibly could, not stopping even after she’d already come just to wring out every last bit of her pleasure for his own selfish need. The selfish need to taste her, to savor her. To devour her.

He didn’t stop until she was a tangled mess of shaking limbs and clammy skin and teary eyes, and she whimpered his name like a plea. Whether it were a plea to stop or to keep going was unclear for both of them.

He lifted his face, his beard and lips drenched in her slick as he licked the remains of her off of his lips and fingers, causing her to clamp her legs together at the sight. He smirks triumphantly, knowing full well that she was nearing being entirely spent and yet she still wanted more.

“Please,” she whimpered, leaning up (very unsteadily) to finish unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons and the fabric. He relents and allows her to make her best attempt with her trembling fingers before he takes over for her, lifting it over his head and discarding the linen nearby.

Her finger gently trails from the dark purple mark of the orb on his chest down the hard planes of his torso until she reaches the waistband of his pants, dipping her finger underneath and tugging at it. Her eyes meet his full of intent, and he feels the tadpole in his head stir as she tries to connect to him.

I need to suck your cock. Please.

His eyes darken as he looks at her, the image of her perfectly pink lips wrapped around him searing into his mind— whether it being his own thoughts or hers invading his didn’t matter— but he shakes his head, then severs the connection.

She frowns, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He rubs his thumb along the swollen softness of it as he caresses her chin, tilting her head back slightly to get a better view of the elegant column of her neck. He had plans for the perfect and smooth expanse of the area between her jaw and her clavicle that he soon intended to enact. But not yet.

“Naughty girl,” he chastises her, but not without a devious smirk and a hint of lustful playfulness.

She whimpers again, sending goosebumps down his arms and the hair on them to raise on end. “Please, Gale. I want to make you feel good, I need to make you feel good,” she stammers, her eyes peering up at his, wanton and needy.

It was enough to almost oblige her request, but he knew if her mouth came anywhere near his already all too sensitive cock that he’d come apart at the seams instantly, and that just wouldn’t do.

“And I need to be inside of you,” he retorts, his voice soft but stern. “I need to claim what’s mine.” He nearly growls.

Gentleman Gale reprimands him in his mind, but is quickly overtaken by Her Gale— the one that only answers to her and belongs solely to her. The one that hoped with everything in him there was also a part of her that was his and only his.

Her mouth opens to speak, and he half expects her to yell at him and berate him for reducing her to a prize to be claimed— and is pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t.

“Please. Please come here, please fuck me,” she begs, the rasp in her voice as she does nothing short of absolutely erotic.

He needs no further instruction, and quickly removes his pants and undergarments, his erection springing free and already slick with his own desire. She eyes it with a hunger that he recognizes and has to ignore before the temptation to fuck her mouth grows any stronger.

He presses his strong but gentle hand against her chest, slowly pushing her back against the pillows as he moves to position himself at her entrance, her legs wrapping around his hips and urging him forward impatiently. He taps the side of one of her thighs in warning, rubbing the head of his cock across her already soaked folds to further lubricate it and tease her.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

She whines, her voice broken as if she truly might cry if she goes another second without him inside her. “Gale.”

He chuckles darkly, once again pressing the swollen head of his cock at her entrance, slipping in as slowly as he can manage, mustering every bit of strength and willpower he has left not to just bury himself in her as deep as he can.

“Tell me,” he commands, his voice low and gruff but still needy, almost desperate.

She connects the dots instantly, knowing exactly what he wanted. What he craved. “I’m yours, Gale. Only yours.”

She cries out in shock, slight pain, and pure ecstasy as he harshly snaps his hips into hers, his cock burying to the hilt in her velvet heat.

Home. This felt like home.

He knew that he probably should have given her more time to adjust to him, and it was something he’d surely feel guilty about later, but Her Gale wanted her to feel it tomorrow. He wanted her to be reminded of this moment as she goes on about her day through the ache between her legs as she walks, constantly reminding her who fucks her like this, who loves her like this.

“My pretty girl, my perfect girl,” he chants, his words leaving his lips like a litany of prayer as if he were in a temple of worship. He’d always been a man of religion, but this was holier and more divine than anything he’d ever experienced— even sharing a bed with an actual goddess couldn’t compare.

She throws her head back, her eyes shut tightly and she desperately grips at the pillows around her to ground herself, her neck on full display. He leans down to place wet kisses in a trail from her jaw to her collarbone, biting and sucking in very obvious spots that she’d be hard pressed to be able to cover in the morning.

She writhes and moans underneath him, one of her hands moving to grip the back of his head and fist the hair at the nape of his neck, the sensation of her fingers tugging at his scalp blending from slight pain into pure pleasure earning a throaty grunt from him that rumbles in his chest.

He feels her tighten ever so slightly around him, her walls clenching and pulsing in a sort of warning. He continues his pace, driving her closer and closer to the precipice.

“Gale, I’m gonna—”

“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he coos, leaning down and pressing his lips to her sweat slicked forehead, then whispering, “come for me, my love.”

It wasn’t so much a demand as a desperate request, as his need to feel her come on him and to ride out the waves of her pleasure alongside her became almost devastating.

To urge her on even further, he slipped a hand down and began to rub quick circles around her clit as he pounded into her until she saw stars— it wasn’t long before she completely shattered underneath him, tumbling into free fall off the edge of the best orgasm she’d ever had.

She cries out a jumbled mess of I love you and I’m yours with his name sprinkled throughout as she reaches the peak and dives off the edge, her hips rocking upward into Gale’s as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. He feels himself quickly approaching his own finish line, the feeling of her cunt pulsing and hugging his cock tighter and tighter driving him further and further.

A few more thrusts and he was done for, spilling everything he had in her and grunting her name as he came, the entire fiber of his being ripping apart and repairing itself as he went limp above her, barely having enough strength to brace himself with his hands on either side of her head as he gripped the pillows so that he doesn’t crush her under his weight.

They both fall silent apart from the sounds of their breathing steadying and slowing to a calm and regular pace, the only other sounds being that of the distant crackling of the fire and the even more distant sounds of their companions still wrapping up for the night and preparing for bed.

Her eyes flutter open to find his in the dim light of the fire, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek. He sighs and leans into her touch, turning his head to place a kiss to the center of her palm, the coarse hair of his beard scratching her skin and tickling it, making her giggle quietly.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” she jokes, causing him to nibble at the skin of her palm playfully. “That wasn’t funny, Gale.”

He smiles and reaches for a rag to clean her up with. “I had hoped this would serve as an adequate apology.”

She sucks in a breath as he pulls out and rubs the rag across her still sensitive and throbbing core, her hips bucking upward slightly with some discomfort. “You expected to fuck me into complicity?”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest as he finishes cleaning her, then tosses the rag aside and lays beside her, pulling her onto his chest.

“Not exactly,” he says, earning a disbelieving grimace from her. “I am sorry, for what it’s worth. I just— I don’t think you realize that seeing the way he interacts with you and the way you interact with him is nothing short of agonizing for me.”

She saw the hurt in his eyes even in the dark— the ache and the gnawing need for reassurance. She understood it all too well, as she’d done the same when the topic of Mystra would get brought up in the earlier days of their relationship.

“There is no other set of arms I’d rather have wrapped around me right now than yours. There is no other company I’d rather share in the way I share in yours. Don’t you know that?” She asked, shifting so that she’s leaning over him, his big brown eyes resembling those of a puppy being told it was a good boy.

“I am yours, Gale Dekarios,” she whispers. “Body and soul.”

Relief and pure elation smoothed out the concern from his features. He pulled her closer to him, until she was mostly on top of him and her head rested on his chest and he could press a long kiss against the top of her head, breathing in her scent and shutting his eyes, both of them drifting into a peaceful slumber.

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hrryshoney · 3 months

Text

no. 1 party anthem

matty healy x photographer!reader

A/N: lowkey projecting bc im a photographer/videographer❤️ this is set during like self-titled. if u could tell. named this after the AM song bc i think it fits (the bridge of this song is so them coded) this is unnecessarily long (6.1k words) but anyway Enjoy

warnings: smut 18+. um fingering, p in v unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation a bit? (male), degradation, praise, use of a camera during sex, Sir kink, exhibitionism (kinda), sex on a couch, light choking/slapping (blink and miss it!), probs more kinda filthy etc..

Today was shit. Complete and utter shit. Your alarm didn’t go off, you spilled coffee all over yourself, had to go home to change, and you were going to be late to your first clients appointment. It’s only 8:30, and you could already tell it was going to be a bad day.

Your first client was booked at 7:45. You only had four appointments today. Normally, you’d be a bit more booked out. But, your last clients would take up more time than usual. An up-and-coming band you heard, that were quite popular already. Their management had informed them about your local studio, and an appointment was made.

Upon walking into your studio promptly at 8:00, you saw that your best friend was stalling for you. She had your first client engulfed in mindless conversation. God love her, Lexi knew how to keep a crowd entertained. Really, showing up 15 minutes late wasn’t a good look. You were glad she was here to null some of the damage.

As you walked up to them, you caught the tail end of her gossiping, no doubt. You placed your hand on Lexi’s shoulder, startling her out of conversation. “Oh! Let me get out of your way. I was just telling Christian how my last shift at the diner was absolute madness. As always, though. He’s all checked in. Have fun, hope the shoot goes well!” You shot her an appreciative smile, then an apologetic one to Christian.

Stepping out of the lobby and leading him to the studio, you were face to face with him. “I am so, so sorry I kept you waiting. This morning was one from hell, for sure.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry. Shit happens.” He smiled back at you, following you into the room.

You were grateful for his understanding, hoping it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience. You prided yourself on being punctual and professional. Thankfully, the studio was already set up for his shoot

You took the lens cap off your camera and began to set up your tripod for some head shots. Flipping the camera switch to ON, you then turned to Christian.

“Let’s get started.”

…

Your next 2 appointments went on without a hitch. They were both fairly basic shoots, nothing too heavy. Your 2nd client was even a regular. She was so lovely. Today she came in to get maternity photos with her husband. Considering how long she’s been coming to your studio, you were ecstatic for her.

You were still a bit out of it and tired though, the effects of your morning not completely worn off yet. You had an hour and 45 minutes before your last clients for the day came in. The band that you’ve been anticipating.

It was 11:34 now, so you were taking this as an opportunity for your lunch break. You decided to go to the sandwich shop that was about a block down from your studio. Walking out of the darkroom in your facility, (some guests preferred genuine photographic film) you spotted Lexi. Still behind the front desk, but now on a stool, slouched and looking at her phone. Mindlessly scrolling, she was kicking her feet back and forth as they dangled from her place in her seat.

“Hungry?” You came up beside her, tapping her thigh twice. Lexi was pulled out of whatever she was watching on her phone, looking up at you. “Mhm, starving. Lunch?”

“On me,” You confirmed, “thought we could get it in before our last clients. They’re gonna take a while, but I’m looking forward to it.” You said honestly, looking out the studio’s glass windows to the street. “Have we ever shot a band?” You use the term ‘we’ loosely. When you and your best friend both got a start, you always knew that you were going to be more hands-on. She didn’t necessarily share the passion for photography, but when she had no shifts picked up for her service job at the local diner, she would pay you a visit. She stuck beside you, and you’re thankful for it.

Lexi does most of the behind the scenes work for you when she’s there, and it would honestly be 10x harder without her. “Don’t think so. I would have remembered that. Every guy in a band is, like, insanely hot.” She hopped off her stool, beat white converse hitting the ground.

“Good to know where your priorities are. Hopefully they’re cooperative.” You wondered aloud, you knew they were young. That normally meant they would be rowdy, too. Four guys around your age was bad news in general, even worse that they’re musicians. “Hopefully they’re hot.” Lexi corrects, too caught up in picking at her nail beds to see your expression.

She had you laughing out loud. Wide eyes and an even wider grin on your face. “Right, extra incentive.” You picked up your keys to the front door that were lying on one of the shelves under the front desk. Checking your watch and walking to the door, you flipped the sign to CLOSED so you and Lex could grab a bite in peace.

…

You and Lexi wasted more time than you thought. You were out for at least an hour, having went shopping after eating. You both decided you could use a new outfit. Not for anything particular, but just to treat yourselves. Then, you traveled back to the studio.

30 minutes until your next client, you still had time to kill. You went to read the email from their management, again. You saw they specifically wanted a couch in their shoot. You should probably set up their studio now. You knew you had an old, black leather couch in the back somewhere. Finding it would be the hard part.

It wouldn’t be in any of your front studios, so you decided to check the last one first. Studio 13, it was more of a storage room now. When you first leased this place, you were pretty sure it used to be a one-level warehouse. You’re never booked to the point where you’re using all the studios, and you don’t have enough staffing anyway. Still, it cleans up nicely.

You end up shouting for Lex’s help dragging the big couch to your front studio. You had already set up a white tarp for your backdrop, knowing it was a pretty minimalistic shoot. As you lug the couch along the concrete floor, the feet of it scraping against it to make a rather brash noise, you began to think the soft, calming music that you queued to combat it wasn’t working very well.

You finally push the last bit of the couch into the studio, dragging it in front of the white tarp. Lexi raised her hand for a high five, which you gladly reciprocate. You look at her with a grin. “Not bad, huh? Little studio we got going.” You both laugh, staring at the quite bleak set.

“Best in town,” Lex returns dryly, she steps out and looks to the front windows. “Those your clients?” Before you even look, you answer. Albeit sarcastically, “And I’m supposed to know, how? I’ve never met these people before.” But the words died in your throat the moment you looked. They had to be your next clients. You didn’t think anyone could fit the bill for ‘band members’ more perfectly.

So, there they were. Smoking and loitering outside the studio. And Lexi was right, because she always had to be. They were hot. No sooner than you think it, the words are coming out her mouth. “Christ, they’re handsome.” All of them wearing some short of black getup, with tight jeans and t-shirts. One boy, with longer, blonde hair, had his sunglasses on with a snapback. She laughs through her sentence in disbelief, a hand coming to her mouth. You can’t help but follow suit.

“Right, well. Even if they are, he best not ash his cig in my flower pots.” You squinted your eyes, the cigarette resting between the boys middle and index figure. Trailing your gaze to his face, he had dark curly hair. A pale complexion with deep brown eyes, cheeks sunken in as he took a drag of his cigarette. The face that, after you finished staring, you saw was looking right at you with a half-smirk. You smiled back and looked to Lex, taking a step back into the front studio. “He saw me.”

“You weren’t exactly being subtle, but oh well. That’s the one you want?” She raises her eyebrows in a tease, a wide grin splitting across her lips. Your face and body heat, eyes widening. “Can you not? I need to be professional. This is the real deal, you know? They’ve got management and everything.” You didn’t wanna blow your shot, you knew this was the foot in the door to bigger things. Cute band members were not taking this one from you.

Your hands came subconsciously to brush at your outfit, looking down at yourself to see if you looked presentable. You could practically hear your best friend’s thoughts, and the smirk on her face. You ignored her.

The bell on your door rang with entrance, and you turned to see one of the guys walking in. He had shorter dirty blonde hair, and you could see one of the others stomping on his cigarette before following behind.

Putting on your customer service smile, you took a few steps back to make room for the 4 men in the lobby. You scooted closer to Lexi, suddenly feeling outnumbered. Four sets of eyes were now looking back at you. Two brunettes, one who had closer to black hair. Two blondes, one whose was longer and lighter.

“Nice to meet you,” You sighed out, their intimidating gazes piercing. “So, um, welcome to our studio.” You introduced the both of you, giving your name and Lexi’s. Gesturing between the two of you with a wave of your hand.

They went down the line doing the same. Ross, Matty, Adam, and George. In that order, introductions exchanged in their thick accents through giggles. The boy you had taken interest in you now knew as Matty, and he was only drawing you in more.

“Well, we can get started on your session early since… you’re here.” You looked to the group, waiting for some sort of approval. You got a couple head nods, and a smirk from Matty.

“That eager to get us in, babe?” He chuckled, knocking his shoulder into his friend’s playfully. You felt embarrassment flood through you, but you led them to the studio with your head up.

“Sure. So, Studio 13. I’ll get a lot of ‘full band’ shots, but your manager said he wanted some solo shots of the each of you, too. Think it’ll be easier to get the group ones now, though.” You told them, wringing your hands slightly.

There was a small murmur of agreement, and you turned around to get your camera ready. Checking your lens, SD card, battery. “Whatever you think, you’re the pro.” Your head shot up, seeing Ross smile reassuringly at you. You returned the gesture and got back to work.

As you walked around the room to flick your lights on, you saw Matty shooting his friend a look. You didn’t think too much of it, but your eyes couldn’t stop finding his face. You were gonna have fun photographing him solo. “Okay, everyone! Get together, pose, do whatever you want. I’ll take a bunch of shots.”

After a few pictures, you stopped. Lowering your camera. “Maybe.. We should get you in the middle.” You pointed at Matty, him freezing in his place at the end of the line. “I mean, you’re just…” You trailed off, hoping he’d get the point.

George spoke up, saving you from having to complete your sentence. “She’s saying you’re the shortest, mate. Get in the middle.” He snickered, hand raising to his mouth to hide his smile.

Matty’s smile dropped, shoving his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever,” he muttered, moving to his new spot. “Better?” He tried to hold back his laugh, but was failing over the sound of his friends chuckles in the background.

Once you got them started, you could see they really were naturals. You assumed their close bond caused them to work so well and naturally together. Joking around, but still getting good shots.

However, this perception faded when you had to go in for the solos. Of course, above anything, they were boys. And they were also making your job a living hell. No matter who you were photographing, the other three were trying to get a laugh. Anything to make their friend break.

Your last straw was when you tried to get a photo of Adam, and Matty all but fell into his lap. You laughed along, (because truly, it really was just a little bit funny), but forced yourself back into work mode.

“Okay, this isn’t working. How about for the solo shots the rest of you stand out in the hallway? And we get a little rotation.” You suggested, trying to make yourself sound as light hearted as possible. Though a wave of whines passed over the group, they ultimately agreed in the end.

Working with them one-on-one was really nice. The two guys you shot so far, Adam and George, were very intelligent and funny. Unnaturally respectful for men your age, and you really couldn’t complain.

You finished both of them up, their mini shoots taking about 15 minutes each. You went back in the hallway you collect another one of them.

Adam and George now stood to the side, leaving Matty and Ross to linger right outside the door. You opened the door, looking at both of them and keeping your palm on the door handle. “Who’s next?”

Ross’ eyes went to Matty’s, about to step backwards and let him go. Then, Matty’s arm shot out to land on Ross’ shoulder. It seemed he tried to give his friend a shove forward, but the most he got out of Ross was a stumble. “Ross will go next. Save the best for last and all that, right?”

You giggled at Matty’s antics, while the rest of his friends let out sighs and eye rolls. Ross mumbled something under his breath, a sarcastic ‘right, sure..’ was the most you caught. You then lead him into the studio, closing the door on your way.

Ross’ session took about 5 minutes more than the others. He was incessantly flirting, making it hard to do your job. And while there was no denying that he was very cute, you knew they were all harmless comments.

You were finding out quickly that the boys were good company. And the shots were all turning out more than great. They were all so naturally photogenic, and the camera loved them. You doubted you’d have to do much editing.

…

You walked out with Ross, on your way to finally bring Matty in. You two lightly chatted on your way out, Matty’s eyes landing on you the second the door opened. He looked at Ross and tilted his head, to which the taller boy only looked down at him and grinned.

You broke the awkward silence, clapping your hands together. “Right, well. Matty, last but not least and all that.” You step back and put your hands up, gesturing for him to step in before you.

Once you finally got him away from the rest of the band and you closed the door, his whole demeanor shifted. Matty turned around instantly to look at you, and you looked down to the floor. You could see his smile through your periphery.

“Okay, so. For the rest of the guys I got a few of them standing and a few of them sitting on the couch…” You trail off, looking around the room. At this point, you’re just desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. Maybe saving him for last wasn’t the brightest idea.

“Okay,” Matty nods his head, eyes following yours and looking around the studio. “Should I.. get on the couch?” He says offhandedly, a hand coming to hide the smirk that’s blooming on his face.

You feel your face get hot, but you agree anyway. “Um, yeah. That’ll work.” You walk over to the studio light, dragging it in place from where you moved it when with Ross.

After getting the area set up, you turn back to Matty. He’s looking at you expectantly, waiting for direction. “You can just pose however you want. I’ll just take a bunch of shots and there’s bound to be some keepers.” You smile and turn your camera on, fiddling with the settings.

“Have to tell me if I’m doing good, then. Don’t know what I’m doing when I pose, to be honest.” He laughs, moving in his seat a bit. You scoff, still too preoccupied with your camera to realize you did it out loud. “What?” he asks intrigued, still smiling.

“Don’t think you could really look bad. I mean, you’re photogenic and good looking to begin with, so.” You press your lips together, the words flowing out of your mouth too freely. You turn around and walk to a cart that’s in the corner of the room, pretending to grab something from it.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Think I look good?” His smile grows unbelievably wider, not being able to hold back his teasing remarks. You roll your eyes, obviously not meaning the blatant compliment to come out. You come closer to him and he kicks his knee out so it brushes your thigh.

Trying to brush it off, you shrug your shoulders. “You caught me,” You said with the faintest smirk on your face. Taking photos of him flows naturally. He’s just too.. perfect. And though you don’t throw that word around, he really is. You already love the few shots you have of him.

You get down on your knees to take the next picture from a better angle, leaning back on your calves as you do. Matty’s eyes widen and immediately find yours. It doesn’t register in your head what he’s thinking, until you see him shift in his seat.

He doesn’t do it subtly, and you know he wants you to look. You’re no better, so easily giving into temptation. Your eyes drag to his hips, watching the way he lifts himself off the couch momentarily.

“Alright, babe?” He calls, drawing your attention back up to his face. Though, your gaze lingers on his mouth. He winks at you.

“Should I be asking you that instead?” You hide behind the camera, snapping more pictures. You remembered the promise you made to Lexi and yourself. Be professional.

He chuckled, bringing his hands to run them along his thighs. “Only if you’re gonna help me out.” His eyes search yours for an answer, and you can only guess that you look as desperate as you feel. You nod.

His hands run higher, rubbing over the tent in his jeans. “Gonna need your words, then.” He smirks, and you feel so out of control. But it feels nice.

“Yes, please. I’ll help you.” You get up from your spot on the floor, ready to move towards him. Matty’s hand presses on himself harder, and he groans.

“Ah,” He tsks, stopping you in your tracks. “Don’t get to touch me yet, we’re not done our photo shoot.” He smiles, which then gets interrupted with a moan. The only thing you’re focusing on is how he works himself with his hand.

“Please, Matty. Need you.” You’re already begging him, but you don’t dare move from your spot. Because you want to be good for him. You feel the pit in your stomach, and then the pool of arousal in your panties.

“C’mon, take a picture of me baby. Isn’t that your job?” Matty throws his head back, palming himself through his jeans even more. You feel your knees weaken, the camera suddenly heavier in your hand.

You bring the camera up to your face, looking through the view finder. Matty looks sinful. You clench your thighs together and his hips lift off the couch even more, a whimper falling past his lips. You take the photo.

“Knew you’d be so fucking eager. Could see ya eye fucking me since we got here.” Matty starts to unzip his pants, allowing his cock to be less constrained by the pressure. You don’t even think when your finger hits the button.

“Like you weren’t doing the same?” You shoot back, voice coming out breathier than intended. He lifted his hips up, pulling his jeans down past his thighs. He was left in his black Calvin Klein boxers. The imprint of his hard cock very much visible.

He strokes himself over his boxers, mouth parting slightly. “Watch that mouth, thought you were a good girl.” He groans out through gritted teeth. “Come here.”

You obey, of course. Walking straight to him, though your mouth gets the best of you. “Maybe you thought wrong.” You say with an innocent smile, the toes of your shoes hitting his. He grabs your wrist, bringing it to his dick. He moves your hand up and down, letting you feel all of him.

“Wanna be a brat for me, baby? Come on, take me out. I’ve got another use for that mouth.” You reach for his waistband, your camera still in your other hand. He notices the compromising position and takes it from you. You expect him to put it to the side, but he keeps it in his hand. “Get back on your knees.”

You lower yourself down, pulling Matty out fully. He’s pretty. His cock is long and thick, the tip slightly red with precum beading out from touching himself. “So big, Sir.” You look up at him through your lashes, pumping him twice. He whines out.

“Sir, huh?” He smirks, throat gravelly. You work your hands around his length more. Then, you hear it. The camera shutter. You look up, his eyes looking through the viewfinder.

“Can I suck you off?” You bat your eyelashes, waiting for permission. Matty’s hands falter, bringing the camera down slightly. He hums.

“Mhm, take your top off, sweetheart. Leave your bra and leggings.” You pull your hands off him, swiping your shirt over your head. You were wearing a blue bra with lace trim, and it pushed your tits together nicely. Thank you, Lord.

Matty started to pump his cock when your hand left, now working himself faster. “Open your mouth.” You submitted to him, quickly sticking your tongue out. You subconsciously pushed your breasts together with your elbows.

Matty slapped his dick on your tongue, loving the way your moans vibrated around him. He teased you, taking himself away to take another picture. “Please, please Sir.” You rock yourself on your heel, the desperation growing.

“Little slut,” He giggles, pressing his cock into your mouth. Groaning out when you close your lips around him. You could only take a little more than half of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip.

Your hands came up to work the rest of what didn’t fit. “Made for this, to take my cock.” You whined around him at that. Hollowing your cheeks and pulling off a bit. You say something around him that he can’t make out, and he bucks into your mouth.

Matty’s hand comes to rest on the back of your head, hand tangling in your hair. “Like that? Wanna be my fucktoy?” You nod around him, bringing one of your hands to rub yourself over your leggings. Matty guides your head down on him until you gag, letting you pull off and take a breath.

Tears welling in your eyes, you swallow your saliva and look back up at him. “I’m okay, please keep going. I like it.” You respond to the concerned look in his eyes, and he nods. Before you take him in your mouth again, you spit back on his cock.

“Fucking hell, shit.” Matty moans, throwing his head back on the frame of the couch. He pushes your head down again, making you take his whole cock in your mouth. You don’t gag this time, and he starts to move his hips.

He’s fucking your mouth, and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You felt your knees starting to bruise, and you rubbed your cunt faster. The only thing separating you being two layers of fabric.

He pulled you off of him, then. Looking at you touching yourself. “Getting off on making me feel good? S’pathetic, baby.” He teased you, and you heard the camera go off yet again. “C’mon, up here. Gonna make you feel good.”

What a gentleman, you think. Not coming before you. The thought makes you giggle, but it’s interrupted by your own shriek when he pulls you onto the couch. He places you on his thigh, grinding you down against him. Your whines are constant and he’s not letting up. “Please, Matty. I want you.” You whimper.

Matty pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the side. You state shamelessly, taking in all of his tattoos. They make him even more attractive, and you know you’re only feeding his ego with your wide eyes and parted lips.

He flips your position, and now Matty’s on his knees before you. He pulls your leggings off briskly. Then, you’re only left in a bra and panties. He presses over the wet spot on your panties, and you jolt. He hooks his finger in them, and pulls them to the side.

His fingers run through your wetness, and you’re practically glistening under the studio lights. He slips his middle finger inside of you, but it’s gone as soon as it came. You squirm, needing to feel any kind of friction. He pulls you closer to him by your thighs, spreading your legs wide.

He’s just staring for a few minutes, until you feel him blow a gust of cold air onto your exposed cunt. You scream out, hips bucking off the couch. Matty lightly slaps your inner thigh. “Sh, don’t want our friends to know what a whore you are, right? Giving it up so easy for a guy you just met.” You hear the smirk in his words, his accent becoming thicker and breathing more rapid.

Without warning, he licks a bold stripe up the center of your pussy. You put your hand in front of your mouth, muffling the moans. Matty sees this, however, and has a different idea. He says something without lifting up from you, the feeling of his mouth making your eyes roll back. Finally, he pulls off of you. “Camera.”

You whine, “Huh?” The camera is suddenly being placed in your hand, the weight making you shake more. “Only fair you get some pictures of me. Had your photoshoot, now it’s my turn.” And with that, his mouth is back on you.

Matty licks your clit, pursing his lips and sucking. Your legs start to shake, and he brings his hand around to insert his middle finger in your hole. Your whole body goes weak, the light grip you have on the camera not helping.

Matty continues eating you, and he’s messy with it. You feel your slick on your inner thighs. His tongue goes inside of you, slowly moving in circles. He pulls off again, watching you clench around nothing before shoving his face between your thighs.

Your moans are nonsensical, bucking your hips off the couch and squirming uncontrollably. Matty spits on your cunt, moving his hand to pinch at your clit. “Fuck! Oh my God, Matty. Don’t tease.”

“God or Me, which one?” He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your clit. “You haven’t taken any photos, Miss ‘pro’.” He brings up Ross’ words from earlier, the realization causing you to smile. The smile is wiped away, though, when he runs his two fingers through your slit and puts them inside of you.

Your mind clears, and you finally take a photo. You don’t even bother to check the shot anymore, just clicking the button mindlessly. Matty grins and curls his fingers inside you. His tongue laying flat against your clit.

He sucks on you again, scissoring his fingers slowly. “Mm, please, Sir. Gonna cum, please.” You beg, hoping he won’t take it away from you. That he’ll just allow you to let go. You take another picture, the top of his hair and bottom of your abdomen most likely the only things visual.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me and I’ll give you what you really want. Fill you up with this cock.” He stutters in his words, and you realize his other hand went down to lightly stroke himself. More precum that he’s been using to lubricate himself.

You cum with a shout, that’s muffled by his lips on yours. Matty swallows your moans, sticking his tongue in your mouth instead. You can barely taste yourself on his tongue, and you ride his fingers through your orgasm. “Matty, Matty. Shit, thank you.” You pant, chest heaving.

“Good girl.” He pats the top of your head condescendingly, snickering. He stands back up to his full height. “Don’t thank me yet, ‘M just getting started with you.” His hand comes behind your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall to your lap. “Lift your hips up, love.”

You do as he says, letting him pull your panties off. He throws both scraps of fabric somewhere on the grand. His hand immediately going towards your tits. He grabs a handful, and starts kissing down your neck.

“Sir, need you now. Can’t wait anymore.” Matty’s lips attach to your collarbone. He bites you, sucking on the spot. He licks over the red mark, moving to another spot on your neck to do the same.

“You’ll fuckin’ wait if I make you. Do anything to please me, right?” You nod, head rolling to rest on your shoulder. You finally feel satisfied when Matty takes his cock, resting it just above your pussy.

He lines himself up, but never goes where you need him. He keeps bumping your clit, every time making your body twitch. He holds your hip in place, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. The only coherent thing coming out of your mouth is please, mixes of Matty and Sir.

He puts his tip inside of you, feeling you clench and then quickly pulling out. You whine, trying to move down the couch and put him back in. “Beg for me if you want it so bad, baby.” Matty is hard, and you know he must be aching as bad as you are. His cock and angry red, you know he needs to give in soon.

“Please! Please, I need it. Need you so bad.” You’re not above begging, obviously. And Matty loved it. He groaned, your wet cunt coming in contact with his dick again.

“Need what? Gotta use your words like a big, or I won’t know.” He rubbed his cock down your slit, pressing on top of your clit. He moved his hips forward slightly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

You threw your head back, “You! Your cock, Matty. Need it inside me.” You tried to close your legs, clenching around nothing and needing friction. Matty gripped your inner thighs, prying them apart and pressing them to either end of the couch.

He lined himself up with your dripping hole again, slipping inside of you slightly. “Gonna give it to you, ruin you.” With that, Matty thrusted inside of you. He started slow, half his cock inside of you. He was stretching you out so good, letting you adjust. “More,” You grit out, teeth clenching in your head.

“Was gonna give it to you gently.” He pressed more of himself inside of you, watching you shake your head. His hand came up to grip your jaw, making you look at him. “You don’t want it slow, right? Just wanna be fucked dumb.” Matty pushed the rest of his cock inside of you. Finally, you were taking him in full.

“Yes! Yes, Sir.” You feel so whole, so full. It makes you want to scream, and you bring your knuckle to your mouth and bite down. You see Matty reaching behind your head for something, and see him with the camera in hand.

He pulls halfway out of you, and the camera shutters yet again. “Look at the way you grip me, christ. Just milking my cock. He starts pounding into you again, hips slapping against yours.

Matty has a steady rhythm, it feels so fucking good for you. You keep clenching around him, and you’re close again from your other orgasm. “Faster, sir. Please.” You jut your lips out. “Wanna cum.” Matty laughs.

“Thought you wanted to be my toy, huh? Sit so pretty for me and take it? That’s dirty, you know, babe. Toys don’t get to cum.” He pouts at you in faux sympathy, eyes casting down towards you. The leather couch was making you sweat now, his gaze piercing through you.

“Please, Sir. Need it so bad, I’ll be so good. I’ll be quiet.” You whined, hips coming off the couch before Matty’s strong hand pushes you back down. Letting your head fall back, a gasp escapes your mouth again when his hand attaches to your clit.

“You’re greedy. Already came once and begging like a slut for it again.” He presses down on your clit, thrusting into you harder. He does go faster, speeding up his rhythm. Your stomach turns and you know you won’t be able to hold it.

Matty’s hand comes to rest lightly on your throat, pressing his thumb into one of the hickeys. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Let go.”

You do, with a shout so loud Matty doesn’t even bother covering it. He’s too focused on reaching his own release. He speeds up even more, riding you through your orgasm and making you overstimulated. “Fuck, fuck. Good girl. Where can I cum, baby?”

“My mouth.” You say with no hesitation, and he pulls out of you cunt. Matty moves up slightly, and pumps his cock above you. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, and the visual makes him cum. He throws his head back with a loud moan, letting his cock hit your bottom lip.

You swallow, holding his eye contact. He curses under his breath, picking the camera back up and taking a picture of you like that. Then, one with his thumb pulling on your bottom lip before he wipes the corner of your mouth with it.

You giggle. “You taste good.” You watch him step off the couch, searching for your clothes. He finds your underwear and bra, bringing it back over to you. When he realizes there’s nothing to clean you up with, he leans down and licks your cunt.

You shriek out. “Could say the same about how you taste.” He winks at you, handing you your clothes so you can get dressed. He goes to find his own and do the same. You hide your face in your hands.

“No way you’re shy, you just had my dick inside of you.” He rolls his eyes, throwing his shirt back on. Tone full of amusement and disbelief.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be vulgar.” You joke, strapping back into your leggings. The anxiety about Lexi and his band mates is hitting you now, but there’s no going back. “Thank you.”

He looks over, a wide grin on his face. Matty grabs your shoulders. “No, thank you. Best photoshoot of my career.” He walks over to the door, and you take long strides to catch up with him.

You smooth a hand over your hair and straighten out your clothes. It’s no use though, because when you open up the door and walk into the hall with Matty, they all know.

Lexi and the guys all stood there, knowing smiles on their faces. George even starts laughing when you both walk out. Adam’s head hung with his shoulders shaking, and Ross a smirk on his face.

“Think Matty got the all inclusive session, then?” George says, causing the rest of the group to burst out in laughter. You shrink in on yourself, looking over to see Matty’s grin. Lexi shoots you a look. A timid smile, but her eyes say ‘we’ll talk later.’

Matty giggles, humming. “Mhmm, don’t be jealous.” He shrugs looking between Lexi and you. “Contact us again for another shoot, then? We love your work, and would love to come back.” His eyes go to your face for the last bit, and you nod.

They all say their goodbyes, exchanging handshakes and stares. When they walk out, Matty catches your eye again through the window. Waving, and pulling out a cigarette.

…

Later, when you’re cleaning up the studio, you find a folded piece of paper under the front desk. A 10 digit phone number, a small heart and the words Matty scrawled under it.

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