#I know you can't see it's steven but yes it's steven

[drunkkenobi]

Hi bb, ty for the prompt to write my thoughts!

So I can't get on tumblr at work anymore unless I go outside to get good signal on my phone so I have only been privy to what's going on here today from friends on discord. So maybe I'm missing some nuance or the what my mutuals think and I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to speak plainly.

This is the only way Watcher is going to survive.

The view counts have been steady through Mystery Files season 2 but they aren't, like, astronomical. A video with a million views nets a channel between $10,000 - $30,000. Guys. That's nothing for Watcher. They have to pay each of their 25+ employees a salary with insurance and benefits and for everything else their channel requires. Steven said in the video today that a season of Ghost Files costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don't think everyone is hearing that part and understanding how much money that is, especially compared to many other YouTubers they watch. I'm not an expert on other YouTubers but I look at the Sims people I watch. They are successful with views in the hundred k range because they are a company of one. Themselves and maybe paying a freelancer to help edit their videos. For one person, the stakes are lower and the potential for profit is higher! Especially for gamers that are filming in their homes. YouTubers like this, making niche content on the cheap, are who is going to make it in YouTube now.

Watcher is none of those things. They have, from day one, wanted to make high quality unscripted content. All of their shows are shows. They aren't just "Ryan and Shane do [thing]" or "Steven eats [whatever]". They are shows, like ones you see on cable TV or any streamer. And shows are not cheap. Unscripted is cheaper, sure, than scripted. But that doesn't mean cheap. Especially not with the sheer production value we've seen on all their shows, in particular Ghost Files (hundreds of thousands of dollars). That is how much something like Ghost Adventures costs, which is on Travel Channel, an actual TV network that puts up all those costs.

So. That's why Watcher has to pivot to survive.

I think it's a great idea, personally. And yes, I am in a position where I can financially afford it no problem, which I know is a privilege! I am very lucky in that regard. And I understand that many people are upset they won't see the boys as easily on YouTube anymore. That is valid! But they have openly said they are totally fine with password sharing and I think that's a great way to cut down on costs for some folks. Also right now there's a great deal on the yearly sub for early subscribers. $40 for a year is cheaper than any streaming service and it doesn't go to anyone other than Watcher.

I understand that people feel hurt and blindsided, but I think Watcher is also feeling this too. They have been so excited about this and being able to make whatever they want without having to worry about sponsors and now they're mostly seeing anger directed their way. Especially at Steven. Steven is not rich. You know who's rich? David Zaslav, a man who is single-handedly ruining Warner Brothers and making himself a billionaire while he's at it. THAT is the kind of person we should be directing our anger at streaming prices and quality of the media landscape at. Not one small business that is just trying to survive so they can continue paying their employees.

And one more thing. I've seen folks saying they'd rather watch more ads than pay and while I get that, that's not going to help Watcher make what they want. YouTube famously demonetizes videos with swears which is why I can't watch a video with DRAG QUEENS without every other line being bleeped and Watcher has been so good about not bleeping their content because they know we would hate it. And YouTube does this because of advertisers. Advertisers only want to appeal to the most broad of audiences so that means not supporting anything slightly left of center. Having to deal with ads sucks from the creator perspective and does not help them in the long run.

Anyway, this is all a bit rambling, but these are my thoughts on WatcherTV. I'm extremely excited to subscribe and make them make more Weird Wonderful World. I hope to see you all there.

#watcher #steven lim #ryan bergara #shane madej

[mrcspectr]

Head cannon: Jake did ask the girl out at the museum for Steven. He's also the reason no one at the museum knows his name right. He's aware of Steven and Marc, but because he doesn't get to talk to them and they aren't aware of him, he's like, "Yeah sure. I'm Stevie. Totally work here. Yup. Name's uh....Scotty? Sure that'll do."

He's doing his best but damn it this isn't his deal. He just wants the bucket of sunshine to be happy and he wants the angsty one to take a break. Fuck it, two gold fish. Now you two can be happy.

Also I 100% believe that Jake made an appearance at the village in episode one. Marc fell out the window and knocked himself out and then bucket o' sunshine is in danger! He'll just slip in real quick and kill a few people...Drive the cupcake truck all fancy. Gotta get Stevie back to his date. Damn it Marc, you are ruining everything!

He's just gotta be a little protective in that way, ya know? They don't notice the things about Steven that Jake notices. His innocence, his desire to talk about the things he adores and to just be loved. How hard that he tries. Steven deserves people that accept him wholeheartedly for who he is, and Jake sees that better than most. As the one who fronts the least, I feel like he'd be a quiet observer and catch on to details others might not, and if those same people don't see Steven the way he does? Fuck it, they don't deserve to even know his name.

#i mean that's the way i think he'd see it #it's sort of a fatal flaw though because like #his abrasive attitude might be what people are so adverse to when they see steven #they don't understand that it's jake talking ya know #also yes when you said 'he's doing his best but damn it this isn't his deal' #like before all the talk of memories and the past i just feel like he's exasperated with them all the time #it's dumb and possibly makes no sense but in my head it's like #steven = the youngest #marc = the middle child #jake = the oldest #i won't elaborate and tbh can't #anonymous #asks #mk meta

[steventhusiast]

STWG daily prompt 3/12/23

prompt: "what the hell happened to you?"

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

Eddie hasn't heard from Steve for forty eight hours when the phone rings, and he jumps for it. He hopes (and maybe prays to the god he doesn't believe in) that it's Steve. That he just... Fell asleep when he got home from his shift at Scoops and that's why he didn't call when he got home two days ago. That he got distracted by the kids the next morning and that's why he didn't call Eddie one day ago.

"Hello?" He says into the phone, trying not to sound too frantic.

But as soon as he finds out who's calling, a rock settles in his stomach.

"This is Hawkins General Hospital, am I speaking with Wayne Munson?"

He's silent for a moment. Fuck. Something's happened to Steve. He debates lying, because Wayne left for work literally five minutes ago, and he needs to know what happened, and what if Steve's dead?-

"No. This is Eddie Munson, ma'am, Wayne just left for work. Is- Is everything okay?" He closes his eyes as he speaks, tips his head forward to lightly bang it against the wall of the trailer. Why didn't he just lie? Now they're never going to tell him.

"Alright, one moment.." The lady on the phone says, and Eddie hears some papers rustling and then a sigh, "Oh, Edward Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're listed as another emergency contact, so I can tell you this as well." Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief, but feels tears start to well up as he imagines what she's about to say.

"This is in regards to Steven Harrington, who is alive and stable but quite badly injured. That's all I can say over the phone. Before he can be discharged, if his next of kin don't respond, we'll need to talk through patient care with you or Wayne Munson, alright?"

"Yes I- He can have visitors, right?" He's already looking frantically around the room to see where the keys to his van are.

"Yes. Visiting hours don't end for another two hours yet."

Eddie's never hung up a phone so fast.

-

When he finally gets to Steve's room (after an argument with the receptionist who was hesitant to give him the room number), he practically throws open the door in his haste, and is... Surprised at the amount of people in the room.

He's zeroed in on Steve before he properly registers them though. As soon as he processes the state of his boyfriend, everyone else in the room practically disappear from his mind.

"Oh, Stevie." He whispers, walking over to the bed.

Steve seems to be either asleep or passed out, and he looks.. Horrible. One eye is swollen shut, there's a bandage over his nose like it's broken, and his bottom lip is swollen with a (freshly stitched up) wound trailing down from it an inch or so. And that's just his face-- Eddie can't even see the rest of him right now.

"What the hell happened to you?" He mumbles to himself, hesitantly reaching out to rest a hand on Steve's forearm.

It's then that he's rudely reminded of the presence of others in the room.

"More like what the hell is Eddie Munson doing in Steve Harrington's hospital room?" A familiar voice asks, and he turns to see Robin Buckley sat at Steve's side. A little more turning around and he sees Dustin, who he recognises from pictures, and a little girl who can't be older than ten.

Robin looks confused and suspicious, and like she's about to interrogate him until she sees the genuine distress (and tears) in his eyes. She softens a little, and lets Eddie ask what he's been dying to ask for over forty eight hours now.

"Is he okay?" He sniffles harshly in attempt to get rid of the waver in his voice.

"He will be. Pretty bad concussion though, and- No, wait. Seriously, why are you here?"

Eddie's about to make something up, when Steve rouses with a groan. Everyone's quiet as he squints open his good eye and groans some more at the lights.

"Wha's- Wha's goin' on?" He slurs, and Eddie feels the tears return. Steve sounds as fucked up as he looks, and- shit, Robin said concussion? Steve's already had one too many of those.

"Hey, it's okay Stevie. You know where you are?" Eddie asks gently, opting to ignore everyone else once again if they're going to stay quiet.

"Eds?" Steve's face scrunches up in a way that looks painful, and he slowly looks over in Eddie's direction with eyes that are definitely too dilated.

Eddie starts rubbing his thumb back and forth where he's still gently resting a hand on Steve's forearm. He hopes it's comforting rather than adding to Steve's pain.

"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."

read part 2 here

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #stwgdailyprompt #dailydrabble #mywriting

[cantheykillmacbeth]

Could Goncharov kill Macbeth?

Okay, I'm really glad you brought this up, since this is a topic that has... kind of come up before on this blog (See: Steven Universe, Zagreus from Hades) but not exactly so I think this is a great moment to address it:

I think that if being a C-section baby counted towards the Unconventional Birth Clause for MacDuff, then it should count for it when a character is delivered posthumously. Since Goncharov is this sort of situation, with his mother Viktoria having died during childbirth (the wording implies that she died slightly before childbirth, but either way it is explicitly said she died in the hospital), he would count towards the Unconventional Birth Clause.

As for the Gender Clause, I know someone is going to bring this up, so let me make this clear: Goncharov saying "I can no longer look in the mirror and see a man" in the balcony scene with Andrey is just him dramatically saying that he is disgusted with who he has become at that point in the movie. He's not saying that he's trans, he's saying that he's a monster/inhuman. You can headcanon this however you want, but the fact of the matter is that in canon, he's just saying he can't live with himself after what he did to Antonio. So, no, Goncharov does not apply for the Gender Clause.

So, long story short: Yes, Lo Straniero aka Goncharov from the eponymous Goncharov (1973) could kill Macbeth!

He applies for the Unconventional Birth Clause.

Thank you for your submission!

#asks #unconventional birth clause #debatable character #goncharov #goncharov 1973 #unreality #maybe my favorite submission on this blog so far. #going right up there on the wall next to baby bowler and lighting mcqueen for the cantheykillmacbeth hall of fame

[princesachicana]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 pt.2

a/n: it's finally here!! how long has it been?! first things first i want to say thank you to everyone who's been rooting for this fic!! I honestly hit a huge writers block and had no motivation to write!! but all the sweet messages from people saying they enjoyed my work has made me so happy!!! SO ONCE AGAIN THANK U AND I HOPE U ENJOY!! I tried my EXTRA HARDEST SO I HOPE THIS GIVES U THE CLOSURE YALL WANTED I LOVE YOU SM! ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY MISTAKES!! I JUST WANTED TO FINALLY POST FOR U GUYS!!

It took a lot out of you not to stay in bed the next morning. The softness of your bed wrapped around your body gives you some sort of comfort. But of course, staying in bed would only make you feel worse. At least if you got up it would be easier to fake happiness. To no surprise, your phone was flooded with missed calls and texts from both Steven and Belly. Of course, you only responded to belly telling her that you'll explain your reasoning for ditching your "date" with Steven later.

Why did Steven even bother leaving you so many texts last night? If you were such a bother to him? Annoying. That's what he thinks you are. And what if you never heard those disgusting things he said about you? and went on the date with him? Would he just continue to lead you on?

Steven: waiting for you by the pool.

Steven: ur late

Steven: u look pretty even though i can't even see you. pls im starving

Steven: is belly holding you hostage?

Steven: it's been 18 minutes cmon.

Steven: the guys are going to laugh at me for being stood up I'm getting nervous.

Steven: did something happen are you okay?

Steven: belly is worried as well lmk.

You laughed at the messages blinking back angry tears that threatened to fall. Gosh! he was so fake. You could only imagine how relieved he must have been to not hang out with you.

Belly: have funnnn

Belly: no funny business!!

Belly: wait where did you go?!

Belly: Steven keeps pacing back and forth waiting for u

Belly: what’s going on?

Belly: just let us know ur okay

Belly: y/n ??!?!??

Y/n: hey, something came up last night sorry I had you worried. can u come over?

Belly arrived 20 minutes later. You spent the time together watching reruns of your favorite Disney show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Belly asked after a while, noticing something was bothering you.

“I overheard the guys talking about me last night.” You fiddled with the throw blanket that was on your lap. “At first it was just them teasing Steven about our date or whatever.” You took a deep breath upset that you felt like crying. “But Steven only agreed to hang out with me…” You paused blinking back tears. Belly moved closer immediately pulling you into a hug. “He only agreed to hang out with me…so I could stop annoying him! I honestly don’t know what I did wrong?” You pulled away from belly’s arms wiping your tears that had fallen.

“Maybe I was too forward? but I just wanted to see if he felt the same way…it was dumb.” You shrugged. Belly shook her head “Nope my brother is a fucking idiot!” she stood up taking your hand in hers and pulling you up. “I won’t let you mope around all day because of him!” You sighed “I don’t even have a choice do I?” Belly laughed shaking her head. “What do you say we go to the boardwalk? Taylor’s coming in today too” she smirked.

“And maybe someone would be happy to see you I don’t know” she whispered with a grin. “What are you talking about?” You questioned. “Well you know Xavier..the one that works the lemonade stand?” You nodded your head yes. “Well, he totally has the hots for you.” You cringed at her word choice. “He does not!” You laughed. “Oh, he does! you were too busy ogling my brother last summer you didn’t notice him ogling you.” she poked your side teasingly.

“Now let’s go!”

~

“Stay still before I poke your eye out” Taylor groans finishing up your eyeliner. You were now at the Fisher’s beach house getting ready to go down to the boardwalk. You laugh pulling away “I think that’s enough…if you make my eyeliner any thicker I’d cry!” Taylor playfully pushes your head away. “Sorryyyyy i want to make Xavier fall to his knees when he sees you!” You frown when she brings that name up. Sure, Xavier was a nice guy…and he was cute…but he wasn’t Steven.

You’d always imagined Steven being your first everything. First kiss, first date, first time. It was something you’d dreamt of all this time.

“Yeah…im going to get a snack before we head out do y’all want anything?” You ask heading towards the door. Both girls gave you a sympathetic smile shaking their heads no.

As you reached the kitchen you stopped in your tracks. Steven turned from looking into the fridge. You made eye contact for about 5 seconds before you beelined for the cabinets. “Hey,” Steven broke the silence as you pulled out a granola bar. You felt the warmth of his stare and turned finding him now leaning against the counter. “Hey…” you whispered looking anywhere but his face. “So you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Steven crossed his arms around his chest.

“Just didn’t feel up for it anymore ..” You shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s it?” Steven scoffed. “Yeah…that’s it” you whispered about to walk away. “What’s going on? I’m like so confused right now.” Steven gently gripped your arm. “Nothing just forget it…it’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” you rolled your eyes. “And what makes you think that?” He muttered eyes scouring your face for the truth. “Um, I don’t know let’s see …you quite literally ignored me this entire week!” You responded sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean to. I had a lot of shit on my mind alright?” Steven uttered softly. It almost felt genuine. The words he spoke just last night almost became liquid. “Yeah like what?” You whispered eventually looking into his eyes. “You can tell me..” You spoke gently stepping into him closer. No matter how much he’s hurt you. Steven would always make you melt. “Nothing let’s just forget about it…he pulled away opening up the fridge once again.”

It was like a switch was flipped. How he went right back to that cold shoulder he had been giving you all week. “You're a fucking asshole” You spewed, already ready to walk out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?” He abruptly spoke again. “The boardwalk…you know? so I won’t annoy you here.” With that, you left a confused and remorseful Steven behind.

~

“Hey, look y/n why don’t you go get a lemonade?” Belly suggested with an eyebrow raise. Shit. you were hoping they forgot about that. “Guys I don’t feel up for this..” You pouted looking between both Taylor and Belly. “Noooo go talk to him! you look hot as fuck.” Taylor gently grabbed your face giving you a mini pep talk.

“What if Xavier wants to hang out..I cant just ditch you guys?!?” You were stalling and they knew it. “We’ll be here waiting for you” Belly smiled. “Just try to have fun alright? But hey if you don’t really want to do it …we’ll back off” She narrowed her eyes at Taylor. “No…I’ll go” You laughed giving both of them a hug “Thank you guys.i really appreciate this.” You’d definitely still be moping around in your room about Steven if it wasn’t for Belly and Taylor. They both wished you luck as you headed straight for the lemonade stand.

As soon as he spotted you. The biggest smile spread across his face. “y/n? damn, it’s been so long” Xavier greeted you with a hug. “It’s only been a year!” You playfully ruffled his curly hair that sat atop his head. “That’s way too long…I enjoy seeing pretty girls year-round.” He spoke smoothly, he definitely knew how to talk to girls. “Shut up” You laughed pushing him away with not that much force.

“I have an hour lunch break…you up for arcade games?”

~

“So…you seeing anyone?” Xavier asked as he ate a scoop of his mint chocolate chip ice cream. You thought about it for a moment. Technically no you weren’t seeing anyone. But you knew you were still hung up on Steven. A day at the boardwalk with Xavier wouldn’t change that. “It’s complicated…I guess” Xavier sighed “I've been there…it’s rough” You nodded you were curious as to what he meant but you didn’t want to be nosey.

“Hey, look they have street fighter..” Xavier smirked. “Want to go a couple of rounds?” You nodded immediately pulling him towards the game. “Mhhm loser buys the winner a funnel cake!” You suggested with a chuckle. “Ouuu im so down y/n” Xavier squeezed your hand that held his quickly striding towards the arcade game.

Just two more steps, Just two more steps and you’d be fine. The rowdy yelling completely threw you off. You stopped in place looking behind you where the voices were coming from. You had no time to move out of the way, no time to prevent this from happening.No time to stop the trio of boys that you knew all too well. Suddenly a body collided with Xavier, the force immediately making your intertwined hands lose. “Dude, what the fuck?” Xavier groaned. It was then that you snapped back into reality. Eyes wide when you noticed Xavier’s ice cream now all over his shirt.

“What’s up? how are we doing?” That voice full of humor made you scoff. Steven stood tall a smile on his face. You hated that it kind of made your heart flutter. “Steven, what is your problem?” You gestured towards Xavier’s now ice cream stained shirt. “He’ll be fine y/n it’ll wash out.” Steven laughed, but once he noticed you didn’t find this funny at all he frowned. “I’m sorry man, I just came over to say what’s up..” You ignored Steven’s apology not believing he meant it. “Hey want me to help you get cleaned up?” You asked Xavier voice full of concern.

“No.I got it…I’ll see y’all later.” Xavier spoke nonchalantly as he walked away. When he was out of eyesight you brushed past steven heading out the door.

“Y/n” Steven immediately followed behind you. His long legs make it easier for him to catch up with you. “You embarrassed me” You stopped outside the arcade, letting him pull you to the side. “Embarrassed? sorry to interrupt your little date” Steven scoffed. “It's not a date we were just hanging out, why do you care?” You groaned running your hands down your face. “Maybe because just yesterday you were supposed to hang out with me?” Steven spoke definitively.

“Oh my god, just earlier you agreed to forget about it,” you said with an eye roll. “It was dumb, stop acting like you care just go home Steven I did you a favor.” He shook his head “What are you talking about right now?” Steven pulled you in closer, one of his hands placed on your waist. The other coming to the side of your face, willing you to look at him.

“I heard you.i heard everything,” you spoke up voice hoarse. Steven’s heart carried pain at the tears that stood brimming in your eyes. The realization was clear when he made the connection. “And you know..who cares what Jeremiah and Conrad think! what hurt the most was you.” You shrieked. You hated that you were crying in front of him. You hated that when he hauled you against his chest you felt secure.

“I'm sorry baby... I'm sorry” Steven sounded voice vulnerable. Leaving kisses atop your head. “Why would you say that?” you sobbed breaking down in front of the boy who caused it. “I didn't mean any of it” Steven brought your face between his hands once again. “But you said it..it still fucking hurts Steven.”

You wiped your face getting prepared to pull away and walk back home.

“Wait, please let me talk to you.” Steven begged. “okay” you replied being prepared to cry all over again. “My head has been all fucked up..and that isn't an excuse I know” Steven looked down as if he couldn't construct the next words. “Please don't shut me out.” you pleaded gently. “I want you...i have all this time.” Steve confessed for the first time.

“—And I didn't want to fuck anything up we've..been so close all our lives if I ever messed that up I would never forgive myself.” It's as if you were dreaming, the boy you loved stood in front of you disclosing his feelings for you. “And what? this whole week of you acting cold towards me, were you trying to avoid your feelings?” Steven bobbed his head “Yes, if I lied to myself it would make lying to everyone else easier because the fucking truth is I want you so bad” You didn't tell him but at that moment you forgave him.

“And you called me the annoying one?” You giggled pushing on his chest gently. “Right now we could have been making out on the beach….but noo you had to be a brooding boy” Steven tickled your side, causing you to squirm in his arms. “Yeah, my fault can I kiss you now? been practically wanting to my whole life.” Steven threw his head back fake pouting setting one hand over his chest. You figured you'd throw his words right back at him. “You're so desperately desperate”

Steven smirked “Yeah for you? I am” Those words welcomed a whole lot of beautiful feelings. At that moment is when Steven bent down bringing his lips down onto your own. As your lips moved together, butterflies erupted in your belly. You smiled against his lips when you both needed a breath. “Hey, by the way, your not off the hook.. I'm still sort of pissed at you.” You declared pointing a finger into his chest.

“Yeah, I figured” He laughed wrapping his arms even tighter around you. “How about I make it up to you this whole week? I'm taking you out on dates…ill even get on my knees if I have to. I'm going to follow you around like a puppy.” Steven rambled on. You laughed out loud covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh, it's funny?” Steven raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Yeah, you're such a loser.” You joked.

Before Steven could respond you tugged him into another kiss. Perhaps everything wasn't one hundred percent fixed. But you and Steven were finally here together. You and Steven were finally in each other's arms that's all that mattered. You’d figure out the rest together.

tags 🤍: @gillybear17 @snowsharkk @tesssastle @conradsupporterr @alyssa-cabrera @eranthisphiny @xoxoloverb @lostaurorax @lanisdreams @alexzluvz @lalaland-notfound @liltimmyst @unsaidjaelineose @buckys2thicc @lilygreennn @t8lzw @medusaslilsister @1-800-stilinski @yazmi710 @j-brielmalfoy @ashcannotwrite @colbysbrocks @exonct07 @multilover19 @mimisparkle12

@littlefreaksatellite @vintagebitc @lexi-2004 @melllinaa @xcallmetaniax @brizzlessizzler @haroldpotterson @livinginaglasspalace @delicatekidpeanut @queenanababy

@drinkawinchester @sarahbutnot @salvatoremikaelson54 @furiouscopsherduniversity @marrigold-2002 @angeliquelunasstuff @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @daphnen21 @ietss @imanaforever @itsreynasworld @she-is-a-happy-girl @joeybandthings

@kateisintrouble @stvrdustalexx @fictionisjustbetter @whezzy223

@conradssupporterr @clubmeredith13 @fatduck45 @trampstampz @fangirl-kimora

@just-let-me-fangirl-in-peace @reenfluffmarshmallow @kaz-mf-brekker

@yazmunson @bookg1rl @hockey-lover86

@just-a-pink-lady @moo-b1tch

#tsitp series #tsitp x you #tsitp fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty fanfic #belly conklin #steven conklin x reader #steven conklin imagine #steven conklin tsitp #tsitp #prime video tsitp #prime video #Conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

#byler #Part 2 I fucking guess. #Wasn't planning on making a Part 2 but here we are. #I seriously just want you guys to feel safe. #I'm not naive. I do not say any of this shit lightly. #But I've been around the block long enough to know what queerbaiting looks like and this ain't it. Promise. #Will's already been confirmed as in love with Mike for fuck's sake. You don't think the other half of the equation's gonna follow through? #There has only ever been one other situation where I've gone 'Okay this is going in gay places' with no doubt whatsoever without being told #And that was with Daja in Tamora Pierce's 'Will of the Empress' when I read it at like sixteen or whatever #and she wound up having whole-ass fuckin' gay sex. #I was right then and I'm right now. I swear.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

You guys, I can't believe how much the first part of this story blew up!! Whaaat? I truly was not expecting that! Ya'll are amazing, thank you so much! Hope you enjoy part 2. Caution: I adore a good slow burn.

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: Shirtless Rooster? Twice? I think that's it.. oh and yes, I will be shamelessly exploiting the one bed trope. Also: swearing. But I probably had you at shirtless Rooster, amirite?

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Steven is,” Bradley pauses, trying to think of an appropriate word, “underwhelming.”

You snort as the two of you make your way out of the restaurant. You feel Bradley’s eyes on you, waiting for you to expand on the subject, but you have no interest in reminiscing about the shittiest relationship you’ve ever been in, so you just hop down the steps and pick up your pace as you take the little path toward the chalets on the water.

“Did you date for long?” he asks, taking bigger strides to catch up with you.

“Long enough,” you respond.

Bradley purses his lips. “I see we’re in a talking mood.”

“I just want to get this long weekend over with,” you grumble.

He nods, sticking his hands into his pockets.

You make it all the way to your chalet in silence. Bradley opens the door and gestures for you to go inside. You walk in and flick on the light and your heart drops into your stomach as you stare at the one bed in the middle of the room. Behind you, Bradley slowly closes the door. You look back to see him glancing between you and the bed.

Your eyes meet and you’re pretty sure you know exactly what he’s thinking: that he didn’t sign up for this shit. “We forgot to get our bags from the car,” you say, as if you’ve hardly noticed the elephant in the room.

“I’ll go grab them,” he says, also choosing to ignore the glaring complication in your, thus far, flawless scheme.

He leaves and you turn to glare at the bed as though it’s a cruel joke and you have no sense of humor. You wonder why the idea of sleeping in the same bed with Bradley is distressing you enough to make you this uncomfortable. You’ve shared beds with friends before.

You persistently overlook the memory of Bradley’s hand on your back and the subsequent butterflies assailing your stomach. Those butterflies could have easily been attributed to surprise and you don’t plan on hosting them again anytime soon. Certainly not in Bradley’s presence. You just barely got the guy to agree to entertain a fake relationship, there is no way he’d ever consider something real with you. Besides, you don’t like him like that.

Bradley returns with your bags. He drops them on the floor near the door and quickly says, “I’ll take the couch.”

You look over at the two-seater near the door skeptically. “You won’t fit on that,” you say.

“I’ll make it work,” he says, digging into his bag for a toothbrush.

You imagine Bradley scrunched up on the tiny sofa and wince. “I’ll take the couch,” you say.

Bradley straightens his back and gives you an unwavering look. “No deal,” he responds. He shrugs off his Hawaiian shirt and walks past you toward the bathroom.

You change into your pajama shorts and top while Bradley brushes his teeth and gets ready for bed. He walks out of the bathroom and pulls off his tank top, tossing it into his bag as he heads for the couch. You stare at his bare back for a split second before tearing your gaze away and biting into your bottom lip as the image of his back muscles engrains itself into your memory for all of time.

You let out a shallow breath, reaching into your bag for your face wash, and then you practically run into the bathroom, doing your best not to watch Bradley remove his pants before sitting down onto the couch.

You brush your teeth while wondering why you’re all of a sudden possibly attracted to Bradley Bradshaw. Sure, the guy is hot. But you’ve never seen him as anything more than a friend – a slightly annoying one, at that. On the other hand, you’ve also never seen him shirtless until two minutes ago, and that changes things. Sort of. You would never have asked Bradley to pretend to be your boyfriend had you had feelings for him.

You spit out the toothpaste, your mind swarming as you try to rationalize Bradley’s unforeseen sex appeal. It’s fine, really. So, you find him moderately good-looking. You’re only human. And this is all temporary, probably prompted by your dedication to the role of being Bradley Bradshaw’s girlfriend. Meanwhile, the image of Bradley’s rippling back muscles hijacks each and every one of your thoughts.

You walk out of the bathroom and quickly slip into the bed, paranoid that Bradley might sense something off about your behavior. The faster you fall asleep, the faster all of this will be over. You close your eyes.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bradley calls from the couch.

You turn your head to look over at him.

“Forget something?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“What?” you ask, your heart beating at the sound of his relaxed voice as he settles into the cushions of the couch. You’re not thinking about the thin blanket pulled over his chest or trying to imagine what’s underneath.

“The light?”

“Oh,” you say. “Right.”

“I’ll get it,” he says, lifting himself up. He stands, letting the blanket slip off to reveal his chiselled torso and black boxer briefs.

You hold your breath and avert your gaze as he walks over to the light switch, swallowing uneasily as your face heats up. “Thanks,” you say as he walks back to the couch in the darkness.

…

You wake up to find Bradley sleeping with one leg hanging right off the couch and the other bent in half and upright. The blanket has mostly slipped off to the floor save for a small corner that still covers his lower abdomen and hips. You cringe at the awkward position of his body, watching him sympathetically for a couple of moments. Then, you decide to grab the both of you some coffee and breakfast.

You change quickly and head out without waking him. Returning with two bagels and two coffees, you struggle to hold everything in one hand as you attempt to open the door. Before you can get a proper grip on the handle, you hear music coming from the other side of the chalet. You walk around the porch to see Bradley lounging in one of the chairs on the deck, looking out onto the water.

He turns to look at you and smiles. “Wondered where you went,” he says.

You return his smile. “Brought you a coffee,” you say, handing him a cup.

“Well, aren’t you just the perfect girlfriend?” he says, smirking. He nods at the other lounge chair. “Join me.”

You sit down after handing Bradley his bagel and start to unwrap yours.

“Hand me your coffee for a sec,” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Why?” you ask, slowly extending your arm out so he can lift the cup out of your hand.

Bradley takes the cup, then reaches over and grabs the edge of your lounge chair, pulling it toward him. You let out a startled yelp and he chuckles. “You were too far,” he says.

You glance over his face, laughing uneasily, before returning your attention to the bagel in your hand. “How did you sleep?” you ask.

“Not bad.”

You scoff. “Yeah, right. You looked so uncomfortable this morning.”

He shrugs. “It was fine.”

You look out at the glassy water and sigh. “Just a couple more days,” you say. “Bachelorette tonight, wedding tomorrow. And then home after brunch the next day.”

Bradley nods. “Easy.”

You give him a skeptical look. “At least it’s beautiful here,” you muse, scanning the cliffside across the lake.

Bradley looks over at you, squinting his eyes because the sun is coming up right over your head. “It is,” he agrees.

You take a sip of your coffee to hide the flush in your face when his gaze lingers on you for a little longer than usual. “My sister said you’re invited to the Bachelor party. Are you going to go?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

You smile at him gratefully. “Thank you for doing this,” you say.

He leans back in his lounge chair and closes his eyes. “My pleasure.”

You chuckle. “My offer still stands. Anything you want, Bradshaw,” you say. “Feel free to get creative.”

He peeks up at you with one eye, smirking. “Careful what you wish for.”

…

You spend the day swimming and sunbathing with Bradley, whose sculpted physique you try to ignore despite his numerous trips into and out of the water. It’s late afternoon and almost time for the two of you to head back to your chalet and get ready for the evening out. Bradley takes one last dip and, upon emerging from the lake a glistening spectacle of a man, starts brushing his hand through his hair to shake out the water. He makes his way toward you and you bring your hand up to your forehead and furrow your brow as though you’re thoroughly focused on the book in your lap when, in reality, you’ve been reading the same sentence for the past twenty minutes and you still don’t have a clue what the fuck it says.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him bend down to grab his towel from the chair. He starts drying his face and hair, completely disregarding his dripping torso.

“You’re getting water on my book, Bradshaw,” you say, not looking up at him.

He stops wiping the back of his neck and looks over at you. Then, he nudges your knee with his leg and you flinch as his soaking swim shorts brush against your thigh.

“Bradley!” you scream, leaping out of your seat.

He laughs. “Aww, c’mon, Y/N,” he calls after you as you back away. He extends his arms out. “You look like you need a hug.”

“Bradley, I spent the last half an hour drying off! Stay away!” you yelp as he chases after you through the sand.

You stop short at the edge of the water, holding your arm out as he nears you slowly, a mischievous smirk on his face. You shake your head at him threateningly and, by chance, notice movement to your right. You glance over to the row of chalets near the beach and see your mother and aunt having tea on their balcony a few hundred yards away. Your cries must have attracted their attention because they are both looking in your direction.

Bradley follows your gaze and then looks back at you sheepishly. He shrugs and you know exactly what he’s thinking without him having to say a word. You have an audience now, so you have to hug him. He’s practically dry at this point and, were you actually his girlfriend, there would be no reason for you not to.

You step forward tentatively and his smile falters slightly as he watches you approach. The slight breeze coming off the water that covers your skin in goosebumps makes you suddenly painfully aware that you’re wearing the tiniest bikini known to man. You shiver slightly, biting your bottom lip when the two of you meet halfway and, for some reason, you’re distinctly conscious of all the spit in your mouth, gulping it down with much more effort than swallowing spit should require.

Bradley lifts his arm, putting his hand behind your shoulder to gently pull you closer. You bring your arms in – partly because you need a barrier between your bodies that’s thicker than the fabric of your bathing suit, partly because you’re cold as fuck – and you lean into his chest cautiously. Bradley wraps his other arm around your back and rests his chin on top of your head as you lay your cheek over his collarbone.

You endeavor to steady your breathing as your heart runs a marathon inside your ribcage, while Bradley’s soft skin warms your body.

“You’re not cold,” you mutter into his shoulder.

“Why would I be cold?” Bradley chuckles.

“You were wet,” you say.

“Are you cold?” he asks, starting to run his hand up and down your arm before you even respond.

You nod into his neck and he tightens his arms around your body. You sink into him slightly, relishing in his warmth, before finally pulling away.

Bradley gives you a tight smile and then turns to walk back to your beach chairs and collect your things. You let out a shaky sigh and then look up to your mother’s balcony. She’s still watching you, so you lift your hand to give her a small wave.

Your aunt enthusiastically waves back.

Read Part 3

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[m2m-author]

The Right Groom

I've been helping my best friend plan his wedding for the last few months. The theme was 'Anyone But You', and at first glance it seemed to be an easy theme, with our powers and all, but the wedding is a month away and we still can't decide the body.

He accepts my call, and a stranger answers.

"Hey, man, what's up?" he says, the voice uncharacteristically chipper for a voice that deep. I immediately recognized that as Nathan, my best friend. 

He spins and fixes his bowtie, the man grinning. "What do you think?" He gives the man's bulge a stroke.

"I don't know," I say. "He's cute, but I'm not sure he's groom material, you know what I mean?"

He sighs, "Yeah, I guess. I really don't know what to do! Steven already chose a body—before you ask, he won't tell me—and he smirked real hard, so I knew he chose someone good."

"Hey, hey, don't worry." Nathan, still in the stranger's body, was looking at me with brows furrowed and eyes shining. "You spot any more possible choices?"

He perks up a bit. "I actually do." He moves out of frame for a second. Even as his best friend, he still won't let me know the way he transforms. Geeze.

The phone moves rapidly for a moment until we reach his bathroom. Nathan has transformed into another stranger. He tries to smile, but only sighs in frustration. "What do you think?"

He flexes his arms and twirls the man's mustache. "I can see it. He's handsome. It's still up to you," I say.

"Come on," he whines, and it's amusing seeing this mature body acting like that. "My mind's been blank for months. I need help."

"Okay. Don't Steven like hairy guys? Maybe you can find someone like that?"

"Wait! Check this out." He starts taking off the suit, revealing the body's furry chest and belly. The body's cock is long, and Steven doesn't shy away from stroking it.

With one hand on the phone, he strokes his chest, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of the body. He moans, the body's voice smooth. I grin at him, my hand reaching down to massage my bulge.

"Oh god," he moans, pinching his nipples. "I think I want to fuck him in this body. Or maybe he fucks me."

He lets his mouth hang open, staring at his reflection in appreciation. "Jesus Christ. I wonder who he is in real life."

"I can call you back," I say with a grin.

He smiles sheepishly, the body's pearly white teeth on full display. "Right. Sorry. So this one's definitely in the runner up, right?"

I nod. "Looks pretty good to me. His voice is hot too. You got another body?"

"Yes! Glad you reminded me. I saw this man in the mall a few days ago. I couldn't resist."

He sends me a photo of a bearded man taking a photograph in what seemed to be a bathroom.

"I didn't get to stay for too long," he continues, but the man's hairy, and he got a pretty thick dick. I'd love to ram that dick down Steven's throat." Nathan, still in the hairy man's body, sticks out his tongue and bobs his head up and down.

I laugh. "Maybe that could be your honeymoon body?"

He grins. "Just look at this thing! Even just looking at it makes me want to fuck somebody with it. There were too many people in the mall, but I did pee using that thing. Could barely hold it with his hands."

He sends me a dick pick, and sure enough, it's a monstrous 10-incher, as thick as a beer can.

"Goddamn," I say, breathless. I had a pretty modest cock, but even though I've spent my time in countless dudes with giant cocks, it always made me wonder how they're able to keep to keep that monster hidden.

He stared at the phone for a few more seconds, uncaring, as the hairy man's mouth started drooling. A faint thought of wanting to catch that saliva passes through my mind. He shakes out of his reverie and says, "Wait a minute. Have you found your body? The best man needs to have the best body too!"

"I'm glad you asked."

I have it easier than most people, and I can transform into anyone using only a photograph. Some people need body touch, possession, vials, spells or some other tactic, but I only need a photograph and I can transform into that person instantly. Or at least the person they were when the image was taken.

I move off-screen (mostly because I'm mildly annoyed at Nathan still keeping his tactic a secret) and glance at the photo on my table. The change is instantaneous, and I immediately feel lighter. My head rang for a moment, a drawback for a transformation as quick as that, but years of practice left me fully able to lessen that migraine.

I smile at him in this new body and say, "I saw him online, and I just couldn't resist."

Nathan rolls his eyes with a smile. "Lucky."

I take the time to explore the body once again, enjoying the strange sensations all over my body. One thing people don't mention enough when changing bodies is how literally every single thing changes: your senses, your visions, even the way you perceive things. This body, for example, has excellent health, but slightly blurry eyesight.

I open my shirt, reaching for his pec. His warm skin sends a ripple down my body, and I'm acutely aware of the growing bulge in this body. My other hand has reached his pants, massaging them, through the fabric making me moan harder.

Nathan doesn't say anything, continuing to change bodies as I explore every single inch of this body.

"Hmmm…" I whisper. Even his voice sends tingles down my spine. I massage his big thighs, the fabric of the pants feeling oddly satisfying against his skin. The thought of the real body seeing himself doing this sends a thrill. Sometimes I daydream about pretending to run into him with his own body, trying to seduce him using his own voice. I imagine using his hands to slowly massage his body, kissing the original man's lips using his own. I've already released his cock, stroking it in all its glory. It's veiny, pre-cum making it all shiny. I stroke the guy's cock faster, blood rushing in and making his dick even harder. It pulsates, my knees losing strength as I think of sucking the man's cock using his own mouth. I grip the side of the table as I gasp, closing my eyes as cum shoots up and onto my clothes and on my face.

"Finally got that out of your system?"

I'm still closing my eyes, breathing up and down, relishing the feeling of hot cum on my face. When I open my eyes, I gasp at Nathan.

"I think I found the one."

#male transformation #hairy male #suit #hairy bearded #hunk #hairy #selflove

[wysteria-clad]

Our little thing

paring: Marc, Steven, Jake x fem! reader; established relationship.

warnings: none, domestic fluff.

a/n: soft moon bois <3

summary: you have a specific thing with each of them. It's not like you don't do it with other two, but you do enjoy a little act of intimacy that is special to each of them.

a/n: Can we appreciate Oscar in the first gif? I'm looking disrespectfully Also, I believe the third one is Jake.

gif credits: @nightofthecreeps @kingjackless @waititi

------------

Marc:

Shaving his beard.

"So serious" he smiled at the sincerity on your face. Your eyebrows furrowed in pure concentration, your fingers slowly glided the razor down his left cheek with one hand, your other hand cupping the other side of his face for support and fingers casually resting on his neck. You were sitting on his lap, facing him.

You stopped, glancing at his playful eyes with a glare. "Stop, smiling" you chided him playfully. "What if i cut you accidentally?", you asked, putting down the razor.

When you playfully asked him if you could shave his face one day, he nodded sincerely, warming your heart in a new way you didn't know was possible. It was a subtle act of trust, the way he trusted you with a sharp blade near his throat. And it implied 'I want your touch even when I'm doing mundane things'. Your heart fluttered at the thought of sweet intimacy. Soon enough, it became a little routine for you and him. Everytime he wanted to shave his face, you did it for him.

A sweet little gesture between you and Marc.

"I can't help it, baby. The serious pout on your lips is cute"

"Yeah, yeah. If you don't stop talking, I'm gonna cut your handsome face" you carefully swiped a dollop of shaving cream off his cheek and smeared on his nose.

He wasn't a very playful guy but around you, he couldn't help it. With you, happiness came easily. Every laugh of him was unrestrained, so natural and carefree. You brought out that side in him often.

Few seconds passed. Marc's eyes glinted with mischief. Already knowing him, you tried to move back and get off his lap, but he had faster reflexes. He grabbed your face and pressed his cheek all over face, smearing the shaving cream on your nose, cheek and forehead from his face.

"Marc!" you laughed. You grabbed his chin pulling him closer for a kiss. One, two. And you went back to work. "That's your bribe, now stay still" you fixed him with 'I'm serious, now, babe'

"Yes, ma'am"

You couldn't help but smile at that. You managed to finish shaving his face, but not without exchanging few more kisses inbetween as bribe.

Steven:

Him sleeping on your chest.

The moment he walked into the bedroom, you knew something was up. You watched the gloomy expression on his face, which made your heart sink.

"Hey, what happened?" you lowered the book you were reading, closing it and placing it on the table next to you.

"I'll talk about it later. Y/n, love, can I have a hug?"

The way he asked you was soft. His voice was painfully soft.

"Come here, honey" you adjusted your back into the pillows for a better and comfortable position. Your open arms invited him, which he gratefully accepted.

His legs made way to the bed, he lied down next to you, burying his face between your breasts.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, your fingers stroking his back in comforting manner. "It's alright, it's alright, darling" you began to gently run your fingers into his soft curls. "I've got you" you pressed a light kiss on his head.

You felt him relax under your touch and comforting word. His grip around your waist tightened, you felt him shake and shudder.

Is he crying?

Your heart hammered faster. "Steven, honey...hey, it's alright, it's alright, baby", you threaded your fingers into his hair. You hated seeing him like this.

Whatever made him feel like this...you wanted to rip it off and shred it.

"Bullocks, I must be some sight to see, huh?" he tried to joke but his voice was strained, threating to let out a cry.

Gently taking his face between your soft palms, you placed a kiss between his eyes. Another one on his nose, and one on his lips, shushing him and wiping his tears away with a gentle swipe of your thumb.

His breathing became regular, his body once again relaxed in your warm presence and gentle couch.

You continued whispering sweet nothings in his ear, playing with his hair, until you could hear his steady breathing. He fell asleep. You smiled down at him. You didn't dare to get up with him sleeping on your chest. Very carefully and slowly, you moved one arm to grab the book on the table.

With him finally calmed down from his breakdown, you resumed playing with his hair and continued your reading, occasionally pressing a soft feather kiss on his forehead.

Jake:

Showering together.

The particular mission was rough.

Jake Lockley wanted nothing more than to run into your arms, have a couple drinks and sleep.

He wasn't the one to openly admit his needs and wants. You were aware of that.

Tonight you wanted to take care of him and make him feel extra special and loved.

You decided to have a warm shower.

"Jake" you kissed his lips. "Walk with me?" you took his hand, leading into bathroom.

A tiny smile eased into his face.

Victory. You cheered mentally. Keeping your eyes fixed on his dark ones, you slowly discarded your clothes. When he wanted to do the same, you grabbed his hand. "Let me take care of you tonight" you whispered in his ear.

"Princesa, I-" you cut him off with a passionate kiss. And began to undress him. "You always make sure I'm adored and taken care of, let me do this for you tonight, yeah?"

He reached out his calloused hand to touch your cheek. You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"Whatever you say, mi corazón"

How can he say no to you?

.

Your hands rested behind his neck. "Come here"

At your command, he craned his neck, his face hovering centimetres away from yours. "You are cute when you are bossy, Y/n/n"

"Gods, you are so damn handsome"

The hot steam from the water and the water droplets dripping off his hair, face only confirmed your statement.

You leaned closer, brushing tip of your nose against his.

Many men shuddered at the mere sight of him. But with you, he melted. The very source of his love, his sweet, sweet love.

He wasn't used to being taken care of. When you uttered those sentence, it felt strange to him, alien even. But he trusted you. He would do anything for you. He would move the stars if you asked him to.

You squeezed the shampoo bottle into your palm, lathering the shampoo into nice foamy texture. You moved your hands into his hair, slowly and gently massaging his scalp and washing his hair.

He repeated the same to you.

The hot water was soothing to his sore muscles.

"I want to kiss every part of you" you admitted, moving your hands down reaching his chest, peering at him through lashes laden with water drops.

"What's stopping you, mi amor?", with a wanton smirk plastered on his face, he picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the shower and towards bed.

Jack Lockley did not have drinks that night, but he got something way better—you.

Sometimes it was baths, sometimes it was showers, but quickly it became your little thing with him.

#marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon knight #wystie-verse

[squippy360]

Hi. Is it alright for incubus reader x stucky nsfw 😊

Steve Rogers x Incubus!Male reader x Bucky Barnes

(CW: Tentacles, overstimulation, piss kink(???), based off this, :D)

"Buck…? Please come to bed." Steve softly called out. Bucky had just come out of the shower and was quietly rummaging around the room to get ready for bed, waking Steve up in the process. "Don't worry, Stevie. I'll be there soon. Give me a minute." Bucky's gruff yet gentle whispered to him. Steve whined and flopped back down. Soon after that, he felt the bed move slightly as Bucky crawled into the bed with Steve. 

Steve smiled and let Bucky lean into his arms. He cuddled him close and petted his hair softly. 

"Good night, My love." Bucky whispered before sleep took us.

____________________

A hand reached out and touched Steve's face, stroking his thumb against his cheek softly. Steven stirred and whined out Bucky's name.

"Wake up, baby~ C'mon, let me see those pretty blue eyes." The voice whispered in Steve's ear. Both males let out a groan and slowly opened their eyes, looking around for the source of the noise. 

"Right here, my pretty little boys~" The deep, sickly sweet voice sent a shiver down their spines like thick honey was being poured down their back.

"M-M/n? What are you doing here? We thought you left to travel for your job?" Bucky mumbled. 

"I'm done already and came back to see my pretty little boys~ I could practically feel your neediness from all the way across the world." You smirked and slowly pulled the blanket down. Their eyes became cloudy and desperate as they squirmed under your gaze. Tentacles slithered out of your back and slowly slithered closer to them, tugging and ripping their clothes off to reveal their flushed body. 

"I know why guys like you tend to specifically ask for me. You’re curious about my talents aren’t you?" You growled deeply at them. They whined as you pinned their arms away from their body. You chuckled at their embarrassment. 

"Aw, don't be shy about it. You want to know what it would feel like to be fucked by several tentacles simultaneously don’t you? We've done it before but not with both of you present." You smirked maliciously as their clocks twitched against their stomach. "Please…!" They whined, embarrassed and red-faced.

"You can say my tongue counts as one of my tentacles… It’s long and slippery like one haha… Mmmf… Oh you want me to slide my tongue down your throat do you? Well who am I to say no to that, hmm?" Your tentacle held Bucky's face as you roughly kissed him back, your tongue fucking his throat as he squirmed and moaned. "Oof you’re choking on it a bit. Surely you can take it further than that can’t you? Mmm your tight little throat is spasming around my tongue… That feels so good." You groaned in his ear. 

Steve watched with wide eyes as the tentacles groped and stroked his most sensitive spots. He let out a high pitched moan as the tentacles brushed over his nipples. "Oh- M/n! Don't…ngh…pinch them! They're too sensitive- M/n!" Steve moaned mindlessly. You teased Bucky with your tongue, your hands moving down to his pecs and squeezing them. You pulled away from the kiss, smirking at the man's red face. 

"Please! Put it in already! I can't…" Bucky begged, his pleas slowly defending into desperate sobs as the tentacles edged him further. "Such pretty little pets~" You spoke, pulling them further into your lustful trance. 

"Since you've been so good, I'll be sure to fuck you til you pass out~" You grinned and the tentacles quickly made their way south and penetrated both of their bodies. 

They arch their backs simultaneously and cried out, their cheeks tear-stained and wet. "YES! YES!" They sobbed loudly. You kicked your pants off and pulled Steve's hips close to you. You gripped the back of his thighs and pushed your cock in with the tentacles. "Oh fuck…" You groaned.  

Steve's eyes rolled back and more pleasure tears ran down his face. "M/n~ M/n~ M/n- Mph!" Steve moaned out before a tentacle was forced down his throat. He sucked on it softly as it moved in and out of his mouth. Bucky released auffled yelp as he was lifted off the ground by the tentacles and suspended in the air. 

He was fully exposed and vulnerable as the tentacles buried themselves deeper into Bucky's insides. Tentacle suckers wrapped themselves around his nipples and cock, shocking softly. "OHHHHHHH NNNNGHHHH!" Bucky cried out and came. You licked your lips. "So fucking tasty." You grinned and rammed harder into Steve. His tummy was covered in cum and other liquids he couldn't hold. Tears dampened the sheets under both of them. Nothing but whimpers and whines escaped Steve's lips. "N-No…can't…no more…" He cried desperately. 

His eyes rolled back a final time as he shuddered and dry orgasmed before passing out. Bucky moaned helplessly, begging to be let go. You gently placed him on the bed and removed all the tentacles and pulled out of Steve. They both curled up into each other, sweaty and tired. You cooed at them softly and quickly cleaned them up with a rag before snapping my fingers to change the sheets under them. 

You curled up to both of them, not tired enough to sleep and instead just settled on petting their hair and holding them comfortably close. 

(Next up: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-)

#avengers x male reader #x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #captain america x male reader #stucky x male reader #steve rogers x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader

[minispidey]

01: Barbie and the Giftshopist.

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader. series masterlist. next part.

01. This Barbie is his new neighbor!

warnings: uses y/n once, get ready for kinda cringey bimbor!reader. over-use of the word like. extremely feminine reader. reference to elle woods. NOT BETA READ.

"Yeah, but like, I totes believe her. I mean she's totes being framed. I wanna help her." as Steven got off of the lift, he sees multiple boxes out in the hallway and hears a woman's voice talking to someone.

You walk out of the flat in front of his to push in the rest of your things. You were wearing something someone moving in shouldn't be wearing: a pink lace top, flared pink pants and cute high heels. You had a purse and everything.

"I need an alibi from her. Like, she can't just like go to jail for something she didn't do. That's a crime itself." you held your phone in between your shoulder and ear "I'm totally bugging. Where's a good manipedi here?"

"Uh, I think there's a salon across from the baker around the corner?" Steven spoke up from behind you.

You turn to face him, blinking twice "I'll call you back. I'll see you at the office." you end your call and smiled at him "Thanks so much. My nails have suffered too much this past week. Oh, we're neighbors!"

"It seems like we are."

"I'm Y/N. It's so nice to meet you." you two shake hands "I'm like, really struggling with these boxes. And I know I'd be like super desperate, but I am, but can you help me, please?" you smiled brightly, even batting your long eyelashes.

"Oh, uh, yes, absolutely." he said, taking a couple of the boxes from the hallway.

You kept kicking some of the boxes in with your pink high heels, clearly impatient and trying to push them all in. Steven halts your actions by picking them up and setting them down inside.

"You gotta uh, carry the boxes inside. They get stuck when you just push them." entering your flat, he placed more boxes down. He could see your walls were already painted a different color: pink. Steven was surprised to see such a bold choice of color, but he could already tell by your outfit what kind of woman you were.

A woman with great fashion-sense.

You were beautiful. Something about you was just so alluring, so hypnotic. He couldn't even believe a beautiful woman like you was talking to him, let alone letting him enter your flat. But he did notice you were a bit of a ditz.

"Do you need any help with anything else?" Steven asked, turning around as he spoke. His ears were slightly red because of the way you looked at him.

"That's all. Thanks so much." you smiled "I just moved here, and like, still adjusting."

"It's not a problem at all. If you need anything, don't be shy. I'm just in front."

"That's so nice of you! Totes, I'd definitely need some help. Oh shoot, I never got your name."

"It's fine. I-It's Steven."

"It's so nice to meet you, Steven."

His eyes shifted to the racks filled with clothes. Pink, to be exact. You were extremely feminine. He spots furs and his brows furrow a bit "Er... uh..."

"They're faux fur. Can't tell the difference anymore." you giggled, wheeling them to a corner with the rest of your clothes.

"Oh. Well, they're very nice." Steven smiled "Are you a model?"

"Gosh, that's such a compliment. No one's ever said that before. But no, just love clothes. How about you? Wait wait! Let me guess..."

Steven found it adorable as you squint your eyes, thinking of what his job is.

"Are you like... a sculptor? No, a painter! Am I close?"

"I work at a gift-shop, actually. A giftshopist." he smiled.

"No way. You have really pretty hands, you could be like a hand model. Or like I said, a painter."

Steven blushed like a mad man "Thank you. No one's ever complimented my hands."

"You're pretty handsome, you know? It's like... gosh you have a nice nose too." the way you complimented him was as if he was a sculpture.

Steven's heart almost stopped when you casually mentioned how handsome he was. You were incredibly blunt about it for someone he had just met.

"Thank you." he said, his cheeks turning a shade of pink. Something about you saying it that make his body feel all warm. It's such a strange and unusual feeling for him.

"No, but like seriously. You are so handsome. It's like driving me a bit cray, you get it, right? Gosh, I sound like a total creep."

Hearing the same thing two times in a row sent him into quite a little flutter. He had never been one to be flirted with and the combination of how direct you were, plus how much you were repeating yourself certainly made him feel something.

"No, it's fine. No, you don't sound like creep, it's totally fine." he looks back up at you "I'm just... I'm not used to... it."

"Used to what? Being called handsome?"

"Yeah." Steven chuckled, the sound escaping his mouth in such a high pitched and nervous way that it sounded almost like a squeak "And uh, being flirted with..."

Your phone suddenly rings, making you two jump up. You take your phone out, looking at the caller ID "So sorry. I gotta take this."

"Oh, no worries." he clears his throat, taking the opportunity to collect his thoughts and calm his racing heart and mind.

"I, uh, I should go now." he says "I'll see you around, luv."

"I'll see you around, Steven." you gave him a smile before answering your phone, pacing back and fourth across your flat.

As Steven enters his flat, his heart calms down but his cheeks were still red. His eyes shifted towards a mirror, a clearly judging Marc staring right back at him.

"So. You like her?"

"Oh come on, Marc. I just met her."

That evening, Steven heard a knock outside his door. His ears were perked up as he approached the door, opening it to find you in your cute animal print night dress and holding a casserole dish "Okay, so like, I got called in to the office earlier and I never got to properly thank you."

"It's not big deal, luv." he blushed "They're just boxes."

"And really heavy ones. You are like, super strong. Plus I finally got my manipedi." you giggled "I made lasagna in the office but I got leftovers, do you wanna split?"

"Uh... actually I'm vegan."

"Oh gosh, I'm like so sorry. That explains the fur thing!"

"Yeah." he nods "It's alright, luv. I don't wear a big ol sign saying I'm vegan."

"Well... I was just hoping we could hangout because you seem like a really nice guy. I mostly bond with food."

"It's alright, uh..." Steven looks behind him, looking if his place was presentable "If you want, you can eat it here while we chat? Maybe a cup of tea? I've stepped inside your flat, might as well welcome you into mine."

"Really? That's so nice of you! I swear, when I get my stove and oven I'll make you something vegan."

"You really don't have to. I assure you, it's alright."

"Don't worry! I can cook."

Ever since that day, Steven is ecstatic to wake up everyday and greet you in the morning as you both went off to work.

Your clothes were always consistent with the pinks and whites, but you always looked professional as you head off to work.

Steven began to guess what your profession was. You said you weren't a model, perhaps a designer? A professor?

He snapped out of his thoughts when you placed a plate of fried tofu with some sauce over it and spring onions.

"Stevie, do you know where I could like, donate books? Mine are sooo expensive but someone might want to use them." you asked as you cleaned up your countertop.

"Yeah, why?"

"Okay so like, Jean, he's like a newbie, he totally bugged me. Brags that he loves to donate his stuff. He once donated a canoe. He says like he was a hoarder back then. I thought to myself, am I hoarding?" you spin, facing Steven "I totally am! I have books I won't need anymore and I don't have bookshelves anyways."

"I have spots in my bookcase. Maybe I could take them off your hands?" Steven looks up at you with a smile "I don't mind. They have sentimental value?"

"Very. Plus, they were soooo expensive I swear. I could've bought like fifteen more pairs of heels if I hadn't bought them. Or maybe just a pair of Choos."

"What kind of books are they exactly?"

"Law."

"Law?"

"Law." you clear your throat, lifting your arm and bending your wrist in a dramatic way "I'm a lawyer, obvi."

Steven was slightly taken aback by the news. He certainly wouldn't have guessed that right "You're a-a lawyer? Oh, wow, that's super impressive. Wait, how are you dressed the way you are if you're a lawyer? Don't they make you wear suits and stuff?"

"Duhh, I wear pink ones! You see me wear them to work every morning." you smiled "I have a lot."

Steven's truly never met a woman like you.

"You're incredible..."

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #bimbo!reader #x bimbo reader

[m00nsbaby]

The invisible barrier.

(Jake Lockley x F!Reader)

Tags - Warnings: Jake doesn’t know about Marc or Steven. Angst, smut, fluff, everything. Most of Jake’s dialogues are in Spanish, most of reader’s are in English except in November - December. Word count: 4,9 k. (Lol, sorry) Summary: A whole year trying to understand Jake Lockley. (Literally)

January.

"¡Hola!" (Hello.) The sudden voice next to you made you jump as you made the most important and complicated decision of the week.

Would you choose pretzels with dark or white chocolate?

Reluctantly, you turned to your side to see a man standing just a few inches away from you. On another occasion, you would have probably jumped back or fled to another aisle in the supermarket, but the apologetic smile on his lips and the puppy-like look in his eyes told you that he didn't want to be in this situation either.

"Perdón, ¿Podrías decirme qué dice aquí?” (Sorry. Could you tell me what it says here?) The words came out quickly from his mouth and you furrowed your brow in confusion. Your fleeting and ridiculous Spanish classes had never been of much use, even less now that you had the opportunity to help an attractive man.

"I don't... Huh." You cleared your throat, searching for a way to say, 'Maybe I can't help you, but I'll move heaven and earth to try.' Dramatic? Yes, of course, but what more could be expected from a hopeless romantic? Many love stories began like this in your mind; this was a scenario you had imagined at least twice before falling asleep. "No hablo español." (I don’t speak Spanish.)

The man blinked a couple of times, as if realizing that he had gathered courage for about 15 minutes only to lose his dignity like this.

"Oh." He cleared his throat, nodding afterward. "Thanks," he said shyly, as if trying to hide his accent.

"No, no, let me help you. What do you need?" You turned the bag of Cheetos he was holding in his hands so you could see the list of ingredients on the back as he was asking. Both of you were guessing what you were saying. Your gaze scanned the list, nodding your head when you detected the problem. Everything was written in English.

Sure, your aisle companion had an extra problem on top of that. The letters were too small for his poor eyesight, and he would rather ask for help from strangers than give up on the idea of using glasses.

"Give me a second." Your fingers quickly handled your phone as you took the bag from his hands.

You took a photo and the app took care of the work for you, translating every word on the red packaging you held. You didn't hesitate to take a step forward and extend your hand far enough for your phone to be at the stranger's ear level, who didn't question your methods for a moment.

He just stood still, listening.

"¿Colorante rojo número 6?” (Red dye number 6?) He questioned when the voice function finished. And you quickly scanned the phone screen, trying to find the part on the list that seemed closest to what he had just said.

Well, seis = 6, that one was easy.

"Yes, 6." You saw him smile and take the bag back from your hands to shake it in a celebratory manner. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why 6?" He guessed based on how you tilted your head to one side what you were asking.

"Soy alérgico al número 4, o al menos eso creo.” (I'm allergic to the number 4. Or at least, I think I am.) He pointed to his throat. "Siento comezón en la garganta cuando como cosas que lo tienen.” (My throat itches when I eat things that have it.")

Did you understand anything he said? No, nothing beyond the number 4. So, you smiled and nodded, eliciting a warm laugh from him.

He was cute.

"Gracias." (Thank you.) It seemed like he understood the basics, just like you. It was better to use his words than to deal with the pronunciation of the "t" and "h" together.

"It's okay." You shrugged while continuing to smile in a friendly manner. It wasn't because the stranger was incredibly attractive; you always behaved this way with people, or at least you tried to. "Enjoy your Cheetos."

Another giggle. "Cheetos," he repeated, imitating the way you pronounced the brand's name.

You rolled your eyes playfully and went back to the pretzels without saying anything else.

Well, there went the potential love of your life. Both of you were too shy to engage in casual conversation. You were aware that pretending to have the confidence to do so would be a lie.

Silently, you paid for your pretzels covered in white chocolate, looking around in case the guy was still nearby. After a few seconds, you gave up. Well, it was nothing out of the ordinary, even with one more chance, you wouldn't have approached him. More than 20 dollars for a bag of chocolate covered pretzels? That must be a crime, the first time you bought one . . .

"Hola de nuevo.” (Hi again.) The leather of his jacket brushed against your skin as you bumped into him. He was in the exact same position as you, one hand holding his Cheetos, the other clutching the receipt he was trying to read with squinted eyes.

You almost had a heart attack.

"Hi." You smiled, your cheeks betraying you as they turned rosy just from being around him like this. You had to take a step back after the clumsy little push you gave him.

"¿Tienes cómo regresar a tu casa?” (Do you have a way to get home?) You frowned at the question. This only confirmed that your crazy fantasy wasn't going to work out; there was a huge barrier between you.

He could see the confusion on your face so he pointed outside. It was raining heavily.

"Oh." You had been so engrossed in your pursuit of him that you hadn't thought about that. It wasn't a terrible problem, though; you could just wait until it calmed down.

You could spend another $20 on an umbrella in the worst case. Or call a car to take you the 10-minute walk to your house.

"I'll just wait." You had to remind yourself not to get too deep into your words.

"Yo te llevo.” (I'll give you a ride.) He quickly said. "A ride." The way the 'r' rolled off his mouth was enough to make you dizzy.

"Are you sure?" This couldn't be happening. This genuinely couldn't be happening.

"Of course, I'm sure," he repeated, smiling. This couldn't be happening.

It couldn't.

That night, you ran together to his car in the rain, laughing. He opened the door for you, even though it meant a few extra minutes of water poured on him.

You gave him directions through your phone, and you learned how to say "cuadras" (blocks) to guide someone next time, and he kept telling you something you didn't understand, but he noticed you were just nodding for him to keep talking.

He said goodbye with a kiss on your cheek. He used a word similar to "custom" to justify it, ‘costumbre’ maybe.

Oh, and you exchanged numbers. It turned out the stranger, Jake Lockley, worked as a taxi driver most nights. You understood that because the words "taxi" and "noche" were in your mental dictionary.

February.

Your first date was a disaster.

You never considered that to spend the day together, you had to exchange more than 5 words, and Jake stained your beautiful pink sundress with an ice cream that didn't even taste that good.

Oh, at some point, you tripped too. You were so focused on trying to understand one of the anecdotes he was telling you that you ended up on the ground with a scraped knee.

That wasn't so bad, though. I mean, you had Jake on one knee, checking yours. He even had you step on his thigh so he could clean you up with his ice cream-covered napkin.

When the day came to an end, he took you home. You noticed he had memorized your address, making it easier for both of you. You hummed a song together to cover the silence of two people who had to resort to other means of communication than talking.

"I had fun." Lie, this hadn't been anything like you imagined a first date, not after reading books or watching movies.

He nodded silently as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

And even though the date was a complete disaster, Jake kissed you.

He kissed you against the closed door of your apartment, holding you by the waist as if you intended to escape from his arms, begging you silently not to separate from him.

"¿Repetimos la próxima semana?” (Second date next week?)

March.

Text messages flowed throughout the weeks. Depending on the day, one or the other used the translator to send messages that the other could understand.

Sometimes they were just silly pictures, mostly of cats. You found a silly liking for sending him videos and photos of different animals in romantic situations, hugging each other and such, with only the description 'us.'

Jake responded ‘nosotros’ with different emojis depending on the day. He liked the white heart.

His car became familiar to you, as well as the late-night drives with music. You wondered if Jake had started neglecting his work to spend more time with you, and although it sounded selfish, you didn't care much.

You enjoyed his company.

April.

Your fingers played with his curls while both of you rested comfortably on your bed, you on the pillows, Jake on your abdomen.

He was surprisingly interested in one of the old books you hadn't touched in a long time.

"Jake?" He immediately put the book down to look at you. "Can you help me with a word?"

"¿Ahora?" (Now?) he asked.

"Right now."

"¿Cuál palabra?" (Which word?) He closed his eyes as your fingers continued to enjoy playing with his hair. It was so soft that the gentle caresses you gave were enough to mess it up.

"Boyfriend."

"Novio." You stretched your free hand with difficulty. He opened his eyes again, looking at you with interest as you struggled in the least attractive way to open one of your drawers with one hand. Something cracked in it.

You put the bag of Cheetos on his chest, clearing your throat afterwards.

"¿Quieres ser mi novio?” (Do you want to be my boyfriend?)

May.

"Jake?"

The car hadn't started yet when he turned to look at you, raising his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong. You stretched enough to touch his knuckles, which were marked with a purple tone and scraped.

Your gaze went to him. It was as if both of you knew how to communicate through looks.

"No sé qué me pasó. Mi teoría es que golpee algo mientras dormía.” (I don't know what happened. My theory is that I hit something while asleep.) He frowned as he extended his fingers to get a better view of them. It looked like he had beaten up someone, and he couldn't deny that it hurt, especially when he gripped the steering wheel of the car.

"Are you still having those strange dreams?"

"Weird dreams," Jake whispered to himself as a way to remember your words. "Sí, sueños raros.” (Yes, weird dreams.)

You pursed your lips without saying more as you brushed his knuckles with your thumb, as gently as you could.

"Let's go." You finally gave in, returning to your seat with an unconvincing gesture.

June.

"I don't understand football." You said as you walked hand in hand, leaning some of your weight against his body.

Technically, neither of you were drunk; you were just flushed from the heat of the alcohol, giggly and a little tipsy. Jake had mentioned how funny it would be to go to one of those bars where they show football games for fans, even though neither of you were fans. Choosing a team randomly to support, drinking things with strange names, and maybe sharing spicy wings sounded like a good plan.

That was your Friday night.

"Tampoco yo.” (Neither do I.) Jake was doing his best not to laugh. He failed miserably.

When you reached his car, you leaned your body against it, and your hands ended up on your boyfriend's shirt. He immediately knew what you wanted, bringing both hands to your waist and leaning forward, closer.

"Is it hot here, or was it the 4 margaritas we drank?" You whispered while trying to contain your smile.

"Debe ser ese vestido.” (It must be that dress.) His lips brushed against yours. The sudden change in his voice made you shiver, so husky. “O por lo menos es lo que me está poniendo caliente a mi.” (At least I know that's what's making me hot.) It was the last thing he said before kissing you as if his life depended on it.

You moaned into his mouth, pressed between his body and the car. The kiss was wet as his mischievous hands slid under your dress, squeezing your ass firmly enough for it to hurt. Not in a bad way. "Jake." You complained as you looked around to make sure no one was walking by to see you.

"Date la vuelta.” (Turn around.) Apparently, your Spanish only worked in moments of convenience because you obeyed immediately. You turned your body with difficulty, mainly because he refused to let go of you. You felt his erection against you as soon as your cheek collided with the cold metal of the car. He was rubbing against your ass while biting your neck to his liking, sucking and licking your skin until he marked it. "Fuck, Jake." You whispered with your eyes closed. You could have cum right there with just his kisses and soft touches. Fortunately, he was more considerate because one of the hands that rested on your waist little by little went between your legs, your dress was already raised enough to only have to worry about your panties, he brushed his fingers over your abdomen before sliding his middle finger between your lips. First he wetted it well before moving up to your clit. His touch made you tremble and hiss. "¿Un par de besos te tienen así, corazón?” (A couple of kisses have you like this, sweetheart?) You could hear the smirk on his lips as his finger traced circles against your most sensitive area. "Imagínate como será cuando esté dentro de ti.” (Imagine how it will be like when I'm inside you.) A shameless moan escaped from you. "Eso quieres, ¿No?” (You want that, don't you?) He kept talking in your ear while he distributed one or two kisses between your neck and your shoulder. “Sentirme duro. Profundo.” (To feel me hard. Deep.) He simulated thrusts between each word, his hip pushing yours harder against the car and against his hand that kept playing with your pussy to make you whimper. You nodded without opening your eyes. "Con palabras." (Use your words.) He said clicking his tongue.

"Yes please." You begged desperately while trying to get air through your mouth. "Buena niña.” (Good girl.) You swallowed the complaint of feeling him take his hand out of your panties, just because you immediately heard how he started to unbutton his jeans. "Escupe.” (Spit.) You could feel his girth between your legs, letting you know that there were no more clothes involved. You took a few seconds to be able to clean the fingers that were inside you before with your tongue, making Jake groan just by imagining what you would do with your mouth in another situation. When you were satisfied you spat into the palm of his hand as requested. He wrapped his hand around his cock, and covered it with your saliva. He used the same hand to accommodate it between your lips. A sigh of relief left your mouth when you finally felt it inside you. A muffled whimper accompanied the way your muscles suddenly relaxed, as if that was what you needed. "Mierda, amor." (Shit, love.) As Jake's forehead rested against your shoulder, he muttered under his breath. "Voy a terminar rápido si sigues apretándome así.” (I'm going to finish fast if you keep squeezing me like this.) His voice made you dizzy, you mentally thanked all those days you spent understanding each other because his words could have been enough to push you to the limit. It didn't take long for both of you to pick up a delicious rhythm. When he pushed his hip forward, you pushed back to make him go deeper. When he was pulling back, you were pulling forward almost taking his member all the way out to prepare for his next thrust. You were so close you had to bite the hand he put to your mouth to keep from screaming. "¿Vas a terminar para mi, mi vida?” (Are you going to finish for me, my life?) He whimpered. Oh god, he fucking whimpered. He had a desperate tone to his voice, almost like he was comforting you. "Déjame sentirlo, por favor, por favor.” (Let me feel it, please, please.) This time it was he who was begging. Your saliva had started running against Jake's hand. You were seeing stars from squeezing your eyes shut, and how close you were wasn't helping at all. The spasms had started around him, and without warning, the inevitable happened. He finished inside of you. His cum being pushed deeper inside you with each thrust he took to finish his orgasm was enough for you to reach yours. "Amor, carajo.” (Love, damn it.) His voice cracked at the sensitivity combining with your walls squeezing him every few seconds. You were milking him. "Te amo.” (I love you.) He whispered as his breath interrupted each of his words. That was the first time he said it.

July.

The only thing that relaxed you was that this 360° turn apparently had nothing to do with you.

Jake was someone else.

His flirty and playful personality was just a memory to you. Under his eyes, there were huge dark circles since his dreams had become crazier and more frequent.

There were unexplained wounds on his body, according to him. Or sometimes there were none, but he felt the pain throughout his body, as if a truck had run over him, he said.

He became silent, as if he felt he was talking too much when he started to let out words about what was happening. He still hugged and kissed you, still spent afternoons with you and continued to respond “nosotros" to your silly animal photos.

But something wasn't right. There was something so... strange.

You did what you could to work on it, to let it pass.

Even if it cost you the trust in your relationship.

August.

Your hands trembled as you dialed his number for the tenth time that night. Maybe you were being dramatic, but Jake always made sure to let you know when he had returned home.

The sudden change that had occurred in him over the past 3 months didn't help at all. You wouldn't last a lifetime without wondering why his body kept producing wounds he claimed not to remember, or about those days of complete dissociation on his part, when he swore you were playing with him when you told him it was Saturday and not Wednesday.

"I just want to know you're okay." You whispered with a broken voice to the voicemail. "Please, just tell me you're okay."

There was no response that night. You couldn't sleep either.

The next day, when he showed up at your doorstep with the dark circles you had learned to get used to over the days, your body's first reaction was to push him with all your strength. It was only enough to make him stagger.

"You're an idiot." You spat the words, your eyes flooded with tears.

"Me quedé dormido anoche, perdón.” (I fell asleep, I'm sorry.) He didn't even seem to believe the words coming out of his mouth, but how could he explain to you what was happening in his life if he didn't even know what the hell was going on?

"How much longer do you plan on lying to me?" You didn't care that people passing by on the street saw you both as crazy. You in your pajamas, him leaning against the car as a method of protection.

"No te estoy mintiendo." (I’m not lying to you.) He raised his voice a little, letting out a lot of the feelings he had been suppressing for a while.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" The worst part was that you also had things bottled up inside you, the worry for him being the thing that choked you every day, squeezing tighter and tighter.

"Creo que no quieres entenderme.” (I think you don't want to understand me.) He was angry. You had never heard him like this, especially not directed at you. "Creo que ni siquiera estás intentando.” (I think you're not even trying.)

Damn the day you started to understand his words.

"I'm not understanding you, Jake?" You had already broken into tears. Your finger collided against his chest in an accusatory manner while he seemed unaffected, even though inside he was falling apart.

It was too much for him. Everything was too much.

"I've been trying for months to ignore what you're hiding from me." It was so difficult to argue in this way that frustration was suffocating you.

"¡No te estoy ocultando una mierda!” (I'm not hiding shit from you!) You snapped.

With fear.

Mid-sentence, Jake had reached out a hand to push you. Not with much force, just enough to separate you from his chest.

In seconds, he became aware of what he had done. If the car wasn't behind him, he would have moved even further away from you. He was overwhelmed by fear too.

He was losing himself as he had suspected.

"Me tengo que ir.” (I have to go.)

"Jake Lockley, if you leave, I don't want you to come back." Tired of seeing him run away from the problems, you resorted to the last card you would have liked to play.

You were foolish to think he would risk hurting you again. The last thing you heard was the sound of the engine accelerating to get away from you as fast as possible.

September.

The first part of September is blurry. You did your best to survive without him, but the days passed so quickly that you began to question if you were alive or just living in a bad dream that had lasted longer than necessary.

It was as if Jake was dead to you, without any sign, without any notice, nothing.

He simply disappeared.

The clear countdown of the days begins on the 13th, when your phone lit up to notify you that he wasn't doing much better than you.

✉: ¿Podemos hablar? (Can we talk?)

✉: Estoy perdido. (I'm lost.)

It hurt not having him, but it hurt more to see Jake's well-being. Not knowing how he was, where he was, what he was doing after that tragic day tormented you.

You replied, and the most important relationship in your life turned into a series of midnight calls where you tried to understand what your ex-boyfriend was mumbling from the solitude of his car.

You had friendships that had started in stranger ways than this, you could endure this.

Make it work.

October.

"Trick or treat." Mentally, he slapped himself for how ridiculous his way of reappearing was.

A half-smile appeared on your lips as you opened the door and came face to face with an embarrassed Jake, wearing your favorite leather jacket and both hands in his pockets as if he was waiting to be scolded by you.

"I doubt any of these things don't have artificial coloring number 4." That was your only response as you leaned your body against the door frame. With one hand, you held the huge container of candies that came out of hiding every Halloween.

"Estaba por aquí.” (I was around here.) Jake pointed back, the path that led to the supermarket, or at least that's what you assumed. He had a very lame excuse to see you, but that worked for you. The interest was enough. "Y pensé en venir a saludar.” (And I thought of coming. To say hi.)

"I'm watching Friday The 13th." You looked behind him. Children approached with shyness, seeking candy. "Come in, let me finish with the candies."

Your smile was so genuine that Jake's heart skipped a beat. How had he lasted so long without you? Those lost 3 months would always be present in the multiple mistakes he made.

That night, you kissed until it hurt. Until your lips hurt from bites, until the skin of his neck burned from love bites, until his fingers became imprinted on your waist. "I love you." You said between moans as the movie gave you an almost unreal vision of who the love of your life was. Flashes in white, in red, even in black showing you how beautiful he was from any angle or lighting. He made your sofa creak as he raised his hip toward you, thrusting into you even deeper if that was possible. "I love you, Jake." You repeated with a broken voice while your little jumps gained more strength. Your body was already exhausted, your legs were shaking and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck from sweat but emotionally you refused to get away from him. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo.” (I love you. I love you. I love you.) His whispers mixed with his panting. You both seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go away again." Your fingers tightened on his chest, scratching at his skin as you had done many times before. "Don't ever leave me again, Jake." The way you said his name burned in his heart. He brought a hand to one of yours to squeeze them on his chest, making you feel his agitated heartbeat. There was no need to say more, not while your kisses, movements and moans spoke for themselves. That night, as you rested on his chest after an orgasm that made you both shake from head to toe, he promised you never to leave. "Mi vida.” (My life.) He repeated as his fingers untangled your hair and your weight on him increased as you drifted off to sleep. "Mi cielo. Mi corazón.” (My darling. My heart.) He whispered in your ear. "Mi todo." (My everything.)

November.

Everything with Jake was stupidly easy.

Laughing, singing, existing.

As easy as in the romantic comedies you used to love watching before you met him. And it's not that you had forgotten about those because of him, but now you enjoyed watching action movies, those that allow you to get distracted without losing track of the plot.

You didn't press him to talk about what happened in those months, knowing that there were still a thousand secrets between you because you still saw strange bruises on his body, marks on his knuckles, or felt him getting up in the early hours of the morning when he stayed over with you.

"Leave me alone!" You ran down the hallway, laughing with him trailing behind. Probably restraining himself because it would be impossible for him not to catch you with his eyes closed.

He wrapped an arm around you to press you against his chest and used the other to prevent both of you from crashing into the wall. He was laughing too.

"Do you give up?" He squeezed you tighter with his arm.

"Never! Let me go!"

The laughter almost made it difficult for you to speak.

"Come back to me, and I'll let you go."

The seconds of silence churned his stomach.

"What?"

"I mean..." He cleared his throat. "Officially. Would you be my girlfriend? Please?"

It almost seemed like he was begging you.

You reassured his fears with a kiss.

December.

"I don't understand how you can eat these things." You took a deep breath through your mouth, sticking out your tongue, already reddened by the red dye number 6, to seek some relief from the burning sensation.

Jake was setting down a fifth box from his arms. He sighed, tired.

"No puedo creer que no me estés ayudando.” (I can't believe you're not helping me.) He approached you to steal one of the Cheetos from your bag while you licked your fingers. "Te dije que uses palillos chinos, así evitas el polvo.” (I told you to use chopsticks, that way you avoid getting your fingers dusty.)

"The dust is the best part." You popped your thumb out of your mouth.

"Disgusting." He feigned a look of disgust as he settled between your legs, resting a hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"You didn't say that when..."

"¡Dios mío!" (My God!) He gasped, biting his lower lip to suppress his laughter. He leaned forward, stealing a chaste kiss from you. "Compórtate.” (Behave.)

"Are there many more boxes left? I didn't think you had so much stuff in your apartment." You pushed the box aside as you leaned forward to prolong your kisses.

"This is my apartment." He whispered with a smile against your lips.

"Touché." Your fingers slowly roamed his shirt collar before pulling him closer with a tug on the fabric. "What if you take a break?"

Jake's hands were already on his pants, figuring out how to unbutton his jeans without separating from your body.

"I'm never going to stop unpacking." He complained as his lips began to descend towards your neck.

Ok now that I have written happy endings for the three of them I’m sick of them, lol, I’ll try to get angst-ier with these thingies

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #marc spector #Steven Grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #Moon Knight #moon knight x you #marvel #Oscar Isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you

[ivystoryweaver]

With you part 7

<- prev next -> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Jake just kissed you. Will he let things change between you?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, Steven Grant x reader, (Marc Spector x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notables: Angst, complicated relationship stuff, kissing, cursing, crying. Let me know if I missed a warning. inaccurate DID, based on the show. Not beta'd we die like arthur harrow in the back of jake's car

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

"Stop telling me what to do," you fired back, refusing to shrink away. "You're driving me crazy. If you don't want to talk to me, or know me - if you want to sneak in and out of here every night and never see me again, then just say so."

Your chest heaved with emotion. "I won't like it and I won't ever stop worrying about you, or wanting to know you, but --"

You didn't get to finish because Jake roughly pulled you into his arms and crushed his mouth to yours.

You had expected something hard. Intense, possessive. Like Marc.

Or surprisingly, blisteringly seductive. Like Steven.

Jake was tender. And you fell apart in his arms.

Expecting a frantic shove up against the wall, you got, instead, arms cradling you like a treasure. He rocked you gently - gloved fingers winding behind your neck.

The searing heat of his tongue made your chest burn with longing. Realizing you had melted in his embrace, your own arms limp by your sides, you reached suddenly and desperately for his curls.

Knocking the cap off his head, you threaded your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to pull yourself upright, arching against his chest as he groaned into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

Strong arms flexed against your back as he wrapped you up tighter, pulling his lips away for a moment and rubbing his nose against yours.

Unable to resist the heated temptation of your breath, he kissed you again, deeper this time - hungrier.

You were used to this body - accustomed to the response it ignited in you.

But, to Jake, you were all new. A wondrous discovery. He wanted to touch and feel you everywhere at once but the stupid bird was thundering in his head, sending a faint but definite breeze fluttering through the bedroom.

"Wait...mi vida," he panted against your parted lips, pushing you back by your shoulders. "I can't. I have to go"

Your entire world had changed in the span of a kiss - your heart, already so full of love for this system - dug down deeper to plant new roots for Jake to grow there. Forever was born anew in your soul, just like it had been when you met Steven...

...and he had to go?

"Jake," you gasped, undeterred by supernatural events around you, gripping his arms as if it might actually keep him with you. "Wait, please--"

"I know," he softly replied, touching his forehead to yours. "But people are in trouble. They need help."

Releasing you, he stepped back, reaching for his cap. "This is what I have to do. It's...the point of me."

"The point of you? Jake--"

"Yes," he answered firmly, pulling the flat cap over his curls before taking a few determined strides toward the door.

Pausing, he glanced back at you - breathtaking you, so adorable in your hoodie and joggers, peering at him so expectantly. "Imagine if no one was there to help you the other night, mi vida - what could have happened to you..."

You needed to accept this. The way you accepted Marc's sobriety journey or Steven applying to university. This was who Jake was and this was his choice. The stolen moments in his arms - the slight relief of the tension between you just now had granted you at least this clarity.

"I understand," you breathed, grateful that he at least tried to explain himself. "Just...be careful...okay?"

"Claro," he nodded, heading toward the front door.

"You don't use the window?" You teased, following after him, to sweetly see him off, rather than plead with him further.

Turning back, he jingled his keys in front of you with an amused smirk. "Marc gave me a key."

"Wow," you chuckled, impressed. "Be careful," you repeated. "I-I'll wait for you.

"No, mi amor." Jake shook his head, grasping your elbow the way he was prone to do. "Go to sleep. You have your shift tomorrow--"

"Okay," you conceded, feeling a secret thrill that he seemed to know your schedule. The warmth of possibility bloomed in your chest, making it easier for you to agree instead of firing back.

Seeming satisfied with your answer, he finally left.

You did wait.

You sat in Steven's favorite reading chair, which was conveniently located close to the front door.

You listened to the podcast again. Did a puzzle. Read for a bit. Drank another cup of coffee. Splashed your face with cold water. Five times.

But eventually, you fell asleep.

And that's where Jake found you a few hours later, when he entered through the front door (for a change).

Curled up in a ball, with your hands tucked cutely into the sleeves of Marc's hoodie, Jake just stared down at you for a moment. Tempted to leave you there to rest, he found he couldn't resist scooping you into his arms and carrying you to bed.

You barely roused as he lay you down gently and covered you with a blanket. Quickly changing out of his work clothes, he washed up before joining you.

After what happened between the two of you earlier, he was more tempted than ever to touch you somehow - to pull you close. But the body had already lost enough sleep tonight. Steven was going to be so tired for class in the morning.

He couldn't take anymore time away from them. Or you. That wasn't his purpose.

Feeling exhaustion pulling at the corners of his mind, he decided it was for the best - to give himself over to it, like always. You would have your fiancé in a few hours.

Then your alarm went off.

You woke up immediately, digging into the pocket of your hoodie to silence the intrusive noise. That's when you noticed your fiancé in bed with you.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry." Sitting up, your eyebrows gathered in confusion as you tried to figure out...

"What are you doing?" Jake sat up as well, his deep voice affirming that it was still him - that he had yet to fall asleep.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, rubbing your eyes. "I tried to stay awake, but - well, I set my alarm just in case."

"Just in case what? You have to be at the hospital in a few hours, mi vida."

"I know...and I'm not trying to bother you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Softly sighing, you set your phone on the bedside table. "And I didn't know when I would see you again."

Shaking his head, Jake eased back onto his pillow. "That's how it's supposed to be. You have work. Steven has class. The rest of the time is Marc's. I can't take anything else from him."

It took you a minute to process everything Jake said.

"What?" You responded, the implications of what he'd just voiced astounding you. "You want Steven and me to get some rest - I get that. But what exactly are you taking from Marc?"

Lying down, you turned on your side to face Jake, who was staring up at the ceiling.

"Everything. His life. Time. And now you too? I can't," he exhaled shakily. "We can't. It's better the way it was."

Oh, game on.

"Better for whom? For you? Jake...I told you that the reason I stayed up and waited for you earlier was for two things - " You sat back up determinedly and counted the reasons off on your fingers. "One - to ask how you were doing - which I still haven't had a chance to do, and two - to tell you that if you don't want to ever talk to me, or see me, or be in my life, then to please just tell me."

"It's not what I want, mi corazón - it's what has to be - what always has been," Jake said insistently, sitting up in bed beside you, gesturing with his hands. "You don't understand how it works with us - how things have to be.

"Everything I do is to protect us - all of us, because Marc can't live without Steven. And he definitely can't live without you. ¿Entiendes?"

Raking his hands through his hair, he sighed in frustration. "I already fucked up, that night, in the alley, and then he started drinking again, and you were fighting, and it's because of me. I'm only supposed to make things better, not worse.

"And now, tonight, I shouldn't have done what I did, before. You-you don't belong to me." His chest heaved as he shook his head.

"I don't belong to anyone, Jake." Your voice was softer now, the ache in your heart prompting you to reach for his shoulder. "I choose to be with Marc, every day. And Steven."

Inching closer, you traced over his neck to cup his cheek, feeling his jaw clench under your fingertips. "I chose to wait up for you. I want to wait up for you, and to know you."

He physically withdrew from you then, turning his head away from your touch. And that hurt. Still...you couldn't force him to want to know you, despite how confused that intense, delicious kiss had left you.

Reaching for Jake's hand, you gently traced your fingers over his knuckles - only briefly, before pulling away, giving him the space he clearly wanted.

"Jake...all this must be so hard for you to bear. I can't even imagine. But you don't have to do everything all by yourself." Your lip trembled as you quickly started to realize this conversation was ending. You were both exhausted, and Jake was used to sleeping, or another alter fronting, by this point.

In one last bold attempt, you darted over to kiss the soft fabric over his shoulder.

"Remember that you have a family. And in families, you don't just do jobs, you matter." Lying down on your pillow, you felt warm tears drip down your face, but you tried to keep your voice from shaking. This was about him, not you. "You matter to me, Jake. Even if you can't love me. It's okay - I just want you to know you're not taking anything away from anyone. You only add more."

Jake could hear the sweet sound of your voice and his skin burned from your touch, but a void of impossibility engulfed him. He was so tired. It was so much work to operate in a way that contradicted his entire existence. It was easier to slip away, and before he could even think that he should respond to you...

Steven breathed your name in the dark.

Quickly turning your back to him, tears flooded your eyes. Biting your lip hard to keep your cries to yourself, you attempted to pretend to be asleep. Jake was right that both you and Steven needed some rest.

Your plan worked. Sleepily rolling over, Steven's face found your neck and he latched onto you in typical Koala Steven style. Thankfully he was too exhausted to feel you shudder in his embrace.

Finding comfort in your fiancé's tender, strong arms, you began to calm down. But after everything tonight, your mind raced as you re-evaluated your approach to Jake. Apparently you had done every single thing wrong. He was abundantly clear on his role in the system and what he wanted - or, in this case - didn't want from you.

Why were you fighting him so hard?

After a few minutes of sweet torment, you climbed back out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door quietly, you allowed your tears to flow a little more freely, easing down to the floor with your back against the door. Burying your face in your hands, you quietly sobbed, drenching the sleeves of Marc's hoodie.

It wasn't like you to cry very often, or to even operate at the whims of such a wild range of emotions. But as your soft gasps settled, and you leaned over on the bathroom floor, completely drained, you realized something.

If there was anything in this world you wanted, it was for Marc to feel accepted and loved - every single part of him. That, of course, meant Steven, but now it meant Jake too. If Jake didn't want your love, you would have to accept that, but the fact that he seemed to think he didn't even have the right to exist outside his protective role - to ever talk or interact with who he called family, including his alters - it killed you.

That was the last thing you remembered before you passed out asleep on the bathroom floor.

Coming up: Marc finds you on the bathroom floor and freaks right the hell out. Will you see Jake again anytime soon?

next ->

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #mcu #marc spector x gn!reader #steven grant x gn!reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x you #jake lockley x you #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #with you fic #oscar isaac fic #moon boys #moon knight system

[heartateasee]

“House Call”

Warnings: Slight degradation, bondage, hair pulling, brief spanking, a bit of spitting and unprotected sex

Word Count: 11.9k

✧✧✧

With her heels clicking against the floor, Rowan made her way through the lobby of the office building. She looked at the directory on the wall, locating the name 'Starr Entertainment' before stepping into the elevator and selecting the correct floor. She fiddled with the heavy gold watch on her wrist as she watched the number change on the screen in the box she was occupying.

She stepped out of the elevator once she got to the proper floor, walking down the hall to suite 710. Her eyes wandered around the hallway to make sure no one was watching before slipping inside.

The last thing she needed was an employee, or an investor of hers, seeing her enter this type of place.

Rowan looked to the man behind the desk as she walked forward.

"Hi, I have a meeting with Steven," she said confidently.

The man's eyes wandered over her, and he raised an eyebrow. "You're Rowan?"

She was sure that her clean and tidy appearance made it hard for him to believe that she was coming here to hire a male stripper, but it was her friend's thirtieth birthday. Maggie always talked about how she wanted to be surprised with a stripper on one of her birthdays, so Rowan decided what better birthday to do it for than this one.

The only issue - her and Maggie have very different taste in men. Rowan knew what Maggie liked, but that little detail was going to make this a bit difficult for her.

"Yes, that's me," Rowan answered with a nod of her head. "I'm due at a business dinner in an hour, so I need this to move as quickly as possible, please."

Steven rolled his eyes with a sigh and stood from the desk. "I'm Steven, follow me."

They walked down the hall a bit before he turned into what looked like a proper office with binders on the desk.

"Those are my guys that I've got currently," he said pointing at them. "Take your pick, and I'll let you know who's available that day out of the ones you choose."

"I can't just tell you what she likes and you pick some options out for me?" Rowan asks, a little frustrated as she really didn't have time for all this.

"Nope," Steven answered, sitting down on the couch that was also in this space. "It's easier if you do it yourself, trust me."

Accepting the fact that she was going to have to do all the work on her own, Rowan flipped open the binder and began to work through it - page by page after she sat down in the office chair. Each page contained 4 pictures of the men, none of them naked, however, as that's not the kind of business they ran at this particular entertainment agency. The men only ever got down to their underwear, and that's the main reason why Rowan chose them.

She didn't want to have to look at the dick of a man who was not her type.

She had been flipping for about five minutes or so before she stopped, glancing over one of the guys, and giving his page a bit more attention than the others.

'Harry Styles - 29 - 6'0".'

Steven made note that Rowan dwelled on the particular man she was looking at, and he popped up from the couch, standing to look over her shoulder.

"Ah, Harry," he said with a bit of a nod. "He's one of our most popular, but that's because he's good. Been with me for a little over three years now."

Rowan swallowed thickly as she stared at the pictures provided. He was toned, she'd give him that, but all the tattoos didn't do it for her. However, she knew they'd do it for her friend. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip before hearing a knock on the open door.

"Hey boss," a raspy British accent filled the room, and Rowan and Steven both looked over. "I'm just here to pick up my check."

Steven smirked softly. "Well, if it isn't the man himself. I think we have another booking for you, Styles. Rowan here was just eying your page."

Rowan's eyes trailed over Harry, who was dressed in a pair of light blue flared jeans, and a white ringer tee that had red adorning the collar and the cuffs of the sleeves. The material strained against his large biceps, and the light colored shirt made the black ink against his tanned skin stand out even more.

His curls were a little messy, and his striking green eyes were staring right back at Rowan. A crooked grin appeared on Harry's lips as he chewed a piece of gum between his molars.

"Is that so?"

He made his way into the office, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not entirely true," Rowan said after clearing her throat. "I'm still looking through."

Harry scoffed and leaned down to place his hands on the edges of the desk, fingers curling around it. "And what would it take to convince you that I'm the perfect choice?"

Rowan made note of how his muscles flexed when clutching to the wooden surface, along with the ticking of his jaw every time he'd bite down on his gum.

"Nothing, like I said, I'm still looking."

Licking over his bottom lip, Harry straightened up and grabbed the back of his shirt between his shoulder blades. He pulled it up and over his head, tossing it onto the nearby couch before running a hand up and through his hair.

"How about now?" He asked.

Rowan could've cursed herself for not only the way her stomach flipped at the sight of his bare torso, but also the clenching of her thighs.

"Well, you're a cocky one, aren't you?" Rowan questioned with a raise of her brow. "Four nipples, and what is that...a dick disguised in a banana peel around your neck?"

Harry let out a laugh, tilting his head back. "I can assure you that no one cares about my extra two nipples when I'm grinding over their lap, and you're right - a banana dick."

Rowan knew he'd be perfect for her friend, and it sucked because she wished she could shoot him down in order to bruise his ego, but she knew she couldn't be selfish about this.

"Fine, but I'll need you to dress up."

"That's fine," Harry said with a shrug, walking over to the couch to retrieve his shirt. "Nothing I haven't done before."

"Grease is her favorite movie, so you'll be dressing as Danny Zuko that evening," Rowan stated as she stood up, shutting the binder. She rounded the desk and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the front of it. "I'll get all the clothing you'll need, just give me your sizes, and then we can meet a few days before the party so I can give them to you."

"Any song in particular I should keep in mind?"

Rowan almost didn't hear his question as her focus was on his muscles rippling as he moved his arms around to get his shirt back on.

"Grease Lightning would probably be the best," she said. "Seems fitting."

Harry snorted out a laugh while shaking his head. "Sure does."

Rolling her eyes, Rowan fished her credit card out of her purse to hand over to Steven. "My friend's gonna love you. Me? Not so much."

Harry's eyebrows narrowed as he moved closer to her while Steven moved out of the office. He was on a mission to write up the contract, and to run Rowan's card back at the desk he was sitting at previously.

"You're not my type at all. I don't like tattoos," Rowan said, smirking now that she was finally able to take a jab at him. "And I like my men sophisticated, something you're clearly not."

Harry ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he tilted his head to the side. "I'll have you changing your mind at that party of yours, I'm sure."

Now Rowan was the one to laugh, pressing a hand to her stomach as she doubled over. "You really are so full of yourself, huh? I can assure you that my mind will not be swayed."

Harry leaned down so he could be eye level with her, and she could instantly smell the spearmint from his gum as it filled her nostrils. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

Before she could even comprehend the closeness they just shared, Harry was sending her a wink before walking out of the office.

She didn't like the way he made her feel. He wasn't her type, and he wouldn't be an exception no matter how hard he tried.

Steven returned shortly after, having her read over the contract and sign it. He provided her with Harry's measurements, and said just to call up the office and arrange a time for the two of them to meet up for her to hand over the clothes.

Rowan thanked him for his time before heading out and into the elevator. Her mind was boggled as she looked down at the copy of the contract in her hand, and she couldn't resist flipping to the page that had Harry's photos on it.

The elevator dinging caused her to jump, and she quickly folded up the papers while exiting the office building.

✧✧✧

It was Saturday night, and the night of Maggie's birthday party. Rowan was running around like a mad woman as she tried to make sure everything looked perfect. She had insisted on having the party at her place, and that's mostly because she had more room here than Maggie had at her apartment.

She didn't want anyone to feel crowded considering there were about 15-20 women coming other than Maggie and herself. Also, she'd rather not be confined to such a tight space with Harry.

Just the thought of him caused Rowan to tighten her grip on the vegetable tray she had in her hands as she walked over to her dining room table.

Her and Harry had met up earlier this week so that she could drop off everything he needed for Danny, and, of course, they had just continued making jabs at each other.

"Here's everything you're going to need - muscle tank, leather jacket, dark skinny jeans, a black belt and the shoes," Rowan told Harry, shoving the shopping bag into his chest. "Please, make sure you only wear these things. I didn't get you white socks because I figured you'd already have those."

Harry opened the bag and looked down at everything before fixing his gaze back to Rowan, tilting his head to the side. "I thought you said you would be supplying everything I need, and your costume requires me to wear white socks, right?"

Rowan was clenching her teeth so hard she thought they could break. "Are you fucking kidding me? I really don't have time for this right now. I'm just supposed to drop this off to you and go."

"There's a store right there," Harry continued to push, pointing at the building. "Let's run in real quick and you can buy them for me."

"I told you, I don't have time - I have somewhere I need to be in twenty minutes," Rowan stated firmly, pulling her phone out to check the time. "Yep, twenty minutes, no time. You can figure that one part out on your own."

"Where do you have to be so urgently? It's after work hours, and I know you're not going on a date."

"As a matter of fact, I am," Rowan said proudly, shrugging her shoulders. "So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go, and I'll see you on Saturday."

Harry whistled out, shaking his head as he shot Rowan a smug smirk. "Feel sorry for whoever has to deal with your shitty attitude for the whole night. You're definitely not going to get laid."

Rowan kept her expression stoic, but she truly wanted to grimace at his words. "I've never had an issue with that before. I think I'll be just fine, but thanks for your concern."

She moved to walk around him, but Harry was quick to wrap his hand around her forearm - causing her to spin around and collide with his chest. "Oh, please don't think of my thoughts as me being concerned for you. Just find you a little pathetic is all."

Eyebrows narrowed, Rowan ripped her arm from Harry's grip. "Who the hell do you think you are speaking to me that way?"

"I think you're the woman who practically insulted not only my appearance, but also my level of sophistication when we first met. I'm just giving you back what you dealt to me."

"As if you think I care about what you have to say or think about me," Rowan told him, shaking her head. "See you Saturday."

Thinking about their encounter made a sense of anger settle in Rowan's chest. The fact she had to see him tonight had her skin crawling, but she'd grin and bear it so that her friend could have the best birthday ever.

The party started promptly, and about an hour in she heard a knock at the door. She had been the one to greet the guests all evening, and she was mostly doing that so she could quickly hide Harry from her friends once he arrived since no one knew about this surprise.

She walked over and opened the door, gasping as she saw Harry in front of her. He was already in costume, the tight black jeans hugging his toned legs, and he had his curls back in the proper hairstyle. It was also obvious that he had sprayed his hair black for the occasion.

The leather jacket hung perfectly over his torso, and she could see the ripples of his muscles through the muscle tank that covered his abdomen. There was a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and she figured it was probably the clothes he wished to change into once he was done.

"So...are you going to let me in, or are you just going to stand there and continue to gawk at me?"

Harry's voice snapped Rowan out of her daze, and she brought her eyes up to look into his. She cleared her throat as she reached out to grab his arm, pulling him inside. She shut the door behind him, and turned to face him while holding her index finger over her lips.

She walked quickly across the hall to her guest room, and closed them in.

"Okay, so give me like five minutes, and I'll start the music-"

Rowan looked down all the way to Harry's shoes, and noticed that he didn't have socks on, his bare ankles showing due to his jeans being rolled up.

"Where are your socks?" She asked with wide eyes. "Are you seriously going to be that petty?"

"A deal is a deal," Harry said as he plopped down on the side of the plush bed, allowing his bag to slide off his shoulder and meet the floor. "In the contract that you signed, it said that you would supply every part of the costume. That includes the socks, Miss CEO."

Rowan scowled at him as she walked to the dresser in the room, beginning to rummage through the drawers.

"You're so fucking frustrating, you know that?" She complained while moving things around.

Her brother would spend the night with her often when he was in town on business, and she was sure that he had to have left some socks here over the course of his many stays.

"This wouldn't have been an issue tonight if you had gotten them to begin with, or if you had decided to be just a little late for your date. We could've gone into that store together and picked some out right then and there."

Rowan's movements halted when Harry brought up her date, and she shuddered when she thought about the awful sex she had that night. They say size doesn't always matter, which can sometimes be true, but when you don't even know what to do with what you have, how do you ever expect to get someone off?

They had gone back to his place, and Rowan dipped out before they could even finish. The douchebag hardly touched her, and the sex had been going on for about ten minutes without either one of them even getting close to their orgasms. Rowan was the one to speak up, and she practically flung the man off of her so she could scurry around the room and gather her belongings.

Harry chuckling right behind her caused Rowan to jump, and she quickly turned around after grabbing a pair of socks from the drawer. He didn't put his hands on her, and he didn't put his hands on the dresser to cage her in, but he did walk forward so they were chest to chest once again.

"Your face, and your body language, tells me everything I need to know about your little date," he said before running his tongue along the front of his top teeth. He took the socks from Rowan, tossing the bundle in the air before catching it. "You were left unsatisfied."

Rowan wanted to shut him up, and it pissed her off even more that she wanted to shut him by putting her lips against his instead of it being her fist colliding with his mouth.

"That's hardly the truth," she lied, shaking her head. "And it's also none of your business. You're here to do your job, not pester me about my personal life."

The smirk that curled onto Harry's lips had Rowan's knees buckling, and she reached behind her to brace herself on the dresser. She cursed herself internally, having made it so obvious that he had a hold on her considering how he looked tonight.

"You okay there, Rowan? Looking a little flushed," Harry teased, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Hearing her name tumble from Harry's lips had her almost falling out on the floor, no matter how much the surface behind her was stabilizing her. "What are you thinking about?"

What was she thinking about?

There was absolutely no way that she was going to tell him about the fantasy currently playing in her head since the image of her lips on his popped up. She pictured him picking her up, but quickly dropping her back on top of the dresser. Neither one of them would bother underdressing, both way too eager to just get this done and over with, but they were also just so hungry for each other. Harry would just get his jeans down to the middle of his thighs, while Rowan would reach underneath the wine colored dress she had on to move her black lace panties to the side.

Regardless of the personal frustration that was prominent, it was blatantly obvious that the sexual tension between them was a beginning to overpower that emotion.

Snapping herself out of the daydream, Rowan parted her lips to respond to Harry, but no words would come out. Harry let out a high pitched laugh at her silence, leaning down a bit which caused Rowan's chin to tilt up so she could still face him.

"I told you that I'd have you changing your mind tonight, and it looks like that's already starting."

Rowan couldn't even process his words before Harry walked back over to the bed, and sat back down. He removed his shoes, and began to slip on the socks she had given him.

"F-five minutes," Rowan croaked out, pushing herself off the dresser to run her hands over her dress to smooth it out. "Give me five minutes, and then I'll start the music and you come out."

There was no time for him to answer because Rowan moved so fast to get out of that space with Harry. Her guest room was in no way small, but with him in it, she felt like she was suffocating. She pressed herself against the wall outside the door to catch her breath a bit before shaking it off, heading into the living room.

"Maggie, let's get you a refill!" She cheered, taking her friend's drink and topping it off.

She wanted to make sure her friend had a full drink beside her before Harry got started, as she wasn't sure exactly how long he'd be going for, and Rowan wasn't about to be in that close of proximity to his dancing. No, she planned on standing in the dining room behind the living room with both double doors open so she could still see, but she would be far enough away so that Harry wouldn't be near her.

Once Rowan had Maggie's refill, she handed it back to her, and then grabbed the remote for her soundbar.

"Alright, so to really kick off this party, I decided that we'd start with a song from Maggie's favorite movie," Rowan said while flipping through to her music app. She clicked on it and typed in 'Grease Lightning' before looking around at everyone. "Are you all ready?"

Rowan was speaking louder than she normally would, but she wanted to make sure that Harry could hear her in the bedroom so that he was prepared. While setting up the party, she had already made sure to put a chair in the middle of the living room - using the excuse that it's where Maggie could open her presents. In reality, she had that there for Harry to coax Maggie into once his routine really got started.

The group of friends screamed and cheered, and Rowan pressed play before quickly setting the remote down. She started towards the back of the room as the music began to flow through the living room, and Maggie was already starting to dance.

Rowan peeked over her shoulder as she heard the guest bedroom door open, and out stepped Harry. He rounded the corner into the living room, causing all the girls to stop and stare at him.

"I've heard a little pink lady has a birthday today," he said, putting on an American accent - yelling over the opening dialogue of the song.

Rolling her eyes, Rowan shook her head and walked behind the table once she was in the dining room, beginning to nibble on snacks as she continued to avoid watching what was going on in the other area.

She was doing a good job of ignoring the activities happening amongst her friends before she heard their screams. Looking up from the table, Rowan's eyes caught sight of Harry's muscular abdomen as he peeled off the black muscle tank, his leather jacket already wrapped around Maggie as she sat in front of him.

Harry moved forward so that Maggie was between his legs, and he lifted one of her hands to run it over his chest, and then his abs. He began to roll his body, and Rowan could see Maggie tilt her head back with a loud laugh. Her friend was one to laugh in situations such as these because she didn't know what else to do, but she knew that Maggie wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest.

The music continued on, and she watched as Harry undid the black belt, quickly pulling it through the belt loops and dropping it to the floor. Rowan tried to will herself to look away, she really did, but she found herself in a trance with the way Harry's body moved in those tight jeans.

As the song neared its end, Rowan watched as Harry buttoned and unzipped his pants while her teeth sank into her bottom lip. She was holding a piece of celery in her hand that she had snagged from the vegetable tray, only one bite taken out of it since she had gotten so distracted.

Somehow, Harry managed to make reaching down to loosen the jeans around his ankles sexy, before he stood up straight. Within a blink, he pulled the jeans from his body, leaving him in a pair of tight black Calvin Kleins that hugged his crotch.

The celery stick in Rowan's hand hit the table as her mouth gaped, her eyes drawn to the prominent bulge that she could see. All the whistling and hollering from her friends sounded muffled in her ears, and it wasn't until her eyes looked back to Harry's face that she saw he was already looking right at her.

Rowan felt heat spreading across her cheeks and her neck, and she quickly made her way into the kitchen to avoid Harry catching her stares any longer.

Harry was in the process of cleaning his clothes up from the floor since the song had ended, but that didn't stop all the girls from talking to him - praising him on his performance.

"You should really stay for a couple of drinks!" One of the girls told him, and he looked over to her with a crooked grin.

"Yeah, if you all are okay with that," he responded, still faking his accent.

The agreement was unanimous amongst the women surrounding him, but that didn't include Rowan. Knowing that little detail made Harry feel like he had the upper hand on her, and he wanted to watch her squirm with him continuing to be there.

Harry carried himself to the guest room, and shuffled through his bag to get his fresh set of clothes out. He folded the costume that Rowan had supplied him, stacking it and leaving it on the bed for her to retrieve later. There was no point in him keeping any of it.

In just his briefs, he made his way into the in suite and saw the shower with the detachable shower head. He hung his head into the glass cubicle and turned on the water. Harry dug his nails into his hair and his scalp as he washed the dark spray away, and once he was sure he had it all out, he shut off the water and placed the shower head back in its appropriate spot.

Whistling to himself, he grabbed a towel from one of the shelves, running it over his head while he walked back into the bedroom.

Once he was back at his clothes, Harry pulled on his pair of light colored ripped jeans, and a plain white t-shirt. Licking over his bottom lip, he slipped into a pair of black and white Old Skool Vans before exiting the room, placing his bag by the door.

Rowan stood there in the kitchen with Maggie as her friend ranted and raved over Harry and his body. Maggie had a boyfriend, so obviously there wasn't any chance of something happening between the two of them, but some of the other girls thought they may have a chance. Rowan tried her best to remind the girls that he was here for work, and that she was sure he wanted to remain professional.

Her eyes quickly found Harry's as he walked into the room, and it was almost laughable how all attention became fixed on him.

"What are you doing?" Rowan asked, lifting an eyebrow at him. She immediately noticed that he had washed the black spray out of his hair, his chestnut curls still damp, and a bit unruly, on top of his head.

"I was invited by all of these lovely women to stay for a couple of drinks," Harry answered, walking forward to stack his arms one over the other - leaning against the bar of her kitchen. "One of them being the birthday girl, and I think she gets the say tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

It seemed like all the girls froze when they heard Harry's true accent, and Rowan's anger only grew with the way her friends were clearly drooling over him.

"Fine," Rowan agreed through clenched teeth, not wanting to be a wet blanket on her friend's night. "A couple of drinks. A couple is two - in case you needed the reminder."

Rowan's friends hardly paid attention to the clear animosity between the two individuals as Rowan walked back into the dining room to her bar cart. Once she approached it, she realized she had no idea what Harry liked to drink.

"Tequila, silver," the words dripped into her ears as she huffed out a breath, propping her hands up on the cart.

Harry grew ignorant when he saw the reaction Rowan had to just his voice, and he peered over his shoulder to see that they were shielded by the wall that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

"Did you enjoy it?" He questioned, stepping closer, but still not touching her. He could see the way her back was rising and falling, and it was clear just his presence had her reeling. "I saw you looking...staring."

Rowan pressed her tongue into the inside of her lower lip as she grabbed a rocks glass, scooping some ice out of the bucket she had prepped for the night. "I was watching to make sure my friend had a good night, that's all."

She grabbed the bottle of silver tequila she had at the ready, unscrewing the top before pouring some into the glass.

Harry's body heat was radiating against her, and it was everything Rowan could do to keep her hands from shaking.

"Are you sure that was your true reason for watching, Ro?" Harry's lips brushed against Rowan's ear just briefly as he whispered to her. She was fighting diligently to keep her eyes from slipping shut while resisting the urge to lean back into him - the nickname he had given her causing her brain to fog up.

Rowan swallowed harshly as she put the bottle of tequila back down. Once again he was rendering her speechless, and she hadn't been this way around anyone in a long time.

Harry's hand came in contact with the outside of her arm, fingertips running up and down it as Rowan sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

"Y-yes, I'm sure," She whispered out, fighting against the fog in her mind that was only seeming to grow.

"Tell me something and this time, don't lie to me. You were watching because you wished you had been the one sitting in that chair, hm?" Harry's tone was so sultry, but teasing, as his lips ghosted over the side of her neck - goosebumps erupting all over her skin. "Couldn't keep your eyes off me the entire time, especially there at the end. Did you like what you were seeing?"

Rowan was so in her head that she didn't realize Harry had moved his arm around her waist so that his hand could rest on her stomach. The pads of his fingers danced across the material of her dress, causing her body to slightly jump at the sudden contact. It felt good, so good that her body seemed to pulse with jolts of electricity, but she knew that this couldn't happen.

"That's what you would like for me to admit, wouldn't you?" Rowan asked before breaking away from his grasp. She turned around to shove the rocks glass full of tequila into his hand, and Harry stared down at her with a gaping mouth.

"You don't get to just touch me like that. You'll have your two drinks, and you'll go. And don't flatter yourself by thinking I'm doing this to keep you here - I'm doing this so I don't ruin my friend's night by kicking your ass out."

Rowan quickly dipped down the hallway that was off the side of the dining room, opposite of the kitchen, so she could go and cool down in the bathroom. Harry's eyes kept tight to her retreating form as he sipped his alcohol.

It wasn't like him to lose out on trying to seduce a woman like that, but maybe he had read the signs all wrong. Maybe she really didn't find him attractive, and all she wanted was to make sure her friend had the best birthday ever.

✧✧✧

It was a Saturday night, and Rowan sat on her couch with a glass of red wine in her hand. Her TV was off, causing her to stare back at her reflection that she could see on the black screen. Every now and then her eyes would flick to the clock, and this time when she looked, it read 8:58 pm.

Two more minutes.

Taking a large sip of her wine, she got it down to about halfway. She began to nibble on her bottom lip once she swallowed - wondering if she had made a mistake with what she had signed up for this evening.

It had been three weeks since Maggie's thirtieth, and Rowan hated to admit it, but she couldn't get Harry out of her head.

The goosebumps that coated her skin from his touch, the way his heart shaped lips would curl up into that signature smirk, and, fuck, the way those tight black Calvin Kleins clung to his -

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Right on time, of course," Rowan muttered under her breath, setting her glass of wine down as she pushed herself off the couch.

For the first time in years, she was nervous.

Nothing made her nervous these days. Not a board meeting filled with 30-50 men that were more than twenty years her senior, not the initial date with people she'd match with on Tinder, and definitely not someone who presented themselves the way Harry did.

In any other situation, she'd see him as an arrogant son of a bitch, and she'd find ways to knock him down a few pegs.

But for some reason, she couldn't do that with him, at least not tonight.

With her hand around the handle of her front door, Rowan turned it, and opened the barrier that was shielding her from the man she had been fantasizing about more than she'd like to admit.

Harry's eyes immediately met hers, and just like before, he had a duffel bag over his shoulder. This time, however, he was dressed casually to begin with.

Adorned in a pair of mustard yellow corduroys that were slightly flared, and a white t-shirt that fit loose around his neck, Rowan watched as a stray curl lowered itself onto Harry's forehead as he looked down at her.

"Sounds awfully quiet in here for a party," he commented, and she could immediately tell he was chewing gum - much like the first time she had met him.

Rowan had lied when booking him, not being able to find it in herself to admit that she was wanting him again, but just for herself this time. She had told Steven that her friends loved him so much that she wanted him to come back for her friend's bachelorette in a couple of weeks, and it turns out Harry was booked up every weekend until this exact one.

The truth was, Rowan didn't have any friends who were engaged, and a few days after the party, her friends had stopped talking about Harry. But then there was her, not being able to get him out of her head.

Clearing her throat, she moved out of the doorway to allow Harry to step inside before locking everything up behind him.

"T-there's no party," she admitted, clutching her hands into fists to try and hide how they were trembling. "Just me."

Harry raised his eyebrows at Rowan, looking past her petite form, and into the living room, before focusing back down on her. "Well...this is just rich, isn't it?" He chuckled with a shake of his head. "So which is it? You asked me here to yell at me some more? Or to try and insult me even further than you have?"

Rowan moved her head in disagreement with his words. "No it's not that, I-" she stopped herself for a moment, taking in a deep breath before sighing it out. "Look, your cocky attitude is annoying as shit, and I stand by what I said about you typically not being my type, but I...I asked you here for me."

Silence blanketed over the pair, and eventually Rowan was forced to look at her feet from the uneasiness she felt. She was regretting her decision.

How was this a good idea when it made her feel so insecure?

Jumping from sudden contact underneath her chin, Rowan felt the side of Harry's index finger curl against her skin before he applied a bit of pressure - forcing her to look up at him again.

"You want me to strip for you? And just you?" He asked, his voice low, causing Rowan's lips to part as she tried to regain proper breathing.

"Y-yes."

Harry brought his thumb up to tap against the corner of her mouth a couple of times before dropping his hand. "Go have a seat. I'll be out in a few minutes, and I'll take care of the music too."

Not another word was said before Harry walked into her guest room, causing her to have flashbacks from the first time he was here.

Rowan snapped herself out of her daze before walking into her dining room. She grabbed a chair from the table and carried it into her living room, placing it in the middle of the floor.

With her glass of wine in her hand, she sat down in the chair - her body riddled with anxiety.

Part of her wanted to go knock on the door and tell Harry just to forget about it. She'd tell Steven to let him keep the money for wasting his time, and she'd leave it at that. She'd never have to see him again and deal with the embarrassment she felt for bringing him here like this.

Lifting her glass to her lips, she went to take a sip, but paused as she heard the opening of the guest room door. Her eyes snapped over in that direction, and she heard the clicking of shoes against the tiled foyer that he had to walk through in order to reach the living room.

Rowan almost allowed the wine to slip from her hand, but, thankfully, she tightened her grip in time as she looked over Harry's muscular frame once he reappeared.

Dressed in all leather, Harry stood in the archway. The black trousers and the black blazer hung on his body wonderfully. The blazer was open with no shirt underneath, and he had a green boa draped around his shoulders. He was standing a bit taller than normal due to the black heeled boots on his feet.

"Remote?" He asked as he walked forward, still working the piece of gum between his teeth.

Rowan quickly grabbed the remote for her TV off the coffee table and handed it on him, clutching her glass of wine against her chest. She watched as Harry went to her music app, typing in a song before hitting play. A beat rang through just a bit before the vocals started.

"I can taste it on your mouth, and I can't leave it. You're a freak like me - can't you see?"

The music began to fill the living room, and Rowan didn't hesitate to practically down the rest of her wine in one go. Harry's eyebrows narrowed as he watched, and he walked forward to take the empty glass from her hand. He set it down before standing in front of her - bent over so they were face to face.

"Relax, Ro," he instructed, grabbing her other hand that had been gripping to her thigh without her even noticing. "Just breathe."

Rowan inhaled deeply as Harry stood up straight, and straddled her body in the chair between his long legs. He moved her hand to his abdomen, letting her feel over his abs as she pushed her thighs together.

Truth was, Harry was a bit nervous himself. He had never stripped for one person alone like this, and for it to be Rowan, it was enough to drive him crazy. He hated her fucking pretentious attitude, but it would be a complete lie for him to say he didn't find her extremely attractive.

In a way, he completely fed off their banter - the insults turning him on more than he'd like to admit.

As he felt her palm brush against his skin, Harry fought the urge to gasp out at the sensation it brought. His skin was ablaze beneath her touch, and it left him wondering how her small hand would feel if it grazed him, or even gripped him, in other places.

His eyes trailed Rowan's body that he hovered over, her small frame covered in a pair of casual light colored jeans and a nude colored corset-like top. The top allowed for the swells of her smaller, but perky, breasts to rise and fall with each of her breaths, and he couldn't help but let his eyes stay glued to that sight.

Rowan caught where he was staring, and as much as she wanted to make a snarky comment about him gawking at her tits, she couldn't with the way seeing him look at her like that made her feel.

Getting more comfortable, Harry let his hand leave hers for a moment, but Rowan kept it firmly against his abs where he had left it. He pulled the boa off of himself, draping it around her shoulders, before stripping off the blazer.

Fighting the urge to let her other hand rest against his body as well, Rowan's eyes wandered over him, taking in the ink that was embedded in his olive toned skin. She barely comprehended that Harry had her other hand in his grasp now, and he moved that one a bit higher - letting her feel over his pecs.

"You okay?" He asked, watching as blush began to creep over Rowan's neck, and her cheeks.

Rowan nodded, swallowing harshly before answering. "Yes, please, keep going."

Harry couldn't help but smirk to himself, and he placed his hands over both of hers that still held to his torso before he began to roll his body to the beat of the music.

Rowan's mouth ran dry, and she watched the butterfly inked into his skin practically flutter with each roll. She pushed her thighs together even more, but this time Harry actually noticed it.

Moving his hands away from hers, Harry hovered over Rowan more and dragged them down the chair to the bar that sat just a little above the bottom of it. He picked the chair off the floor with ease, watching as Rowan's eyes widened. Her hands gripped to the top of his shoulders, not knowing what his next move was going to be.

Once a certain beat of the song hit, Harry allowed his hands to release the chair, slipping them immediately underneath Rowan's thighs to still keep her up and against him as the chair hit the floor. She moved her arms to wrap around his neck, her heart pounding against her chest.

Harry leaned down, running the tip of his nose over her collarbone as Rowan swallowed down a moan, tilting her head back a bit - causing the boa to slip off her body. She could feel the pants of his breath against her cleavage, having it be cold against her heated skin due to his spearmint gum.

Not being able to resist any longer, Harry kissed over the tops of her breasts that were exposed to him while Rowan ran one of her hands up and through his curls.

After a moment, Harry put Rowan back down in the chair and she watched as his hands met the waistband of his trousers. Her eyes were trained on his fingers as he undid the button, pulling the zipper down as well while he kicked off his boots.

"No denying that you're staring this time, huh, Rowan?" Harry teased, but she could hardly even hear him - knowing that she was so close to seeing the sight that had been replaying in her head for weeks once more.

He allowed the pants to drop around his ankles, and he stepped out of them - his groin now right in front of her face.

"But you want more than just this, don't you?"

Harry's hand cupped Rowan's cheek, moving her face up to look at him. She chewed on the inside of her bottom lip for a moment before giving him a nod.

"Yeah? You think I can satisfy you in the way all those men you've come across can't?" He asked as he grabbed the boa off the ground and walked behind her.

Kneeling, he grabbed her small wrists and brought them together. "Is this okay?"

It took a minute for her to realize what Harry was asking, but once she did, she nodded once more.

"Words, Ro, I need words."

"Yes, yes," Rowan gasped, her words coming out more hurried than she intended, but she was desperate and needy. "Do whatever you want, just please..."

Harry smirked to him as he wrapped the boa around her wrists, making sure it was tight, but not too tight to hurt her, before tying it to the back bar on the bottom, similar to the ones he had been holding earlier when he was lifting her in the air. The angle caused Rowan's back to arch slightly, and he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek knowing that it probably had her tits sitting up even better than before.

After standing up, he made his way back around the front, his dick twitching to life when he saw just how immaculate she looked. Almost completely at his mercy, Rowan peered up at him with parted lips, her chest heaving up and down.

"Whatever I want?" He asked, lowering himself down to the ground once more, his large hands traveling over the tops of her thighs.

"Yes, I just need-"

"Need me, huh?" Harry interrupted, a bit of a bite to his tone as one hand traveled right below Rowan's belly button, his fingers popping the button of her jeans open. "Thought I wasn't your type?"

His eyes held hers as he lowered her zipper, and then he moved his other hand up for them to both wrap around the waistband. Rowan lifted her hips blindly, and Harry began to pull her jeans down her legs.

Once they were off, he tossed them to the side, leaving her in just her top and a white lace thong.

"You're not," Rowan replied, clearly lying to not only Harry, but also herself now. "I just...you seem like you know what you're doing, and I need to get off."

That wasn't the answer Harry was looking for, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He went to push himself off the floor to leave, having every intention of leaving Rowan tied up to the chair out of spite, but she quickly realized what he was doing.

"W-wait, no, Harry," she spoke up quickly, her tone borderline begging at this point. "Fuck, okay, I was wrong! Alright? You swayed me, just like you said."

Harry kept his head down to hide the cocky grin that wanted to creep its way onto his lips. There was something about a woman begging for him anyway, but the fact that woman was Rowan, had him feeling so arrogant.

"You sure?" He jousted, wanting her to squirm a bit longer, perched onto the balls of his feet since he was pushing himself to stand just a few seconds ago. "You're not just saying that?"

Rowan groaned, throwing her head back in frustration as she stared at the ceiling. "Yes, I'm fucking sure. I'm not doing this with you. Either you get on with it, or you-"

She stopped speaking when she felt Harry's hand around her throat, not squeezing, but it was enough to get her to shut up. Harry felt her throat contract underneath his palm, signaling that she had swallowed hard, and he knew she was trying to keep her composure.

"No more talking from you for the time being unless you need me to stop, got it?"

Rowan tipped her chin down to look at Harry once more, and she nodded.

"Good girl," he cooed before dropping his hand to the top of her shirt.

His other hand came up as well, and he began to undo the small clasps that lined the front of the top, holding it together. Once they were all undone, Harry let the material hang on her shoulders, not making any movements to push it back to the creases of her arms to reveal more to him.

Leaning forward, Harry ghosted his lips over hers, both of their eyes still open and staring at each other. "Open up."

Rowan separated her lips, unsure of exactly what his next move was going to be. Sneaking his tongue out, Harry rolled the gum from his mouth into hers before sucking on her tongue just a bit. This caused her to mewl out, her hips wiggling against the chair before he popped off.

"Hold that for me, will you?"

To say Rowan was speechless would be an understatement. Even though Harry told her to stop talking, she didn't think she would even be able to at this point. Her eyes followed Harry as he completely lowered himself to his knees once more.

His long fingers hooked into the crotch of her thong, and her hips jolted up as his knuckles brushed across her sensitive clit. Harry sucked his teeth at her eagerness, wanting to tease and degrade her as much as possible. It seemed to get her off just as much as him.

"So fucking needy," he commented with a shake of his head.

Slowly, he dragged the thong down Rowan's thighs, and then down her legs before tossing them to the side with her jeans. The cold air caused her pussy to flutter, the angle she was at having her completely exposed to him already.

Harry hummed as he wrapped his hands around the tops of her thighs, pushing them apart to spread her even more for him. Her wetness had him growing fully hard in his briefs, and he ran his thumbs along the creases between her hips and her pelvis.

Looking into Rowan's eyes, he bit down on his bottom lip and pulled her forward, slinging her legs over his shoulders. The strain against Rowan's shoulders, and arms, in any other situation would be uncomfortable for her, but right now, it was just turning her on even more.

"All this for me?" He asked, kissing over the inside of one of her thighs.

Rowan groaned, forcing herself not to buck her hips up to meet his face already. She was completely drenched and desperate - needing to be touched more than she had ever felt in her life.

Harry ducked his head completely down between her thighs, licking a strip from her dripping entrance to her aching clit, and Rowan shuddered, eyes shutting tight with pleasure.

"You poor fucking thing," he taunted, kitten licking her pearl a few times before speaking again. "This deprived of true satisfaction that you're acting like you haven't even been touched in years."

As much as she wanted to snap back at him, she knew if she spoke out of turn that all of this could be over, and there was no way she was going to let that happen.

"I guess you can be obedient, hm? Don't worry, I'll let you talk again soon, but for right now - I need to focus."

Rowan let out a loud moan as Harry open mouth kissed her slit, the tip of his tongue prodding at her entrance before slipping inside. Her wrists strained against the boa as she arched her back even further, and she wasn't sure if it was going to hold for the entirety of this situation.

She didn't even notice that her top had slipped down her arms, but when Harry opened his eyes to check on her, he saw that her breasts were now on full display. Her pink nipples were hard, poking up towards the ceiling as she was snaking her torso around.

Harry hummed against Rowan at the sight, wishing he had something to ground his hips onto to relieve the ache he was currently dealing with.

He fucked her with his tongue, her heels digging into his back as he went more aggressively. It was obvious that he could get her to an orgasm easily with the way she was responding to him, and he wanted nothing more than to get her there.

Pulling back, he lifted himself up a bit, causing Rowan to squeak out in surprise when his mouth disconnected from her, and her legs moved higher. Harry's lips wiggled as he hovered over her chest, mixing both her arousal and saliva behind his teeth before spitting down onto one of her nipples. He lifted hand to cup the underside of that breast, swiping the pad of his thumb over her skin to spread the wetness around.

He turned his attention to her other breast, repeating the same action of spitting onto it, but this time he leaned down to seal his lips around her nipple. Rowan whined, completely folded in the chair under Harry's large frame at this point. He sucked against the pebbled bud before parting his lips, letting off a bit to allow the tip of his tongue flick over it again and again.

"Fuck," Rowan sighed with her head back on her shoulders, not even realizing she had spoken out of turn.

Harry smirked to himself, letting it slide as he could tell she was completely overcome with pleasure at this point. He kissed over both of her breasts before lowering himself back down, getting back to work on her dripping pussy - eyes shut tight from just how much he was enjoying going down on her. It was easy for Rowan to hear her wetness mixing with Harry's spit, the sound so erotic that a band was beginning to tighten in her lower abdomen.

Once he sank his tongue into her cunt once more, Rowan rocked her hips, her clit grinding against the bridge of Harry's perfect nose.

"O-oh," she moaned, still not realizing she was speaking at this point. "That's good, 's so good."

She was completely drunk off of his mouth, never having someone go down on her this deliciously before. Her thighs began to shake on each side of his head, and Harry was quick to wrap his arms underneath her legs to press his palms against the tops of them, fingertips digging into her skin.

Rowan's eyes fluttered open, and she could see his biceps twitching as he would tighten his grip against her plush flesh every now and then. Her breath was stolen from her as Harry's eyelids snapped open, the green of his eyes barely noticeable with how blown his pupils were.

"Oh fuck," Rowan almost screamed, tossing her head back. "Harry!"

Her orgasm washed over her, feeling like a tidal wave crashing over her body not once, but twice. She continued to grind herself against his nose, his tongue still fucking in and out of her before she slumped down into the chair. Her chest was heaving up and down as Harry carefully pulled her legs off from over his shoulders, setting her feet down flat on the floor.

"So sweet, Ro," he mumbled as he kissed up her body, licking over the roundness of one of her tits before nibbling on her jawline. "You're so fucked right now, aren't you?"

Rowan whimpered as Harry sucked at the hinge of her jaw, fighting once again against her restraint.

"Harry," she whispered, opening her eyes once he pulled away. He was looking down at her, head tilted to the side. "My hands...please."

Harry's eyebrows knitted together with concern, and he quickly shuffled around the back of the chair to undo the knot in the boa that was keeping her captive. He held her wrists in his hands for a minute, running his thumbs along the impressions that were left. They wouldn't bruise, he could tell that much, but they were terribly red.

He stood up and let them fall into Rowan's lap before walking to stand in front of her once more, watching as she shrugged her top all the way off now that her arms were free.

"Are you okay?" He asked, scooping her up, having her wrap her legs around his waist - very similar to the position they were in before, but he was holding her a bit lower this time so her face was level with his instead of above. He noticed she wasn't chewing, and he raised a brow. "What happened to my gum?"

Rowan sucked in a deep breath, resting her hands against Harry's chest. "Yeah, I'm okay, and I...I may have accidentally swallowed it."

Harry chuckled when he saw how embarrassed she was to admit that, and nodded at her before catching sight of the large arm chair against the back wall in the room. He smirked to himself as he began to walk them in that direction, giving Rowan time to recuperate, but she still looked at him with confusion.

"I got you pretty drunk off my tongue, that's for sure," he commented, dropping her to her feet.

Harry was quick in turning her around, and Rowan gasped out in surprise before he forced her down over the chair. Her torso hung over the bottom cushion, hands gripping to one of the arm rests while her hips were pressed against the other.

"But I wanna see how drunk I can get you off of my cock, hm?"

Rowan's eyes shut and she moaned just at his words. A few minutes ago, she would've been ashamed having that reaction to something so simple, but she didn't care at this point. All she wanted was him inside her. She needed it.

Harry quickly disregarded his briefs, kicking them to the side. One of his hands encompassed her hip, thumb massaging against her lower back. Licking over her bottom lip, Rowan took a peek over her shoulder, her eyes growing large as she saw Harry's thick and leaking prick, his other hand stroking himself a bit.

"Do you have a condom?" He asked, puffing out some air that he had gathered in his cheeks.

Rowan flushed an even deeper red as she shook her head. "N-no, I don't usually bring men back to my place for this kind of thing. I'm paranoid...I don't like them knowing where I live."

Harry groaned, his eyes slipping shut as he gave himself a squeeze to try and relieve more of the ache he felt in his shaft. "Are you on birth control? Are you clean?"

"Yes - to both. I just got tested last week, but I always use protection during hookups. I get tested just for peace of mind."

"Well, I'm clean too, just got tested a few days ago, and same for me. If we do this, this is the first time I'm going without a condom in years," he grunted out, stilling his hand as he felt like he could bust just talking about being raw inside of her.

"I'm okay with it if you are."

Their eyes held each other for a moment before they each gave a small nod.

"Face forward, Ro," Harry instructed, and Rowan listened, clutching to the chair as she stared at the wall ahead.

Harry dragged his tip through her slick slit a few times, biting down on his bottom when he could feel just how wet she was from her previous orgasm and from his mouth. He popped inside her, feeling her clench around the thickest part of him, and he moaned, head rolling back on his shoulders.

"Tight fucking cunt," he muttered under his breath as Rowan mewled, going to pull away from him when she felt the burning stretch happening.

Harry quickly brought his hand down to spank against one of her ass cheeks, watching it jiggle before he gripped to her hips. "Where the hell do you think you're going? You wanted it. You're going to fucking take it."

Not giving her any more time to adjust, Harry used the leverage he had from her hips, and pulled her down while thrusting his hips forward - filling her up entirely in one go.

Rowan gasped out, legs trembling as she pushed onto her tiptoes, her lower back arching as she buried her face into the crease of her arm. He was so big - his thickness and length filling her to the brim, and even though it was painful, she was in utter bliss.

Harry oscillated his jaw before pulling out to his tip, he eased himself back in, slower this time and her walls fluttered around him deliciously. "God damn," he groaned with a shake of his head.

His tip was snug against her g-spot, and Rowan huffed out when she felt him twitch inside her.

Pulling back once more, Harry decided that was all the adjusting he was going to let her do. He began to fuck into her at a steady and hard rhythm, the sound of their skin slapping together quickly filling the room - the music playing in the background doing nothing to drown it out.

"Oh, you like it fucking dirty and rough, huh?" Harry jousted into her ear as he lowered his chest to be flush against Rowan's back, humming to himself when he could feel her pulse around him as he stilled his movements. "I knew you weren't as clean and pristine as you tried to be. Underneath that uptight exterior, you just want to be fucked like a whore, don't you?"

Rowan couldn't find it in herself to answer him, completely fucked from his impressive cock even if they had really just started.

Although Harry was already flat against her, hips pressed firmly against her ass, he thrusted his hips forward after a few moments of not receiving an answer - causing a scream like moan to rattle in Rowan's throat. "I said, you just want to be fucked like a whore, don't you?"

"Y-yes, yes, yes," Rowan stammered out, hands gripping to the armrest, nails sinking into the cloth material. "Fuck me like a whore, please. Your whore."

Harry growled, taking her earlobe between his teeth as he drilled his hips into her ass harder - starting up a fresh rhythm. Little sounds left Rowan's throat with each thrust, her mouth hanging wide open as she became completely overcome with ecstasy.

As fun as it was, and as deep as it was taking her this way, Harry also wanted to see Rowan's face, and feel her hands on him.

He pulled out of her abruptly, causing Rowan to collapse against the chair with a whine.

"Turn around," Harry demanded, and Rowan did so with shaky legs, reaching out to grasp to his forearms to keep her up straight once she faced him.

Harry's hands found her hips once again blindly, and he patted the palm of his hand against one of them. "Jump."

Rowan moved her hands to Harry's shoulders, jumping as she was told before he walked them over to the couch. He fell back against it, and Rowan situated herself so that she was straddling him properly. Her hand moved down to wrap around him, stroking him a few times before sliding him back inside of her.

They both sighed out once she sank down completely on him, her fingertips digging into his skin. Rowan stared into Harry's eyes as she began to roll her hips with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Harry's eyes danced over her face before he cupped her cheeks in his hands.

He tilted her head back a bit, but Rowan kept up her movements and still held his eyes. Harry moved both of his thumbs to press the pads of them against her bottom lip, pulling it out of her mouth.

"Fuck it," he mumbled before leaning forward, clashing his lips against hers.

Harry had been wondering whether or not he wanted to kiss her, as he found that to be somewhat intimate, but he didn't fucking care anymore. He knew the way her pussy tasted, he also needed to fully know the way her mouth did too. He only got a little hint of it when he sucked on her tongue earlier.

Rowan moaned into his mouth as she circled her hips, grinding down against him. His hands slipped down her back before grasping her ass cheeks, the tips of her fingers clutching to the crease between them and the back of her thighs.

Their tongues tangled together in a sloppy manner, but neither of them cared. They were so caught up in the moment, so caught up in each other. They both felt everything, from the tops of their heads to the tips of their toes. This was the best sex either of them had ever had by far.

"That's it, Ro," Harry coaxed her as Rowan leaned back a bit, cupping the tops of Harry's knees as she continued to ride him.

Her eyes slipped shut, head hanging back on her shoulders while Harry moved his hands to her breasts. He kneaded them skillfully, pinching one of her nipples between his fingers. Rowan cried out, panting into the open air as her thighs began to shake again.

Harry could tell he was also nearing his own orgasm, and he brought one of his hands around to the back of her head. He ran his fingers down and through her hair before taking it into his palm. Wrapping it around his hand, he yanked her head back and Rowan gasped, beginning to slam her hips down against Harry's.

"You're so big," she moaned, earning another tug to her scalp - the sting causing her to clench around Harry's dick.

"Got you dumb off my cock, yeah? And here you were, trying to act like you didn't like what you saw from the very fucking beginning, but you did, didn't you? You just couldn't admit it to yourself."

Rowan groaned, knowing that he was right, but she didn't want to confess. Harry quickly let go of her hair, grasping her hips to still her, and she straightened herself up, looking at him with a pout on her lips.

"Answer the fucking question, and I'll let you ride me until we both come. If you don't, I'll make you sit back in that chair, tie you up once more, and make you watch me finish myself off with my own hand," he threatened, the tip of his nose pressed against hers.

Their chests were rising and falling rapidly as they stared at each other. Rowan's jaw was tight, really not wanting to come clean in the way that he was asking.

"Fuck you," she snarled through clenched teeth.

Harry smirked at her, beginning to lift her off of him, but she immediately wrapped her arms around the his neck, both hands clutching to his hair. She gripped at his curls, tugging his head back much like he had just done to her.

"Don't even think about it," she said, nipping at his bottom lip with her teeth.

"Then admit it," he challenged.

She clenched around him again, even though he was halfway out, and he moaned, causing her to yank his curls once more.

"I'm not fucking kidding, Rowan, tell me. I want to hear you say it."

Knowing that her orgasm was right around the corner, Rowan let out a noise of frustration. "Fine, you're right. I thought you were attractive from the moment I laid eyes on your page, are you happy?"

Harry leaned forward, sealing their lips together as he pulled her down onto him fully once again. With his hands still on Rowan's hips, he moved his legs to part them further, and he began fucking up into her at an accelerated pace.

A tingle festered at the bottom of Rowan's spine, and she felt it starting to spread in both directions, creeping up her back to her neck, and down into her thighs.

"I'm...I'm," she stammered, barely being able to speak. "Coming. I'm coming, Harry. I'm..."

Gasping out against his mouth, Rowan reached her peak, her second orgasm of the night taking her over as she gushed around Harry's cock. Harry looked down to watch her arousal cover him, and he shoved his face into the side of her neck as he reached his own climax - continuing to thrust up into her to ride both of them out completely.

Their sweaty bodies clung to each other for a moment, Harry slouching back onto the couch, and Rowan collapsing against his chest.

His eyes blinked open, and he stared at the ceiling when he felt Rowan get up abruptly. Sitting up, he watched as she raced around her living room, picking up her clothes. "You need to go," she snapped, shaking her head as she walked down the hall.

Harry sighed, running a hand over his face as he got up as well. He gathered his own articles of clothing before heading into her guest room. After cleaning himself up in the bathroom, he changed back into the clothes he had arrived in, shoving his leather suit and boots into his duffel bag. He walked towards the front door, pulling his card out of his pocket, grabbing a pen from the drawer of the table that was against her foyer wall.

He quickly scribbled on it before heading into the kitchen to see Rowan clutching to the counter, gulping down a fresh glass of wine.

"No one can know about this. Do you understand, Harry?" She asked, not making eye contact with him.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, "No fucking shit, Rowan, I could lose my job. You technically paid me for this, and I slept with you, that's not what my agency does. If it gets back to Steven, I'll be fired."

After a moment, Rowan's eyes met his as she licked over her bottom lip. "Okay then, so we both know to shut up about this."

Harry walked forward, tossing his business card on the counter. "Next time, just call me directly," he told her, and when he saw her mouth open to respond, he quickly held his hand up. "Don't try and fucking argue with me. You and I both know you won't be able to stay away. I know I won't."

Rowan watched as Harry turned around and walked out of her front door. She picked the card up off the counter, seeing it was for the agency. Her eyebrows narrowed, but she quickly flipped it over to eye another number written on the back, and she came to the conclusion he had given her his cell number.

And she knew he was right. There was no way she was going to be able to stay away now that she had had him.

(You can find part two here)

#harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #oneshot #harry styles one shot #one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles smutty one shot #one-shot #harry styles ff

[lesbolieeh]

Margarita (m)

Inexperienced!Subby!Jihyo ✦ Experienced!Fem!Reader

WC—4.7 ✦ k

WARNING—sex w/ a woman for the first time ✦ very intimate not-kinky sex ✦ praising ✦ body worship ✦ oral (giving, receiving) ✦ face-sitting (receiving) ✦ 69 ✦ fingering (giving, receiving) ✦ multiple orgasms (giving) ✦ nipple play ✦ hickeys (giving, receiving) ✦ pet names (baby, babe) ✦ brief dirty talk ✦ breath play & masturbation if you squint ✦ crying ✦ mentions of alcohol consumption

THEMES—nsfw ✦ first girl crush au ✦ summer love ✦ friends to ...? ✦ a bit angsty at times

NOW PLAYING—Mystery of Love ✦ Sufjan Stevens

A/N. this was the first time I tried writing a smut that didn't have any clear power dynamics and I rly liked writing it! I don't think all smut needs to have a dom x sub. So to those of you requesting smut, don't feel pressured to pick "kinky" stuff like spanking, bondage, "mommy", choking etc because oral, 69, fingering, hickeys, body worship, praising etc can be picked as "kinks" too — besides I'm a smut writer I can't judge u lmaooo

M.LISTS—twice ✦ latest updates ✦ read on wp

All rights reserved © lesbolieeh

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"I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier," you heard Jihyo's voice from beside you. You two were sitting on a bench in the park you two had first hung out. Dahyun, your best friend, and you had been sitting at a bar and Jihyo had been there too — except with the company of a tall dude. She had been too distracted looking at him and you had been too distracted laughing at one of your comedian bestie's jokes, which resulted in Jihyo walking into you, spilling both of your drinks in the process. Like the decent people you both were, you apologized and even proposed repaying each other and smiled when you realized that you both had ordered margaritas.

So you drank margaritas all night, forgetting about then saying bye to Dahyun and that guy, until the bar closed and you decided to buy this one special large sized margarita to share at the park not too far away. By the end of the laugh-filled night (which quickly turned into morning), you had a feeling that you'd see each other a lot more afterwards. And you were right. Ever since that sunrise told you to part ways and leave one big margarita glass by the bar's door, you had made it a tradition to buy one every Friday to share as you chat and giggle on the same bench at the same park under the moonlight until another sunrise would tell you it's time to go.

As you had gotten to know each other, you found out the guy at the bar was her boyfriend Daniel, and she found out you were going to leave Korea at the end of the summer. After that, you'd made a promise you'd try to spend as much time together as possible over the sweet summer before you'd fly away.

"Are you drunk?" you asked, shaking your head at her words.

One day she'd called you over to her place, crying on the phone. Her then-boyfriend had broken up with her, claiming she didn't show him love. But the part that shocked you was that she confessed he was right. So why had she been crying? A guy she didn't have feelings for broke up with her...that wasn't a bad thing, right?

"No."

"I saw a margarita on your story before you got here. You know I'm very familiar with JYP bar."

"It was margarita, yes, but it was alcohol-free."

"Oh."

"I know you're going away next week but I needed to tell you before I lost the chance to say it."

"Damn."

"I know. I'm fucking sorry but I've never had feelings for a woman before. Shit, I didn't even know I was into women but it explains why I never had strong feelings for any of my exes."

She looked down at your hand, feeling tears building up in her eyes. Fuck. Not only had she confessed to you but you didn't seem to reciprocate. Fuck. Had she ruined the last week with you?

"I like you too."

"W-What..." she stuttered, beginning to smile for the first time tonight.

You put your hand on hers, intertwining your fingers, "Let's make the best out of this last week we have together."

She intertwined your fingers in return, looking at them and smiling big. "Yes."

As to not waste time, you took a cab to her place immediately. Typical queer stereotype to move on to sex so damn fucking fast. Well, typically queer people in a conservative country have a harder time confessing to each other in fear of rejection and possible hate crime, so when you finally muster up courage and get accepted, you often feel the need to move quickly to make up for all the time you could've but didn't spend together. And you two only had a week left together, might as well fuck every day since you hadn't done that even once over the whole damn fucking summer. What a fucking waste to overthink and overanalyze possible outcomes of a confession to the point that you delay the confession until one week before one of you has to leave the country. So fucking typical that two women who like each other don't say shit because they don't want to make the other person uncomfortable or ruin the perfect fucking connection they have with one another. Fuck.

Soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, you locked the door and captured her lips with yours. It was the first kiss she'd ever shared with a woman and she wanted to melt into you and stay lips to lips forever. So this was how a kiss should feel? All this time she had thought she was weird for not liking kissing or foreplay but now she understood what the problem was: she had never genuinely liked any of her previous partners. You took a few steps, not letting go of her lips, until Jihyo's back met the wall. She smiled with a blush. She had never smiled into a kiss before. But she felt...happy? Maybe just content? Or maybe she just felt good that she's doing shit people her age should be doing: making out with people they find attractive? Eh, maybe she was just exaggerating because this was a new experience for her? (No, her happiness was not an exaggeration.)

Then you put your hands on her cheeks gently. Gently, as in to feel her softness, feel her skin, feel her smile on your hands. In the past, her exes had put their hands on her face to keep her from breaking the kiss or to assert dominance. Damn. These fuckers had no idea what they were doing. But you... You made her smile! You made her blush. You made her feel comfortable and beautiful.

After a while you broke the kiss, Jihyo's lips following yours in the air, which made her a bit embarrassed until you said "Shall we continue?" with a soft voice that made her feel safe and not judged. Jihyo nodded, giggling when you held your hands out for her to carry her bridal style. Height was actually an insecurity of hers but this action made her feel small in a good way, in a way that made her feel beautiful actually. Then she began blushing again, realizing you were carrying her to your bedroom, a place you'd only ever hung out at to talk, drink something that wasn't margarita or do the most random shit you'd think of when you were bored at night after a long day of work.

But now this casual, 'friend' place would be where you were going to have sex. It made her smile. Oh how many times she'd imagined you two fucking and cuddling on this very bed. You weren't just walking into the bedroom, you were carrying her as if she were your bride. Holy shit. As soon as you were inside you put her down on the bed and sat down next to her.

"I think we should talk about preferences and boundaries before we continue," you said because communication is key (lmao). "I can start," you knew she'd most likely be too embarrassed to tell everything if she went first, "My main thing is I really like oral and fingering and I usually cum from clit stimulation rather than penetration. I tend to take more initiative during sex, but I am open to you doing that if you'd like. Actually there doesn't need to be any power roles in sex we can just have fun either way. Also I really like talking during sex. Hmm... I prefer not doing any anal stuff on me, if you would like me to do that on you I'm OK with that. I do own a toy collection at home so if you have any vibrators I'm OK with using that too." During your little speech Jihyo was smiling and trying not to blush, never hearing this type of conversation before (you don't hear the word 'sex' much in Korea). "I also would like to talk...during, hum, sex," she felt pressure with what to say, scared you would forever judge her based on the next words that would come out her mouth. You noticed she avoided eye contact, seeming nervous. "Jihyo, I'm no angel, you know. As long as you're not into rape I will not judge your preferences or boundaries," you held her hand, squeezing it lightly. She took a breath, bit more relaxed at the physical touch, "Mm, I like intimacy, like eye contact and such. Maybe hugging each other? I like both clit stimulation and penetration. I've never done this with a girl before so I would be more comfortable if you lead more I think." Her ears were red as were her cheeks. You brought her small hand to your face and kissed the back of it, which didn't help with her blush but at least it made her feel cared for (and wet).

You opened her hand and kissed each finger before putting her hand against your cheek to lean on. Jihyo put her other hand on your other cheek, leaning in to kiss you, smiling against each other. Kissing her felt like walking on clouds. Fluffy, pastel colored clouds. You continued kissing her, wanting to make sure she was wet and excited before you did anything to her (the last thing you wanted was to make her fake orgasm) and she only appreciated the longer fore play.

"May I?" you asked between kisses, pulling lightly on the bottom of her shirt to which she nodded still smiling. Maybe the margarita she had earlier wasn't alcohol-free since she was smiling so damn much. She almost felt embarrassed at her actions until you mirrored her expression and smiled too as you gave a few more kisses to her lips, reassuring her that smiling is never a bad action. She was so pretty. Her tan skin glowed like gold. Pulling her by her her thighs onto your lap so she was taller (lol), you had better access to her collarbones and chest and started kissing her neck lightly and hugging her waist closer to you. Her heart was beating fast, never looking forward to sex this much before. For every kiss you placed on her neck and down to her shoulder, she felt wetter and wetter. You started teasing her tit under her bra, as your other hand went down her pants to her lower back, not yet going to her butt or underwear, all while you kept kissing her collarbones so gently. She put her hands on your hair and started pushing your head to the tit that wasn't getting any attention, too shy to actually say what she wants. You got the memo and started kissing the part of her boob that was exposed from the bra but it wasn't enough so Jihyo took off her bra completely, showing her breathtakingly beautiful boobs. You started kissing harder on her boob, ignoring the nipple for now to tease her. When you heard her gasping and whining you gained confidence and started sucking on her nipple and pinching the other, while unbuttoning her pants with one hand (which was hard but you managed after a few seconds thankfully).

She got off your lap and you helped her take off her tight pants, leaving her in her blue underwear before pulling her back on your lap. You kissed her on her lips, she smiled and took off your shirt, hoped you couldn't see her blush. She was a bit shy now, having never seen a woman's tits in a sexual context before. You giggled, making her pout, and you placed her hand on your boob. Wow. It was softer than she thought; she was so used to the softness of feeling her own boobs that when she touched your boobs she was amazed by the feeling. No wonder people love boobs so much! She brought her other hand to play with both your boobs, exploring and enjoying. You on the other hand, began to touch and grab her lush, thick thighs. After feeling all her curves and edges you moved one hand to her inner thigh and felt something wet. Jihyo was a bit embarrassed. She had gotten so wet it was dripping down the inside of her thighs. "Aw, so wet for me already, Baby?" you looked up at her with a genuine smile, proud. She nodded, trying not to look you in the eyes. "I love it." She nodded again, now going down to suck on your tits to avoid looking you in the eyes. Now it was your turn to make noise, Jihyo not going gentle. You looked down at her, "You look so pretty from this point of view." She looked up at you, her mouth still on your skin. "Thank you." You put some hair away from her face, then resting your hand on her cheek to move her to your other boob that hadn't felt any oral stimulation yet. Your fingertips ghosted over her back, making her shiver slightly, before resting on her butt, grabbing and playing with it. She moaned against your boob accidentally using her teeth a bit, you moaned too.

You started feeling under the fabric covering her intimate parts, but only under the edge to tease her. Jihyo was getting needy and impatient. She got off your lap to take off your pants, and before you knew it you were stood staring at each other in only underwear. You opened your arms for her and hugged her closely, just breathing in each others arms, kissing her shoulder or your collarbone randomly. She looked you in the eyes and felt regret; regret that she or you hadn't confessed earlier. You too. You had liked her since the beginning but you had been scared of rejection or ruining such a good friendship. But you had each other now and that was all that mattered. Better late than never, right? You held each others soft cheeks and almost communicated with your eyes, I never want this to end, and kissed each other. This time it was more desperate and with roaming hands all over each others bodies before you led her to the bed to lay down. This was the bed that you two had laid on to watch movies on Netflix and Disney+, play drinking games during the movie which resulted in at least two empty soju bottles next to the bed. Now this would be the bed you would fuck in. She was ready because she also remembered every time you would go to the bathroom and she would wait in bed and look at your butt as you walked away and question if she was into girls or just liked looking at your butt out of curiosity. And you remembered every time she would go to the bathroom or to the kitchen to grab us a snack, and you would have a pep talk with yourself about telling her about your little crush. And now you were here. In that same bed. Filled with memories. But now with you two almost naked. Her on her back and you sat between her legs.

You kissed her one more time on her lips before moving down, placing butterfly kisses all the way down her chest to her stomach and stopping right above her core. She looked at you, expecting you to remove her undies. You lowered the underwear, she was breathing louder, you stopped when her hip bone was exposed, kissed it, then let the fabric cover her again. Jihyo whined. You smiled against her skin, kissing down her leg and to her inner thigh, giving an experimental lick. "Please." The wetness between your legs was getting uncomfortable at this point and you wanted to just take off your panties and sit on her face but you had to suppress your intrusive thoughts and be slow and gentle since this was your first time together — it was also her first time ever with a woman — so you just pressed your thighs against each other for the slightest stimulation. "Please what, Baby?" you asked kissing her other inner thigh, grabbing both of them with your hands. "Ngh— Can you— Can you touch it?" You gave one more big kiss to her thigh before moving to her face, "Anything for you," you pecked her lips. She opened her legs wider as you went down to give you more space, you looked at her before going down and pulling down her panties, her wetness sticking to them. You threw them away to some corner in the room and put your face in front of her pussy. She held out her hand towards you and you smiled, grabbing it before putting small kisses on her lips, avoiding her clit and slit for now. Jihyo was gasping and blushing. You pushed your tongue lightly through her slit and up to her clit, she squeezed your hand. You started kissing on her slit and clit too, gently, worshipping her body. She whined. "Please, ____." You kissed her clit, you looked at her, "Please, what, Baby?" She felt too shy to say it so she just put her free hand on your hair and pushed your face in her pussy. You took the hint and began licking. She felt relieved to finally being stimulated more harshly like she had craved all this time, accidentally pulling your hair. Pulling your hair wasn't an issue but it was hurting a bit so you held her wrist to tell her. "Oh sorry, Babe, I was getting carried away," Jihyo apologised, now moving your hair away from your eyes. You smiled. Omg she called you "Babe"!! You were determined to make her cum with only your mouth at least once before you finger her. "I love your taste, Baby," you whispered before going back to licking her luscious pussy. She blushed. You pulled her thighs closer to you, wanting to feel her softness on your neck and shoulders. This made Jihyo blush more but also more confident. You held eye contact with each other, hands intertwined, your other hand playing with her boob and pinching her nipple. "You look really pretty from this point of view," she said with a smirk. You smiled, arching your back so she had an even prettier view. She gulped. Everything was getting dizzy. Her clit was being licked exactly how she liked it and you noticed so you kept that same pace. Her chest was getting red and hot. Her hand was sweaty. Her moans were stuck in her throat. Her breathing was irregular. Her view was breathtaking. She saw your hand reaching down between our legs, playing with yourself while eating Jihyo out. She pushed you closer to her pussy, thighs closing in on you, hand squeezing yours harder, head falling back, eyes closed, she saw white. You continued riding her orgasm out with your gentle tongue until she felt overstimulated and unclenched her thighs from you.

As she regained her breathing to normal, you crawled up to lay beside her and hug her, pulling her into your chest. She put her face in your neck, taking in your scent and warmth. You weren't sure how high her sex drive was or if she liked cumming multiple times since you forgot to ask during your sex discussion so you thought this was enough for your first time together. But then Jihyo did something. She sat up, pulled off your underwear, proud when she noticed the wet stain, threw the panties away. This night was not over yet. She kissed your cheek and then moved around until her face was above your pussy and her pussy was in front of your face. "Please, let me know if I'm doing alright or if I should do something else," was the last thing she said before she lowered her head to your pussy and began licking. "Fuck." You didn't realise how wet you had become until now when the smallest of touch from her tongue had you moaning. "Baby, go slow, please." She whined back in response, only giving you kitten licks and holding back from devouring the sweet taste of pussy for the first time. You began kissing her inner thighs, making her twitch a bit from sensitivity. "Can I eat your pussy again or do you need some time?" Jihyo blushed. How can you say such words so neutrally? Mhm, she nodded and moaned against your pussy, which sent vibrations against your clit. You pushed her pussy closer to your face and began kissing it again. Jihyo whined against your pussy, she loved this feeling of a little "foreplay" on the pussy before licking it hard. She noted that she should start off slow next time she gives you head.

You noticed that although you pushed her pussy towards you, she still kept it in the air, not sitting on your face. "Baby, you can sit on you face," you encouraged her and gave a big kiss to her clit. She finally sat down on your face and you began licking between her lips deeper and quicker. She couldn't help but keep moaning against your pussy, and the vibrations felt so good, making you moan on her too. You began moving your hands on her thighs up to her ass, keeping them there and just grabbing the fatness. She was feeling a bit jealous because you could touch her all you wanted while she had to hold herself up on her arms which was getting harder and harder. She let go of your clit, sat up on your chest, "Babe, can I be on the bottom?" You smiled at her, "Of course, Baby." She just plopped down on the bed with a smile, comfortable now that she didn't need to use her arm muscles. "You're too cute." "Thank you, ____." You flipped around and moved your pussy to her face, her eyes lightening up. Before you even sat down she grabbed your hips and pushed you down, impatient and needy to have the experience of a woman sitting on her face. You were more experienced in this and laid down comfortably, spreading her legs to eat her out too. Your pussies were prepared and didn't need any of the gentle kissing or kitten licks anymore, you opting to lick fast and deep between her folds, and her licking fast but gently on your clit in a steady pace. To Jihyo's surprise, you began grinding on her face, making her proud she was taking you there. Moaning and shaking, it was getting hard to focus on pleasuring each other.

So, you sat up on the bed, beside Jihyo. She was breathing heavily, confused, whining, "Why?" You kissed her forehead, "Come lay with me on the pillows." She followed you to the big pillows, you laid on the right side and Jihyo on the left side of the bed, the natural way to lay down just like every time you had watched movies as friends. You started kissing her, hands roaming on her boobs, back, butt and back of her thighs, pulling her left thigh on top of your hip — this gave you more access to her pussy so you began to tease your fingertips on her lower lips. She whined. You pushed your right leg up so she also had access to your pussy, and in a second her hand was playing with your folds, starting off slowly before inserting her fingers in you. You kept making out, savouring each others red, swollen lips and tastes on your tongues. She slid a finger between your lips to get your wetness so she could finger your clit better (she remembered you prefer clit stimulation more than penetration), making you moan into her mouth. Damn, it was her first time but she was so good. Who would've known she was ambidextrous? (She's both left handed and right handed) You put a finger inside her and she gasped, making you smile in revenge, since it slipped in so easily from being so wet you fit in another finger, moving them in and out at a moderate speed, not wanting to make her cum yet. "I could do this forever, Baby." Your words hurt Jihyo because you both knew this couldn't last forever; you would leave the country soon — and she wishes this only determined her to make you cum from her fingers but she couldn't distract herself from the future heartbreak, tears filling her eyes that she blinks away before you can notice. She stops kissing you to look at you, she wants to say something but hesitates question just decides to make a hickey on your shoulder. You giggled, "You're out of this world, Baby." She felt tears build up again, you kept calling her Baby as if you've been girlfriends all along — as if you're girlfriends right now! What are you even? A couple? Friends with benefits? A summer fling? A future long distance relationship that will inevitably end with you two neglecting each other due to your conflicting schedules and different time zones? Fuck. She had sucked on your shoulder very harshly and bitten it too. It looked like a black bird tattoo. "I'm sorry, ____ Babe, you have a hickey now," she kissed it gently as too soothe the hot skin. "It's OK. I haven't had a hickey in a long time. Never on my shoulder," you giggled. Jihyo smiled, both happy and sad at the same time. "Can u make one on me too? In a hidden place?" She wants to remember this moment for the next few days every time she looks at herself in the mirror. Yet she blushes when u move ur head to make a hickey on her boob, opting for the curve under her nipple, sucking and biting. Simultaneously, your fingers were going deeper and faster until Jihyo starts whining and you decide to keep that tempo. She starts moving her fingers harder on your clit, with the same tempo as before, making you moan and bite down on her boob. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you said. She whined, "M-Me too." You began kissing again until both of your legs were shaking and you had to stop to breathe.

After a few minutes of just laying down and looking at each other, you decide to get up and run a bath before you two fall asleep in your cum and wetness stained sheets. "Wait for me, Baby. I'll just get the bath ready for us," you kissed her forehead. Jihyo smiled but it fell once she was left alone with her thoughts. Should she sleep in your bed or go home like she always did after hanging out at your place? If she sleeps in your bed it's almost as if going official, right? If she goes home like she always does then it means that this was just a one night stand or a fwb thing, right? Fuck. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Suddenly you were back in the room. "Come, Baby," you carried her to the bathroom and let her step into the bathtub on her own because you're not the hulk. You followed suit, laying behind her. The water was warm and relaxing, cleaning you off of your cum, sweat and tears. You hugged her waist, Jihyo's rested back on your shoulder and chest, you leaning your head on hers, kissing it a few times. But although the water was calming, both your brains were racing. What now? You had an incredible connection. You had so many beautiful memories together, including this one. You've laughed and cried so many times together, now also coming a few times together. How could you let go of this? How could you keep this going at a long distance? A tear fell down Jihyo's cheek. You kissed her tear away. "It's OK. It will all be fine." Tears were falling down your cheeks too.

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

❝ How much sorrow can I take?

Blackbird on my shoulder

And what difference does it make

When this love is over?

Shall I sleep within your bed?

River of unhappiness

Hold your hands upon my head

'Til I breathe my last breath

Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me

The last time that you touched me

Oh, will wonders ever cease?

Blessed be the mystery of love ❞

—sufjan stevens; 2017

#sub!jihyo #sub!twice #dom!reader #sub!kpop #sub!idol #gxg smut #angsty smut #gxg imagine #twice smut #jihyo smut #twice x fem reader #jihyo x fem reader #wlw kpop #girl group smut #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #twice blurbs #twice imagines #twice scenarios #jihyo imagines #jihyo x reader #twice x reader #sub jihyo #sub twice #dom reader #sub kpop #sub idol #gxg #girl group angst #twice angst

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part VII

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: So happy to be able to post this after yesterday's fiasco! I know I said this would be the last chapter but apparently I can't stop haha WHOOPS! This story seemed way shorter in my head lol So, yeah, there will be another chapter after this one.

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: swearing, angst, fluff, suggestive language and themes, annoying af ex-boyfriend, TALL & PROTECTIVE Rooster (swoon) - look at me saving the best for last XD

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Let’s go,” Bradley says in a low voice, his face still far too close to yours for you to see much more than the mustache above his lip.

“Right now?” you ask, slightly bewildered by the urgency in his tone.

“Right now,” he breathes, starting to usher you toward the doors.

“Okay,” you say, trying to conceal your disappointment. “Let’s get our stuff,” you add, reluctantly detaching yourself from Bradley’s embrace to head back to the table. But as you are making you way through the flurry of dancing guests, Bradley’s hand finds yours in the darkness while he trails in your wake.

“Are you leaving, Y/N?” your mother asks as you collect your purse from the chair.

You look up at her guiltily. “Uh, yeah,” you say. “We’re kind of tired.”

Your mother eyes you suspiciously, then her gaze shifts to Bradley who is gathering his jacket. “Have a good night,” she says.

You nod quickly and turn to leave. Then, you hear Bradley speak, “Congratulations, ma’am. On your daughter’s marriage.”

“Thank you, Bradley,” your mother responds. “I suppose I should also thank you for not throwing Steven into the lake.”

Bradley chuckles. “There’s always tomorrow.”

You turn around to see a faint smile pass over your mother’s lips. “Yes, well, I’m starting to understand why you might want to,” she says.

Bradley’s grin widens. “I appreciate that, ma’am.”

Bradley glances back at you and offers his arm. You hook your hand through it as the two of you make your way toward the exit. Bradley opens the door for you to step outside. The wind picks up your hair and your skirt but, before you can start to shiver, you feel Bradley’s jacket drop over your shoulders as he walks past. The faint scent of his cologne still lingers on the collar.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as he skips down the steps toward the walkway.

He holds his hand out to help you descend and you take it hesitantly, letting go of him the moment you’re on the sidewalk. Bradley seems equally uneasy, walking a few steps away from you, his hands in his pockets.

The two of you stroll quietly up the path toward the beach. By the time you reach the boardwalk, the silence becomes noticeably uncomfortable, and you decide to address the issue head-on. “That was weird, right?” you say.

Bradley glances over at you, his eyes raking over your figure before meeting your gaze. “Was it?” he asks.

You bite forcefully into your bottom lip, your pace slowing considerably at his words. “Don’t you think it was weird?” you ask.

Bradley’s expression is inscrutable as he shrugs, looking over your shoulder at something in the distance. “It was alright,” he says, turning away to continue walking.

You pull at the collar of his jacket to wrap it tighter around your body, not overly pleased with his casual attitude concerning an incident that still has your head spinning and your stomach contents churning. It would be better if he’d found the situation awkward because then, at least, you’d know that your friendship is something he means to preserve once this is all over. The fact that he’s so nonchalant about the matter bothers you. “Are you mad at me still?” you ask, wondering if some lingering animosity might explain his indifference.

Bradley looks down at his feet and then over at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wasn’t mad at you.”

You chuckle wryly. “Okay.”

Bradley stops walking so you come to a halt as well. “Are you mad at me?”

You shrug, not entirely sure how you feel.

Bradley purses his lips, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He watches you for a few moments before speaking. “For the record, I wasn’t interrogating your sister,” he says. “She offered that information.”

You nod, your gaze dropping to the wooden planks of the boardwalk, the distance between you and him like a barrier neither of you is willing to cross. The tension in your midst isn’t the sexy kind. It’s cold and quiet, as if you are each too stubborn to engage in polite conversation. “Yeah,” you respond glumly.

Bradley is watching you carefully, probably trying to decipher the one-word response you just gave. He looks like he might want to add to the discussion but, after another several seconds of silence, he seems to change his mind. He turns and starts to walk again. “Come on,” he says, going ahead. “Before you freeze.”

“You kind of bailed on me,” you say quietly, trailing behind him.

Bradley slows his pace, glancing over his shoulder at you.

“You started grilling me about my whereabouts this morning” –

“I was grilling you?” Bradley rounds on you.

“It was the worst possible time to have that conversation.”

Bradley scoffs. “So, according to you, I’m just going around interrogating everyone.”

You glare at him as he shakes his head. “And then you just walked away all pissed off like I was the one who offended you,” you continue despite the obvious resentment on his face.

“You did offend me!” he yells.

“You could’ve just told me that you didn’t ask her.”

Bradley watches you steadily. “I shouldn’t have had to. Do you really think that I would?”

Your teeth graze your lip as you lower your head so you wouldn’t have to contend with the intensity of his gaze. “I get that I ticked you off, but, well” – you sigh – “never mind.”

“What?” he asks, stepping into your path when you start to walk again.

“I said, ‘never mind’,” you respond impatiently, trying to walk around him.

He holds his hand out to stop you. “Tell me,” he says, his fingers closing around your arm.

You bite into the inside of your cheek. “I was counting on you,” you mutter, not looking at his face. “I mean, you came back, which I appreciate,” you add. “But, that entire first half of the evening kind of sucked,” you say, staring at the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt. His neck is smooth and strangely attractive, and you start to wonder bitterly if there is any part of Bradley Bradshaw that you might consider simply mediocre.

His hand slips down the sleeve of his jacket over your arm, stopping to close around the tips of your fingers. “Your hand is freezing,” he says.

“Well, it’s fucking cold,” you retort.

Bradley snorts, but you’re still avoiding his gaze. He takes your other hand so that he could cup both your hands in his. You stare at his long fingers wrapped around your fists, detesting that every single thing he does makes you fall deeper and harder. But soon, the heat from his hands is soothing your tense muscles enough that you even take a slim step forward out of sheer necessity for warmth. Bradley’s hands tighten around yours, his eyes looking you up and down a couple of times.

After another few seconds of silence, he motions with a nod that the two of you should continue your trek to the chalet. Mutely, you bob your head in agreement. Bradley steps to the side, allowing you to move ahead while he places a hand on your back. His touch is so subtle, you can hardly feel it through the wool-blend of his suit jacket.

The rest of your walk is fairly uneventful. Neither of you says much, and Bradley keeps his distance, except when he reaches over to grab your arm, preventing you from stepping on a broken plank.

When you arrive at your door and Bradley slides his key into the lock, he pauses briefly, turning his head slightly without looking at you directly. “I shouldn’t have left you,” he says.

You watch him hesitate with the lock for a moment and you finally shrug in response. “I may have overreacted.”

He raises his eyebrows and glances at you with a smirk. “No,” he says.

You roll your eyes at his sarcasm, giving him a playful punch with a loosely formed fist. “I’ve had a stressful weekend, okay?”

He narrows his eyes skeptically. “Have you?”

You meet his gaze as he holds the door open for you. “It’s been dreadful,” you say with a hint of irony because Bradley will assume you’re joking but, really, pretending not to have feelings for your friend has been thoroughly dreadful indeed.

You bend down to take your shoes off as Bradley shuts the door. “Need some help with those?” he asks with a small grin as you go to remove them.

You chuckle lightly, reaching out to grasp his forearm for stability as you unclasp the straps. You step out of your heels and look up at his face. “You’re so absurdly tall,” you say.

Bradley laughs, the forearm you’re still holding flexing as his fingers graze your elbow. “Is that a deal breaker?” he asks.

Your breath nearly trips on the exhale as his eyes sweep over your face. He takes a step forward, his body now close enough that you can feel his pant leg brush against your knee. You let out a nervous laugh, unsure how else to respond to a question that sounds an awful lot like flirting. “Come to think of it, talking to you is kind of giving me a neck cramp,” you respond lightly as you shrug off his jacket.

He grins at you as you sidestep him to get to the clothes tree. “Let’s not talk, then?” he suggests.

You chuckle as you hang up his jacket, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “Let’s not,” you say.

“Good,” he says, slipping off his dress shoes after loosening the laces. “Tired of all your yammering.”

You snort trying to hold in a laugh. “Can’t stand the sound of your voice,” you add.

“Ugh,” Bradley groans. “So annoying.”

You purse your lips as your smile widens and Bradley chuckles, eyeing you mischievously.

“C’mere, you big dork,” he says, holding his arm out.

You lower your gaze, still grinning as you tuck your head into his shoulder. Bradley wraps his arm around you, giving you a couple of affectionate squeezes. “Am I actually annoying?” you ask, fully aware that Bradley was only teasing. Perhaps you’re just fishing for a compliment.

“Oh, very,” Bradley responds as the two of you make your way into the center of the room. “What is the superlative of annoying?”

“Most annoying?”

“Yep, that’s you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Bet you can’t wait to be rid of me after this weekend,” you say, half-jokingly.

“About that,” Bradley says, lifting his arm off your shoulder. You detach yourself from him and look up questioningly. “Your aunt sort of invited me to Thanksgiving.”

You stare at him in shock. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘why not?’” Bradley shrugs. You blink at him mutely, so he adds, “That’s okay, right? I mean, I figured you’ll need to keep up appearances.”

“What if I have a real boyfriend by Thanksgiving?” you blurt out without thinking.

Bradley watches you steadily. “Well, then problem solved, right?” he says.

You meet his gaze, but you can’t seem to read him. “Right,” you agree awkwardly.

He nods and, after finally looking away, he starts for the bathroom. Once he’s gone, you close your eyes and plop onto the bed with a whimper, rolling over onto your stomach to bury your face into the pillow. You want to scream because Bradley Bradshaw is so perfect, it hurts. How, how have you never noticed the sexy grit of his voice, or the seductive quirk of his mouth, or his fucking height? You imagine being cradled in his arms, soothed by the warmth of his chest, tucked away from the big, bad world.

You rest your cheek over the cotton pillowcase musingly, slipping your hand under your head. After your kiss this evening, you were hoping – like an idiot – that Bradley might want an actual relationship with you. Instead, he’s agreed to yet another family event as your pretend boyfriend, which is probably the best outcome you could hope for. Oddly enough, however, you’re not thrilled at the prospect. Perhaps you’ve had enough of faking not being attracted to Bradley Bradshaw.

“Are you going to sleep in your dress?”

You turn your head to see Bradley leaning into the frame of the bathroom door, his dress shirt undone. He’s got a comb in his hand which he runs through his hair as he watches you with a couple of raised eyebrows. “Just waiting for the bathroom,” you respond.

Bradley steps out and gestures for you to go ahead, so you lift yourself off the bed, dragging your pjs out from under your pillow. You feel his eyes follow you into the bathroom, but you refrain from turning back to look at him.

You stuff your pjs into a dry corner of the vanity, noticing Bradley’s toiletry kit sitting open by the sink. You peer inside it curiously, not sure why you find his toothbrush, razor, and aftershave particularly interesting. You turn on the tap with a sigh. Apparently, you find everything about Bradley Bradshaw interesting, right down to his favorite brand of floss.

After you’ve finished washing your face and removing about a hundred bobby pins from your hair, you change into your pajamas and glance at yourself in the mirror with a nervous expression. Interacting with Bradley is becoming more of a chore by the minute, and you are so ready for this weekend to be over. You run your hand through the soft waves in your hair that are the result of a daylong updo and then reach for the doorknob.

You walk out to find that Bradley is already in bed, or rather, lying on top of the quilt. You hang up your dress and turn toward him. Bradley lifts his head off the pillow, watching you walk over.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Bradley smiles at you. “Your hair looks awesome.”

You chuckle. “It’s such a mess.”

“It looks good, Y/N,” he says, propping himself up onto his elbow. You try to avoid fixating on the width of his bare shoulders, not to mention the rise and fall of his slightly sunburnt chest. You look at his face instead because, for some reason, you think this might be a safer alternative. You’re wrong.

Bradley’s mouth is curled up in a small smile as he watches you pat at the curls in your hair and this subtle manifestation of his affection for you sends your heart racing more than the sight of his shirtless body ever could. “I’ll get the light,” you say, changing the subject.

On your way to the light switch, you flip your hair a couple of times, wondering if Bradley is watching your back as you walk away. Naturally, you don’t dare check. You flick the switch near the door, taking advantage of the darkness to lean your head into the wall and gather the strength to spend another night sharing a bed with Bradley Bradshaw, who is so sexy you could die. Who kisses like a fucking dream. Who –

“Y/N?”

You open your eyes, turning around to face the inky darkness of the pitch-black room. “Uh,” you respond hesitantly, wavering on the spot. “How the fuck did you do this?”

You hear some movement at the far end of the room.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” you say as the bed creaks.

Bradley chuckles in response and you hear his footsteps as he walks around the bed and across the room. “Here,” he says, sounding much closer than you’d have expected him to be in such short a time. “Take my hand.”

You reach out tentatively, waving your arm around until his fingers close around your wrist.

“Can you not see anything?” he asks with amusement, pulling you closer so that he can guide you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you say as his palm lands casually on your hip, steering you toward the bed. You lift your hand to feel around in front of you, but, of fucking course, your hand finds Bradley’s bare abdomen instead of the dresser you’re trying to locate. His muscles contract under your touch and you withdraw your hand immediately in a wild panic.

“This way,” Bradley mutters, taking a small step toward you as he directs you away from whatever obstacle you’ve nearly walked into.

“Okay,” you respond breathlessly as his body presses into yours, his glorious abs once again finding the tips of your fingers. You give yourself an extra second to lightly trace the ripples of his impressive six-pack before letting your hand fall.

But Bradley catches it just as your fingers slip away, his breathing quickening as his face hovers over yours in the darkness. Slowly and ever so lightly, his hand glides up your arm. Meanwhile, you feel the eruption of every nerve ending along its route as though his touch is setting off a series of fireworks. “You okay?” he asks so quietly that his voice is more rasp than tone.

“Mm-hm,” you affirm, your mind whirring as you attempt to rationalize Bradley’s hand that’s now caressing your shoulder. Your fingers are still lingering on his stomach when he takes another step forward.

“Cold?” he asks, his breath on your cheek.

“Mm-hm,” you repeat, completely lost for words as his pelvis brushes against you. The way Bradley is handling your body is excessive if his only intention is to help you fumble your way to the bed in the darkness. The way he’s stepping closer and closer despite clearly being more than close enough to guide you is indicative of an ulterior motive.

“Tired of talking yet?” he mutters, the tip of his nose sweeping across your cheek.

You let out a weak chuckle, your body on fire from the way he’s holding you. From the way he’s speaking. From the way his thumb coasts over your collarbone as his hand drifts up the back of your neck. His body sinks slightly as he ducks his head to catch your lips in a kiss.

You feel the collapse of tension between the two of you like it was a physical wall, replaced all at once by an acute, chaotic desire. Bradley moves further into your space as you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck. His body crashes into yours with enough force to drive you backward.

You stumble haphazardly over the scattered shoes that you don’t remember leaving all over the floor. Bradley is kicking bags and purses out of the way, his grip tightening around your waist as the two of you accelerate toward the bed.

Everything about Bradley’s demeanor feels urgent, as though, now that he’s started, he can’t stop. And, somehow, this complete disintegration of his restraint is intoxicating. His hands are all over your body; your hair, your hips, your back. His lips are smooth, but the kiss is rough in the best way possible.

You crash into the bed and Bradley’s tongue curls into your mouth as you gasp. You feel his hands close around your thighs, lifting you off the ground. When you’re in his arms, you bring your hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you kiss him. He runs his tongue along your lips, giving you several softer kisses, his thumbs stroking the tender skin under the hem of your pajama shorts as his grip on your legs tightens.

You wind your legs around his hips, subtly driving your pelvis forward. In response, Bradley releases a fevered breath, his mouth travelling down to your neck, infusing fiery kisses into your jaw along the way. When you let out a soft moan, he lowers you onto the bed, sighing heavily as he climbs over top of you. His lips skim the fraction of your exposed skin just above the band of your shorts, his mouth moving slowly over top of your shirt up your stomach and along your ribs. He kisses your neck, your chin, the tip of your nose, and finally, he gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

Then, he collapses into the bed beside you, and you’re left panting into the darkness, your brain scrambling to interpret what the fuck just happened. But neither of you seems to be able to speak. You turn your head in his direction, wondering what’s on his mind. Of course, you can’t just ask him. That would be absurd.

“Um,” you say quietly. “Thanks for your help?”

Bradley lets out a laugh. “Anytime.”

You reach up to the side of your neck where Bradley left a particularly searing kiss, your fingers grazing over the tender patch of skin as your breathing slows. So, Bradley Bradshaw liked your fake kiss. Why else would he initiate a real one?

After what seems like a solid minute of silence, you lift yourself up to move over to your pillow and you hear Bradley shuffling to do the same. You lift the blanket and slip underneath it, shivering against the cool sheet. You close your eyes, thinking of something else to say. Obviously, you can’t just go to sleep after that.

Apparently, Bradley Bradshaw is of the same opinion. You feel his hand slide over your stomach and your eyes fly open. You turn your body in his direction as he shifts closer, his fingers curling gently around the dip in your waist.

“You still okay?” he asks.

“Mm-hm,” you nod, chewing on your lip as you slide a touch closer to him.

Bradley’s hand glides along the curve from your waist to your hip and back again. “Still cold?” he says quietly, his lips moving over the tip of your nose.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your fingertips drifting over his abdomen.

“Y/N,” he whispers as his hand sinks deeper into your waist, pulling you closer.

“Bradley,” you gasp breathlessly, placing your palm over his chest.

He seems to sense your hesitation because he says, “I think we might need that pillow wall tonight, YN.” He sighs forcefully, his hold on you tightening briefly before he releases his grip and rolls onto his back with a groan. You assume that he’s running his hands over his face because of the muffled sounds he’s making.

You’re buzzing from the desperation in his tone, as if knowing that he’s frustrated and wanting you is enough to get you through the night. Surely, he didn’t think sleeping with you would be that easy. Besides, there’s no way anything is happening while the two of you continue this charade of dancing around the truth. “I could go sleep on the couch,” you offer lightheartedly.

In response to this jest, Bradley wraps his arm around you, his enormous bicep completely enclosing your face as he pulls you into his chest. You place your arm over his side, your fingers drawing swirls into his back as you lean into his neck. You feel his hand on the back of your head, playing gently with your hair as he presses a kiss to the top of it.

…

You wake to the sound of knocking on your door. You turn to find that Bradley isn’t in bed, so you assume he’s gone out to get breakfast and is now trying to get back inside with his hands full. You slip out of the bed and head for the door, noting the path of destruction last night’s make out session has left in its wake. There are shoes everywhere.

You chuckle lightly and pull open the door. When you see Steven on the other side, you blink at him in confusion, your mouth slightly agape.

“Y/N,” he says, putting his hand over the door before you can close it in his face. He steps inside.

“N-no,” you manage to say. “You need to leave.”

Steven glances at the mess in your room with furrowed eyebrows just as you realize that the shower is on in the bathroom. You groan at your oversight. “I just want to talk,” Steven says, watching you desperately. “Please.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” You gulp when you hear the shower turn off.

Steven steps closer. “Baby, we’ve been through so much, can’t you at least give me five minutes?”

You shake your head. “We’ve already said everything we needed to say.”

“No,” he whispers, taking your hand in his. “Trust me,” he says. “You’re going to want to hear this.”

You stare at him mutely as the bathroom door opens and Bradley walks out shirtless, a towel hanging off his hips. His body is still glistening with moisture. “What’s going on here?” he asks, tossing aside his hairbrush as he makes his way toward you and Steven.

You rip your hand out of Steven’s grasp and take a step back with a sharp intake of breath. Steven is watching you without flinching as Bradley approaches. “Five minutes,” he presses.

You marvel at his audacity as Bradley comes up behind you, winding his arm around you to place a hand over your midriff. He tugs you backward.

Steven ignores him. “Please.”

You feel Bradley’s arm tense around your body. “I think it’s time for you to go, Steven,” he says darkly.

But Steven’s doleful expression pulls at your heartstrings and you lay your hand over Bradley’s on your stomach, peeling his fingers away. Bradley takes a hold of your arm as you turn toward him, searching your face probingly. “I’ll be five minutes,” you say.

Bradley stares at you incredulously. “Are you serious?”

You sigh audibly, turning to Steven. “Can you wait for me outside?”

Steven nods and steps out, closing the door behind himself. You glance back at Bradley, who’s watching you tensely.

“We dated for years, Bradley. I owe it to him – and to myself – to hear him out.”

Bradley scoffs, shaking his head. “All I’m hearing is that he’s wasted enough of your time.”

“This is the last time I’m ever going to see him. I can’t say no.”

Bradley sighs resignedly, watching you grimly. “You’re too good,” he says.

You lift your eyebrows at him. “Hardly.”

He nods. “You are. And he’s taking advantage of it.”

You stare at him for a moment, taken aback by the earnestness of his tone. “It’ll be okay,” you say finally, walking around him to grab a change of clothes and head into the bathroom. When you come back out, he glances up at you, eyeing your sundress with a small, wistful smirk. His gaze slips down to your legs and then back up to your face.

“Man, I almost feel sorry for the guy,” he says.

“What? Why?” you ask.

“Because if this is how you look the last time he sees you, he’ll never fucking get over you.”

You glance down at yourself with a giggle. “You like my dress, then?”

Bradley chuckles, walking over to you. “Please be careful,” he says. “I don’t trust this guy.” You nod as he pulls you into an embrace. “And yes,” he adds, his hands squeezing your shoulders as he breathes out steadily into the top of your head. “I like the dress.”

You give him a tight smile before heading for the door.

“Y/N,” he calls as you’re about to open it. You turn back just as he appears behind you and dips his head down to give you a parting kiss. This one is soft, and fluid, and slow. You sink into him as his tongue slides delicately into your mouth, his touch along your back disarming. The languid pace of his lips is torturous. The gentle pull on your bottom lip with his teeth draws a moan out of you and you all but forget where you are, let alone where you were planning on going. “Just so you know,” he says, his forehead meeting yours as you crane your neck to cling to his lips for a moment longer. “If he tries anything, I’m going to murder him.”

Read Part VIII

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