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krahk · 25 days

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Blood for Ruin

Part One

Thank you all so much for the love and support for Part One, it is always so scary sharing brain children. You are all amazing.

Part Two

(Or, Alastor Proves he Makes a Shit Hotel Host by Bullying a Murder Victim)

By the time you opened your eyes, you had been moved to a bed, a comfy bed, in a warm lit room that was modestly decorated. And you were alone, thank god. Sitting up on the edge of the bed and kicking the sheets off as you straightened up. You stretched in a vain attempt to bring yourself some comfort, at least in body if not the mind. Doing this however, resulted in an immediate eye opening panic, because the sides of your arms brushing against either side of your head caught onto nothing.

Y’no, nothing. Nothing where ears should be. Looking around frantically, there was a cracked door heading into what was possibly a bathroom- please god, please be a bathroom. You body checked the frame as you ran in, muttering a whiny ‘ow’ before flicking a switch that turned on the overhead lights by the sink. Door open, lights on aaaand yep. Yep, yep yep. Ears missing. Hyperventilating now, you stumbled to the vanity and braced yourself on the ledge, staring into your own reflection as the panic began to set in.

Hell took your ears!? This was fucking ridiculous. Could one bitch to the devil? But also…how…how were you hearing? Because you definitely could hear. In fact you could hear better than before, like the wind outside rattling against something and a creak from the walls possibly 2 rooms over. Your brain might have been empty of explanation but your ears more than made up for it in what you heard. You leaned towards the mirror, turning your head back and forth trying to figure out what had happened to you. Then you felt it, a twitch, a little itch, at the very top of your head. Eyes drifted upwards to the pair of soft brown ears (?) That didn't quite point straight up, instead pointing more in a 45 degree angle. The left one was flicking of its own accord. The scream that left your mouth was instinctual, and loud.

Almost immediately you heard a knocking at the door and Charlie waltzed in, breathing hard, indicating the speed in which she came to your need. You spun around to meet her eyes, hands whipping to the very soft - so soft - ears utop your crown, breath shaking as you tried to get control over yourself.

“Ooohhh, yes, yes you’ve discovered your adorable new features! Thank goodness, I was so worried!” Charlie said, hands waving in front of her before clasping them together on her chest. “Everyone who comes to hell as a sinner takes on a delightful new appearance that reflects the way they lived and died! It’s a great way for you to meet new people and uh…learn to live a better life in spite of them! Many people take on animal appearances, my dad thinks it’s because every soul transcends the image of a human body.”

Still taking large breaths to keep yourself from screaming, your stuttering proof of your inability to form basic words, Charlie continued.

“Angel Dust is a spider, we think because he was involved in a ‘web of crime’ with his exciting mafia family - Husk…well okay Husk is interesting because I’m pretty sure cats in the overworld don’t have wings but he was a gambler before death so maybe he was just lucky to get wings too! You know, cards fell in his favour ha-haaa…” She trailed off awkwardly, face scrunching in a manner that you understood as her realising maybe she wasn’t explaining any part of this new discovery very well. She rubbed the back of her head with one hand, the other one placing itself on her hip. “Alastor is a deer demon, and it looks like you could be one too! I mean, you’ve got similar ears, although yours are much cuter because they are kind of floppy. And your nose is so cute! Like a baby doe! You’re pretty adorable honestly.”

You glanced at the mirror again, hands finally falling to your face to rest on your chin with your fingers covering your mouth lightly, spaced apart to allow your haggard breathing to come in and out. She was right, you did have a cute nose, it was similar to Charlie’s in appearance, and your ears did closely resemble the ears of a hooved forest animal. They reminded you of a mule deer's ears, the only deers you ever saw in Oregon (where your home was). Looking closer at yourself without the same level of panic your eyes moved back and forth rapidly taking in the new details of your person. Your skin all around was a sort of fawn colour, if fawn the colour could look dead. It was as if Bambi had died and his fur turned an ashier colour devoid of the warmth of active blood. That was you! Your ears were a dark blonde peppered with black, complimenting the soft blondish brown of your hair. Fingertips and nails were black, the black creeping up your arms before ending below the sleeve of your short sleeved pyjama top. You looked down and poked your foot out a bit to see if your lower limbs matched and hooray…they did.

In another world, maybe one where this was a costume, you would admit that you were cute out loud. However denial was still the leading emotion so you just slightly nodded at yourself before slowly turning around to face your gracious host once more.

“So. I’m a deer, so that’s a fun new fact…will I stay this way while I’m…here?” You winced at your admission of hell being your new place of residency.

“Yup!” Charlie replied in a chipper voice.

”And if I manage to get to heaven…will I change into something new?”

Charlie paused, the hand that was on her head had shifted to her chin, finger now tapping in pensive thought. “Hmm, I’m not sure? But from what my dad has said, humans who go up to heaven also take on forms that reflect their earthly life. Soooo you would probably stay a deer.”

”How would your dad know? Can we talk to the people in heaven?” This casual conversation was helping hasten the subsiding panic.

“Uh no. Heaven and Hell are pretty much separated all the time, except for the extermination BUT we’re working on that…My dad is Lucifer. Like the archangel!”

Your face was in obvious shock. Jaw dropped lightly and your hands came to your sternum, and you gaped at Charlie with wide eyes. “Lucifer? Like…the Devil? Satan himself?” What the actual fuck, why was your luck so cursed?

Charlie rocked back and forth on her heels, slightly grimacing from your comments before answering. “Yes, my dad is the Devil - but Satan is his own person, lots of people get them confused, much to dad’s chagrin. Lucifer Morningstar is my dad, the Devil, the King of Hell, fallen angel, and Satan is just the Lord of Wrath. It’s all very simple once you’ve been here a while.” Charlie had come to your side and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to walk you out of the bathroom. ”You should really join us downstairs for a proper tour, breakfast was over a while ago but we might be able to find some lunch in case you’re hungry.”

Your stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Was Hell just like Earth, but scarier? And redder? Would you need to get a job? Pay taxes? Oh good god, was Hell was just the worst part of living on monotonous repeat? Brutal. And certainly great punishment.

“We can work on getting you some more personal clothing later, but you are Vaggie look to be around the same size so she’s dropped off a few pieces just to get you in gear for redemption! I should probably go tell the others that you’re fine. I can’t wait for you to join us!” Charlie was so sickly sweet it was crazy to think she was the daughter of the Devil. She was too cheerful for a normal person, never mind a demon. She waved to you and said bye before closing the door as she exited.

Picking up the first couple of pieces in the donated pile, you dressed yourself in a shorter dress with a billowing skirt oh my god you have a tail ignore it ignore it ignore it and thicker grey socks that went all the way up to the middle of your thighs, covering up your black skin meeting up with the length of the dress. The dress was a softer white colour, not as bright as a crisp, new piece, this was a well loved item. No complaints, it was broken in and you were grateful for the gift. The only questionable features were the X’s that were placed directly over the nipples of the top. That was…quite the fashion statement. No time to be picky, something would be better than the pyjamas you died in. No shoes were provided so you simply walked out of the room into the hallway without.

The hallway appeared neverending from both sides, the detailed wallpaper and carpet going for visual miles. Which way was the right way? Good thing you were unconscious when you were brought up here, makes it much easier to retrace your steps. You were grateful for your giant new ears because it seemed like you could follow the sound of chatter down a hall.

Frowning, you let instinct take over and you went to the right. You were passing a door on your left and you felt the hair on your body begin to rise, a staticky sensation passing over your skin. It was a similar feeling to when you would take a giant fleece blanket out of the dryer when it was still warm. You shuddered and made an audible noise of discomfort. Thankfully it appeared that you chose the right path however, since you found yourself at a set of stairs that appeared to curve to the lower floor. You could hear the chatter clearer- “She screamed at the mirror? She’s adorable! She coulda been a worm or a giant slug or-” You shook your head, attempting to ignore the conversation you were accidentally eavesdropping on. A click was heard behind you and you whipped around to face the creature that resulted in your uncomfortable welcome to the hotel in the first place.

Alastor.

Now that he wasn’t talking and simply staring at you, analysing your being, you could really take in his face. Large, red eyes with a frightening depth to them were framed by darker red skin on his lids, his nose somehow sharp but similar to your own, his was more nose-like however. His smile was the worst part though. You were unsure of what could possibly make him smile so wide. His teeth were very large, and clean despite their colour. Strange for a person framed after a prey animal to have such sharp teeth, and you instinctively ran your tongue over your own behind your lips to discover sharper canines only, nothing comparable to the man in front of you.

In the silence his eyes narrowed and focused on you, making his face far more intimidating. Again, an unintentional shiver ran down your back and you shuddered under his gaze. You were a startled deer, caught in his frightening gaze. You were so unsure and uncomfortable with the situation that you had completely missed that he said something to you. You closed your eyes and shook your head to get out of your thoughts.

”Pardon? I’m sorry, I missed what you said there.” You admitted with crossed fingers that he would accept the apology.

”Yes, clearly. I merely asked you if you slept well! You took quite a nasty fall to the floor! Generally people know my history before I can make them faint from fear so I will accept the compliment. It appears as if my sabbatical has had very little effect on my presence.” He bowed slightly in a polite manner, arm crossing over his stomach as he did so, the other arm holding a microphone that was promptly used as a cane once he came up from his polite gesture. You had done a small curtsy in return, awkwardly grabbing the side of the small skirt to fulfil the action. He appeared to nod in acknowledgment, hopefully appreciating the polite return.

Your arms dropped back to your side as you processed what the man had said. Things were only going to continue to confuse you. This was all a nightmare, honestly.

“Now, on to a more serious matter,” He snapped his fingers, and the both of you were in a different room. Two chairs to your left were angled around a small table, the little radio featured on top of it. God damn it that fucking thing again. Farther behind one of the chairs however, the room opened into a bayou swamp environment - dark, marshy and foggy, the eerie sounds coming from it promised danger of an unknown kind. What kind of place was this? You could feel your ears flick from the ambient sounds coming from the strange forest as Alastor continued his interrogation. Walking to the antique, he asked “What were you doing with my radio, my dear?” Gesturing with his free hand to the little machine.

You essentially vomited out the story behind it, where you found it, why you were there, the reason you took it home with you. He listened intently, glancing at it once you finished your very brief history with the item. It truly wasn't a scandalous thing that you pilfered from some ritzy location, you salvaged it from a hoarder's house after it was put there by a woman with an obsession with Antiques Roadshow.

“If it is yours, why did it come here with me? Charlie said that possessions don’t follow souls into hell, but this did?” You inquired, hoping perhaps he held the answer.

Alastor became pensive “Hmmm. It is quite peculiar that it came with you. What were you doing with it? Please do not miss a single detail my dear, I am curious about our situation.

You frowned. What else other than grabbing the cord as you fell back? You listed out your actions on your fingers, reciting out loud the steps you took before your death. When you landed on the finger you paired with ‘took the back panel off-‘ he shouted a sharp ha-Hah! Confused and with a frown you continued, ending with cutting your hand on it before putting everything back together and heading to bed. Well, then dying. The actual ending.

“Are you sure that was all you did? Do not leave a single detail out, or you might regret it.” A sound attune with a record scratch sound from nowhere as you stared at the demon. Took radio home, took radio apart, bled on the radio, cleaned blood off the radio - your eyes went wide. And you silently checked off a step you missed in your story. You had cleaned blood off the symbols in the radio, the ones that looked like they themselves had been written in blood. Alastors gaze sharpened at your realisation.

“On the panel, inside the radio…” You started, “There were these symbols inside of it, I didn’t really get a good look at them before cutting my hand open,” You absentmindedly looked at your palm only to see a bright white scar where the long cut once was. Already? A Scar in hell? Alastor had stalked towards you and grabbed your hand to look at it. The air around the two of you was suffocating. It was difficult to think straight with him in front of you. And you were suddenly hyper aware of yourself, and him. Holding your hand was almost too much to handle and you tried to pull it back only for him to grip harder, nails pressing into your hand painfully. He raised his other hand palm up and held it beside yours. A matching scar was present. He frowned, though his smile was still prominent.

Dropping your hand he returned to the radio and black shadow tendrils rose from the floor and grabbed it, taking pieces off and placing the back panel of it in his hands. In silence he looked at the mess before entering into a low laugh, one that increased with each breath before he was near hysteria. His figure increased in size, antlers growing in size from his head, limbs lengthening - he swung his head to face yours as his figure started to loom over yours.

“Well my dear, we seem to have a problem” he said in a strange, distorted voice, his figure still looming. “You have compromised some old runes within my radio…it could possibly explain how you ended up here, with us, looking as you do.” Halfway through his terrifying statement he had returned to his ‘normal’ form and fluffed out the lapel of his coat as he did so. Eyes returning to yours the room became darker, and green symbols similar to the ones in the radio appeared on the floor, some appearing to raise up and float around the two of you.

“You will not mention any part of this radio or what you know of it, including where it was found or how you came into possession with it. You will not let others know of how your scar came on your person, and you certainly will not mention any of the runes you saw.” He wasn’t making a request, he was clearly demanding it. It felt as if wind was billowing his hair and coat as his eyes took on a much brighter look. ”If you do, I promise you will regret having ever come here and I will devour your soul only after a long and painful torture, am I clear?” You nodded in acknowledgement, knowing that the only reason you had not thrown up yet was the complete lack of food in your system, though the bile was resting at the back of your throat from fear.

He raised his hand to yours in a handshake motion, beckoning you with the outreached hand to join yours with his. You grabbed his hand with your own, both scars meeting in the middle, and they began to glow before he said only one word - “Deal?”

Well really, was there any other option? You nodded before he tsk-tsked your action, “I need vocal consent my dear, it is required.” The last word turning dark with static.

“Deal.” You barked out, and as soon as you responded, the room reverted back to its original state immediately. Alastor took his hand back and wiped it on the opposite sleeve. ”Excellent. You may leave now, the stairs will direct you right into the lobby. Please tell Ms. Morningstar that my afternoon has changed and I am unable to join her.” The door swung open on its own accord and black tangible tendrils of shadow had all but shoved you across the room and out the door before slamming the door shut so hard you swore the wood splintered slightly.

You paused to catch your breath, staring at the door, which you now knew led to Alastors Room. On the other side you could tell he must have been pacing back and forth, his heels clacking on the hard floors as he did so. Soon after however, it sounded as if a wild animal was throwing furniture and ripping fabric, loud screaming as it did so. Not about to stick around, you sprinted to the stairs and nearly slipped from the lack of shoes trying to place distance between you and the Demon upstairs. You kept up the pace on the main floor until you ran past an open door and caught sight of Charlie sitting on a sofa. You entered the room, out of breath and slightly sweaty from the encounter upstairs. She waved excitedly before patting the open seat beside her for you to sit as she held up an apple in her other hand. You sat, accepted the apple and took a bite before looking at the Television and promptly choking as you watched a news anchor discuss something called an ‘Extermination’, didn’t Charlie mention that upstairs?

Thankfully, once things had settled down in your head, you found yourself swept up in trust exercises, oh goody. Thankfully this spiralled into chaos and you were glad everyone had simply accepted your presence without hesitation, there were far more exciting things happening. It was especially comforting that Alastor would be keeping his promise and leaving on an outing for the day.

****

I will add here, this will be a semi-slow burn. Alastor is aroace pre-reader, but with time things change. Time, magic, and forced proximity.

#alastor smut #Alastor Hazbin #Alastor x reader #Alastor slow burn #Alastor Hazbin Hotel #Alastor x OFC #Hazbin Hotel #alastorxreader #alastor x you

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starbabyg · 1 year

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Ok this is just an idea but I love love love ‘Picture Perfect’ and I was thinking part 2 where one of the boys accidentally like finds one of the pictures… like Trevor and him ordered pizza or something and Jack tells him to grab his card out of his wallet and a Polaroid just tumbles out… and all the sudden Trevor can’t stop imagining you and jack. Maybe Jack catches him with the picture and is all cocky about how much of a good girl you are, how perfect you feel and sound… and maybe just maybe Jack invites Trev to watch… no touching because he’s a protective boyfriend but he knows you’ve thought about having someone watch before and he Trusts Trevor….

Picture Perfect Part 2 | Jack Hughes x Reader x Trevor Zegras smut

Ugh nony I loveee this concept!! You’re mind is just ugh! Chef’s kiss!!!

The OG Picture perfect smut is right hereee to refresh ya memory <3.

Warnings; smut obviously, the c word lmfao, the word ‘daddy’ in a sexual context

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It was guy’s night at lake cabin, which meant Jack and Trevor, the only two to ever pull through for guy’s night, would be playing video games, watching a game, and attempting to go fishing until they finally give up and order some food cause neither of them know how to cook.

“Aaaand another one bites the dust. 5-0. It’s settled my characters better than yours,” Jack taunted, putting the game controller down and picking up his drink.

“Okay, I’m still on the cover though sooo,” Trevor quipped back with sass.

“Yeah cause I was too busy for a shoot, now go get the pizza loser I gotta go piss.” Jack heard the door bell ring, the only person it could be being the pizza guy.

“In your dreams Hughes, I don’t got cash for the tip lend me a five.”

“Get it out of my wallet I’m about to burst,” Jack shouted as he walked down the hall to the bathroom.

Trevor chuckled shaking his head, picking up Jack’s wallet from the coffee table and opening it up. Trevor rifled through Jack’s wallet, seeing twenties and hundreds, but no small bills.

“Jesus does this guy have any change?” Trevor flipped Jack’s wallet upside down, dumping it out to find at least some coins. Thwip. Along with a bunch of dollar bills something heavier fell out. Jack’s special Polaroids fell out, all faced backside up. Trevor being the nosy person he is flipped them over and picked them up.

Trevor’s eyes widened as he saw the contents of said Polaroids. You spread out on the bed, lewd shots of you in the matching set, bent over and your tits hanging out. “No fucking way,” Trev whispered to himself still perusing through the countless pictures. He was brought out of his thoughts by the door bell ringing once more, this time sounding more impatient by the abruptness. Too enthralled with his new discovery Trevor just grabbed a fifty and handed it to the guy. I’ll just venmo Jack later. He grabbed the pizza and tossed it on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch and looking at the pictures once more.

How the fuck did Hughes bag her? Trevor was acquainted with you, knew for sure you were pretty as hell but didn’t know that underneath that seemingly quiet and meek exterior was a girl who would pose for something like this. With your makeup done and your body out of your normal casual clothes, he finally got to see the more private side of you that was reserved for Jack only.

“She’s fucking perfect huh,” Jack smirked from behind the couch. He walked over and plopped himself next to Trevor, who just sat there with shock on his face. His best friend had just caught him looking at his private pictures of his girlfriend. Fuck. “Such a good girl for me. Posed exactly how I told her to. Straight out of a magazine, a masterpiece.” Jack could just go on and on about you.

“Wait— you’re not tripping over me looking at these?” Trevor was surprised at Jack’s nonchalant attitude over the situation. He thought Jack would be more of the possessive type.

“Not really. I mean look at her, why would I want to keep that just to myself. I already have the exclusive rights to fucking her. Now that I’ll forever keep to myself,” Jack smiled, he knew that many men fawned after you. Imagined what your naked body looked like. How you felt.

Trevor now was dragged into the thought of fucking you. How good you would be in bed. How submissive. How you sounded. How it would feel to have his dick wrapped inside you. If you turned him on just from pictures imagine the real thing.

“You wanna know how it is huh,” Jack could see that look on Trev’s face, that look of longing. It’s like Pandora’s box was open, and that box, was well, your box. LMFAOOO I HAD TO.

Now Trevor didn’t want to cross any lines. After all Jack was like his best friend. He wouldn’t risk his friendship over anything in the world. Jack saw Trevor’s facial expression change, now looking more panicked.

“Come to my house next weekend. Now I’m not gonna let you fuck her. But you can at least watch her get fucked. The closest thing you’ll ever get to that perfection of a pussy. When I say she’s a goddess I mean it in every aspect.”

No way was Jack just offering to let me watch him fuck his girlfriend. No way in hell. “A-are you sure man? I just got caught up in the pictures I don’t need to do all that–”

“Zegras, it’s not that big of a deal it’s not like you’re fucking her behind my back– unless you are then I’m gonna beat your ass. Besides y/n has a lil voyeurism kink, she likes being watched sometimes. I’ll be fucking her against our apartment window or on the balcony. At least I actually know you.”

“Jesus y/n’s more of a freak than I pegged her for.”

“No, she really is. The things this girl introduced me to. The things she does to me. Literally has me wrapped around her finger.” Just from this conversation both the boys were getting turned on, Jack reminiscing in past moments and Trevor just imagining how good it could be having sex with you.

“Shit I need to get me one of those,” Trev laughed.

“Yeah, no one will ever compare to y/n, like ever,” Jack cut that quick, knowing that you’re literally the most perfect girl in the whole wide world. No one could ever come close to you in Jack’s eyes. “Just come by my place, you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Just as Jack had told him, Trevor went to his house that next weekend. To say Trev was nervous was an understatement. In all honesty he felt like it was all a set up, that in the end Jack would be mad that his best friend would actually want to see his girlfriend getting fucked. But there he stood at Jack’s front door, contemplating on whether or not to ring the doorbell or just altogether leave and forget that any of this ever happened. Before he could even decide between the two, Jack’s door opened.

“What’s good Zegras,” Jack held open the door nonchalantly.

“How’d you know I was here–”

“Saw you on the ring camera duh. Come in though before my neighbors think I’m having a party and try to pull through. They’re just a little too comfortable.”

Trevor just laughed in agreement, still anxious about the whole situation. He sat himself on the couch, watching Jack as he pulled two drinks out of the fridge.

“Y/n’s on her way back from getting her nails done. We can just chill and play some chel til she gets back.”

“You told her that I’m coming over?” Trevor wanted to make sure that you were okay with the whole situation, after all you were the one getting fucked in front of the one man audience.

“Nah, I just told her to wear one of her prettiest sets cause I have a surprise for her.” Jack shrugged as he threw a piece of popcorn in his mouth.

“So you didn’t even tell her! You’re a dick Hughes. What if she gets weirded out and tells someone in the league,” Trevor was thinking about every possible way this could go wrong.

“God Trev, what did I tell you. Y/n isn’t gonna care she likes the taboo shit.”

“If you’re wrong I’m never talking to your ass again. Like ever,” He pointed seriously.

“Whatever, set the game up I’mma make us some mozzarella sticks,” Jack threw a piece of popcorn at Trevor, who was watching Jack’s every move.

The two boys were deep into a third round of chel when they heard the front door unlocking. Trevor quickly looked at Jack, an apprehensive look on his face.

“Hi lovey, I’m back,” you sweetly spoke out, not knowing where Jack could be. You locked the door, taking off your shoes and setting your purse down carefully.

“Hey my princess, I’m in the living room. How was your nail appointment,” Jack had his eyes glued to the tv, taking these moments where Trevor was distracted to get in some goals.

“It was good, I got them the color you chose for me. It’s prettier than I thought it’d be. With the red toes just how you like.”

“Ouuu you gotta let me see. I bet they look amazing on you.” Jack smiled, just imagining how it looked. Trevor looked to Jack and into the void where he heard your voice coming from. It was a bit awkward to hear such a casual yet intimate one on one conversation between the two of you. It seemed to him like eavesdropping.

“Mkay love, be right there. I’m just putting my stuff away. But what was that surprise you were talking about? It was so hot in the salon and I couldn’t even take off my jacket cause of what I got on underneath.”

“Come over here and you’ll see it, I got it right here for you,” Jack smirked as he patted Trev on the back, who looked like he was about to pass out.

You entered the kitchen area, back turned towards the boys as you perused through the fridge for a drink. Trevor blinked as he saw you, even more nervous than he thought he would be.

You opened a soda, throwing away the cap before going into the living room section to fully see Jack on the couch, with Trevor in tow. “Oh hey Trevor, what’s up?”

“Hey,” he mustered out, looking at you in your little yoga outfit. With one of those tight fitting cropped lululemon define jackets with the matching form fitting yoga pants. Your hair slicked back in a high ponytail.

“You know how I had that guys night with Trev?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded as you sipped your soda.

“Well he had to get money to tip the pizza guy out of my wallet and he came across your polaroids,” Jack casually explained. Trevor took a hard gulp as he gauged your reaction.

“The ones of me in the pink agent provacateur set?” You now knew what was going on, and surely this was quite the surprise on Jack’s part.

“Mhmm.”

You turned towards Trevor, “Did you like how I looked in it?” You thought it was cute that someone who is always so confident was now a muttering mess right in front of you.

“Y-yeah of course. You looked stunning.”

“Good thing I wore the matching one then huh,” slowly you started to unzip your jacket, revealing a look alike set in a light blue hue. You shimmied out of your yoga pants, dropping them to the floor and giving the two boys a full 360°. Swaying your hips, doing cute little poses.

“Fuck,” Trevor said under his breath. The pictures only did so much justice. Now he could see every curve in person. The jiggle of your ass as you turned in a circle, your boobs bouncing in that tight bra you wore.

You got on your knees and crawled over to them on the couch. You made your way to Trevor, leaning up and spreading his legs apart. You started to unbuckle his pants before Jack laid his hand atop yours.

“Woah sweetheart, too eager now. You know I’m too selfish to let anyone else get a piece of you. Trev’s just here to watch and see just how perfect you are.”

Your mouth went into an ‘o’, now knowing the extent of the ‘surprise’ Jack had for you. “Okay daddy, I understand now.” You moved on to Jack, actually getting to pull down his sweats and boxers. His dick sprung out, already hard from the little show you had just put on.

You took Jack’s dick into your hands, licking up and down the base of it before going to the tip. You started off slow, giving his tip kitten licks before fully taking it into your mouth. Trevor just watched, mouth agape as he could only imagine the sensations Jack was feeling. And by the reactions Jack was giving the head must’ve been damn good.

“Fuck princess, show Trev how good you can take my cock in your mouth,” Jack groaned as he threw his head back.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, the vibrations causing Jack’s dick to prematurely twitch. You took his member out of your mouth, letting some drool dribble from your plump lips to trail down his tip. With enough drool as lubricant, you took him back into your mouth and started blowing him at a steady pace. Your cheeks as hollowed as they could, your tongue swirling around as much as it could.

“Fuck, I love when you do that shit with your tongue,” Jack put his hand behind your head and pushed you down even further, causing you to gag. Trevor just got harder and harder, his dick print now showing through his jeans. He gave it a few rubs, the strain being almost too painful. He just had to get off to you. You saw him writhing in his seat.

“Take it out and stroke it. It must be awfully painful to be that horny and not do anything about it,” you smiled, out of breath. With that you went back to sucking off Jack, looking Trevor in his eyes. The eye contact did something to him, his dick starting to throb and his tip turning a shade of pink. Trevor quickly unbuckled his pants and pulled it out, his hand gripping his dick in an effort to release all the pent up pressure he was feeling.

Jack lifted you up, softly tossing you face first into the couch and taking a position behind up. He cupped your pussy and gave your clit a few rubs before spreading you out on his dick.

“Ohhhh my god,” you drawled out with the prettiest moan. Trevor could’ve busted just from that sound alone it was so angelic. Your hands gripped the head rest of the couch, Jack hitting it from behind intensely. All while Trev’s face was just mere inches away.

“Yeah, take it like the good girl you are,” Jack slapped your ass, with it reverberating as a red mark replaced where his hand once was. You let out a squeal, rubbing it a bit to sooth the sting.

Trevor fucked his hand vicariously, imagining it was you in its place instead. It might’ve sounded sick but he had now developed a deep lust crush on you. How could he not seeing how much of a good girl you were?

Jack flipped you over, putting you on your back and drilling into you. Your knees touching your chest and your legs slung over his shoulders. With this position Trevor got the perfect few of Jack going in and out of you. Your punani looked perfect, looking so tightly wrapped around Jack’s dick, your lips and folds moving along with him as he pushed himself in further and further. It took everything Trevor had inside of him to have enough discipline to not start playing with your clit right then and there. The way it just sat there glistening. But it was as if Jack could read his dirty thoughts in his dirty mind, Jack’s hand going to the base of your navel and then trailing down to toy with you clit.

“Mhmm daddy just like thatttt,” you moaned out breathlessly, all that stimulation starting to run through the rest of your body. Your legs started to twitch, you were going to cum soon at the rate Jack was fucking you.

“Get on top, show Trevor how you ride this dick,” Jack heaved, pulling you up and into a deep kiss. He dropped himself right on the couch, waiting for you to get on top.

“Of course daddy,” you giggled as you placed one knee on each side of him. For obvious reasons you knew you had to show out for Trevor and give your best performance. You touted yourself up before slowly sinking yourself into Jack’s dick, which caused him to let out a low gutteral groan. His hands made their way to your ass, gripping the supple flesh.

Gradually you picked up speed, arching your back as you lifted yourself up and grinding yourself back down to the base of his shaft. Trevor’s eyes just followed, up down up down up. You then got on the soles of your feet, giving you more spring with your bounce. Now you had more motion, moving your hips in circles and back and forth. With Jack still inside you you turned a 180°, your ass now facing him.

“Lemme see that ass clap baby,” Jack instructed with a slap of your bum. You steadied your feet on the floor, your hands on your knees as you started to lift your ass up again. You bounced yourself on Jack’s dick, his hands on your waist to help you steady your pace. In this position his dick was hitting just the right spot, bringing you closer to climax each time it would his the back of your walls.

“Fuck daddy, I’m gonna– I’m gonna cum,” you panted, turning around to look at him. It was getting difficult to keep up the pace, your stamina draining as your vision became starry.

“Uhnt uh, not until Trevor and I both finish, okay?” Jack gave your ass a squeeze. Those words turned you on, giving you an extra boost that you most definitely needed.

“Oh-okay,” you continued to ride him, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. Trevor himself was close to finishing, the real life porn in front of him pushing him to the edge.

“Fuck I’m close,” Trevor finally groaned out, bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was the one fucking you from behind. It was a sick and twisted thing for him to fantasize but what else was he supposed to do seeing you ride Jack so immaculately? He sputtered out curse words a few moments later, busting out into his hand with a few stray cum drops landing on your ass.

Jack saw this, getting just a tad bit possessive over the seemingly nothing, now bucking his hips up and fucking you as you tried to steady yourself. He glanced over at Trevor for a second, seeing the green in his eyes. Jack gave him a smirk as to say ‘yup, this is mine and mine only. You only get the privilege to watch and to never touch.’

“Oh my fuck! I’m cumming, I’m cumming,” you squealed as your legs started to go limp. Jack held you, still pumping in and out of you.

“There you go princess, ride it out for me,” he held you close to his body, his face in the crook of your neck leaving wet kisses. “Get on your knees I’m gonna finish on your face.”

You obeyed his command, hazily turning around and getting down on your knees. You looked up at him with a smile, your tongue sticking out like a puppy dog. Jack groaned, pumping his dick until he came, cum dripping out and onto your face and tongue. You giggled before licking up the drops that fell onto your lips. Jack bent down a left a kiss on your forehead.

“Did I do good daddy?” You asked, still on your knees.

“You did amazing and more my love, now go get dressed we’re gonna go out to eat,” Jack praised you. You nodded and went to your shared room, now going to change and maybe lay down for a few, so fucked out you could barely walk. Trevor just sat there, heaving and replaying this whole scenario in his head. All of this really happened, he had just watched his best friend fuck his girlfriend.

Jack turned over to Trevor, pulling up his sweats, “See, didn’t I tell you she was the perfect girl?”

627 notes · View notes

random-thot-generator · 11 months

Text

Promises, Promises

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mac Tavish x Fem Reader

Summary: Soap has been trying to move your relationship out of the friend zone for months, and finally gets his chance when an innocent game of pool and a friendly wager lead to progressively dirtier tactics to make the other lose. Let’s just say Soap is “in it to win it” and makes a bold and filthy claim that he’s more than eager to prove to you.

Aaaand... then smut happens. Yeah, I know. Big surprise, right?

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit sexual descriptions (bc that’s how I roll), thigh riding, oral- fem receiving, improper use of a pool table, Soap has a filthy mouth- for multiple reasons, no Y/N,

(N/A: This thot hit me Friday night and it’s been rotting my brain ever since, so I’m purging this smut. I was going to share it for Super Soap Sunday, but then my internet died, so you’re getting a MacTavish Monday special event. So, gather ‘round the pool table, my good hoes, and let’s get into this.)

Word Count: 4489

🎱

“Ah, c’mon, hen. Give it up. Ya know yer gaggin’ t’go out with me. Admit it. Yer mad fer me, ain’t ya?”

You rolled your eyes at the handsome sergeant sitting in front of you at the bar, a rueful little smile quirking up your lips. He didn’t even realize how right he was. You were mad for him, and that was the sad truth of it. Head over heels for him, in fact, but you would never admit it to the cocky Scottish bastard. His pretty head was big enough as it was, already.

You had decided a while ago that it was best to just stay friends with Johnny MacTavish. He liked to keep his sexual relationships casual, and you couldn’t do that with him. You already cared about him too much, and you didn’t want to go through the pain of losing him when another woman eventually caught his eye. It sucked not being able to have him the way you wanted him, but it was better than not having him at all.

“Oh, come on, Johnny. I doubt you could even find the time to take me on a date, considering how crazy your schedule is,” you pointed out, trying to deflect his advances. “Besides, weren’t you dating that redhead? What’s-her-name? You’ve not mentioned her in a while. Things not work out?”

Soap made a frustrated face, waving a dismissive hand. “Tha’ happened months ago, Ya know good an’ damn well it was jus’ a quick feck in the lavvy every once in awhile t’relieve some stress.”

You tried your best to ignore the ugly pang of jealousy that curled in your chest. “Relieve some stress, huh? And what’s got you so stressed? Your job?”

“’M stressed ‘cause ya won’t go out with me,” was his quick retort, giving you an impish grin. His blue eyes sparkled in the low light, and you felt your heart give a pitiful little flutter.

Shaking your head, you tossed your towel on the bar and huffed in exasperation. “What’s it going to take to get you off this? Besides, going on a date with you?”

His face fell into a pouting frown. “Don’t see why ya won’t do it. It’d be a proper date, none o’ that ‘Netflix an’ chill’ shite.” Then his frown morphed into a dirty little smirk. “We can do tha’ after the date,” he added, waggling his eyebrows.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Aye, but I’m yer eejit.”

You wished.

Exhaling a weary sigh of resignation, you turned to check the clock on the wall. Finally. Closing time. “Last orders!” you shouted out to the pub at large. You glanced back at Johnny and pointed at his empty pint glass. “Do you want another?”

“Naw. ’M good.” He leaned his arms on the bar and smiled at you..

After the last of the customers had shuffled out, you locked the door behind them and started sweeping. Johnny jumped off his seat and began turning up the chairs and stools for you, then went to fetch the mop bucket from the supply closet. He had gotten into the habit of hanging out with you after hours and driving you home after you locked up for the night. On nights like this, he usually ended up passed out on your couch if he didn’t have to be back at base, his snores drowning out the telly. You didn’t know whether to be glad or disappointed that he had never tried to follow you to your bedroom.

Working together, you had the pub cleaned and the bar restocked in less than an hour. Ready to call it a night and go home, you went to turn off the lights when you spied a couple of cue sticks left out on the pool table, a few pool balls scattered about its felt top. Figuring what the hell, you picked up one of the cue sticks. Johnny grinned as he watched you line up a shot, knocking the two ball into a corner pocket with a satisfying crack.

“Didn’t know you could play, hen.”

You gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged as you took aim at the seven ball next. “My uncle taught me how.” You sank the seven in a side pocket.

“If I’d known tha’, I would’ve ‘challenged ya to a game. I’m pretty good myself, ya know. I bet I could take you.”

You quirked a brow at him. “Oh, yeah? Willing to place a friendly wager on it?”

He crossed his arms across his chest and smirked. “What d’ya have in mind?”

“If I win, I get to choose where we order takeaway, and you have to pay for it. If you win. I’ll pay your tab tomorrow night.”

“Alright. I’ll rack, you break. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The match was fairly even, Johnny just barely beating you by knocking in the eight ball first. You took the loss in stride, ready to put your cue stick away, when he stopped you. “Let’s go double or nothin’.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, cue stick held aloft to be slotted back in the wall rack. “What d’you mean? I have to pay for takeaway twice if I lose again?”

“Nooo,” he drawled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m changin’ the stakes. If I win, ya have t’go on that date with me.”

“Really? And if I win?”

He grinned. “Then I’ll let you take me out on a date.”

You scoffed, snickering at him. “Unh-unh. No, if I win, you have to stop pestering me for a date.”

He sniffed, frowning. “If tha’s what ya want,” he grumbled, pouting.

You dropped your chin, shooting him a dubious look. “I thought you were sure you could take me. What have you got to worry about?”

He sneered at you, unable to ignore the challenge. “Alright, hen. Just be prepared to pay up when ya lose, again, aye?”

This time you racked, and he broke. Two solids dropped in their pockets, and his grin went wide. “Best decide now what yer goin’ t’wear for our date, hen.” He gave you a cocky wink before lining up his next shot.

Left to his own devices, you knew he would end up running the table, and you couldn’t let that happen. Sidling up next to him, face simpering, you murmured in a high, sweet voice, “Who said I was planning on wearing anything, Johnny?”

His shot went wide and glanced off the cue ball, making him swear under his breath. He turned to glare at you. “Tha’ was a dirty trick.”

You giggled at him. “Oh no! You missed your shot. That’s too bad,” you crooned in mock sympathy, poking out your bottom lip.

“So, tha’s how it’s goin’ t’be, then?” He gave you a slow nod. “Alright then, hen. We’ll do this yer way. Jus’ remember, it was you tha’ started it.”

You grunted, not in the least bit intimidated. Let him talk all he wanted. You could ignore him if you had to. You walked around the table, choosing your next shot, then bent over to line it up. Just as you went to tap the cue ball, Johnny leaned over and breathed hot on the side of your neck. “Mm. Ya look good bent over like tha’, sweetheart,” he hummed low and filthy in your ear.

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as you flinched away, your shot just barely tapping the ball you were aiming at. You gave him a baleful look. The bastard knew his voice always got to you. “That was a cheap shot.”

His grin was smarmy as hell as he patted you on the head. “No. That was a missed shot.” He bumped you out of the way. “Now, if yeh’ll excuse me, I got a game t’win.”

Ooh! That cheeky little shit. You’d be damned if you were going to let him get away with that. When he bent over to take his next shot, you ran your cue stick up between his legs and giggled when he startled, missing his shot. He spun around to pin you with a warning look as his lips pressed into a grim smile. He cupped your cheek, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip. “Keep it up, hen. See what ya get,” he told you, his voice gone sinfully low and husky.

You swallowed, feeling your belly swoop in arousal. Keeping a wary eye on him, you circled the table away from him and chose your next shot, being mindful of where he was standing. He remained on the opposite side, hands braced on the table’s edge, a salacious smile on his face. As you lined up to take your shot, he hummed, a dirty, rumbling purr that skittered up your backbone and made your lower belly grow warm. Your core pulsed in sympathy.

“Got t’say, love, ya got some gorgeous feckin’ chebs,” he commented, and you lifted your eyes to see he was peering straight down your shirt. “How ‘bout givin’ us a taste, hm?” he drawled, a wicked smirk tugging up the corners of his lips.

You shook your head, scowling. Just ignore him, you reminded yourself, but it was really hard to do that when you could feel your nipples tightening into hard little peaks. You growled under your breath and took your shot.

Johnny grimaced when you made it, scoffing, “Got lucky,” he mumbled.

Feeling like you had the upper hand, you strutted around the table until you were standing beside him again, then bumped him out the way. “Are we still talkin’ about this game or, uh... your game?” you asked, with a nasty little smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “An’ what’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?”

You took another shot, sank another ball, then straightened to give him a sly smirk. “You talk a good game, Johnny, but you’re never gone for more than five or ten minutes when you sneak off with one of your little birds. The way I see it, if they managed to get off at all, it would have to be pure luck.”

His mouth fell open in shock, and an airy little giggle bubbled up out of your throat at his expression. You turned your back on him to line up your next shot, feeling all full of yourself and confident, but then gasped when you felt his hands take hold of your hips and tug you back against him.

His mouth was right at your ear when he rasped out, “So you’re timin’ me, are ya, hen? Are ya jealous? Hmm? Don’t you worry tha’ pretty head o’ yers, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll have ya screamin’ my name in five minutes. Give me ten, an’ I’ll have ya cummin’ 'round my cock.”

You literally shuddered at his words, a trembling breath stuttering out between your parted lips as lust coursed through you, hot and heady. Holy shit, were you actually shaking right now? Get your head back in the game, you silently admonished yourself. Averting your eyes, you sniffed in derision, “Please. You think you could get me off in five minutes?” you scoffed and shook your head, but there was little force behind your words with you voice gone all quavering and breathless.

He pressed himself closer, a low, filthy chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I’d get ya off in three, hen,” he murmured, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

Heat pulsed through your core and you felt your panties grow damp. Shit! You bit your bottom lip and did your best to maintain your composure. “Hah! Th-Three minutes? I call b-bullshit,” you stammered out.

His hands gripped your hips tighter and he pulled you right up against his crotch, letting you feel just how much this little back-and-forth was affecting him. He gave a slow rut of his hips, rubbing the bulge in his jeans on the swell of your ass. “I wouldn’t even have to use this on ya,” he taunted, rutting against you again. “Jus’ me mouth.” His tongue traced the curve of your ear.

A strangled little whimper caught in the back of your throat, your knuckles going white as you gripped the edge of the pool table. “F-Fuck, Johnny...”

His lips were skimming down your neck, his breath coming out in soft, hot pants against your skin. “Let me show ya what I can do fer ya, sweetheart. Let me be good to ya, make ya feel good, aye?”

He hadn’t even really touched you yet, but you could already feel your arousal seeping out of your clenching channel to pool in your panties. “W-We shouldn’t...” you breathed out, trying to argue, but then his hands slid around your waist, one hand trailing down until he was cupping your clothed pussy in his big hand. A low, guttural moan clawed its way out of your throat. Your knees gave a little wobble.

You were in trouble.

Of its own volition, your head tilted to the side to give him better access, and he groaned into your neck before he began trailing hot, wet kisses up to your ear. He caught the lobe between his teeth before pulling it between his lips to suckle at it. The hand cupping your pussy squeezed, and another filthy moan escaped your lips.

“Y feel s’good, love. S’feckin’ hot,” he whispered, and your heart gave a hard thud in your chest. When his hand came up to clutch at your breast through your shirt, you whimpered. He gave a frustrated growl and turned you in his arms, crowding you back against the pool table as his arms wrapped around your back, hands gripping and pulling at you. “Feck, let me kiss ya, hen. Please?” he asked, voice desperate and plaintive.

You peered up at him, enthralled by the darkened blue of his eyes, the expanded void of his pupils. The way he looked at you had your hands shooting up to grasp the sides of his head, pulling him down to crash his lips to yours. This time, he whimpered, melting into you for a brief moment, but he soon recovered and took charge of the kiss.

No one had ever kissed you like that before. There was hunger in his kiss, an aggression that spoke of pent-up lust and insatiable need. The fierceness of it had you gasping against his mouth, and Johhny, never one to miss an opportunity, delved between your parted lips, tangling his tongue with yours as he groaned into your mouth.

He had slotted his knee between your thighs while he kissed you, and he lifted it, now, notching it firmly against your aching sex. You whined at the contact, hips bucking on instinct to gain more friction for your swollen clit.

“Feck, tha’s it, love. Ride it,” he encouraged you. One hand supporting your back, he used the other to help guide your hips, hissing out curses as he dragged your aching pussy back and forth along his flexed thigh. “God, I bet yer feckin’ soaked, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

You could only whine and drop your head to his shoulder as he slowly pushed and pulled you to the very edge of orgasm. “J-Johnny... I―”

“Jus’ let go fer me, love. Let it happen,” he crooned at your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Jus’ like that. Tha’s it. Feckin’ hell, yer so beautiful like this. Cum fer me, sweetheart. C’mon. Let me have it.”

A wavering cry fell from your lips as your orgasm swept over you like tidal wave. Sparks danced behind your eyelids, and your body went slack in his arms as your knees clamped around his thigh.

“Tha’s good, sweetheart. Ride it out. Did so good fer me,” he murmured, grasping the nape of your neck as he helped grind you against him, not stopping until your legs gave out and released the vice grip on his thigh.

His voice and hands were both trembling as he caught you by the thighs and lifted you up to set you on the pool table, whispering praises in your ear. You could do little more than lean into him, pressing sloppy kisses at his throat as you pawed at his chest. “Oh, my god...” you breathed into his skin, panting.

His hands were rubbing circles over your back, giving you time to come down from your high. “I want ta make ya feel good, sweetheart, show ya what I can do fer ya. Will ya let me, love?”

You nodded like a dashboard bobble head, as you gasped out, “Yes! Please, Johnny.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Leaning past you, he swept his arm across the pool table, scattering the remaining pool balls in all different directions, before laying you back on the crimson felt. His hands went to the waist of your leggings, fingers curling into the material, giving them a quick tug. A sexy little smile appeared on his face when you eagerly lifted your hips to accommodate him. He pulled them down your legs, taking your underwear with them, giving a sharp inhale when his eyes finally landed on your slick lower lips.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathed, rushing to yank the shoes from your feet before stripping off your leggings and panties, and then tossed them aside. “Would ya look at tha’,” he whispered, brushing his thick knuckles down your wet slit. “Yer s’soft, love,” he murmured, bringing his hand up to his mouth to drag his tongue over the bony ridge. A grating moan was exhaled. “Mmm, ya taste so good, too.”

Your whimper came on the heels of the slick you could feel seeping out of your quivering folds, running along the seam of your pussy to drip onto the edge of the table. You were staring up at the ceiling in a daze, not caring what he did, so long as he touched you down there. “Johnny, wh-what are you―”

“Shh, love. Jus’ lay back an’ let me take care of ya. Tha’s a good girl.”

His hands were gliding up and down your sides, pausing briefly to massage your breasts. “Sweet Jaysus, cannae wait to see these,” he mumbled, brushing his thumbs over the nipples. He gave them a teasing little pinch, huffing out a breathy laugh when you whimpered and squirmed. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

You threw an arm over your eyes, embarrassed. “C-Can’t help it. Don’t laugh.”

“No no, love,” he cooed, pulling your arm away. He leaned over you to stare into your eyes. “Not laughin’ at ya, love. I jus’ can’t believe I finally have ya like this.”

He pressed his lips to yours, sighing into the kiss. You could feel his cock flexing inside his jeans, straining to get out. He pressed himself against your weeping core, slowly grinding against you until you were whimpering again. “Can’t wait t’be inside ya, love, but there’s somethin’ I got t’do first.”

His body slid down yours, lips grazing over your sternum, kissing each breast, pushing your shirt further up to plant soft kisses over your belly and hips. He licked a wet stripe above your mound, catching your hips in his hands when you rolled them up into his face. “Bless me, the way ya move, hen. Drives me feckin’ mad.”

His pressed his nose into your sex and inhaled, moaning into it before you felt the first touch of his tongue. He had dipped the tip of it into your wet folds, flicking it over your clit, before drawing back as you jolted in his grip. You looked down your body, worried that you had done something wrong or did something he didn’t like, but when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, all you saw was the wolfish grin on his face and the devilish gleam in his eye. He fiddled with the watch on his wrist, removing it and noting the time, before pressing it into your hand.

“Keep an eye on it, hen,” he husked above your folds. “Remember. Three minutes.”

Your brows shot up, mouth gaping open. “Wha― Haaah! Fu-Fuck!”

Johnny didn’t waste any time, plunging his tongue into your wet heat. His hands were like vice grips on your bucking, squirming hips as he devoured you, making the most lewd, wet, sloppy sounds as he devoured you. He slurped at your juices, sucked at your clit, slithered his tongue up into your clenching channel, all while you mewled and cried and flailed, helpless against the onslaught. You could feel the orgasm building, rocketing towards that blissful peak, and you panted out his name again and again, your hands clutching at his head, not sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him in closer, it was so overwhelming.

He was lapping at you, snaking his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, swirling it around the taut little nub. When he sealed his lips around it and began flickering his tongue over it, you gasped, then a warbling cry flew past your lips when he drew it between his teeth and sucked, so hard. The cry turned to an escalating wail as your back came off the table, but his hands held you down, and he moaned into your pussy, the vibration sending you right over the edge.

Your climax hit you like a Mac truck, barreling out of your core in a rush of hot slick. You could hear Johnny, still buried between your legs, moaning and growling as he gorged himself, refusing to let a single drop escape his greedy mouth. Tremors shook through your frame, your legs flopping to either side of him, unable to control your shaking muscles. You were a virtual rag doll, helpless against his lewd ministrations as he drew your orgasm out to the very last quivering spasm.

You laid there, spent and shaking, heaving for breath, mind spiraling in a tailspin. You were barely aware of his hand coming up and taking his watch from your limp fingers, wondering at his grunt of satisfaction. At some point, he stood, and you could feel his hands on you again, petting you with soothing, languid strokes.

“Look at me, love,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek in his palm. “C’mon, sweetheart. Come back t’yer Johnny, now.”

You blinked your eyes open to see him hovering over you. The entire lower half of his face was smeared with your slick, lips swollen and shiny, a gleaming bright red hue. His mohawk was a wild, spiky mess, his flushed cheeks bunched up, blue eyes crinkled at the corners by the huge smile stretched across his face. “There’s my girl,” he whispered, before capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

You could taste your cum on his lips, on his tongue, and so help you, if you didn’t feel that heady swoop of arousal in your gut again. You were ruined. He had completely and utterly ruined you for anyone else, and he knew it.

He lifted his watch up in front of you, brows raised. “Two minutes, forrty-seven seconds,” he informed you, grinning. You huffed out an exasperated breath and rolled your eyes shut. “Ah-ah,” he murmured in a tender but teasing tone. “No hidin’ from me, now, love. C’mon. Open those pretty eyes fer me.”

You dragged open your heavy lids, peering up at him with hooded, glassy eyes. “What?” you rasped out, your voice gone husky from― God help you― screaming his name. Just like he said you would.

His face softened. “Are ya alright, lovie?” he asked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It wasn’t too much, was it?”

Your hand came up to cradle his jaw, your thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip. “I’m okay. Think I’m just still a little out of it. No one’s... Nobody has ever made me feel that way before, Johnny,”

If Johnny thought he had fallen for you before, he was dead certain of it now. Your confession sent him soaring into orbit, even as it melted his heart. “Yer never gettin’ rid o’ me now, hen. Yeh’ll have t’beat me off with a stick, an’ even then, I’d still come crawlin’ back t’ya.”

Your brow creased. “Don’t tease me like that, Johnny.”

He gave you a wry smile. “Not teasin’ ya, sweetheart. I mean it. I finally ― Jaysus, I finally got ya, an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya go.” He dipped his head down to catch your eyes. “I hope ya feel the same.”

You stared at him, eyes searching his face, looking for that smirk to appear, for him to say he was just messing with you, but all you saw was sincerity and affection reflected in his eyes. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest. “I do. Always have.”

His smile could have lit up the whole of London. “Aye?”

You smiled back at him and nodded. “Aye.”

He darted his head down to kiss you again, his hands starting to roam again with purpose. Your arms came to twine around his neck as his hands grasped your thighs and tugged you forward.

You broke the kiss, startled, and looked up at him. “What are you doing?”

He reached over and grabbed his watch, wrapping your fingers around it. “Did ya ferget what I told ya, lovie? Remember? I said I’d have ya screamin’ me name in five minutes, an’ have ya cummin’ on me cock in ten.” Your eyes went wide as he reached down and undid his belt and jeans, pushing them down til his cock sprang out. It smacked against his lower abdomen, and you gulped as you took in its length and girth. Apparently, they grew ‘em big in Scotland. Holy shit.

“Now, love,” he murmured, grasping your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. “I’d advise ya to hang on, ‘cause I’m about to make good on the rest o’ that promise.”

And let it never be said that Johnny MacTavish was nothing if not a man of his word. Needless to say, you didn’t make it into work the following evening, not the way you were walking.

#super soap sunday #cod soap smut #johnny soap mactavish x fem reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x fem reader #mactavish monday

289 notes · View notes

hippolotamus · 4 months

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✨2023 writing round-up✨

Writing Round-Up: Share what you wrote this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you wrote or just the ones your most excited about.

2023 saw me writing a lot of unexpected and new things! It's been a unique year in the Hippoverse to say the least. Going to highlight some of my favs as well as things that never made it to AO3 💖 Putting it all under the cut to save your dash 😘

January

you spoke to me so sweetly | 2.6k | E (Twylexis)

aka the fic I wrote before shit got real

Alexis hums her appreciation, letting her eyes fall closed while Twyla repeats the circuitous route, and breathing in the blend of lavender and lemon oil her wife insisted upon for “calm and good luck”. The temporary serenity only lasts for three or four passes until a light knock at the door interrupts. She doesn’t try to hide her instant pout when the gentle pressure disappears and she’s forced to open her eyes again. Dr. Rist breezes inside, far too perky in Alexis’s opinion. Perhaps it’s a good sign. Despite her nerves, Alexis plasters her PR smile on, and clasps Twyla’s hand – the only tell she’ll allow to indicate she’s worried while they wait to find out what kind of life changing the appointment will be. “Well,” Dr. Rist says. “Alexis. Twyla. Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s begin, shall we?”

tumblr prompt fill for but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new years day featuring David and Stevie -

Stevie turns her head and he’s very uninterested in the look on her face, what it might mean. He’s only seen it once before - in the low light of her messy apartment - which is why he’s positive she’s about to drop a bomb on him. Something that preemptively makes his insides twist. It’s too much for getting high and laying out on the roof of the high school.

March

all in the Jee-tails | 4.5k | T (Buddie)

Okay. Just a little turn aaaand- yes. Alright, only one more to go. You got this, Buckley. Buck watches with fascination as the sewing machine’s needle dips and resurfaces, piercing the shimmery blue fabric. A wave of satisfaction and pride washes over him when the final stitches meet seamlessly with the beginning ones. For only putting in minimal effort during Family & Consumer Sciences, he’s impressed with his handiwork. He eases his foot off the pedal and snips the thread, freeing his creation so he can try it on. Ever since Jee watched Sleeping Beauty and Shrek for the first time she’s become obsessed with all things fantasy. Much to Maddie, Chim and Eddie’s amusement, Buck couldn’t help himself from buying her a sparkly dress (or three), as well as a tiara fit for pint-sized royalty. Of course, once she had her clothes to play dress up, she needed a fearsome beast to battle. And, well, how was Buck supposed to be an effective dragon without his own wings? OR There is a Princess, Knight, Dragon, Wizard and Damsel in Distress and there is nothing Uncle Buck won't do for his niece.

NGL I absolutely adore this one. I had a blast writing it and assigning roles to the Han-Buckley-Diaz family.

I'm reaching for you, terrified | Buddie tumblr post

I’m leaving the 118. Buck has had his oxygen tank run out, he’s been caught in more natural disasters than he’d prefer, and trapped under a ladder truck. Among other things. Those agonizing memories pale in comparison to what he feels now, hearing Eddie’s announcement. He’s a mix of breathless and numb and tingling pinpricks dancing over his skin. Of too much and not enough and loss.

May

I know all your secrets | 4.6k | E (David/Patrick)

A fic I originally published in 2022 but added a much needed chapter to

Patrick grins, noting the warm, spicy scent filling the spaces between them. It should make him wary, but that sensation stopped long ago, replaced by want and lust. “Rose, we meet again.” “So we do,” David purrs in response. “I hope you’ve been well since Denmark.” Patrick traces a finger over the curves he’s become so accustomed to, feeling the sleek mother-of-pearl buttons under his skin until he hooks onto the V of the single-breasted tuxedo jacket. “Never better. Should we exchange the usual my country wants you dead pleasantries first or is foreplay off the menu tonight?” or the AU where Agents Brewer and Rose are rival spies who can't seem to stay away from each other

June

the only thing that matters now (is everything) | 882 | G (Twylexis)

aka the fic I wrote after shit got real

Alexis combs her fingers through her hair, letting manicured nails lightly scratch along her scalp while she stares at the ceiling. Golden wavy strands glide between her fingertips before dropping back to the pillow, a feeling she wants to take advantage of while she can. The self-soothing act had always calmed her as a little girl. Tonight she’s not exactly troubled, but ever since the tests came back, and the immediate future is wrapped in so much uncertainty, she’s found herself doing it more often. Beyond the sliver of moonlight spilling through the window, painting an ethereal line across the carpet and over the blankets, she doesn’t know what time it is. Only that it’s still night, and dawn could be minutes or hours away. Patrick, with all his lil’ nature skills, would probably know without having to look at a clock. She’ll have to ask next time they talk. ---------------------- A future fic that leaves Alexis pondering life put on hold by the unexpected

October

A lil teen Eddie sneaking out to look at the stars tumblr post

November

if this love is pain (let's hurt tonight) | 3.2k | T Buddie

a foray into angsty writing

Eddie knows it’s him immediately. Feels the weight of his presence like a favorite coat that doesn’t quite fit anymore. Of course he does. Try as he might, Eddie will never not know when Buck is nearby. They are too intertwined. Had become too embedded in each other’s lives before- well, before everything. Before death doulas and school projects, lightning strikes and gunshots, poker games and treasure hunts. Long before Christopher graduated high school, Bobby retired and Hen became captain, and Buck… disappeared. One day he and Buck were moving Christopher into his dorm room, laughing and making plans to send care packages from themselves and Tía Pepa. And the next Eddie felt like he was reliving I need some time too all over again. OR After Chris leaves for college Buck mysteriously disappears. Five years later he finally returns with some answers.

stay here honey (i don't wanna share) | 1.8k | E Lutalia

baby's first Lutalia fic!

This – laying around cuddling after sex – isn’t their usual arrangement. Not like they have a usual arrangement. The only constant is one of them needing to blow off some steam and sending a text that sometimes only consists of a question mark. Then they fuck wherever is most convenient, whether that’s a car, motel room or, on at least one occasion, Nat’s office. Once in a while, like tonight, they both have the time and coordination to meet at one of their apartments, although it’s a scenario they tend to use infrequently for the purposes of keeping things casual. OR Natalia helps soothe Lucy after a rough shift

December

Buddie-ish prompt fill for @steadfastsaturnsrings - Eddie doesn’t remember hanging up the phone, or locking the door. He doesn’t remember grabbing the baseball bat that he keeps under his bed in case someone breaks in. Or where his reign of terror began. He supposes he swung for the first thing within reach and didn’t stop until there was nothing left his brain recognized as destructible.

Buddie prompt fill for @statueinthestone (also added to the WIP pile to explore later) - Buck doesn’t remember exactly when the dreams started, just that it was sometime during his 1.0 phase. Like his subconscious realized before he did that sleeping around wasn’t cutting it. That he craved something deeper and more complex than purely physical relationships.

Fellow Travelers prompt fill for @vanillahigh00 - The words are a balm as much as they are a cut. A stabbing reminder of everything Tim can’t have. Could never have, really. Hawk was never his to keep. And as impossible as their love was before, it’s even more so now. Because Hawk belongs to Lucy. He’s a family man, a paragon of virtue within his world. Even if it’s all a lie.

Miscellaneous (edits and other things)

shall i write it in a letter? - Buckley-Diaz Family edit

And there's this boy... Buddie edit

Offering original poem

Adulting Gold Stars (part 2)

Poker Date Buddie edit

Now & Then Buddie edit

TG:M Buddie edit (is it the most amazing thing ever? not particularly but it was my first so you get it too)

London Boy Oliver edit

tagged by @exhuastedpigeon @thekristen999 @wikiangela

no pressure tagging mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @monsterrae1 @buddierights @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @elvensorceress @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @apothecarose @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @jesuisici33 @statueinthestone @pirrusstuff @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @jamespearce9-1-1 @vanillahigh00 @malewifediaz @chaosandwolves @heartshapedvows @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @eowon @spagheddiediaz @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @lemonzestywrites and of course anyone else who wants to share

#i uh did a lot this year #and this isn't even everything #pretty damn proud of myself actually #2023 writing round up #hippo writes #hippo makes things #twylexis fic #lutalia fic #buddie fic #buddieedit #buckley diaz family

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lightvixxen · 2 years

Text

DHSNSKSKSS I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS BC BIG BRAIN THOUGHT

Eddie teaching reader how to smoke! Eddie x afab!reader (reader is called good girl other then that no pronouns mentioned)

Warnings: drug use, Eddie teaching reader how to smoke, Eddie discovering reader has a praise kink.

———

It was a late night in Hawkins, and you happened to be in the trailer park. You and Eddie had been friends for only a short time, you had befriended him after a project you had worked on together.

And now you were sat on Eddie’s bed, watching him carefully roll a joint. You had offhandedly mentioned you had never smoked before but wanted to try to him. Which of course led him to kindly offering his services to teach you.

“Aaaand done!” Eddie held the joint up to your face, “Ta-da!” Eddie quickly fished for his zippo while you giggled. “That something you say every-time you smoke with someone Munson?” You questioned, you knew Eddie was the type of person who doesn’t back down from theatrics so it was a genuine question.

“Nope! Just you, sweetheart” he told you, finally have been able to locate his lighter. “Alright, now getting down to business, I’m going to take the first hit and I want you to watch me, then try to copy it the best you can. Understand?” You nodded quickly, “yeah I understand, Eds.” Eddie smiled at the nickname. “Great.”

You watched as Eddie brought the joint to his lips, quickly lighting it then taking a small drag from the joint, presumably to show how much he wanted you to inhale. Before slowly exhaling. The smoke swirled around him before slowly disappearing. You went to take the joint from him, but he held it just out of reach.

“Now now, the trick is to inhale twice, one to bring it into your mouth the next to actually bring it to your lungs, and don’t try to be all tough and take a big hit, got it?” You nodded once again, he held out the joint and you carefully took it, bringing it up to your lips, doing exactly what he told you to do.

Eddie watched you carefully, fully prepared to tell you to stop if he feared you were taking to big of a hit. But you copied him almost perfectly.

Eddie spoke in a low voice when you inhaled again to actually bring the smoke into your lungs, “thaaats it, good girl”

You choked, immediately spluttering and coughing on the smoke, Eddie watched in amusement, not expecting to accidentally find a kink of yours.

“Dont-“ you coughed again, chest heaving as you caught your breath, “don’t fucking call me that.” Eddie’s smile broke out into a shit eating grin.

“Oh sweetheart, don’t tell me your hiding a praise kink from me!” You felt as if you were on fire, you knew you liked being praised, but the way he said it had your mind going fuzzy. Though it could’ve just been the weed.

“I- I dont-“ Eddie leaned in closer to you, finally taking the blunt back. “Aw don’t get shy on me now, you wanna try shot gunning? Since you obviously can’t handle it by yourself just yet.” You saw the mischievous glint in his eye, and something told you that wasn’t the only thing he had in mind.

You wanted to fucking punch him though.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #dom eddie supremacy #eddie x female reader #eddie munson fic #lightvixxens eddie

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pico-digital-studios · 17 days

Text

Into, Across and Beyond! Scripting: Another Sonic?

At the beginning of One More Hero's first proper chapter, the other Sonic Tails had found wearily woke up tied up to a pretty unique punching bag in the lab.

Sonic?: What the...?

He saw the Tails of the world he was in.

OMT!Tails: Why do you look like Sonic?!

Sonic?: Because I am Sonic!

OMT!Tails: Then why aren't you dead? Why are your eyes green? Why are you taller? And why is your body, erm… in a slightly different shape?

Sonic? (unamused): Pretty sure you just called me fat.

OMT!Tails: W-What? No I'm not! Are you one of Eggman's clones?

Sonic?: No.

OMT!Tails: Are you a well-done robot?

Sonic?: Please stop it.

OMT!Tails: How about an illusion? (to himself) Can't believe I just said that...

Sonic?: Not even close.

Tails thought a little more about it, coming to a better conclusion.

OMT!Tails: Are you from another dimension? Where things are like the same as this universe but different? And you’re Sonic in that universe? But somehow travelled through to this universe, and you don't know how?

Sonic?: U-Uhhhh, wow. That was a pretty lucky… guess.

OMT!Tails: I learned about it in my open week at my new school.

Sonic?: Quantum physics, right? I’m from the, erm, “Crossover Realm”, you could say.

OMT!Tails: This is amazing! You can finally teach me to become a better hero, just like my Sonic told me to be!

He hopped a bit on the spot in excitement.

CR!Sonic: Yeah, then he died. I’m familiar with that sorta thing. (to himself) Godspeed, Plusverse Sonic…

OMT!Tails simply sighed.

OMT!Tails: Look... I made a promise to him.

CR!Sonic: Alright. Here’s lesson number 1, Tails. Don’t watch the mouth…

He revealed himself to be free of the ropes.

CR!Sonic: Watch the hands.

Sonic kicked the punching bag, causing Tails to get tossed against the wall unharmed and without getting hurt as Sonic went out the window.

OMT!Tails: Where are you going?

CR!Sonic: My guess, me being here is Eggman’s doing, and finding him will help me get back home.

CR!Sonic was about to run off, moments before glitching out and tumbling to the floor.

OMT!Tails: Sonic?!

Tails jumped out the window to where CR!Sonic was.

OMT!Tails: A-Are you alright?

CR!Sonic: No, I’m not!

He got back up.

CR!Sonic: Phew. Okay, seems like my body isn't really fresh with being stranded in the wrong dimension.

OMT!Tails: L-Look, I know this is all strange to you, but you've gotta trust me.

CR!Sonic: Listen, Tails. I don’t have time to become a mentor to an alternate version of my little buddy who has a version of me that’s dead! I have a lot going on in my life right now. Like, a LOT!

OMT!Tails: I g-get that, I really do.

CR!Sonic: Uh-huh, sure you do. Now, Tails, before I got here, did you see some kind of strange crystal Egghead’s been looking for for a while now?

OMT!Tails: The Paradox Prism? Kind of.

CR!Sonic: Goodbye!

Sonic raced off with Tails in pursuit.

OMT!Tails: Hey, wait! You didn't even let me give directions!

CR!Sonic: With the Prism, I can just touch it, get sucked in, find MY dimension, and get back to my life!

OMT!Tails: Ahem! It’s not that simple!

CR!Sonic: And why is that?

OMT!Tails: Rarely anyone even knows what that crystal's capable of. Dunno why it settled in this dimension in particular, either.

CR!Sonic: Oh, and what’s gonna happen? I’m gonna get caught by some council? Hilarious. Now, time to pay the doctor a visit!

CR!Sonic raced away.

OMT!Tails: Council? What’s that all about? Gah! Focus, Tails.

OMT!Tails followed him to one of Green Hill's caves, where the Prism was at, albeit partially damaged.

CR!Sonic: Aaaand… Oh, so THAT’S how I got here! You’ve got to be kidding me!

OMT!Tails: It’s already damaged?! Rats…

CR!Sonic looked back at Tails for a moment.

CR!Sonic: … You’re still a techno-nerd, right?

OMT!Tails: Yeah? Why?

He gave Tails the remains of the Prism.

CR!Sonic: Let's get to work! ‘Cause we're going to a Shatterspace!

OMT!Tails: Wha-? Hey, wait!

Upon returning to Tails’s workshop, the little kitsune had questions in his mind about the Shatterspace. Sonic, on the other hand, was eager to get this show on the road.

OMT!Tails: Right now, I have so many questions. What are we planning to do with this? And what's a ‘Shatterspace’?

CR!Sonic: Places where other worlds like ours are at. Interestingly enough, I ended up in one such Shatterspace where a Sonic existed, like yours, and if I'm lucky, there might as well be other mes out there now, alive or not.

OMT!Tails: There's other universes out there? Woah…

Tails was in awe, while CR!Sonic simply smirked.

CR!Sonic: No, not ‘whoa’! You seriously wanna check out a dimension where Eggy's got a friggin Council ripping off New York City?

OMT!Tails: Sounds like we've got a new adventure on our hands!

CR!Sonic: Don't expect it to last long. Though, depending on how long it'll take for me to find home, it may as well last long… but we've got no time to waste! I need you to build us a ship to get there!

Knuckles could be heard outside, hearing something going on in the workshop.

OMT!Knuckles: What’s going on in there?

OMT!Tails: Huh? Knux is outside!

CR!Sonic: Uh oh!

OMT!Tails: I'll keep him out of the loop as best as possible. In the meantime, focus on getting that ready.

CR!Sonic: Got it!

Sonic went to hide as Tails opened the door to his workshop.

OMT!Knuckles: Hey, Tails!

OMT!Tails: Oh! Hey, Knuckles!

OMT!Knuckles: How are you feeling today?

OMT!Tails: Well, a bit better than yesterday, at least.

OMT!Knuckles: That's good to hear. Sally was just asking after you.

OMT!Tails: Right. I really do want to be around her more, but, erm...

OMT!Knuckles: Some world-saving business you gotta do?

OMT!Tails: Yeah, that's it. Got some temporary dimension-travelling to do, and then I'll be back.

OMT!Knuckles: That's fine, little dude. Just stay safe out there, alright?

OMT!Tails: Will do! I'll call you if there's anything I need help with.

OMT!Knuckles: Well, see you later!

He gave Tails an affectionate head-rub before he headed off.

CR!Sonic: Is he gone?

OMT!Tails: Yeah.

CR!Sonic: Well, better get started on building that machine to get us to the Shatterverse.

OMT!Tails: Right!

The two got started, and were soon done preparing a special aircraft for Shatterverse travel, with the Paradox Prism fragment powering it.

OMT!Tails: Phew! All done. This is more complicated than I thought.

CR!Sonic: Alright, let’s get this show on the road!

The pair got the aircraft started up for their travels.

OMT!Tails: Do you know how to work this?

CR!Sonic: Long story.

OMT!Tails: Likely we're gonna need something to travel through this "Shatterverse" safely.

CR!Sonic: We'll figure it out as we go. Now, let's do it to it!

A portal opened up to let them through, and off they went!

#sonic exe #sonic the hedgehog #spider verse #sth #sonic #sonic fandom #sth au #sonic au #spider man

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

Text

WONDERWALL (part 5)

A/N: aaaand the final part is here! thank you for coming on this royal adventure!!

PAIRING: Royal!Harry X Maid!Reader

WARNING: sexual content

WORD COUNT: 11k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

Cassidy is out cold by the time you decide to sneak out. You feel like a silly little teenager, trying to trick her parents and hook up with her crush. Only that your parents are not around, you’re an adult and you have a crush on none other than the future king of the country. It’s a weird situation.

Pulling a hoodie on you tiptoe out of the room, careful not to wake your roommate and then head over to Harry’s room.

It’s been a couple of hours since what happened in the woods so you’ve had some time to think. You couldn’t figure out for sure what Harry’s intentions are, but from the nature of the interaction by that tree you are thinking that it might be just a no strings attached situation. He must be frustrated by his upcoming coronation and becoming a leader and he wants nothing else than just to blow out some steam.

So as you’re nearing his room, walking down the endless hallways of the palace you’re bracing yourself for the possible outcome where Harry asks you to have casual sex with him and nothing more. In the meanwhile, you’re pushing everything into the back of your mind that tells you how badly you want him more than in just a physical way.

As you stand at his closed door you take a few moments to yourself, weighing in on what you’re about to do. If your speculations are right, you’re just about to become friends with benefits with the man who’ll be the king of Eroda in just a little over a week.

Holding your breath you knock on the heavy door and wait for an answer, but instead, it opens and a very much cozy looking Harry appears in front of you. He is wearing sweatpants and a loose, grey t-shirt, appears to be fresh out of the shower, because his curls are damply falling into his forehead.

“Hi,” he breathes out, as if he is surprised you actually came. “Come on in,” he invites you inside holding the door open and you walk in, a sense of intimacy washing over you, standing in his room so late and out of work.

He closes the door and you turn towards each other, a few beats of silence falling upon the room, both of you trying to figure out what to say exactly and at last Harry speaks up first.

“I wanted to kiss you a week ago,” he confesses and your eyebrows shoot up at his words.

“Y-You did?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a soft chuckle as he starts walking towards you slowly. “I didn’t pull back because I didn’t want to. I just… knew that my actions will have consequences and I didn’t want to pull you into it before I figured out what to do.”

“Consequences?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m about to become king,” he comments with a cheeky smile and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him, but he wasn’t expecting anything else from you.

“Oh really? Haven’t heard about that.”

“On a more serious note,” he clears his throat, trying to contain his grin. “Everything I do is watched by the whole country. I can’t just recklessly do what I want and then move on like nothing happened. I hope you understand that.”

“I do,” you nod, nervously fumbling with your fingers.

“Most people expect me to only get involved with women from class, in fact, Valentina has been fantasizing about marrying me probably since she was eight,” he continues and your throat is going dry, you don’t really like where it’s heading so far, is it gonna be the point where he tells you nothing can happen between the two of you because of who you are?

“Decades ago it would have been the end of my family if I was caught with someone like you.” He is now standing about one step away from you and you pray he can’t see the sadness in your eyes. It’s kind of devastating that he cares about it all and now gonna reject you because of it. That’s not how you got to know him so far.

Reaching up he cups your face in his hands and you want to pull away, but the warmth of his touch is pulling you closer, melting into his palm.

“Good thing we’re not living in those times,” he then adds and your eyes widen in shock. That was a twist for sure. “I’m falling for you, Y/N. Like never before,” he admits and you almost faint. Is this really happening? Did he really just confess that to you? “I never thought that a woman who can piss me off like you can would turn my world upside down,” he chuckles and you break a smile too.

“I’m glad I can do that,” you breathe out.

“You do a lot of things to me, Y/N,” he murmurs leaning closer and teasing you with just nudging your nose with his, but not kissing you yet. “And there’s even more I want to do to you.”

“Do them. All of them, please!” you beg, desperate to feel his lips on yours at this point. Harry’s smirk widens, but still doesn’t kiss you.

“Patience. We still have a few things to discuss.”

“Like what?” you breathe out, staring more at his lips than at his eyes. He takes a deep breath and you can sense the change in him in an instant.

“We might not be living in those times but the judgement is still there. People will talk and gossip and say bad things. I don’t want to put you through it without telling you the truth. You have a choice, I don’t. I understand if it’s too much for you.”

“So… what is it exactly we are talking about? The thing between us?” you ask with a shy smile.

“Whatever we want it to be. I already told you I’m falling for you. I want to be with you, get to know you even more and… see what it could be.”

“So you want more than just sex?” you ask bluntly.

“I want you, Y/N. All of you, in any and every possible way,” he answers and a shiver runs down your spine at his words. “I’m using all my self-control to hold myself back right now, especially after having a taste of you already, but I won’t do a thing unless you tell me you want it. That you’re okay with being involved with me.”

“Harry, I’m more than okay,” you breathe out, running short on patience. You want him, more than anything and you’re ready to make sacrifices for him.

“Are you sure?” he hums as he leans so close, his lips are almost brushing against his.

“Completely, please, Harry, just—“ you start to beg, but don’t get to finish before his hungry lips claim yours again, finally.

He is kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, not holding back, his tongue pushing into your mouth right away, he is definitely over holding himself back.

You’re stumbling around in the room until the back of your legs hit the bed and the two of you fall onto the mattress in fits of giggles, but keep kissing, tangled together, rolling around until Harry gets on top of you, his hips pressing against yours and you can already feel him getting hard.

“Harry,” you moan, rolling your hips and he groans against your lips. He feels like a horny teenager again, like he can’t think straight and only wants to get himself buried deep inside you.

He drags his lips down the line of your jaw and the column of your throat while tugging your sweater up on your body along with your shirt underneath, finding a pleasant surprise; you’re wearing no bra.

“Y/N, oh my God I’m fucking crazy about you,” he grunts, tugging the fabrics off of you, leaving you shirtless and your back arches when his lips crash down onto your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth while he gropes your other breast with his hand. Breathing in your scent he feels like he is completely intoxicated and high on you, the best feeling he has ever experienced.

Your greedy hands impatiently fist his shirt as well, ridding him of it soon before he does the same with your pants, leaving you in only your underwear that’s already soaked. Reaching between your legs he swipes two fingers across your clothed pussy, feeling up just how turned on you are.

“This is for me? I made you this wet, huh?” he murmurs, kissing the soft spot behind your ear, his fingers keep moving, feeling you up.

“Yes!” you cry out, wiggling underneath him, desperate to feel more.

Hooking his fingers into the fabric he tugs it down and a moment later you’re lying completely naked on his bed, his lips tasting yours relentlessly with so much hunger. It doesn’t take long for his head to end up between your legs. The sight of him down there, watching you with greedy eyes, you see his back and shoulder muscles move with each movement and you just want to kiss each and every one of them.

He teases you with only kissing the inner side of your thighs, nearing where you need him the most and only allowing his lips on your cunt when you’re on the verge of tears. But then it’s like paradise. He sucks and kisses and uses his fingers to please you, tasting the juice of your pleasure as if it was the sweetest nectar he has ever tasted. One of his hands moves up your body, over your stomach and to your heaving chest and he loves feeling your racing heartbeat under the touch of his palm while he devours you with his mouth.

Though it would be heavenly to come like this, it’s not what you want right now. You want his cock inside you and before that, you want a taste of him as well. Grabbing a handful of his hair you tug him up and he understands the message, moving up he is eager to press his lips to yours and the taste of yourself mixes with your moans before you push him down to the mattress and get on top of him. You kiss your way down his chest, explore the patterns on his soft skin and every time your tongue presses against his hot skin he groans impatiently, his hips buckling up involuntarily.

When you finally reach the elastic of his pants the bulge in it is already impressive and you palm it over the fabric, earning yourself a loud moan and you can’t hold a proud smile back before you hook your fingers into the elastic and pull his pants down along with his underwear, his hard cock springing free in front of you.

Fuck, he is so big, the red tip already leaking and you haven’t even started with him. He watches you intently as you wrap a hand around the base and leaning down you kiss the tip before giving his massive length a lick from bottom to top.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he moans, the muscles in his thighs twitching from the sensation. You place your free hand to his inner thigh, his fingers digging into his flesh as you take him into your mouth and give him a gentle suck before taking several inches of him.

With a hand on the back of your head Harry’s eyes roll back into his head, your name falling from his lips as desperate pleas while you bob your head up and down, forcing yourself to take more and more of him, just the sounds that rip out of his chest are making you feral and obsessed with having him like this; at your mercy and falling apart.

Harry is about to burst in bliss, every time his cock disappears in your mouth he falls for you more and more and harder than ever. And as much as he loves having himself buried in your warm mouth, he wants to feel himself in your pussy already.

He cups your jaw in his hand and pulls you up, you let go of his cock with a pop, your lips are glistening from your saliva and Harry tugs you up, crashing his lips onto yours as he flips you over and onto your back on the mattress, getting on top of you, his hips settling between your legs and you moan loud and shamelessly when the tip of his cock presses against your clit. Harry reaches to the side and blindly tears the drawer of his bedside table open, but you grab his wrist and pull it back.

“I’m on birth control and I really want to feel you raw, please!” you tell him, kissing the corner of his mouth and his answer is a guttural growl before he kisses you hard and reaches down between your naked bodies to position himself to your center.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment probably since the day I first saw you,” he murmurs against your lips and you whimper when he drags the head of his hard cock up and down your pussy, collecting wetness before he pushes just the tip inside. “Are you mine, Y/N? I want you all to myself.”

“I’m yours. All of me, it’s yours,” you gasp as he slowly pushes more and more in until his whole length is buried deep inside you.

“Fuck, say that again!” he begs as he starts moving, in and out, slowly picking up his pace.

“Yours, Harry. I’m yours,” you repeat as you wrap your arms around his torso, your fingers digging into his back muscles.

His arms frame your head and his lips capture yours in messy kisses from time to time as he keeps thrusting in and out of you. It’s everything you ever wanted and needed, you’ve never felt like this before with anyone and if you had an ounce of doubt in you about Harry, now it’s all gone. You want him, in and out, all to yourself and for as long as possible.

It’s almost embarrassing how fast your orgasm builds up and you come screaming his name, but he doesn’t last longer either, his hips falling out of rhythm as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, riding his high to the fullest.

After a few more sloppy thrusts his movements come to a halt, but he remains on top of you. Minutes or maybe hours go by before he rolls off or you, but his arms lock around you in an instant, pulling you against his sweaty body and you gladly melt against him. His lips press against your forehead and when you lift your head to look at him you see his beautiful green irises are filled with joy as he smiles at you.

“Your majesty, you’re a bit possessive, huh?” you tease him with a giggle, referring back to how he demanded you to tell him you’re his.

“As if you didn’t enjoy being labeled as mine. I saw the shine in your eyes,” he grins before craning his neck so his lips could meet yours for a short, chaste kiss.

“I’m yours, but are you mine too?” you ask softly as you cup his cheek in one hand.

“Completely,” he replies without hesitation before he turns his face and kisses into the palm of your hand.

You’re late.

Again.

But this time it’s not entirely your fault.

Running around the room you’re collecting your clothes from here and there, putting them on in a hurry while your hair is still one big mess, bouncing around with every movement. You have about one minute to be down at the morning briefing, but you have no idea where your shoes are.

“Under the chair, Love,” Harry’s voice snaps you out of your frantic search and your head snaps in his direction. He’s lying in his bed, king sized for a future king, no shirt and you know for a fact that no underwear under the sheets. His arms are tucked under his head as he’s watching you with a smug grin, knowing well that he is the reason you’re late.

You wanted to get up and out of bed in time, but he wouldn’t let go of you, kept stealing kisses until they turned a little more heated which eventually led to some hot morning sex. Not that you’re complaining, but Agnes won’t be glad when you stumble into the briefing late and looking completely unpresentable.

“Thanks,” you huff and grab your shoes from where he said they were and put them on with one hand while trying to comb through your hair with your other one.

“Can I get a goodbye kiss?” he asks innocently, but there’s no doubt the moment you’d get into his reach he would pull you back into bed. His morning meeting got canceled yesterday and now he is way too smug about having a few free hours for himself, even though it’s not the case for everyone.

It’s been two days since Sunday, the turning point. Two blissful days of… whatever it might be that’s going on between you and Harry. Now it seems ridiculous there was a time you thought Harry didn’t want you. Ever since the wall between the two of you broke down he’s been making sure you know just how into you he is.

“You look stunning today.”

“I love your smile, especially when it’s because of me.”

“I wish I could spend the whole day with you.”

“I’ll be thinking about you until I see you again.”

These are just a few of the things that made the butterflies in your stomach go wild, turning you into a giddy teenager. Every moment you spend apart you ache to know where he is, what he is doing and whether he is thinking about you, but according to him, you’re always on his mind. Which is great, because you can’t stop thinking about him either.

“We both know it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” you tell him with a knowing look as you somehow regulate your hair into a bun.

“I’m sorry I can’t get enough of you,” he innocently apologizes, but the grin on his face tells you otherwise.

“Stop trying to get into my panties again!” you warn him but walk closer to the bed anyway. He scoots to the side as you approach him, but you stop just out of his reach. “Just a kiss, Harry. Seriously, I’m already late.”

“Tell them I needed your immediate help.”

“With what exactly?” you arch an eyebrow, inching closer so now his hand can sneak up your thigh, under your skirt. His smirk widens and he needs no words to let you know his answer. “You’re so needy all the time,” you roll your eyes but lean down anyway, pressing your lips against his soft ones, he kisses you back right away, one hand remained on your thigh, his fingers gently massaging the muscles while his other one cradles the back of your head, gently pulling you down, keeping you close to stretch the kiss out for as long as possible.

“I really have to go,” you mumble against his lips and with one last peck, you pull away and head towards the door.

“The things you do to me!” Harry growls and you just laugh, glancing back at him one last time from the door.

“I didn’t do anything,” you wink at him before walking out and leaving him alone.

The gods had you in their favors. When you finally get to the briefing it hasn’t started yet, someone kept Agnes up so she storms into the room just about five seconds after you and misses how you were totally late.

You ignore Cassidy’s staring, who’s been on your case for a long time now. You haven’t told her exactly what’s been going on between you and Harry, but it’s obvious you can’t hide it much longer. She’s not stupid, she can tell something is up and you hate not telling her the truth.

Through the whole briefing you feel her eyes on you, she knows you didn’t spend the night in the room and you’ll have to come clean.

For the noon you get signed up for laundry along with Cassidy and two other girls, Krissi and Leah.

“That’s it for today. Report to me when everything is done on your list and we’ll see if there’s anything else to do. Thank you,” Agnes dismisses the group and everyone goes on their merry way.

“You’re not getting away from telling me everything this time,” Cassidy tells you as you head up to your floor, Krissi and Leah walking a few steps ahead of you.

“Chill down, I know! But this might not be the right moment,” you whisper back, looking around cautiously.

“The right moment was about two days ago. I want to know everything!”

Sighing you look around again and make sure no one is listening before you link your arm with Cassidy’s and lean close to keep your voice down.

“I’m… seeing Harry. Like, we’re… we’re a thing.”

“A thing? Like… you’re hooking up?” she whisper-yells with wide eyes.

“It’s more than just hooking up. We’re just gonna see where it’s heading.” You can’t hold a smile back from your lips just thinking about everything that has happened since last Sunday.

“Oh my God, you’re so gone for him!” she gasps. “What is he like in bed? Is he as good as people assume?”

“Cassidy!” you snap at her, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Come on, I need a little something!”

Sighing you pull her to the side by one of the windows before you’d turn the corner to the queen’s suit.

“He is… the best. In every way. He is passionate and caring, always makes sure to give just as much as he gets, if not more.”

“Fuck, he sounds like the perfect lover,” she hums dreamily. “You spent every night with him since your little classes?”

“Yeah,” you nod with a giggle. “It’s been hard to keep our hands off of each other.”

“You lucky bitch! You have what the whole kingdom wants! Or at least the women.”

“Shh, keep it down! We don’t want the whole palace to know about it yet,” you shush her.

“So it’s a secret affair?”

“Well… It wouldn’t be smart to make it so public when we don’t know for sure what it is,” you explain. “It’s a complicated situation and he’s very protective. He danced back before because he didn’t want to bring me into something seriously affecting without thinking it through and having my approval.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet,” she swoons.

“I know,” you sigh with a full heart.

“Y/N, I’m happy for you,” Cassidy smiles back at you, giving your hand a squeeze.

Before anyone could pick up what you’re talking about you return to work and don’t mention Harry when anyone is around, especially Leah and Krissi. Laundry work is kind of a neutral task, you collect the dirty ones, bring them to the laundry room, start the machines and bring clean ones. Easy as it is, but it doesn’t need much concentration either and you can’t help but keep thinking about Harry.

You’re falling for him with every passing moment, even when you’re not around him. You’ve never felt like this before, no man was able to sweep you off your feet the way Harry has been doing and you know your feelings are already stronger than you ever felt for anyone else before.

There aren’t many questions in you about where you want to head with him. You see a future with this man, even with all the obstacles you might have to face for the most human thing to ever exist.

As if he could feel you thinking about him, your phone buzzes in your dress’ hidden little pocket and when you pull it out you see a message from him.

HARRY: Meet me in my office.

His study room just got finished this weekend and now he has officially taken the spot where his father used to do business. He didn’t say it but it’s obvious it means a lot to him, that it’s an important connection between his father and him.

“Cass, I’m gonna take a quick break,” you let your friend know. She smiles at you knowingly and nods before you part ways.

Excitement rushes through your veins as you try not to run down the hallways like an excited little kid. Walking past guards and other staff you finally arrive at his study and knocking on the massive doors you wait for an answer from inside.

The door opens as you’re rolling on the ball of your feet and you get pulled into the room before you could even process what’s happening. One of Harry’s arms curls around you to keep you on your feet in the sudden motion, he shuts the door closed and presses you up against it, his lips claiming yours in an instant.

“Mm, missed me, huh?” you giggle, returning his hungry kisses.

“I always miss you when you’re not with me,” he murmurs before burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands already wandering underneath your skirt. As much as you would love to take it further, you know you don’t have enough time and it’s risky for you to even be here. So gently pushing him away you pepper his lips with a few more soft kisses and step away from the door. Luckily, he gets the hint and completely understands it.

The room looks fantastic. It’s spacious, almost every wall is lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves with books as thick as your arm, his massive desk situated near the bright windows, allowing the light to hit it perfectly, there is a corner with a sofa and some armchairs and a giant and probably incredibly expensive coffee machine with a set of china next to it. Everything looks so… royal, so impressive, it’s exactly what you’d picture for a king.

For your king.

“Wow, it looks amazing,” you look around in awe and walking over to the desk you slide your fingers over the shiny surface of it.

“You like it?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind.

“Yeah, it suits you,” you smile, turning to face him. “Sit there, let me see what you look like doing business,” you giggle, nodding towards the leather seat behind the desk.

He smirks, walking around the desk and you watch him take the seat, leaning onto the top as he watches you. You can’t help but bite into your bottom lip at the sight of him. He’s wearing his usual crispy white shirt, but the sleeves are rolled up, showing off the ink on his skin and the way only one corner of his mouth is curling up is giving you ideas of what you could do that would involve this desk between the two of you.

“Come ’ere,” he murmurs, leaning back in the seat and you obey without a second thought. He turns away from the desk and spreads his knees so you can stand between them. Reaching out you run a hand through his hair as his palms slip to your waist, tugging you closer, making you almost fall on top of him.

“You’re being naughty, what if someone comes in?” you warn him, but make no action to put at least some distance between you and him.

“No one barges in here without knocking first,” he hums and turning his head he kisses your arm, your hand still tangled into his hair. “But if someone did… would it be so bad if they caught us?”

“Weren’t you the one who said we need to think everything through before acting? Getting caught might not be the best way to make it official.”

“Make what official?” he smirks cheekily.

“That… we’re a thing?”

“A thing?” he chuckles. “That’s quite the label.”

“Okay, then what do you want to call it?”

“I want to call you mine.”

“I’m already yours,” you smile at him softly before leaning down you press your lips against his and he returns it eagerly. “And you’re mine, right?” you whisper against his lips.

“Yours. And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he answers before kissing you passionately.

Though you could stop yourself before, hearing his words you feel your self control vanishing and you want him way more than just moments ago. His hands are exploring your body as he kisses you with intense hunger and you return it just as eagerly, pressing yourself up against him.

He emerges from his seat without breaking away from you and the next thing you know is that he is helping you up onto the desk, his hips pressing between your open legs. The whole scenario feels like it’s straight out of one of your fantasies, never in a million years you would have thought you’d find yourself in this situation, with none other than the future king of Eroda. Sometimes you still feel like it’s too good to be true.

Soft moans slip through your parted lips when you involuntarily roll your hips against his, Harry groans against your neck where he is nibbling on the skin, kissing and sucking it, not even caring if he leaves marks behind. He is way too lost in the bliss of having you in his arms.

“Fuck, Y/N… You’re…” he mumbles before kissing his way back to your mouth.

“I’m what?” you breathe out, your words turning into a moan when his growing erection is pressed against your center.

“You’re everything,” he replies, stealing your next moan as he kisses you so hard you almost fall back on the desk.

Neither of you are planning to stop, it’s way too heated and you can’t think straight anymore, but when you hear voices coming from outside you jump off the table and Harry moves back, though the state both of you are in and the way your chest is heaving are massive give-aways of what was happening.

The people pass by the door and their voices die down in the hallway, but it was the reminder you needed that it’s not safe to just fall for your desires whenever and wherever.

“Sorry,” Harry chuckles, running a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath and you feel your cheeks heating up when you see the bulge in his pants. Hopping off the desk you walk past him and stand by the window as you fix your clothes and hair. He completely messed up your apron somehow, so you untie it at the back and try to redo it, though you’re not the best at it, usually Cassidy helps you out.

“Let me do it,” Harry softly murmurs as he steps behind you and takes over the task. He ties it carefully before his hands slip to your waist from behind and he kisses into your neck.

“Don’t start again, your majesty,” you sigh as you turn around in his hold and kiss him gently, careful not to get back to where you were just moments ago.

“I’m sorry, can’t help it,” he grins, stealing another kiss before forcing himself to let go of you.

Smiling to yourself you smooth out the wrinkles on your dress and absentmindedly glance out the window, realizing just how sheer the curtains are. The windows are massive and Harry’s desk is dangerously close to them, meaning that if someone was walking by they would easily spot what the two of you were doing.

Looking around cautiously you don’t see a thing, but there’s an eerie, unsettling feeling in your guts that tells you, you should have been more careful.

“Everything alright?” Harry asks and you tear your gaze away from the view to see him tucking his shirt back into his pants.

“Yeah,” you nod with a faint smile. “I really should go back to work.”

“Can I see you tonight?”

“We’ll see,” you chuckle. Walking over to him you fix his collars before pressing a short kiss to his lips and heading towards the door.

“I’ll be waiting,” he calls after you. Glancing over your shoulder you wink at him before slipping out of the room, hoping no one noticed your rapid visit.

It’s been a tiring day. Harry’s last meeting has stretched longer than he expected, but it’s been his usual all week. With the coronation coming up on Monday, so in just two short days, his duties are never ending, it seems.

His study finally empties out as his last guest leaves the palace and thankfully, he is finished for the day. Collapsing into his seat he takes a few moments in the quiet and peace he’s been dreading all day, knowing well it all starts in the morning again.

But it’s what he signed up for. This is what he always knew he would be doing and he loves to serve his country and be a leader, but sometimes he wishes he could just take a day off.

There’s a knock on the door and he almost groans, but when he calls out and sees his mother walking in he loses his lack of enthusiasm towards his guest.

“Hey,” he breathes out and standing up from his seat he rounds the desk and nods at Anne, inviting her to sit on the sofa.

“Hi, did you just finish for the day?” she asks. This past week the queen has completely given up on her tasks, allowing Harry to take over the lead before his official coronation. That means she hasn’t been attending many meetings along with her son so the two of them didn’t see much of each other.

“Yeah, finances always take longer than anything else,” he chuckles, as they settle on the sofa.

“Believe me, I know,” she smirks knowingly. “I wanted to come by and ask how you’ve been. The big day is just around the corner.”

“I’m doing fine. I don’t have much time to not be,” he jokes.

“It’s crazy for now, but you’ll get used to it and also better at it.”

“I know,” he nods. Anne takes a deep breath, taking a look around before her eyes settle over Harry again.

“I’ve noticed that there’s a little shine in your eyes lately. What do you have to say about that?” she asks and they both know exactly what she’s talking about.

Anne knows Harry better than anyone and even after spending so much time apart, she can easily spot the slightest change in him right away. She is the biggest expert of Harry Styles.

“Not much. Only that… I’m happy,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Is it because of a particular person?”

“Why do you even ask when you know exactly what the answer will be?” he rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “It’s because of her. Y/N. I’m… I’m seeing her.”

“So it’s somewhat official?”

“I mean… between us, it is. We haven’t figured out what to do.”

“So you’re planning with her? It’s not just a fling?”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head confidently. “She is… I want to be with her. Always. And I think she feels the same way about me.”

“Well, that’s a great start,” she smiles and Harry feels relief washing over him, even though he knew his mother would support him no matter what. “I assume you don’t have a plan then.”

“That’s the last thing I have,” he admits laughing.

“Alright. Then maybe think about it. So when you’re a little bit less busy you’ll know what to do. I wouldn’t want you to find yourself in a situation that might hurt anyone you care about, or what’s worse, hurt you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just been so wrapped up in everything and it’s been nice to have something… just for myself.”

“I know and I wish you could keep it that way,” she sighs and reaching over she gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “But I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Do you think… Do you think she’ll be attacked if word gets out?”

“As I said before, there is always going to be judgment, no matter what. They won’t see the woman you see when you look at her. They’ll only see a maid who somehow got involved with the royal family and for some standards that’s unacceptable. So you have to brace yourself for the worst case scenario.”

“We’ll think about it and consult with the right people eventually,” Harry nods.

“I know you’ll make the best decisions. You always do,” she smiles before giving his hand another squeeze.

Harry can’t stop thinking about you after that in the sense where he is trying to imagine his life without you. He can’t. The way you’ve made him feel, he’s obsessed and he wants to keep it forever. When he was younger he questioned whether he’d ever find the person he’d want to stay with forever. Who’d make him feel so…

Loved.

And in love.

Harry loves you, he knows that now. He’s been trying to label his feeling, but because he’s never felt like this before he couldn’t decide what it was. Now he is sure he is in love with you.

That night he is waiting for your arrival impatiently, wanting to see you after a long day spent apart and when you slip into his room he is quick to pull you into his arms and kiss you with all the love he has for you.

“Hello to you too,” you grin against his lips, your arms hugging his neck as you stand on your tiptoes to lessen the height difference between the two of you.

“Hi,” he smiles, resting his forehead against yours. Just looking into his eyes you see the change in him and it worries you for a moment.

“What happened?” you ask, cupping his face in your hands.

“Nothing, I just… I’m thankful you’re here. With me.”

Smiling warmly at him you kiss his lips before pulling him towards the bed. Despite his words you can tell something is different and you feel like tonight it’s best if you just simply hold each other. Harry curls around you in an instant as you get under the sheets and you wrap your arms around him, his head resting on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat.

“Are you nervous about monday?” you ask, playing with his curls.

“A little bit, yeah,” he hums. “I just don’t want to trip and fall anytime during the ceremony,” he adds with a chuckle.

“That would be funny,” you grin. “But I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

“Y/N?” he softly says.

“Yes, Harry?” you answer and he loves the way you say his name.

“Nothing will change between us, right?” he asks, lifting his head up so he can look into your eyes. “Whatever happens, we’ll be the same. I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine, right?”

“We’ll be the same, Harry. No matter what,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

That’s all he wanted to hear, that even in the midst of the craziest time of his life he’ll have you the way he needs you.

On Sunday you wake up early in the morning and after kissing Harry goodbye several times and successfully peeling yourself out of his needy grip, you return to your room before the morning rush could start in the palace. Cassidy is still asleep, she has about thirty more minutes before her alarm goes off so you make sure to stay quiet for that time. Busying yourself with braiding your hair and scrolling on your phone you kill some time and enjoy the stillness of the early hours.

That is until a knock is heard on the door.

At first you think it’s Harry. Who else would be at your door so early? However as you walk over to the door and open it you’re surprised and kind of shocked to see Agnes. She is not wearing her uniform yet, though her casual attire doesn’t ease the seriousness she always carries in her presence.

“A-Agnes, good morning,” you say, not entirely sure how to act.

“Follow me,” she simply tells you and there’s no place for protest as you follow her down the hallway.

There are a million questions racing in your head but you don’t dare to speak as you head in the direction of Harry’s study and part of you already knows what it’s about, but you ignore it just for a few more seconds before you have to face reality.

As you’re escorted into the room the first person you see is Harry, he is standing behind his desk, leaning onto it, his head hanging low, but as you step inside it lifts and you see his wide, bloodshot eyes and your stomach drops.

Then you see the queen and a few more people who work for the royal family and suddenly you feel like you’re being examined through a microscope.

“G-Good morning, your majesty,” you breathe out, not sure about the etiquette in this odd situation. Harry ignores your confused greeting as he pushes himself away from the table and rounding it you see his pained expression just worsen.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes right away and as he reaches you he takes your hands between his.

“For what exactly?” you ask quietly.

Before anyone could say a word Agnes hands you a copy of the Sunday newspaper and on the very first page you see several pictures of yourself. They were taken through a window and you immediately know when they were taken so you’re not surprised the situations you see your past self in. You’re wearing your uniform and there’s one where you’re standing by the window, Harry right behind you, kissing into your neck as he holds your waist, and then there are the spicy ones, where you’re on the desk and though most of you is hidden behind Harry’s figure, there’s no denying about what was happening.

And then you see the headline: Future king caught hooking up with young maid.

“Fuck,” you breathe out as you stare at the pictures. You’re not a PR expert, but it’s obvious the photos are scandalous, the scenario is definitely not one you’d want to portray yourself in as a king.

“The timing of the publication was definitely set to be right before the coronation, to make it as big as possible,” one of the PR people speaks up, but you zone out on his further words as you open the newspaper and read some lines from the article. Additionally to the front page there are two more whole pages dedicated to the pictures, there are some more of just Harry from previous events and then they somehow got a few of you as well and it makes you realize your Instagram account is completely public. To make it go well with the narrative, they chose older pictures of you where you appear even younger and more inappropriate in age to Harry.

…The long time bachelor of the royal family seems to be fulfilling his needs with the staff of the palace. According to sources Y/N Y/L/N has been working as a maid for the royal family for the past few years and it seems like lately her duties have been expanded…

…Though the prince’s love life had always been kept private, it appears there’s more hidden than what we were expecting. And after all, we found out that his type is definitely the younger, more naive, classless women. Maybe he has had enough of the high expectations of the ladies in the kingdom and seeked something easier…

You hear more and more talking around you but all you can focus on is the article that keeps going on and on about how you’re just some nobody, a toy Harry likes to play with because you’re just an easy hook up, a temporary fix for his needs. It’s everything you feared from the first moment.

“We need to act right now or don’t do anything,” you hear the queen talk firmly. “We don’t have much left before hell breaks loose online, we need to have a plan.”

“We’re suing them, right?” Harry asks, one hand on your lower back while you just stand there, with the paper in your hand, your anxiety growing with each passing second. “Those pictures were taken on the property of the palace where they are not allowed.”

“Security issues are already being checked out to see how it could happen and our legal team is working on pressing charges. But that doesn’t make the story disappear,” the PR person says.

The discussion carries on and you feel like you’re not even there, like you’re just a ghost with nothing to add, nothing helpful and it’s starting to feel too much all at once.

“Excuse me,” you breathe out under your breath and you’re not sure anyone even heard you. Harry notices as you move towards the door and he calls after you, but you’re out of the room fast, running down the hallway and away from the issues that fell on your shoulders all of a sudden.

You know exactly where you’re going, to the place where you can be alone and have a breather from everything to think it all through. To the lake.

Harry tries to go after you, but he is held back, however he knows exactly where he needs to be also. With you.

“Your majesty, we need to take the matter in our hands, every minute matters,” the PR guy reminds him, but Harry is quick to shut him down.

“Do whatever you want. I trust you with the matter, but I need to make sure she is alright, understood?”

They want to protest, but Anne is the first one to speak up.

“I’ll take care of it. You go and do whatever you need to do,” she tells Harry and he looks back at her with appreciation before leaving the room to go after you.

By the time he frees himself you’re nowhere in sight, but he knows exactly where must have gone and he wastes no time running after you. To get there quicker he decides to take Ladybug out, heading to the lake in the woods.

You reach the water completely out of breath, but it’s not only because of the running, it’s also because of the panic attack you’ve been dealing with ever since you saw that newspaper. You should have seen it coming, that no matter what people would find the worst in you and pick you apart. You’ll always be the naive young girl, a little nobody next to the king of Eroda.

What if Harry sees you that way too? What if you really are just an easy, temporary fix until he finds someone with class to marry and be picture perfect with? You feel stupid for thinking he’d ever choose you, that he’d put himself through all of this for being with you.

“Fuck,” you gasp as you sit down by the water, onto the pebbled ground and just stare out ahead of you, tears dwelling in your eyes. It’s so early in the morning, you’re wearing the clothes you slept in, but you think about just walking into the water and submerging to feel isolated from everything.

However you don’t stay alone for long. You hear Ladybug’s galloping before you spot her with Harry. Wiping your cheeks from the tears you jump to your feet just as Harry climbs off of Ladybug, rushing up to you, cradling your face in his hands as he looks down at you with eyes full of worry.

“Y/N, why did you run away?” he breathes out, trying to catch his breath.

“I-I’m sorry, I just… It was too much at once so I wanted to think, but I’m so sorry for everything, Harry!”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, it wasn’t your fault!”

“But you’re being roasted because of me, because of my lack of status and class and it’s ruining your coronation, your big day!”

“Y/N stop, this is none of your fault!” he begs you, desperate to make you understand he doesn’t blame a thing on you.

“I-I’m sorry… It’s so… It’s okay if you want to end it, I would understand,” you whisper, your throat closing up as you’re fighting your tears back even harder, but you’re losing this battle.

“Y/N, listen to me,” he starts in a firm tone, still holding your face in his hands, his eyes focused on yours. “You rewrote my whole universe the moment I laid my eyes on you. Everything has been about you since then, every decision I make, every thought I have, every breath I take is to spend another moment with you even when things seem to be turning against us. There’s nothing that could change the way I feel about you. Absolutely nothing, do you understand me?”

Not trusting your voice all you can do is nod, your hands finding his waist as you push yourself closer to him, wanting to feel him. He rests his forehead against yours before speaking up again.

“Nothing they wrote in that article is true. You’re not just a hookup or a momentary adventure. I want to plan a future with you, Y/N. Forever or for as long as you’ll have me. Every moment I have with you is a gift to me, because… because I love you.”

Your eyes widen at his words and for a moment you think your knees will give up underneath you, but you manage to stay on your feet. It was unexpected and shocking, especially after the whirlwind of thoughts you just had a couple of minutes ago about him.

But one thing is for sure.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your hands fisting his shirt as you press up against him and your lips find his in an instant.

He kisses you back as if he was saying the words over and over again, I love you, I love you, I love you, his lips tell you in a different way than the first time, but you understand the words clear as daylight. The tears keep rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the taste of his lips, but they are a different kind now, you feel full and happy and most importantly, loved.

“Aren’t you needed back there to discuss the situation?” you ask when your kisses slow down, but you’re still tangled in each other, neither of you are willing to let go just yet.

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he smiles before kissing you again.

The two of you ride back to the palace on Ladybug, you practically melt against Harry, completely forgetting about the rest of the world or the fact that you’re sitting on a horse again. He walks Ladybug back into her box and then takes your hand as you head back to his study to face reality.

No one comments on your disappearance and most importantly on the way Harry doesn’t let go of you, not even for just a moment. You sit in silence and listen to the conversation intently as a plan is formed. Before the clock hits eleven a statement will be released that the photos were taken on private property and the person who took them violated the law. Legal steps will be taken and the pictures will be deleted from every media outlet. No further statement will be forwarded, no explanation, no comment. The two of you are required to stay silent about the matter at least until after the coronation.

“And what about after? They won’t just let it die down, will they?” you ask Harry quietly so only he can hear your words.

“We’ll figure it out. We’re gonna have to come forward at one point and give out our own narrative.”

Nodding you just nervously chew on your bottom lip until Harry reaches up and pulls it out from between your teeth.

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Just… talk to me. We can never speak of it in public, if that’s what you want.”

“You know we can’t do that,” you say with a bitter smile. “But I’m okay with… whatever is needed to be done. I just don’t want to make you appear in a bad light,” you admit. “Being seen with me looks to be quite damaging and I understand if you don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

“Y/N, that’s not happening,” he smiles at you gently. “Don’t worry, it’ll be alright.”

“I believe you,” you smile back and steal a quick kiss.

The rest of the day is filled with damage control. The royal legal team is nonstop working on getting a hold of the case and making every photo disappear from the internet, though everyone knows that’s basically impossible.

You stay with Harry for most of it, because one, you kind of want to hear every detail so you know what’s exactly going on. And two, because being with Harry is the only thing that keeps you sane for now.

When the end of the day finally comes you feel dreaded and want nothing else than to just sleep. You’re walking out of Harry’s study after one last meeting with the legal team and Harry is pulling you towards his room, but you stop him.

“Maybe we should spend tonight apart,” you suggest, exhaling shakily.

“What? Why?” he asks and you almost regret your suggestion seeing the panic in his eyes.

“It’s just that tomorrow is your big day, it’ll be busy enough without me being around. With the whole situation… maybe it’s best if we’re not seen together for now.”

Harry wants to protest, to tell you he wants you around him all the time but what you said was rational. It’s what you agreed to do and his day will be documented top to bottom tomorrow, so it’s better if you’re not around, just to keep yourself to the plan. But that doesn’t change the way he feels about you and how he wants you to be around all the time.

“When will I see you tomorrow then?”

“Um, I’ll be working, probably just in the kitchen so I’m not out in the front,” you add with a bitter chuckle. “But… let me know when the craziness is over and we’ll see, okay?”

“At least come to the ball in the evening. Are you working then as well?”

“No I’m not… but maybe it’s not the best decision to show up there.”

You can tell the rejection pains him and you hate that you make him feel like this, but today has been fucked up enough. As much as you need Harry by your side you also know you need some alone time to think everything through.

“Alright,” he nods, clearing his throat. Pulling you into his arms he kisses you without even looking around, checking if anyone is around. You melt into his embrace and kiss him back before he just simply rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile back at him, pecking his lips one last time before parting ways.

It feels like everything crashes down on you again once you return to your room. Cassidy is there, watching your every step as you practically fall into bed with the loudest groan that has ever been heard from you.

“So, are you alright?” she asks, rolling to the edge of her bed.

“I kind of want to die, thanks for asking,” you mumble into the pillow.

“What’s the plan? I read the statement about the legal steps, but nothing about the two of you.”

Sighing you lift your head and push yourself up into a sitting position, crossing your legs as you look at your roommate.

“There won’t be anything for a while. We need the coronation to happen and then we’re addressing the situation.”

“So what, you’re gonna hide until then?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Kind of,” you shrug your shoulders.

“And you’re okay with that? Most importantly, is Harry okay with that?”

“I understand it. I’m not quite the best person to get involved in for a royal, don’t you think?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she scoffs. “No one is better than anyone just because of a stupid title, I thought you know that better than anyone. Why should you hide for literally the most mundane thing to ever exist? For being with someone? Does Harry want to hide you as well?”

“No… not really,” you admit.

“Thank God!”

“He wants me to go to the coronation ball tomorrow.”

“And you’re going, right?”

“I said I wouldn’t…”

“Y/N, you will not just hide in a corner until they let you make an appearance. Harry wants you there, it’s his and your decision, no one else’s. I say you go there, show up looking like a fucking goddess and make everyone regret all the bullshit they said about you!”

You blink back at her at a complete loss of words. You weren’t expecting a speech like this, especially not from her, but it definitely got the message through.

It’s mostly your own inner fears that are messing with your head. Harry made it clear he is not ashamed to be seen with you, he is planning a future with you and that’s exactly how you feel too. Then why should you let stupid, ignorant people decide how you live your life? You want to be there with Harry, support him and be part of the day that changes his whole life.

And no one can take that away from you.

At ten in the morning the next day, Harry officially becomes king of Eroda as the crown is placed on his head in St. Carolina Cathedral.

Just like everyone in the kingdom who is not present at the ceremony, you watch it through a live stream while working in the kitchen. Your chest fills with pride and joy as Harry is introduced as King of Eroda to the crowd, waving and smiling and you wish you could be there to witness it with your own eyes and not just through a screen.

The palace has been buzzing since early in the morning, the works for the big day seemingly never ending. When one thing is done there comes the next, there’s just no stopping.

Originally your shift should end at three, which leaves you just enough time to get ready for the coronation ball. However just five minutes before you are about to be off the clock Agnes comes up to you in a rush.

“Y/N, can you maybe take a few more hours of kitchen service?” she asks with her usual clipboard in her hands that definitely has a lot more papers clipped than on a normal day.

“Oh, I kind of…” you exhale, not sure whether you should come clean about your plans or tell her a lie. At last you realize you’re done hiding and it should start now. “I’m planning to attend the ball, Agnes. I can’t stay any longer.”

She examines you with a straight face and you’re convinced she is about to tell you how stupid of an idea it is, to go against the plan, but at last you see the tiniest smile turning the corners of her mouth upwards.

“You better look flawless, Y/N,” she tells you before rushing off to find a substitute.

The crown feels heavier than he expected, Harry thinks as he takes a look at himself in the mirror. He has just changed from his traditional suit he wore for the ceremony into a more conservative one for the ball, but with the crown on his head it would be hard to lose him in a crowd. All eyes are about to be on him again as he walks into the ballroom and dances with his mother to open the event.

Everything has been going perfectly, there was no mishap, no sudden issues, almost too perfect, if you ask him. But of course, above all the good he knew something was off all day.

He missed having you around.

He was really counting on sharing the night with you, but he didn’t want to press it after your suggestion. Waking up alone was disappointing and he hasn’t seen you all day either. Now the ball is about to start and you told him you wouldn’t be there. He has to go through the whole evening hoping to finally see you and hold you in his arms, that’s all he wants now.

There’s a knock on the door and as he calls out Anne walks in, wearing her ball gown, a black and golden piece that suits the occasion perfectly. She walks over to him with a proud smile to fix his collar even though it looks spotless.

“You know how proud I am of you, right?” she asks, brushing her hands over his shoulder gently.

“I know. And thank you for all the support you gave me,” he nods before pulling her into a hug she’s been dreading, but held herself back not sure if he’d be happy about it.

“I’ll always be by your side,” she smiles, squeezing him to herself. “Alright. Ready to make your first appearance?”

“I guess I am,” he chuckles as the two of them head out.

The ballroom is filled with lords and ladies, tonight is an occasion no one wanted to miss, of course. The trumpets go off as Anne appears on the top of the stairs and walks down gracefully, for the first time as not the queen. When she reaches the end of the stairs she steps aside, the trumpets start playing again and Harry finally steps out, taking a moment to look around in the room while the crowd cheers for him.

He walks down the stairs, just like his mother did only moments ago and the trumpets turn into music with a whole band and when he reaches the bottom he holds out his hand for Anne for their dance.

As they twirl to the middle of the room all he can think about is you and what you taught him about dancing. His posture, his movements, everything is resonating back at your work and the time the two of you spent together at your classes and his thoughts return to missing you once again.

While the two of them are dancing perfectly, at the back of the room the crowd starts to whisper and look around, even part as if someone more important than the king showed up.

It’s you.

You didn’t intend to stop the whole show with your arrival but as soon as people recognized you, it got out of hand. Wearing a simple, but elegant royal blue dress you only wanted to make your appearance known after Harry and Anne’s dance, but the crowd thought otherwise.

It gets to the point where Harry notices that something is happening, his gaze trying to spot what’s causing the scene and then he sees you.

The crowd of guests part until you’re fully visible to Harry as well and you’re obviously in the center of the attention now. Harry stops dancing, unable to look away from you while you look back at you a little uncertain and afraid that he might be mad at you for showing up after all.

He feels none of that, more like the opposite. He can’t believe you’re here, looking like a dream.

Anne squeezes his hand to grab his attention.

“Go, ask her to dance,” she smiles before slipping out of his arms.

Harry turns to face you and then walks up to you as every guest is waiting to see what’s about to happen. He stops right in front of you and takes his time to run his gaze up and down your appearance.

“Hi,” he then smiles at you, barely able to control his emotions.

“Hi. I just… I don’t want to hide. So if you’re okay with it—“

“Can I have a dance, Miss Y/L/N?” he asks with a wide grin as he holds his hand out for you, ignoring your rambling but also giving you an answer at the same time.

Relief washes over you and you could cry from happiness as you take his hand and he leads you to the middle of the room, pulling you into his arms, every pair of eyes glued to you but you only see the man in front of you.

You start dancing, just like before at your classes only that now the whole kingdom can see you and by the morning there will be no question that you and Harry are more than just a fling even though you didn’t say a word.

“When I first saw you at the lake a month ago I didn’t know you’d become my wonderwall,” Harry admits as the two of you sway to the music.

“Your wonderwall? What does that mean?” you ask.

“Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time, the person you are completely infatuated with,” he explains as you listen to him smiling to yourself. “That’s what you are. My wonderwall, my love, my queen…” he lists, his eyes keeping yours in lock and he stops before continuing. “And one day I’ll make you Eroda’s queen,” he adds and without a care in the word, he leans down and kisses you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #royal!harry #king!harry #prince!harry #wonderwall

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eemcintyre · 1 year

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All Eyes On Us (Tom Cruise)

Another addition to the "Something to Talk About"/"One More Night" series. And yes, the title is a subtle reference to "So It Goes..." by TS bc that's the vibe. I hope you all enjoy this as much as me; I have been on that grind

TW- none

Summary- Oscars night finally arrives and you and 90s!Tom make your official debut as a couple. You are overwhelmed by the attention, chaos, and some invasive interview questions, but Tom is there supporting you through it.

At several points over the course of the plane ride home, Tom had to peel Y/N away from the entertainment shows and newspapers. He noticed that she kept trying to check to see what the outlets were saying about them, and it was making her visibly distressed. Each time he would lean toward her, snatching the paper from her hand or switching the television off.

“Honey, this isn’t good for you,” he would say, and she would begin to pout until he took her mind off the subject by bringing her into a kiss instead. “This is a much more productive use of our time. But think of how exciting it’s going to be- we don’t have to sneak around anymore, and I get to show you off at events.” He hit her with a playful, encouraging grin.

“As soon as we get home, I want you to start looking for a dress. I know you’ll pick something incredible.” Y/N perked up somewhat at that idea, toying with the buttons on Tom’s shirt. “It’ll be fun, you’ll get to meet everyone I’ve told you about- Cameron, Renee, Cuba… they’re a really fun group, you’ll like them.”

“Are you sure I look okay?” Y/N whispered, eyebrows furrowed, glancing up at Tom with anxious eyes.

“Are you kidding? No one is even going to notice that I’m there,” he grinned, shaking his head in amusement as he admired her gown. It was a sleek nude dress with a plunging neckline and ruffled, flowy short sleeves, encrusted all over with matching gems. Tom had opted for a classic black tuxedo with slightly elongated, silky lapels.

Tom gave Y/N a last kiss on the forehead, accompanied by a reassuring squeeze of her hand, as the limousine rolled to a stop. They had reached the drop-off point for actors and their plus-ones at the Dolby Theater- the location of the Academy Awards. She sucked in one last deep breath before it was time to exit the vehicle and face the intimidating wave of photographers preparing to descend. Gripping her clutch purse and a fistful of her dress in one hand, Tom took the other in his as he helped her from the limo.

They were immediately surrounded by a claustrophobic perimeter of camera lenses, flashing lights, their accompanying photographers, and other attendees. As Tom guided her along a path through the crowd, it took everything in her to focus on not tripping over her gown at the same time as she was trying to smile for the cameras. Fans in the distance behind a barricade started to scream when Tom came into their view and he waved, smiling broadly. Y/N followed his lead, squeezing his hand in a vise grip. He then caught her off-guard with a kiss to her cheek, bringing a genuine smile to her face as people’s cheers grew louder.

“How about her, huh? Isn’t she something?” Tom called, gesturing to Y/N before they continued on their way inside, waving goodbye to the onlookers.

Before too long, interviewing time commenced. Between briefly circulating the arrivals as Tom introduced her to former coworkers and industry friends, they traveled from television host to host, from the likes of E! News to ABC and CBS. Each interview was fairly similar and went something like this:

A TV host, wearing something resembling a prom dress, would announce them with maniacal enthusiasm after they ascended the stairs to a slightly raised platform on the red carpet.

“Aaaand now we have with us tonight, Tom Cruise! And his wife- Y/N! Now let’s see this ring…” she asked, and Y/N shyly raised her hand into view of the camera, blushing. “Oh my God,” the reporter gushed. “You must feel like a lucky woman.”

“I am,” she replied, trying not to look directly into the camera. “He’s a wonderful guy. I still can't believe any of this is real. And I’m so proud of him tonight, whatever happens.” She referenced his Best Actor nomination.

“Aww… and who is it that you are wearing tonight? You look fabulous,” the reporter gestured dramatically for emphasis.

“I know, isn’t she a knockout?” Tom agreed, squeezing Y/N's waist.

“You two are adorable,” the reporter exclaimed, maintaining the same forceful enthusiasm. “Now, you guys have been very secretive about your relationship; no one even knew you were dating and now you’re married- what is that about?” The interviewer’s voice took on a subtly harder tone as she brought her microphone in closer to her interviewees.

The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and his eyes narrowed, although the charming smile didn’t drop. “I mean, I think I’ve always been a pretty private person. I’ve made it clear that my personal life doesn’t exist for ratings and reviews.”

Y/N looped her arm in his protectively as the host pressed on. “Are you concerned, maybe, about what your exes or the public might think? Y/N, does it bother you that Tom's already been through the motions a couple of times? I mean, when he moves on, he moves on...”

Y/N’s mouth fell open, and her raised eyebrows created a wrinkle on her forehead. Too disoriented to answer, Tom swiftly chimed in.

“Um… well, I don’t know where you heard that because it’s just not true. I’m on good terms with my former partners.” Tom cocked his head to the side, slipping a hand into his pocket as his posture stiffened and his smile faded. “Besides, all of that is in the past, and no one’s business but my own. I love this woman, and she’s my wife. Are we going to talk at all about the movie I’m nominated for?” He made a visible effort to relax his stance and expression.

The rest of the exchange, which was mercifully brief as time ran out and it was the next interviewee’s turn, was almost unbearably awkward as the host returned to softball questions about the experience of working on Jerry Maguire. As they walked away, Tom fumed, and though Y/N’s palms were shaking and sweaty, she was also angry on his behalf.

“You’d think with how much you’ve done for the industry they’d show you some respect,” she muttered when they stopped off to the side of the milling crowds to regain their composure. She softly brushed a runaway strand of his hair back into place, and he grinned sweetly at her, grasping her shoulders and rubbing them.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it. Comes with the territory, unfortunately. But you do know I love you? You know I’m not going anywhere?”

Y/N shook her head and chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Relax. I don’t treat the E! channel like gospel. And you know better than to leave me for someone else anyway. I’d take the cat, and I’d kick your ass.”

Tom laughed. “On the bright side, it’s almost time to sit and eat. I think there’s gonna be cake.”

Y/N made an exaggerated gasp, although genuinely excited by the prospect of a good dessert. “Well, then let’s get on with it; what are we waiting for?”

#tom cruise #tom cruise fic #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise x reader #one shot #creative writing #just for fun #imagine #tom cruise fluff #fluff #x reader #fanfic #self insert #reader insert

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totally-not-deacon · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday, baby!

Tagged by @throughtrialbyfire!! Gonna tag some fresh meat I haven't gotten to yet: let's go with... @watchyourdigits @sassenashsworld aaaand @obscene-beans if ya wanna go.

So I'm at a point where there's a LOT of spoiler-y type stuff, so I had to root around a bit. Fortunately my brain refuses to write in order, so I have a fairly long little draft of a scene between Marasa and Inigo planned for a later chapter! Most'll be under the read more:

I’m sorry, I don’t speak ‘knuckle dragger’. Could you repeat that?” Marasa’s chair slammed into the wall behind her as she shot to her feet. If this son of a bitch thought he could pull that on her…

“Easy, now.” Inigo’s hand came to rest on her arm. She glared up at the now smug-looking Nord in question, before she let herself be pulled away. One more word.

“He’s just some drunk snowback, I could take him down, no problem!” She slurred, easily just as inebriated, while tugging futilely in his grasp. Inigo nodded to Lucien on the way out, sure he’d let the others know where they were off to. So maybe he had a plan in case this happened, even ready to rent rooms elsewhere. They weren’t going to tell her that, of course.

“While I am sure you could, and I might otherwise encourage putting a racist in his place, we are in Windhelm.” He walked them through the crowd and into the frigid night air. “Why don’t we visit that corner club instead, before we end up visiting a cell.”

She deflated, sagging against him. Her breath formed soft clouds in the cold night air. “I hate this city.”

“As do I, but we are only here for the night. These people are not worth sitting in jail over, believe me.” They wound through the ice-slicked alleys, working their way back to the Gray Quarter. Footsteps echoed off the ancient stone walls making up the city, cutting through the silence. He was right, he usually was. He nudged her through the door first, the burst of heat welcome on her chilled skin.

She wasn’t too keen on this Dunmeri alcohol, but she nursed her drink all the same. There wasn’t anything she could think of to say, so she remained silent and scowling at the tabletop.

“How are you doing?”

“I…” The question caught her off guard, eyes meeting his. Her mouth hung open. How was she doing? What she was doing, sure, maybe even why sometimes. She could answer those. But how… “I – I don’t know.”

“You have been through a lot recently. I do not blame you.”

Her frown deepened. How was he always so… understanding? It frustrated her to no end. Just... how did he do it? A tiny part of her wanted to reach out – to crawl from her own throat, thrashing and screaming to the world. She swallowed, feeling it growing.

“It’s just…” She should keep her mouth shut. “A year ago I was just another broke sellsword. Just another someone trying to run from themselves, right? I was alive, but that’s it. I just was. And I was okay with that, I think. But now…” Stop talking.

“Now, what?” He asked gently, encouraging her to finally begin to open up. He knew she needed to, it wasn’t healthy for anyone to bottle their emotions up so, and she was certainly an expert at it.

“I don’t –” She could feel her face heat up, her eyes begin to sting. It didn’t make any sense. Marasa buried her face in her hands. It was ungrateful, undeserving. She wanted it all at arm’s length and a tight embrace. Fingernails bit into her palms. “I don’t know what to do with it all!”

“All I’ve ever done is follow orders.” She continued, her mouth moving before she could think to stop it. “That’s all I’ve ever done – and now this? I’m supposed to be some kind of leader?An icon to a people that would rather see my kind slaughtered wholesale!”

They wanted her to be a hero.

She wasn’t. She never was. “I thought I was getting better. Or at least learning to ignore it…”

“And then…” Her voice wavered. The bite of shackles, the damp stone walls. She rubbed her wrists subconsciously, unable to actually say it aloud. The bruises may have faded, but the wounds inside still lay open and festering. She thought she was going to be sick. “And then everything came back.”

Inigo opened his mouth to respond, but she was on a roll. “But at the same time I have all of you. I have a house – an actual house! I’ve got friends…” More. She choked. “And I don’t feel like I earned a single bit of it.”

I shouldn’t even be here.

“My friend…”

Her voice lowered, alcohol blending the edges of the words together. “Half the reason I don’t go home, y’know. Did you know how proud my father was? When they shipped us off to Auridon… Did you know he congratulated me? Do I look like someone to be proud of? Look at me!”

“It feels like they wanted this, sometimes.” She hugged herself to the point it hurt. “They wanted a hero in the family more than a daughter.”

An arm wrapped around her shoulder, drawing her into a hug. She sighed, letting her head drop froward. “Sorry. Dunno where all that came from…”

“Do not be sorry. Every one deserves to have their voice heard.” Inigo assured her.

“Would you like to know what I see?” Marasa shrugged, no longer trusting her voice. She’d said enough already.

“I don’t see a hero.” Despite her own feelings of the term, it would still somehow sting from anyone else. “And I see that you are very scared. You are scared, and like a cornered animal – sometimes you lash out.”

“Way to cheer a girl up…” she mumbled.

“And I see someone still standing despite it all.” He continued. “I do not see a hero, but I do see a strong, courageous, and incredible friend.”

“So cheesy…” A small smile played on her face and she elbowed him in the side. She sniffed, quickly scrubbing at her eyes.

“No, that would be your pack after visiting the market this morning.”

#wip wednesday #tes #skyrim #skyrim custom followers #inigo the brave #oc marasa #arenthia red #inigo is best bro and you'll never change my mind #my writing

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withclawandvine · 7 months

Text

what we pretend to be, chapter 4

Summary: Azriel was a veteran spy, well suited to the sneaking and solitude that comes with a life in the shadows. He was good at it. He wasn’t good at undercover missions, so he couldn’t hide his shock when new recruit and undercover specialist Elain Archeron was already seated at the conference table, looking beautiful as ever. And then it was dropped on them like a bomb: Azriel and Elain would be sent to the suburbs, posing as a married couple to gather intel on a suspicious man who, according to reports, was in communication with notorious arms dealer, Koschei Sokolov.

Author’s note: aaaand we’re back! and things are finally happening!! i’ve been really excited to share this chapter, which is at least 33% of the reason why it took so long — it just wasn’t living up to my own expectations. BUT i’m feeling pretty good about it now. hopefully we can keep these good vibes going hehe. please enjoy and lemme know what you think!

Tags: SFW, undercover au, fake married, hurt/comfort

Word count: 3.5k

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42105033

prev | start at the beginning

The wheels of the cart were already squealing under the burden of their items, but they couldn’t leave without a coffee maker. The Keurigs were tempting — easy and instantly gratifying. But the coffee the machines produced was mediocre at best, and Elain wouldn’t object to something more sustainable. She picked up a French press and started reading the product description printed on the box. No filters! Easy cleanup! Robust flavor!

“Have you ever used one before?” Azriel asked, peering over her shoulder.

Elain shook her head.

“Then shouldn’t we — ”

“Just trust me,” she interrupted, stiffening a little in surprise as her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She handed Azriel the box and took it out to see that Nuala had finally replied to her text from this morning — an all-caps demand to know if the agent had lost her mind and if she was aware that summer wouldn’t last forever.

Nuala had been in charge of Elain’s wardrobes for all of her previous missions. She’d always been as grateful for her fellow agent’s ability to anticipate her every need as she was mystified by it. Which was how she knew that her vast new collection of satin negligees was no oversight.

Don’t be such a baby. Besides, I’m sure Chazen would be happy to keep you warm (;

Elain’s eyes widened at Nal’s message, and she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder to make sure Azriel was still focused on coffee makers. He caught her eye and smiled as he balanced the French press on top of their mountain of homegoods. She managed a quick flash of her own teeth before turning back to her phone.

Excuse you we are both professionals.

Nuala’s response came through on the way back to the house. Oh come on, E. It’s sooo obvious he’s got a thing for you!!

After deleting the entire thread, Elain peered over at Azriel, looking more relaxed than she’d seen him in days. That much, she could tell. Their first car ride had been all bouncing knees and white knuckles, but now Azriel was leaning back in his seat with one hand draped lazily on the wheel and the other hanging out the window.

But these supposed feelings for her?

She thought about all of her past interactions with Azriel. It didn’t take long; there weren’t all that many, poking the first hole in Nuala’s claim. On the rare occasions they were both at their desks for the day, filling out incident reports and compiling relevant intel for future investigations, they’d often get up to refill their coffee mugs at the same time.

And sometimes, instead of going straight back to their respective corners, they lingered, sipping their drinks and trying to find something to talk about. Most of their work was classified, even amongst fellow agents, and due to the nature of that work, neither of them were particularly inclined to be forthcoming about their personal lives. Their interactions, while pleasant, were thin. And there was nothing to indicate that those few minutes had been significant to Azriel — at least, nothing obvious.

As if he’d felt the weight of her attentions, Azriel turned to look at her. Aside from a slight raise of his brows, his expression was neutral, his hazel eyes unreadable. It was silly to think anything about Azriel could be truly obvious.

***

The kitchen, while a bit too white and sterile-looking for her taste, was a dream. Flooded with natural light, the open space was home to miles of glossy countertops and appliances so sleek, Elain could see her reflection in them. It filled her with a sort of giddiness as she opened the double-door fridge and started lining its empty compartments with bottles and jars.

In that aspect, it wasn’t all that different from the little fridge in the apartment she kept in the city. Leased under the name Sarah Gardiner, the rickety studio had no personal affects, no air conditioning, and nothing in the fridge besides black olives and hot sauce. Nothing fresh, lest she get sent to the other side of the country, gathering intel while her broccoli and blackberries molded.

But now, a rainbow of produce covered the island, and Elain fell into an easy rhythm of washing and chopping and lining it up in neat rows on the shelves. Leafy greens and berries went into containers lined with paper towels, carrots were peeled then submerged in jars of fresh water.

While she worked, Azriel busied himself with organizing the spice rack, seemingly in alphabetical order. Elain couldn’t help but smile to herself as she glanced over to see him holding up two little bottles, squinting thoughtfully at the labels. By the time the sun set, the fridge looked like it belonged to a lifestyle vlogger, the pantry was stocked, the French press was washed and ready for tomorrow morning, and the cardboard boxes from yesterday had been broken down.

While Azriel took them outside to be picked up for recycling, Elain started setting out ingredients. First thing tomorrow morning, she’d bake and box up a batch of cookies to hand deliver to their immediate neighbors, offering baked goods and an unassuming smile in exchange for their trust. Putting faces to the names in their briefings.

“The couple right across from us kept staring at me,” Azriel said as soon as the garage door was shut behind him. “They probably think we’re up to something already, just because of how fast we finished unpacking.”

“How fast you finished unpacking.”

When Elain woke up, the sun was only just beginning its ascent, but Azriel had already unloaded and organized all of their surveillance equipment in the home office, and was in the process of arranging decorative candles on the sofa table.

“I don’t normally go to sleep as early as we did last night.”

Elain wasn’t sure she’d consider midnight early. Especially not for someone who also claimed to be a morning person. Although not even she made a habit of being up hours before the sun. But when she pointed this out, Azriel only shrugged, “I guess I’m both.”

“I think that just makes you an insomniac,” she said, half-teasing.

“Maybe.” His lips quirked in a small, rueful smile. He nodded to the stick of plant butter still in her hand, “Do you want any help?”

Elain hesitated. Until now, she had no intention of doing anything but showering and going to bed. She was exhausted, and while she would’ve liked to prep the dough and let it chill overnight, she — unlike Azriel, apparently — needed more than four hours of sleep to function.

He was still looking at her, waiting for an answer with a self-conscious hand curled around the back of his neck. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll actually be, but —”

“You can chop up the chocolate.”

Elain had been following the same vegan chocolate chip cookie recipe since she learned how to use the oven. By now, each step and measurement was engrained in her memory. She whisked the melted plant butter in with the sugars and added vanilla until it felt right.

The rest of the kitchen darkened with the sky, but instead of turning on the overhead light, Azriel kept close, so both of them were haloed by the yellow glow of the stovelight. His elbow occasionally bumped into hers as he neatly worked the knife through each bar of dark chocolate at a diagonal, just as Elain had instructed.

When the final cup of flour made the dough stiff and heavy, Azriel took over. Elain couldn’t stop noticing the muscles in his arm flexing as he folded in the chocolate chunks.

Azriel was distracted as he helped Elain with the dishes, stopping more than once to stare with what could only be described as lustful eyes at the oven. It only got worse as the aroma of melted chocolate and warm sugar got stronger.

He couldn’t remember the last chocolate chip cookie he’d had, the milk chocolate and butter in most others was enough to make his stomach revolt.

Elain winced. “It’s really that bad?”

“If I was going to lie to you, I would’ve gone with something sexier than gastrointestinal issues.”

She nodded sagely, “Like astigmatism.”

“Exactly.”

When Elain bit into a cookie, it was still delicate with pools of chocolate on the surface. It tasted of comfort and nostalgia — like swatting at Feyre’s hand when she tried to stick her fingers in the dough and late nights with Nesta. Azriel ate his in nearly a single bite, with an indulgent hum that made Elain grateful for the low light.

Especially now that he was looking down at her, gaze steady and contemplative. She waited for him to say something, but he was quiet as he lifted his hand. Elain felt his warmth against her skin, his knuckles nudging her cheek as his thumb smoothed over the corner of her mouth.

“You’ve got some schmutz,” he murmured.

His touch had been slow, but he withdrew his hand quickly, eyes darting around the kitchen before landing determinedly on something beyond her left shoulder. Elain might have mistaken it for embarrassment, if his eyes hadn’t narrowed with suspicion. She turned around, following his gaze through the living room window to see Lynn Forth stepping alone off the Sokolov’s driveway and into the quiet street, an empty casserole dish in hand.

“It’s a bit weird to be picking up a casserole dish at this time, don’t you think?” Azriel mused.

Maybe. Lynn might’ve gone over hours ago, then got to chatting and lost track of time.

“We’re baking cookies at this time.”

“We’re weird.”

She grinned. “And vaguely off-putting.”

***

Azriel and Elain had been on their way to the house right across from theirs to deliver a box of Elain’s cookies and make formal introductions when Lynn stopped them in their driveway. Nobody else had showed up on their doorstep since their arrival. They still hadn’t decided if that was strange, if it made the Forths suspicious or simply over-eager.

As she presented Lynn with the box, Elain lied smoothly that the cookies had been for her and Brian to thank them for the welcome basket, as if there weren’t four identical containers waiting on their counter for the next delivery.

Lynn said she’d just been heading over to invite them to a welcome party at her house on Saturday. As she chattered about the woes of party planning and all the cleaning she still had to do before the day, Lynn took a bite of one of the cookies. She joked that they ought to make some more to bring to the party — they’d be a hit!

Elain’s eyes had flickered to Azriel to find that was already looking at her, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Now, standing in the threshold of the Forth’s home, Elain held up a container of only slightly-stale cookies in a tupperware. “Can I put these in the kitchen?”

“Of course! Everything’s out on the island.” Lynn said. Then, lowering her voice into a mock-whisper, added, “But feel free to stash those in a cabinet.”

As she moved past Azriel, she ran her hand down his arm, pausing to squeeze his elbow. A fortifying gesture before she left him alone with the neighbors.

Elain didn’t hide the cookies, but she took her time poking around for a different hiding place. When Azriel circled back later with the recording devices, he’d give her one to leave somewhere in the kitchen.

Aside from the abundance of hotdishes and slow-cookers that would get swept up by the masses at the end of the night, the kitchen was pristine; no grease splattered the stovetop, a crumbless floor. The usual nooks and crannies weren’t dusty enough for her liking.

At least, the ones she could see. There was a small gap between the top of the fridge and the cabinets above it, too high and dark for Elain to assess its cleanliness. With a glance over her shoulder to make sure she was still alone, she pushed up on her toes and reached into the crevice, her fingertips dragging over the cool metal as she fell back onto her heels.

The pads of her fingers were filmed with dust. She brushed them off on her pants as she made her way into the living room, where Azriel was already sitting on the sofa, a proprietary hand on the cushion next to him.

It was impossible to discern whether or not Azriel was playing up his discomfort for the sake of their plan. While Elain fielded questions about her supposed grad program, and why she chose the small liberal arts school nearby instead of staying in the city, he sat silently beside her. The strain in his eyes and grimacing mouth seemed very, very real.

“And we’re hoping to start a family soon,” Elain continued, reaching for the hand Azriel had rested on her knee and weaving their fingers together. “This just felt like the right place to do it!”

The chorus of awws and predictions about how lovely their children would be turned into advice and their own experiences — the school was wonderful, there were a plethora of after-school clubs, the cul-de-sac was perfect for street hockey.

“Though ever since the Weavers and the Carvers grew up, there haven’t been many little ones running around.” The voice coming from across the room was wistful.

Another lamented, “It’s been so quiet.”

“I really thought the Galkins would have at least one baby by now,” someone else chimed in.

She felt the arm around her back tense, the only indication Azriel was listening at all. His face was still masked with malaise.

“Oh, I don’t think we’ve met them yet.” Elain said tilting her head thoughtfully, as if she were trying to put faces to the name.

Lynn shook her head, “You wouldn’t have. Poor Lisa’s been sick all week. I stopped over a few days ago to invite them tonight, and ended up fixing a pot of my chicken soup instead.”

That could explain the late-night visit. She wanted to know what Azriel thought about it, but when she turned to face her partner, Elain only made her brows wrinkle with concern. “You alright, baby?”

He gestured vaguely to his head. “I think I feel a migraine coming on.”

Her thumb smoothed over the delicate skin below his eye, where any real pain would’ve been concentrated. “Should we go?”

Azriel shook his head gingerly, the movement nudging his face into the cradle of her hand. “You stay. I’ll be alright.”

His message came halfway through a discussion about the grass-free landscaping project Demetra and her wife were planning for next year — the first and only stimulating conversation of the evening.

Did we finish unpacking all the bathroom stuff? Can’t find the Tylenol anywhere.

Sensing someone peering over her shoulder, Elain loosed a chagrined sigh, “I better call him,” and stepped into the hallway. Azriel had been scouting the house from the outside the past few nights, but his description of where the bedroom was made less sense from the inside, so she opened the door to a half-bath and the basement before finding the right one.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she slipped into the quiet Brian and Lynn’s bedroom.

Even though she’d been expecting to see him, Elain startled at Azriel’s shadow-cloaked frame looming on Brian and Lynn’s patio, a backpack on his shoulder. She unlatched the door and he stepped in, wearing an almost boyish grin. “Hope you’re not having too much fun without me.”

Unlike the kitchen, it was easy to decide where in the bedroom to plant the recording device. A stately, and more importantly, heavy-looking headboard dominated most of the far wall. Nobody would be moving it any time soon.

Elain had to crawl under the bed to stick the bug to the back of the headboard. She wiggled back out, flushed from the effort and Azriel’s bemused expression as he helped her back to her feet. He waited patiently for her to tug her shirt back down and run her fingers through her mussed hair before handing her the second device.

Just as she was slipping it into her pocket, she heard a voice from the hallway, “... so sorry. I keep telling him to put his damn drink down if he’s got something to say.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lynn responded, much louder than the first voice. “Just wait, as soon as this little machine does it’s thing, it’ll be like it never happened.”

Elain barely had time to usher Azriel into the closet and shut the door behind them before Lynn and the other woman, Trina from down the street, entered the room. In the near-dark, Elain could just make out the rows of clothes hanging around them, and a small shelf neatly displaying a collection of handbags and sunglasses. Elain could almost sigh with relief; unless somebody had also gotten a drink spilled down their shirt, the odds of Lynn opening this closet were slim.

The only way to hear all of what was being said would be to press her ear to the door, and shuffling around to do so was not a risk Elain was willing to take. Though the few things she could make out — Bissel, works wonders, eggshell, he says it’s because he’s Sicilian! — didn’t make her feel like she was missing anything important. Anxiety danced down Elain’s spine and Azriel was practically vibrating with tension; he was standing so close she could feel the disturbance in the air around him.

Within seconds of Elain realizing that Azriel was not just tense, but trembling, the rapid, shallow breathing started. He clamped a hand over his mouth, knowing the importance of staying quiet. Cast perfectly in the sliver of light streaming in from the bedroom, Elain could see that his pupils were blown wide with panic.

She remembered the car, the bashful hand scrubbing the back of his neck. And I don’t really do great in tight spaces.

In the moment, his confession had conjured imaginings of clammy hands and nervous lip-biting — not this.

It took Elain a second to gather her wits; the anguish in his eyes was paralyzing. She couldn’t think, only stare back. And she was sure the expression swirling in her own eyes was far from reassuring.

She knew that reaching for someone on the cusp of a panic attack was uncouth at best, and at worst, like trying to douse embers with accelerant. But she also knew there were still soft voices coming from the other side of the door, and that Azriel was showing no signs of improvement. She needed to do something. Deep pressure could relieve anxiety… or so she’d read once.

Elain wrapped her arms around Azriel’s body and squeezed.

He went completely rigid, even his desperate breathing came to a halt for one stunned beat. And when he didn’t shove her away, Elain tightened her hold, putting all of her strength into it. His next breath didn’t seem so hard-won. She breathed with him, counting in her head as she went — one, two, three, four seconds in. Hold. Exhale slowly through the nose all the way to eight, tapping each second out with her index finger so Azriel could count with her.

Gradually, his chest fell into the same rhythm as hers, rising and falling slowly, and the hand Azriel had been using to smother himself moved, curling tightly around Elain’s shoulder, pinning her body to him with his forearm. Her own arms trembled with the strain of holding him together. She listened to his heart slow down instead of the low hum of Lynn and Trina’s voices. She didn’t even notice it fading out, or the click of the bedroom door.

All of her attention was on the hand that had gripped her shoulder, now sliding up to hold the back of her neck, the pressure gentle and warm. Azriel’s thumb worried over her pulsepoint, his gaze heavy. Elain stared back, trying to decipher the storm swirling in his eyes — dread and shame, and something else. Something deep and private and tender.

He blinked slowly, deliberately. And when his eyes opened again, it was gone, and he was focused only on the small gap in the door.

“It’s clear,” he whispered, his hand moving down her back, settling at the dip in her spine and using its new position to guide her into the open air of the Forth’s bedroom. Azriel still moved like a man trapped, his steps small and his shoulders stiff as he made his way to the balcony.

Elain watched his hands — scarred, and steady at last — carry him down the rope. When he hit the grass with a dull thud, she freed the grappling hook from the wrought iron and let it fall at his feet. The din of the party could be heard from outside, but Elain still kept her voice to a whisper, “I’ll see you back at the house.”

Azriel nodded once before melting into the night.

#i really was starting to think i'd never get this written #elriel #elriel fanfiction #what we pretend to be #my writing

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