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breakyeol · 3 years

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— WHAT HE LOST

So you got dumped. It sucks, but hey, at least you’ve got your best friends who always seem know exactly what to do to help make you feel better.

┗ Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: friends to lovers au, angst, fluff, smut

Words: 12.8k (I wish I was kidding)

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, drinking, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, explicit sexual content ; dom(?)baekhyun, switch sub!chanyeol, switch!reader, their roles ended up being very blurred, you’re the bologna in a chanbaek sandwich, threesome, very mild dirty talk, teasing, oral (f. & m. receiving), gentle throat fucking, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, squirting, yeol just wants to be a good boy but baek just wants to break the headboard

A/N; the poll I did for this fanfic was so fun!!! I seriously love interacted with you guys and receiving your feedback! I definitely think it’s something I’d like to do again in the future! I hope you guys enjoy the results! PS, I low key suck at writing endings sorry loves.

It’s half past two when you show up in front of their door, clothes soaked and heavy from the rain you hadn’t bothered to shield yourself from, heart bruised and aching from the ruthless beat down it had been forced to endure. It’s been a really long night.

Chanyeol is the one to finally open the door, face flushed and swollen, pink lips dry and pouted, dark hair unruly and disheveled with a ridiculous cowlick you would find incredibly amusing if not for the crushing weight of the night’s previous events still weighing heavily on your chest.

“Y/n?” He rasps, blinking hard twice, as if he hadn’t recognized you at first. You wouldn’t hold it against him, you probably look like a drowned rat in your current state.

A shaky grin pulls at your lips, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Hey, Yeol.”

His brows furrow and he swipes a large hand down the length of his face. “What time is it? What– what are you doing here?” There’s no malice in the question, only drowsy confusion as he tries to put the puzzle pieces together in his sleep hazed mind.

Instead of answering, you tip your chin forward and ask one of your own. “Mind if I come in? It feels like my fingers are about to fall off.”

All of a sudden his eyes pop open real wide and he gasps, as if just then realizing that you were standing outside his door in the freezing night air, drenched to the bone. He immediately ushers you inside, appearing genuinely distraught. “Jesus, you’re soaked. Did you walk here or something?”

Combing your wet hair out of your face, you offer a blunt nod of confirmation. “Yup.”

His jaw drops and he splutters in disbelief. “You walked here? In the pouring rain? Are you insane?! It’s the middle of the night! Something terrible could have happened to you! And you’re not even wearing a coat!” He gestures wildly at your waterlogged t-shirt and jeans, all drowsiness gone from his eyes.

“I’m fine, Chanyeol.” You sigh, moving past him and into the warmth of his apartment.

“Y/n, that really wasn’t smart. You should’ve called me.” He insists in that disapproving tone that reminds you of a parent scolding a petulant child.

You turn to him with raised brows, the vague outline of amusement tinging your words, “Would you have woken up?”

“You should’ve called until I did,” he shoots back without missing a beat, following close on your heel as you make your way into the living room and fall onto the couch with a soft grunt, “or you could’ve tried Baekhyun. Or literally done anything other than walk all the way here in the middle of the night in the pouring rain.”

He’s right, of course. It was dangerous walking alone at night, no matter how tough you think you are, bad things can happen to anyone. But the danger of walking the streets at night hadn’t been so much as a second thought when you left. There were far more prominent concerns plaguing your mind.

“Yeah, well.”

A beat of silence passes, and you feel the shift in Chanyeol’s gaze. You don’t dare to look over as he sinks into the space on the couch beside you, though all you really want is to lean into the comforting warmth of his body.

“Hey... are you alright?”

A painful lump forms in your throat at the question. “I—” you wince as your voice cracks, words falling dead on the tip of your tongue. Fuck. Why was it so hard to say?

“Y/n?”

The way he says your name nearly shatters the dam, and you just barely manage to pull yourself together enough to avoid turning into a sobbing mess on his couch. Snagging your lower lip roughly between your teeth, you offer a weak hum that pitches strangely in your throat– which most definitely does not go unnoticed by the boy who knows you too well for your own good.

Chanyeol’s concerned eyes sweep over your expression, those damn eyes that can see right through any mask you attempt to wear, before he speaks again in a voice so soft you could feel the steely grip around your heart ease. “Let me get you something dry to wear. Then we can make some hot cocoa and you can tell me what happened, okay?”

The idea of being dry and warm again was more than appealing enough for you to force the corners of your lips upward and manage a light nod of agreement. “Yeah.”

He shoots you a sweet smile, reaching over with a large hand to affectionately ruffle your wet hair and pushing himself off of the couch before you can retaliate. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move, I don’t need you and all your drippiness flooding the apartment. I’m pretty sure you’ve already ruined our new couch.” He teases lightheartedly, that familiar bubbling laughter erupting from his lips as you swing your middle finger up at him.

You feel yourself deflate somewhat when he vanishes into his bedroom, leaving you alone once more. It was unusually quiet. Though understandable given the time, you aren’t used to the silence of the apartment and find yourself craving Chanyeol’s booming voice and Baekhyun’s obnoxious teasing. Without them, there’s nothing to distract your scrambled mind, and you can’t stop it from lingering on the frustration and sense of betrayal that torments your heart. Squeezing your eyes shut, you sink into the plush cushions, a soft groan escaping your tensed lips.

This. Sucks.

Luckily, you aren’t alone long enough to dwell on it too deeply.

Your head snaps up at the sound of a door thudding shut, a murmur of gratitude on the tip of your tongue, but you are surprised to see a very much still half asleep Baekhyun come stumbling into the living room, donning a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tight white t-shirt that hugs the gentle swells of his chest. His eyes are barely open as he all but throws himself onto the couch, immediately curling up into your side. You only chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his cinnamon scented hair and petting down his unruly bed head as it tickles your chin.

“You’re wet.” Is the first thing he murmurs into the silence, voice thick and hoarse in his throat. You can’t suppress the shiver that ripples down the length of your spine as his warm breath washes over your icy skin, the sharp contrast in temperature startling to your senses.

“I didn’t notice.” You hum, resting your cheek against the top of his head.

“And cold.” He grumbles additionally, arms coiling tightly around the curve of your waist and tugging you flush against him. The heat of his body is more than welcome, and you’re happy to allow him to cuddle into you. It’s easy to find comfort in his familiar embrace.

“Chanyeol is getting me something else to wear.”

His head tips back at that, and you have to draw away to keep your noses from colliding. Hooded eyes drag slowly over your face, warm and searching. You swallow nervously under the intensity of his scrutinizing gaze and quickly turn away, hoping he hadn’t seen the tell tale signs of your internal turmoil. But it seems both of your best friends are more observant than you give them credit for.

You jolt in surprise as he suddenly grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to face him again. The unexpected proximity has warmth rushing into your cheeks, and you clear your throat, eyes looking anywhere but his face. Nonetheless he still manages to read you like the pages of a children’s book.

“You’ve been crying.”

Instinctively, you try to put some distance between you and him, swatting his hand away and plastering an unconvincing scowl across your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His lips part, and you brace yourself, knowing by the look on his face alone that he’s going to push the matter.

“Ah, Baekhyun, you’re awake.” You let out a breath of relief as Chanyeol steps out of his room, a set of black sweats and a towel draped over his arm. Perfect timing. Baekhyun nearly topples over as you jump up from the couch, quickly making your way over to where the younger boy stands. “Y/n, I got y—”

“Thanks, I’ll go change.” You rush out, cutting him off abruptly as you pull the clothes from his arms. You manage a quick smile of gratitude before you’re hurrying past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door more harshly than you intended behind you.

Very subtle, y/n.

“Fuck.” You hiss through clenched teeth, silently cursing yourself out.

Moving towards the sink, you stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror with a weak grimace. You knew you looked like a mess but damn. You really look like you’ve been put through the wringer tonight. Which, of course, you kind of had been, but still.

It takes longer than you anticipated to wriggle yourself out of your wet clothes, nearly falling on your ass more times than you care to admit out loud in your numerous attempts to peel off your jeans. But in the end, it was more than worth it to feel the soft, warm fabric of Chanyeol’s oversized clothes against your skin. The faded scent of his aftershave eases the tension in your shoulders, but you can’t fight the buzz of nerves that come to life in your stomach as you step back out the door.

The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate is the first thing to greet you upon your return. Noting the emptiness of the living room, you come to the quick conclusion that they’re both most likely in the kitchen. On quiet feet, you shuffle over to the entrance, peeking your head around the wall. They’re facing away from you, leaning against the island and exchanging whispered words, voices just low enough that you can’t make out what they’re saying. Though, there’s little doubt in your mind that you’re the subject of their heated conversation.

Deciding to make your presence known, you clear your throat and step onto the cool tile. Two heads whip in your direction, startled. The looks on either of their faces makes you think of two children being caught doing something they definitely should not be. Exactly... what had they been talking about?

Chanyeol is the first to move, plucking up the mug from the countertop and making his way over to you. “Extra marshmallows and extra whipped cream with a pinch of cinnamon,” he says, a soft smile on his lips and a warm blush on his cheeks, “just how you like it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, grateful for the warmth of the smooth white ceramic against your palms. “Thanks, yeol.”

“Let’s sit!” Baekhyun exclaims before you can even take a sip, hands finding your shoulders and steering you back towards the couch. You’re too focused on not spilling the contents of your cup to make any sort of objection.

It’s only when squeezed between their two bodies on their slightly too small couch, their concerned but curious eyes burning into the sides of your face, that you begin to wonder if it was the wisest idea to come here. But then remember just how badly you were craving a good hug and sigh, knowing if anyone was gonna give you one, it’d be one of these two dopey boys.

It’s obvious neither of them are going to speak first, probably not wanting to push you incase you weren’t ready to talk about it yet (though, the intensity of their stares were doing just that), so you decide to take the initiative before the awkward tension can get even more unbearable.

“We broke up.”

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a tentative sip of your gradually cooling hot chocolate as you allow them to absorb the new information.

“Well, shit.” Baekhyun coughs. Chanyeol reaches behind you to smack the back of his head, hissing something about being insensitive but you’re already more than aware of how they feel about your boyfriend— ex-boyfriend.

Since you first started talking to him, neither of the boys were his biggest fan. To their credit, they tried their best to be supportive, but it was hard to miss the dampening of the mood whenever you brought him up and the glares they’d shoot in his direction when they thought you weren’t paying attention. You called them out on their passive aggressive behavior on a number of occasions, and they were always quick to defend themselves with the claim of getting ‘bad vibes’.

Looking back, you probably should’ve given their suspicions some deeper consideration.

But you had just liked him so much. It was hard for you to see past the handsome, charming exterior to what really laid beneath. Gilded boys had always been your weakness, always enchanting you with the prettiest of lies only to shatter you with their ugly truths.

You should have known better.

“Are you alright?”

You shrug, sucking your lower lip into your mouth with a heavy exhale from your nose. “I’m fine, really. I’m just... embarrassed, I guess.”

Baekhyun blinks at you in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why are you embarrassed? He should be the embarrassed one for losing someone as amazing as you.”

“I’m embarrassed because—” you wince, bracing yourself for the response that you just know you’re about to receive, “because he dumped me.”

“What?!” Chanyeol erupts, nearly making you spill your hot cocoa from the sheer explosiveness of his reaction, “you let that literal piece of walking human trash—!”

“Chanyeol.”

At Baekhyun’s sharp interruption, the emotional younger immediately slumps, guilt painting his face as he looks at you with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You only smile, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“So,” Baekhyun begins cautiously, “what happened?”

No point beating around the bush now. “We were hanging out at his place. I found a pair of underwear that weren’t mine in his bedroom. Confronted him. He called me a clingy bitch and told me to get the fuck out and never come back.” You say this as nonchalantly as you can manage, but your hold on the cup tightens substantially and an unmistakable thickness rises in your throat. You curse yourself silently for feeling like shit over a guy who obviously couldn’t be bothered to give even half a shit about you.

“He cheated on you?” Chanyeol leaps up from the couch, eyes wide and furious. If you were to look close enough, you were almost certain you’d see fire burning within them.

“That fucker.” Baekhyun all but snarls, hands balling into tight fists. “What’s his address?”

“Baekhyun—” you sigh, leaning forward to set your hot chocolate down on the coffee table.

“No, I’m dead serious, what’s his address?” He pins you with a look that tells you he is very much not messing around. They were being ridiculous, angry over things they couldn’t change. It was pointless and harmful to dwell on things that had already happened. You’d much rather pick yourself up and move on than allow yourself to keep hurting over a stupid boy.

Of course, that’s easier said than done. And your best friends are not the types to just let things go. Not when the people they care about are wronged.

Chanyeol seems to be off in his own little world, ranting furiously to himself while cracking his knuckles in a way that is probably meant to be intimidating (though, to you, the giant puppy is anything but). “There’s no way I’m letting a piece of shit like him get away with this. God, I knew he was a scumbag the moment I laid eyes in him. I should’ve—”

“Guys, please.” Your voice cracks when you finally intervene, and that’s all it takes for their immediate anger to fizzle out.

The tension in their shoulders melts, their features softening drastically as they spot the glistening of tears in your eyes despite your feeble attempts to blink them away. In an instant, they’re cuddling back up against you, murmuring soft apologies and pleading for you not to cry over someone like him. But the dam is already broken, and salty tears are swelling up in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Everything you’d been holding back comes bubbling violently towards the surface. Sobs wrack your chest, and you cling onto the hands of either boy as they watch you helplessly.

Chanyeol, the big softie that he is, has to bite his lip to keep the tears threatening to swell in his own eyes at bay. He’s never been good at holding himself together when he sees you hurting. He feels everything with his entire being, his empathy for his friends and the people he cares about on another level. But that big, stupid heart of his is one of the many reasons you adore him.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, is not the most suave when it comes to comforting people. Most of the time he’ll try to crack jokes and make light of the situation, but he knew better than to break out his usual antics when you were in such a state. So he held his tongue, opting to wrap his hand around yours in hopes of comforting you in even the slightest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You groan once your sobs subside into sniffles and you feel the warm flush of embarrassment filtering into your cheeks at your own outburst. You really hated crying in front of people. So it wasn’t too often that your friends, or anybody for that matter, saw such a raw display from you. “It’s just so frustrating and humiliating, you know?”

There’s a moment of silence as you wipe the tears from your face with the hand not held in a death grip by Baekhyun. It’s the nice kind of silence though, the kind you don’t have to fill and don’t really want to, encasing the three of you in a little bubble of comfort. Of course, with these two, you can’t expect it to last long.

“If I ever see him again,” Chanyeol huffs, dropping his chin onto your shoulder, “it’s on sight.”

You laugh at that, the sound hoarse and nasally and just plain awful, but genuine nonetheless. Raising a hand, you comb it through his soft black locks in a show of gratitude.

“Baek?” You turn to him with a sniffle. He hums softly in acknowledgement, tracing comforting circles against the top of your hand. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“What? Is my hot cocoa not good enough for you?” He teases light-heartedly and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“It’s delicious. But I was thinking of something… a little stronger.”

A mischievous grin upturns the corners of his lips as he realizes what you’re suggesting. “I’ve got just what you need.”

“You know what, FUCK MEN. They’re all stupid. Who needs ‘em? Not me.”

“Yeah men are assholes!” Baekhyun agrees loudly, thrusting his empty shot glass in the air, before pausing and reconsidering his words. “Wait, I’m a man.”

“You and Yeol are the only exceptions.” You reassure, slapping your hand down on his shoulder. He grins widely at that, satisfied. “But every other man— they can all suck my dick,” you continue your tirade, swinging your hands around animatedly, “they’re all liars and cheats and idiots and I’ve had enough of they’re bullshit to last three lifetimes.”

Chanyeol giggles softly from where he’s situated on the floor between your legs which are draped lazily over either of his broad shoulders, his head resting on your thigh, obviously amused by your tipsy antics.

The first shot went down hard, more bitter than your resentment for your piece of shit ex-boyfriend. The second soothed the ache in your chest and allowed for the tension in your muscles to gradually ebb away. And the third? Well, you opted to take your time sipping on that one, not wanting to completely lose yourself in the intoxicating buzz.

You were never the biggest drinker, but sometimes a few shots of something a little stronger than beer helps take the edge off. Right now seems as good a time as any for some liquid courage.

“You wanna know the worst part?”

However, one of the biggest reasons you erred on the side of caution around alcohol was because you had a tendency to spill things that didn’t necessarily need to be exposed. Especially not to your tipsy best friends at three in the morning when emotions ran high and couldn’t be easily stifled.

“What?” Baekhyun leans closer, eyes wide and burning with curiosity at the sudden somberness of your voice. Chanyeol tilts his head back at the shift in tone, looking up at you through dark lashes.

“In the three years we were together,” the two boys strain their ears as your voice drops into a careful whisper, as if someone other than them was around to hear the secret you hadn’t dared to share with a single soul up until this point, “he only ate me out once.”

For a moment, you think the disbelief that flashes across their faces is because you’ve brought up something of a sexual nature. But that thought is quickly squashed.

“Once? In three years? Is he insane?!”

“Shows what kind of man he really is.” Baekhyun scoffs, clicking his tongue. “Did you go down on him?”

You nod in reluctant confirmation, still sober enough to feel the slightest pinch of shame at your admission.

“That’s not how it works! Sex is about give and take, balance,” Chanyeol enunciates the word carefully, and you can’t help the upward twitch of your lips at the seriousness of his expression and the passion behind his words, “You can’t just receive without giving anything back!”

“He said he didn’t like it. And he only did it that one time because we fought on my birthday two years ago and he felt bad.” You explain, pouting heavily as you recall all the times he refused to go down on you.

Baekhyun blanches, jaw dropping. “You haven’t been eaten out in two years? Oh, baby...” you can feel the empathy rolling off of them in thick waves as they allow the new information to really sink in.

“I know, I know! Please don’t make me think about it anymore.” You whine distraughtly, rubbing your hands roughly down your face as frustration and annoyance bubble up inside of you. “I’m already pent up enough as is. That selfish bastard— he couldn’t even make up for it with his stupid dick either. He was all talk when it came to things like that. He only ever cared about getting himself off. It didn’t matter if I felt good as long as he could get his dick wet. What bullshit! Do you even know how many orgasms I had to fake?!”

Everything you’d kept inside comes exploding out of you in a rush of fiery passion, refusing to remain bottled up for even a moment longer. But of course, the moment it’s out and unable to be taken back, you regret saying anything about it at all. Red hot embarrassment floods your senses and you sink in on yourself, slapping a hand over your offending lips.

Damnit. You really shouldn’t have taken that third shot.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. That was— I shouldn’t have—” you attempt to backtrack, mouth twisted into a grimace.

There’s an exchange of glances that you don’t see, too wrapped up in your own humiliation to notice.

Then, a gentle hand slides over your thigh and you jolt in surprise, head snapping up to find a very serious Baekhyun looking back at you. You’d never seen this kind of expression on his face before. It was different then his usual playful grin or teasing smirk. Darker, somehow... dangerous. Like he was looking right through you and seeing everything you’d kept so carefully bottled up inside. It incites within you a vulnerability you had long forgotten.

“When was the last time you came?”

The question catches you off guard, to say the very least.

“Shit, i-it’s not like I keep track.” You laugh weakly, trying not to focus on the warmth seeping into your lower belly or the proximity of their bodies. But then his fingers are feathering over the curve of your knee and your heart is picking up speed and you’re left wondering at which point this conversation took such a turn.

Between your legs, Chanyeol shifts and your gaze snap down just in time to see him turn to face you fully, something dark and unfamiliar stirring within those big brown eyes. On instinct, you try to close your legs, but the sheer largeness of his body nestled comfortably between them prevents you from doing anything of the sort.

There’s no ignoring the rush of heat that ignites in your core, the closeness too much for your body to process all at once, only fueled by the long neglected desire for some kind of release.

And the fact that all he needed to do was get just a little bit closer—

But those are most definitely not the types of thoughts you should be having about your best friends. No matter how attractive they are. No matter how good Baekhyun’s pretty hand feels, slowly edging it’s way higher and higher up your thigh. No matter how cute the look on Chanyeol’s face is, a searing blush turning his full cheeks a fiery shade of red that easily consumes the entirety of his handsome face.

Fuck. Why was he looking at you like that?

“Y/n…”

Oh god. Why did your name have to sound like that coming from his lips?

Baekhyun’s fingers find your chin, gently coaxing your attention away from the man kneeling before you and back onto him. Your breathing has become shallow and fast, the insufficient amount of oxygen making you feel somewhat lightheaded. But the sensation is not a wholly unwelcome one. Not when his own smooth, liquor stained breath is like ambrosia on your tongue— heavy and rich and dangerously tempting.

“That piece of shit couldn’t make you feel good, could he?”

“No.” You swallow around the word, willing your treacherous eyes away from the entrancing curve of his pink mouth.

“No…” he repeats softly, tracing his thumb lightly over the flesh of your lower lip, “but I can— we can.” He lowers his gaze, tempting yours to follow as he ticks a brow at the younger boy. “… can’t we, Chanyeol?”

“Yes.” Chanyeol breathes without a moment’s hesitation, nuzzling his nose against the inside of your knee, warm fingertips teasing the cool skin of your ankles before he’s quickly amending, “if it’s what you want.”

Baekhyun’s lips feather over the shell of your burning ear and you feel consumed.

“Do you want it?”

“This is crazy.” It’s a deliberate avoidance of the question and you both know it.

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip curling into a teasing little grin that makes you feel like he can read your mind. “Is it?”

Yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue. But you would be a dirty, filthy liar if you said it had never crossed your mind.

The thought of you and them.

Usually one... sometimes both.

But those had just been fleeting fantasies when nothing else could satiate the unrelenting heat in your belly, shameful fantasies that, for the most part, you kept locked up tight in the furthest corner of your mind and only let out at the darkest hour of the night, when the midnight winds carried away the trembling breaths of their names, a whispered secret shared only between you and the moon. Only then would you dare to bask in their phantom caresses, allow your mind to conjure up images of their faces, twisted in beautiful bliss.

It was a dangerous game you played, but god, it felt too good to be wrong.

Or maybe that was just you trying to rationalize getting off to the thought of your best friends.

After a few moments of you grappling for the right words, Baekhyun tentatively intervenes with the thick, tension-filled silence that had encased the space around you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. No pressure from us, sweetheart. I understand two at once can be a bit... intimidating.”

Though he started out in a tone that suggested reassurance and understanding, that last phrase, donning an underlying pitch of provocation, gives you pause.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think I could handle the two of you?” There’s a low scoff to your words, a spark of competitiveness that only Byun Baekhyun himself could draw out of you igniting in your stomach.

He smiles at you innocently, walking two fingers up the length of your thigh. “Not at all.” Something about the glint in his eye tells you that that is exactly what he was suggesting.

A light pout touches your lips and you lower your gaze to the man on the floor. “Chanyeol?”

You don’t need to elaborate for him to understand what you’re asking, that familiar boyish grin curling across his face as he props his chin on top of your knee.

“I think you could handle me just fine.”

A shiver ricochets down your spine at the divine way the words drip from his lips, thick and honey like, sensual in their suggestive nature. You hold his burning stare for a few moments longer than you probably should have, feeling yourself slowly being devoured by the dark, ravenous hunger that swirls within it. This was a fire you were not accustomed to seeing ablaze in Chanyeol. You were used to the fire of his competitiveness, the searing flame of his imperishable passion.

But this— this was something new all together.

If you were to touch him, you wonder if you would be able to feel the savage heat of it against your fingertips.

At your sides, your hands itch to find out. But a gentle tug at the string of your- er, Chanyeol’s sweatpants pulls your mind away from that specific thought. You can’t help the shaky gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of Baekhyun’s hands hovering dangerously close to your heat. You can only watch, melting into a puddle of pure need as he twirls the string nonchalantly around his beautiful fingers, slipping his two middle digits into one of the loops and proceeding to curl them in a way that made your mind jump to highly inappropriate possibilities.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

His teeth graze the shell of your ear and the wetness forming between your thighs increases tenfold as the smooth tenor of his voice thrums through your skull.

“I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”

You’re not sure who leaned in first. But the next thing you know, your lips are on his. There’s no time to dwell on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend, your mind rapidly growing hazy from the unexpected intensity. There’s a certain viciousness in his ministrations, a brutality to his lust that he breathes into your lungs and sends blazing through your veins. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

You can’t help the surprised moan that escapes you when he takes your tongue between his lips and sucks, a low content hum reverberating through his chest before he releases you with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Fuck,” he groans languidly, “You taste like chocolate, baby.”

Calloused hands are curling around your jaw before you can fully recuperate, drawing your attention away from Baekhyun just in time to see Chanyeol’s rapidly approaching face. His dark eyes are hooded and wanting, the faintest of pouts residing on his red-bitten mouth as he breathes in an almost whining tone, “I wanna taste.”

You can think of no reason to object.

His lips slip over yours with a gentleness that is almost staggering. Despite his impatience, there’s an underlying hesitance to his motions, an uncertainty that gives you the feeling that… he’s waiting for you to take the lead. And you do such with fervor.

Raising a hand, you slip gentle fingers up the length of his throat and give an experimental squeeze, not hard enough to do anything other than apply a bit of pressure, but just enough to get your message across.

I’m in charge.

The delighted moan he produces in response makes your lips curl devilishly.

But you’re not given the opportunity to relish in the hot rush of power long, a second pair of lips attaching to your throat making you waver. A hot tongue laves over your collarbone, followed by the sharp pressure of teeth and your jaw goes slack.

Did Baekhyun just bite you?

And… why didn’t you hate it?

Chanyeol takes your open mouth as an invitation, smoothly tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Fuck. He tastes like cinnamon and liquor, a combination you had no idea could be so addictive.

Mind dazed and sufficiently distracted, you don’t notice the hand slipping beneath the fabric of your sweats until a shock of pleasure bolts up your spine. You gasp, breaking the kiss as your eyes drop in order to see which of the two boys is the culprit. Baekhyun lets out a low groan, feathering gentle touches over the soaking fabric of your underwear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He growls dangerously in your ear. “We’ve barely even started. Are you already that excited?”

You shudder involuntarily, only managing a hoarse moan when he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit. He chuckles tauntingly, as if you’ve just proved his point, but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed with the way his skilled fingers are stroking your clothed heat.

The heaviness of Chanyeol’s gaze boring into you, devouring every detail of your blissed expression, only serves in making the sensations all the more intense. You attempt to grind yourself down into Baekhyun’s touch, seeking more friction, only to whimper in dismay as he withdraws completely, leaving you cold, unsatisfied, and aching for more.

“Baekhyun—”

“Take them off.” The abruptness of the command has your breath catching in your throat and a telling warmth fluttering through your core. You weren’t accustomed to hearing Baekhyun’s voice like this, so different from his usually light hearted teasing and playful jibes that it throws you for a moment. He cocks a brow amid your stunned silence, licking over the seam of his lip. “What? You need help?”

Snapping yourself out of it, you swing your gaze over to Chanyeol, offering him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Can’t say I’d mind it.”

“I’m happy to lend a hand.” He hums, shooting you a playful wink that has a wide smile breaking across your face. He makes quick work of your borrowed sweats, easily tugging the loose fabric down the length of your legs and casting it aside carelessly. You watch the way his eyes flit greedily over the expense of your bare thighs, relishing the low, strained groan that flutters from his gaping lips when his attention fixes on the thin, black, lacy material that separates him from your soaking pussy.

“Those, too,” you instruct softly, sinking your teeth into the inside of your cheek. He swallows, and goes to reach for them, only to draw back abruptly when you swat his hands away with a sound of disapproval, “uh-uh. Do it with your teeth.”

Chanyeol’s breath hitches, a severe blush rushing into his cheeks.

Beside you, Baekhyun grins wildly. “That’s my girl.”

You smirk to yourself at the praise, but don’t remove your eyes from Chanyeol’s for a single moment, absolutely loving the pretty shade of red his handsome face has taken on.

Slowly, he dips his head, not daring to break your gaze as he latches his teeth onto the thin black lace on your underwear and begins to drag them down the length of your legs. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, soothed by the press of his hot palms as they trail his descent down your thighs, over the curves of your knees, down your calves, until you are left bare and exposed before them.

Fuck. That was so hot.

“Cute, isn’t he?” Baekhyun hums playfully against your jaw, like the whisper of the devil in your ear. You let out a trembling breath as the younger boy presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, nodding with an airy sigh of ‘ so cute’. Baekhyun nips at the juncture of your throat, and you can only watch with bated breath as he reaches a hand between your thigh, dragging his long middle finger through your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Want your sweet Chanyeollie to eat your pretty cunt, baby? Hm? Want him to make you feel good?”

Your chest rises rapidly, fast, shallow breaths swirling into your lungs. His filthy words curl beneath your nose, thrumming in your ears, intoxicating and disorienting in their deadly temptation. Desperation tugs at every nerve in your body and your hips buck and roll, chasing his caress. Want pools, dark and heavy, in Chanyeol’s hooded eyes as he watches his friend’s teasing ministrations. He licks his lips, full and pink and glistening in the low light of their apartment and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Fuck yes.” The words are nothing less than a growl in the back of your throat, a sound you never thought yourself capable of producing.

Baekhyun suddenly reaches forward, weaving his fingers through Chanyeol’s thick hair and tugging him forward. The younger gives no resistance, bracing his hands on your lower thighs as he allows himself to be guided to you. His lips part, tongue peeking out, and your anticipation skyrockets. But then he stops just short, and all you’re left with is the faint caress of his warm breath to soothe the insatiable ache between your hips. You almost whimper.

Chanyeol’s nostrils flare, eyes sharpening in annoyance as he shoots a glare up in Baekhyun’s direction. He only grins and arches a brow. “What? You’re not gonna ask for it first? Where are your manners, Yeol?” He gasps mockingly, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You don’t expect Chanyeol to give in at first, not with how competitive he could be and especially not with Baekhyun acting so damn condescending. But then he does, and you forget how to breathe.

“Please, y/n,” he pants hotly against your skin, “I wanna taste you so bad. I wanna make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good. Please. Fuck, please.” A low, needy groan trembles in the back of his throat, clinging to that last ravenous plea. He snags his lower lip between his teeth and you feel yourself throb. The man looks down right sinful, Baekhyun still clutching onto his inky locks, forcing a slight strain in his neck as he looks up at you with those damn eyes that make your stomach churn and your mind spin.

God, he’s so beautiful.

Overwhelmed with the need to touch him, you nudge Baekhyun’s hand out of the way and replace it with your own, immediately loving the feeling of Chanyeol’s soft hair sliding between your fingers. His eyes flutter under the gentleness of your grip, lips parting as he breathes a delicate sigh, gazing up at you expectantly.

“Come here, Yeolie.”

He’s more than happy to comply.

The first stroke of his tongue sends sparks of electricity shooting through your entire body, a silent gasp shaping your lips. He looks up at you through dark lashes, encouraged and invigorated by your responsiveness to him, licking eagerly at your cunt. Soft moans flutter through his chest, and you shiver at the faint vibrations that are sent pulsing through you.

“Fuck, Chan,” you hiss, rocking your hips forward when he laves over your clit. The friction makes your skin tremble, a dangerous heat rising beneath it. If you knew he was this good with his mouth, you would have jumped his bones a whole lot sooner.

Another moan builds in your chest, but it’s abruptly stifled when Baekhyun tangles a hand into your hair and pulls you into a kiss that doesn’t fail to knock the air out of your lungs. Having both of their mouths on you makes your head spin and you can’t decide which to focus on. You’ve never been with more than one person at the time and it’s slightly overwhelming to suddenly have two men— two gorgeous men at that, both eager and willing to give you more pleasure than you’ve ever experienced.

Warm fingers suddenly slip beneath the thick fabric of your sweatshirt, and you shiver as they glide over your skin, light and teasing in advance towards your chest. A tremor wracks your spine when he pinches a nipple, squeezing his digits around the shape of your breast. Your back arches unconsciously, and you feel him smirk. Distracted, you don’t feel the burn of Chanyeol’s impatient glare until his teeth sink into the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Yelping in shock, you snap your gaze back down to the younger boy, disbelief coloring your features. He has the audacity to smirk at you, cocking a brow in a manner that has a mixture of annoyance and arousal flaring up in your gut. Any glimmer of smug accomplishment is quickly washed from his face when your hand shoots down and roughly grips the hair on the back of his head, yanking him upwards until your nose to nose.

“Watch your teeth, Yeolie.” You murmur darkly.

“Or what?” The corner of your mouth twitches at his gutsy response.

“Or I’ll make sure to edge you until you cry.”

His eyes widen at the threat and he swallows thickly. From your peripheral, you see the crotch of his grey sweatpants rise.

“Oh? But it looks like you’d like that.” A deep crimson flush rushes into his ears and tinges the tips of his ears and he lowers his eyes, unable to hold your mirthful gaze any longer. “I guess I’ll just have to think of a better punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes out airy and desperate, the natural rasp making the knot in your stomach tighten, “I promise I’ll be good.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.” You search his blown pupils for any sign of dishonesty, but find only sincerity and intoxicating lust. Satisfied, you release your tight grip on his hair in favor of gently stroking your knuckles over his blushing cheek.

“Then be a good boy and show me what this pretty mouth,” you trace your thumb gently over the soft, pink flesh of his lower lip, “can really do.”

The moment he’s released from your entrancing gaze, his mouth is on you again, eating you out with a fervor you’ve never before experienced. Your hips buck against him, your head tipping back as you let out rasping groans.

“Fuck, Yeol. That’s it, baby. Good boy.” He moans against you as spill praise after praise, lapping hungrily at your soaking pussy.

“That was so fucking sexy.” Baekhyun growls roughly, kissing you hard once before he’s pulling away to speak again. “Watching you boss him around, take control like that…” his voice drawls into a low groan, “really does something to me.”

“Yeah?” You ask shakily, mind whirling as Chanyeol buries his tongue inside of you. Baekhyun grins, humming lightly in confirmation. “Maybe you should let me boss you around, too.”

“Not a chance.” He chuckles. “Maybe next time. But tonight…” your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing ever so gently, “your mine, sweetheart.”

Next time. He said next time.

There’s going to be a next time.

The amount of joy you receive from those two simple words borders on irrational.

“I— oh fuck!” You can only cry out in bliss as Chanyeol wraps his lips around your clit, sucking roughly. Your hips jerk and grind, moving on their own accord as he draws you closer and closer to your high. God, you’re so close you can taste it. Your trembling hands find purchase in his hair once more, desperate to hold onto something as the coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“You gonna cum all over Yeolie’s tongue, baby? You gonna cum for us?” Baekhyun coos encouragingly against your jaw, and you can only whimper and nod frantically, unable to speak when Chanyeol sinks a long finger into your wet cunt, fucking you skillfully with his digit while he focuses his mouth on abusing your throbbing clit until your reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess on their living room couch.

“Yes— oh god, yes.”

When the coil snaps, it snaps hard. You can only manage a strangled whimper when it crashes over you. How long had it been since you last come on something other than your own hand? Weeks? Months? You can’t recall. But honestly how much does it really matter when your best friend’s face is nestled snug between your thighs?

The muscles of your legs seize and tremble beneath the force of your release, only held open by Chanyeol’s strong hands. He is unrelenting even as you come undone around him, tongue rolling over your clit, finger curling against your walls as his heady, hooded eyes devour you. You only manage to get him to detach him from you when you give a weak tug at his hair, the post-orgasm sensitivity proving too much for your body to handle.

“F– fuck.” You shiver, panting as tendrils of residual pleasure lick at your senses, the cold phantom of his tongue making you clench around nothing but empty air is pathetic greed. “Fuck, come here.”

Chanyeol is quick to rise onto his knees, obedient as ever, letting out a soft gasp of surprise as you cup his face and draw him into a heated kiss. He melts into you, large hands finding purchase on your thighs (which are still shaking) and caressing them soothingly.

“Thank you,” you breathe against his mouth, “thank you. Thank you.”

You feel him smiling as you continue to express your gratitude in gentle words spoken between deep, passionate kisses and it’s not long before his smile turns into something wide and toothy and uncontainable and he’s bursting into a fit of giggles as you resort to peppering the rest of his face in playful kisses.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Save the aftercare for when we’re done, yeah?” Baekhyun’s lilting hum draws your attention, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“We’re not done?”

His brows jump, that familiar lopsided smirk offsetting his pretty lips. “Are you kidding me? We’ve got two years worth of orgasms to make up for. We’re nowhere near finished.” A shiver of excitement ricochets down your spine at the promise laced into his words, and you have to bite your lip to keep a wide grin at bay.

Suddenly, Baekhyun rises from the couch and it’s with immense effort that you refrain from staring directly at the prominent bulge straining against the thin fabric of his plaid pajama pants. Swallowing thickly, you look up at him as he extends a hand. “Come on. The bedroom is much more comfortable to get your brains fucked out in. Speaking from experience.” You scoff at the sleazy smirk he shoots you, but slide your hand into his nonetheless.

The moment you’re on your feet, your knees buckle and you nearly topple. Luckily for you, Chanyeol has remarkable reflexes (when it counts) and catches you by the waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Shit, Yeol. You really did a number on her.” Baekhyun remarks teasingly. A feverish blush rises up your neck and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up.”

He bites the corner of his lip, gives you a heated once over that leaves your skin burning and trembling, before spinning on his heels sauntering in the direction of his bedroom door. He stops in the frame for a brief moment and shoots you a sultry wink from over his shoulder. “Come make me.”

Fuck.

Chanyeol let’s out a yelp of surprise as you lace your fingers through his and tug him hurriedly in the direction of his roommate’s bedroom. The very second that you’re through the door, lips connect with yours, stealing the very air from your lungs and obliterating any last remaining bit of your sanity. Hands seize your half naked body, eagerly exploring the expanse of your feverish skin. They tug at the hindering fabric of your sweatshirt, until all at once it is being pulled over your head and cast off carelessly somewhere in the darkness. You don’t even shiver, the heat of their bodies surrounding you and warding off the cool air.

Chanyeol takes the opportunity to slide a hand beneath your chin and tilt your head back so that it rests on his shoulder, the tip of his tongue flicking over your lips until they part, welcoming him in. Reaching back, you grab hold of his hips, tugging them forward and guiding them in a slow grinding motion against your ass. He moans hotly at the frictions, kiss turning sloppy as pleasure rushes through him.

You’re distinctly aware of the pressure of Baekhyun’s own mouth beginning a slow descent, starting from your jaw, gliding down the length of your throat, pausing to lick and suck at your sensitive nipples, kissing with a staggering tenderness over your belly. Then you hear his knees hit the floor. All at once, his tongue flattens against your clit, and you have to break away from Chanyeol as your body jolts violently in response. There’s still lingering sensitivity from your first orgasm, amplifying the pleasure tenfold.

And god, it’s so good.

“F– fuck, Baek—” your voice breaks off into a trembling whimper, hips bucking as he sinks a finger into your heat. Followed shortly thereafter by a second. Then a third. The stretch has you keening, leaning the full weight of your body against Chanyeol’s sturdy chest. He’s the only thing keeping you upright at the moment. Had you been left to your own devices, you would have already collapsed.

“Gotta make sure you’re ready for us, baby.” Baekhyun hums with a lightness entirely unfitting for the current situation, nipping at the inside of your thigh. He supplies you with a slow, calculated thrust, biting his lip harshly as he watches your glistening arousal coat his digits. “Fucking hell, your soaking.”

You whimper shakily, head tipping back as Chanyeol nips and sucks at the juncture of your throat, his large hands gliding over the shape of your body as if he intends to commit it to memory— caressing every curve, fondling every edge, touching you, worshipping you with a reverence that pours into your very soul. You’ve never been touched like this before. Most men just think they have a right to you the second your clothes are off (some even before that). There’s no respect, no appreciation, nothing but dirty lust.

But this— this is different. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put into words. The way he’s touching you, like you’re a precious work of art, it makes you feel good. It makes you feel… beautiful. Something you rarely, if ever, felt when you were with your ex.

Baekhyun swirls his tongue around your clit and simultaneously curls his fingers, successfully stroking that long neglected bundle of nerves inside of you. The sensations it sets off inside of you are intense and overwhelming, and within seconds you’re coming for a second time. This orgasm comes completely unexpectedly and without any real warning outside of the breakneck explosion of pleasure that has stars scattering across your vision.

“Baek—!” you can only manage a broken yelp of his name as your body convulses above him, wracked and disoriented by the sudden, explosive burst of ecstasy. Now your shivering, trembling and gasping violently, but not from the cold. He watches in wonder as you unravel, clenching so tightly around his fingers that he can only begin to imagine what you’ll feel like coming around his cock. Shit, he can’t wait to be inside of you. He’s throbbing at the mere thought of it.

Chanyeol’s no better off, barely holding himself back from rutting against you like some kind of animal. But he wants to impress you, show you he has some semblance of self control even when it feels like he might burst in his pants at any given moment. He wants to be good for you. So for now, he can only watch with bated breath, painfully hard in his sweats, as your face contorts into an expression of pure bliss. God, you look so beautiful like this he almost can’t stand it. How could anyone let someone like you go?

“Holy f-fuck.” You whimper, attempting to catch your breath as your high begins to fade. Baekhyun has plastered a cocky grin across his face by the time you look down at him, though his eyes still sparkle with something indecipherable.

“That was a good one.” He says, carefully retracting his fingers from your heat as Chanyeol hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose behind your ear comfortingly when you shudder and whine at the emptiness. “We’re gonna break her at this rate.”

“Not a chance,” you interject firmly, albeit somewhat breathlessly, “I’m a lot tougher than you think.” It’s the truth, but the quiver in your voice begs to differ.

“So you can handle another one?” Baekhyun asks, rising to his full height.

You hold his fiery gaze. “I can handle anything you give me.”

Something in his eyes darkens. “Careful, sweetheart. You have… no idea the kind of filthy, depraved things I want to do to you.” His voice drops an octave, and, despite having already come twice (twice as many times as you were used to), your greedy cunt still throbs with need.

Boldly, you extend a hand, caressing over his clothed length, and feel a surge of pride when he inhales sharply, hard gaze faltering.

Leaning forward, you feather your lips over his, teasing. It’s a dangerous game you're playing, you know that. But you’re enjoying it far too much to stop now.

“Show me.”

Those two little words are all it takes to break Byun Baekhyun.

“Bed. Now.”

Perhaps you’re just a little too eager to comply, barely biting back a grin of excitement as you turn tail and scramble to his king sized bed.

The disheveled sheets welcome you into their embrace, still warm in the spot Baekhyun had occupied prior your unannounced visit. They smell of him, you notice, the coconut of his shampoo, the milk & honey of his body wash, the soft vanilla of his perfume. You recognize the latter as the bottle he “borrowed” from you a few months back and had yet to return. Not that you really mind. You secretly like the fact that he smells like you.

Chanyeol is first to round the side of the bed, ridding himself of his clothes along the way. Shirt first, then pants, and you can’t help but giggle as he hops clumsily out of his boxers, nearly bumping into the nightstand before he falls gracelessly onto the mattress beside you, offering up a sheepish grin.

“Sexy, aren’t I?” Sarcasm bleeds through his tone, embarrassment hot on his cheeks, though it’s quickly soothed as you draw him into a gentle kiss.

“Excruciatingly.” You enunciate teasingly, nipping at the tip of his nose.

The bed dips around your ankles, and you peer down to see a very primal looking Baekhyun crawling towards you, like a predator honing in on his prey. The carnal hunger pooling in his hooded eyes hits you straight in the chest, and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

Slotting himself between your hips, you could easily make out every inch of his length resting against your stomach, hot and hard and throbbing. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone inside of you this badly. His head lowers to your throat and he sets your skin ablaze with open mouthed kisses. Chanyeol makes sure the opposite side of your neck isn’t neglected long, feeling the erratic pulsing of your carotid artery beneath the slow strokes of his tongue. Your head falls back into the pillows, a sigh fluttering from your lips as you’re bathed in their affections.

Baekhyun slips a hand beneath your knee, hooking it over his hip. Your lungs tremble with excitement when he slides his tip slowly through your wet folds.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you see stars.”

“I already have,” you smirk lazily in response, snagging the corner of your lip between your teeth, “Twice.”

He doesn’t seem discouraged, curving a hand around the shape of your jaw and feathering his mouth over yours as his eyes glint with something sinful and electrifying. “Then I’m gonna show you the goddamn galaxy.”

There’s no time to respond before his hips are rolling forward, filling you to the hilt with one smooth stroke. A breathless gasp trembles from his throat, “fuck.”

“Does she feel good?” The question that escapes Chanyeol is weak and needy, strained and rough, coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He almost sounds like he’s struggling, battling with himself internally as he watches his best friend’s cock disappear inside of our cunt with a lewd squelch. The searing heat of his gaze makes you whine in pathetic desperation, no longer unable to form coherent words to express your desire.

“Fucking Christ, Yeol. She’s so tight a-and wet— ah, fucking perfect.” Baekhyun’s shoulders arch, a tremor rippling down his spine as your walls constrict around him, squeezing so tightly he almost loses himself then and there. But he manages to hold back, bracing a hand on your hip as he pushes himself up right.

“Baek, please.”

There’s no need for elaboration. He knows exactly what you’re asking for. And hell, he’s more than happy to provide.

The first thrust of his hips has your back arching off of the mattress, mouth opening in silent bliss. The pace he sets is punishing, fast and deep and rough. His blunt nails dig harshly into the flesh of your hips, but you relish in it, pain and pleasure coming together to create the perfect cocktail. The lingering sensitivity from your two previous orgasms only serves to heighten the ecstasy that you're experiencing. And with Chanyeol pressed against your side, large, calloused hands and gentle lips making sure each and every inch of you is receiving attention, it doesn’t take long at all before you feel that coil in your stomach tightening.

“I’m not gonna last.” You moan weakly, clinging to Chanyeol like he’s your one and only lifeline.

“Fuck, come on, beautiful. Be a good girl and come on my cock.” Baekhyun growls, snapping his hips roughly into yours. You cry out desperately when Chanyeol trails a hand down your body, circling a careful finger around your clit.

“Oh god, please. Please, Yeol. Harder. Baek— fuck, please.” You’re on the verge of tears, muscles shuddering violently as the white hot pleasure pulses through your veins.

“Who are you begging, sweetheart?” Baekhyun grins down at you devilishly, licking at his teeth as his eyes glow with something dangerous and powerful. Your stomach whirls, and you nearly headbutt Chanyeol when your body lurches, entirely overwhelmed. It’s so much— too much— but, somehow, not enough.

Your legs squeeze around Baekhyun’s hips, heels pressing into the swells of his ass, urging him deeper as you implore him wordlessly for more. You want everything, however selfish that may sound. You want it all. Every last piece of him.

This time around, you’re more than grateful that he can read you so well.

Simultaneously, the two boys fiercen their ministrations: Baekhyun, fucking himself into you so hard that the headboard is slamming into the wall; Chanyeol, applying enough pressure to your sensitive clit that your sanity nearly flies out the window. Within seconds, entangled in the staggering heat of their bodies, you come undone.

Damn. Baekhyun wasn’t kidding about showing you the galaxy.

Never in your life have you experienced an orgasm like this. One that tears through your very being like a raging tsunami. You feel it rippling through every cell, igniting every nerve ending in fiery ecstasy.

Baekhyun is barely able to hold himself together as you unravel beneath him, his entire body trembling and sweating with the effort of fighting back his own high, which is threatening to break over him at any given second. The mere sight of you is almost enough to do him in, but he wants to make sure to ride you through yours before he allows himself even a taste of his own. Harder said than done when you look so good and feel ever better, clenching and pulsing around him and god he’s about to lose his fucking mind.

He’s panting and groaning, rolling his hips deeply into yours, keeping himself teetering dangerously on that edge. But it’s you, your voice whimpering his name, your fluttering, teary eyes barely able to keep themselves open looking up at him, that finally breaks him. He bucks into you sharply, hips spluttering, body shaking as he spills himself. It’s sudden and it’s messy and it’s the most goddamn beautiful thing you’ve ever witnessed.

The moment he’s finished, he collapses on top of you, completely out of breath and red in the face; thoroughly fucked out. But that doesn’t stop him from bathing you in whispered praises.

“You’re so amazing. You did so well. You’re so beautiful.”

His words warm your heart, which is just barely beginning to return to a more natural rhythm. They lick the wounds from the nights previous events, soothe the ache that was long forgotten in the thralls of your best friends’ soothing touch.

Baekhyun pulls out of you carefully, and you have to physically stop yourself from pouting at the emptiness and loss of the weight and warmth of his body as he rolls off of you, flopping onto the mattress at your side with a huff of hazy laughter.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, a dopey smile plastered across his face as he tosses an arm over his eyes, “that was amazing.”

“So fucking amazing.” You emphasize, trying uselessly to catch your breath.

It’s only when you feel something nudging at your opposite hip that you're able to refocus your bleary mind on the unfinished task. You turn, finding the adorable scrunched face of Chanyeol, cheeks red, eyes wanting.

The younger boy chews on his lower lip, swallowing a groan. He’s trying his best not to come off as too desperate, but you see right through him. You see how hard he is, veins thick and throbbing beneath the angry red skin, his flushed tip weeping with precum. Honestly, you’re surprised he hasn’t touched himself yet. It looks like it hurts.

Licking your lips, you can’t help but to wonder what he might taste like, how he’d feel against your tongue, the kinds of sounds he’d make when his body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You bet he’s loud when he comes. Fuck, that deep, raspy voice would sound so good moaning your name.

… perhaps you are feeling just a little greedy.

“Yeol,” he snaps to attention at the wispy call of his name, inhaling sharply when your fingers graze his thigh, “come here.”

He blinks in confusion, not understanding what you want him to do. Recognizing the lost puppy dog look, you chuckle before elaborating in far more blunt terms to avoid further misunderstanding;

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

If he were to open his eyes any wider, you were certain they’d fall straight out of his head. “I– I can’t– you just—” he stutters clumsily, shaking his head, but you can feel his body practically trembling in excitement at the implication of your words.

“Please. You’ve been so good for me. I wanna make you feel good, too, baby.” You coo, tugging at his knee once more before leaning up to graze your lips over the shell of his flushed ear. “Let me make you feel good, Yeolie.”

He shivers violently, a strangled moan breaking from his swollen mouth, and you smirk to yourself, knowing you’ve got him. He seems nervous as he pushes himself up and crawls to kneel next to your head before hesitating, blinking as he tries to figure the right way to position himself.

He’s cute when he’s concentrating.

“Like this—” you chime in. Chanyeol gasps and flushes a deep red when you guide him forward until his knees are on either side of your head, his hard length swinging proudly above your nose.

Reaching up, you take his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers. “If I tap on the back of your hand—” you demonstrate, “it means stop, okay? You have to stop immediately when I do that because I won’t be able to speak.”

He nods, expression serious, “I understand. I’ll stop if you tap on my hand.”

“Good,” you pause, a gentle smile upturning the corners of your mouth, “I trust you.”

His breath hitches. “Thank you.”

Instead of responding, you tip your chin up and trace your tongue over the underside of his cock. His hips stutter forward, a surprised moan escaping him at the unexpected contact.

“Stop teasing and feed her your cock, Chanyeol. Can’t you see how bad she wants it?” Baekhyun chuckles mockingly, sliding a lithe hand around your jaw and squeezing, forcing your mouth open even wider. Chanyeol looks down at you through blown pupils, chest heaving, lust practically radiating from his every pore. But it’s only when you offer a nod of reassurance and a look that you hope gives of even the faintest of glimpses into your immense desire for this, for him, does he finally move.

With a tenderness only Park Chanyeol could possess in a position such as this, he guides himself between your awaiting lips. You moan unabashedly as the bittersweet taste of him hits your tongue, tipping your chin up to make more of him in. A shuddering moan pulses from his chest, pitched and broken on red bitten lips. The sound is somehow even more beautiful than you imagined.

Languidly, you swirl your tongue around his weeping tip, eliciting a strained whisper of your name as the grip he has on your hands tightens substantially. He offers a slow, shallow thrust, his head dropping forward as his length slides deeper into the warm cavern of your mouth. The pressure of your tongue against the underside of his cock and the heavy reverberations of your soft, encouraging moans invigorate him to set a careful rhythm, hips stroking gently forward.

Your knuckles dig into the messy sheets as he pivots his weight forward, and you quickly relax your jaw when you feel him inching closer to your throat with every thrust. Chanyeol is even more considerate than you thought he’d be, pulling out far enough between steady strokes that you can swallow lungfuls of oxygen before sliding smoothly back in, deeper and deeper each time. Tears pool in the corners of your eyes, mouth straining in order to accommodate his impressive girth. But hell, it’s worth it. Totally worth it.

His breathing became harsh and labored, filling his lungs with sharp, ragged inhales that shudder through the deep cavity of his chest. “F– fuck, y/n,” he groans hoarsely, head dipping as his eyes squeeze shut, “your mouth is— s- so good.”

Your core tightens around nothing at the rasping whimper, the faint caress of his warm breath rousing goosebumps across the damp skin of your belly. The subconscious clenching of your thighs is wholly unintentional, but it does not go unnoticed.

Chanyeol lets out a choked gasp as a hand slides into his hair, his upper body suddenly forced downwards.

“Come on, Yeolie,” Baekhyun coos tauntingly in his ear, “you were the one going on and on about balance. So why don’t you provide some… ‘give and take’, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he barely whispers, but you still feel a rush of hot breath over your core and moan throatily around his cock. He tenses and shudders in response to the delicious rush of vibrations, tightening his grip on your hands as Baekhyun guides him lower.

Honestly, you aren’t sure at first if you have another one in you. Three orgasms in one night was unimaginable before tonight. Four seemed simply unrealistic. Your poor pussy is still pulsing and trembling from the last. But the moment Chanyeol flicks his tongue over your clit, the most delicate of kitten licks, you know that you do.

This time though, it’s like molten metal boiling in the pit of your stomach, a wholly unfamiliar sensation. Each press of his lips and roll of his tongue fans the fire blazing through your veins. You try your best to keep up, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, but it’s difficult when it feels like your brain is short circuiting. The pleasure is fiercer, more intense, rolling over you in thick, devastating waves. You’re reduced to little more a moaning, writhing mess beneath him, barely able to keep yourself from choking on his cock.

Chanyeol’s hips buck frantically as your throat constricts, his own ministrations getting rougher and sloppier the closer he gets. You feel his teeth against your clit, then two long fingers slipping through your slicks folds and fucking themselves into your pussy. Baekhyun can only groan hotly at how easily you take his digits, squeezing his opposite hand around the base of his hard dick.

“I’m gonna come,” Chanyeol whimpers hurriedly, “oh fuck I’m gonna come.”

Suddenly, his hips pulse and your bottom lip make contact with the flat of his pelvis. It takes every ounce of control you have over your body to push back your gag reflex, but the way he trembles and breaks above you is undoubtedly worth the strain. A jumbled mess of words tumble from his lips as he comes, though only your name and a select few curses are intelligible between the deep, violent moans that burst from his chest.

Tears fall from the corners of your eyes as he fucks himself into your mouth, motions stuttered and sloppy. But you swallow around him eagerly as he fills your throat with his release, which only serves in prolonging his orgasm until he’s shivering and whining and hell— each sound, each tremble has the coil in your stomach squeezing tighter and tighter.

All the while, Baekhyun’s fingers are loyally exploring your silken walls until he once again discovers that small bundle of nerves that make your head spin. Combined with Chanyeol moaning and growling against your clit— you're a dead woman.

This final orgasm is the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Every hair on your body jumps to stand at attention, oxygen suddenly igniting into flames in your lungs. You scream around Chanyeol’s cock, back bowing off the mattress, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. It’s so intense you honestly feel like you might pass out. But it’s so good, too good —fuck, it’s the best you’ve ever had!— and you want to relish in every mind numbing moment.

All at once, Chanyeol is gone from between your lips and you gasp, a rush of cool air like a glass of ice water in the torrid desert flooding into your lungs and soothing the angry blaze.

“Holy shit.”

You’re too gone in the high to make out who the strained whisper had come from, or to notice the sudden substantial amount of wetness painting the insides of your thighs and seeping into the sheets below. Your brain feels thoroughly scrambled, effectively stupefied by the prodigious pleasure and you can do nothing but bask in it.

“Have you ever done that before?” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize that the question is directed at you.

“Hmm?” You hum blearily, not bothering to try and lift your head.

“Squirting,” Baekhyun clarifies, voice thick with wonder, “have you ever done that before?”

“Squirting? No, I’ve never—” your head snaps up, eyes bulging, “I squirted?!”

If the excessive arousal currently coating (and dripping from) Chanyeol’s astonished face and the unusually large wet spot staining the sheets is anything to go by, the answer is a clear yes.

Panic strikes your chest. “Oh my god. Oh my god, I- I am so—”

“Don’t apologize! Don’t you dare apologize.” Baekhyun abruptly cuts you off, splaying a hand over your belly. “That has to be the most— amazing thing I have ever seen. No girl has ever squirted on me before. I’m honestly honored.”

“Baekhyun, please.” You whine, pulling a pillow over your feverish face and snapping your legs shut.

“I’m serious!” He yelps indignantly, tugging the pillow away from you and tossing it to the side despite your noisy complaints. Two strong hands find either of your thighs and pry them apart in spite of your stubborn resistance, revealing the slippery mess you made on the sheets below.

Heat rushes up your neck as Chanyeol falls into position between them like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world and begins licking at your wet skin. The muscles of your thighs shake and tighten uncontrollably under the intimate ministrations, the post orgasm sensitivity extending beyond your core and into each of your limbs.

“Chan,” you whimper remorsefully, clenching your fingers in the duvet, “I can’t. I can’t.”

He smiles against your skin, licks turning into gentle kisses that make your heart flutter and melt in ways it definitely should not in response to your best friend’s big, sweet eyes. Then again— this entire situation is remarkably unconventional in regards to a typical friendship. Not that you’re complaining because really, how could you? Four orgasms? In one night? Unheard of. A part of you wonders if they were actually just trying to kill you.

While Chanyeol bathes you in his limitless affection, Baekhyun vanishes from your side and into the attached bathroom, returning only moments later with a towel saturated with hot water. You hum gratefully as he carefully scrubs away the sheen of sweat and sticky arousal clinging to your skin. And he’s considerate, too? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.

“You guys are going to ruin all other men for me, fucking hell.” You huff out a hoarse chuckle. Chanyeol suddenly flops down beside you, nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“Who needs other men when you have us?” He rebukes, large hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

You can honestly find no reason to disagree.

“Guys,” Baekhyun chimes once finished scrubbing you down, “let’s move to Chanyeol’s room. I need to throw these sheets in the washer before they get crusty. Made that mistake once. Never again.”

“I would totally do that but I’m pretty sure my legs are numb.”

“Ain’t no thang, pretty lady. I’ve got you.” Chanyeol chirps gallantly, slipping his arms beneath your legs and back. Before you can make any kind of protest, you’re being swooped off the bed and pressed into a warm chest. Shrieks of laughter peel from your lips as the gentle giant spins, and you throw your arms around his neck just for extra precaution.

“Yeolie,” Baekhyun whines mockingly, stomping his foot childishly as he plasters an exaggerated pout across his face, “you never pick me up and twirl me around like a pretty princess.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you tease, extending a leg and pressing your toes against his chest, “only room for one pretty princess in this apartment.”

“Oh, okay. I see how it is.” He scoffs as he stumbles back and falls dramatically back onto the mattress, hand splayed over his heart like you had somehow managed to wound him.

“Speaking of washing,” Chanyeol chirps, glancing down at you, “How does a warm bath sound?”

“Like heaven.” You groan. “Baek, feel free to join us after you're done doing your laundry.” You shoot him a mirthful grin as Chanyeol pivots and carries you out of the room that bears the musky, filthy scent of sex.

“Wait you’re just gonna— but I—“ Baekhyun wavers, looking between your retreating figures and his stupid dirty sheets before letting out a groan of frustration and scurrying after you. “Fuck it. I’m coming, I’m coming!”

“Is your bathtub big enough to fit three people?” You question, gaze landing on Baekhyun’s cute ass as he jogs ahead.

Chanyeol shrugs, humming thoughtfully. “We can squeeze.”

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“We can definitely squeeze.”

1K notes · View notes

cloudywriter · 3 years

Text

a trip to target

rowaelin month - september 6th

prompt: firstborn arrives

i literally have no idea where this idea came from like it’s so weird but i think it’s funny so i just had to write it. honestly though pregnancy freaks me out a little so it was a little uncomfy to write at times but i pushed through and i like it. enjoy!

(warning for some minor language)

masterlist, AO3

~~~

Rowan was working on one of his client's cases, a rather nasty divorce that he knew was going to be an absolute dumpster fire when his wife called him again. Rowan couldn’t help but smile a little at her name lighting up his phone screen but admittedly she was bothering him so much he barely got any work done nowadays.

He picked up anyway, he’d never decline her. “Hey, Fireheart.”

“I’m bored, buzzard,” Aelin deadpanned.

“I know, baby, but I’ll come home after my meeting later, I promise. Then we can watch Bachelor reruns all night and eat ice cream,” Rowan assured her, leaning back in his office chair. For some reason, all she wanted to do nowadays was watch bad reality tv and eat ice cream from the carton. As much as Rowan hated reality shows and wasn't keen on sweets he did anything to make her happy.

“That’s too far away, I’m rotting away on this couch,” Aelin whined.

Aelin’s work had forced her on maternity leave a few days ago as she was due any day now with their first child, a little girl, and Aelin was not taking it well. She was the kind of person who liked to always be busy and now she had nothing to do but sit on the couch and wait for their child to decide she was ready to enter the world. She was constantly phoning Rowan seeking some form of entertainment but he was still working on this damn case.

Rowan thought her restlessness had something to do with the fact she was terrified at the thought of giving birth and caring for a newborn. If she were distracted she wouldn’t have to think about the daunting task at hand. So, he did his best to keep her happy and preoccupied but he desperately needed to wrap up this case before his daughter arrived. He wanted to be there for every moment of the beginning of her life, he didn’t fancy any legal cases looming over his head vying for his attention as well.

“I know, I’ll be home as soon as I can. Hang tight, my love.”

Aelin huffed from the other end of the line. “I’m ready for her to be out, Rowan. This sucks.”

Rowan stifled a laugh, he knew being pregnant had lost its charm a long time ago. At first, she enjoyed Rowan fetching anything she asked for and waiting on her, but then that started to get old, and Aelin's pregnancy symptoms made her miserable most of the time. So, the last couple of months hadn't been her favorite.

“I’m ready to meet her too. Any second now.”

“Okay, I’ll stop bothering you now," Aelin concluded. She likely finally found something on Netflix that piqued her interest. "Good luck with your meeting, I hope they settle. I love you,” Aelin told him.

“I love you too, see you soon,” and with that, the call ended. Rowan looked out the window of his office, thinking. Maybe he could send someone to keep her company?

He ran through a list of their friends in his head. Elide, Aedion, and Lysandra were all working as far as he knew and didn’t want to ask them to leave their job to entertain Aelin. He thought of Lorcan, Connall, and Fenrys, they all worked for him so technically he could let them off. Except, Aelin didn’t particularly like Lorcan and he didn’t think Connall would be very keen on that arrangement either. Fenrys, though, Aelin and Fenrys were best of friends, a force of nature all on their own.

So, Rowan rang his assistant requesting that Fenrys be sent to his office. Not much time passed before Fenrys was standing in the doorway, knocking lightly on its frame.

“What’s up?” He asked, plopping himself down on a chair opposite Rowan, making himself comfortable.

“I have a favor to ask,” Rowan confessed.

“A favor?” Fenrys raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Can you go keep Aelin company while I’m trying to settle with the Westfalls?” Rowan probed.

Fenrys frowned. “As much as I love Ace I can’t take a day off work to hang out with her. I have bills to pay and ladies to take out.”

Rowan nearly groaned, fighting an internal battle with himself. “I’ll let you do it on the clock,” he finally spit out.

“You’re going to pay me to go entertain your wife?” Fenrys looked bewildered. “I feel like is almost insulting to Aelin, you paying people to hang out with her. You’re the one she should be paying people to hang out with.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not like that. I feel bad because I know she’s struggling and I can’t be home right now. I don’t want her to have to be alone, just take her to Target or something.”

“Aelin’s a grown woman, can’t she take herself to Target?” Fenrys disputed.

“Yes, but she’s a grown woman who’s nearing 40 weeks pregnant. I’d rather she have a chaperone,” Rowan admitted, before backtracking. “Don’t ever tell her I said that.”

Fenrys looked amused as Rowan continued. “Are you really going to say no?”

“Of course not, getting paid to go to Target with Aelin is a hell of a lot better than getting paid to do paperwork,” Fenrys conceded.

Rowan blew a sigh of relief as Fenrys headed to go pick up Aelin.

+++

Fenrys had successfully gotten Aelin to Target. It wasn’t a hard task to accomplish, the woman loved Target but Fenrys noticed she seemed rather uncomfortable and he asked her multiple times if she just wanted to stay home instead. Aelin always said no, pushing on with their trip.

He supposed having a watermelon-sized bump on one’s front would cause a certain degree of discomfort, though. Naturally, the pair find themselves in the baby section, gushing over tiny onesies and shoes small enough to fit in the palm of their hands. Fenrys was swiping through a display of onesies, “Do you think they have any of those onesies that say like 'broken condom 'on them or something?”

Aelin turned around from where she was staring at baby headbands. “You’re nasty. My daughter was not the result of a broken condom.”

Fenrys made a face, “I don’t want to know.”

Aelin snorted and they continued their browsing making their way through every aisle that had anything remotely baby-related. By now, Fenrys noticed Aelin was growing increasingly uncomfortable, he could see her stamina slowing, and the difficulty walking was beginning to pose.

Eventually, he shifted to face her as they browsed the small, dollar section at the front of the store. “Do you want to head home and get off your feet?” he finally proposed.

“No,” Aelin responded without looking at him, picking up a small, fake succulent. “Walking is supposed to induce labor and that’s what I’m aiming for right now,” she stated, smoothing a hand over the front of her round stomach.

Fenrys shrugged, picking up a pair of cheap fuzzy socks before throwing them back into their bin.

He allowed Aelin to mill about the store, spending a healthy amount of time at the nightgown section before moving towards the back of the store. Aelin always said it wasn’t a trip to Target without going to the back and sniffing their extensive stockpile of candles.

That’s exactly where they ended up. Fenrys had his nose stuck in a deep violet candle, making a face at its scent. He checked the label. Cosmic starlight. What the hell was that supposed to smell like?

He turned to Aelin about to make her smell the atrocity when she braced herself against the shelf, putting down the candle she had been holding. Her mouth popped into an ‘o’ and her brow furrowed.

“Aelin?” Fenrys reached out a hesitant hand placing it on her shoulder.

Aelin breathed deeply, taking a moment to reply. “The baby must really hate the smell of sandalwood,” she finally vocalized.

Fenrys’ dark eyes widened. “Did you just have a contraction?”

“I think? It’s hard to tell if it was just a strong fake one or not,” Aelin panted eventually loosening her grip on the candle display shelf.

Fenrys wasn’t taking any chances, if Rowan wanted him to deal with a woman going into labor he’d have to raise his pay significantly. “How about we get you home, Ace.”

Aelin didn’t object, just nodded her agreement waddling towards the front of the store with Fenrys hovering around her like a fly.

They made it out to the parking lot without any further incident and Fenrys helped Aelin into his low, expensive sports car that was his prized possession. Aelin’s face scrunched up then a sharp gasp left her mouth, her hand flying to her stomach.

“I think squatting down trying to get into this thing just broke my water,” her eyes were wide with fear as she looked up at Fenrys.

Fenrys face was comical, his own eyes widening like saucers and his mouth dropped. Sure enough, the bottom of her dress was wet. Fenrys was frozen for a second his mind completely emptied out, then the panic set in sending a million thoughts racing through his head.

Fenrys audibly gulped, “Okay, um, I’m calling Rowan.” Fenrys grabbed his phone out of his pocket, fumbling with the device as he dialed Rowan’s contact, willing him to pick up.

Fenrys leaned slightly against the open passenger door as the phone rang. “You’ve reached Rowan Whitethorn-Galathynius, I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your call, please leave a message and I’ll -.”

Fenrys hung up and groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. Beside him, Aelin whimpered. “Holy shit, that was not fake,” she groaned, her grip tightening on the seat beneath her.

“Oh, gods, Aelin, please don’t give birth in my Mercedes,” he begged.

“Really, Fen?” She narrowed her eyes at him, she’d probably kick him in the groin if she wasn’t incapacitated.

“You know I love you, but I don’t want baby juice on the leather.”

“Just call Rowan again,” Aelin growled.

Fenrys did just that, silently pleading with the universe for Rowan to pick up his gods-damn phone. Relief washed over him as the call connected.

“Fen, I’m in a meeting this better be worth my while,” Rowan whispered harshly, he hated to be interrupted at work by anyone except Aelin.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your wife’s water did just break but I guess I’ll call back later,” Fenrys spat, growing increasingly flustered by the minute.

Fenrys heard a sharp intake of breath. “Fuck, shit, okay, where are you? I’m coming right now,” the jingle of keys filled Fenrys’ ear from Rowan's end of the call.

As Fenrys surveyed his surrounding the urge to laugh crept upon him, he fought his smile as he replied, “The Target parking lot.”

Aelin watched the exchange closely cluing in on Fenrys’ suppressed laughter. “It’s not funny, Fen!”

“It’s a little funny. I mean if anyone was going to have a baby in a Target parking lot, it’d be you. Or Lysandra. One of you two.”

Aelin snatched the phone out of Fenrys’ hand, pressing it to her ear. “Rowan,” she panted, resting her head on the side of the car.

Fenrys couldn’t hear much of what Rowan was saying, he spoke in a low voice trying to calm Aelin, assuring her he was coming and he loved her and she was okay.

They were sickeningly in love, Fenrys would admit.

“Okay, I love you too,” Aelin breathed, hanging up the phone and handing it back to Fenrys.

Fenrys leaned against the side of the car as they awaited Rowan’s arrival. “Cross your legs, Ace. Remember, no baby juice in the car,” he reminded her, trying his best to keep her mind off of what was happening while they waited.

“Go to hell,” Aelin murmured in the midst of a contraction. Fenrys wasn’t sure what to do so he bent forward to rub Aelin’s shoulder in an attempt to do what, he wasn’t sure. Aelin didn't yell at him though so he rubbed circles on her shoulder as she clung onto the seat.

Rowan showed up only a few minutes later, tearing into the parking lot like a bat out of hell, so at odds with his usual slow and steady driving style. He jumped out of the car, his tie loosened around his neck as he rushed to Aelin’s side.

He kneeled down next to the open car door, picking up her hand and brushing away the stray blonde strands of hair from her splotchy face. “I’m here, Fireheart. How far apart are your contractions?”

“I don’t know,” Aelin hissed. “Okay, okay, let’s just get you in the car and to the hospital,” Rowan decided, supporting Aelin as she eased out of the car, leaning heavily upon him.

Fenrys and Rowan successfully got Aelin into the passenger seat of his car, Rowan buckled her in and continued whispering words of love and support. Rowan rounded the car and hopped into the driver's side ready to book it to the hospital when one of the back doors opened and Fenrys slid in.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rowan asked, shifting in his seat to look back at Fenrys.

“I’m coming, obviously. I’m about to be an uncle,” Fenrys stated clearly.

Rowan internally debated with himself on whether to kick Fen out of the car or not but ultimately decided he needed to prioritize Aelin, if Fen wants to tag along then fine.

The ride to the hospital was tense, Rowan held Aelin’s hand across the center console, kissing the back of it and consoling her. Fenrys felt as though he was intruding but he refused to miss the birth of his niece.

Of course, once they were admitted to the hospital Fenrys was kicked to the waiting room while Rowan supported Aelin through the duration of her labor.

It progressed surprisingly quickly after her water broke, it was only a few hours later when a nurse told Fen he could come see the baby.

Fenrys pushed open the door to the room softly and peered in. On the bed was Aelin, her golden hair a fan around her and despite the traumatizing ordeal she was glowing. A small baby was wrapped up in a blanket, laying in Aelin’s arms. Rowan was at her side, peering down at the bundle in her arms with so much love Fenrys felt as though he should look away. The new parents were already smitten with their little human, running their fingers over her cheek.

Aelin perked up as Fenrys stepped into the room. She ushered him over and he too inspected the baby. She was so small, sleeping contently in her mother’s arms. Fen thought she had Rowan’s nose and he could see wisps of blonde hair from beneath her wool beanie.

“Is her name Target? Or Bullseye like the dog?” Fenrys quipped with a playful smile.

Aelin rolled her eyes as he interrupted the tender, intimate moment and shoved his shoulder with a shocking amount of strength for a woman who’d just pushed a whole baby out.

“No,” Rowan answered, his eyes not leaving Aelin or the baby, “Her name is Elora.”

“Elora,” Fenrys repeated. “She’s beautiful, Aelin.”

Aelin gave him a soft smile and Elora yawned, her little eyes fluttering open. She gazed up at Fenrys with eyes the color of a pine forest.

Fenrys beamed at the small girl and he liked to think she almost smiled back.

~~~

kinda leaning on the side of an aelin and fenrys brotp fic but i couldn’t not publish it, it’s so cute. it’s not as fluffy as i’d like it to be but it was supposed to be more funny, nonetheless, i have more rowaelin baby content planned that is very fluffy.

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin #fenrys moonbeam #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin au #rowaelin month

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poisonousquinzel · 3 years

Text

"so im not a real harley fan if i like her with joker????"

mhm, did i fucking stutter, honey?

Ha, lemme say it again.

Trigger Warning: Abuse

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly, consistently over decades, gaslit and manipulated her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly and consistently emotionally and verbally berated her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly, consistently, and constantly physically abused her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly beat her and then shoved her out of a window 5 stories up, resulting in her being in wheelchair with a broken arm and leg and a neck brace.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly run her over with a car.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly chained her in a basement full of rotting corpses of "Past Harley's" and left her to die because "I'm very possessive. I don't like to share my toys. And since you're just another disappointment in a long line of them, I can't have you running around out there. Representing me. I have a reputation. A brand to protect."

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly strangled her for simply saying she's sorry they're ending No Man's Land without him.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly shot her off in/strapped her to a rocket because he realized he felt something resembling feelings for her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly called her an "emotionally stunted, pestilent, dippy little dumpster stank."

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly given her babies rabies and stuck them on her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly tried her up in a straightjacket and attempted to push her into a hole of chemicals on a stretcher.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly, countless times, smacked, punched or kicked her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly called her an "Itch in his crotch".

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly tried to shoot and kill her (and only failed because it wasn't Harley in the costume.)

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly hung her by the neck with a chain.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly, consistently over decades, used her a pawn to get out of a situation with Batman and leaves her as bait.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly left her during a getaway as a distraction.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly left her bleeding out in a flipped over car during a get away.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly used electrocution on her. "Oh I'm not gonna kill ya, I'm just gonna hurt ya, really, really, bad."

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly pushed her into a vat of chemicals.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly manipulated her into jumping into a vat of chemicals to prove her love for him.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly tried to spray her with acid in a fit of rage.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly shoved her off a table for distracting him while he's busy.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly murdered her best friend.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly pushed her out of a plane.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly put hits out on her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly tied Harley up and carved a J into her chest.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly beat her with a hammer.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly attempted to beat her over the head with a typewriter (and only failed because of a slow reacting side effect of Poison Ivy's plant that he used to escape Arkham.)

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly entirely failed to notice her being gone for 9 months when she was literally pregnant with his child.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly taken control of her mind with magic and forced her to jump off a staircase. "Harley? Harley...don't overreact. It's not like anything improtant's broken. You know, I can just make you open the door."

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you actively like and put her with a man who has canonly murdered her.

You are not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you see the trauma and hell he put her through and think any of that is excuse able or possible to overlook because "he held her that one time!" and "their dynamic is what we love!"

Their dynamic is The Joker abusing her.

Their dynamic is The Joker leaving her and ditching her in Arkham.

Their dynamic is The Joker undermining her ideas and her IQ time and time again until he gets threatened and knocks her out of a five story building.

They have never been this iconic "partners in crime" dynamic because The Joker has never viewed her as his equal, let alone his partner.

You're not an actual Harley Quinn fan if you somehow manage to purposefully overlook the decades of content proving and outright stating the abusive nature of the relationship just to justify liking them.

"well what about Poison Ivy!!!!!"

what about her????? this post is clearly not about them??? It's about The Joker and Harley. But, since every time we, HQ fans, try n bring up how trash The Joker is to her y'all wanna mention Ivy, here. Ya want be educated about the 80% completely taken out of context panels people love using to try n justify equalizing the toxicity of Harley's relationship with them, here. fucking here. go read, it's been there. y'all don't wanna do basic research ig.

like if it's enough for you to not ship Harley and Ivy, it's understandable! It's okay!

But trying to say that Ivy and The Joker are equally abusive and toxic is frankly insulting.

The Poison Ivy moments are bad, but they are 1. confined to BTAS Verse, namely the Comic BTAS Verse. 2. Most of the moments are also literally not Poison Ivy, something that certain people refuse to get through their skulls. Green Skinned Ivy in BTAS is a plant clone, is canonly a clone.

The difference between these moments with Poison Ivy and the incidents with The Joker is the way they're portrayed. One is common 90s slapstick written by frankly sexist men who've been open about their dislike/bias around Ivy's character and the other is a consistently painted and canonly abusive relationship.

I am a Harley Quinn fan first, I am coming at this as one.

If Ivy was as abusive as Joker, we would not ship them either.

I'm not against The Joker and Harley because I only want her with Ivy.

I'm against The Joker and Harley because he's canonly an abusive piece of garbage who has never cared about her and if Ivy went on acting like those moments from the BTAS comics in other Verses, I'd fucking be against Harley and Poison Ivy too.

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #dc comics #tw abuse

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ryesillustrates · 2 years

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The Family Wade!

…okay, I doubt they could live up to the hype that is Encanto, but these kids were super fun to draw!

Arold Emmett Wade (Born October 19, 1867. INTP. 6w5) is an inventor and scientist who runs his own successful laboratory known as the Paracosm & Co. When he started working for the company in 1887, he worked his way up from a lab assistant to one of the most trustworthy employees of the company within a year… until 1888, when an incident caused by an overly ambitious lab partner nearly destroyed the world Arold knew, resulting in that employee’s termination and Arold’s rise to the heir of the company. Despite his cold, stoic nature, Arold adores his family and would cross Heaven and Hell for them- even literally.

Destiny Evelyn Wade (Born September 18, 1874. ISTP. 5w4) was always a curious, adventurous child. She always peppers questions into conversations just to hear people talk about themselves and their lives, and even as a little girl, Destiny enjoyed getting her favorite shoes scuffed from running around, playing adventure games with her friend, Lucy. She also happened to be a very talented writer, and wanted to use her skills one day. When she was 14, Destiny stumbled into an incident worthy of any penny dreadful, if not more so. Rather than abandon her dreams, however, Destiny continued forward, and eventually became a travel writer and journalist for the Old English Graph. She enjoys traveling the world, and learning new things- from languages and cultures to mythos and stories. Even if they get her into trouble.

Lucas Ebenezer Wade (Born April 3, 1881. ENFP. 4w5) is a boy with an open heart and open mind who always looks on the bright side of everything and is willing to play peacemaker between his overly ambitious brother and his incredibly stubborn sister. Despite his kindness, Lucas has been through struggles of his own. When he was only four years old, he became very ill, and when the illness left, it took his ability to walk with it. For four years, Lucas was bedridden and kept indoors, unable to go outside for too long. It wasn’t until Arold and his friend, Jack Seward, successfully created a pair of leg braces that connected to Lucas’s nervous system and allowed him to walk and run, though there are days where he can’t stand for too long. Nevertheless, this doesn’t stop Lucas from his hope for a brighter future and his adoration for the people around him… even if he does come off as a little awkward. He enjoys playing with his dog, Lawrence the Third; painting and sketching; and giving his siblings surprise visits.

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lovecolibri · 2 years

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In a complete normal reaction to the idea of having to watch B&L flirt on my screen... My stomach started hurting lmao.

I can't do that I'm not bi enough I'm going to strangle Kr*ten for doing this to me 🙃

Oh Nonnie, I absolutely feel you! The though makes me nauseous and also SO angry because it would have been watchable and maybe even a little fun IF Buck had already broken up with his gf. I am having some thinky thoughts about why we couldn't get the narrative satisfaction on that breakup (m*luca=bucktaylor breakup anon, I see you!! And I'm going to answer to you today, I just have a lot of feelings), but overall I think it comes down to the person in charge using these female characters as their beloved pet self-insert characters, and refusing to acknowledge that they are awful characters and actively thwarting the narrative to fit in what they want 🤷‍♀️ (Tina, I also have your C*rina=KR ask that I'm working on as well, I promise!)

It's just irritating because the "hooked up with some rando I met in a bar and now Woops! that person is my boss/bosses child/coworker etc etc etc" can be such a fun trope and as much as it would still make me side eye the writers for giving Buck a female replacement for Eddie that he's immediately allowed to make out with after a daring rescue involving a bomb, at least it would be watchable and could have some fun and funny moments. Now it's just going to be incredibly gross.

I'm trying to both hold out hope that this strong reaction will result in some changes, while also bracing myself for it to be...incredibly awkward and awful. Though I suppose I should be somewhat grateful because if they HAD gone that route, the GA might adore L and actually want to keep her around. As it is, literally everyone is tired of her character already, no on wants to see her anywhere near Buck, much less watch the two of them making goo-goo eyes at each other so I'm thinking the best we can hope for is that they change course and she's gone by the end of the season. But given that this is KR new pet project character and they already showed their ENTIRE asses with those 700 interview hyping her character up and shoving her down our throats, I'm not holding my breath that she's going to want to admit that she fucked up THIS badly. (seriously, this ep has a lower rating than Ghost Stories which was the worst episode by more than half a star to the next lowest-rated episode. It took 5x11 nearly a week to break 5 stars an most of the comments I saw stated that it was entirely due to b/l ruining the episode. So we shall see!)

#my sweet nonnie friends #911 #911 spoilers #anti lucy donato #anti bucklucy #anti bluck

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 111

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War (sorry if this chapter isn’t that dramatic.... I can promise the next one will be....

Notes: make sure that you have read chapter 110. That chapter didn’t have the taglist with it.

Steve and Sam eventually made it out with an unconscious Bucky in tow. Hidden in some abandoned building. Steve was watching through a gap at a chopper flying overhead.

“Hey, Cap!” Sam called. Steve went over to join his friend, who was near Bucky. Bucky was sitting with his arm in a vice.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asked.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah… You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

“Can’t read that in a museum.”

“Just like that, we’re suppose to be cool?” Sam questioned.

“What did I do?” Bucky asked.

“Enough.”

“Was Y/N…”

“The whispers is that you attacked her.”

“Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don't know.’”

“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?”

“Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier.”

~~~

Slowly blinking, Y/N let her eyes focus on her surroundings. She was on a plane. A Stark plane. She felt someone’s hand on hers. She looked over to see Tony’s hand on hers, head hung low.

“Where—“ She swallowed. “Where are we going?”

“Oh my—“ He quickly stood up and held a kiss to her forehead. “You… I can’t even… You shouldn’t have gone near him.”

“I had to try…”

“Doesn’t matter. His life is not worth yours.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Home.”

Y/N watched Tony for a second. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.” She sat up. “They got away, didn’t they? And you’re going to go after them.”

“I have to.”

“Please, Tony, stop this before it’s too late. Don’t wait until someone gets hurt and the team is completely destroyed.”

“I just doing what I have to do. And so should you.”

“What should I do?”

“Stay at home until this is all settled.”

“You’re going to keep me as a prisoner? Keep me locked away. You can’t to that.”

“That’s why I’m not telling you where I’m going. To keep you safe.”

“To keep me safe, or to keep me from protecting Steve and Bucky?”

“To keep you safe! Y/N, damn it! Look at your neck! Those bruises are in a literal shape of a hand! I don’t think they’ll disappear for weeks. Your precious Bucky did that to you, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Tony, if you do something to harm them, either of them, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Tough sweetheart, because I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt like that again.”

~~~

The compound was all but locked down. Vision and FRIDAY were both keeping an eye on both Y/N and Wanda. Y/N was worried about where Steve, Bucky, and Tony were, and if they were being stupid. Y/N and Wanda weren’t able to fall asleep, so they were in the kitchen. Vision was hovering in the corner, seemingly asleep, or as asleep as an android can be.

Suddenly, the three were on alert. An explosion in the distance lit up the room for a moment. They hurried to the window to see another explosion near the fence line.

“What is it?” Wanda asked.

“Stay here, please,” Vision pled before disappearing.

Once Vision was gone the two women sensed a different presence behind them. Wanda compelled a knife to fly across the room. They turned to see it stop in front of Clint’s head and him flick it away.

“Guess I shoulda knocked,” he commented.

“Oh my god!” Wanda exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Disappointing my kids.” He shot arrows to both sides of the room. “I’m supposed to go water skiing.”

“Clint,” Y/n called, the worry extremely evident. “What’s going on?”

“Cap needs our help,” he answered, grabbing Wanda’s hand. “Come on.” Wanda grabbed Y/N’s hand as they began to head out of the room.

“Clint!” Vision greeted, appearing through the wall behind them. “You should not be here.”

“Really?” Clint retorted, him and the others turning back around. “I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit.”

“Please consider the consequences of your actions.”

“Okay, they’re considered.” Suddenly, the arrows Clint previous shot, catch Vision in a force field. “Okay, we really gotta go.” Wanda stepped towards Vision as Clint grabbed Y/N’s hand. He began to led her to the door. They stopped when they noticed Wanda wasn’t moving. “It’s this way.”

“I’ve caused enough problems,” Wanda responded, nervously playing with her sleeves.

Leaving Y/N at the door, Clint jogged back over to Wanda. “You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you wanna mope, can go to high school. You wanna make amends, you get off your ass. Shit.”

Vision broke the force field with the Mind Stone. Quickly, he punched Clint to the floor, but Clint recovered.

“I knew I should’ve stretched,” Clint groaned.

He extended a baton and tried to hit Vision but the blows went right through him. Clint resorted to punches before trying the baton again. It broke. Clint tried to kick Vision, but his leg wen right through him. Vision then quickly got Clint into a headlock.

“Clint, you van’t overpower me,” Vision warned.

“I know I can’t,” Clint responded. “But they can.”

They look up to see Wanda and Y/N standing side by side, Wanda’s red glow between her hands.

“Vision, that’s enough,” Wanda said. “Let him go. We’re leaving.”

“I can’t let you,” Vision replied.

Wanda held her hands apart, glowing with energy, forcing Clint to slip from Vision’s grasp. He grabbed Y/N and pulled her away as Wanda forced Vision to the ground.

“How far a long are you?” Clint whispered.

“What?” Y/N gasped, looking at Clint with surprise.

“My wife’s had three kids. I know the tells.”

“Five weeks.”

“Does anyone know?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you’re staying here. I’m not putting you or the baby in harms way. And I know Steve wouldn’t want that either.”

“No, I can—“

A crash is heard. They flinch as they turn to see that Wanda as forced Vision through several floors of the compound.

“If you stay here,” Clint turned back to Y/N, hands on her shoulders, “I won’t say a word. If you come or follow, I’ll tell everyone and they’ll force you to stay put anyway.”

~~~~

Vision disappeared out of the hole not long after Clint and Wanda had left. Y/N couldn’t stop worrying, pacing, rounding every inch of the compound. FRIDAY had blocked her from being able to contact any of her teammates or watch any news channels. It was late into the afternoon of the next day when she finally was contacted. She had just barely fallen asleep on the couch when FRIDAY announced the incoming call.

“Y/N?” Natasha panicked voice filled her room. She was immediately on alert.

“Nat? Are you okay? What happened?”

“It got bad. There was a fight at the airport in Berlin. Sam, Clint, and Wanda are in jail. Bucky and Steve made it to the quinjet to go—I don’t even know where.”

“What? How did this happen?“

“And Rhodey was extremely hurt. Tony’s in the other room waiting for the results, but it doesn’t look good. I think he’ll go after them next. The only way to stop him is if you go with Bucky and Steve to wherever it is they’re headed. Tony will trust you if you’re with them.”

“Nat, I don’t—“

“I’m not asking you to pick a side. I’m asking you to save your family.” Y/N’s hand went straight to her stomach. “To save your child’s family.”

“How did you…”

“You were in the bathroom for way too long, Y/N. And I’ve noticed how your hand falls to your stomach. Do they know?”

“Only Clint and you.”

“You need to tell them before it’s too late.”

“I know… Thanks for the information, Nat. I’m assuming you helped them escape.”

“I did. Have to go on the run now.”

“Stay safe, Nat.”

“You too.”

The call ended and Y/N took a deep breath. Bucky and Steve had taken a quinjet from Berlin, the same quinjet Y/N had arrived there in. So she could create a portal there. It was just bracing herself for the inevitable vomiting that would follow. Opening the portal, she rushed through, stumbling into the quinjet.

“What the—“ Bucky immediately turned around, pointing a gun in Y/N’s direction. He lowered it when he saw her vomiting in the corner. “Y/N?” He hurried forward, kneeling beside her. “How did you— are you okay?”

“Y/N,” Steve rushed to her other side. A hand found the way to her back, gently rubbing up and down. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” she panted. She straightened up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I’ll be fine.”

“Is there something going on with your powers?”

“I’m fine, Steve, really. How are you guys?”

“Really Y/N?” Bucky questioned. “You just appeared through a portal and began to vomit. I don’t think you’re okay.” As he looked her over, his eyes found their way to her neck. “No,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” His flesh hand came up, hesitant to touch the bruise. Y/N grabbed his hand and led it to her bruise. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, Buck. I’m okay.”

“I promised to never hurt you and I keep doing it. Leaving for war, falling into HYDRA’s hands, back in DC, now this…”

“Bucky,” Steve called, slowly, watching the interaction. “How much to you actually remember?”

“I remember Y/N the most. Not everything, but I remember the feelings when we were together the strongest.”

“You remember me the most?” Y/N repeated quietly.

“Something happened the moment we met eyes in DC. Things kept creeping back.”

“Oh, Buck.” Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around Bucky. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Steve asked, again.

She pulled away from Bucky, so that she could see both men. “Nat called me and told me what happened. I came to help.”

“You know that you can’t go back after this, right?”

“I may be able to get us all home safety and talk everyone down. I just need to see this through to be able to explain it and help the cause.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I think you are safer staying in the quinjet.”

“Not a chance, Buck. If there’s a way I can bring you home, I’m going to do it.”

“I don’t think I’m worth all this.” He looked down into his lap.

Y/N guided her hand under Bucky’s chin, gently guided it up so that they were looking into each others eyes. “I think you’re worth it. I always have.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #iron man x reader #captain america x reader #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel imagine #tony stark imagine #avengers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #captain america civil war #civil war

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enthusiasticharry · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i feel like i've been waiting years for this to happen when it has only been a few months or so but here it is! feels like home is finally here and i couldn't be more excited. this fic is literally like my child, just like checkmate was, but it does hit closer to home because there are some subjects and topics discusses that are things that happened to me or close to me, so i feel as though i have to protect it with my entire life. but please, do enjoy this not so brief introduction to feels like home, christian and luisa and their little world.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, mentions of anxiety, depression and heavy injury. mentions of a car crash.

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐍𝐄 here

“Christian!” The sound of her name rings through the entire Bed and Breakfast with how loud her sister screams it.

“What?”

“Have you seen my phone?” Christian sighs, leaning over the table that she was sat at to grab Luisa’s phone that was on the other side, holding it out for her sister. Luisa manoeuvres her wheelchair to the side of the table, “Thank you!”

“Welcome.” Christian mutters, leaning her chin back onto the palm of her hand as she scrolls through the Lodge’s booking system.

The booking system, apart from a few weekend bookings from the odd elderly couple, was completely empty. September was always quite a slow time of the year for the Lodge, and the sisters had found that out the hard way last year, during their first year of being open, when nobody booked anything for the entire month. From what Christian remembers, there were only two walk-in customer’s during the month and they only stayed for a night or so. The fact that they only had two bookings didn’t cause her to worry as much as she did the year prior though, because they had just had the biggest summer that they could ever imagine, and it was only their second year of fully being in business.

It had always been Luisa Flores’ dream to own her own Bed and Breakfast, but Christian had never, ever thought that she would be right beside her when she did it, but, she wouldn’t change it for the world now — she really wouldn’t.

Four years ago the sisters were coming home in the back of a taxi after going out for the night with their friends. They were drunk, but they weren’t driving and they never would whilst intoxicated, but they soon found out halfway through their journey that not everyone is the same. The driver hit the taxi that the Flores sisters were in on the right side as they drove through a junction, and completely destroyed Luisa and the driver’s side of the car. Christian doesn’t remember much from the accident apart from seeing a flashing light from the right side of her and then waking up in a hospital bed with her neck in a neck brace.

All she could think about was whether or not her sister was alive, and when none of the doctors would answer her Christian felt her entire world crumble around her. Even when her parents came, all they had been told was that Luisa had been rushed into emergency surgery and a doctor would be with them after to explain what was going on. Whilst they were waiting, Christian’s doctor came in and explained that she was going to have a scan and some x-rays to check that everything was alright with her. The results came back that Christian had three broken ribs and that her right arm had been fractured in three different places, but apart from that it was all cuts and bruises and she would make a full recovery.

Luisa, on the other hand, hadn’t been so lucky. Due to the car hitting them on her side, it had done unimaginable damage that Christian could only wish to take away from her sister. Luisa had lost one of her legs in the accident and lost all movement in the other, causing her to be wheelchair bound for the rest of her life. It changed their lives forever, and all Christian could ever think was that she should’ve sat on that side, not her sister.

If the accident did anything to their family, it brought them closer together. They had been talking one night whilst watching Gossip Girl for the thousandth time and Christian had brought up that when they were younger, all Luisa would ever talk about was owning her own Bed and Breakfast in the Lake District. At first, Luisa had dismissed the idea and said that it wouldn’t ever work because of her wheelchair and not being able to walk but if anything, it actually meant that Christian had more of a fire up her arse to make it happen for her sister. A lot of the things that Luisa wanted to do with her life she couldn’t anymore, but this thing, with Christian’s help, she could do.

They found the building that Little Lodge is now in a few months after deciding that they were going to start up their Bed and Breakfast and with help from their parents, they managed to get a deposit down and also managed to get themselves a mortgage. Before they knew it, they were opening their own little Bed and Breakfast.

It was a stressful experience at first, and Christian can’t lie and say that it isn’t stressful a lot nowadays as well, but it was certainly worse at the beginning. The majority of the time, Luisa did the front of house and Christian did everything else because it was just easier for the two of them and the dynamic of the Lodge. There was the odd time that the two of them would change their roles just to fit the situation but that was usually it. Christian loved the dynamic that they had created in Little Lodge more than anything else in her life. It was her new home, and she would never give it up, never.

“Have you heard anything from mamá about abuela?” Luisa asks after a few minutes or so, closing her phone and dropping it down onto her lap.

“No.” Christian shakes her head, swirling in the desk-chair that she was sat in so that she was facing her older-sister, “Mamá said that she’d message if there were any updates but I haven’t heard anything. Papá said that they’re still waiting for the scan results.”

“That’s shit.” Luisa adds and Christian nods her head, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, “She had the scan hours ago, didn’t she?”

“Papá said that abuela went in for the scan at around six this morning, and they’ve been waiting and waiting but nothing yet.”

Christian sighs and shrugs her shoulders whilst Luisa shakes her head. Christian and Luisa’s abuela still lived in Seville, where their mother is originally from and she had recently started to get quite sick so their parents decided that it was probably best that the two of them go and visit her for an extended amount of time whilst she had tests done and they figured out what was wrong with her. It was nerve-wracking for the girls, that they weren’t able to be with her family and check that their abuela was okay but they couldn’t leave the Lodge, and they just hoped that their abuela understood that.

“Ay Dios mio.” Luisa shakes her head again, “Mamá must be going out of her mind.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” Christian shrugs, “We’ve all seen how bad she’s gotten over the past few years. As much as I hate to admit it, I have a suspicion that it isn’t going to be the best news.”

“Christian!” Luisa raises one of her eyebrows as she looks at her younger sister, “Don’t think like that. We have to stay positive.”

Christian raises one of her eyebrows at her sister, “Positive? I’m just telling the truth, Lu.”

“I know you are.” Her sister pushes again, “But don’t you go saying that to mamá, that might be the end for her.”

“Like I would.” Christian leans forward and thumps her sister on the shoulder, but composes herself when she notices the last couple that they have staying in the Lodge for the summer make their way to the desk to check out. Luisa raises one of her eyebrows at Christian, who just responds to her sister with a roll of her eyes.

As the couple walk towards the front of the desk, Christian swivels around in her chair so that she’s facing the front again and offers them a large smile, “Morning, how are you both? Did you sleep well?”

“We did, thank you.” The man responds walking over and placing the keys to their room down on the counter, “Sad to be leaving, that’s for sure.”

“We’re sad to see you go, too.” Christian offers them a sad smile whilst she tries to find their booking on the system, “But I’m sure we’ll see you again, yeah?”

“Yeah, you certainly will.” The man laughs and Christian nods her head.

Christian sends their receipt to print and holds her hand out, waiting for the sheets to come out. Once they have, she staples their version together, and the Lodge’s versions together and opens them to the page they need to sign and passes them a pen.

“Can you sign on the dotted line and date, please?” She asks and the man nods, “It’s just a confirmation of payment and then you’ll get another one when we’ve cleaned the room and sent your deposit back.”

The man nods and signs the two pages before passing them back to Christian. She finishes the process and then gives them their receipt and wishes them a good day and safe travel. That was the last couple to leave the Lodge, and that meant that Summer was officially over and that they wouldn’t see as many customers as they had in a long time, probably not until October Half-Term when all of the schools in England broke up for a week. Once the door had closed behind them, Christian turned back to her sister who was looking at her with a silly smile on her face.

“What?”

“You’ve gotten better at that, you know?” Luisa says, moving forward so that she can slip underneath the desk with Christian, “You stuttered so much when we first opened.”

“That’s just ‘cos I was nervous.” Christian shrugs, “I didn’t want to fuck it up. Now, I don’t care. I don’t think I can fuck anything up.”

“Uh, let's agree to disagree with that one. There’s still things that you’d be able to fuck up. You get too nervous and word-vomit.”

“Thanks for reminding me of that, Lu. I really appreciate it.”

“Hey.” Luisa knocks Christian’s shoulder with hers, “What are sisters for?”

As far as a sibling relationship went, Christian and Luisa were as close as sisters could be. This had been both before and after the accident. There were only two years between them, and Christian sometimes wondered whether or not it was how close the two of them were in age that meant they were so close. They would do everything together when they were younger, and of course they had arguments and fought at little things that didn’t matter but at the end of the day they were still sisters. That was certainly one of the reasons why they made it through sorting out the Lodge without killing each other, because Christian doesn’t believe they’ve ever argued as much as they did when they were trying to sort the Lodge out, but they made it through without actually hitting one another which is better than they could say for before the accident.

They were minding their business when the computer pinged. It was loud, and it caused the two of them to sit up and stare at the screen with their eyebrows furrowed.

“Is that—?” Luisa asks.

“— I don’t know.” Christian leans forward and places her hand on the mouse, moving so that she could close the tab that she had opened and move to the booking-system app, which had been the one to make the noise.

“Has someone booked?” Luisa looked just as confused as Christian was and when she looked at the system, she saw that someone had actually booked.

As Christian flickered her eyes over the booking her mouth parted open in shock, “Holy shit.”

“What? What is it?” Luisa moves closer to Christian and focuses her eyes on the screen, “Ay Dios mio.”

Not only had someone booked in September of all months, but they had booked for the entire month. At first Christian thought that her eyes had been deceiving her and that this wasn’t the case at all. The more that she looked at the booking, the more that she realised that it was real and someone actually had booked to stay at their Lodge in the month of September.

“Holy Fuck.” Christian couldn’t help the profanities as they slipped from her lips, then parting in shock when she finally read the full confirmation.

Christian had expected to see that the booking would be for a few days, probably three at most, but when she saw that it was for the entire month. The entire fucking month, she felt her heart stop. Whoever this person was, H.Styles as the booking says, wanted to come and stay at their Lodge for the entire month. The most they’ve ever had was a week before, and that was during the height of summer when the kids were off school. To say that the two sisters were in shock would certainly be an understatement.

“Is this a joke?” Luisa asks, obviously just as dumbfounded as Christian at what she was looking at, “This can’t be real.”

“It looks like it.” Christian starts to scroll through the information that had been given, “The email, card. Everything.”

“You search him on Insta, I’ll do Facebook.”

Christian immediately takes her phone out and opens Instagram, typing in H.Styles to see if anything comes up, but it doesn’t. No matter how much Christian scrolls through all of the profiles that come up from the search as well. At the same time, one of these profiles could be of the person coming to stay at their Lodge in the next few days, Christian just didn’t know. After she closed her phone and placed it face down on the table, she looked up at Luisa who had her face too close to the screen of her own phone as she looked at something.

“Think you’ve found him?” Christian asks, leaning over her sister's shoulder to look at the profile that she was on.

“I don’t know.” Luisa mumbles, passing her phone to her sister, “Maybe this could be him.”

The profile that Luisa showed her sister was one of the profiles that look as if they aren’t used at all, but it’s actually just because they have a private account. The profile picture looked to be of a man, maybe around Christian’s age, or maybe Luisa’s but they couldn’t tell because the photo only showed the side of his face. From what Christian could also tell, the photo seemed to have been taken in a museum of some sort, and it looked almost serene.

“Could be.” Christian shrugs her shoulders, “I suppose we’ll know in two days.”

Luisa sighs and drops her head back, “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait that long.”

“Shut it.” Christian shakes her head, thwacking her sister on the shoulder, “Have a little patience. Why do you care anyway?”

“Well excuse me for being curious on who the person is who’s going to feed us in September and October.” Luisa shakes her head before moving herself backwards, “I’m going to check some things with Yani, are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Christian shrugs her shoulders, giving her a small smile, “Have fun. Let me know if you hear anything about abuela.”

“Same to you.”

Christian gives her sister one last smile as she ventures back inside and towards the kitchen, before she places her attention back onto the booking in front of her. This was certainly going to be one for the record books, whether Christian and Luisa knew that yet or not.

As Christian sat drinking the coffee that she had made herself a few minutes prior, she quickly realised that it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink coffee at a time like this.

Christian’s social anxiety certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been, but it still wasn’t the best. Christian’s mother has said from her being a young child that she can talk for England if it’s to someone who she knows and trusts, but the second that it’s to someone who she doesn’t know and doesn’t feel comfortable with, she’s nervous and awkward and will only speak if she’s spoken to. The accident certainly didn’t help, and for a while Christian only spoke to her family and doctors but she bounced back from that quicker than anyone could have imagined, and she guessed that was because of Little Lodge and how it brought Christian out of her comfort zone.

Just because Christian was better than she had been, it certainly didn’t mean that she was completely cured because that wasn’t the case, not even a little bit. She would still fumble on her words, albeit not as much as she used to, but it would still happen. More often than not Christian wouldn’t speak unless she was spoken to and she tries her hardest to stay away from social situations that she knew would stress her out, because that wasn’t good for anyone.

One of the little worries that she had picked up since opening the Lodge, though, was whenever they had somebody book online and Christian wasn’t distracted enough to not think about it, that would be all that she would think about. Sometimes she would get herself into some quite horrible states worrying about the types of people that were going to walk through their doors, but Christian had to remind herself that speculation isn’t the right thing to do and that she can’t let herself worry like that unless that is actually something to worry about — obviously that doesn’t mean she completely stops doing it.

That was one of the reasons why Christian hadn’t slept at all last night, and why when she woke up this morning she felt the need to make herself a large cup of coffee. The only thing was that the more caffeine that the girl drank, the more that her heart started to beat faster within her chest. At this moment in time, Christian didn’t know if it was more nerves or excitement that H.Styles was arriving today.

“You look like death.” Luisa says, as she stops her chair in front of the reception desk.

“Good morning to you too, Luisa.” Christian says sarcastically, lifting her eyes up from the screen to look directly at her sister, “Did you sleep well? Are you excited for today? How are you?”

“Yeah, yeah I get it.” She shakes her head and places her hands on the desk, “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“As you lovingly pointed out, I look like death, so no, I didn’t.” Christian explains, unable to stop herself from letting out a large yawn.

“You need to sleep, Chris.” Luisa shakes her head, “I get that you worry but it certainly isn’t worth losing sleep over.”

“I know.” Christian offers her sister a small smile, “I’m not gonna be able to ever stop doing it, I hope you know that.”

“I know.” Luisa nods her head, “And I’m sure you know that I’m going to keep telling you that you look like death.”

Christian grins, “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Luisa’s phone pings before she can say anything else, and Christian knows that it’s probably time for her to leave. Luisa and her girlfriend, Elsa, have had this day planned as their date day for a long time, and Christian wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of their day.

Luisa and Elsa have been together for three years now. They met when Luisa went away to Sweden for a few weeks with her friends from school. Elsa had been visiting her family and they met through a confusing line of mutual friends that Christian had very little interest in learning about. All Christian cared about was that her sister was happy, and if Elsa was the person to do that then that was all Christian wanted in life. When the accident happened, Luisa had been worried that Elsa wouldn’t want to be with her anymore, and no matter how many times Christian reassured her sister that Elsa wouldn’t do that and that she loved her, Luisa just believed that wasn’t the case. As Christian had reassured her sister, Elsa didn’t leave. In fact, Elsa did everything that she could to help Luisa.

For Christian, Luisa and Elsa were the epitome of what she wanted in life. She wanted someone to look at her the way they look at each other, and love her like they love each other.

“El’s here.” Luisa grinned as she looked at her sister again, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? We can stay if you want, go out later.”

“No!” Christian exclaimed, shaking her head, “You’re not cancelling because of this. I’ll be fine. You two enjoy yourself.”

Luisa looks at her sister and raises one of her eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Completely positive?”

“Luisa!” Christian exclaims, shaking her head, “Go to your girlfriend, everything will be fine.”

“Okay.” Christian stood up and made her way towards her sister, pressing a kiss to her cheek and then making her way over to the door and opening it for her. Christian can see Elsa’s car parked at the end of the street and she smiles at the sight, “I’ll see you later. Message me if you need me.”

“Will do. Have fun.”

Christian watches for a little while longer, just checking that Luisa actually makes it to Elsa. Once she sees the car door open and Elsa steps out, Christian takes it as her cue to go back inside. There aren’t any guests staying at the Lodge at this exact time, so it feels a little odd to Christian that someone will be coming tonight and that they’re going to be staying for the entire month, and be the only guest that they have for a while.

Yesterday, seeing as though it was the only day that Christian had been given to prepare, she made a start on deciding which room she was going to give H.Styles and started to get it ready. Luisa had spent the day at reception so that Christian could do that, only face-timing her every once in a while so that she could see what Christian was doing to the rooms.

A part of Christian often felt guilty when it came to the two rooms that were on the upper floor of the Lodge. They were the largest and fanciest rooms in Christian’s opinion, but due to the narrow staircase Luisa had never been able to go up and see them in real life so she had to settle for Christian’s shaky camera work on facetime.

Christian had to choose between rooms Seda and Luz which were both nice for different reasons. She supposes that she is biased because she designed these rooms and helped decorate them more as her own than the rooms downstairs. Due to Luisa not being able to go up to decorate the rooms, Christian had basically been given free reign of the rooms to do whatever she wanted with them. When it came to the names of the rooms, Seda and Luz, which mean silk and light in Spanish, Christian knew that she wanted to incorporate some form of each of the words into the decoration of the room.

When it came to Seda, Christian made the main colour combination in the room a dark grey and peach colour and incorporated the silk in with the curtains and the cushions that were used as decoration. Everything matches and isn’t too cluttered in the rooms, which is one of the things that Christian loves about being able to decorate her own rooms. The second room, Luz, she decided to make the accents in the room navy blue, including an accent wall which was a pain in Christian’s arse to paint, but once it was finished it really did bring the room together. The vocal point of the room, though, had to be the different exposed light bulbs that light up the room: there were three on the ceiling, and other lamps assorted throughout the room.

Christian had ended up cleaning and making sure that both rooms were adequate. She changed the sheets, hoovered, placed down fresh towels, dusted and did basically everything else that she could to not only distract herself but make the rooms ready for when H.Styles arrived.

Luisa always used to say, whenever they spoke about the Bed and Breakfast that she were going to own before the accident happened, that she reckoned that the cleaning and the upkeep portion would be the worst and for a while Christian thought the same, but she quickly came to realise that truly wasn’t the case. Christian loved to clean and make sure that everything was tidy for whenever the guests arrived and after having a little more thought about it, Christian believed that the reason she enjoyed cleaning was because it gave her time to relax and not think about everything else in her life. She often had her headphones on with music playing, or maybe even a podcast every now and then. Christian couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment in her life where she became an old woman, but she couldn’t say that she minded.

She decided that the best thing that she could do is wait until H.Styles arrived for her to make any decisions about which room she thought would be the best. Of course, Christian wouldn’t know anything about him by just checking him in she would at least be given a slight indication of which room he may enjoy more.

Christian had no idea what time H.Styles would be arriving, and that was one of the things that was creating a bit of suspense. She was checking their books and making sure everything was in line and at any given second he could arrive and she would meet the person who had booked to stay there for the entire month. Christian believed that maybe that was why she spent a lot of her time wondering about who was coming to stay with them, because who would need to stay in their little corner of the Lake District for that amount of time, who would need to do that?

If there was one thing that Christian certainly wasn’t doing it was complaining. This man, whoever he was and for whatever reasons he was doing this, would be paying their bills and giving them enough money to keep themselves going for a little while longer, or at least until October Half-Term.

Christian quickly learnt that there wasn’t going to be much for her to do but sit and wait, and due to her being on her own in the Lodge, she saw no issues with connecting her phone to her speakers and blasting out music into the room. Luisa always said that Christian had a weird taste in music, but Christian just said that it was eclectic.

The thing about Christian, especially when it came to her music, was that she listened to everything. If someone recommended a song, she’d listen to it, and if she liked that song then she’d listen to it again and again. She would never say that she wouldn’t listen to a song just because it’s country, or that she doesn’t like this artist very much so she won’t listen to it either. If a song is a good song, and she likes it, then she’d listen to it. That did mean that Christian’s playlists were a little all over the place, and no matter how hard she tried to organise them, it just wasn’t possible.

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John was the song blasting through the speakers at this time, a classic if Christian said so herself. She had done everything work wise that she needed to do, so she spent her time reading one of the books that she had picked up from the bookstore in the village: one about love, death and everything in between. It was good, but it wasn’t one of her favourites, but she’d definitely finish reading it just to see how it ended.

She was completely submerged in the words on the page, and the words floating around her ears when the door opened. In fact, she hadn’t noticed the man walking closer to the desk until she saw movement from over the pages of her book which caused her lips to part open in shock slightly. Her eyes flickered to the time on the computer, and it read that it was just past one in the afternoon, and she was shocked to say the least that he was already there.

Christian abandoned her book and threw it down, hoping that she’d at least get to remember where she was in the book because the pages had closed, and clicked her phone on so she could pause the music. Her eyes then flickered up to the man who was standing above her, and she couldn’t help her lips parting as she then looked him up and down. She was trying not to stare, she really was, but she wasn’t doing a very good job of it to say the least.

From what Christian could see, he was wearing a denim flat-cap on his head with brown curls peeking out of the bottom. He was also wearing sunglasses over his eyes, but she watched him take them off and they were now placed on the top of the reception desk. She could only see just under his chest, but he was wearing a red and blue striped shirt and a blue jacket. Christian couldn’t help but wonder whether or not he liked the colour blue, since he was wearing quite a lot of it.

“Hi.” Christian couldn’t help the sheepish smile that crossed her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Sorry about that, how can I help you?”

“M’Harry.” The man says, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he does so. Harry, “I made a booking a few days ago, I’m here to check in.”

Christian nods her head, “I’ll just get that up for you."

She wiggles the mouse to wake the computer up and quickly types in the password so that their systems come back up. Christian’s a little embarrassed to say the least that their systems weren’t already up but she wasn’t expecting him to arrive yet, so she hadn’t prepared for it. Once the system is loaded up and she has his booking, she offers him another smile.

One of the things that Christian had prepared though was the bill that he has to sign beforehand with the deposit on it that states that he’ll get the deposit money back if the room is left unharmed.

“Can you sign and date on the dotted line, please?” She asks, giving him the sheet of paper and a pan. She watches as he signs H.Styles, in a beautiful penmanship if she does say so herself, and then passes back to her.

She clicks a few more buttons on the computer before opening the drawer and starting to flicker through the keys, “One room, for thirty nights.”

Christian tries to hide the shock in her voice when she says how long he’s staying but she certainly doesn’t do a good job of it. As Christian flickered through the keys, she finally landed on the one that she had been waiting for, the one for Luz. It seemed like an obvious choice in Christian’s mind when she saw what he was wearing to pick Luz, so that’s the one she decided upon.

“That’s right.” Harry nods his head.

“Great.” Christian sighs with a smile on her face, trying her hardest not to make the situation more awkward than it was, “I’ll, uh, show you to your room.”

He nods his head and she watches as he picks up the suitcases that she hadn’t even noticed he had with him and followed her towards the staircase. She was starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the fact that he was walking behind her, watching her and she couldn’t see what his face looked like. That was certainly why, and not because she had noticed that he had quite the handsome face.

Once she made it up to Luz, and she had turned the light switch on so that they wouldn’t be fumbling around in the dark trying to find where they were going, she used the key in her hand to open the door. Christian walked in first, just because there wasn’t enough room on the narrow landing for them both to stand and manoeuvre around each other — Christian had learnt that the hard way.

She placed the key on the cabinet in the room, and then turned to look at Harry who had just placed his suitcases down on the ground. He looked around the room for a little while and then moved to the window, looking out before turning to Christian.

“It’s lovely.”

Christian nodded her head in thanks, “Breakfast is from seven to nine everyday in the conservatory. I’ll, uh, leave you to get settled in and I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you.”

The second Christian walks out of the room and closes the door behind her, she lets out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t even known she had been holding.

Christian messaged Luisa that he had arrived but she received no reply. She didn’t think too much of it, because she knew that whenever Elsa and Luisa were together they were so completely obsessed with each other that nothing can distract them. Luisa knows though that if she doesn’t give Christian an update of their whereabouts by five then Christian would start to worry — they had four hours before Christian would start to worry.

For a little while Christian didn’t put her music back on, and she listened to the creeks of the ceiling as Harry moved around above her.

He didn’t give anything away of who he was, or why he was there but at the same time Christian made no indication of wanting to know anything. If Luisa would have been here when he arrived, that would probably be a completely different story. Luisa would’ve gotten some information out of him, Christian knew it for certain. She wondered who he was, and what he was doing here, but she wouldn’t ask him.

When the creeks of the ceilings stopped and there wasn’t anything else for Christian to listen to, she turned her music back on and picked up her book. It took her a while to locate where she was, having just thrown it on the side earlier when she noticed that he was there but she soon found the page she was up to. The words, as much as Christian tried to digest them, just weren’t going into her head in the way that they had been.

Christian wasn’t playing the music as loud as she had been earlier, mainly because she wanted to hear and listen when he started moving again, and when he eventually came downstairs. He had to come down at some point, seeing as though he had to eat and even though they serve breakfast at the Lodge, they don't serve lunch or dinner just yet. It was something that Christian and Luisa had been looking into, but it takes more work than they could have ever imagined to make something like that work.

Around two hours after Harry first arrived, she heard movement upstairs and towards the landing that caused her heart to skip a beat. Christian quickly turned her music off, and managed to place her bookmark in her book before he walked into the reception. She tried not to make it obvious and she placed her hand on the mouse of her computer as though she had been doing something, but she wasn’t the best actress and she was sure that it was completely obvious what she had been doing.

He gave her a smile as he walked into the room and towards the desk, and she tried not to seem awkward when she gave him one back but she was sure that she’d failed at that too.

“Is everything okay?” She asks, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

He nods his head, “Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just. . . I was just wondering whether you had any recommendations of places to eat.”

“Oh, uh, I do know of some good places.” She nods her head, “What food do you like? Then I know what to recommend.”

“I’ll eat anything, to be honest.” He chuckles, a smile crossing his lips. He had dimples.

“Uh, well, there’s a good Italian restaurant about a mile from here.” Christian shrugs, “I can call you a taxi, if you would like.”

“No, it’s fine.” He shrugs, “Have you got the postcode? Or some directions.”

“Yeah, it’s just down the road.” She points to the left, “If you go over the bridge and just follow the road for a mile or so, you can’t miss it. It’s called Galileo’s.”

“Thank you.” He smiles and turns to walk towards the door.

He opens the door and then moves to the side, stopping his actions. Christian furrows her eyebrows as she watches everything unfold. Luisa and Elsa walk through the opened door, smiling at Harry as they do so before turning to look at Christian with wide eyes. The two of them look over their shoulder and watch as the door shuts behind Harry as he leaves, and their eyes immediately fall to Christian again who’s looking at them with her teeth clamped firmly on her bottom lip.

“Oh. My. God.” Luisa slowly makes her way towards Christian, stopping when she’s finished saying the last word, “You failed to mention in your message that the man was basically a Greek God, Christ Christian.”

“Do you really think that me of all people would say that?” Christian sighs and shakes her head.

Elsa shakes her head, “Chris wouldn’t say that, Lu. You know that.”

Luisa accepts her girlfriend’s hand on her shoulder with a kiss, “Doesn’t mean it’s any less true though. Did he tell you anything?”

“His name is Harry.”

Luisa doesn’t blink as she looks at her sister, “That’s it? That’s all he said?”

“That’s all he said.” Christian nods her head, “He just came down to ask for a recommendation of places to eat and I told him to go to Galileo’s.”

“Jeez.” Elsa sucks a breath through her teeth and shakes her head, “Galileo’s? On the first night? Are you sure?”

“Galileo is harmless.” Christian shakes her head.

“He’s a nutcase.” Luisa sighs, shaking her head.

“He’s not.” Christian pouts, “He’s not around me, anyway.”

Elsa laughs and sits down on one of the couches that rest against the wall of the reception, “If he survive’s Galileo’s then he’ll survive staying here for an entire month, that’s for sure.”

“Hey!” Luisa whines, “We’re not that bad.”

“I’m not bad.” Christian’s quick to say after her sister, “You are though.”

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, missy.” Luisa says, lifting her hand up and pointing one of her fingers at her sister, “I’m still the older one in this situation.”

Elsa furrows her eyebrows and looks at her sister, “Are you sure about that?”

“Shut it, you.” Luisa shakes her head, turning her attention back to her sister, “If I were you, I’d just keep an eye on him. See if you can figure out anything about him.”

“I’m not going to stalk him, Luisa!”

“I wasn’t telling you to stalk him!” She exclaims back, “I was just telling you to observe, like a good host would.”

Elsa furrows her eyebrows from behind her girlfriend, “It sounds a lot like stalking to me.”

Luisa shakes her head, “I hate you both.”

Christian grins and tilts her head to the side, “You love us really.”

Although Christian would never admit it, watching and listening seemed like quite a good way of figuring out who this man was and why he was here. She wasn’t going to be stalking him though, just observing.

#first part of feels like home!! eek!!#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x oc #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles series #series

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