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#how am I supposed to show you that I love and appreciate you if I can't make you little thingies
a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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scoonsalicious · 1 day
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Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,
Word Count: 634
Previously On...: You and Bucky are probably going to be okay.
A/N: IT'S OUT EARLY!
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This is it! The last chapter! OMG!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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10 Months Later
“I refuse to accept this.”
“Well, unfortunately, Boss, it’s my decision to make, not yours,” you told Tony as you finished stacking up the last of your moving boxes. Sixteen years– almost half of your life, now condensed into neat stacks of cardboard, waiting to be loaded into the van that was waiting downstairs.
“What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” Tony asked, dramatically flinging himself on your now bare mattress. “How am I supposed to survive?”
You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not like you won’t see me every fucking day, dude,” you admonished him. “I still work here, for fucks’ sake. Besides, you refused to let your realtor show me any place you couldn’t see from your terrace.”
“I thought it would be nice if we could wave to each other during breakfast,” he said, his face drawn into a pout now, “that’s all.”
You sat down next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to cut the umbilical cord, Tony,” you said. 
“But you’re still such a kiddo, Kiddo,” he sighed.
“I meant your umbilical cord, Boss,” you laughed. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll try it for a year or two, figure out I absolutely hate it, and come crawling back, begging for my old room.”
“Don’t press your luck,” Tony said, sitting back up. “I’ll probably turn it into a sauna, or an indoor golf simulator as soon as you walk out that door.”
“Ah, there’s the Tony I know and tolerate,” you said with a smile.
“I’m just going to miss having you around,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “Sixteen years together– probably the longest stable relationship I’ve ever had. It’s not going to be the same around here without you.”
“I know,” you sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you know I need this. After everything that happened last year with Carthage, and Barnes… me spiraling, losing a baby I didn’t even know about, getting shot, and the… complications; all that shit with Steve. I just think I need a fresh start, some place where I’m not reminded of her every time I walk around a corner. It’s the only way I’m going to truly heal.”
“I told you I’d move you to another floor. Hell, I’ll tear down the entire Tower and start from scratch. We can build a whole new compound Upstate or something. You’d never have to set foot in this hallway again,” he said. And you knew he was telling the truth– there was little Tony wouldn’t do to ensure you were comfortable in your old home, but you couldn’t rely on him forever.
“You’ve saved me so many times already, Boss,” you said, looking back at him fondly, “and you know I’m always going to be thankful for that. But it’s time I started working on saving myself.”
“Well, when you make it sound all empowering and shit,” he began, “I start to feel like a dick for protesting.”
You laughed as your phone beeped. Looking at the message, you told him: “Movers are on the way up. I guess this is really it.” You both stood and embraced, Tony leaning down to speak softly in your ear.
“You know you always have a home here, Kiddo,” he said. “Whenever you need it. Even if it’s just for a night, or if you decide you want to come back for good. Door’s always open.”
“And even if it’s not,” you said as the two of you broke away from one another, “I can always hack the system to break myself in.”
“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”
“You think Mr. Mitchell’s still practicing law?” you asked with a grin. “I can definitely afford to have him represent me, now.”
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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The first time he went back --> Tamcien, ACOFAS
"Tamlin." Lucien's face was carefully neutral, his limbs loose, nothing in his scent or his body language giving away anything about how he felt to be standing before his once High Lord again.
"Lucien." Tamlin was relieved, at least, to see that his old friend had not adopted the Night Court fashion, opting for a blue and silver tunic instead. "I see you've been keeping this place clean in case I decided to come back," he said sarcastically. Then, there was a strong scent of rust and embers as Lucien began using his magic to move some things around. "There. At least it's somewhat livable now. Don't you have servants, Tamlin?"
Tamlin didn't fail to notice that Lucien called him by his full name rather than by his nickname. Lucien had called him Tam practically from the moment he'd arrived despite Tamlin's insistence that he show him the respect due of a High Lord, and decorum, blah blah blah. After some point, he stopped fighting it because he liked that Lucien had a special name only for him.
"Some. Most are too scared to question the state of the place. Many have left." Tamlin stared blankly at a wall. He had no fight left in him. All his anger had left him the moment he'd brought Rhysand back to life. There was no one left to be angry at. Nothing left to fight for.
Feyre had ruined him, and yet Tamlin had done that. Why? Why did he still love her? Why did it still hurt that she chose him? How long would she be able to hurt him?
As long as he loved her.
But how did he make it stop? How did he make this love go away, stop it from carving his heart out of his chest?
"You ignored me. After the war." That's what Lucien wanted to talk about? Surely he'd understood how painful it was to see him in Illyrian leathers, how painful it was to see him so quickly accepted as part of another group, how painful it was to see him away from him. For the longest time, Lucien had been his, and his alone. Now he had a mate and a whole other court and family. He wondered now if he had possibly taken Lucien for granted.
Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-
Little did either of them know how those words would turn out to be prophetic. Fitting, he supposed, with that seer mate of his.
"The sight of you in Illyrian leathers disgusted me," Tamlin replied dully. Lucien snorted. "What else was I to do? I didn't have anything else to wear; all my clothes were back here."
"You could've just stayed with me," Tamlin replied. A stupid thing to say, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Rhysand would never understand and appreciate Lucien's value like Tamlin could.
Lucien leaned back against a wall, putting his hands behind his head. "Right. And continue to watch you listen to the female who raped me over me, the person who not only loyally served you for centuries, but has connections to every damn court in Prythian. If I had a little more power, I could rule this whole damn place, I know so much."
Tamlin snarled. "Don't remind me of that. Believe me, I am well aware of my transgressions."
"Then surely you see why I had to leave. Even if my mate were not trapped in Night, your attitude would've eventually prompted me to leave."
My mate. The words sent shards of glass into his heart. "The mating bond is a curse," he rasped. It had to be. Why else would it mate his parents together, Rhysand's parents together, and his Feyre with Rhysand? Why would it mate Lucien with Elain, thus taking his Lucien away from him?
"The mating bond is a blessing from the Mother herself," Lucien insisted.
"Don't just blindly spit back the bullshit the temple taught you," Tamlin snapped. His claws emerged from beneath his skin, trembling rage filling his body. "God can offer us many beauties, sure, but we already know that She can also be cruel. Is it really so hard to believe that the mating bond is not what it's made out to be? Imagine a bond compelling you, forcing you to be with someone you don't want forever."
"Who said I don't want Elain?" Lucien whispered. Tamlin stilled. Those glass shards twisted in his heart a little bit more. "You think it's just a bond compelling me to stay with her? I thought you more intelligent than that, Tam." Tamlin squeezed his eyes shut, slumping against his chair. Heartbreak was all too familiar a feeling to him at this point.
"Look, Tamlin, I'm trying here," Lucien said, his voice sounding as though he were repressing some emotion. "I know it hurts, Tam. Please, let me help you. Don't push everyone away like you always do. Don't try to go it alone."
Tam.
As though drawn by a magnet, Tamlin's eyes lifted to Lucien's. The handsome lord stared at him with an earnestness that threatened to melt all that Tamlin was into nothing. He could never resist that soft look, and that wasn't about to change.
At last, he lost control. His shoulders caved in and he began to cry into his hands.
"Tam." Lucien closed the distance between them, kneeling before him. He placed his palms on Tamlin's cheeks, brushing away tears with his thumbs. "Don't cry," he murmured. "I'm here. I am here, I am with you."
Tamlin sniffed. "You should hate me."
His former emissary gently pulled him by the back of his head, pressing their foreheads together. "I know," he answered quietly. "But I don't."
He pulled away, offering a hand to stand up. "You look terrible, Tam. Have you been sleeping enough?"
Sighing, Tamlin shook his head. "Not really."
Lucien rolled his eyes. "Of course not. Go sleep, Tam."
Tamlin just crossed his arms over his chest, pouting. Lucien raised a brow at him, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh, I get it. You think because you're the High Lord, you can do whatever the hell you want. Well you know, Tam, there are several courts who'd pay an arm and a leg to have me working for them, so you'd better start listening to me more oft-"
The Spring Court lord grinned as the words sparked a far more pleasant memory of the two of them, leaping up in an instant. "As you wish, Lucien." The Autumn Court faerie smirked as he placed a hand on Tamlin's back, guiding him to the bedroom.
After tucking him in, Lucien was about to leave the room when Tamlin called out weakly, "Lu?"
He turned around, cocking his head. "Tam?"
Tamlin hesitated, a blush coming over his face. "Do you think- well could you...stay with me?"
Lucien sighed exasperatedly. "Just sleep, Tam."
"I can't. I've been trying for the past several days." Lucien took a deep breath, pinching his nose. "Fine. But don't expect to see me here when you get up."
"Ok." Lucien strode towards him and hopped onto the bed, leaning his head against the bedframe. Tamlin crawled towards him, placing his head on his lap. Lucien just scoffed.
"What are you, a six-year-old child?" he asked, but he ran his fingers through his blonde locks. Tamlin purred.
"After all this time, you still purr like a goddamn kitty cat whenever someone touches your hair," Lucien muttered, and those were the last words Tamlin heard before sleep overtook him at last.
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I just read your Yandere vampire OM brothers and I was wondering what about yan vampire Lucifer and MC who has a blood clotting problem like they cut their hand or whatever and the blood keeps pouring nothing you dramatic bit still like Woah u good??? (don't feel forced to do this btw, also I love ur writing!!!)
hey anon!! I sorry for being this late to your request, I hope my writing is a fine apology for that.
Haemophilia is one such genetic disorder where the person's blood doesn't clot easily. Although it is a reccessive gene, you were born with one. It did not pose much threat to you due to the advances in medical treatment keeping you alive for so long, so you never worried too much about it.
You did worry about it when you were asked to come to Devildorm for one year. "One whole year?? How am I supposed to survive there!?" You somehow managed to purchase almost months and months of medicines in your little suitcase, but ofc you were bound to run out of supplies in the far future.
Today was one such day. You counted the leafs of medicines left, and all of them were empty. You were being reckless by not keeping an eye on the medicine, and now you have none. Worried, you were trying not to panic in your small cozy room. After taking deep breaths, you came to a conclusion that asking Lucifer to help in this situation would be the best. With that, you went to the kitchen to fulfill Beel's craving of eating your handmade food.
The pot boiling with water and the sound of you cutting the vegetables filled the kitchen. "You called for me? Sorry I was busy with some student council work" you turn your head towards the source of the sound, a soft smile conquring your lips as you meet your eyes with him. He, with a click in his step and his long, black clock hanging from his broad shoulders came up to you and engulfed you in a hug. " how have you been MC?" he spoke in your ear as you continued your chopping. "I am well Lucifer, and yes I did call for you. I need to go back to the human world."
"But why?"
"Because I need to- ouch!"
You took your eyes off of the food to look at Lucifer, which was a bad idea because you now have a cut on your finger from moving the knife wrong. It hurt a bit, but to Lucifer, it seemed as if you have lost half of your body's blood.
"How could you be so careless!? Show me your finger" You could see that his eyes have started to dilate, his fangs have started to appear. Yet he is not even thinking about drinking blood. Instead his eyes, althought appearing to be bloodlustly, are actually filled with concern.
"Did you eat your medicines??"
"Ah, about that...." you told him about not having them, and he sighed. "Well wait here, I have some with me. Don't move from your place and stop cooking" Before he left the kitchen he spoke some words and created magic that collected the blood dripping from your hand. Now you had a small bubble of blood floating in the air that was oozing out.
Lucifer came back within two minutes and handed you the medicine. " Thank you so much Luci, but what will you do with this bubble of blood?" He just gives you a knowing look and brings his tongue near the bubble. You blush slightly as he savours the exotic taste of your blood, the medicine acting fast and stopping the bleeding.
" Why are you blushing MC? Your blood is only for me to taste. Now sit down, grab a dessert from the fridge, and let me finish dinner"
PS: anon you did not mention if Lucifer and MC are in an established relationship or not so I tried to write it in a way that you can insert a romantic/platonic relation between them^^ and also thank you for supporting my writing I appreciate it^^
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rude of my mutuals to be little gay people who live in my phone and not little gay people from real life. I want to make you little trinkets and thingies
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jaylaxies · 7 months
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THE ONLY EXCEPTION
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PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33
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The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party. 
It felt good to be back. 
Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party. 
“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same. 
Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”
Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long. 
Settling down wasn’t their forte. 
People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once. 
“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having. 
“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act. 
He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.
“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?” 
“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door. 
The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door. 
It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap. 
“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”
Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned. 
“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked. 
Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night. 
“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them. 
“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”
“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was. 
“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way. 
“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed. 
“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious. 
“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added. 
Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin. 
“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more. 
“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed. 
“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided. 
“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added. 
Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way. 
It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark. 
Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation. 
Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again. 
In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits. 
You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss. 
Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top. 
“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him. 
You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey. 
You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again. 
With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with. 
While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun. 
It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee. 
Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while. 
Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you. 
Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too. 
That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight. 
Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough. 
The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure. 
A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle. 
He had to have you. 
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You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat. 
What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still. 
“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games. 
“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school. 
“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down. 
You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you. 
“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused. 
Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally. 
Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here. 
Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends. 
Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line. 
He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes. 
You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk. 
For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—
Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly. 
“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short. 
“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house. 
“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”
“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked. 
“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected. 
“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face. 
“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested. 
“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys. 
“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate. 
“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it. 
Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark. 
“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”
“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly. 
“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck. 
Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout. 
Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—
“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”
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“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous. 
“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark. 
“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips. 
“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.” 
You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead. 
She was packing as you were speaking. 
In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you. 
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all. 
“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment. 
“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes. 
“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?” 
“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”
“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no. 
She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place. 
Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”
As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation. 
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Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip. 
Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away. 
Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs. 
It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan. 
He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel. 
The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception. 
“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned. 
The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings. 
And he kick-started it by calling you darling. 
“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck. 
His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way. 
“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”
An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked. 
He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it. 
“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed. 
“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings. 
The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact. 
His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you. 
He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand. 
It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat. 
Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation. 
“How was school?” He asked after a while. 
The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer. 
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The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view. 
Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you. 
The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts. 
You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement. 
The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful. 
“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage. 
The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”
“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact. 
You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls. 
“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out. 
She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready. 
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The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you. 
You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties. 
Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing  right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild. 
Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy. 
Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally. 
Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be. 
Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. 
This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd. 
“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink. 
His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck. 
Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan. 
If he’d bother to look your way, that is. 
“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused. 
That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves. 
Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot. 
His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions. 
Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face. 
Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore. 
Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him. 
He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body. 
You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so. 
The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony. 
Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply. 
“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other. 
The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly. 
“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye. 
You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest. 
“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided. 
You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask. 
His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 
They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage. 
He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe. 
“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”
That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close. 
So close to kissing you. 
Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention. 
“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room. 
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The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention. 
Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said. 
Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked. 
“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently. 
“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call. 
He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to. 
“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner. 
“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.” 
The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again. 
Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.  
The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them. 
“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot. 
Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly. 
You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three. 
“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes. 
The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way. 
“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure. 
In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”
You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this. 
“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked. 
“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally. 
“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.  
“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it. 
“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him. 
“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said. 
“It’ll be fun.”
“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you. 
“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar. 
“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate. 
Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to. 
“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily. 
“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him. 
“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”
It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move. 
“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked. 
“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water. 
Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water. 
“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene. 
Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone. 
Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold. 
Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight. 
You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame. 
He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun. 
Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour. 
“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion. 
He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes. 
“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours. 
“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again. 
“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face. 
Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable. 
“I’ll take care of it.”
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It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining. 
Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about. 
Lee Haechan. 
You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you. 
You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.
Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—” 
“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you. 
He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual. 
“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden. 
There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever. 
“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for. 
He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time. 
Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap. 
He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing. 
Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin. 
“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly. 
He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours. 
“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere. 
He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”
“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch. 
“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested. 
You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized. 
“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted. 
“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face. 
“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him. 
“Let’s find out,” you mumbled. 
Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own. 
The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches. 
Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured. 
He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure. 
“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it. 
You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most. 
“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit. 
It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself. 
Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded. 
“It’s yours—all yours!”
“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life. 
It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt. 
“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you. 
Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you. 
His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper. 
“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up. 
Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow. 
It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock. 
This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder. 
“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further. 
“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.
It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly. 
“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek. 
“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly. 
He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours. 
“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered. 
“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber. 
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Hurt. 
That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark. 
With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles. 
Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly. 
“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck. 
“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger. 
Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?” 
Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that? 
“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”
Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out. 
You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now. 
So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems. 
You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back. 
Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night. 
The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered. 
“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up. 
“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you. 
Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there. 
“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep. 
Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses. 
“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily. 
“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening. 
“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?” 
Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry. 
Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place. 
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again. 
You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course. 
Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there. 
He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down. 
The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck. 
You couldn’t avoid him after all. 
“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay. 
“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen. 
You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”
You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt. 
“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes. 
“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath. 
“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks. 
“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious. 
“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown. 
“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken. 
“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”
You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face. 
You really wanted to kiss him. 
“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.
You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger. 
He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you. 
“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips. 
He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?” 
You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try. 
Yet another problem lingered in your mind. 
“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.
“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched. 
“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other. 
“Fuck, hide!”
Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception. 
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
TAGGING: @ajayke-reads @jenoslutie @jjaeyuns @heesuncore @celeste-hoon
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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miss sunshine
pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.
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read on ao3 | masterlist
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.
When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.
Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.
Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."
Fuck.
Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.
His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.
They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"
Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"
Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.
What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.
His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.
You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."
He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."
"Any special occasions coming up soon?"
Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"
"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."
"Brainstorming...?"
"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."
You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"
The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.
You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"
"Always," he nods.
"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.
He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.
"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.
Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"
"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"
You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."
"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"
"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"
At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."
"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."
"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.
You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."
"Yeah?"
"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.
When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.
Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.
"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."
"Aren't those the same?"
"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"
"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."
"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."
"That's true."
"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."
He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"
That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."
I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."
Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"
Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."
"And that'd be a bad thing?"
"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.
It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."
You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."
"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."
Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."
His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."
"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"
Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."
"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."
"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."
Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"
"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."
Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?
"That makes sense."
Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"
Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.
"I'll let you," you answer.
Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.
"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."
"I'll leave the door open."
"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."
"Alright, jeez," you laugh.
It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?
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When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.
It makes your brain melt.
Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.
He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.
It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.
For now.
"Brand new man?" you ask.
He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."
You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.
Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"
"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"
Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."
"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"
Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."
You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"
Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."
"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.
"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."
Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.
"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."
"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"
"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."
"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.
You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"
He pins you under his gaze.
You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.
"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.
Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."
It grounds you.
The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.
Joel talks about anything, no reservations.
In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.
Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?
He wasn't.
Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.
Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.
Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.
He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.
Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.
He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.
The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.
"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."
Joel was very attentive.
He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"
"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."
He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."
"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."
"Do you?"
"'Course. Most days."
"Oh my—"
"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."
It was easy.
Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.
He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.
In his skin.
That was intoxicating.
When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?
The first bottle end, but it's too soon.
You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.
Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.
You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."
"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.
The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"
"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."
"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."
"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."
"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"
Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"
"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.
Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.
When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."
"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"
"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."
"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."
Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."
"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."
Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.
It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...
Well, very few times.
Fuck, you think.
Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.
He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?
Once in Rome...
Fuck it.
It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.
The air outside could be felt.
When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.
He has the whole night free.
You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.
Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."
You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.
He moved his chair closer again.
"Do share," you urge.
Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."
You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.
Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.
"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."
"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.
"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."
"What did he make you promise?"
"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."
You take note of the effort he's making.
The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.
'I'll take you someday'.
'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.
So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."
Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."
You laugh. "Older and younger?"
"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."
"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."
He agrees with you.
When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.
He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.
He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.
Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.
It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.
Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.
Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.
It makes your throat dry when he does.
Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.
You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.
It's a welcomed contrast.
When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.
"Define 'like this'."
"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."
"Is that me?"
"Sure is, Sunshine."
None of the questions that people usually ask.
It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.
He pulled them from you.
When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.
Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"
Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.
"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."
Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"
"Really," he nods.
"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."
"Yeah? You made friends already?"
"A few, yeah."
"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."
"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.
Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."
"And I believe you," you nodded.
He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"
"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.
From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"
"Sure do," you nod again.
He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"
"I'm warming up to them," you smile.
Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."
"Ew, Joel," you laugh.
His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."
When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?
"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."
"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"
Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.
"You just didn't want it?" he echos.
You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."
"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"
At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"
Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."
"You are very far from boring."
"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."
Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?
"Why me?" he asks.
It's nothing more than a breath.
You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."
This was amazing already.
Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.
He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.
The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.
"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."
Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.
You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.
Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.
Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.
He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.
"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.
What could you say to that?
"You really haven't."
Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.
"Do I get a kiss, then?"
He would never have to ask you twice.
Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.
He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.
His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.
If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.
Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.
He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.
His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.
Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.
He wants to feel your body.
The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.
He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.
It makes you want to scream.
When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.
"Joel..."
Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.
You do as he says.
His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.
To not make a mess, it says.
Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.
"Is this ok?" he asks.
He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.
He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.
"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."
That gets to you.
Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.
It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.
You were right about the torture.
He enjoys it.
Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.
You can only cling onto his hair.
I dreamt about this, too.
"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.
His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.
Joel's only starting.
He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.
He eats.
Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.
That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.
Because it's good.
Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.
At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.
He pulls back for air, once.
His fingers enter you instead, two at once.
"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.
As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.
His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.
Joel looks like he could eat you like this.
"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.
"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."
Profanities.
That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.
It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"
He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.
"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"
"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."
All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.
No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.
Your vision whites out.
The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.
What a little death.
After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.
He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.
The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.
When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.
Nothing but black briefs.
You have to drop to your knees.
Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.
To him, you want to do only your best.
You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.
"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."
With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.
Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.
He shows you what strong body means.
"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.
"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.
He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.
"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."
"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.
He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.
Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."
"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."
You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.
Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.
A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.
"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;
And who are you to say no to that?
Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.
"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.
"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.
Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.
His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.
You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.
Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.
When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.
It's criminal.
Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.
The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.
You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.
So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.
"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."
There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.
Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.
Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.
"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"
You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.
He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.
He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.
It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."
It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.
Joel takes care of you afterward.
Of course he does.
Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.
"Just for a while," you ask.
He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."
Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."
"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."
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ryukatters · 9 months
Text
don’t go - k. bakugo
a/n: I’m so horny for this man I can’t even think straight. This was supposed to be short and fluffy but now it’s turned into this. I would say sorry but I’m not. (Yes I am alive)
pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader
wc: 1.5k
content/warnings: smut, unprotected morning s*x, begging, overstimulation, bkg is obsessed with you, also completely not proofread
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Your boyfriend Katsuki is clingy. Very clingy— in all senses of the word, and you’re convinced that if you open a dictionary right now his name would show up as the very definition of it. Bakugo would live under your skin if he could, or at the very least come up with a way to keep you in his pocket. 
As lovely as your boyfriend is, his innate urge to smother you in affection poses a problem in times like these— early mornings where you have to get up and get ready for work. 
“Katsuki, I need to go to work. Go back to your side of the bed.”
“Just quit,” he murmurs, “I’ll take care of ya.” 
“As appealing as that sounds, no. I need to get up and do my part as a functioning member of society.” Any attempt to leave your shared bed is shut down by Bakugo, his strength easily overpowering yours as he wraps his arms around you and lays on top of you. 
“But you’re my pillow,” he says with a bit of a sigh, pressing his into the crook of your neck, melting further into you. His hot breath tickles your skin, and it’s enough to have your heart pounding along with a familiar warmth in between your legs. Katsuki is observant to a fault, he knows you better than the back of his own hand, and knows just what to do to turn you into putty. 
His hands snake up under your (read: his) shirt, kneading your breasts. You let out a sharp gasp as he tweaks your nipples and sucks a love bite at the junction of your neck. He hums in appreciation as he slowly leaves a trail of wet kisses down your stomach, stopping just as he reaches your underwear. 
He traces your slit, eyes darkening as the fabric begins to dampen with your slick. “So wet for me already, baby.” It’s not a question, it’s a fact that he already knew. Katsuki wastes no time sliding the garment down your legs. He takes a moment to run his hands up and down both your thighs before prying your legs further apart, exposing yourself to him completely. He can feel his mouth water at the sight of you. 
Katsuki can’t help but moan the minute his lips attach themselves to your clit, sucking fervently. “Always taste so good, princess.” 
You take a moment to glance down, which proves to be a mistake. Katsuki’s practically making out with your pussy, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re nothing short of lovesick. His vermillion orbs draw you in, and they’re absolutely magnetizing. You have to close your eyes to stave off your orgasm for a little longer. 
Katsuki can’t help but grind against the edge of the bed to feel some sort of release. He’s so fucking hard. He thinks he’s growing delirious. Katsuki swears he can cum from the taste of your pussy and the sound of your angelic voice filling the room with a sweet symphony. When you let out a particularly breathy call of his name, he has to will himself not to finish in his boxers, which is already usually a difficult enough task on its own, but now it's almost impossible from how impossibly hard he is with morning wood.
You grind against his mouth, hands carding through his hair as your orgasm rapidly approaches. Katsuki is more than eager to be used as a means of getting there. Even as you cum, he continues to fuck your hole with his tongue and lapping up your pussy. It’s only when you begin to push him away does he feel the need to lean back, a loud pop reverberating as he does. 
“You gonna be a good girl and let me take care of ya?”
“Mmm, fuck. Yes, ‘ki.”
“Good girl,” he coos, his lips pressing against yours with fervor. You allow him to deepen the kiss, sucking on his tongue. He moans appreciatively, hips stuttering as he continues to grind against you. The head of his cock bumps against your clit over and over, smearing precum all over your pussy. His tip just barely presses against your fluttering hole, and you can feel your insides ache with anticipation and utter need.
He’s teasing you. You’re overstimulated yet somehow unsatisfied. Your pussy is craving to be stretched out, and Katsuki is making sure he’s doing everything but that. He likes getting you like this— needy, clingy, nearly delirious as you beg for him. He likes to think of it as reparations for how insane you make him feel on the daily. 
You’re not sure how much more you can take. 
“Katsuki, please,” you whine, lifting your hips to grind against his dick, hoping to get what you want, what you need. You look up at Katsuki and for a moment, you think you’ve got him— think that you’d be able to look at him with those doe eyes and get what you want easily, like always. He never could refuse you.
But he merely smirks, and uses one hand to press you back down into the mattress. 
“Tell me what you want, princess. You know I’ll make it good for you.” 
“Want you to fuck me, ‘ki.” 
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whine sweetly. 
“I’ll give you what you want baby,” he affirms, the timbres of his voice reaching the depths of your soul. He uses both hands to press both of your legs by your shoulders, cock lined at your entrance. I always do, don’t I?
You can’t stop the moan that tumbles out of your lips as he fills you up. Katsuki presses a kiss against your forehead, relishing in the way you tighten around his dick. 
The familiar coil that’s been forming in your tummy is threatening to unravel, if your stuttered moans and breaths are any indication. Katsuki seems to know this too, as he pulls out right before you hit your climax. You whine at the sudden lack of overwhelming pressure, and Katsuki’s quick to silence you with a hard stare. 
His breath ghosts against your lips, vermillion eyes burning into yours with intense, unspoken passion. “What’s wrong, princess?”
You shake your head in the negative. “Wanna cum, Katsuki. Please.” 
He starts thrusting again, slowly and with purpose. His eyes never leave yours. It doesn’t take long for you to be on the brink of an orgasm again. “You want to cum, right baby?” He smiles when he sees you nod. “You can cum,” he says carefully, “but only if you do one thing for me.” 
“I’ll do anything Kats,” you manage to choke out. Katsuki continues to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. You really would do anything, Katsuki’s own desire and utter want for you is so persuasive that you feel compelled to follow. 
“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips pressing a chaste kiss against yours. “Stay with me, today.” There’s an urgency behind his words despite them being said so softly. 
Fuck it. 
You barely manage to let out a stuttered “yes, ‘ki,” before you reach your peak. The pleasure rolls over you in waves, tears threatening to spill as Katsuki continues to drill into you, chasing his own high. A few particularly rough thrusts punctuated by staggered moans let you know that he’s cumming. 
Katsuki manages to plop right next to you, bed shifting under his weight. You lock eyes as you both try to catch your breaths. He gives you a quick smile before pressing a kiss to your sweaty temple, one arm wrapping around you to pull you against him.
“So…” he starts, his eyes brimming with satisfaction, lips upturned into a smirk. He knows he’s won. “Ready for round 2?”
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earthtooz · 10 months
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x : LOVIN' YOU RIGHT :*+゚ all of me i'm offering, show you what devotion is !
in which: reo keeps chasing after you because the one thing he knows how to do is love you right.
warnings: 2.2k words, FLUFF, gn!reader, reo is an athlete, post-argument fic inspired by jungkook's 'seven' mv, mentions of food, pet names used by reader and reo, reo is a little bit of a flirt and a lot in love and pathetic bc that's how we like our men!
a/n: I LOVE REO
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“what are you doing here?” 
reo looks at the direction of your voice, eyes widening in surprise upon seeing you. there are grocery bags in your hands, you’re wearing the sweater you always wear when running errands, and you’re looking at him like he’s a fly that’s invaded your home, annoyance and exasperation seeping right off you. despite it, his heart flutters alive and reo feels like he can finally breathe after the few days you spent ignoring him. 
“y/n!” he exclaims, a smile making its way onto his face. “hi baby, i’ve missed you!”
just as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, you swerve aside smoothly, causing the purple-haired’s smile to drop.
“y/n? what was that for?” you don’t answer him, instead slipping past his figure to stand in front of your door, perhaps pressing a little too close for it to be normal, but reo keeps quiet about it. “at least let me help you with your groceries, you can’t unlock a door with both hands-”
“don’t.” you command, struggling with getting your keys out. “why are you here?” 
“wh-what do you mean? i haven’t seen you in three days and i missed you so i came to visit,” he pouts. “did you not miss me?” 
your eye twitches. “i’m still mad at you,” you finally unlock your door, pushing it open and closing it before reo could come in. 
however, that plan is much easier said than done because your boyfriend has better reflexes and is considerably faster than you, so he jams his shoe in between the doorway before you could close it. he makes no move to push it open though. 
“i’m sorry!” he calls out guiltily and he hopes his words reach you through the thin space. “you know i am, i didn’t mean to upset you, and i came to talk it out and make it up to you!”
you peek through the gap, looking reo in the eye. “as much as i appreciate your apology reo, there’s no point in letting you in, i need to go run some errands soon so why don’t you leave and come back later when we can talk.”
“then can i come with you?”
“why? you’re just going to be bored following me around.”
“i’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you allowed me.” 
the silence is deafening, utterly suffocating as reo awaits for a response. he has never wanted to kick down a door so badly in his life because if you spend another millisecond not speaking to him then he might lose his mind, he’d rather die than have you shut him out. 
thankfully, you open up the gap just a little more, allowing him to see more of you, but you don’t meet his eye, looking to the side bashfully instead. “fine, but i’m still mad at you, so don’t get any ideas.”
heaven is on his side, reo decides as he fails miserably at hiding his smile.
“you wait outside though, i’ll be out in a bit.”
“wait, can’t i help you put your groceries away?”
“you don’t even know how to do it properly.”
“i’ll learn for you.”
“another time.”
reo retracts his foot and you close the door with a gentle click, the sight of you being replaced with a wooden plank souring his mood significantly. better than you slamming the door in his face, he supposes, but nevertheless, the purple-haired sighs, moping in front of your door like it was his birthright. 
he only broods for a few minutes maximum because soon enough, he’s reunited with you, trailing behind you like a second shadow as you both make your way through your neighbourhood. the excitement that reo feels practically tangible, leaving a trail of undying devotion, powered by the love he feels for you.
the walk is quiet, filled by sounds of passing cars, birds chirping, and people strolling by that stare a little too long at the purple-haired, either subtly admiring him or wondering why he seemed so familiar. you’re acutely aware of the stares and how strange the sight must be to them. world-class soccer player and multimillionaire trailing behind a nobody as if it was just another day, how unfathomable. 
you wonder if reo gets tired of it.
“what are you doing today?” your boyfriend asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“i need to drop by the bank first of all, then i have some things to return, and then i need to buy some new headphones because mine broke.”
“oh, good to know!”
“reo, i swear, don’t even get the idea about paying for any of it. use your credit card today and i will personally-”
“-okay, okay!” he jokes, defensively putting up his hands. “i won’t.”
“promise?”
“promise.”
you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion, very clearly not believing him before continuing your journey. you know your boyfriend better than anyone and if it’s one thing he’s stubborn with, it’s never letting you pay, but you’re determined and reo is plotting the many ways to break his promise. 
the first method is dropped in front of him like a divine gift, which took shape through a flower stall in front of the mall you planned on going to. reo is a man of taking his chances whenever he sees it. grabbing your hand to stop you from walking any further, reo doesn’t explain his intentions as he wordlessly drags you to the quaint store that had set itself up. 
“reo, no-”
“-this one, please,” reo demands as he hands the bouquet of his choice to the store owner, keeping you in a tight grip before you could run away. 
“reo!”
“that’ll be 7700 yen.”
“that’s too much! reo, stop it! i told you you couldn’t use your credit card today!”
from his pocket, reo fishes out a crisp ‘10000’ bill, dropping it on the platter for cash before speed walking away with the bouquet. “thank you very much, no need for change!”
the protests of the store attendant fades in the background and reo turns to you with a boyish smile, pushing the bouquet into your arms as if you hadn’t witnessed everything that just happened. 
“reo,” you murmur, resolve crumbling as the beautiful arrangement shines up at you and it doesn’t help that your (very charming) boyfriend is looking at you with a pleading look in his eyes, practically begging for you to accept. “i told you not to buy anything-”
“-with my card! you never said anything about cash.” 
“that’s not the point- oh my goodness,” you pinch the bridge of your nose whilst shaking your head, but you quickly admit defeat when a small giggle slips through your lips. 
glancing back up at him, there’s scorn in your eyes but it’s easily contrasted by the gentle smile that dances along your lips. reo feels a warmth spread in his chest, as if he had swallowed the sun and made itself home beside his heart, the same one that begins to race at the sight of you laughing. he is so pathetically devoted to you that it makes him stupid, but he’d buy all the flowers in the world if it will make you smile at him like this. 
“you’re so silly, reo,” taking the bouquet from his relaxed grip, you hug it close to your chest. “thank you though, i love them.”
“i love you,” slips past his lips before he can think.
“ever the smoothtalker, aren’t you?”
you walk away without another word, causing reo to chase after you. “wait, why aren’t you saying it back?”
“still mad.”
reo shuts his mouth, complaints dying on his tongue as he continues following you through the mall. slowly but surely, you make your way through your list of things to do, with the world-class athlete silently losing his mind more and more with each second that you weren’t giving him attention. he needs to plot more ways that would break your resolve, and fast.
his opportunity comes up when the two of you pass by a bakery that catches your eye, your gaze to lingering a little too long on the display of baked goods for reo not to notice. without a second thought, he drags you in with him, your immediate complaints falling on deaf ears. 
“i don’t want anything!” you hiss, trying to keep loyal your stubbornness despite the enchanting smell of baked goods wafting through the air.
“too bad, either you tell me what you want or i’m buying out the whole store,” reo promises, eyes alight with determination.
“i want to go home.”
“aren’t you hungry?”
“there’s food at home, i don’t want to waste any unnecessary money.” 
“it’s not wasting if it’s spent on you, though,” he reasons before ordering the baked goods that he knows you will like, and once again, paying for it with cash. 
“if you’re trying to get me to forgive you by spending your money then forget it,” you mutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp before walking out of the store.
“y/n-” reo begins, cutting himself off as he waits impatiently for his order to get finished packing; not that it takes long before he leaves the store with a branded paper bag in hand, filled with perhaps multiple boxes of baked goods as dashes out to the entrance, prepared to chase after you.
except he doesn’t need to, because you’re standing outside patiently waiting for him, the bouquet of flowers still snug in your arms. its beauty could never compare to yours, reo thinks offhandedly as he approaches you like a magnet. 
“i thought me walking out would deter you,” you murmur, eyeing the bag in his hand. “should’ve known that it wouldn’t work.” 
reo grins, partly out of adoration, mostly because he’s just glad you didn’t actually leave him behind, not that you ever would or could do such a thing. 
“you treat me too well, don’t you think?” you hug the flowers closer to your chest. 
“what? where did that come from?” 
you shrug, not meeting his eyes. “i don’t know, you’re just too good for me sometimes. aren’t you tired?”
a crack resonates through his heart, causing a few pieces to crumble and shatter on the ground. “how could you ever think that?” he says in a panic. “do i need to give you more flowers? i need to call to make you an arrangement soon, i’m so inconsiderate! we can go out next week, i’ll clear my sche-”
two hands are placed of either side of his face and the words die on reo’s tongue. you look at him with a look of fondness that almost makes him cry and fall to his knees. “-i’m sorry, i don’t know where that came from. i just think i got really lucky having someone like you in my life.” 
reo wants to say that its reverse, that he’s the one who landed in a pot of fortune and came out with someone as kind and beautiful as you, but he’ll find the words some other day because he wants to kiss you, badly. 
finally, you say, “thank you love, i appreciate your gifts.” 
he beams and falls harder in love than he already was.
by the time the two of you arrive at your apartment, the sun is beginning to dip belong the horizon and you hold a lot more goods than anticipated, your boyfriend being the one to blame for most of them.
“are you gonna call someone to drive you home?” you ask, stopping in front of your door.
reo frowns, “i guess i could do that.” 
he makes no move for his phone and his pout is a strong indication of what he truly wants. you’ve always been good at reading reo but you’ve never been good at resisting his wishes, so it’s with a faked sigh that you give in.
“fine,” you hold out your hand for him to take and he very happily complies, beaming with a hope so bright that it blinds you. “want to stay the night?”
he almost drops to one knee but doesn’t get the time to because you’re unlocking your door. this time, you’re leaving it open and reo storms in like its his birth right (which it could be. he thinks he was put on this earth to love you and being welcomed in to your apartment might as well be another declaration of love.)
its refreshing to be in your space once more, to bathe in your presence and be welcomed in instead of shut out. as much as you may scorn him, reo’s only place in the universe is beside you, and he’ll take whatever you give so long as it’s you he gets to see at the end of the day.
“reo!” you call out from the kitchen, disrupting his thoughts. “should we have some of those cakes you bought earlier?”
“yeah, i’m coming!” shouts reo, happy, content, and grateful that you will let him love you, because he’s the only one that could do it right.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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slttygeto · 8 months
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CAN WE ALWAYS BE THIS CLOSE? | GOJO. S
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c.w: gn! reader, teacher! reader and teacher! satoru, mutual pining<3, reader and satoru aren’t dating but they act like a couple, satoru is a huge baby and i love him, satoru has a sweet tooth!
note: thank u to my one and only @aurelianamu for the idea<3 i changed it a little but yeah! also i am completely and utterly and platonically obsessed with this man.
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satoru has a sweet tooth. you keep a mental note of that and you’re reminded of how important having something sweet is for him when you notice the way he deflates on the brown leather couch of the teacher’s lounge. and while satoru doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s withering like a flower in winter, the weather seems to be in tune with his emotions—it gets cold, cloudy and then there’s rain and all of that seems to worsen his mood.
you don’t say anything as you watch him stand up and make his way to the kitchenette of the school dorm. you see the tall man not so quietly open one of the cabinets and after rummaging in there for a while, he pulls out a big tub of Nutella and a huge spoon. you feel sick to your stomach at the sight.
“satoru—“ you don’t realize how fast you jump from your seat, reaching towards the big tub of Nutella. “satoru, give me that.” you don’t even try to be stern with him, you know that it does nothing to him, and he suddenly wants to act bratty.
he turns his back to you and you sigh, quickly giving up.
“you will get sick, satoru.” you try to reason with him, a hand resting on his shoulder and trying to take a quick look. “and that tub is huge- come on, maybe I could make you something to put the Nutella on?” your thumb soothes the seam of his uniform, and you make another note in your head to remind him to iron his clothes properly next time.
it seems as though your suggestion hits a good spot because he quickly places the container down and turns around to face you. he pulls his blindfold off completely and you don’t move back when his big blue eyes meet yours.
“gonna make pancakes?”
“mhm, from scratch. sit down.” you order the tall man and it’s comedic how he complies almost immediately. if satoru was a puppy, then his tail was definitely wagging , hitting the floor violently. you stifle a laugh at how obedient he looks, sitting on the stool and watching you handle the ingredients with delicate and professional hands.
the smell of the pancakes quickly reaches the students and they slowly come out of the rooms. you don’t expect megumi to be the first one out of the bunch to be standing behind you, asking you if he can take one but you smile at him and tell him to take a seat next to his mentor.
“can I have one?” megumi mumbles and his eyes light up when you place a plate in front of him and gojo.
“eat, I will make more for when the rest join us.”
and sure enough, the small space of the kitchenette was filled with all the students, nanami and yaga as well. it was a rare sight for everyone to be gathered in the same place at the same time, and although you were sweating and a little bothered by the heat and the tightness of the space, you manage to finish serving the pancakes before turning to a pouting satoru.
“are you okay? you don’t like them?”
“it was supposed to be for me.” he sounds so sincere and broken, you have to fight back the urge to engulf him in a tight hug.
“i can make more for you. at home.”
gojo lights up at the last part, and this time you show him how much you appreciate his excitement to be hanging out with you.
“after work?”
“after missions too, if you want.” you shrug your shoulders as you add the last comment, and you pray that he doesn’t notice the way your cheeks warm up.
“are you inviting me over to your place?” usually his teasing gets you riled up, but he is pleasantly surprised when you nod and look him in the eye.
“i’d love to have you over, satoru.” his heart almost bursts at the way you say his name. so soft, so gentle.
“okay, promise.” he lifts up his hand and puts up his pinky finger. he watches as your face contorts into one of confusion before lightly chuckling at his antics.
you intertwine your pinky with his nonetheless, flashing him a grin.
“pinky promise.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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Grill the Grid
Guys, I'm sorry this is so short. I've had a bout of writers block but still wanted to get another chapter out. I will be going back to working on the regular chapters soon! But enjoy this take on Grill the Grid!
Like always - comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Much love :D
Key for this chapter: regular text - just normal speaking bold - words on the flip boards italics - scene change bold italics - the narrator lady
Episode One: Radio Show 
A quick snapshot of each driver shows up before the opening title of “Grill the Grid” crosses the screen. 
You quickly showed up and clapped your hands. 
“Welcome ladies and gents to another season of Drive to Survive.” You showed a cheeky smile as you winked to the camera. 
“Can you please state your name and what team you drive for?” 
You sighed as you thought. “Christian is going to kill me if I can't remember all of it.” You looked back at the camera. “My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula One Team.” 
“That is correct.” 
Your eyes widened as you started to laugh. “I didn’t think I’d get that.” 
The lady behind the camera smiled. “Max didn’t get the entire thing.” 
You stared at the camera like you were on the office before turning to someone off camera to the side. “Do I get a point for that?” 
The video now cut to Max. 
Max had his hands on his side, head down before he looked back up. 
He had a nervous smile as he tried to think. “Yeah, I don’t know. Red Bull Racing?” He shrugged as multiple people around him laughed. 
“It’s actual Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “How is anyone supposed to remember that?” 
“Y/n did.” 
“Of course.” 
Words flashed on the screen signaling to viewers the actual start of the episode. Multiple familiar faces showed as they all stood next to a board with multiple flaps of paper. 
Lando smugly looked at the title and then to the camera. “I got this in the bag.” 
“How do you think you’ll do?” 
Oscar was now on screen. “Uhhhhh.” He didn’t have time to answer.
“I think I’ll do ok. I’m not too familiar with other team’s radios, but I can try?” A red-clad Monegasque questioned himself. 
The drivers all flipped the first page.
--He better get me more stroopwaffles after that. Asshole--  
You flipped the first page and barely glanced at it before answering. “Lando.” 
“Lando.” Max also flipped.
Oscar, Daniel, Charles, and Carlos at once, “Lando.” 
Lando just stared into the camera. “Me?” 
You smiled back at the camera. “This was at Zandvoort right? After Max kinda bumped him.” 
“He pushed me off the track! Bumped is an understatement.” Lando now flipped the next page and leaned back to laugh. “Y/n.” 
--Speed. I am Speed. One winner, 19 losers. I eat losers for breakfast--
Max, once again, barely glanced before answering, “Y/n.” 
Lance looked around trying to get a hint. He couldn’t find one. “Logan? I know he’s watched the Cars movies.” 
Logan laughed as well before shaking his head. “Y/n.” 
“Me.” Your face flushed red. “Truthfully, I didn’t know the radio was on.” 
Oscar made a noise as he thought. “I want to say Logan because he recently watched that. But my heart wants to say Y/n.” 
“Is that your final answer.” 
“Yes.” 
“That’s correct.” 
Fernando, Carlos, Daniel, and Alex flipped the page. “Y/n.” 
--This is what she gets for telling me to use my mirrors. AHA! Does she even have her driver’s license?-- 
“Aha! This is Daniel.” You stood looking at the next page. “So in quali, he almost hit me in turn four during my flying lap and I told him to use his mirrors in the race. Well, he overtook me in the first lap and I fell behind.” Your smile disappeared as you looked right into the camera. “And yes, I have my driver’s license.” 
Daniel almost fell to his knees as he read the next one. His gummy smile almost took over his face. “This is me to Y/n.” 
Max just looked lost. “Who said this?” 
“Daniel.”
“Oh.”  
 
Episode Two: Champions Part 2
“So do you know what’s next?” 
You looked confused as you looked around the empty space. “Well there’s no board here?” 
Charles shrugged. “It could be anything. I certainly hope that this season we won’t have to list the champions in some order again.” 
Max looked around with a confused look. “Again?” 
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Man I knew I should have gone back and actually memorized them.” 
“There’s no way someone is getting all of them. Sebastian is gone.” Lando shrugged. 
It was now back to Charles who looked a bit more pale. A loud beep sounded on a views screen as he looked down. 
You once again clapped. “I knew all those Wikipedia pages would come in handy. Are we starting from newest to oldest or oldest to newest.” 
“Any way you want.” 
You looked up in thought as you started to list. “Ok. Max was in 2023, 2022, 2021. Then Lewis in 2020, 2019, 1028, 2017. Nico won in 2016 then it was back to Lewis in ’15 and ’14. Seb won from 2013 to 2010…” 
Max sighed before he started. “Uh, me in 2023 to 2021. Then Lewis until 2014.” 
“Incorrect. Nico won in 2016.” 
Max hummed. “Uh, Nico in ’16. Then Lewis to ’14. I know Seb won in 2013.” 
It was back to you. “And then Michael Schumacher again in 2010, which was his first with Ferrari. Then it was Hakkinen in ’99 and ’98. Uh, Villeneuve in 1997 who was preceded by Hill in 1996. Then it was back to Schumi in ’95 and ’94.”
Lando looked lost. 
Charles was still pale but he tried. “It was Max, Lewis, Nico, Lewis again. Then Seb then Lewis again?” 
“You’re forgetting another Mercedes Driver.” 
Charles looked even more confused. “Uh.” 
“Jensen Button in 2009.” 
“He was in Mercedes?” Charles just ended up walking off. 
Back to you. “Mario Andretti was the last American in 1978. Niki and Hunt danced around from 1977 to 1976. Then it was Fittipaldi, Stewart, Fittpaldi, Stewart, Rindt, Stewart respectfully in 1975, 1974, 1973, 1972, 1971, and 1970.” 
Oscar looked as if he was having a stroke. 
Logan ran a hand down his face. “I only know Andretti in 1978 and then Phil Hill in 1961. You know. Go America!” 
Fernando tried but couldn’t get past the nineties. Yet he had a smile on his face. “Y/n got all of these right, correct?” 
“She was the only one.”  
“Shut up, no she wasn’t.” Lando didn’t believe it. 
“Of course she did.” Max could only chuckle. “She would brag and brag about this in the plane.” 
“And then Ascari in 1952, then Fangio in 1951, and finally Farina in 1950!” You had a proud look on your face. “I knew I could do it. Did I miss any?” 
“Nope.”  
Episode Three: Guess These Headlights 
Charles, who had now recovered from his bout of PTSD, suddenly looked excited. “Now here is something I can do.” 
“Are you a car guy?” 
“Definitely.” Carlos responded with a smug look. “I grew up around cars.” 
“I mean. I know my McLarens?” Oscar questioned. “This is going to be hard.” 
Lando looked ready. “Let’s get this going.” 
You looked determined. “Bring it on.” You flipped the first page. “Ah. That’s a classic. A Ferrari F40.” You turned back to the camera. “If I didn’t have my Porsches, I would have bought an F40.” A far away thoughtful look crossed your face. “Maybe I’ll still get one. I’ll ask Charles. He can get me one.”  
Charles quickly answered “F40” and then flipped. “Ah. This is McLaren P1.” 
“McLaren P1,” Oscar answered. “The logo is in the headlights. Pretty helpful.” 
Daniel flipped the next one and stood back, hands on his hips. “I know Max has this car. But I can’t remember the name.” 
Lance finally looked as though he knew what it was. “This is the Aston Valkyrie.” 
Fernando also guessed it correctly. “Aston Valkyrie.” 
Next, Carlos easily got the next one. “La Ferrari. I wanted one.” 
“Did you get one.” 
Carlos nodded his head before answering. “No.” 
Max flipped through the pages very quickly. “Ah! I know this one. Y/n has two of these. It’s the Porsche 9-11’s.” 
“Y/n’s Porsche. The 9-11 model,” Alex responded. 
“I see these in my garage since Y/n’s apartment didn’t come with one, so she puts her’s in mine. It’s the Porsche 9-11,” Logan had a happy smile as he knew one. The next one, he didn’t know. 
“Not a clue.” Charles, Oscar, and Daniel all said as they flipped. 
Max took a minute to look at the X looking headlights. He hummed. “Y/n was just showing me a TikTok with this car. Says she wants one someday.” 
You had a giant grin on your face as you looked at the headlights. 
“Do you know what this car is?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Of course I know. It’s the 3 million dollar Ferrari V12 Engine Apollo Project Evo. There are currently 10 of them only in the world, and they are all owned.” 
“Do you have one of them?” 
You only smirked as you looked into the camera.
Max still stood next to his board, eyes to the sky as he really thought. His eyebrows raised as he remembered the answer. “This is like...the Apollo E car?” 
“That is correct. Now, does Y/n own one of these? She didn’t give us an answer.” 
Max looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh. No comment?”   
  
Episode Four: Random Skills
“Ok. For this challenge you have to guess what driver has this skill.” 
“Easy.” Came from Lando. 
You looked around confused. “I don’t think I have any skills.” 
“Do I even have a skill for them to use?” Lewis questioned himself. 
“First skill. Which driver is known for playing the piano.” 
“Sharl,” you smirked. “Easy.” 
“Charles.” Lance, Fernando, and Daniel all answered. 
“Me.” The Monegasque had a smile on his face. 
Oscar looked up. “Is it Y/n? She looks like she can play the piano.” 
“He said that? I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” You shrugged. 
“Which drivers claims to be able to hit a hole in one at the Monte Carlo Golf Course.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “I know Lando has claimed, but I’m going to say Carlos.” 
Carlos looked lost. “Me? I don’t know if I’ve said that though. Maybe Lando?” 
Logan answered, “Lando?” 
Lando also looked lost. “Me?” 
“No.” 
“Who is it then?” You questioned. Lando and Carlos had been your guess. 
“It is Pierre Gasly.” 
Lando huffed. “Get out of here.” 
The man in question had a guilty smile. “I forgot I said that. Let’s say it’s still true.”
You looked eager to get on with the game. You wanted to win that trophy. 
“Which driver has set a drive time around the Daytona International Speedway at 1 minute and 40 seconds. Which is only 8 seconds slower than the lap record.” 
“Oh, I didn’t know I would get on here for this category. It’s me right?” 
“Correct, Logan.”  
You took a little while to guess. “I’m gonna say Logan. Sounds like a very American thing to do at Daytona. And his brother drove for NASCAR right?” 
“Correct.”
Your fist pumped the air. 
Oscar looked elated at this question. “It’s Logan. I was there when he did it.” A big smile crossed his face. 
Lance looked around in thought. “Uhhhhh. Lando? I don’t know.” 
Lando also looked happy, as he seemed to know the answer. “It’s Logan right? Yeah, Logan. Final answer.” 
“Are there any geography questions this season, or…” Max drew out the last syllable as he laughed with the others. He suddenly went cold stare. “I’m being serious.” 
“Which driver knows how to moon walk?” 
Fernando squinted his eyes as he thought before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s one of the young ones right? Yuki?” 
Yuki was also as lost as Fernando. “I wish it was me. Maybe Lando? He DJ’s right?” 
“It’s not Lando. But it is a younger driver.” 
“I should know this after she made me play Just Dance for three hours one time. It’s Y/n.” Logan looked put off at his mention of the dance off. 
Oscar also looked bored as he also brought it up. “Yeah, it’s Y/n. I threw Just Dance out after she left. No more.” 
Max rubbed his face. “She plays it with P whenever she comes over. They play the same one over and over again. Y/n.” 
Charles had a far off look, like one of an older man who suddenly was hit with PTSD from war. He whispered, “We don’t mention moonwalk. Not after her and Arthur…” He never finished as he walked off again. 
You had a shit-eating grin on your face. “Me! And I tried to teach it to Oscar, Lando, Logan, Max, Charles, Arthur…” You just seemed to keep going and going. They finally had to stop you before you kept going on about the Just Dance discography. 
Bloopers
You stood in front of the camera with one of the que things that snap. “And action! Do you even say that anymore? And I thought this was an actual set. I might have cried when I saw the green screen.” 
Beep 
The camera showed Max creeping in as you continued listing all of the champions in order. He looked over at the camera like was on the office. “Is she still going?” 
Beep
Logan kept touching his hair and the makeup lady would slap his hands away to fix it. “NASCAR drivers don’t have to go through this. I bet they don’t have to list all the freaking Formula 1 champions in order.” He leaned in and made a gesture. “See. All they have to do is kiss a brick and they get one when they win.” 
Beep 
Oscar smiled as he looked around, honestly excited to get this over with. “I think I’m finally ready for redemption. This should be easy.” 
The camera cut to him after ever he finished filming. “I take it back. That was not easy. You guys really need to find better questions.” 
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totheblood · 8 months
Text
cutty love.
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pairing: ellie williams x reader
summary: ellie becomes your best friend and you stumble upon her journal
warnings: this is purely fluff, cursing, suggestive themes maybe once? idk very soft
a/n: this is because i want bff ellie and also domestic ellie and also wanted to put eleven labs to the test with their new features so please... enjoy! AI AUDIOS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE FIC also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.2k
"all my dreams my dear they are of you."
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spring came fast to jackson.
dew painted the grass on early mornings and little patches of snow began to melt into the soil. winter was finally over and you were finally back on farming duty. however, you weren’t as excited as you thought you would be.
patrol was something you would have dreaded a year ago, the idea of entering the outside world terrifying you completely. but as winter came around, and farming became obsolete, maria had warned you you needed to sign up for a new task. your dumbass, however, signed up too late and both stable and kitchen work were all filled up. patrol became your only option. 
on your first day of patrol, you were assigned with dina. she basically held your hand through it: walking into buildings first, showing you how to aim and shoot your gun, and teaching you all the best places to hide. it was an easy day with one encounter with an infected (who dina shot on sight).
your second day you were paired with jesse, who was, to your surprise, gentler. he made jokes when he could tell you were getting scared, always walked with his hand outstretched in front of you when walking into new territory, and taught you how to make a molotov cocktail.  you felt safe with them.
on your third day, you were paired with ellie who was less than kind at first. upon seeing you she rolled her eyes and scoffed, mumbling something like, “why do i always have to be paired with the newbies?” 
to avoid confrontation you simply kept your mouth shut. you were supposed to be partners and you were going to do your best to keep yourself alive. like the others, ellie walked into spaces first and after clearing the area for any infected, started a small fire in the lookout to keep the two of you warm.
you stood at a distance from her where she was placing her palms just above the fire and then rubbing them together for warmth. you watched on with a shiver, shaking as you looked out the window.
“you’re not going to get warm from all the way over there,” ellie spoke up, causing you to snap your head in her direction.
“what?”
“the fire is over here. you have to stand close to get at least a little warm,” she commented, beckoning you over with the wave of her hand, “here, come get warm.”
“oh,” you stepped closer to the fire, sitting down across from her, bathing in the warmth the fire offered.
“you’re not really talkative, huh?” ellie chuckled, taking picking at her nails as she spoke.
“uh, no, i usually am,” you laughed nervously, looking to the raised skin around her nailbeds.
“oh, so you just don’t like me?” her tone was joking, but there seemed to be an ounce of vulnerability to it. her eyes looked up to yours, scanning your face for a reaction.
“no, i just,” you took a deep breath and shrugged, “earlier you said you didn’t want to be stuck with the newbie so i didn’t want to be a bother or anything.”
“shit,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. all of the skin around her nails were raw and red, “i’m such an asshole. i didn’t mean it like that. i’ve just had a shitty week.”
“no, it’s fine,” you forced a smile, “i understand. i’m just nervous and this is all new to me.”
she paused for a moment, looking you over and taking another deep sigh. 
“i’m not usually an asshole.”
“sure.”
“no, seriously, i’m usually nice.”
“i believe you.”
“ok, i’m kind of nice, but i’m doing my best.”
“it’s fine, i’m also an asshole,” you spit out and she laughed. a full chested laugh that went on for what felt like a minute. it was the kind of laugh were all of her teeth showed and wrinkles formed by her eyes. it made your chest feel warm. 
from that moment on you and ellie became close friends. if you knew you were patrolling with her you would bring her a corn muffin wrapped in fabric. she’d say something about how good of a cook you were or mumble a ‘fuck yeah’ before stuffing half the muffin in her mouth. if she killed any infected later she would say something like, “that was only for the muffin. you’re gonna need to bring me another before i do any more of your dirty work.”
occasionally, she would bring her guitar and show you some of the music she was writing in any downtime you had. she was always so excited too, saying something along the lines of: “let’s try to clear this area as fast as we can so i can show you my new stuff.”
when you sat in front of her, legs crossed in front of you, you watched as a bright blush spread across her face before she sang. 
“this is new, so take it easy on me, okay?”
at some point towards the end of december she came to your house with something wrapped in fabric. her whole face was red, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the snow or her nervousness as she shoved the present into your hand.
“what’s this?” you asked, eyes wide ushering her in from the snow and shutting the door behind you.
“it’s a christmas gift,” she smiled, “i don’t know if you know what christmas is but people used to celebrate it back in the old days. joel told me about it and now we celebrate it every year. it’s basically just a holiday where you give your loved ones… or friends a present. they used to pretend this big fat guy with a beard came down people's chimneys and gave presents to kids who were good but i guess they gave up that idea. santa probably got infected or some shit. anyways, this is for you.”
when you peeled back the fabric, a picture of you sketched out on charcoal was on a piece of thick paper. you looked beautiful. it almost looked as if ellie had spent hours looking at your face and studying all the tiny details of it. not to your knowledge, but she had. 
a gasp fell from your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. you didn’t even have time to thank ellie before you were squeezing her tightly in your arms, causing her to cough. you were literally hugging her so tight she couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t mind it. she took a deep breath and hugged you back, smelling the pine on your hair and skin. 
“i love it, ellie,” you whispered, “thank you.”
when january came around, ellie decided you didn’t know how to hold a gun. most of your shots were misses and the drawback made you stumble back. you were becoming a liability, but mostly ellie feared for your safety. all it took was one fall and you would never be the same again.
so here ellie stood giving verbal directions on how to hold a gun. you, however, were a mess who didn’t know your left from your right.
“your left foot! i said your left foot!”
“this is my left foot!”
“babe, that’s your right.”
“oh,” you switched legs but it wasn’t good enough. ellie came up behind you, placing her hands on your shoulder and fixing your posture. the heat from where her hands were on you radatied throughout your body and went straight down your legs. she stepped closer, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing it lightly. your breath hitched. 
“okay, now move your hand like this,” her free hand moved from the base of your arm to your fingertips. she adjusted your stance slowly. slow enough for it to feel like foreplay, “just like that. yeah, good girl.”
you could feel her breath on your neck where your scarf didn’t cover. it was all too sensual and then SNAP. a sound in the distance made her jump back and step in front of you, her own gun drawn in a matter of seconds.
your gun stance was never revisited after that. 
but now it was spring, and you would no longer be on patrol. as much as you liked spending time with ellie, it was still too much of a risk for you to take when you enjoyed farming so much. when you told ellie a big pout broke out on her face as she dramatically reached for you. 
“what am i going to do without you on patrol?” she whined, squeezing you so hard it made you laugh.
“we can still hang out,” you reminded her, pushing her off you, “plus maybe i’ll be back on patrol next winter.”
“yeah, but i liked having 8 hours of us time. now we will get like 4 hours a day max,” ellie leaned her head back on her couch, the dramatic pout still there. 
“how about we meet here every day after our shifts and have dinner together?” you offered, making her face light up, “i can cook and everything.”
“okay, but you have to sleep over at least once a week,” she demanded
“deal,” you smiled, teeth showing.
“if i’m not here though you can just let yourself in,” she casually commented, “i’ll give you a spare key.”
it went on like that for weeks, you coming over after your shift and making dinner and laughing with ellie about something joel or dina said until you eventually fell asleep on her couch. some nights you would watch a movie together, others you would bake something together (even though ellie usually tapped out when it came to cracking an egg). if ellie was running late or something you would make up time by cleaning up your mess from the kitchen or tidying up the living room, but by that time she would be stumbling through the door and apologizing for being late. 
this night, however, ellie was running extremely late. you had already cleaned both the kitchen and living room and there was still no sight of her. to avoid anxiously pacing around the room and waiting for her, you decided to clean her room. you swept the floors, wiped down her bedside table, and began making her bed before you noticed a notebook tucked in between her bed and it’s frame. 
you pulled it out of its place and examined it. it looked like it was frequently used, the edges of it torn and dirty. the yellow pages of the notebook were slightly hanging out and it looked like pages had been ripped out and stuffed back in. you shouldn’t read this, your mind rang clear. you wanted to respect ellie’s privacy, but curiosity got the best of you. 
you flipped to a middle page, skimming over some entry about how much joel was being an asshole before stopping at your name. your name in her notebook with hearts drawn around it. your name written in pink over and over again. below the different variations of your name was a paragraph, presumably about you. you read it in ellie’s voice.
“another successful patrol. and by successful i mean i tricked her into holding my hand. i probably sound like such a creep but all i want is to be close to her. i want to hold her hand as we walk down the streets of jackson and kiss her in a booth at the diner. when she got scared she would squeeze my hand a little. it made me dizzy. this crush feels like it’s going to ruin me. i think she may ruin me but i don’t even care. all i want is her.”
you smiled, flipping a page, heat rushing to your cheeks as you read another passage about you:
“i sang a song for her today that i wrote about her. she told me my voice was beautiful and asked who it was about. i panicked and told her it was about cat. fucking cat!!! i haven’t thought about cat in fucking forever. i just want to tell her already because this is so fucking embarrassing. she probably thinks i don’t like her but i do. what if she never knows? i’ll tell her eventually… i will.”
you sit down on her still unmade bed, reading the next page.
“i wanted to kiss her so bad today. ugh. her lips were all red and pouty from the cranberry juice and when she smiled her teeth were all red. she asked why i was smiling at her and i told her that her teeth were all red. she looked so embarrassed and got up to clean them. i felt like an asshole but that’s better than being rejected by her right?”
another one.
“we watched curtis and viper today after patrol. she cooked us chicken and then cried because it was her favorite chicken. this girl has the biggest heart in the world. when the movie was done we just talked about what life would be like if the apocalypse didn’t happen. she said she would have been a teacher or some kind of helping profession. she’s fucking sweet. i told her i’d probably be a dentist or a lawyer. something fun. i left out the part where i’d want to come home to her every night. i’m such a loser. i think i love her.”
the last part made you gasp, except the gasp wasn’t coming from your mouth, it came from the person standing in front of you. ellie.
“what are you doing with that?”
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blueraineshadows · 1 month
Text
A Kiss Between Friends
Sebastian Sallow x You ♥️
A one shot fic based on this artwork here by @rhewart As soon as I saw it, I was inspired ✨️
4.5k words. Tags: first kiss / teen romance / fluff / friends to sweethearts
“Are you going to ask Violet to Hogsmeade this weekend?” You asked, looking up from the book that lay open before you on your spread out robe. 
The sun was warm on your head, and Sebastian had to shield his eyes against the rays as he turned his head to look towards you from where he lay on his back, his own robe shrugged off and spread out beneath him on the grass. His face was a riot of freckles from the early summer sun, and his unruly hair was beginning to show hints of coppery gold through the brunette. His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced your way, his fingers pinching at his lower lip as he considered your question.
“And, why would I do that?” He asked.
“Because you fancy her,” you smirked, one hand propping up your chin whilst the other flipped the page in your book.
“I do not,” he scowled, a pink blush spreading across his cheeks as he feigned interest in a blade of grass he had plucked, twisting it between his fingers. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“You stare at her in class, and at the dinner table. I’ve seen you,” you said, your smirk widening into a grin. “You should ask her to Hogsmeade. You might even get a snog.”
Sebastian blew air through his lips in a huff of amusement. “I do not stare at her, and how would you know?” His eyes swung back to her, narrowing slyly. “Does that mean you have been staring at me?”
You felt your own cheeks flood with colour. “Absolutely not. There are far more attractive boys to drool over than you, Sallow.”
He slapped a hand to his chest dramatically and groaned. “Oh, you wound me, sweetheart. Such cruelty from your lips. Who do you drool over, then? Please, don’t tell me it’s Weasley or Prewett. I’m surprised I managed to lure you away from them this afternoon as it is, I shall go mad if you start snogging one of them.”
Your laughter spilled from your lips as you sat up straighter, reaching across to shove your Slytherin friend on his shoulder. “You’re not jealous are you? At least one of us would be getting some action if I managed to get a snog with one of them. I feel like I am the last girl in my dorm to even hold hands with a boy, let alone kiss one.”
Sebastian rolled onto his side, his lips twisted into a smirk as he caught your hand in his, his long fingers grazing gently along your palm as he grasped you more firmly. “I’ll hold your hand. I can’t have you feeling left out.”
Looking down at your joined hands, you uttered a little sigh, appreciating his efforts to be playful with you. The banter was not unusual between you both, you had been best friends for quite a while now, shared many adventures and secrets. Whilst chatting with the girls after lights out in the dorms was always fun, especially when it came to snogging, you appreciated the fact that you could also talk to Sebastian about such things. You knew he would never judge you, and he always had your back.
“Maybe I do feel left out,” you said quietly, your gaze dipping shyly. “I really am the last girl to kiss anyone in my dorm. Sometimes, I wonder if there is something odd about me.”
Sebastian immediately sat up. “There is nothing wrong with you at all. Just because you are waiting for someone worth kissing, it doesn’t mean you are odd. I think it’s actually quite lovely. I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone either.”
Your lips parted in surprise, your eyes meeting with his. “Really?”
His lopsided smile was unbelievably adorable, his blush spreading quickly as he shrugged his shoulders. He let go of your hand and brushed strands of hair from his forehead. “I’ve just never really had the opportunity to, I suppose.”
“If you ask Violet to Hogsmeade you will,” you suggested brightly.
Sebastian pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms about his legs as he frowned. “I hear you, however, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. Violet has definitely kissed someone before, and I would rather not make an idiot of myself.”
You raised an eyebrow as you looked at him. “Sebastian Sallow, top duellist and currently top of the 7th year academic table, is scared of kissing a girl. What would your fan club say?”
“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. He poked his tongue out at you before throwing his blade of grass into your lap. “You are supposed to be a brave Gryffindor, and yet you haven’t dared to kiss anyone either. I guess that makes us both scaredy cats.”
“We could always practise on each other,” you joked, hoping to take the frown off his face. It worked. He turned stunned eyes your way, his mouth agape.
“What?”
For some reason your pulse fluttered, heat flooding your cheeks at the stupid suggestion. “I…I was joking, of course. Don’t look so horrified.”
His face deepened into thought as he sat up straighter, his fingers pinching at his lower lip again. “Hang on, though. You might be onto something there,” he said slowly.
His eyes met yours, the depths gleaming with the excitement of an idea. You knew that look and swallowed hard. “If we kiss, it would break that pressure of the first time for both of us. A little bit of practice between two friends who trust each other, without all the expectation that comes along with impressing someone. It’s perfect!”
“Merlin…you’re seriously considering it!” You gasped.
“Think of it as unsanctioned research,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.
You stared at him, stunned, your eyes drifting down to gaze upon the shape of his mouth, and you actually began to wonder what it would feel like to press your own lips against the pink softness. Heat flooded your cheeks and you pressed your hands to them. “Wouldn’t…wouldn’t it be weird? I mean, we’re friends…”
“I guess there is only one way to find out.”
“Now?” You gasped, glancing hurriedly around you to see if anyone was nearby. There wasn’t. The pair of you had chosen a well secluded spot to sit and read during a free afternoon. The only sounds were the gentle waters of the nearby Black Lake, and the buzzing of summer insects.
“Why not?” He grinned and leant towards you, puckering up his lips with a teasing glint in his eyes.
Suddenly, your lungs felt rather tight, and your pulse throbbed with panic and anticipation. This was not how you had envisioned your afternoon with Sebastian panning out. Half of you was tempted to shove him away, scolding words on your tongue about him being indecent and a scoundrel. The other half of you was licking your lips and fighting the urge to lean in closer, to jump off the ledge into exploration, just to see what all the fuss over a snog was about.
Was Sebastian right? What harm could it do? You were friends. You trusted him.
“Okay,” you said quickly, summoning that Gryffindor courage.
Sebastian’s eyes widened and he stilled, sucking in a shaky breath. “Alright,” he said, a little nervously, perhaps not expecting you to agree.
But, you were all in now. 
Staring at him, you shuffled a little closer, your robe scrunching up beneath your legs. You were sure you were breathing too quickly, too loudly, and tried to steady the rush and flutter of nerves in your stomach as you wiped a sweaty palm against your knee. “One kiss on the lips, agreed?”
Sebastian nodded, his hair bouncing, his eyes fixed firmly on yours. Your breath was shaking as you leaned your head towards him, closer and closer, his scent filling your nose. It was familiar and comforting. He had hugged you before, many times, but you had never been this close to his face. You were sure you could see each defined freckle, the pores of his skin over his nose, long enviable lashes that framed wide, expectant eyes. You could pick out flecks of hazel and gold in the brown of his irises, the pupils enlarging as you came within inches of his face. As his lips parted with a soft breath, your gaze dipped to the slope and curve of his mouth. Bloody hell, you were going to kiss him!
Nerves squeezed you, a shaky breath quickly becoming a giggle that burst from your mouth, your cheeks flaming as you brought your fingers to your lips. Sebastian looked mortified. “I’m so sorry,” you gasped, more giggles spilling from you. “I’m sorry. I’m nervous…”
Sebastian flinched and pulled back, his own cheeks flooding with colour. “We don’t have to, you know,” he said awkwardly, pushing a hand through his hair. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry,” you said again, reaching out to put your hand over his. “My nerves got the better of me. Perhaps I am more shy than I thought. Maybe…maybe if you closed your eyes or something, so that you aren’t looking at me. It might be easier.”
Sebastian’s brow furrowed with uncertainty as he shifted, but then he nodded. “Alright,” he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Try again. I’ll close my eyes this time.”
You watched as his eyes closed, his lashes fanning out across the tops of his freckled cheeks as he tilted his face expectantly towards you. Taking a deep breath, you leant forwards again, nerves making your heart thunder in your ears.
Aiming for his mouth, you closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his in a quick kiss that made a smacker of a sound in the quiet surroundings. The soft warmth of his mouth was a shock against yours. Bloody hell, you had just kissed a boy!
Leaning back, your heart in your mouth, you opened your eyes to see his reaction. You were almost rigid with nerves, expecting him to have hated it. Sebastian’s eyes were still closed, his lips slightly parted, and his cheeks crimson.
“Again,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Properly this time.”
Again?!?
Speechless, you stared at him, but his eyes remained closed. Eyes fixed on his mouth, you brushed the tip of your finger over your lips, taking a deep breath before leaning forwards again. Now that you had done it once, you felt bolder, and you took your time as you pressed your mouth against his in a soft kiss. Lingering against the warmth, your pulse flickering like a dancing flame, you felt his lips apply pressure to yours in a return kiss.
Oh my…
All of a sudden, one kiss became two kisses, soft and tentative touches that made your lips tingle, and your stomach felt like liquid warmth. Three kisses…four…
Each press of lips became longer as you relaxed into the feel of it, your body feeling so hot and flustered, and yet, you also wanted to melt against him. Who knew that kissing could feel so…nice?
Sebastian’s lips were soft, and they slotted so perfectly against yours that it was so easy to keep doing it. As he tilted his head, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek as he pressed a longer, harder kiss against your mouth at a different angle, a thrill of searing heat spiralled up through your core. It was shocking, exciting, but also overwhelming. Gasping softly, you pulled back, your eyes opening to meet the deep, warm brown of Sebastian’s.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He said, his habitual smirk on his mouth.
No, it really wasn’t. In fact, you were at a loss for words as you looked at him. Managing a shy smile, you shifted backwards, biting your lip as they burned with the feel of his kisses. It was hard to ignore the rush of heat, the flutter of every nerve ending as you thought about it. The sneaking suspicion was already creeping over you that you had enjoyed kissing him a little too much, and that could make this very awkward.
“I guess that breaks the kissing barrier now,” you said, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. “There is nothing to stop you asking out Violet anymore.”
“Perhaps,” Sebastian said, adjusting his trousers and fiddling with his tie as he looked out over the lake, his cheeks still flushed. “I’ll think about it.”
Closing your book with a soft thump, you slid another glance his way, a strange, crushing disappointment beginning to snake up through your stomach at the realisation that he might actually ask Violet out this weekend. It was a rather startling and unnerving realisation that you didn’t want him to.
Touching your fingertips to your lips, you wondered if you had just made a huge mistake kissing Sebastian, because now it was all you could think about.
….*....
The Great Hall was bustling with students having dinner, the ceiling mirroring the soft summer sky outside filling the room with a warm, evening glow. You sat at the Gryffindor table, poking at the food on your plate as you replayed, yet again, the soft kisses you had shared with Sebastian near the lake this afternoon. Your head was consumed with the memory, your fingers straying to your mouth to touch where his lips had pressed so softly against yours. It left you breathless to remember the tingles and flare of warmth that had awoken within you, leaving you confused as to what this meant now. 
What had been a playful suggestion of experimentation between friends was now a suggestive promise of something new and enticing. Even now, sitting at the table, surrounded by your fellow housemates, your gaze was drawn towards the Slytherin table where Sebastian was sitting with Ominis.
Keeping your eyelids slightly lowered, you watched Sebastian through your lashes, noticing the way his hands moved when he spoke, the little tilt of his mouth when he was amused. How had you not noticed how handsome he was before? Was it simply that he had been right in front of you, so close that you hadn’t taken a moment to really study him? Was it because you were so comfortable within your bubble of friendship that you had not thought to seek anything more from him?
The touch of his kiss had changed all that, and you were staring at your Slytherin friend through new eyes.
“You have been poking at that potato for a good five minutes, and I’ve not seen you eat a mouthful yet,” Garreth said, leaning towards you. Looking up at him, you could see the glimmer of concern in the depths of his green eyes. “Is everything alright? Are you not hungry?”
Looking down at the dinner you had been pushing around your plate with an awkward smirk, you put down your fork with a sigh. “Not really, but I’m alright,” you said, managing a small smile for him. “I was just miles away.”
“Somewhere nice I hope,” he smiled, lifting his juice goblet. 
Your gaze drifted back towards the Slytherin table. Somewhere very nice.
Sebastian was smiling, leaning across the table as he spoke to someone, and you realised it was Violet. Perhaps he had plucked up the courage to ask her out after all. The dreamy look on your face froze, your eyes dropping down towards your uneaten dinner. Sickened at the sight, you pushed the plate away and moved to stand. Pausing as Garreth spoke your name with a look of concern, you waved him off with a strained smile. “I’m fine, honestly. I think I just need some air.”
Avoiding any more glances Sebastian’s way lest you see something you didn’t wish to, you swiftly left the Great Hall, wishing you could turn the clock back a few hours and get that comforting feeling of friendship to return that you feared you had lost.
….*....
The sun was setting when you returned to the castle, lights beginning to appear in the windows as you walked slowly through the huge doors and into the coolness of the corridors. Walking around the lake hadn’t really done much in the way of easing your troubled thoughts. Worried that you had damaged your friendship, you debated bringing it all up with Sebastian, worried that doing so would just hammer in a whole new level of separation between you. 
Unwittingly, your feet took you towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, the soft tap of your boots on the marble echoing down the halls as you headed towards the Undercroft. Checking over your shoulder, you slipped behind the staircase and entered through the clock, making your way down into the depths of the secret chamber. Laughter reached your ears, and as the iron grate lifted to grant you access, you could see Sebastian and Ominis sitting on a rug playing Exploding Snap. 
You smiled as Sebastian turned at the sound of your entrance, his gaze lingering on you, making you wonder if you were imagining the look in his eyes as they wandered downwards as you approached. Of course you were imagining it, he wanted to ask Violet out after all, you were just his practice kiss. Heart squeezing, you turned your attention towards Ominis, his head tilted as he listened to your steps, his lips curving into a slight smile.
“Good evening, little lion,” he said softly. “Would you like to join us?”
Glancing at Sebastian, you nodded and moved to sit down, choosing to situate yourself next to Ominis. The move didn’t go unnoticed, your gaze meeting with Sebastian’s as warmth flooded your face, the look between you lingering as he reshuffled the cards.
Pushing away any tempting thoughts about staring at his mouth, you focused on the game, feeling some of the tension relax from your shoulders as you laughed along with your two favourite Slytherins. Ominis was as sharp as ever, still managing to win two out of three games you played, his haughty smug pride making you chuckle as your gaze met with Sebastian’s yet again. Each look felt loaded with something heavier this evening, his eyes seemingly drawn to you and lingering for longer, your own gaze seeking him out and noticing more things that just hadn’t occurred to you before. 
His shirt sleeves were rolled up exposing his forearms, and this wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before, and yet now you noticed the defined lines of his muscle, the graceful way he held his hands. How had you not noticed how his long fingers splayed out in a way that made you wonder how it would feel to have them against your skin. His shirt collar was loosened, a tempting glimpse of collar bone peeking through the gap above where his tie was hanging scruffily about his neck, and your eyes were drawn to it against every effort not to stare at him. 
The angle of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the way his hair flicked around his ears, the dusting of freckles on his arms that had you wondering if he had them elsewhere on his body. His laughter sounded richer, his smiles more beautiful, and the wicked gleam in his eyes when he teased was now fanning the new flames that were igniting swiftly inside of you.
Godric’s balls. You were getting a crush on Sebastian. 
….*....
After a night of restless dozing, any sleep filled with dreams of smothering heat and soft lips, you struggled to keep focus in potions the next morning. The lack of concentration led to a rather impressive failure that rivalled anything Garreth could have caused, much to Sharp’s disgruntled disapproval. Feeling like a failure, and utterly baffled by the way your body was betraying you, it was with a resigned smile that you left potions as Garreth gave you a conspiratorial pat on the shoulder. 
Wandering along the corridor on the way to lunch, you wondered how long this apparent crush was going to cripple you, making you stare longingly across the classroom at Sebastian’s gorgeous face, only to blush furiously and dip your gaze when his eyes shifted your way in return. It was all rather foolish really, and he was going to wonder what on earth was wrong with you if you kept this up for too long.
“There you are,” a deep voice sounded in your ear, making you jump. Clutching your bag tighter against you, a blush staining your cheeks, you looked up at familiar brown eyes. His hand ghosted at the small of your back, invoking a shiver that you immediately tried to suppress, but he was already taking hold of your elbow. “Come on, I need to talk to you.”
Pulse quickening, you let him hurry you along, your other hand nervously tucking hair behind your ear. “Where are we going?”
Sebastian merely smirked and turned corners, marching along until he came to a door set amongst portraits in a quiet corridor, a swift unlocking charm had him dragging you inside and the door closed behind you both with a soft click. It was a cupboard stuffed full of all manner of oddities, your eyes glancing around in confusion.
“Did you just drag me into a cupboard?” You asked, incredulous, turning to look at him.
Sebastian blushed furiously, his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “I did,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I er…well, I was wondering...I was hoping…”
He groaned and closed his eyes, turning to pace up and down, tugging at his collar.
You frowned and began to fiddle nervously on the hem of your sleeve. “What is it?”
“Yesterday…” He paused, his look sheepish as he stepped closer. “Our unsanctioned research by the lake…”
Heat flooded your own cheeks and you shifted awkwardly. “Oh no, it’s going to be weird between us, isn’t it,” you said, your voice wobbling slightly.
“Oh, no, no,” he said quickly, his eyes widening as he held his hands up. “I don’t want it to be weird, not at all! You know me, I rather enjoy research, particularly the unsanctioned kind, and especially with you.”
You stilled, staring at him, your heart beginning to thump a beat harder.
His lips twitched with a hopeful smile. “I was wondering…maybe we should try a proper kiss, just in case…”
A gasp left your lips as you stared, your blood now fizzing madly with your racing pulse. You could see the hope and fear in his eyes, knowing him well enough to see that this had taken some courage to drag you in here and ask this of you. A glimmer of hope bloomed in your chest that maybe, just maybe, he had been thinking similar thoughts as you after yesterday.
As on edge as he looked, it was just too tempting to taunt the poor boy further, and you let a slow smirk spread across your face.
“Are you suggesting that yesterday, I did not kiss you properly, Sebastian?”
His mouth worked as a slight wince creased his brow, and your smirk widened. Then, his eyes narrowed, and his stance shifted into something much more like his usual bold, confidence. “I wouldn’t say that you didn’t kiss me properly, it’s more a case of I don’t think we gathered enough evidence to make a definitive conclusion.”
You raised one eyebrow and folded your arms. “Oh really?”
The smirk that lifted his lips made you swallow hard, threatening the demeanour of control that you were aiming for. How had you not noticed how utterly gorgeous he was before? It was borderline shameful how you had missed it. 
Sebastian stepped even closer. “Absolutely, and therefore, I recommend a second experiment. A more thorough experiment, if you’re willing.”
Dropping your bag to the floor, you stepped forward to meet him, tilting your head just so in order to look up into his eyes. Staring into their depths, you couldn’t even begin to question how right this felt. Apart from one little niggle.
“Did you ask Violet to accompany you to Hogsmeade?” You asked, holding your breath.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “How could I when I’m already going with someone else?”
Your brow furrowed. “Who?”
He leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to yours, his eyes blazing like a glorious sunset. “You, of course,” he said softly.
It was his turn to make the first move this time, pressing his mouth against yours in a firm kiss that made your eyelids flutter closed, your hands sliding up the front of his green plaid waistcoat. You had no idea how good it would feel to have his fingers glide along your jawline and sink deeply into your hair, pushing loose any pins you had used to try and make yourself look respectable this morning.
This had never been the plan when you had talked about this yesterday, you had only been meaning to prepare yourselves for kissing someone else, but your head was empty of anything but his kisses and touch in the low light of the storage room. It felt so right to cup his face, holding him in place as he kissed you with a slow thoroughness that made you part your lips in a soft gasp. But, he wasn’t done yet…
Taking advantage of your parted lips, he swiped a deliciously slow slide of his tongue along your lower lip, your heart racing as he tentatively pushed it into your mouth. You had read about kisses such as this, the very thought of it invoking day dreams that filled you with longing. The real thing stole your very breath, your mouth welcoming the silky, soft warmth of him with a low moan. His quickened breaths filled your ears as he kissed you deeply, the taste of him making your head spin as his hand moved to grasp your waist.
Sliding your hands up the back of his neck, your fingers explored the soft strands of his hair, your back arching as he urged you closer against him. He was solid and warm, he was everything you found comforting and familiar, and yet his mouth and hands were waking something new and so very exciting inside of you. 
It probably wasn’t skilled, or refined, your hands and mouths carefully exploring with daring and curiosity, but it felt so good. Sebastian felt so good. Why didn’t you see it before? How could it be anyone else but him?
Pausing, his lips damp and his breaths quick and hot against your cheek as he pressed his forehead to yours, you gazed up at him with your hands still curled into his hair.
“What’s the conclusion?” You asked. 
His hand caressed your cheek, his smile warm and soft as he brushed back your hair and traced the curve of your ear. “We need to keep practising,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve under your lower lip. “I reckon, in time, we could be rather good at this.”
“Well, don’t stop now,” you said, returning his smile. 
“So, I’m worth all the waiting then, am I?” He asked, that teasing gleam in his eyes.
“Easy now, Sallow,” you chuckled, a grin curving your mouth. “It’s going to take a few more practice sessions before I could possibly comment on that.”
“That can most definitely be arranged,” he murmured, before claiming your mouth once more in a bone melting kiss.
As always, huge love and thanks to my Discord girls for keeping me inspired. 💜✨️
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jamespotterismydaddy · 9 months
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Lord Husband (Chapter 1)
Cregan x reader
A/N: this is just gonna be a miniseries methinks
word count: 1,171
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“You look like an angel, my love.” Rhaenyra says as the handmaidens pin back your hair but you don’t feel like an angel; you feel like a pawn.
You have been meeting with suitors for nearly four moons and none have seemed to be good enough for you. Lannisters are too proud, Tullys bore you, and you can’t stand a single person with the name Baratheon. Your mother said that she was showing you a great kindness in allowing you to choose, a kindness that she didn’t appreciate enough when the young queen had the chance. You don’t care. You know you are just like she was when she was younger. You often wear that with pride but you know what it means in this scenario. You’re ‘too stubborn to appreciate what has been given to you’. Rhaenyra gave you the opportunity but she was no longer patient. A husband had to be chosen.
“Winterfell is very far.” Is all you say in response.
“Lord Stark is a good man. I would not have chosen him for you if I wasn’t sure of it.” She presses a kiss to the side of your head. “Just walk through the gardens with him. Get to know the man who will be your husband.” She pets your hair in a loving manner. You can’t seem to understand that she would only have the best for you, her only daughter.
You have yet to meet Cregan Stark but you already hate him, your betrothed, the man who will whisk you away from your family to the cold North. You resent the freedoms he is taking from you. You resent being separated from your family. You resent everything about him.
“He will treat you well, sweet girl. I know it.” You stand up now, wrapped in a silk gown and decorated with jewellery like a lovely little present for him. When you get to the gardens, he is already waiting for you with a blinding smile on his face. You have to admit that he is incredibly handsome. He is tall and his physique looks strong from years of training with the sword. A real Northern man.
“Princess, it is my pleasure to meet you. Our engagement brings great honour to my house.” He walks over to stand in front of you and you let him take your hand up for a kiss, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.
“Lord Stark.” Your voice is cold which seems to surprise him ever so slightly. You don’t give him a chance to say much else as you begin to walk through the gardens, leaving him in your dust. He looks at you in a bit of a stupor before quickly following after his pretty betrothed. 
“Would you like to take my arm, princess?” He politely offers his right arm to you. How proper.
“No.” You say simply as he speeds up a bit to stay in step with you.
“No?” He looks a little confused but chalks it up to teenage girls being a little strange. You give him no other response so he makes another attempt at conversation. “Have you ever visited Winterfell?”
“No.” He awaits to hear a sentiment of your excitement to see it soon but is disappointed when none comes.
“I am sure you will love it. It’s beautiful when there's a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. I’d say it’s the greatest place in all of Westeros but I suppose i’m biased.” He grins, mostly to himself, and then looks at you, hopeful for more of a response.
“Hmm.”  Is all you offer as a reply. Cregan finds himself dejected at his future wife’s lack of interest and he tries his best to shake it off.
“It does get cold of course but you’ll be more than warm enough in the castle. Most actually find it very cozy.” He gives you another smile that likely has most women melting in a puddle at his feet. For some reason it just irritates you more.
“Dragons don’t do well in the cold.” Your curt reply makes him cringe. He can’t understand what has given you such a sense of distaste towards him. Things are silent for a moment. He has no idea how to respond directly to your comment.
“Do you have any hobbies?” Another attempt it seems. The question makes you sigh. What a boring change of subject. 
“We don’t really need to speak.” You shock him with your words, with your bratty attitude. He’d expected you to be entitled but he didn’t expect you to be outright rude. He is a lord after all, the Warden of the North. He deserves some sense of courtesy from you.
“That is going to be difficult seeing as how we are to be wed.” He scoffs and you begin to fiddle with the rings that decorate your fingers.
“The only thing you need from me in this marriage is to fill my belly with your heirs.” You say. You know it’s harsh but it isn’t necessarily untrue. He seems to be taken aback slightly by your words.
“You don’t wish to get to know the man you’re going to marry?” He asks in disbelief. He seems like a romantic. You didn’t think people of nobility were allowed to be romantics. Though, simply knowing your husband better is a sad definition of romanticism.
“You ask many questions.” You roll your eyes and he does his best to hold his tongue and not say something stupid.
“And you answer practically none, princess.” There was a bit of bite in his words. He clearly believes that you’re acting like a spoilt child. 
Awkward silence fills the space between you both. You wonder if he may apologise to you and he earns a bit more of your respect because he doesn’t. It’s quiet for quite some time and you try to walk faster so that you may get to the end of the gardens before he tries to make conversation again. He never does and it isn’t long before the promenade comes to an untimely finish.
“Good day to you, my lord.” Poor Lord Stark looks like he’s rethinking all of his life choices when you say the words to him. What an ill fate for the man, marrying a cold Targaryen princess.
“To you as well, princess.” You don’t lift your hand up for him to kiss again and based on the fact that he looks like a kicked puppy, you know that he wanted to.
You leave quickly. You did your duty… technically. Your mother asked you to walk through the gardens with him and you did. Mayhaps you simply forgot about the getting to know him part. You wonder if he will retract his proposal, but who would ever retract a proposal to a princess? Maybe you’re delaying the inevitable, maybe you’re just full of old fashioned Targaryen spite but you have no wish to create a relationship with the man you’re meant to marry.
taglist(comment to be added): @valeskafics @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies
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gurugirl · 10 months
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A Good Boy | 1. Surrender
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Summary: Harry's got the hots for his young stepmom and she's pretty fond of him too. But they're both trying really hard to be good. Loosely based on this ask.
A/N: This is stepmom!reader x virgin stepson!harry. There is a 7 year age gap and Harry met her at the age of 19. He is 21 in this story.
Word count: 21.4k words
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, inappropriate relationship between a stepmom & virgin stepson, smut
A Good Boy Masterlist
Her husband, Leonardo, was the kind of man that could only be described as a provider. Not a lover, not a sweet man, not a gentle soul. Just a provider. Her mother asked her why she was marrying the older man, “Y/n he’s 15 years your senior! It’s preposterous! He’s rich but you can find real love…” She’d heard it all. But she was interested in having nice things. Being able to finish her art and history degree and go to the tennis club and shop with her girlfriends.
He also bought her the cutest little red Mercedes and the biggest diamond ring. And his house was- well it wasn’t just a house. It was an estate sat in the Hollywood hills near other celebrities and affluent humans (or robots she sometimes thought). She even had her own bedroom. It was an odd setup for sure, but a setup nonetheless.
Leonardo made it clear. He wasn’t looking for love. He was looking for a pretty thing with a good head on her shoulders that he could fuck when he needed and buy nice things for. Someone to bring with him when he had to show face at events and parties who could hold a somewhat intelligent conversation. She could do that. And he wasn’t a bad-looking man either. He was fit and tall with a deep voice and his deep pockets were just the cherry on top.
Did this make her a gold digger? She supposed that yes, it did. But what of her husband? This was what he wanted too. No one was being tricked. Everything was very simple and clearly defined. Down to the fact that she could sleep with anyone she wanted as long as she was discreet and didn’t give him the details. The same went for Leo.
Though Y/n hadn’t been interested in sleeping with anyone else, she was certain Leo did on his business trips and “boys-only vacations” he often took with his friends.
Y/n wasn’t bothered by the lack of love or the fact that her marriage wasn’t conventional. She was getting everything she wanted and she was happy. Sure a little intimacy was nice but she had close friends and so far, that was all she needed.
.           .           .
“Leo! Marla is here with the Uber! I’ll see you later!” She shouted toward his study as she made her way out the door. It was Friday night. Girl’s night. Every other Friday she, Marla, Cyndee, and Gina met at Murphy’s Lounge to dance and drink a few too many martinis. It was always fun. Sometimes she flirted with some man who wanted to dance. But never anything more. She could have if she wanted. More. She could have done more but she never felt the need. No one interested her enough to make that sort of leap into partaking in the open aspect of her marriage.
The bar was full, as it usually was at 8 pm on a Friday night. Gina and Cyndee had already secured a table and had cocktails in hand when she and Marla got there.
And just like every time the four of them got together, they acted as if they hadn’t seen one another in ages. Sometimes they could be overly dramatic in their greetings but they genuinely appreciated one another.
“Okay. The first round is on me, but the rest is on Daddy Leo,” Cyndee bubbled out her words in laughter.
Y/n playfully smacked Cyndee’s arm, “Oh so now you’re calling my husband Daddy?!” She rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, I am. He’s a Daddy, Y/n. Like, there’s no way you don’t call him Daddy when-“
Y/n placed her hand over Cyndee’s mouth, “Oh my god you’re too much sometimes! No more talk of Leo! The rest of the drinks are on him and we’ll leave it at that,” she laughed.
That was usually how it went. Leonardo picked up their girl’s night tab and paid for their taxis or Ubers.
“Okay. We’re just gonna get our drinks and we’ll be right back.” Marla swept Y/n off to the bar so they could order their usual drinks. For Y/n it was a nice stiff lemon drop martini.
Marla ordered a whisky sour, with extra orange slices and then rambled on about Ryan, her on-again, off-again boyfriend. They were on again at that moment but she was wearing thin, once again.
“Why do you do it to yourself, Marla? If you want to be done then just be done. You’ve tried and it hasn’t worked. I feel like you could do better anyway. Ryan’s nice but I think you two have run your course.”
“Ughh… I know, Y/n. God do I know. Easier said than done. There’s so much history, and friends in common. And we have a fucking dog together! I just… I don’t know.”
The bartender handed them their drinks and then Y/n gave the guy her credit card, “Please put this card in place of Cyndee Daniels tab. We’ll use this one instead.”
Josh was the bartender that evening. A cute college-aged young man with a bright smile who always remembered her name.
“Of course, Ms. Y/n. Will swap these out. As usual.” He winked.
She leaned over the bar as she took a quick sip of her martini while Josh went to retrieve Cyndee’s card. She looked down the bar at the faces of other patrons and suddenly was met with the clear green eyes of Leo’s son, Harry. Her stepson. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her and it wasn’t as if Y/n had done anything wrong but she just hadn’t expected to see him there.
She leaned up again, peering around the woman sitting on the stool to her left and her eyes landed on the young man. Freshly shorn dark curls and a soft pink smile crooked up as he spoke animatedly to the guy sitting next to him. And just as she assumed he hadn’t seen her he turned and looked at her squarely, his lips moving as he spoke something to his friend then nodding in acknowledgment at Y/n before pulling himself off the stool he was on and making his way across the bar to her.
“Is that Harry?” Marla spoke as she leaned in.
“Yes, it is.”
Harry was a nice young man. He was polite, sometimes overly polite she thought, and he was charming. Y/n liked Harry. She didn’t know him all that well. He lived on campus at the university so she saw him rarely. But she did recognize that he’d cut his hair. He had long dark curls when she first met him. He looked like a bad boy, covered in tattoos with a permanent smirk on his face. But once she got to talking to him, she realized, he was a big sweetheart really. The long dark hair and tattoos were just a look. A style. Harry was a nice young man.
The truth was, all the girls joked about how attractive Leo and his son were. Both men were quite handsome. Y/n couldn’t deny that. Harry was tall like his father and built nicely. Long legs and a well-muscled chest. A great jawline and crystal green eyes that allured.
“Hi, Y/n. Marla,” Harry spoke as he looked from Y/n to Marla.
And that was another thing about him. He always remembered everyone’s name. He had met Marla maybe twice, yet here he was drinking beers at a bar and remembering the name of Y/n’s best friend whom he barely knew.
“Hi Harry,” Y/n smiled up at him, “Like the hair,” She reached up and whisked a finger into a short curl before bringing her hand back down into her own space.
Harry smiled broadly, a glorious dimple digging into his cheek as he raised an arm and ran his long fingers through his soft dark hair, “Oh! Yeah. Thank you. Got it cut a few weeks ago. Still getting used to it. Um, how are you doing?”
“Good. Girl’s Night, you know,” she shrugged and looked over at Marla who stood next to her, “We’re here every other Friday for some dancing and drinks,” when she turned her gaze back to Harry’s his soft eyes were intently watching her as she spoke. “Um, yeah. How are you? How’s school?”
Harry tipped himself forward to his toes and then lowered back down to his normal height, “Good. S’good. Already looking forward to Spring break,” he chuckled.
“Oh yeah! Me too. I’m not even in school anymore and I’m already making plans,” she chuckled.
Suddenly something dawned on Y/n. Her eyes went wide and then she squinted as she looked at her stepson, “Wait. You’re not 21. You’re too young to be here, Mister.”
Harry snorted a laugh and nodded, “I know. I know. But I’m turning 21 in two weeks. Figured I’d try out my fake ID once in my life. Before it’s too late,” he grinned.
“So you’ve never done this before?”
“Nope. First time. And of course, my stepmom is here when I do. Just my luck.”
Y/n laughed and her smile almost hurt her cheeks it was so wide.
A small jab to her side reminded her that Marla was still standing there, “Oh, sorry. Yeah. We should be heading back. We’re just over there if you want to stop by and say hi to the girls.” She pointed to the table where Cyndee and Gina were already watching the scene.
“Sure. Yeah. Of course. Um, it was really nice to see you, Marla,” Harry smiled gently at her and then looked back down to Y/n, “I’ll come by and say hi before I leave.”
The moment Y/n got to the table Cyndee pulled her arm, “Your stepson. Oof. He’s really attractive. Have you and him ever… you know?” She joked. Of course, Cyndee knew better.
“Oh stop it! Of course not! He’s a 20-year-old kid!” Y/n spoke in exasperation.
“You’re only 27, Y/n. You’re not much older. In fact, you’re closer to his age than you are to Leo’s,” Gina said.
Now Gina was usually the voice of reason so to have her on Cyndee’s side was ludicrous. Of course, she knew Cyndee was teasing but still.
Y/n took her seat and rolled her eyes as she took a healthy gulp of her sweet and tangy martini.
“And his haircut. God, he’s adorable like that. Damn,” Marla spoke next to her.
The music eventually began to grow louder and the martinis were going down far too easily. Especially after dancing and working up a sweat away from her seat. But one thing that didn’t change through the night was that her eyes kept finding Harry’s. It was like she couldn’t stop glancing over at him. But it didn’t help that every time she dared to peek he was looking at her already.
She couldn’t be sure that he was watching her dance but there was something about just the idea that he might be that had her swaying her hips a little more sensuously and using her hands to rub down her body like she was some kind of sexpot. But in truth, her dance moves were definitely subpar. But three martinis will tend to make one feel unnecessarily bold.
Y/n decided on just one more drink. A fourth martini to round out the night, plus she wanted to walk up to the bar near Harry and talk to him a little bit more. Just a friendly little tease about how he was only sitting and not dancing. Even his friend had gotten off the stool and danced with a young woman on the dance floor for a bit.
“You’re not really making the most of this special night, Harry,” she elbowed at his arm gently as she leaned over the bar to wave at Josh.
“What do you mean?” Harry’s eyes were a little red and he was quite obviously a little drunk.
She looked down at his wetted lips and back up to his pretty eyes, “You’re not even dancing. Just sitting here like a lump drinking beer after beer.”
“Ms. Y/n, another lemon drop?” Josh spoke as he put his hands on the bar top in front of her.
“Yes, please, Josh, and close it out too. I think all the girls are done for the night.” She laughed.
She turned back to look at Harry, “So no girls here you want to dance with? Even your buddy got out there a little bit. Where is he by the way?”
Harry turned around and looked over his shoulder for his friend and shrugged, “Maybe shagging in the bathroom. Haven’t seen him in a while now that I think of it. And no. No girls here I want to dance with.”
Y/n pouted and tilted her head as she reached up to touch his hair again, “I’ve seen a bunch of pretty girls around your age here, Harry. Some even checking you out. You should get out there and dance a little. Really fully experience Murphy’s Lounge,” she looked over her shoulder and then leaned in to speak quietly, “It’s your last chance with your fake ID,” she smiled as she tugged his curl the smallest bit.
Harry smirked, “Child abuse!” Craning his neck away from her fingers, he patted at his hair as if the tiny tug had hurt.
She rolled her eyes as Josh returned with the drink and her card, “See you in a couple weeks.” He smiled at her before returning to the other customers.
Harry’s features became serious again, “You know him?”
Y/n sipped her martini and nodded, “Yeah. We’re here often enough. So, yeah.” She shrugged keeping her eyes on her adorable stepson. Okay, maybe it was more like adorably handsome stepson, but still.
“Come. I’m gonna put this away,” she lifted her card upward as she motioned him to follow her, “And you and I are going out there to dance a little. We’ll find you someone cute to groove with a little.”
She expected Harry to protest a bit but he didn’t. He stepped in behind her and followed her to her table with his beer in hand. He stayed close to her as she bent down to slip her credit card into her purse. The security in the room always watched their table so no one took their things or tampered with their drinks (and the nice little tip Y/n, by way of Leo, didn’t hurt either).
“Leave your beer here. We’re gonna need our hands free!” she giggled as she pointed at the table.
“You’re okay to leave your drinks out like this? Thought that was a big no-no.”
Y/n looked in the direction of the man standing a few feet away, “He’s watching over the table. Now come on!”
The floor was packed with warm bodies moving and gyrating. The music was loud and the rhythmic base could be felt underfoot. She’d long lost sight of the girls as she began to sway and raise her arms upward.
Harry stayed close to his stepmom’s side and shuffled around a bit. His body was a bit stiff but he laughed when Y/n grabbed his hands and made him spin, “Loosen up a bit! Come on, Harry!”
Rolling his eyes he grinned and began to dramatically move about, trying to feel the beat and push down how awkward his movements felt.
Y/n kept her hands on his to encourage him to move with her and they both laughed as Harry began to relax into it a bit. His big smile only widened as the song was switched up to something that felt quite naughty and suggestive.
She released his hands because it felt like he was getting the hang of it. Not to mention she was beginning to enjoy the way his big hands fit around hers. And that couldn’t happen.
She turned around and continued swinging her hips and, moving with the rhythm as best she could. Long moments went by and she closed her eyes and allowed herself to get back into the swing of dancing and feeling the freedom and excitement of her night.
A hand pulled at her hip from behind and she opened her eyes and turned to see her stepson towering over her from behind. She hadn’t expected the sudden grip he had on her so she turned in confusion causing his palm to fall away. Harry looked over her shoulder and then dipped down to speak into her ear, “A man came over and was just about to try something with you. Wanted to discourage him a bit. Sorry.”
Y/n followed where he was looking and there was indeed a man there looking at her. And it wouldn’t have been too out of the ordinary for this to happen. She dealt with these things well usually. Sometimes she’d dance a little and flirt a little but that was it. It didn’t bother her. It was all in fun.
She chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shoulder to speak in his ear, “You don’t have to worry about me, Harry. I can take care of myself. I’m a big girl. But thank you.”
Harry licked his lips and turned his face toward her to speak, “I know you’re all grown up. Just didn’t want to see that with my own eyes is all.” His words were spoken close to her ear, his deep baritone vibrating from her neck and over her ear as she turned to look at him, only he didn’t move his face away and their gazes connected for a moment longer than felt innocent.
She swallowed and a small smile plucked upward on her lips, “Okay. Do you want to stay close then? Protect from the predators while I dance?” Her smile widened and she laughed but Harry’s smirk felt like something just the opposite of funny as he looked down over her face and to her neck and then over her lips.
“I’m not going anywhere,” his smirk remained as he shook his head and then in a surprise motion turned her around to face away and put both hands at her hips as they began dancing together.
She could feel his heat from behind her and his fingers held onto her hips possessively but she liked it. Especially when her hips moved to the beat and Harry’s hips moved behind her. He wasn’t pressing himself into her backside but she could feel him moving with her. He was keeping a polite distance. Though, everything that was happening was very inappropriate.
It was inappropriate because she liked it. Because this attractive young man behind her was looking at her in a way she noted was not innocent. Because she’d been obviously flirting with him at the bar. Because Harry was her stepson.
When the beat dropped low and the song slowed to something even more provocative and playful they both slowed and she felt Harry’s thumbs on the bit of skin exposed between the bottom hem of her blouse to just above her skirt’s waistline. His grasp on her skin was burning into her flesh, his fingers gently brushing and then squeezing at her.
“You’re not a bad dancer,” Harry remarked into her ear and she felt his chest press into her back.
And without thinking too deeply about it, or perhaps it was the martinis that left her so uninhibited, she dropped her head back and toward his mouth and felt his lips at her ear, “I’m a terrible dancer. But thank you anyway.” She laughed.
Harry chuckled into her ear, not backing away from how she’d leaned into him but instead pulling at her just enough that his fingers pinched her waist and she could feel him smile as he spoke against her ear, “Nothing about you is terrible, Y/n.”
His deep tone gave her a chill and goosebumps traveled down her neck and over her bare arms. Her good sense had been momentarily suspended as she smiled and dared to move her bottom into his hips.
When she heard his groan in her ear she closed her eyes and placed her hands over his, pressing his hands flat over her waist so she could feel his long fingers under hers, feel his warm palms digging into her skin.
“Better stop. I’m getting a little,” Harry suddenly backed off, his hands releasing her hips and she turned to look up at him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed and his pupils were large, making his soft greens appear dark and heavy as he looked at her with an unmistakable glint of lust. She was sure she looked the same.
“Of course. Yeah. It was fun, though,” she smiled as she began to head back to the table. Harry followed.
They slid into the booth and took their drinks, letting the music of the bar fill in the gaps of their silence.
Y/n realized she was wet. She scolded herself inwardly. Her stepson was off-limits. Hell, to her most men were off limits because she was married (despite her open marriage). But especially Harry. She didn’t know if she should apologize or just let everything that had happened slip away without acknowledgment.
They were both drinking and so that had something to do with her behavior. With his. But mostly hers because she was the stepmom. She should have known better.
“Sorry we didn’t find you a cute girl to dance with,” she offered as she rounded her eyes and grinned, trying to make light of everything and ignore what had just happened between them.
Harry shook his head and looked down at his beer, then shifted his eyes to hers, “I think we did find me a cute girl to dance with,” he licked his lips and huffed a laugh shaking his head again as he lifted his beer.
“I’m done done done! Some guy bought me two shots. On top of the four cocktails I had. I’m fucked. I need to get out of here so I can crash into bed. You okay to leave with me?” Marla was suddenly plopping down at the table as she slurred her speech.
Y/n laughed, glad for the interruption. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Harry’s comment, “Yeah. We can get out of here. Where’s Gina and Cyndee?”
Marla pointed at the edge of the dance floor. Two men flanked them with drinks in hand.
“As you can see, they’re fine.”
Marla, Y/n, and Harry stopped by to say goodbye to Cyndee and Gina before leaving the loud bar. The night air was sobering as she used her Uber app to call for a taxi. Harry stayed with them, like the gentleman he was until their ride showed up.
Marla flung herself into the car as Y/n squeezed Harry’s arm, “Thanks, Harry. I’ll see you… I don’t know when, but this was fun! Yeah? Oh! It’ll probably be for your birthday, right? Party at our house. That’s right,” Y/n was mostly talking to herself. They were throwing him a party. Of course, it was going to be a big bash. Tons of college kids and family and drinking since he was turning 21.
Harry nodded, “Yeah. Weekend after next. Saturday. I think I’ll come over Friday night and stay the whole weekend.”
.           .           .
Harry had always liked Y/n. She was sweet to him from the start. Right off he could tell she wasn’t like Leonardo’s other girlfriends. He’d gone through a lot of them and when he decided he liked Y/n enough to keep around, Harry was genuinely happy about it. His dad was kind of cold and overly structured at times but he always took care of his family and Harry wouldn’t mind having Y/n around. He was 19 when he met her.
Harry’s mom left Leo when he was just a boy. She remarried years later and Harry hadn’t seen her so happy ever. He chalked it up to his dad’s standoffish behavior. He barely showed Harry, love, even. But It was okay for Harry that way. His mom was warm and raised him well. She showed him more love than he’d ever need in a lifetime. She made up where his dad lacked.
So for that, Harry did feel a bit sad, for Y/n, who had such a bright smile and contagious laugh, to marry such a cold creature as his father. The kind that his mother left. His friends joked that Y/n was a gold-digger and they urged him to try and mess around with her. See how far he could take it. But that was out of the question. Not because his stepmom wasn’t smoking hot, but because she was his stepmom. There was just so much wrong with that.
It did irk him, though, that he found her so pretty. But it wasn’t just that. She was smart too. She was easy to talk to and she could keep up with Harry’s little goofy jokes and she never took herself too seriously. Despite having her lips painted red and wearing high-fashion couture courtesy of Leonardo Styles, she was fun and kind.
Harry also benefited from his dad’s money, though. Just because he opted to live with his mother until college didn’t mean he didn’t have everything he wanted. A nice car, nice clothes, vacations with friends, concerts, sporting events, the newest cellphone. Leo didn’t bat an eye if Harry wanted something. And eventually even gave him a credit card to use for anything he wanted.
Yeah, Leo Styles was fucking wealthy. Dirty wealthy. The kind that people hate to see because it’s so excessive and unnecessary that it’s ugly.
But what could Harry do? His dad was a little cold and filthy rich. He didn’t control how his dad dealt with his money, though plenty of people also lumped Harry in with all that. Assumed he was some spoiled rotten brat who’d grow up like his father.
And that was just the thing, though. His dad wasn’t mean or bad per se. He was just rich because of the Styles’ family fortune. And he rarely showed any emotion. His dad did do nice things for the community and donated to good causes, threw fundraisers, and funded schools for children with special needs and gymnasiums for the local children who didn’t have a place to go and play freely.
And he wanted a wife that was smart and pretty. Someone with a brain who could handle a good conversation with grace. Harry understood the arrangement well. There was no love involved but it was a marriage of convenience for both of them. No harm, no foul. Harry didn’t mind it. Others seemed to have heavier opinions about it, though.
“Damn, Harry. You gotta do something about that. She keeps looking over here at you. While she looks like that? Let’s get your v-card taken care of once and for all.”
“Stop it, Jay. She’s my stepmom.”
“So? You told me yourself she’s just married to your dad for the money-“
“No, that’s not what I said. And it doesn’t matter what kind of thing she and my dad have going on. It’s not gonna happen.”
“God look at her. She’s fucking fine, Harry. She wants you too. I can tell. Look you don’t have to take my advice but this one,” he said as he gestured toward Y/n, “She’s a tiger in bed. I guarantee. Look at her move. Bet she could show you a thing or two.”
Harry shoved Jay and shook his head as he looked away before he was caught staring at his stepmom again.
She was hot. Her skirt was short and her little top kept riding up so he could get the tiniest peek of her waistline each time she raised her arms. Harry didn’t want to let his mind wander to those kinds of places. He’d already recognized how gorgeous she was. Liked her personality and how funny she was. If she were younger and not his stepmom, maybe. Maybe.
“Rebecca’s over there. I’m gonna go dance with her a bit. Sheila is too. You should come out and dance! Meet someone! Get laid!”
Harry sighed and sipped his beer as he leaned away from Jay’s arm, “No thanks.”
He did want to get laid of course. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have found a willing participant. It just hadn’t ever happened. He’d messed around a bit but in all honesty, Harry had a hard time wrapping his mind around a quick fling or something that was only sex. He liked connection and love. Wanted that whole thing with someone before getting to that point in the relationship. He knew it was silly to take it so seriously. And it wasn’t like keeping his virginity was his goal. It was just that he wanted it to be with someone special. Yeah, he was a bit of a sap like that.
But no one would know it really. That Harry was a big sap. A virgin at almost 21. Only his closest friends knew and they were sworn to secrecy. People assumed Harry had had lots of sex. That he was fucking people left and right. Because Harry was a flirt. He was super smooth and confident and charming. The kind of man people would imagine just had tons of sex. Plus he was incredibly attractive.
When Y/n was suddenly stood next to him at the bar, sweat at her hairline and soft lips with a cute smile as she spoke to him closely about how he was just sitting at the stool, not making the most of his first time in a bar with a fake ID, he felt his stomach twist. Maybe it was her scent, or the alcohol coursing through his veins, or the way she kept looking at him while she was dancing. Whatever it was, he knew he’d just moved into dangerous territory in his mind.
But she pulled at his hair and licked her lips and stood close so she could speak in his ear and he was easily convinced to finally get up and go dance with her.
Dancing wasn’t really a big deal to him. He wasn’t shy to dance. He honestly didn’t care all that much what people thought of him. He just didn’t want to get out there and dance while she was dancing like that. While she was looking at him in that way. Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Something had slipped out of its normal position for Harry that night. He was thinking of his stepmom in very inappropriate ways and he was powerless to stop the indecent thoughts he had about her body and her lips and her voice. It was so wrong.
When he turned her around and put his hands on her hips he allowed his fingers to wander over her skin to the very spot he’d been watching each time she lifted her arms. But this time he pushed the material up to give the pads of his fingers access. And she didn’t stop him.
Her hair smelled good and when he spoke against her ear she got goosebumps. Fucking goosebumps from his voice in her ear.
But then the unthinkable happened and she pressed herself into his front. And luckily she was just off to the left a bit because had she been to the right another inch or so she’d have felt him. He was thick under his dark jeans and it was because of his stepmom.
Her skin and her lips and her hair and the way she smelled and reacted to him. But he had to stop. He backed away knowing that it was the smart move. Hating that it was the smart move.
He came down the shower drain imagining Y/n on her knees with his cock down her throat, gagging and urging him to go in deeper that night after the bar. He closed his eyes and yanked himself and he orgasmed so embarrassingly fast to the image of her. His stepmom. That was the first time he’d masturbated to Y/n’s image. And it felt dirty. It felt forbidden and disgusting.
But then he did it again the following evening in his bed. He was thankful for having his own room in the frat house. Stroking his cock as his thighs quivered and his head was thrown back into the pillow under him, imagining Y/n riding his cock and showing him what she liked had him gasping as he came all over himself.
He tried to move on and get things back to normal in his brain about her. The way they were before that night at the bar. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Part of that was because of how she responded to him, flirted with him. The way she was looking at him and how she danced with him. He knew he didn’t imagine it. She was into it. And now that he knew that… well, the result left Harry tugging one out to his stepmom every night thereafter.
.           .           .
The party was going to be big. Leonardo told Harry to invite everyone he wanted. And of course, he and Y/n invited their friends too.
There was a DJ, a catering staff with bartenders and lots of presents.
Y/n was helping with the setup. Friday was busy for her, the day before the party. She’d almost forgotten about Harry mentioning he’d be coming on Friday to stay the whole weekend. Almost.
In fact, she hadn’t forgotten at all. She tried pushing that memory down but it was still there, underneath everything. Her nerves were wild as she helped direct some of the landscapers and people bringing gifts in from the guests. Tables and chairs, and a dance floor laid near the area where the DJ would be set up. Speakers were placed all over the estate so music could be heard no matter where anyone was.
She was in sweat shorts and a tank top and tennis shoes with no makeup. She had wanted to shower and get freshened up a little at least. Before Harry arrived. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure he actually would come that evening as he said.
But then she laughed at herself worrying so much over how she looked to her stepson. A silly silly girl, she thought to herself. Who cares? Why should she care? She was doing all this for his birthday party anyway. And she was his stepmom.
Looking down at the placement of the dance floor tiles being installed she allowed her mind to drift to that night at the club. His warm skin, his deep voice. The way he handled her like he knew what he was doing… She hated that she had been allowing those kinds of thoughts to trickle in about him. Hated, hated that two days ago when she had sex with Leo it was Harry she was thinking about.
She felt like a nasty and disgusting woman. A pervert.
In the early afternoon, the landscapers had gone and the garden looked like it was ready to be filled in with hundreds of people ready to party. She was proud of the way it turned out. It all looked great.
But she was hungry. She’d eat then shower. Hopefully, before Harry arrived. If he arrived that evening.
The chef’s kitchen had a lovely granite island with unstained walnut and wide plank hardwood floors. The refrigerator was ridiculously large. Opening up the state-of-the-art appliance she peered inside trying to find something quick to eat. She planned on having cheese tortellini later on. Leo was out for the day and told her not to wait up. That he would be back late. Some conference or something. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be gone for hours or days. She enjoyed the quiet and loved to eat simple dishes when he wasn’t around. Things that she craved like macaroni and cheese, fish sticks, or cheesy tortellini, and a bottle of wine.
She settled on yogurt and a double serving of granola as she sat at the island. She just needed an in-between lunch and dinner snack to tide her over.
Just before she scooped her last bite into her mouth she heard footsteps and then his voice, “Anyone home?”
She quickly scrambled off her stool and stood up just as he entered the kitchen. His dark curls were perfectly placed on his head and he wore a colorful Hawaiian-style shirt and black jeans with leather Chelsea boots.
“Hi! Yeah, was just eating a snack. Uh, make yourself at home, Harry!” Her tone was a bit too perky and she cringed at how silly she sounded.
Harry smiled gently and nodded as he dropped his gaze to her legs and back up, “Yes ma’am. Just gonna take this up to my room first.” He lifted his duffle bag, “Looks really good out there,” gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder, “Looking forward to it.”
“Oh, so glad you like it. It was some work to get everything just right. The guys setting up were so great, though. There are still a few more things to finish up tomorrow but I think for now we’re on track. But um…” she walked to the sink to rinse her bowl out as she looked over her shoulder at Harry, “I’m, uh… just headed to take a shower, though. Haven’t had the chance yet today. So…” she trailed off her sentence. None of what she was saying mattered to him at all. She was sure of that.
Harry puffed out a quick little laugh, “Okay. Yeah. Well, I’ll be in my room.”
Her shower was delightful but her nerves weren’t soothed. She was wound up tight and now that her stepson was here in her house, alone with her… she closed her eyes to compose herself. A ridiculous woman. A dirty and perverted creep. Who thinks of their stepson in this way? It’s absolutely disgusting. Immoral. Depraved. Evil. But it had all begun with that night and the way he danced with her. Innocent. Until it wasn’t.
She stayed in her room for a while. Not sure how she should go about acting casually in front of Harry. After that night at the bar, how could she? They had crossed a line. She had crossed a line. She took responsibility for this whole mess in her mind. She was the one at fault. Harry was only 20. Well, 21 now. Technically his birthday was today.
Fuck! She’d forgotten to wish him happy birthday!
Pulling her leggings up and slipping on a t-shirt she huffed as she paced the room. Well, now she had to go and tell him and also apologize for the state she was in when he arrived and how she’d forgotten and…
Calm down. He probably doesn’t even care, Y/n.
Knocking at his cracked-open bedroom door she peeked in to see that Harry wasn’t in there. She looked down the hallway and for some strange reason she stepped into his room and her eyes landed on his laptop that was open.
Porn.
He was watching porn. Y/n let out a surprised laugh and shook her head. She was overstepping so many boundaries. She looked at the screen as she moved away, intending on leaving his bedroom and going to find him when her eyes landed on the title of the video he had up.
Stepmom and Stepson Share a Bed
Her pulse grew fast and her palms began to sweat. Of course, perhaps that meant nothing. Perhaps that was just something he was watching that he found hot and didn’t realize it was stepmom porn or something…
She backed herself out of the room quickly but when she felt his hands on her shoulders and his voice, that fucking voice that sounded like sex, “You okay? Nearly ran me over-“
But he stopped short, a sharp inhaled breath into his lungs cutting off his words. He looked at the bed where his laptop was open and realized what she’d seen. He’d been saving his favorite stepmom porn videos lately. This one was just up. He wasn’t actually watching it before he’d stepped out of the room. It had just been on the screen when he closed out the Word doc he was working on for an essay at school.
“Fuck.” He whispered and released her shoulders, “Y/n, I… look that was just-“
Y/n turned with wide eyes and held her hand up quickly, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here. I was looking for you to um… I was gonna wish you a happy birthday, and I… I’m the one that should be sorry. That…” she pointed toward his bed, “I shouldn’t have seen that.”
Harry was embarrassed. He felt like crawling under the bed and staying there til the day he died. Never to be seen or heard from again. He was so careless to leave that up like that.
He swallowed and ran his hands over his face and shook his head, “Oh my god. Fuck.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Y/n placed her hand on his forearm and pulled one of his arms down, “Look at me.”
Harry opened his eyes and looked at her like she asked, “No worries okay? That was just nothing. It’s just porn. Everyone looks at porn. It’s normal. Okay?”
“Watching stepmom porn is normal?”
Y/n swallowed. She didn’t think he’d directly come out and say that, “Well… I mean… sure. If there’s a category on Pornhub for it that means someone likes it. You’re not the only one.” She tried to laugh but it died in her throat when Harry clenched his jaw and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling.
“And besides,” her fingers tightened over his arm, causing him to look back down at her, “it’s not like that’s about me anyway. Come on… it’s just porn. So don’t-“
“Of course, it’s about you, Y/n. Why else would I be interested in that kind of thing?”
She let go of his arm and she felt like she could faint. She grasped onto the door jamb and wobbled as she looked down at her feet to steady herself and then back up at Harry.
“Are you okay? Here, let’s sit.” Harry took her arm from the door jamb and slowly guided her to her sit down on his bed where he promptly shut his laptop and moved the forsaken thing away from them, hidden from view.
“I’m okay,” she put her hands up and blinked her eyes as she turned to look at Harry next to her on the bed. “I didn’t expect that is all. That it had anything to do with- I just…”
“But that night at the club. That was… well… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I know that’s inappropriate.”
Y/n bit her bottom lip and nodded before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. I guess. Me too.”
“You too? What?”
She turned to look at his verdant crystal eyes, “I can’t stop thinking about it. And it is inappropriate. And I take all the blame. It was my fault that it even got as far as it did. I’m sorry, Harry.”
Harry shushed her and took her hand, “No. Don’t be sorry. This isn’t just on you. I’m an adult too, Y/n. This is on me just as much. So, I’m sorry. I feel like I probably pushed it that night. I was the one that touched you and made up that story about that guy.”
She recollected that night and the short conversation they had about the guy that was trying to dance with her when Harry had put his hand on her hip. The man was looking at her so she thought what he said was true. She hadn’t even questioned it, “You mean that man… that he wasn’t… you did…” she couldn’t finish her thought. It was. A lot. That revelation felt dense with just enough muscle to peel away some kind of layer of wool that had been placed securely over the situation in safety.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know what got into me that night. I really didn’t mean for any of this- It’s… my fault. I started it. I’m really sorry.”
She felt like they were somewhat on even ground now. He’d done that. She wouldn’t absolve herself of blame. No, not at all. She was still the heavy in this situation. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel exonerated by his admission. She was seven years older and his stepmom. She was ultimately to blame.
“God, Harry. Please. I’m…” she paused. His gaze on hers was hard to break. His soft mint eyes made him appear so pure and blameless. But then his deep raspberry lips, darkly pigmented against his face were seductive. Harry was like a siren. An enchanter. He was beautiful.
“No. You’re… amazing and I’ve just gone too far. It’s okay. This is silly,” he laughed and disconnected their eye contact as he looked downward, “This is-“ he looked back up at her and felt his heart thrum hard in his ribs, “silly.” His last word, just a whisper. A word he didn’t believe.
She shook her head, keeping her eyes on his, “And you surely have other options anyway. It’s just a phase. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to pick from. The charmer you are,” she chuckled lightly trying to lighten the mood and suggest it was temporary. That he could be with any young college girl he wanted. Probably had someone lined up for his birthday party even.
Harry’s brows cinched together and he shook his head, “No. I don’t. You don’t know this about me but… I’m actually…” he sighed and looked upward not wanting to see her expression when he told her, “virgin.”
That was not what she expected. Not at all. First of all, Harry Styles was beautiful. He was a sight! A paragon on legs with a gorgeously calming voice and the sweetest disposition anyone could ever dream of. He was perfection if there ever was such a thing. His beauty went before him but his grace and kindness were what made him so appealing. So utterly attractive. How was it that this astonishingly amazing man, absolutely as nice as anyone could ever be, was a virgin? Not to mention he had his dad’s money at the helm. There was nothing about Harry that wouldn’t get him laid in an instant.
“Virgin? Seriously?” She stuttered, “Umm… but not that there’s anything wrong with that…” She almost didn’t believe him as she asked. They’d never discussed this of course, but in her mind, it was quite impossible that he had never had sex.
“It’s true. Yeah. S’embarrassing but I really want it with… not just anyone. I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t done anything… but I’m not like I’m sleeping with whomever I can.”
Y/n nodded. She got it. As a female that was a conundrum she had as well.
Well, it was slightly different but the basics of why she didn’t just go and sleep with anyone was the same when she was his age. It was because she felt deeply about things. Wanted it to mean something. It didn’t always after she learned that others didn’t feel the same way she did. She learned that getting hurt was sometimes part of relationships. Part of sex. As sad as that was.
“Oh.” She smiled at him and spoke softly, “That’s how I used to feel too. Thought it should be special. But then when I thought it was going to be, the guy didn’t care so it turned out it was only special for me. I realized it didn’t really matter what I wanted. I can’t control what everyone around me wants.”
Harry felt his heart pinch at her words. That wasn’t fair. And that was exactly what had him so worried. That he would give it his all only to have the other person feel as if it was nothing important. Just a moment in time.
But it was a big moment in time. It should mean something. Both people should feel its presence and its significance.
They remained silent for a moment as Harry threaded his fingers in between Y/n’s and licked his lips, “Are we alone?”
She turned her head to look at the man. The whole scenario was unbelievable to her. They’d both admitted attraction and that they’d overstepped boundaries. They also both felt bad about it all. But what did that mean? Did that mean she should just stand up and tell him not to worry about it and not to bring it up ever again? Tell him she won’t say anything if he doesn’t say anything? Give him a hug and a pat on the back?
Yes. That is exactly what she should do.
Unhooking her fingers from his she leaned in and hugged him before standing up from his bed, “Your dad will be home late. So, it’s probably better if I go downstairs and do something to keep me busy. This,” she moved her fingers to point at him and then herself, “we can just chalk up to some bad timing and hormones or whatever. Don’t worry about it. I think it’ll be better for us to just pretend it never happened.”
Harry stood up abruptly, his height overtaking Y/n’s significantly with how close he stood, “Just like that? Just forget that we both said those things?”
She took a step back as she kept her eyes on his, “Yeah. Don’t you think that’s for the best? I mean, Harry… I’m your stepmom.”
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and frowned as he put his hands on his hips and moved away from the bed. He walked toward his door and turned back, “You can forget it and pretend it never happened if you like. I won’t be, though. I’m not going to say anything but I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen either.”
Her heart dropped. She hoped he’d just brush it all off and try to move on. That was the best way to go about all of this. It’s not like they could have some kind of affair anyway. He was too young and his dad was her husband. It would be crazy to do such a thing.
“I mean… what did you want here? I feel like moving on is the best thing for both of us.”
Harry breathed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “I don’t know. Honestly. Thought…” he looked down at his shoes, “No one needed to know. No one would know.”
“No one needed to know what?”
Harry lifted his gaze up to Y/n’s, “If we… kissed or… anything. It would be easy. Dad’s never home. And you’re so-“ he blinked his eyes and she watched as he honed in on the spot where her breasts were under her t-shirt. She hadn’t put a bra on before slipping the shirt on in her haste to wish him a happy birthday, “Kind and patient. Feel like that would be really nice.”
She felt like her jaw was on the floor. Felt like that would be really nice. She couldn’t argue that. It would be really nice. A man with a warm heart in her bed. Someone she could show what she wanted without worry that he’d be offended. A man that looked like Harry. Young and with all that stamina. She imagined that he probably would want it a lot, especially now that she knew he was a virgin. That he’s been so neglected and that the moment he got a taste of it he’d never want to stop…
She shook her head before she allowed her mind to go too far into that hole, “We can’t, Harry. You understand that right,” she bit her lip. She wanted to grab him by his hips and smear her mouth over his as she pushed him into his bed and had them reenact the stepmom and stepson share a bed porno he had up on his laptop.
Harry nodded, his face set in an unreadable expression, “Of course, Y/n. I wouldn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want. I’m sorry.”
She hated that he kept saying sorry. That he felt bad for any of this when it was on her as well, “Please, Harry. Stop saying you’re sorry. You’re not to blame. I just think we should keep level heads here. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
His breathing deepened so much that Y/n could see the way his chest rose and fell under his shirt. She noted his gaze taking her in, not just her eyes, but her lips and her neck, her hips where the shirt stopped and her leggings showed under, “Oh… Y/n…” he shook his head, “I’ve definitely not been innocent. If my porn history isn’t enough to apologize for then my dirty thoughts surely are. You’d certainly agree that I should be apologizing if you knew the sorts of things I fantasize about with you.”
Y/n looked down. She couldn’t take his saturating gaze and these admissions any longer, “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. It’s okay that it’s private and as long as it’s not acted on… you shouldn’t feel bad.”
“Of course.” Harry gestured toward the hallway as he looked at Y/n. There was nothing more to be said on the matter. Harry knew she was right.
She nodded as she exited his room and heard him close the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway. All she wanted to do was to tell him happy birthday. But instead, she left confused and frustrated and far more guilty than she had been before. She had no idea how to navigate this. But she only knew that no one could know their secret.
.           .           .
The caterers arrived before everyone else to get things set up. Small little aluminum warmers lit to keep the food warm. The bar was set up with a washing station and glassware (none of that plastic stuff Leo had said). The sound equipment was tested. Everything was going to be amazing, Y/n thought. For Harry’s 21st birthday party, this was surely going to be a great time.
She hadn’t seen Harry after their encounter in his bedroom the day before. He’d been quiet the rest of the evening. He didn’t even come down to eat.
Leo arrived home just after midnight and today he was working a little, tying up loose ends for something Y/n didn’t bother to pay attention to. Her mind was elsewhere anyway. Her thoughts kept wandering to Harry. Was he okay? Certainly, he wouldn’t be too upset. They hadn’t even really done anything. And they shouldn’t! Plus he was so young and he would have plenty of time to find someone special. She couldn’t be that for him. Certainly not.
Just before she’d had the chance to run upstairs to her room to get her party outfit in order she caught a glimpse of Harry as he was leaving the kitchen. His dark curls were messy. He looked like he had just gotten up.
She laughed to herself. A typical 21-year-old. Sleeping half the day away so he could stay up late and party with his friends tonight. She felt like that was a good sign.
Her dress was modest and what she deemed appropriate. She had originally selected something different for the party, but after her talk with Harry the night before, she went a more conservative route. Perhaps he’d ignore her when he saw the other pretty girls his age that he knew at the party. She hoped there would be someone else that caught his eye. Someone that could make him forget all about whatever it was that happened between them.
She pulled her hair into a low bun, smoothing the bits that always tended to poke out from a sleek do. It was easy to keep her hair this way. And it was more mature too she felt. Rather than keeping her hair down in styled waves or curls, the low bun was a nod to her stage in life. The married woman with a stepson stage.
She decided to not wear perfume or lipstick either. She wanted to do anything she could to fade into the background for the party. She’d be running around anyway, at the beck and call of the people working the party should they need anything. She knew it was probably unnecessary as the people they’d hired were all professionals and some of the best in the industry. But she felt she would need to keep herself busy.
The first to arrive were Leo’s parents (Harry’s grandparents) and then Harry’s mom, Anne. Anne had been around a lot for the last few days helping Y/n get everything sorted. Y/n was actually quite fond of Anne. Harry’s mother was a saint. She loved that her relationship with Leo’s ex was so good.
“Where’s the birthday boy?” Anne smiled as she backed away from the hug Y/n had given her.
“Oh! I think he might still be getting ready. I believe he slept in late. Saw the back of his head about an hour ago and he appeared to be half asleep,” Y/n laughed.
As more of the guests arrived, Y/n noted the young women and men Harry had invited. Plenty of attractive and exciting college kids.
The music was started and drinks were being served but she still had not seen Harry. Nor Leo for that matter (though she wasn’t surprised to have not seen Leo – probably absorbed in his work).
Going inside and tiptoeing her way up toward Harry’s bedroom to urge him to come out and join his own party she found that his door was closed. She applied two knocks to the wood as she put her ear in close to hear anything.
When it was silent and the door didn’t open, she knocked again. Harder, “Harry? You in there? Party’s getting started without you!”
Suddenly the door was pulled open and before her was her stepson looking like he was ready to kill. Not kill in the way that was violent, but kill with his looks. Kill with the way he’d dressed and left half his buttons undone at the top, a sheer milky white shirt with cream embroidered flowers draping away from his chest and allowing peeks of his tattoos. Black, well-fitted jeans and black Chelsea boots. His signature cross necklace hung between his pecs.
“Wanted to be fashionably late. You know… birthday boy and all,” he raised his brows unamused at Y/n and she felt the condescension drip from his words, “After you… step mummy,” he gestured for her to lead the way.
She was stunned by his tiny attitude. It wasn’t much. He hadn’t been particularly rude but his tone and his cheek were new. He was normally very polite with her. Very sweet and all smiles.
She nodded as she began to head down the stairs, Harry behind her. The moment they walked out to the garden Harry headed in a direction away from her. Without a word. But that was good. He should go and have fun with his friends.
Y/n had invited Marla to the party, which she was thankful for. Marla kept her mind off the tall young man of the hour.
“I can never get over how fantastic this place is. And look at all this,” Marla waved her wine glass above her head as she gestured toward the decorations, “This looks magical! When I fall in love and get married, can I have my wedding here?”
“You have to find the right man first. Ryan’s not it.” They laughed together.
Y/n wasn’t nearly as busy as she thought she’d be. As she hoped she’d be. She drank a few glasses of wine and checked on the guests but Anne had most things under control as did the staff that were taking care of everything.
She kept wishing she had more to do because her eyes kept searching for Harry. She spotted him over and over again. He was drinking whisky, with his friends laughing, and of course, there was one girl he was talking to.
She scolded herself at the touch of jealousy she felt. The girl was Harry’s age. Lovely young thing. But when she saw just the two of them talking as Harry had a hand flat on the bench behind the girl she hated how close they were standing. How flirty he looked. She especially didn’t like that the girl would reach out for his buttons and pluck at them every so often.
But why should she be jealous? He was a 21-year-old guy and he was her stepson. It was quite silly to feel anything other than happiness for him.
The cherry on top was after Leo gave his speech and everyone toasted and then the DJ began to play house music. The dance floor was packed and Y/n watched on as Harry and the young girl danced together, much in the same way he’d danced with her two weeks prior. His lanky body moved behind hers, his hand at her hip, his face close to her ear as he said god-knows-what to her.
She wanted to go out and dance too. There was no reason for her to not dance. Just because Harry was out there, enjoying his time, she didn’t need to wallow at the edge and watch the fun.
“Let’s dance!” Y/n pulled Marla with her to the dance floor.
It was just like their normal Friday night outings and since the night before they didn’t get to go out because Y/n had been busy with the party setup, tonight would be girl’s night for her and Marla.
The two laughed and moved their bodies to the beat, holding their wine glasses as level as they could so it didn’t slosh out.
She was finally having fun. Finally felt the anxiety and the guilt melt away as she danced and drank a little more wine. She had been silly to be jealous or upset. There was no reason for any of that.
But then she saw his eyes on hers. He hadn’t been looking at her all night. She figured that was for the best. But now he was watching her as he danced with the girl in the white mini-dress. His gaze was cold. His face set in a glowering smirk as he spoke something to the girl. She watched as the young woman leaned her head back to look up at Harry and his lips nipped at the space just below her ear.
She felt she could vomit. It was too much. She thought she was okay but she didn’t want to see that. Didn’t want to watch as Harry kissed anyone else and looked at her with such disdain. Was he mad at her?
She excused herself to Marla and rushed into the big house, moving into the kitchen to set her glass down. There were people in the house. Chatting, laughing, and some even dancing inside.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she leaned over the island and tried to calm her brain. What was she doing? What was wrong with her?
Warm hands covered the tops of her shoulders and the deep rasp of her stepson was in her ear before she could even open her eyes, “I need to talk to you.”
She jumped in surprise and turned around quickly as Harry ticked his head toward the stairs and he began heading toward them. She followed behind, moving up the steps with him and she assumed he would want to talk in the hallway or his room but he continued walking past his door and to the other side of the house toward her bedroom.
Without even a pause he opened her door and entered her room as if he owned it. As if it were his room.
She followed in behind him, her face set in confusion. She couldn’t know what he was going to say or what he wanted to talk about.
“Was offered a blowjob,” he blurted out as he paced. “From Leslie. She’s cute and I’m… anyway… I wanted to tell you,” he stopped and looked at Y/n, moving toward her, “in case you wanted to… maybe you’d changed your mind or-“ he ran a hand through his hair.
“What?” She was stunned, “You… why are you telling me?”
“Because I want… you, Y/n.” He said with finality.
Harry was stood close with his pink lips parted as he looked down at Y/n. He was serious. He was dead serious and she was surprised. The young girl was pretty and she wanted to give him a blowjob… “Me? What about… Leslie? She’s so cute and-“
“Not as cute as you. Ever since that night, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He cocked his head and smirked, “And I like this look,” Harry moved his hand to the material of her dress gently before letting his hand drop down to his side, “Perfect length so no one gets any ideas about you. A modest silhouette. Your hair falling out of this bun you tried to hold it in,” his hand moved upward again to push the hair off her shoulder that had indeed come undone from the bun.
“You must have had too much to drink. I’m not what you’re looking for-“
“You are. You are exactly what I’ve been looking for. And I’m not drunk, Y/n. Not even close.”
Her breaths deepened as Harry’s hand stayed at her neck where he’d pushed her hair. His thumb rubbed over her pulse point slowly. And he was suffocating, crippling her resolve. Making her question her sanity. She couldn’t allow this. Could she?
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t. We… we can’t.”
Harry licked his lips, “We can actually because no one would know. Want it to be you. Want you to show me. I trust you.” He didn’t lose his composure as his palm moved upward and his thumb brushed the outer corner of her mouth.
She closed her eyes and allowed her mouth to part the slightest. She didn’t know what she was doing. Letting him stand so close. Letting him speak to her about this. Letting him touch her lips. Letting his words sink into her core.
“Harry…” she breathed out his name as she felt the pad of his thumb press over her bottom lip. Her eyes remained closed. This wasn’t happening. If she kept her eyes closed she wasn’t here and this wasn’t happening. It was just a fantasy.
The trouble was though, that it was happening. And even with her eyes closed she could feel him and how he was standing so close she could smell the whisky on his breath and feel his body heat next to hers. Feel his thumb push past her lips the slightest as her tongue poked out to taste the tiniest bit. Felt his hand grip her face and his smooth mouth on hers and his hand on her waist and his chest pressed to hers.
She forced her fingers into his hair and moaned into his mouth but then- in a sudden moment of clarity, she pushed at his chest and shook her head, “This is wrong. We can’t, Harry. You get that, right?”
Harry backed away and looked down at his feet, “I do. You don’t want me.”
She nearly blurted out to him that that was incorrect. That she did want him. That she’d fantasized about him far too often but it was unhealthy and it could only lead to disaster.
Instead, she stayed quiet. He needed to drop this. She needed to stop this. It had gone too far.
When he left her room she sat down on her bed. Now she’d gone and kissed him. Tasted his lips and the way he kissed her felt so real and so passionate. She’d missed that bit of passion. That sort of enthusiasm. It wasn’t something Leo gave her at all. She didn’t even know it was something she was missing. But Harry had woken something up in her. Ever since that night. And now the kiss had felt like she was beyond getting back to ignoring that need she’d buttoned up and pushed down. She wanted more. But that couldn’t happen.
She was surprised by Harry’s gall too. He was quite pushy, which she hadn’t expected of him. Harry, who was so gentle and thoughtful and sweet was really adamant about pursuing her.
Her tummy was still warm and filled with butterflies. He’d kissed her. And she wanted to take it further but she couldn’t. That was out of the question.
.           .           .
When most of the guests had gone and the house grew quiet Y/n sat outside under the twinkle lights. She’d turn them off before going in and calling it a night but she wanted a few moments of peace with the last bit of the bottle of wine she’d worked her way through after Harry had gone and scrambled her good sense.
Good sense. What a laugh. As if she had any good sense after that night at the bar. It should have never gotten as far as it had.
Y/n was also sitting outside in hopes of making sure Leslie left before she went back in. Or at least gave Harry enough time to get his blowjob or whatever it was that was going on in his bedroom.
Because Y/n was well aware that Harry had her in there. He made a show of it in fact.
When she’d gotten back outside after calming herself from the kiss, Harry had Leslie against the side of the house with his tongue down her throat. And as much as she tried to ignore that and pretend she wasn’t bothered by it, she was bothered. It hurt her feelings but she shouldn’t feel hurt. Harry should be doing things with girls his age and losing his virginity to anyone that wasn’t his stepmom.
But she kept looking over at them and when she caught Harry gazing back at her as he kissed Leslie she could almost feel her hair singe in anger. He was doing it on purpose. To make Y/n jealous.
And before he brought her into the house he casually introduced Leslie to her and then leaned in to whisper to Y/n with his whisky breath, “Last chance.”
So, not only was she a little hurt she was a little pissed. Because he was being downright bratty with it.
Half of her hoped that Leslie would take his virginity and he’d get it out of his system and that would be that.
The other part of her, the depraved, nonsensical evil bit that she kept pushed deep deep down away from anyone, wanted to make him pay for being a little jerk to her. She imagined spanking him even, which was ridiculous because he was so much larger than she was. As if he’d somehow fit over her lap and bare his ass to her for a spanking. She laughed at her thoughts but they didn’t end there.
The more wine that wound its way into her bloodstream the filthier her fantasies got. He’d grow hard after she punished him and then she’d show him what a real blowjob was like. Make him forget all about Leslie. She’d let him feel her throat on him but wouldn’t allow him to come. Instead, then she’d pull him down by his hair between her legs and guide him over her, giving him specific instructions for cunnilingus. And he’d keep licking at her and begging for more of her even after she’d come. He wouldn’t want to stop tasting her but then she’d tell him to stop – that only good boys deserve more.
Of course, the fantasy ends with him begging her to take his virginity and then making him eat his come from her pussy since he came too fast, like the virgin he is.
Depraved. But god was she turned on just thinking about it. She bet he’d like all that too.
Plucking her bottle of wine up she flicked the lights off and went into the house. No sense in staying outside and hoping Harry was quiet enough when she went inside. Plus she was quite tipsy and just needed to be put to bed.
Putting the bottle down on the counter she heard Leo sitting in the living room on a call.
It was nearly 2 am so she was surprised he was chatting with anyone but she could tell it was something for work. Plans for a business trip.
Instead of waiting and talking to him, she made her way up to her bedroom. She slowly passed Harry’s room and noticed that there was a light on but no noises to be heard, thankfully.
And she wasn’t jealous. Of course, she wasn’t. What was there to be jealous of?
After a warm shower and slathering her body in lotion, she opened her ensuite bathroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.
“What are you doing in here?”
Harry was lying on her bed, sprawled out on top of her comforter wearing the clothes he wore at his party minus his boots.
Harry lifted his head and snorted a laugh, “Wanted to say g’night to my stepmom. But then I laid on your bed,” Y/n could hear the slur in his speech and saw the way his eyes floated in his sockets as he looked at her, “and it’s so comfortable.” He pressed his palms down and moaned at the feel before plopping his head back onto her stack of feather pillows.
She stood over him and placed her hands at her hips. She was thankful she’d put on her robe before stepping out of her room. Half the time she opted to walk around her bedroom naked.
“Well, goodnight, then Harry. It’s time for you to go back to your room.”
Harry squeezed his eyes closed and the grin on his mouth widened as he spoke, “Mmm… but this feels so good. S’cozy right here.”
Y/n sat at the end of the bed and sighed. He was clearly drunk. Earlier he hadn’t been when she kissed him. Now, he was very clearly inebriated.
“Your bed is cozy too, though. You should go back to your room. Get some rest.”
Harry propped himself up by his elbows and planted his eyes on hers, “You’ve been in my bed? When?”
Shaking her head and laughing at the absurdity of this whole scenario she spoke, “I know your bed is comfortable because I helped Leo pick out your new mattress. It’s the same one as this.” She patted the bed under her.
Harry nodded slowly and she noticed his gaze at her cleavage so she tightened her robe just as there was a knock at her door.
A gasp fell from her lips and she shoved Harry off the bed, whispering, “Under the bed! It’s your father!”
Harry huffed a laugh and put his hands up in surrender, “Yes, ma’am.”
She hushed him as he scooted himself under her bed and Y/n ran to her bathroom door, “Yes!”
The door opened and Leo stepped in, a suitcase left in the doorway, “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got a sudden meeting tomorrow late morning so I’ve got to take the 5:00 am out to Savannah.”
Putting the towel up to her hair to act as if she’d just gotten out of the shower (she sort of had) she walked across the room to him, “Really? When will you be back?”
“Day after tomorrow. It’s a morning meeting, then golf, then dinner. Then the next morning I have a flight that gets me back in LA at noon.”
She smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders to bring him in for a quick hug and he caught her off guard by kissing her cheek and squeezing her back before pulling away, “Car’s outside waiting,” he ticked his head toward the door, “Tell Harry when he emerges tomorrow for me, will ya?”
When she shut her door and turned toward her bed she let out a breath of relief. She was glad Harry stayed quiet. But then she realized as she lifted her bed skirt that he’d fallen asleep down there.
Rolling her eyes she contemplated what to do. Leave him there? Wake him and help him back to his room? She really didn’t want to deal with getting him into his bedroom. Nor did she want to deal with a drunk Harry by waking him up. But ultimately her guilt wouldn’t let her leave him there on the floor. He deserved to sleep in a bed.
“Harry… come on… wake up. Leo’s gone,” she pushed at his arm gently, “Harry…” she said tunefully, elongating the yyyyyy at the end of his name.
Pulling at his arm she got him part of the way out from under her bed and lifted his arm up, “Come on… wake up,” she lightly patted his face and that seemed to do it.
Harry’s eyes opened up and landed on hers. Sparkling and green and soft. And drunk.
“Let’s get you up. Come on. Time for bed.” She helped him sit up and tucked herself under his arm and began to stand to help him upward. But he was dead weight.
“Can I please stay with you? Please, Y/n? Your bed is so soft.”
She looked at him as he spoke and she realized he was not going to make it to his room. He’d have to sleep on her bed.
But that was fine. She’d just put him in her bed and then go sleep in any of the other guest rooms. It was better than letting him sleep on the floor or attempting to walk him to his bedroom.
“You can sleep in my bed. That’s fine. Can you lift up with me?”
Harry’s smile took over his features and his pink lips looked wet and soft. He was super cute when he was drunk.
“For real?” Harry raised an arm and steadied himself with the edge of the bed, the other side assisted by Y/n as he was pushed upward to his feet.
“There we go. Okay…” Y/n nudged him to sit and Harry’s full weight fell onto the bed and he laughed.
He immediately went to grab at his pant button and Y/n paused and put her hand on his shoulder, “Uh, just lie down. I’ll go and get you some water. Be right back.”
She was doing her best. Truly. She was quite tipsy herself and her bed had been calling before Harry showed up in her room. And now here she was traipsing across the massive home to get her stepson a glass of water. She figured he’d appreciate that when he woke up in the morning. And she had hoped that by the time she returned to her room, he’d be asleep and she could sneak out and go to the nearest guest bedroom and crash there. She was tired.
But when she returned to her room, Harry had successfully pulled his pants and sheer button-up shirt off and was left in nothing but his grey boxer briefs. And he was not asleep.
Placing the water next to the side of the bed he was on, which was where she’d normally be sleeping she noted, Harry stretched his arms behind his head and smiled, “Hop in.”
She shook her head and laughed as she pulled her charger from the wall and grabbed her cell phone, “No, Harry. That’s not a good idea,” she turned off the lamp on the far side of the room and began to walk toward the door.
He sat up quickly, “Wait. You said… You’re not staying with me?”
Y/n turned to look at him, handsome and messy.
And her stepson she reminded herself.
“I’ll just be next door. Think it’s best we’re not sleeping in the same bed, Harry. Just lie down and-“
“No. Please,” Harry tried to pull himself out of the bed but his motions were lethargic and clumsy, “want you here. Just… stay with me. Please. I swear no funny business.”
She sighed and began to shake her head and repeat herself but when Harry started to place his long legs down onto the floor she rushed back to him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. That was her logic anyway. She didn’t want him to fall or crack his skull open.
Steadying him by his arms she pushed him back toward the bed, “Stay. You’ll hurt yourself.”
Harry hummed and reached up to put his fingers in her hair, “I’ll stay if you stay. If you go to the guest room I’ll just follow you like a puppy dog, Y/n.” His words were watery and his gestures were clumsy.
She closed her eyes and groaned. She was so tired. So tired. And she just wanted to lie down. And she certainly couldn’t have Harry attempting to follow her to another room and hurt himself by falling down the stairs or something.
“Fine. But you just go to sleep. I’ll stay here with you but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep and behave.” She pointed at him.
Harry’s exaggerated grin returned as he laid his head back onto the pillow and watched her cross the room to turn off the last lamp.
Fuck, she cursed to herself under her breath. She’d forgotten to put on pajamas. She was naked under her robe.
But okay. No problem. She’d just leave her robe on and it would be fine.
Climbing into bed, on the odd side, she stretched her limbs as she laid flat and closed her eyes. She was just so tired.
“Thank you. For staying. I promise I’ll behave.”
.           .           .
Y/n’s alarm woke her up and she groaned and reached over to turn it off but instead, her palm found a bare, solid chest. She popped her eyes open and the events of the previous night had come rushing back. She let Harry sleep in her bed and she was reaching over toward where her phone normally was but she’d been on the opposite side of the bed.
Rolling over to press the alarm off she sighed as she snuggled back into her pillow. 6:45 am was too early to be up for a Sunday. She contemplated moving herself to a guest room since Harry was still asleep but her soft bed lulled her back into a deep sleep where her dreams were vivid and she found herself kissing Harry again. But this time, her dream took it further and she was on his lap and then they were in his bed. By any standards, it was a very good dream. A very good one.
So when she woke up for the second time that morning things were… different. Her head was not on her soft pillow and there was a hand on her bottom. She slowly came out of her easy dream state, still reeling from the kind of dream she’d just had of her stepson when she realized her cheek was smushed on Harry’s pec and it was Harry’s big palm on her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly moving down toward her thigh. He was awake.
Her dream-riddled brain mulled over what was happening. It was a slow rise but her awareness steadily stirred. Her robe had come undone and her thigh was over Harry’s. His chest was rising and falling gently and she realized her palm was over his heart, which she could feel thudding underneath. She had cuddled up to him like he was one of those body pillows.
It was nice. It felt soft and lazy and sweet to lie in her bed on a Sunday morning in the arms of a man. And the leftover remnants of her dream had her still feeling wound up.
Hesitantly, she moved her head to look upward and Harry’s hand halted when her gaze met his.
She could see him swallow and he spoke groggily, “Sorry. You were… I didn’t want to wake you.”
The way his sonorous voice reverberated from his chest against her skin and her shoulder made her meltier than she already was.
Her hand was still over his chest and she could feel his heart rate increase as he kept his eyes on hers, “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me sleep.” She was going to move. To get up and pull her robe securely around her body so he didn’t catch a glimpse of anything but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to bask in the heat of him for a little longer. To feel his fingers on her bare bottom for a few more moments. Perhaps to even feel him caressing her again. And maybe… just maybe…
She slid her palm up and scooted herself fully into his arms, her chest over his, and laid her head down against his shoulder, “Let’s just stay here a little longer. If that’s okay?”
Harry blinked his eyes and knew Y/n could feel the way his heart was lobbing around behind his ribs. His cock was already hard but she hadn’t figured that out yet and he didn’t want to scare her off because he did want to stay like that for longer. With her.
He pulled his arms around her, removing his hand from her bottom and bringing it up to wrap around her back, “That sounds perfect.” He was just glad she hadn’t moved too far up or her thigh would have come into contact with his erection and surely would have ruined the moment.
Y/n closed her eyes and indulged in the way his arms felt around her. Her bare hip was against his and it felt so salacious. So tender. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, with one of them uncovered and warm against his skin.
“Dad left for a meeting? On a Sunday?” Harry suddenly inquired. He had always been suspicious of his father’s frequent trips.
She nodded her head over his chest, “Yeah. Sometimes he has weekend meetings. It’s more like a golf outing than anything. Probably just some buddies getting together for some fun.”
“Hmm… You’re okay with him just heading out like that last minute?”
“Yeah. It’s normal. I’ve gotten used to it.”
He wasn’t sure that his father was a good husband to Y/n. He found it odd too that they had separate bedrooms. But he didn’t usually question it. However, this morning he was feeling soft toward her (well, soft emotionally… physically he was anything but soft) and wanted to protect her in some way.
Harry didn’t know how he was going to survive. His boner was only growing thicker and with the way she was wiggling over him, her thigh was nearly brushing against his –
Too late.
When she nudged at it, feeling him stiff against her thigh, she smiled to herself. She hadn’t looked down over his body but she half wondered if he was as turned on as she was. It was easier for her to hide what her dream had done to her and what being in his arms was causing to slip out from between her legs, but this pleased her.
“I’m sorry. That’s… I can’t help it.” Harry explained and Y/n lifted her head up and glanced down at where he was straining under his boxer briefs. It nearly startled her too. She hadn’t expected… that. And even though he was covered up with his underwear she understood that what he had going on there was… well she’d say he was a lucky guy and it was truly an outrage that there hadn’t been a lucky girl to try it out.
“Don’t apologize,” she looked back up at him and realized he’d been looking at her boob. The one not covered. And with the way she’d lifted herself upward to look down at him, her nipple was out for him to peek at.
She licked her lips and brought her hand down over his pec to lift herself further. Bot tits made their appearance and Harry groaned and looked away, “Sorry. Trying not to look.”
Gently putting her hand up to his jaw she turned his face to look at her, “Do you want to look?”
Harry’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Well, yeah. But I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“You’ve seen breasts before right?” Y/n laughed and slid her thigh against his thickened cock, this time on purpose.
Harry kept nodding, “Yes. Quite a few. But just not yours.” His eyes danced over her nipples and back up to her eyes, almost to make sure it was okay.
She loved his deep, raspy morning voice. Loved how gentle and intimate the moment felt.
“Did you see Leslie’s breasts last night?” Y/n teased with a smile as she lowered herself down, her naked nipples pressing into his warm skin.
Shaking his head no he laughed, “Nah. She passed out. If you thought I was drunk last night, should have seen her. Nothing happened. Wouldn’t have been able to even if we wanted.”
When Y/n felt Harry’s hand timidly return to her low back and then ghost over her ass she let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t remove her eyes from his. He was so pretty and he deserved to be put out of his misery she thought. A bad idea, yes. But to hell with it.
Sliding her thigh further over him she pushed herself to straddle him and sat up over him. Biting her lip and looking down at his chest and smoothing her hands over the smattering of hair he had and the dark tattoos… he was sexy.
Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from taking her in. Her robe was draped over her sides but was open so he could see her breasts and her tummy, her belly button and he glanced back up at her and parted his lips as he risked moving his hands over her bottom. With the way she was looking at him and touching him, he felt the risk would be worth it.
“Squeeze a little,” she whispered as she put her hands over Harry’s and directed him to take a handful of her bottom in each palm. Harry swallowed hard and panted.
“Oh my god,” his words were spoken in a quiet breath as he relished in the feeling.
When she rocked her hips forward and dragged her core over his fabric-covered cock Harry gasped and his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths.
“I had a dream about you,” she spoke as she moved her hands back up his chest and to his face as she leaned over him, putting herself directly over his erection and ground herself over him, “It was really naughty. And I’m still worked up over it. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” her pussy was wetting the fabric of Harry’s crotch and he groaned before lifting his face upward and pressing his lips to hers. He definitely did not want her to stop.
The haste of the kiss was hectic and chaotic. Harry pushed the robe off her shoulders and she flung the thick cotton down onto the floor before placing her fingers into the band of his underwear, “Let’s take a look.”
She sat back and pulled his underwear down so his cock sprung out. She continued lowering the material until his balls were free and she moaned, “It’s really pretty. Can I suck you off?”
Harry brought a hand up to his arm and pinched his skin, wincing when he felt the sting. He wasn’t sure he was really awake. Not only was Y/n completely naked on top of him, she was licking her lips and asking if she could suck him off.
“Fuck. Please yes.”
“Do you like to beg, Harry?” She grinned as she crawled herself backward to put her face above his lovely cock.
“For you, I will.”
“Mmm… such a good boy,” she looked up at him as she licked along the underside of his shaft and Harry choked out a moan. His thighs were already quivering. She figured he wouldn’t last long but that was fine for what she had in mind.
Her mouth was watering so wetting him properly wasn’t too hard as her tongue slid over his hard prick. She dotted kisses along the way and looked up at his eyes and then down to his pretty dick.
Using her hand, a palm she licked and wetted, she gently massaged his balls as she finally pulled his tip into her mouth. She lowered over him as much as possible on the first go before bringing herself off of him, “Want you to come down my throat. Okay? Want to taste you.”
Harry’s face was twisted up in ecstasy already and she hadn’t done that much, “I’m gonna come too fast.” He whined.
Shaking her head and licking over his tip she whispered against his throbbing cock, “Be a good boy and come down my throat, Harry. It’s okay if you come fast. Just feel my mouth and my tongue on you and enjoy it. Can you do that for me?”
“Ffuck…” Harry threw his head back into the pillow as she drew him back into her mouth and began sucking, “M’gonna be your good boy. Yes.”
Harry’s voice was shaky and his groans were progressively louder as she took him deeper. He clutched the blankets tight as his stepmom fondled his balls and sucked on his cock.
He’d been given blow jobs before. But already this one was far and away the best he’d ever had. Y/n was sensual and confident and she knew what she was doing. When her eyes found his every few moments that was his favorite. Watching as she looked at him dreamily with his cock in her mouth was a picture that would be seared into his mind for all eternity. Better than porn. Because it was real.
“Ahh! Shit! M’coming, please!” Harry shouted and moaned as his hands finally found their place in her hair out of instinct.
He’d pressed on her just enough that her nose was pushed into his pubes and she felt his twitching prick beating and pumping as come gushed from his tip. He came a lot. She couldn’t breathe or move but she kept her jaw wide and gagged around him as he crammed himself further into her throat and he cursed and moaned and rolled his hips upward in orgasm.
When he’d finally drained himself of everything he had he loosened his grip on her hair and she pulled up, gasping and coughing.
Harry’s fucked out gaze was adorable, she thought. A small smile on his face with pink cheeks and a splotchy red chest from the exertion of his orgasm.
She leaned over him and grasped his jaw, causing his mouth to fall open as she spit down over his tongue, “Swallow.”
Harry gulped down her mix of saliva and his come before his pink lips curved up into a big smile, “Yes ma’am.”
Y/n chuckled and then kissed him before pushing herself upward to climb off but Harry caught her arm before she could get too far, “Wait. You don’t want me to like…”
“Of course I do. But only if you want to. Have you ever eaten anyone out before?”
Harry pushed himself up by his elbows and nodded, “Yeah. Wouldn’t say I’m any good at it. Not sure I could make you come.”
There was a thrill that filed down her spine and to her toes. She didn’t need to come. She just loved how it felt to have someone with their face between her legs. It had been a while. Leo didn’t often give her cunnilingus.
“But do you want to?” She asked pointedly. She wouldn’t dream of having him do something he didn’t like.
“Fuck yes. Just show me what you like and I’ll do it.”
Harry released her wrist and she put her bottom onto the mattress and stuffed pillows behind her so she could sit up and watch. She loved the way Harry was watching her body and how dark his eyes were. He’d just orgasmed but she was confident he’d grow hard again soon. And then perhaps she could give him what he really wanted.
“Take your underwear off the rest of the way.”
Harry got up to his knees and nodded, “Yes ma’am.” A sly smirk on his lips at the new nickname he’d been using for her.
Y/n had never been a fan of being called ma’am. She felt she was too young to be a ma’am but when Harry did it in this context, it got her blood pumping wildly through her veins.
When Harry’s boxer briefs were long gone she pulled at his wrist as she opened her legs up, “Start off just exploring. I’ll guide you if you want. Use your fingers, lips, tongue… and try to keep your eyes on mine.”
Harry licked his lips and knelt over her, his hands finding her outer thighs first and spreading her wider as he looked over her glistening pussy, “So wet. Is this for me?”
His question was a surprise to her. But it was definitely lined with something innocent. Almost as if he hadn’t expected her to be in the state she was in.
Nodding her head slowly and smiling she spoke, “All for you. That’s what you did to me and you haven’t even touched me yet.”
Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he shyly smiled, “Just trying to be a good boy for you ma’am.”
He jutted his tongue out and licked upward from her seeping entrance to her clit and she moaned softly as she watched him. He kept his eyes on her pussy at first. She wanted him to look up at her but she allowed him a moment to get acquainted.
He used one of his hands to gently spread her labia and lick upward again, stopping at her clit and flicking it just the tiniest bit.
“God. You know where the clit is, don’t you? That’s really good, Harry.”
He finally looked back up at her as he mouthed over her pussy and sucked gently. She keened and smiled, “Yes! Keep doing that.”
So he did. He sucked and licked, giving special treatment to her clitoris and he moaned over her as he closed his eyes and lapped at her, and kissed his way around her cunt slowly.
“Finger me. Put two in. Like this,” she reached down to his hand and twisted so his palm was upward and then pulled on his pointer and middle finger, nudging the pads of his fingers to her entrance.
His long digits inside of her didn’t disappoint. He pressed them in and pulled out slowly as he continued lapping and sucking and she gasped into the room.
She looked down at him after the initial recovery of his fingers inside of her for the first time and he was already watching her. She slid a hand over her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment before pushing her fingers into his hair, “You’re so good for me, Harry. Just like that…” she was breathless.
Harry clamped his eyes closed at her praise and used his free hand to reach up and touch her left tit. He kneaded at her flesh and then circled the pads of his fingers over her nipple slowly and she mewled, “Come up here. Suck on my breasts,” she pulled at his hair a little to lift his face, “Keep your fingers inside of me.”
Harry did as she said, pumping his fingers into her as he moved up over her body and latched on to the breast he’d been fondling. He was a star pupil. His tongue laved sensually over her areola and he continued looking at her as he stuffed his fingers knuckles deep.
Sucking on her nipple and pulling away he moved to the other side and a muffled moan vibrated over her chest and she felt his cock against her thigh. He was aroused. Thick and full once again. She knew this would happen. Or at least she hoped it would.
Harry drew his tongue to the underside of her breast and sucked in tightly, pinching her skin and she gasped as she watched him work. He moved to her other side, repeating his gesture and bruising the underside of her boob with an intense suckle that had her flesh turning purple nearly instantly.
“Fuck, Harry.”
She had little need to guide him much. He was passionate enough and horny enough that everything he was doing was just right by her standards.
Harry popped off her nipple and looked up at his stepmom with eyes that brimmed with lust and need, “I want you so bad. Please…” his dark pink lips were wet and set in a pout as he pulled his brows together. He looked like he was in pain. But he didn’t cease fucking into her with his fingers.
Y/n carded her fingers into his hair and cooed at him, “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”
She was aware of what he wanted. But somehow she was getting off on having him tell her and ask and beg with his big puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.
Harry’s hips dipped down so his prick sat in the spot right next to her pussy. She was wet all over and there was a nice little bit of glid for Harry right there as he removed his fingers from her cunt and pushed them into his mouth. He was holding himself over her with one arm as he licked her essence from his digits before pulling them out to steady himself with both arms, “You. Want to… be with you. I’m so hard again.”
She knew what he wanted. And maybe it was the haze of the dream she’d had or a sudden lack of inhibition on her part, but she wanted the same thing. And his pretty cock would feel nice wrenching into her insides and poking deeply into the viscera.
Y/n nudged at him to move back so she could sit up further, “Are you sure? Because that means you won’t be a virgin anymore. I don’t want to have you regret anything.”
Harry shook his head, “I don’t care about being a virgin. The stigma. Never mattered. But,” he put his palm over the top of her thigh and looked at her with hooded eyes, “I know you’ll show me how good it is. I trust you. Only if you want me.”
The sting of warmth shrouded her neck and then her heart. He was sweet and he was convincing.
Nodding her head she put her palm over his cheek and smiled, “I do want you. And I trust you too. Which means this has to stay between us. No one can know.”
Harry nodded. The tiny bit of scruff on his face scratched at her skin as he turned to kiss her palm and grasp her wrist in his hand, “Then, please. Just tell me what to do and how you want it. I’ll be so good for you.”
Intertwining their fingers, Y/n pulled at him to give him a soft kiss. Wet. Trembling. They both were. This was either the biggest mistake of their lives or the beginning of an extraordinary secret. They both knew it. It would change everything. It already had. They’d already given in.
Whispering as she scraped his scalp and dotted kisses at the edge of his mouth, “Do you want a condom? Will that make you feel better? I can’t get pregnant so that’s not an issue and everything else is good in that regard. Up to you.”
Y/n always wore condoms with Leo, at his insistence. Because of their agreement. An open marriage if you will. But with Harry, she’d forego the barrier knowing he was a virgin.
“Do you want me to wear one? I do have some that I’ve never used,” he laughed as he spoke the word used.
“I’d like to feel you just like this,” she lowered her hand to his throbbing shaft and inhaled sharply at how warm and thick he was in her hand, “If that’s okay.”
Harry closed his eyes and nodded, “More than okay.”
“Good. Now. When you fantasize about having sex. What position are you in the most?” Y/n wanted to have him start off with what he fantasized about. She knew he’d like any position, most men did.
The edge of Harry’s mouth quirked up as he breathed out a laugh, “Just… all of them. But, normally I’m on top,” he swallowed.
“That’s good. Let’s start there.” She lay back and spread her legs, gently pulling at him to follow.
Harry put himself between her thighs and brought his palms down to the mattress on either side of her shoulders.
“Push your hips down and line up over me,” She took her hand and guided him so that his heavy cock was slipping through her labia, getting coated in her slick, “Yes, now, move back and forth and just feel how wet I am like this. How it’s getting all over you before you even need to push inside. Feels good right?” Harry’s mouth was dropped open and he nodded, “Yes.”
“Mmm… feels good to me too. When you do that, your tip is hitting my clit. See?” She looked down between their bodies, urging Harry to do the same.
He groaned as he continued gliding through her wet pussy lips, “Fuck. So pretty.”
The sound alone was sexy. Her pussy was really wet and the noise that his dick caused with each pass through her folds was pornographic.
“We’re pretty together, aren’t we?”
He nodded and moaned, moving himself a little faster.
“Such a good boy. Now, I want you to kiss me. Keep your mouth on mine and then when you’re ready, put your delicious cock inside of me. Okay?”
Another moan fell from his lips as he lowered himself to kiss her mouth. Y/n licked over his lips and Harry opened up and used his tongue against hers as he slowly pushed his engorged dick up and down, nudging her clit on each upward thrust. His mouth was watering as he got himself into position, putting his knees down to steady himself and rearing back to align his pink tip with her puffy, wet entrance.
Never removing his lips from hers as he continued kissing her and sipping at her tongue he dipped gently into her. First, his wide head barely smoothed into her until he was met with resistance from the small muscle of her vaginal opening.
She could feel him hesitate, knowing he wasn’t sure if it was too much. She smiled into the kiss and spoke, “Just push. It’s like that on purpose. A little tight on the first go but once you’re in there it’s so good. You’re just a little thick so this is gonna be normal for you. Gotta just press in past my tight opening.”
The whimper that fell from his mouth before he pushed his lips back to hers made her head spin. But what really got her was when he did as she said and pushed in through her muscle and slid himself in half way.
They both gasped, parting from the kiss. There it was. He was inside of her. He moaned into her mouth as he pulled back so his tip was pulled out and then reentered, pushing past that tight muscle again as he licked into her mouth.
It was good. She knew it would feel good. His hard cock was heavy and thick and as he pressed himself in until he couldn’t push any further she gasped at how deep he was.
Harry was on a different plane of existence in that moment. He’d given his virginity to the hottest woman he’d ever met and now he was allowed to fuck her. She’d given him permission and he’d given her permission and his dick had never ever felt so good.
He’d had his cock sucked and he’d used toys with lube that mimicked pussy, but this was… warm and real. And it smelled like her and his mouth still tasted like her and she was moaning as he moved into her. She was enjoying it too. And that… that was the best part.
He continued moving his mouth over hers as he thrust his way into her as deep as he could get until his balls were pressed into her bum. He was more than thankful that he’d already come so he could last a bit longer. He’d still come embarrassingly fast, he was sure, but now he had a little advantage. Instead of three minutes, possibly ten? He hoped. At minimum. Because he didn’t want this feeling to ever end. He’d fuck his stepmom for the rest of his life if it felt this way. They could just stay like this in her bed, slipping together and kissing and being connected.
A knock at the door and the voice of a female was heard from behind the wood.
Harry stopped his movements and Y/n grasped onto him with one hand to keep him still and put her finger up to her mouth, “Who’s there?”
“I’m Harry’s friend, Leslie. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know where he went.”
Harry’s breaths were rapid as he stared down at the pretty woman he was inside of. He’d totally forgotten about Leslie.
“Uh… I think he left? Maybe? Not sure hon! I’m in the middle of something and…” she didn’t know how to get rid of the girl. She didn’t want to be rude but she was truly very much in the middle of something. Something very good. She was just thankful that the door was locked.
Harry slowly began thrusting again as he kept his eyes on Y/n’s, holding himself up over her.
“That’s okay! Sorry! I’ll be leaving. Just tell Harry I will talk to him later!”
The smirk on Harry’s face as he began to press in harder had Y/n’s tummy on fire, or perhaps it was his lengthy cock pushing into her guts, “Thank fuck she’s gone. In the middle of losing my virginity here,” he laughed as he rocked his hips sharply and Y/n grunted at the harsh thud.
“Oooh… fuuu….” Y/n moaned with a smile as he did it again, “So good like that. You gonna fuck me a little harder now? Be a good boy and make it hurt a little.”
Harry was a good listener. Had always been. This time was no different. He began to plunge into her with a dizzying drag, forceful and trenchant. Just like she liked. Especially when it was Harry doing it.
“Like that? You want it like that?” He punctuated his words with each rut of his hips.
“Yeah, just like that,” she scraped her nails over his back and keened as her body was rocked upward on each of his thrusts, “How do you feel? Tell me what it’s like.”
Harry’s hips stuttered as he brought the cadence down so he could speak, “Fuck, it’s good. So fucking nice,” he wanted to say more about how it felt. Wanted to tell her he could do this with her forever and that her pussy was the only one he’d want to fuck from now on (he was sure of that). Wanted to blurt out that she was so pretty and how perfect they looked together. But he held back with the understanding that his lust was clouding the things his heart was feeling at that moment.
“Tell me mmm… oh yes! Right there!” She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from shouting loudly when Harry ground into her just right, not sure if Leslie was still in the house or not, “Tell me what it feels like inside of me.”
Harry’s panted words were slow and deep, “Like I’m gonna come harder than I ever have. It’s so warm and smooth. Gripping me so tight. Never want it to stop…” his hips smacked against hers as he moved into her with a hungry force.
Her mouth was wide open as her breaths were being knocked out of her lungs and her tits swayed under him.
Harry looked down at his sexy stepmom with her lusty face and body and he lowered down to wrap his lips around hers. She brought her legs over his back and pushed at his bottom with her heels to urge him deeper.
Using his forearms to hold himself up he rolled his hips into her slowing down his pace to make it last. He wanted to feel her like this for a little longer. He knew he could come soon.
Wet squelches between their bodies where they were connected and sliding together with no barriers and tiny creeks from the mattress filled the room. The sound of illicit sex. The sound of something happening that was so wrong that it was good. So good.
Y/n could tell Harry was going to come as his breaths heaved and his thighs trembled against her each time he pushed in, “Harry… you feel so good filling me up. I want to come too,” her words were panted as Harry sliced into her deeply and stilled his hips as he looked down at her.
“Want you to come too. What do you need, Y/n?” Harry’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pushed his thumb over her cheekbone.
“Is it okay if I get on top and ride you how I like? Always come when I get on top.”
Harry smiled and licked into her mouth for a good moment, pulling at her lips and grinding into her further so she could feel him as deep as he could possibly go before, pulling back and gently bringing her thighs down as she placed her feet flat onto the mattress.
Y/n sat up and ogled Harry’s body as he turned and moved to his side. She crawled over him, pushing him down to his back, and sat over her knees between his legs. She brushed her palms up his sturdy thighs up to his hips, never touching his throbbing prick before leaning over him and kissing his right thigh upward to the apex of his thigh and crotch, careful to leave him wanting. Repeating the same worship on his left thigh but taking a little time over the tiger tattoo. She looked up at him as she licked over the ink and then continued kissing her way up, devastatingly close to where he needed her. So close.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Harry. All of you,” she brushed her hands up over his laurels and to the butterfly that was rising and falling with his breath, “I’m surprised you haven’t found someone special already.” She praised. As she lowered her lips to his belly button he felt her hair ghost over his cock and whimpered.
Y/n smiled into his skin as she grazed her teeth gently upward to the butterfly licked around the lines before dotting hot kisses over his pecs, “Please… please…”
Raising her face and looking up at her stepson, “Please? What is it, baby? What do you need?” Her smirk was devious. Harry loved it. He fucking loved every single thing she was doing.
“Wanna feel you on top. Gonna burst.”
Lowering her lips back to his pecs she sucked a nipple passed her lips and nipped. Harry threw his head back into the pillow and coughed out a loud groan, “Ask me nicely. Like a good boy. You’ll get anything you want from me if you’re good, Harry.” Her words were breathed out over his skin and the spattering of chest hair. Her lips made their way up to the swallows.
“Please, ma’am. I want to feel you on top. If you… ffuck… please.”
Her grin did not disappear as she licked and pecked her way up to his neck, “I’m dripping for you, Harry. Such a sweet boy with such a big cock for me to play with. Isn’t that right?”
Harry was going to lose it. This was his fantasy. No. It was better than anything he imagined. Y/n was better. He loved being put in his place because most of the time no one ever challenged him. Or made him feel this way.
“Y…yes. Just for you.”
Y/n sat up and straddled him, placing her knees down on the mattress to the sides of his hips. Finally. She placed her messy cunt over his shaft and slid herself up toward his frenulum and down toward his base, “Just for me. That’s right. Gonna let me play with your cock and fuck myself on it and make myself come, yeah?”
Harry nodded frantically and placed his palms on her hips as she leaned forward and placed her hands over his pecs, “When I start to ride you I’m gonna go slow, up and down like this,” she demonstrated by repeating the motion of her hips, tilting her pelvis down and letting her clit drive up and down over him as she panted, “so I can keep my clit in contact with your pelvis and I’m gonna come pretty fast. I need you to let me come before you do. And if you want you can come inside of me. That’s up to you. Just let me know what you want.”
Harry nodded, “It’s okay if I come inside of you?”
“Yes, it is. Would love it if you did but it’s your choice in the end. Can come in my mouth again if you want, or my tits. Whatever you like.”
“Inside of you, please. That’s what I want.”
“Mmm… such a good boy,” she tilted herself down so her breasts ghosted over his chest as she kissed him softly, lips moving with his and small sips of tongue before she slowly sunk down over him. That same mouthwatering initial push of his wide tip into her opening snapped and then spread her apart, “Hhharry! Fuck your dick is so fucking good!”
He couldn’t speak. It was so intense. His fingers gripped her hips as she shifted over him slowly. Her nails pinched into the flesh over his muscled pectorals and he felt his balls tighten. Her moans and pretty mouth with her tongue peeking out had him leaking steadily with pre cum, “I’m trying…” he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Her tits swayed as she rode him and the way she felt on him had him tipping too fast, “Fuck… Want you to come first…”
She cooed and slowed her hips, sitting upright and changing the position of him inside of her. Deeper yet as she leaned back gently and looked down to where his cock was buried into her.
Harry chanced a peek, not wanting to miss it, and he was not ready for the sight. He groaned and brought one hand from her hip to her clit and then looked up at her before focusing back on the way his cock spread her pussy lips as he thumbed over her clit.
“My sweet boy. Just hang on. This feels so perfect. Just want to soak it in with you.” She lowered her hand over his fingers where he was circling over her button and she hissed, “Gonna make me come so hard Harry,” she swayed her hips back and forth, keeping herself upright so they could enjoy the lurid show of their connected bodies.
Currents of hot arousal coursed through her body as she clenched over him and felt his cock nudging her cervix. It was a tight fit but it had her body leaning into an orgasm.
She leaned back forward, Harry’s fingers pushed away as he placed his hand back onto her hip and she slid up and down, dragging her clit into his pelvis and her gasps and fluttering walls signaled to Harry she was coming.
He closed his eyes and felt sweat at his temple as he felt her squeezing and pulsing as she moaned his name and he felt her thighs shaking, “Yes… yes! Harry! I need you… need this… Hhaaarry… fuck! Fffuck!”
The mattress moved and creaked under Harry’s back as his stepmom got off on his cock and Harry was certain he was already filling her up with gushes of his pre-come. He was doing his best but he’d never experienced a cunt squeezing around him in orgasm. It was witchcraft and he was obsessed. He’d never be the same.
“Come! Harry, come inside of me baby…” she moaned as she continued rocking over him, everything slick and smooth between them.
Harry choked out the loudest moan and he was so far gone he couldn’t be bothered to care how vocal it was. He didn't care if anyone heard it. He was coming and his sight dimmed as he pumped into his stepmom’s pussy as she milked him with her spasming muscle. Together their moans were the music of relief.
Y/n could feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of her as he released his sperm into her aching and slippery inner tissues. He was punching into her so deep from below her it made her quiver in euphoric pain. She leaned over him and attached their mouths as he finished himself inside of her. She grasped his head on each side, her fingers in his thick hair to keep his head tilted up so their lips could move together.
He'd come undone completely. Tears pricked at his eyes and slid down his cheeks as he whined into her mouth and attempted to kiss her in return. He moved his hands to her ass and pressed her down as he lifted his hips so he could burrow in deep causing her to gasp and then squeak at the punishing plunge.
“Fuck, Harry!”
They were both shivering and heaving and kissing with saliva-covered lips and moans and wildly beating hearts.
When he’d calmed he sucked in a sharp breath as she collapsed over him and snuggled her face into his neck. They were sweaty and sticky and hot but it felt precious and perfect.
Harry closed his eyes and basked in the way Y/n felt on top of him, her warm breath at his neck, her wet pussy soothing his softening cock as his heart calmed. He dragged his hands up from her bottom to her back and rubbed along her spine, the pads of his fingers slipping through the layer of sweat that had formed.
He felt her lips pucker at his neck and then her nose push upward until her lips were at his jaw and then she pushed up to look down at him.
“Are you okay?”
Harry couldn’t imagine not being okay as long as he was getting fucked like that. But the issue was that Y/n was not just some girl he could date and then fall in love with. There would be no possibility of them being together. In fact, he was unsure that this would ever happen again and that had his heart sinking before he could even answer her.
She noticed the look of unease over his features and she swiped at his cheeks with her thumbs, “Hey… what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was that-“
“No. That was everything I ever wanted it to be. It was perfect, Y/n. I’m… fine. I’m okay. Just thinking.”
She nodded as she moved herself off of him and lay on her side to talk to him. He followed her and rolled to his side, his hands not leaving her hips, not yet ready to be rid of this moment.
“Tell me. What are you thinking about it? You can talk to me.” Her fingers brushed over his arms and up to his shoulders as she watched his glassy eyes closely.
Harry smiled sadly and shook his head, “It’s stupid. It’s not your problem.”
Y/n sighed and lifted her leg to drape her thigh over his, “Talk to me. Please. We just did something very risky and now we’re treading in dangerous water. Let’s keep open with each other. Okay? Because there’s no one else to talk to about this,” she grazed her knuckles along his cheekbone, “Pretty boy. Please talk to me.”
He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to gather the thoughts brimming from his head.
“I don’t know how I’m ever gonna forget about this and move on.” He opened his eyes to look at her and slowly smoothed his palm over her side and to her breast, “I really like you. I’m feeling things that maybe I shouldn’t.”
Y/n nodded and swallowed. She loved the way his fingers ghosted over her nipple and how glassy his green eyes were, how gentle, “Me too.”
He blinked his eyes, all shiny eyelids and damp lashes covering and then revealing his pretty irises, “You do? Feel things?”
She grinned and closed her eyes. It felt like a lot. She wasn’t in love with him or anything and this had been a mistake for sure. An epic error. But she was feeling something. His warmth and his heart and his excitement. It transferred over to her veins and her skin and the roots of her hair and sparked a longing for something. When she opened her eyes again she licked her lips, “Yeah. I like you a lot. Wouldn’t have gotten this far if I didn’t.”
“Would you… consider doing it again? With me? Like,” he clenched his jaw and brought his hand up to her clavicle, “a thing just for us. Our secret?”
He was sure she’d say no.
Biting her lips she lifted herself and pulled Harry’s bottom arm under her head so she could draw in closer to him. She just wanted to be as close as possible. She brought her hand to lie flat over his heart and tilted her head back to look up at him, her thigh still braced over his hip. He moved his hand down her body to the back of her thigh as she adjusted herself in close.
“It’s so bad. What we’ve just done. It crosses a line. So many invisible lines,” she whispered as she traced her finger upward to his neck, “But… I guess I don’t care. Because I wanna keep doing it. I guess that makes me a terrible person.”
Stitching his brows together he frowned, “You’re a beautiful person, Y/n. So kind and smart,” he squeezed her hip and pulled her up to his mouth so he could kiss her. His stepmom, his lover, his paramour. He pulled back, his nose pressed to hers, “If you’re a terrible person then I’m right there with you. Let’s be terrible people together.”
They both laughed at Harry’s words and grinned widely.
It was ludicrous. A wild suggestion to continue their illicit affair. Of course, it would be easy. Too easy. That is as long as no one ever found out.
“Do I have you for the rest of the day?” Y/n tucked herself in closer as she asked.
“That you do. And I think there’s so much more for you to teach me. Might be a really late night for us.”
“Oh definitely, until the wee hours. So many things you need to learn before I let you leave.”
Next part: 2. No panties? | A Good Boy Masterlist
A/N: What did you think? I have so many ideas for this story but I didn't want it to get any longer than it already is. Would you guys be interested in seeing more? Let me know!
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ferrstappen · 1 year
Text
aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb
pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.
you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3
summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.
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Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.
Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.
They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.
His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.
"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.
Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.
They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.
A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.
Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.
You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.
It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.
Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.
"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.
Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.
"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.
"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.
"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.
You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.
those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.
but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.
"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.
God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.
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