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sushirrrry · 8 days

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EXECUTIVE a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 19.3k words cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dom/sub, breath play, dirty talk.

"If they want the fucking numbers, they've got to stop being pussies and give us the fucking reins. I'm not sitting around and waiting for their stock to crash and for their stupid, fucking minions to come back on me to tell me what I already knew and told them from the start—I'm not painted out to be the biggest fucking moron, that's for certain. It's either a deal or it isn't, plain and simple. If they don't want to have that fucking conversation, it's done. Fuck them and their stupid fucking counteroffer. It's a fucking slap in the face, and I'm not even entertaining the idea."

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear, clicking on End Call before he threw his phone over and onto the wooden desk that sat perpendicular to the vicious New York skyline. His heart raced as he shook his head.

An adrenaline junkie like him fed off of the conversations like these.

His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his eyes navigated towards the contractual wreckage of paperwork that had seemed to be forgone on his desk as he pushed some of it to the side. His elbows leaned on the desk; his hands tied together as he rested his lips again them in a precocious thought.

Running the company came with a sharp tongue and a knack for knowing when it was time to push back. Harry was a mogul in all of the sense of the word—his company had grown to a gargantuan size, which allowed his position within the business to skyrocket to a level that was so without fail that he couldn't believe it sometimes.

His mouth got the better of him; in some ways, it created the effervescence of attack. It was all that he could do to keep himself from picking the phone back up and telling them to shove it all back up their ass—he refrained for the time being, until he was pushed again.

But no one usually poked the bear unless they truly believed they had a chance in slaughtering them. Mr. Styles was far too confident in his work and his business to ever let that happen.

The bear's claws reacted too quickly for the barrel of the rifle to even face him.

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

His eyes raised to the door that he hadn't seen opening before his lips parted just a bit to answer the woman questioning him. She wore a black skirt with tall, black boots that suited the length of her legs. Her top arranged in a bit of a messy manor, but it was almost as if she had styled it that way to add a bit of flare.

Her blazer hung a bit low—practically to the mid-length of the skirt that rode up her thighs, but he wouldn't have been caught dead staring. In public, anyway.

His eyes made their assessment of her quickly before returning to her naturally, raspberry lips that took up much of her lower face. The natural length of her smile was perfectly proportioned, not that he had spent much time thinking of it, of course.

Felicity—his assistant. The one with eyes the color of the ocean that he would vacation on in the Maldives; the most piercing, stunning blue. The quiet one, a bit shy in her reservations, almost like she was the smallest fish in the ocean made entirely of sharks. Her reservations to others seemed to aid in bulldozing over her confidence, but to Harry, it was an enticing spectacle of fantasy.

A fantasy he'd promise to never share with even his closest comrades, if an NDA wasn't in place, that is.

The dark brown locks settled against her back in heaps of loose, voluminous curls as she held tightly to the phone behind her fingers.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her question a bit hesitant as she didn't seem to move any further forward into the large space of his office.

"No—no, you're not," He told her, "Come in, Felicity, I need to use your brain for a moment."

"My brain?" She asked him, cocking her head a bit.

That was the thing about Felicity that almost made him foam at the mouth– her way of innocence and contemplation that allowed him to see his viewpoints from her standpoint.

Harry's company was outsourcing most of the global news which meant that he oversaw several departments within. His leadership was only as good as the recommendations and guidance that Felicity was able to provide him; her devil's advocacy, her interpretation of empathy, and being able to see how interactions happened without Harry present versus the other sense.

Felicity was a practical need in his company for various reasons, not one to just make his blood boil and frantically move around his veins every time he caught a whiff of the coconut lime scent that his mind had become familiar with.

She was a calmness to him in many ways, so her presence now settled his heartbeat from the previous conversation.

"That deal we're making this afternoon, I just got off the phone with Sadler and they're folding– they're becoming weak. And it's pissing my off. They're coming to me to help solve their issues, because they know I can do it. They're , but they know we'll do it. Which pisses me off because it makes us look weak if we just say yes."

Felicity blinked a few times as she watched Harry's reaction, her legs crossed at the feeling before she held her hands in front of her and nodded.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth before he shook his head, a few of loose curls settled on his forehead as he pushed them back and Felicity wished that he hadn't.

"I think you're going to push them to do it without the counter," Felicity nodded. "From what I'm hearing, they're folding, and they can see that what we can provide is significant. Especially in terms of the election. We can do it– you can do it."

His eyes flew to her word change, noticing that her eyes had moved away from him. The subtle blush of pink ate away at her cheeks before Harry nodded in his own satisfaction.

"Enough about me," He shook his head, "What did you need, Felicity?"

Her eyes raised as it seemed she came back to conclusion about what she had been there for to begin with.

"Oh, I just talked with Nava at PLI and they wanted to express their gratitude towards you, because they said that you helped them with understanding the fundamentals of their offer and I thought it sounded like a for-sure deal– I just wanted you to know that Nava is a yes," She nodded and raised her brows again in remembrance, "Oh! And I'm also running to pick up some coffee and snacks before the board meeting. Flat white?"

Harry smirked at the praise from her, watching it leave her lips effortlessly. He nodded a few times at her question before he rose from his chair and grabbed the tie around his neck to loosen just a bit.

Harry grabbed the paperwork off of his desk before he moved towards the door and guided Felicity to follow. "Yes, please. A flat white with cinnamon, maybe a pump of caramel? What do you think?"

The words were like a question as Felicity walked next to him through the natural, brightly lit office. Her fingers tapped away at the device before she noticed the slight edge of the spicy cologne that wafted from his demeanor as he turned his head toward her.

"I'm not a huge fan of caramel," She stated a bit hesitantly as they stopped in front of one of the offices where Harry was about to go into a meeting.

He looked at Felicity as they stopped, his eyes moving up and down as he went from her lips to her eyes as if involved in a game of ping-pong.

"What do you like, then?" His words were soft, fluid.

Felicity swallowed as she shook her head a few times and nibbled on her lip. She hummed for a moment, "Um, I prefer vanilla."

The corner of Harry's lip moved upwards. "Make it a hot flat white with an extra shot of espresso, cinnamon, and a pump of vanilla, please."

Felicity wrote it down in her notes, but her fingers almost shook with adrenaline as she felt his gaze linger on her without her noticing before she nodded. "Great. I'll– uh, I'll leave now so I can be back in time to make sure you have what you need."

Her feet started to move away before she heard the booming sensation of her name. The way that her eyes fluttered back at him made Harry almost take a step backward.

"Uh," He felt speechless at the sudden look of her, "Please get whatever you need, too." He felt the professionalism start to creep its way back in. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job, you have notes to write."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek before she nodded. "Yes, sir."

With that, Felicity turned her back and started to head down towards the elevators. Harry turned to make his way into the boardroom where he saw the table sitting and waiting for his arrival.

The hush that fell over the crowd made him shutter every time– the power he held echoed through his conscious at every moment it could.

He only smirked as he sat at the head of the table, pulling himself to sit up and lean on the table before he looked up to see the many eyes staring back at him.

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

One of the board members pushed it away after taking a small sip, as Felicity had just sat it down in front of him.

It was an older gentleman– Hank– who had worked with the Styles family for many years and been able to help SCO with their major launches with other shareholders. His entitlement was present in the room, which pressed on her ego just a bit. Her head turned towards him as she shook hers.

A woman at the end of the time made a face as she looked at the side of the cup, "Ordered a fucking latte—they even messed it up and it's cold. The coffee shop is just down the block."

Felicity tucked some hair behind her ears as she shook her head in a bit of disbelief as she tried to find the receipt that the coffeehouse had given her. There wasn't any way that they gave her the wrong order, but she didn't know if there may have been a mix-up in who she gave the coffees to.

"T-That's impossible—I just order—" But she was cut off by the man who licked over his lips and held his hand up to stop her words from even echoing in the room at all.

"Just go get some hot coffee, would you?"

Felicity's eyes blazed around the room as she noticed that the others had practically ignored her efforts of the two full cardboard contents of coffee cups that she had practically run the streets of New York to pick up. Not only were they not even acknowledging her, but they were condescending in her efforts. Yes, she was an assistant—she wasn't their assistant. It wasn't her fault that she was one person, but she knew that she had to try harder to make the best impression that she could.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up and drink your coffees, would you? Our deadline is in six fucking hours. If you can't handle a little lukewarm coffee, get the fuck out of my office. I pay too much of your goddamn salaries for you to cry like a fucking baby."

Harry's eyes moved to the nervous-looking girl who stood by the door, along the edge of the buffet that held the rest of the coffee, donuts, and bagels that had practically been falling out of her arms when she arrived.

He couldn't tell—it may have been the lighting, but her eyes looked glassy as she tried to stand with her shoulders back. Harry caught her attention before she threw herself back together and walked over towards him, leaning down to where he sat at the table.

"I can run to go get something else, I don't think it would take too long, you know. Or I could order it to be delivered?" Felicity asked, a bit cautious, he could tell. But her piercing blue eyes were practically a shade of gray as he looked at them through her thick, tortoiseshell glasses that complimented the brightness of her eyes.

His eyes fell to the way that the chapstick she always applied gave her lips the most subtle peony color—so pink, but so natural. He thought that may be a better place for his eyes to land instead of directly into her eyes, but then he panicked for a moment and turned them back to her eyes.

"That's not necessary." Harry shook his head, answering for the individuals in the room. Even if they pushed their coffee aside, Harry would have never blamed it on Felicity for any failure—it wasn't her fault. He took a sip of his own; to his dismay, it was a bit cold, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

The stature of Felicity at the door made him take in a deep breath before he caught her attention, asking her to come towards him with just a look before she was practically on top of him. Her willingness to do as he said gave him a feeling of endorphins that were unlike any he had before.

Harry looked up at her from his seat, licking over his lips softly.

"Please make a reservation for two at The Malbec tonight at nine—whether or not these jackasses are going to be done working, I sure am, and I'm going to celebrate it. Add that I would like the executive seating and the Pauillac on the table, not chilled."

She nodded a few times at his requests, adding it into her notes on her phone before she looked back at him cautiously.

"Should I be arranging a car to pick someone up for you?" She asked. Her teeth scraping against her bottom lip as she waited for his response.

Harry shook his head back at her before filing through a few papers, "Not necessary today. Just make sure that you're not off the clock yet," He nods, "In case something doesn't go as planned."

Felicity nodded at the feeling of his eyes on hers before he turned to face the table before him.

"Someone get John on the phone," Harry ordered, his eyes going towards, "Hank. I want their numbers for the day and the plan for the fiscal year. I want to hear it from their lips, the spreadsheets don't mean shit if they're just going to lie to my face. Mary, contact PLI to get their rates."

Felicity had started to make her way towards the door, back towards her desk that sat in the main office towards Harry's own private one, before Harry called her back, "Felicity, sit in this meeting, will you? Grab your computer."

Her eyes narrowed at him in a bit of confusion before he stood up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it to the spot next to where he was, at the head of the table.

Felicity did as he wished, leaving to grab her laptop and notebook essentials that she used to keep track of his days, his weeks. When she arrived back, she could feel a few eyes on her as they talked through the deal with John. The silence in the room as he spoke over the speaker was deafening before she sat down at the spot next to Harry.

His focus on the conversation made her attention turn towards him.

Working at SCO was one of Felicity's highest honors—she felt that her confidence was gained just by being in the room with some of these people. But, at the same time, she wondered at what point this would all get to her. She wasn't like this—she didn't have the same cutthroat mindset of tearing another down to get herself to another place.

In some respects, that's what was the balance between what Harry was and what he knew that he needed. He needed someone like Felicity to sit next to him—a calming sensation that he didn't ever notice until he would garner a sniff of the coconut shampoo that drifted from her silky chestnut hair.

It was sickening at times—the way he felt about her. When he was sitting next to her now, he watched as she let her fingers grace over the laptop keys, focused in on whatever task she was working on. His eyes moved away when he watched as her teeth loosened on her lower lip, letting the plumpness of it a drawback to a straightened line of her mouth.

He shifted in his seat as he felt himself get a sensation of pressure below the belt.

When he spoke, it was with a confidence that she couldn't seem to place. It was as if he could break and make with just words alone, a skill that he had to have been born with.

As they discussed the offers more in-depth, Felicity found herself distracted from her own work as she let her eyes gently maneuver back to where Harry sat at the end of the table. Her fingers practically stopped typing as she listened to the conversation and watched as his brain work in overtime.

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

The narrowing of his brows, the calculated glance at the table as if he could cut through it with just his sight, the determined clench of his jaw.

"Don't fucking low-ball this," Harry practically snarled as he tapped the point of his pen to his notepad. "I know what's best for this company and we don't want people who underestimate the work and quality of our services. Globally, we're ahead of the entire market– we beat out every major network in significance. If you truly want to hand us a shitty number like that, you'll fucking fall. Your company will fail, and we will continue to sit right at the top as you lick the dirt off our shoes. It's not a competition; we've already won. So, do you want to win with us? That's the question here."

There's a slow chuckle on the phone, a bit of silence, too. Felicity looks up from her laptop to watch as a few members whisper to one another before hearing John on the other end.

"Listen, it's– we understand this. SCO is globally leading, but this is an election year– how are we supposed to gain traction when the news sources from SCO are against the current climate? We just don't see the same vision right now and we need to make sure our values are aligning– SCO may not be leading once the election happens."

Harry's eyes don't dim– Felicity watches as he turns different, his focus staying on the notepad under his fingers as he takes a beat before he stares at the phone in the middle of the table.

Her leg crosses under the table, gently caressing his unbeknownst to her. His eyes falter for once, as she retracts her position when she watches him crack for the first time. She noticed that he faltered but only a small huff of his breath before she bit her lip.

"We're a multi-billion-dollar company that focuses on the current political climate at hand since we completely understand the market, unlike someone who needs to be bought out to ensure that they don't sink. If you're just sitting in the open water, we will look the other way when a shark comes by," Harry shrugs, "I don't quite understand your vision of understanding moral compasses when you're sitting on significant lawsuits and company fouls that don't seem to benefit you right now or the lying, cheating words that come from your mouth."

Felicity's eyes flew up from her place at the table, watching as she saw everyone else's down. It was an unmistakable feeling of vigor that suddenly oozed from the place of Harry's seat. His demeanor was powerful, it was penetrable.

The quietness over the phone doesn't seem to faze anyone else, but Harry's eyebrow arches at the seconds that go by before he pops his tongue into the side of his mouth with a cheeky grin that was questioning on mad.

"Looks like they just got eaten by that fucking shark, huh." He says quietly before leaning over to press onto the conference room phone. He ended the call before he watched the room continue in silence.

Another woman, Laura, sitting at one of the sides spoke up as she held her phone in her hands.

"It looks like they're countering again." It was a bit quiet, almost like she didn't want the entire room to hear as she read on her phone before looking up at Harry, who held the emotion of a bear.

"Tell them they can choke on their own spit." He bites before Felicity cleared her throat.

His eyes immediately softened at the way that she interrupted, mostly because he was a bit confused by it.

"Mr. Styles," She pipped, "I—I, um, if I may." She chews on her lip a bit before she takes in a breath. "It sounds like they're needing a bit more leverage. Maybe a bit more face-to-face interaction that will cut and garner the deal. You're going to need more than John's input; he needs more intel from other aspects to understand what their losses look like."

Harry's eyes simply rest on Felicity as he leans back in the office chair, his legs crossed—a pursed pout on his lips as he nods at her words. A trickle of egotistical pride lies beneath his chest as he stares at her for a moment.

"Set the scene for me." He tells her, before watching Felicity take a deep breath. He watches her chest fall and rise and something about it sets him into high gear.

"Your family started this from scratch—this company is bigger than just the cash flow, and it's completely understood that it's worth billions, but they need to understand that there's a larger purpose for the work that they've put into it. They're not on the same business level that SCO is—it's apparent by the way that they throw around their value system. Meet with John outside of the office setting, get him where he can be able to see that you're serious without the psychological barrier of the phone—"

"That's fucking bullshit." Felicity hears from down the table, another man making a comment about her complete train of thought that. "You really think business is about emotion?"

Harry narrowed his brows, Felicity a bit surprised but not completely. Her head turning back towards her computer.

"You need to be thinking internally for what's best for us, not babying them to give us what we want. You know they're going to fall right into our hands, we don't need to get soft on them." Mary, a woman that Felicity generously thought would at least have an understanding of her interests, seemed to shame her more.

Harry pursed out his lips as he stares at the notepad in front of him. He pushed his hands against the table to rise from his seat before he's raised, watching silently as he eyes Felicity quickly before he starts to make his way out of the room. Before he does so, he turns his back and holds onto the door before he looks at Felicity directly.

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

She swallows down the lump in her throat; cursing herself for even making a peep. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. Instead, she closed the laptop before she grabs the few belongings and makes her way out of the door.

Harry is steps ahead of her, not looking back, as they make their way to the office that sits in the north side of the larger office space.

When he walks in, he makes his way to his desk before leaning on it. Felicity walks in behind him, hesitating before

Harry notices that she hasn't fully made her way in yet.

"Come in," He tells her, "Take a seat."

Her words practically spilling out of her as soon as they reached the threshold of the door; there was nothing that she could say now that would make him keep her there, but she wanted to at least try.

"I-I know I overstepped my boundaries– I promise, I really do, I promise I will never do that again," She's holding the laptop against her chest, practically begging, "This is extremely unprofessional, but you need to know that I need this–"

"Do you know why you're still here, Felicity?" He asks, "Why you're still at SCO?"

His interrupted words make hers fall short as she stands at the door still. His arms are holding himself practically against the desk as he leans back against it.

Tears threaten her eyes as she tries to think of what she needs to pack from her desk quickly. This feels entirely too personal– he's firing her on the spot.

She shakes her head as she doesn't want to come up with an answer. Harry squints his eyes a bit as he notices the emotion that starts to creep on her face. All the sudden, he feels bad for what he's doing to her.

It feels a bit forward, maybe a bit out of his place. But he needs her to know exactly how he feels about her, and why the last assistants never stuck around.

He needs her to know that's she's different.

"It's because you're fucking smart," He tells her, "What you have, they lack. You have this– well, for lack of a better word, you're emotional. You can see beyond the bullshit and really down to the person." He points towards the area of the conference room that they just left.

"I'm not here to baby your ass or carry you through this job– you don't need this fucking job. You have so much more about you than being an assistant, okay? So, don't take what some fuckers in that office say about you and your ideas as gospel. They aren't getting it done, either– as you can see."

Felicity's demeanor loosens at his words; her knuckles along the laptop at her chest starts to loosen as she breathes in just a bit.

"I'm sorry–"

"Stop apologizing." He orders, "When you do that, all you're doing is making them right about you. They aren't."

There's a silence between them for a moment before Felicity nods a few times and bites at her lip. "You're right."

"Most of the time." He tells her, a smirk has replaced the seriousness of their conversation. "That's why I have this big office and a 300ft. yacht and they don't."

She follows with her own small, sided smirk, watching as he goes to move from his position.

"That sounded very cocky, I'm sorry." He laughed a little bit, lowering his head as he felt a bubble of laughter. Felicity followed behind, laughing a bit as she bit on her lower lip.

The tension had been cut; this overwhelming feeling of comfort had started to come across her, specifically when Harry looked back up at her and she could see the shining level of his green eyes and the deepening dimples crossing his face.

It wasn't an emotion she saw very often; it looked impossibly lovely on him.

"Stop saying sorry, remember?" She reminded him, a sheepish smile laying on her lips.

Harry moved his fists into his pockets as he started to walk a bit towards her.

It was then that Felicity recognized that his pure power and force was enough to knock her down to her knees. The way that he stood up, his suit tailored perfectly around his small hips and shoulders, she couldn't understand the feeling that had come over her suddenly.

Harry approached her, they were standing eye to eye as he searched between them both. He had been searching for something, surely, by the way his eyes moved between her own.

Felicity tipped her chin up a little bit; it was slight enough that they both noticed, but a sudden embarrassment crossed her thought at the way she had possibly invited a completely inappropriate behavior.

"Let's get back in there, yeah?" She clears her throat as she turned her head and body, moving back out towards the conference room.

Harry's fists tightened next to him at the way she moved away, and he couldn't help but shutter at what could have possibly happened moments ago.

He lowered his head before he shook it a few times, "Yes, of course," He confirmed, nodding at her, "I'll follow you back, I'm just going to," He felt himself getting hot which made him feel vulnerable to her stares. "I'll be in there in a moment."

Felicity turned, her hair falling over her shoulders before she nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

Before she was able to move out of the room, Harry caught her attention once again before he narrowed his eyes to her. "Can I—that reservation I asked you to schedule. Please move it to Friday night. Something's come up, actually."

Felicity made a motion to speak, but she didn't end up with any words. Instead, just nodding a few times, her eyes smiling back at him as she agreed to his request. "Sure, no problem."

Her smile had vanished from his view as she turned to walk back to the conference room.

When she noticed that she was out of sight, his eyes had widened just at the breath that he had been holding in. It didn't matter how big or important a meeting could be, Harry never got nervous. He was never worried about anything—he knew what he was getting himself into, and nothing scared him. There wasn't a reason to be.

Standing in front of Felicity was a feeling he had never imagined would give him a doubt; he never felt like he would be pushed away or turned away, and the feeling of dismissal was encapsulating, to say the least.

He pushed his hand into his hair as he went to sit in the chair that was pushed in behind his desk, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shook his head.

Never in a million years did he think that he would feel such a way—never like this.

"Let's get back to work, then."

_______________

It had been a few days since the encounter in his office. Harry had noticed that even the next morning, Felicity seemed to be in much better spirits. Her head was held high; her shoulders were sitting back, like she was prepared to keep her chin up for the day.

He could catch glimpses from his office, watching as she typed away or smiled down at her phone. A piece of him felt only the slightest bit of—he didn't know the feeling very well—jealous. He wanted to know more, wanted to understand what she could have been smiling at.

He knew that his job had been done a few days ago as he watched her spirits rise just at his words. Something about that feeling was missing now—he didn't understand what it was, but his ego may have been getting in the way just a bit.

Harry sat his pen down that he had been using to write out some tasks before he grabbed the pad of paper and started to make his way out of his office. The small desk that sat outside of his was taken by Felicity; a few photos and memorabilia sat to give her space a bit of light and personalization.

It didn't mimic Harry's own office very well, as his was kept more straightforward and narrower. There wasn't any photos or personalized mementos—just plain, really. But the photo of Felicity and another man caught his eye, something he had never really seen before. Something he never felt that he would have had to pay attention to, that is.

"That your boyfriend?" He felt himself saying, but an ultimate feeling of embarrassment rose as he watched Felicity look up at him quickly. It was clear that she hadn't really noticed him sneak up on her, and her hands flew to the phone on the desk before closing the screen promptly.

"Uh," She shook her head, "I—I mean, we've been talking a few months," She referenced to the phone before she looked back at Harry and noticed that there may have been a bit of miscommunication.

"Oh—uh, no, sorry," He shook his head, pointing to the photo that sat on her desk. "I was—that photo, I'd never seen that before."

Felicity turned her eyes towards the photo that sat on her desk in the black frame before letting out a breath of relief. "Oh! No, that's my brother." She laughed a little bit before she watched Harry reach out to grab the picture frame off her desk.

He studied it for a few seconds, letting his smile move up a bit before he sat it back down. "Yeah, you guys look alike. I just—it was new, so I didn't know."

Felicity bit on her lip before tucking her hair behind her ears, "No—yeah, I would make that assumption, too. It's fine, but yeah." She didn't know that he would notice that she set up the photo or not. She knew now that he paid attention; he had an attention to detail, it seemed.

The small moment gave Harry a bit of concern as he felt that there was some unresolved feeling between the two of them. He cleared his throat, holding the paper out before her as she piqued at the small task guide that Harry had been feverishly writing down.

"I have a few things that I need to get done today, if you don't mind." He had handed her the paper before her eyes ran over it a few times. "It's just a few little things, but I need to have a few suits dry-cleaned for our business summit on Monday in England—I'm flying out tomorrow morning on the jet, but we'll need to make sure that everything is taken care of for that. I believe you, myself, Laura, Hank, Daniel, and probably William will be there, so we'll need to make—"

"Excuse me, but," Felicity chuckled before shaking her head a few times. "Did you say me?"

Harry blinks a few times in confusion before he bites the inside of his cheek. Surely, she knew that she would be leaving in the morning– she had to have known that as his assistant, she would be most responsible for being on the trip.

"Uh, well," Harry blinked, "Yes, I mean. of course. You're the most vital person for the trip, really."

Felicity bit into her lip before she turned towards her notes, her eyes flickering over them as she realized she wouldn't need to send him a detailed email of their agenda– she'd be there to tell him in person. So, all this work—it didn't matter now.

"Right– yeah, of course. I'm stupid for not putting that together." She shook her head as she took in a sigh, crossing out a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention back to him before she cleared her throat. "What time should I be at the airport tomorrow, then?"

Harry bit his lip, shrugging as he felt the smile crossing his lips, "I don't know—you tell me. You're my assistant."

Felicity blinked at him a few times before laughing out a little bit, letting her head rest in her hands as she felt a bit ridiculous for feeling so caught off guard. "Right—right. I—yeah."

In the back of his head, there was a delicate feeling of intrigue that bit at the back of him. He squinted his eyes a bit as he settled against the edge of her desk. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he narrowed his attention down to Felicity until she looked up at him and felt the wandering look. All Felicity knew is that she didn't want to look at the way that his forearms protruded against the fabric of his pressed white button-down.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her, the smile on his lips tug briefly before he was letting it fully on display. "You seem a bit... caught up."

She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked at her computer screen. "I'm fine—yeah. I'm just—I was a bit caught up, I guess," She chewed on her lip as she realized that getting personal was just that. It was personal. She didn't want to bore him or let know too far in. Their relationship was strictly business; it seemed that she endeared him though.

Her eyes traveled back to him when he didn't seem to leave her alone and she noticed that she'd had another message.

"I'm just... the guy I've been seeing, well, on and off—he just asked me to dinner and he's picking me up from here tonight around five. We haven't seen each other in a while, he's a bit..." She bites her lip again as she tried to find the right word, "I don't hear from him often. But when we're together, everything is fine. So, I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed with it."

Harry pinches the inside of his bicep when she speaks, his smile fading just a bit. He didn't want her to notice that, though. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had been excited for someone who was making her wait. Instead, he shifted a bit on the desk as he cleared his own throat before speaking.

"That's—that's great," He tells her, watching as she smiles at his appreciation and acceptance, "Where is he taking you?"

"We're just going to this place off from fifth avenue, some place he said is nice. We're really just meeting for a beer or something." Felicity's eyes light up at the realization before she turns to face him a bit head on now, her chair swiveling around before she crosses her legs and faces him. "What about you, though? That reservation I made for you tonight—who are you meeting with?"

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

He remembered the reservation he had moved to tonight, simply so that he could flesh out a few details with Felicity over a dinner with just the two of them. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it to her. It was stupid of him to think that she wouldn't be busy on a Friday evening, of course. He had wanted to talk to her about the upcoming week; maybe get a little more out of her if everything was off the record at a dinner that wasn't going on the company credit card, but his own personal dollar.

Harry shakes his head a bit before he scratches at the back of his head, "Uh, right. I—I might need to cancel that. I don't think that's going to happen anymore."

Felicity watches his expression before she seems to mimic with a bit of somber. "Oh. Sorry. Tough subject?"

When he pushed himself from her desk, he placed his hands in his pockets before he hung his head a little bit. It hadn't occurred to him that the disappointment had been a bit stronger than anticipated-- and it wasn't just because he always got what he wanted.

"Hm, something like that," He tried to explain before he changed the subject to get it off his mind, "But yeah. So, dry-cleaning and all that can be finished before the morning, yeah? If you have any questions about any of that, I'll be in my office. Meeting at one and then I'm going to leave here around five."

Giving him a warm smile, Felicity nodded her head at him, watching as he turned to his office.

Her attention fell back to her phone; falling back to the smile and giddiness that had been so rudely interrupted by a different kind of feeling—one that she wasn't so sure she was supposed to enjoy, in that way, anyways.

_______________

The black Suburban pulled up against the curb; Harry's phone against his ear as he moved towards the vehicle in a fluid motion.

A driver had opened the door before he crawled in the back seat. The call on the other end had been a business call that he was supposed to listen in on; he wasn't going to speak, just listen to the meeting of what was said. He decided it had been enough and clicked it to end before he looked up and out of the window.

His head turned towards the door before he watched Felicity standing at the curb. She looked uncomfortable as she stood and had her eyes searching for whatever it was that she was looking for.

It was a little bit past six then; the rest of the day was filled with a meeting or two before he really started to get more work, letting his head get wrapped up in taking calls and finishing off emails before he would be away from the office for a bit.

This was how they left each other on most days; his car pulled up, and he usually drove away before he could notice if she caught another ride or if she headed towards the subway. Her eyes were searching— almost like she had been waiting for something or someone but didn't want to seem disappointed. Harry could feel it in his chest—he could feel the way that she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a bit of distress.

It had occurred to him then that Felicity had mentioned that she was supposed to be picked up around five—a full hour ago.

The rain had started just a bit, enough that she quickly looked to the sky for a moment as if to curse it.

He watched as her phone fumbled in her hands. A discerned look on her face made him halt the driver before they could start pulling away. Harry watched her, the knowing look on his face as he rolled down the window to call out towards her.

"Felicity," He stated, opening the door before he stepped out. "Come on, get in."

Her eyes looked to him, practically mortified. Her head started to shake a bit before he moved out of the car just enough that she noticed his offer was serious and that he wasn't moving. The door was open now as he stood outside of it and held it open for her.

"Let's go– it's raining." He said, squinting a bit as the rain started coming down a bit more.

It seriously took Harry a moment before he realized that it may take a bit more for Felicity to listen to him; her contemplation didn't last long as the rain started to hit the cement loudly—her papers and bag held over her head as she made her way towards the open door of the large vehicle.

Felicity's heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried into the back of the van, crawling across to the other side and trying to keep her skirt down as she realized he would be coming right behind her.

There was a brief pause of silence when the door shut behind Harry.

Once they were situated in the backseat, Harry looked at her for a moment as she seemed a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were on her phone as she cleared her throat.

Her eyes were narrowed down as she searched through some texts, a bit all over the place it seemed. Harry knew Felicity better than this, and her nerves were starting to overwhelm her hand, almost like she was completely unsure of what was happening right now.

"Do you just—do you mind dropping me off at fifth ave—" She had started, but he was already shaking his head.

"He's not showing up, so no. Peter, drop us at The Malbec."

Her head turned towards him at the bluntness of his tone and the way that he resisted her need. The way that he answered her was unlike he had ever spoken to her; that caught her off guard the most.

Felicity flipped through her texts once again before she scoffed out, "Harry, I have a date tonight. I'll just get a car from there—"

"No, you won't." He told her, before situating himself in the back. The way that her hair had a bit of windswept to it, the length of her lashes, the complete blush of her cheeks—it was all enough for him to generally bust at the seams.

Seeing her like that was a wake-up call as he looked away and tried his best to be a gentleman.

"I'm off the clock, so my duties are relinquished for the night." She told him sharply, giving herself a bit more voice before Harry really glared at her this time. He had never heard her speak to him in such a way, but something about it gave him a mouthful to bite from.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, I'm your boss." He told her; his eyes seemingly turning a darker color the more she stared at him. It was enough for her to scoff and turn her head out of the window as they had started to drive up towards the restaurant that she refused to go to.

Harry spoke again, this time a bit softer. "It's just dinner. No work."

It takes a moment before Felicity leans into the window and lets her head rest against the glass. The feeling of the coolness takes over before she shuts her eyes for a moment. It doesn't feel like she wants to cry, but maybe there's a bit of emotion that she can't seem to let go of.

The disappointment aspect was never good to her; that was how this always worked. Something always disappointed her. There hadn't been a moment when she felt comfortable or safe—no, really, she just wandered around in this life with so much hope. So much hope and very little pride, now.

She lived for the hope of it all.

When they made their way to the restaurant, it had started to rain a little less. It was merely a sprinkle before Peter pulled off to the curb closest and the two of them were able to get out.

Felicity was instructed that she could leave her work items in the car, bringing only her purse as Harry followed behind her. When they walked into the restaurant, her eyes widened at how fancy it was—the dim lit lights were much brighter than the sky had been at this time of day, especially when the clouds rolled in.

The host was able to take them directly to their seats—the ones that Felicity had made the reservation for. It was an intimate seat; two chair and a small table that were seated close to the window, but enough away from everyone else.

The Paulliac was on the table as instructed; the host pulled the chair out for Felicity before she was able to take a seat. The only reason she would have ever been to a restaurant like this is for a work event. The host sat menus in front of them before giving them some space.

Harry pushed his sleeves up on his forearm; the littering of tattoos on him was endearing to Felicity's eye before she looked away at the attention she was drawing to them.

"Wine?" He asked her softly, taking the bottle from the table and holding it out in a means to offer her some. She had agreed, nodding a few times before looking at the menu and the items on it. Surely, she couldn't pronounce half of them before she looked up to see that Harry had been looking at her already and her cheeks grew rosier.

Felicity felt that there was a tenseness now, like she didn't have too much to say. She didn't want to say too much and bore him, she didn't want to not say a word and feel the awkwardness that seemed to linger as they sat longer.

"I mean, since we're here," Felicity grabbed the phone from her purse as she scrolled through it, pushing her hair out of her face to tame it a bit from the frizz that the rain caused, "So, just to recap some new additions to the calendar, you have a dental appointment next Monday, a meeting with PLI at 10—"

"You said you grew up in DC, didn't you?" Harry cuts her off, his question making her turn to look at him with a solid glance before she starts to nod a few times. It was a bit unwarranted, but she decided that she would settle into it.

Felicity doesn't know why his soft voice seems so foreign from the bitter sound of his usual bite.

"Y-Yes, yeah, I grew up in Northern Virginia, actually." She gives him a solid answer before she licks her lips. Her hand moves to grab the wine glass, taking a solid sip before she places it back into its spot on the white knit tablecloth.

Harry nods at her simple answer, not necessarily looking for anything else. His head was filled with the worked he had been processing through the week, and something about this felt... warranted. He wanted this to be normal; to feel like she could see him from a different perspective, maybe, without less fear in her eyes.

Something about her makes his blood boil with a derailment—it's almost like he can't seem to read her, which makes him angry and animalistic, almost. He doesn't know why but he feels a bit shy in her presence.

Her eyes read over the menu before she clicks her tongue, "Anything on here that you would recommend?"

"You have any food aversions?" He asks, pretending to look over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.

She shook her head, not really thinking of anything. She knew that there were foods she didn't particularly enjoy, but she knew that if something was going to be expensive, she would put that aside to at least try.

When the waiter came by, Harry took initiate to order for the table– the two of them. He ordered an entrée, three appetizers, and a spring salad. Felicity listened as he did so, knowing that he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it.

She couldn't relate to that; not these days, at least. She didn't know what she wanted, so she pretended not to think about it most days. Instead, she recognized that not putting the pressure on it made it feel like it was enough; she had to understand that she was okay to be a bit unsure at times.

The restaurant has a crowded chatter amongst the guests, but Harry can't help but pay attention to the silence of the table instead.

"So," He pulls at the tie around his neck just a bit as he leans towards her at the table. "I'm thinking of possible meeting with PLI, in person. Like you mentioned this week, at that meeting. Something about looking someone in the eye might be the best approach and making sure everything is clean."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, watching as she took another sip of the wine. Her eyes were placed now on her hands that laid in her lap.

"Thought this wasn't a work dinner." She mumbled out, but suddenly caught herself, "But yeah– yeah, I think that would be good."

Harry pressed his tongue into his cheek, tilting his head a little bit as he heard her questioned statement. His frustration at not being able to read her was posing a threat to his mood before he shrugged a little bit, "It doesn't have to be, but you are kind of quiet, and I feel like I made you uncomfortable in the car. Or something."

"I'm not uncomfortable," She lied, "I'm– I don't know. I'm just a bit thrown by the events of the evening, and I think men are kind of preposterous right now. Please don't take that personally, and really, no offense or anything."

Harry shrugged, his lips turning downwards as he contemplated the truth in her statement, "None taken. I may agree with you, but," He licked his lips, "Can we agree that women are sometimes a bit..."

As he hesitated for a moment, Felicity spoke instead. "I would suggest that you not finish that sentence, probably. It sounds like the beginning of an HR concern."

Harry lifts a brow in curiosity from her argument that seemingly pushed her a bit out of the boundaries, "You can speak, but I can't? Don't believe that's a fair view of how you think women should live in society, is it? You want fair treatment, so I'm going to be honest with you."

"I didn't limit you from speaking, I just suggested that you should not. You can definitely say whatever it is that you'd like to say to me, Mr. Styles." Felicity shook her head a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. The way that she said his name always made him a bit woozy.

There was a moment when Harry wasn't completely sure that he didn't see the glimmer in her eye—that he didn't see a sparkle that may have been a fleeting moment, just a quick nod to him before it was gone forever, making him look mad for even thinking it in the first place.

"I will say it, then, if you're willing to listen," Harry told her, "I think that men and women aren't usually equal—nor should they be," He paused for a moment before he watched as her facial expression started to contour with a confusion so loud that he was certain the chefs in the back could hear. "I think that we live in a balancing act. For instance, the guy that you were looking to see—sure, he's probably an asshole, but you continued to want to see him. The pendulum works both ways. Maybe you shouldn't have wanted to meet up with him."

Felicity scoffed out a breath before she took a sip of the wine again—she could feel that there was a growing fuzziness that she wasn't able to keep up with. "Oh, you're giving me relationship advice now?"

The way that she bit when she had a bit of alcohol in her made Harry's eyes turn a darker shade of green that was unable to be noticed by the dimness of the restaurant that sat in. It was much more direct than she ever had been with him before; he wondered if this was how she was normally.

"I like to think I have your best interest in mind." He tells her with full honesty, feeling a bit bare with the truth laying flat on the table.

There is a moment that Felicity feels her heartstring tug, wondering if he meant it to hit her as specifically as it did. But she clears her throat when she watches the way that Harry refills the glass of red wi the out her asking for it, noticing that he fingers tremble when he grabs the bottle.

"I— I really do appreciate it, like, what you– I mean, you probably don't remember, but just this week with the whole coffee incident–"

Felicity is cut-off, by him, but she can see that the anger peculates off of him as he recalls the incident, "I hate that they think people are below them like that. It bothers the shit out of me," She can tell that the thought bothers him; his eyes narrow down as he takes a sip of his own wine, "Yes, it's your fucking job, but it's also not worth their time to be shitty to you for something you can't control. And you couldn't be nicer, grateful, kind—"

Harry's cut off by the food coming to the table. He shakes his head at the possible embarrassment he may encounter from the softness of rambling he had started to portray about some of her highest qualities.

The dinner that came out was exceptional— nothing less of what Felicity could have imagined. It was top-tier; the wine that was paired with it made her giggle a few times when Harry would go on rants about the way that he thought some of the companies ran. He would start the conversation with, 'off the record' and she would smile about how he could keep their conversations low.

It wasn't until she had told a soft-spoken jab about how she believed that he needed to stop hiring old, white men that she noticed that his dimples were parallel on either side of his face. They lit up his features, turning his eyes the color of a southern sky.

When they had finished, Harry took the check with ease and signed his name in capital letters, as if he wanted everyone to know that he had spent the amount of money at dinner that she spent in a month of rent.

Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as they maneuvered out to the car. The street was starting to become a bit crowded, especially at the door for the wait. Harry had texted his driver to make sure they could be picked up, which again, he made sure to open the door for her as they flew into the backseat.

Felicity told the driver where she needed to go; back to her apartment that sat on the upper West side of the city. It was close to Central Park; a few blocks away, she'd say.

There's a moment when Harry feels that he doesn't want the night to end. He surely doesn't want to watch her leave— that's for sure. The car ride is spent with him catching her glances as they watch the lights in the city pass by; the honking of the cars and the putter of rain starts to encapsulate the backseat.

"Is this good for drop off?" The driver asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Felicity before she nods, agreeing with a soft yes, and starts to collect her things. The items she had brought from work were still in their place.

Harry watched as she goes to speak, knowing that it was going to be a goodbye. He would surely see her in the morning, but he couldn't bare the idea of flying across the ocean, staring at her across the seat from himself, without any words left unspoken.

"Uh," He shifted a bit in the back of the car, Felicity could see that he was looking up towards the building that she called her own. "Do you actually mind if—uh, I really have to piss."

Her eyes widened a bit before she let her own lips widen into a smirk. "Oh— yeah, please."

It hadn't occurred to her until they were walking up the steps and into the building that she may have had some underwear on the floor and could potentially have a sink filled with dirty dishes— she couldn't quite remember.

But what she did know was that Harry was following in her steps as they climbed a few flights until they reached the third floor.

"Quite a workout, huh?" Harry puffed as they reached the front door to her specific apartment.

"Hm," She hummed, "Imagine having to move all of my furniture up here. I had to ask random men on the street to help me."

Felicity digs into her purse before she's able to find the keys to the front door.

"I don't want to be super nosy," He looked around the small vestibule that they were standing in while Felicity tried to find her keys—even though the purse she held was naturally quite small. "But is there any reason you live in a place that resembles a prison?"

Felicity chuckled out a laugh before she found the small keyring and tried to put it into the lock. Her hands were a bit unsteady—the wine was holding the buzz over her as she steadied her hands to unlock the small door.

"This is what livable looks like in New York," The door swung open; Felicity moved into the tiny apartment before placing her bag on the kitchen counter. "Maybe I need to have a discussion with my boss about a raise."

It wasn't the smallest apartment, but it was exactly what she needed. There was no storage space, but there was a separate room for each need—living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. She had a small working office in the corner by the balcony that she had been lucky enough to score from this specific unit.

Harry looked around the place, his eyes feasting on every detail. "That can probably be arranged if I can be certain that you won't get mugged getting into your front door."

He noticed how lived in it felt—the opposite of the cool, modern, high-end penthouse he would resort to later that evening. Everything was painted a different color of beige, keeping the lightness of the empty place very noticeable.

There were photos on the walls, painting and portraits, there were words that resembled some of her favorite music and books. It was colorful and there were plants that were seemingly a bit out of control.

"The bathroom is right there, by the way." Felicity pointed, before Harry turned towards the small room to his left.

"Thanks." He stated before he moved into it and shut the door behind him.

It was the same reaction he had to the living room and kitchen; his eyes narrowed in on the details of the shower curtain and the small bottles of serum that sat along her sink. The way that her toothbrush was bright pink, matching the towels that hung on the wall.

There were delicate parts of her that he was certain she wouldn't have told him about because she didn't think that it mattered. But in the long run, he liked the bits of color and the pieces of art that hung next to her sink.

It was a detail he hadn't really thought about of her before.

When he had come back, he stared at her position in front of the sink. Her sleeves were rolled up as she washed a few dishes that had been sitting there. Her heels has been removed, but the jacket and the short skirt still hung from her delicate frame as he watched the way that she focused on a task.

She noticed that he was looking at her now before she gave a small smile and felt that he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

"I would offer you something to drink—I mean, I would offer you anything, but I'm not really," She looked around the kitchen. "I have coffee and vodka. And not like," She scrunched her brows together as she looked in her fridge. "Not good vodka. You would look down on me if I served you this, kind of vodka."

Harry let his smile tilt up a bit as he meandered into the small space of the kitchen. If she was offering him anything—

"You really think I'm that much of a snob?" He smirked.

Felicity huffed a little bit as she turned her head towards him, "The wine we drank tonight was $600 a bottle."

He doesn't say anything for a moment before he tilts his head a bit and shrugs off the comment. He wonders if she thinks of him differently—not for being her boss, but for having a high taste. Possibly the earlier of the two, too.

"I grew up that way, I guess. It's hard to decipher what's normal." He tries to explain to her, which makes her look at him with a mockery of a face. Her eyes roll with a smile, and he gives her a look of disdain.

She goes to respond to him, but instead he moves his body practically over top of her back to grab the vodka that sits on the second shelf of the fridge. It's a bottle that cost Felicity about $12.75 just the other week, and it has a good amount still left in it. Harry holds the neck of it in his hands before he looks at it and sets it down on the counter.

"Lemons? Juice? Anything?" He asks; taking the liberty himself to look through one of the cabinets to try and find himself a glass. Felicity stays still for a moment before she's able to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

Her boss—Harry Styles, CEO, is standing in her kitchen and trying to make himself a cocktail with her $12.75 vodka that she had bought at the bodega just a few days prior. He's perusing through the cabinets—the few that she had—before he turns to her.

"Uh, I have a bar cart." She tells him solidly, before she moves her way into the living room where the car sat. Her head is feeling fuzzy, and she wonders if adding the vodka to it will make her completely lose all faith in herself. She has a feeling it will make her say something absolutely ridiculous, to him of all people.

Felicity grabs the shaker, two glasses, a lemon from one of the small bowls that she uses for décor but also for moments like this and makes her way to the kitchen where Harry has already taken the ice trays out. When he looks back up at her, he nods back to where she came from, her eyes following his gaze.

"Go sit on the couch, let me make you a drink." He tells her, "You had a long week."

"I'm going to be completely honest with you," She folds her hands together before he looks at her with a bit of a concerned look, "I don't know if I like the roles reversed like this."

He gives her a smug smile before he turns back to what he had been doing previously; now filling up the shaker with ice before he poured a few seconds worth of vodka into it.

"You think I'm a stuck-up prick," He tells her, "Let me show you that I'm not, will you?"

The statement that he left on his lips settled in the air between them; Felicity blew it away as she breathed outwards and just nodded in place. She suddenly became a bit meek before she made her way back to the sofa where she settled into the cloudy cushions, sitting with her legs underneath of her as she tried not to flash anything from her skirt. She heard Harry mixing the cocktails in the glass shaker, shortly before coming out with two glasses in his hands.

He hands over a glass that looks solemnly... clear. Maybe a bit too clear, but she felt satisfied to know that he was trying his best to make a spot in her world. She didn't have to climb to his level, he was trying to stay at hers.

"To..." He trailed off as he held his glass up to her. The small loveseat that they sat on felt incredibly intimate all the sudden.

"To... London?" Felicity stated, "To having to be up tomorrow at five, but continuing to drink even though we can get to London."

Harry laughed at her words before he clinked his glass against hers, "To London."

The way that his accent wrapped itself around certain words held her attention briefly before she was able to take a sip of the cocktail he prepared. Strong wasn't the word; overkill may have been more like it.

"Holy fuck," She coughed softly before she felt a sting in her eyes, "That's—please never go into bartending."

A subtle look of offense took over his face as he went to take a sip of his own before he widened his eyes at the flavor of it. "Oh, shit. Yeah, wow. That—that'll do some damage."

Felicity started to laugh at his own reaction before she sat the drink down on the coffee table and watched Harry do the same.

"So, to brief then," She stated, "I believe that it's still true that you're just a stuck-up snob who can't do anything on his own, including making a cocktail."

Harry stood up for a moment but took offense to her comment. He started to remove his jacket, which only intrigued her—it meant he was staying a while longer. "Hey, to my defense, your fridge is very, very sad. There was not much I could have done to make this better. If you're going to drink vodka, at least buy a decent brand."

Felicity tucked the hair behind her ear, "I'm here to make vodka Sprite's, okay? Not martinis," She leaned against the back of the sofa, "And there you go again with being the rich snob."

It was annoying to her that he had decided to roll up his sleeve, just enough on his forearm that she was able to see the tattoos that weren't seen very often. Seldom, really. In the office, she would notice that he would be focusing on something in his office, his sleeve rolled up a bit, but that was the extent of it.

It seemed there were many more up his arm than she had initially thought, but she knew that she would never see them all.

When he went to sit down, he went to move the throw pillow behind his arm, but as he did so, he noticed something black against the white couch cushion.

Immediately, his fingers flew to the item before he lifted the lace that held his attention quite mesmerizingly. Felicity gasped at the realization before she grabbed them from his hands, absolutely mortified didn't even cut it.

"I'm so embarrassed," She finally spoke, almost trying to blame the redness of her cheeks on the strong beverage he gave her. She knew that it was the inflammation of her dignity, not the vodka.

There wasn't a word spoken before she watched that his expression changed surprisingly. He took a long sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down.

But the smile that follows from the cocktail is all she needs to see before she can smile back.

"You continue to surprise me," His words were placed with a package of slurring vocab before he swallows back anything else he'd say out of pocket, "I'm going to be very honest that I didn't imagine you as— I mean, I never imagined you in lace."

"You say that like you imagined me in something else." The words that came from Felicity weren't her own—she didn't know why she said them, but his quick rebuttal shut her up completely.

"Silk, probably," He uses his finger to touch the rim of the rocks glass that he's holding, where the condensation made a drip over the dress pants that situation themselves over his thighs, so lucky. "Or—I mean, you could surprise me even more," He went quick after a moment.

Silence. Protruding silence that is viciously capturing them in this haze of only breath that either of them can hear. It's uninterrupted until Harry leans his head back and the creaking on the sofa fills Felicity's head, rather than the idea of what's to come.

She had felt it before; the warranted tension that Harry seemed to have over her. Maybe it was her fault for leaning into it, but sometimes, she just couldn't help it. The way that he found himself taken by her was just unspoken most of the time. She was surprised that he wouldn't have pulled anything at dinner, but she could fill in the blanks as she invited him up to her apartment.

It was inevitable, she thought.

She shouldn't have done that, but should not's were not what she was thinking about as she drowned herself in the alcoholic state of the sour vodka that wafted of lemon juice and baited words.

Instead, Felicity blinked a few times, watching as he stared at the ceiling. The blankness of the pure white ceiling seemed to keep him grounded before she watched his jaw tighten.

"You're full of surprises, a lot of mystery, you know?" Harry breathed out. The tie around his neck was getting tight, but he couldn't loosen it now—if he was being honest, it was adding to the pleasure of the moment. He wouldn't speak that out, but while the tightness caused a bit of discomfort, he thought of it in other instances. "I'm not sure I can keep up with it."

There was an unresolved tension in the words he spoke, maybe even a bit of slur in them before Felicity followed suit; her head resting practically next to his as she stared at the blank white ceiling that had very little to memorize or stare at.

"What fun is a mystery if it's solved?"

He wasn't sure if she saw—he wasn't sure if she saw the way that his eyes fluttered at the thought of uncovering every instance of mystery that she kept hidden away, in this small apartment. The air was starting to become lost on them, feeling like the oxygen was being pulled as he breathed. The shakiness of his breath was caught by her when she turned her head—she wished that she hadn't.

All she could process was the way that his eyes stared upwards, lips parted in an unsure manner before she watched his eyebrows knit in a deep thought that she couldn't seem to interpret. But this pique of interest held her as she kept her eyes on him—he could feel every deep breath that she tried to mask.

"I don't know if you knew this about me," He quietly stated, "But I really can't handle the unknown."

It was then that his head turned towards her; the distance between them was much shorter than he could have thought. He didn't notice until his eyes directly moved towards the way that her lips curved in the small bow, the one that he had known so well from the number of times that he couldn't keep his eyes from her. But this was different; this held much more tension that he couldn't believe.

This time he could smell the liquor that lingered on her lips that mixed so well with the cherry of the chapstick that he knew she applied generously. He would watch the way that it slid over the lips as he sat at his desk and wondered what was on her mind.

"You're very good at getting what you want," Felicity breathed, watching as he shut his eyes for a moment. It was as if with every word she spoke, he was closer and closer to the edge of something great.

Her eyes traveled to the way that his legs sat just open—they were just waiting for someone to notice. Felicity swallowed at the idea of sitting between them, on her knees. Sitting there with her eyes laying on him; he took notice of her tense shoulders and her harbored through before he sat up just a bit. He scooted himself back on the sofa—Felicity blinked at the way that he invited her with just the flicker of his eyes.

No words needed to be spoken when the look could speak for itself, but the way that he speaks breaks the barrier of silence.

"How good am I at getting what I want?"

The heavy eyes that she held were only staring at his lips and the way that he spoke—the flicker of his tongue over the satin maroon of his lips. She couldn't contain herself, because she knew that his aura was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen it up close and personal; she knew that everything that he did was because he was in it one hundred percent.

He didn't half-ass anything—not a report, not a phone call, not a meeting, not a thought.

Everything Harry did was with the full intensive purpose of being the only thing on someone's mind, body, and soul.

Felicity trembled in the spot next to him, but her legs urged to move themselves. Her brain wasn't moving as fast as her decisions; and in an instant, her knees lowered to the spot in front of him. Her hands settling on the thick of his thigh as she allowed her eyes to hold his. For a moment, hesitation crossed his face, but she could have mistaken it for vulnerability.

The way that he breathed outwards was enough to make her gain the strength of a thousand horses—the talk that he talked wasn't as strong now, she felt a sensibility of pure radiance from her actions.

"I'd say you're the best at it, really." She let her hands settle on his thighs, but she took them away so she could drop the blazer down her arms. The tight white t-shirt settled against her frame as he watched the way that she pushed her brunette locks from her shoulders.

But his being felt incredibly taken by the way that she slowly moved—she wanted to savor every moment of this, he could tell that she was being critical, slow, and putting together each piece of herself in front of him.

That's what he thought at least, until he recognized that there was a tremble in her hand when she went to grab at the belt buckle, he barred. His hand flew to hers when she touched it; almost annoyed at himself by the look of terror that he was faced with as he knew that she had felt pushed away at that.

Instead, he pulled at her to stand up in front of him, between his legs. She did so with ease but a bit of confusion laid on her face as she stood with her hands by her side, Harry's eyes dancing along the figure—the divots in her thighs, the way the skirt just held to her so beautifully.

He let out a whimpering sound before he let his hand fall to the tightness of the front of his pants. Instantly, the pleasure trigger was pulled, and he knew what he had gotten himself into now had to be completed. It had to—he never did anything half-assed.

"Go put your heels on," He instructed her, watching as she stared at him willingly.

"A please would be nice." She tutted back, letting her lip fall into the curve of a smile.

Instantly, she knew that this wasn't a game anymore—this wasn't a fun, hushed little game of pleasure with nobody watching. She knew that the way that his eyes changed at the blink of an eye, the way that his jaw tightened at the statement: and the clear smirk on her lips faded.

"I'm not asking you," He sat up a bit, "I'm telling you."

Felicity had been used to being spoken as such; her memory fading into a moment, but her barriers kept up as she understood that her body was reacting only to the way that the words flowed from his mouth. She knew there was safety in his tone, she could see it by the way that he had stared at her with these stolen glances all night.

Instead, she followed his direction, moving back towards the door until she placed the black heels onto her feet again. They hurt just a bit from wearing them all day, she had to admit. But they made her stand taller, firmer against the fake wood flooring of her apartment. She wondered why the downstairs neighbors would think, as it became later at night.

"Come here," He told her, holding her wrist when she got close enough. He pulled her back to the place in front of him. She stood taller now, his nose practically at her bellybutton as she watched the way that he pulled her close.

Now, his hands lay on the outside of her hips, the sides of her thighs. She shuddered at the feeling, knowing that this was the first time she had been touched by him in such a manner. The musky scent of teakwood and spice drifted from the curls that settled against his forehead, she was sure of it. She could feel the heat of his breath just above where she needed him most as she stood close to him, right between his legs as he sat on the sofa.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this?" He practically choked on his words, quiet, "So fucking beautiful."

She breathed out a shaky breath, holding onto every ounce of madness that she had collected over the past few moments.

"How many?" She asked him. Harry stood up, letting her take a step back as she felt the prominence of him now-- how he was a bit taller, even with her heels on. Every part of her ached—so unfamiliar to her, this feeling of need and want. It was a sensation of desperation that she hadn't known before; her inner monologue was flooded with dangerous prose as she felt his fingers cradled onto her jaw.

"More times than I'd ever be able to count." He told her, his voice deep and sharp as he pushed his hips forward. She walked backward a few steps, he followed in her lead like a waltz before he pushed her pelvis into the wall, holding it there with his own.

"You're going to be my good girl tonight, aren't you, Felicity?" His words were practically a whimper as he let his lips slide along her own; the tremble of her quivering lips made him shake in his own anticipation. "You love to listen, hm? That's why you're always taking my orders and assisting me? Getting paid to do what I say?"

It was always obvious by the pink of her cheeks and the timid ways of her soul that Harry could see right through her. From the moment she arrived on the job to the way that she completed everything task with ease; every job, every plan he needed executed, she followed in righteous order.

It made him proud, to say the least. She ran the company better than he did most days, but she didn't get half the recognition.

Until now, surely.

Her eyes nearly roll back into her head at the foul play of his words; the way that his eyes follow down the path of her lips, his thumb mapping the path down her chin before he grabbed it between his thumb and index finger.

The villainous smirk on his lips can't be seen by how close they are now.

"Does saying 'Yes, Mr. Styles' make you wet, Miss Carter?"

The question rolled off his tongue as he watched her minuscule behaviors; the way that she practically shivered against the wall made his eyes move to the way that her knees bent in just a bit.

His mouth turned up to the side as he realized that his was right yet again.

Felicity groaned in the back of her throat as she let it tip against the wall. He was practically on top of her by the way that he stood, his knee was pushing her knees apart before she was able to protest any of it. Not that she would've; she knew that it was about to turn into an evening that she couldn't have truly imagined if you had asked her just hours before.

"You're getting shy on me, again?" He remarked, but this time, it was paired with some loose kisses along her neck as he used his hand to cradle her jaw enough that she was pressing into it with ease. "What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Felicity ached as she breathed—her body pressured against the wall was her own doing, practically to keep herself from overwhelming herself. If she leaned into him too much, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." She bit her lip at the words coming off her tongue.

She could feel that the instant gratification that came from him was filtered through the stare that he barred towards her; the way that his nose brushed against the lobe of her ear as he practically fell into her graces with three simple words.

Harry groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him then; her brain sparked a few times, trying to remember how it felt before this. How reality felt. This wasn't reality in the slightest; this was a dream.

"Tell me," He urges her, "What was his name?"

She lets her eyes wash over his face as she notices that his strength and need have put him into a trance of pleasure and further need.

"Who?" She questions.

"The guy," He lets his lip gently caress right between her chin and lip. "The guy you were supposed to see tonight."

Felicity remembered how the evening was supposed to go—her interest completely lost in that game, when this one seemed a bit more daring and fun. It felt that she was seen here; like she had been stared at for quite some time, ogled, maybe.

"Uh, S-Sam." She choked out as she felt the way that his hand pinched at the small of her waist, almost like he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.

He hummed softly before he tipped her head back, the simple press of his nose moving her head against the wall. "Fucking loser."

Her mouth instantly felt his—a righteous moment of complete satisfaction bundled beneath her. It was the first time that his lips had laid into hers, moving gently against one another as they fit perfectly in sync. It wasn't too rough—just enough to know that she was in the hands of someone who knew what she was asking just by the way that his body moved. He could read her body and react to the fact that her chest may have been pressed against the wall a bit too much, so he pulled back to give her room to breathe.

The way that they flew through her bedroom door was just as shocking to her as it was to him; it made a much larger noise than she anticipated as they practically flew over the threshold and into the creamy white sheets of her—thankfully—made bed.

He landed on top of her in the heat of the moment. Their lips stayed attached through it all, almost like they were making up for all the lost time over the years. His tongue gently caressed over her top lip, which elicited quite a whine of surprise from her.

Her hands flew to his necktie, trying to loosen it before Harry grabbed her wrist—hard enough that she barked out a whimper.

"No," He told her sharply, watching as she hesitated underneath him. Now her hair was feathered out against the bedspread, her light eyes were catching every glimpse of her. After a moment, he looked at her softly, knowing that she didn't understand the game that he was about to play.

"We are going to play by my rules tonight," He told her, watching as she pushed herself up towards the headboard. He followed her lead, letting her hands rest on the back of his head as she tried to kiss every inch down her neck. "And I have a few notes you need to take, got it?"

Felicity tried her best to stabilize her breath as she was given a moment away from their lips touching to catch it. She licked over her lips, feeling her heart pounding along her chest before she nodded against the bed and the linen comforter that laid underneath them.

Harry sat up, his hair a bit of a mess, the clothes on his body were practically ripped from the front where they had been neatly tucked. The growing need for her was obvious as he felt the tip of his cock struggling beneath the waistband of his belt. The friction made it quite hard to concentrate on what his plans had been, but he knew that he had to be firm with his requests.

"First," He instructed, "The safe word is poetry."

Felicity's eyes stared at him with quiet focus as she nodded a few times to try and understand that. She hadn't ever been with someone who needed to use a safe word in any sexual act, so she struggled to wrap her brain around what that could have possibly meant. But her actions continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around his biceps to try to bring him back to earth. The idea that he had to bring it up intrigued her.

"Second," He pulled at the necktie around his own before he loosened it enough to grab and throw off of his own neck. His hands moved to place it around her own, helping to move the hair from her neck so that it could rest comfortably around her own. "I like to use props. Are you okay with that?"

Felicity felt her heart beating steadily in her chest for a few seconds before she nodded her head. He watched the innocence completely take over her face as he smirked at the all-knowing tale of it.

"Third," He bit on his lip as he moved down to let their foreheads rest along each other, "I need to hear you—no nodding or shaking your head. Consent makes me feel good. And when I feel good," He kissed her once again, a quick one this time, before his voice quieted so that it was just between them. "You'll feel even better. Okay?"

Felicity breathed in a deep breath before she tried to use the voice that had been drifting away from her. She didn't feel in her body like an echo of a voice had started to take over instead of her words. But she let out a rasp of a word, "Okay."

Harry nodded a few times, knowing that with her eyes, he would be able to continue, but only if he was able to talk her through every part of it. He didn't know her experience level or what she was comfortable with, but he knew how to make pleasure the only thing that would be on her mind for weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last time he got the opportunity.

"This is—uh," She looked at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot for starting to speak before she shook her head, and watched Harry give her a look of confusion. "No, sorry. Nevermind."

"What is it?" He questioned, hoping that something he had said hadn't scared her away. She took in a breath as she thought about how the wording could anger him—maybe it would stop whatever was happening, which she didn't want to happen now that they were in the midst of it all.

"I—uh, I mean, like, are you okay with this?" She asked quietly before pushing up on her elbows. "I—do I have like, sign something?"

Harry raised in brows in a bit of a humorous way that only made her cheeks grow red with shame at her silly question—in all honesty, it wasn't silly, but Harry was giving her a hard time about it, anyway. He bit on his lip as he felt the smile that was threatening to overcome his entire face.

"Am I supposed to be worried that you're going to tell the Daily Mail that I have a huge cock?"

"Harry!" She covered her eyes, floating back onto the comforter, "Nevermind—maybe I'll tell them it's small, though, if you don't stop being mean. I'm just trying to protect you."

"Aw," He tutted, putting his thumb over her bottom lip, but his eyes had grown a bit darker—the way that they had been a bit earlier. It was almost an illicit reaction; the way that he spoke to her, was so filthy with each word spoken that made her melt into the bed. "Dare you to say that to my face when you're choking on it," He pressed his hips into hers then, knowing that she would react to it. Hers moved upwards into him, just as he had intended, "I'm not worried about an NDA in the slightest bit."

In a teasing manner, she scrunched her nose and playfully spat back, "What if I tried to steal all of your money?"

He pressed his hands next to her head on the bed, letting her eyes look directly into his as he spoke, hoping his voice didn't falter: "You can have it all. Take it."

Something about it should have made Felicity giggle—almost like they were joking around. But there was a way that his sincerity felt more like a proposition than a source to cut the tension of their achingly needing bodies against one another.

Her body seemed to enjoy the way that he stated the smooth words, as she let her hands fall into the brunette curls that settled on the back of his neck. It didn't take long for her to pull him closer, letting her lips graze over him in such a frustrating manner. She was completely built up, her could feel the way that her thighs trembled against him.

Pushing her legs open, Harry pushed the hem of her skirt up her hips so that he could find a home between them. In doing so, flashing the baby pink of her lace panties only let his blood flow faster and faster.

"I bet you've soaked those, hm?" He tuts, pressing his nose into her cheek ask he lets his hand knowingly move to the place he speaks of, knowing that he's right. Again. "Sam doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"

The teasing was becoming a bit too much for her—waiting for his fingers to move faster, she moved her hips a bit to try and get herself the pleasure she was trying to search so desperately for from him.

Harry notices the way that she tries to squirm, and he smirks at the reaction he's giving her; knowing that within every inch of her is building up a tension that will release. It will be like a dam that overflows—a satisfaction that will be so worthy of the cost of admission. He can't help but notice, can't help but watch her need.

He can't help but know that he's going to fuck her into an oblivion so dark, the stars will be lost in space. She doesn't know that yet.

Instead of being mean, he decides it might be better for him to give her what she needs—what she's been so kindly asking him for with her pretty hips and her pretty lips.

"On your knees," He tells her, watching as she moves underneath him. She wiggles around until she's on her stomach; the necktie gets him harder as he watches it dangle from her neck like the apple in Eden. Every part of him wants to take the bite—not yet, oh, not yet.

When she does this, her back arches upwards, and Harry's knees settle on the bed as he hovers above her and watches the way that she submits to him. Every word he says she listens—he can barely handle it anymore.

In an instant, his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, pushing it up to fully show the outline of her ass in the cheeky pink lace. It's always been known to him that she would wear something so pitifully scandalous under those black skirts, but he couldn't have imagined it would be like this.

Her pretty face has been folded into the creamy duvet, waiting for the touch of him to send her into an implosion.

All he wanted was to taste her—to make all of the thoughts he had prior feel like they were significant and they were able to be adhered to. He wanted to make her feel like she was the most special person on the planet; like she could feel every inch of him, and she would be thriving in that thought for the end of time.

This may be a one-time occurrence, and he wanted to marvel in it. He wanted her to enjoy what she didn't know could be.

Harry's hands pulled at the pink lace, wondering how lucky he was to be able to enjoy this sight—and what a sight. The wetness of her folds only made him salivate; made his hungry eye a darker shade of green before he dove his tongue directly into her, licking up the mess he had already made of her.

The soft whimpers turned into moans as she practically lurched forward—the initiation hardly bearable as she scrunched her eyes at the feeling of pleasure. The warmth and invite of his tongue pressed against her, lapping her up and into a pitiful puddle. When she felt the nudge of his finger, she gasped at the feeling of him; the duo of his tongue and finger sang together in harmony like a choir of angels.

"Oh, fuck," She quietly moaned out, holding herself on her elbows as she grabbed at her pillow for a bit of leverage. She felt him hum into her, his nose gently brushing against her as he pushed her ass up to get further towards her clit which hungered for his touch, as did his tongue.

The taste of her replenished him, making his heartbeat faster as he felt the stringent feeling of tightness along the dress pants that held him in. Without letting his tongue go without, he used his hand to swiftly throw the belt from the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and without another thought.

"Fuck, you taste like I thought you would. So fucking sweet." He stated, pushing her ass out of the way when he pulled back. He threw her down onto the bed so that she would be looking up at him. The girl was fully dressed still, just with her skirt pushed up—underwear a bit haphazardly thrown to the side. The rose-colored cheeks threw him as he used his hands to pull the skirt down her thighs.

"Get naked." He ordered, watching as Felicity's hands moved to throw the t-shirt from her body as he requested, leaving her in her panties and bra. Harry threw the white button-down of his from his chest; Felicity got a bit distracted by the way that the tattoos generously scattered over his body. She swallowed back her intimidation as she held herself up on her elbows.

In a swift motion, her panties and bra were thrown onto the ground, leaving her in just the necktie like Harry had ordered for her. She hadn't even quite noticed that he had been rid of his own clothes, her eyes wandering down but not wanting to stare as she noticed that the smirk on his face was ever present.

"Think it's still small?" He asked, with a chuckle as he pulled at her knees, moving her down towards him.

"Maybe smaller than I'm used to." She played back, biting her lip at the intrigue of how he'd react. His arms grabbed at her waist before he threw himself down onto the bed.

"Ride me, then. If you think you can take it as good as you say." His words spit out before Felicity could think too much. It had been a while she had been in this situation, with a guy in her place, at least. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, Harry nodding in appreciation for the gesture.

Her hunger and desire for this became a bit more active as she was now in the driver's seat, moving and manipulating her body to sit across his lap. If she would lie, she would say that it was smaller than average. But unfortunately, she was taught to always tell the truth.

It was much bigger—especially as he rubbed his hand down himself, a gasp of air baiting out of his lips before he looked up at her in a state that could only resemble pleasure.

Harry rolled the condom down his length, watching as she settled into his lap. Her legs settle on either side of him before he looks up at her. The blazing fuzziness of his mind from the liquor has started to cease and is replaced with a hunger of desire for the brunette instead.

"Pretty, pretty." He tells her, watching as she looks antsy enough to move, but he pulls her down to kiss her, anyways. It's a moment that he knows he's taking away from her, but he needs some form of interaction from her. A small detail of need that overcomes him.

His hands steady her hips above him, holding his cock up to her entrance before he watches her hips move down to encapsulate him all—her movements are slow as she throws her head back in an unsurmountable pleasure that she quite practically leans forward against him to catch herself from falling.

"Fuck," He grunts, shutting his eyes just at the way that the blood moves directly to his cock at the feeling of her wetness. She's completely drenched and open and ready which makes her so sensitive and barely capable of words at this point.

Her hands steady herself, holding onto his chest as he allows her to take the lead on what she needs. But he can tell from the look on her face that she's having quite a hard time collecting herself—almost like she's quite unsure of what to do with the power that he's given her to be on top. It's not him pitying her, but him wanting her to enjoy the experience.

So, maybe, in another life, this can happen again.

"Baby," He choked out, shaking his head at the way that he knew it was the wrong choice of words, "Felicity—let me," He grabbed the small of her waist as he sat up quickly. His arms pivoted them so that he could throw them back around on the bed. It wasn't to take anything away from her, but to give to her more than she was giving to herself.

"Let me do this, yeah?" He joked with her, letting his lips kiss along hers, biting and nipping and finding small ways of showing her that the softness of him was still there even in the darkened eyes and furious gasps.

His body readjusted, his hips pushing into her in a more fluid motion. This got her to gasp, a breathy one that he liked hearing—those were the ones that were out of pure pleasure and satisfaction; ones that he felt drunk on.

In a way, this felt a lot different than before. The overhead light of her bedroom was soft; there was a significant dimness to it. He wasn't sure if it was because the room was small, but it felt like there was a intimacy that he had been missing before. His eyes tilted upwards to the paintings and lines of movie quotes that lined along her bedroom wall. There were framed simply and held color and brightness to the space, which distracted him for only a moment before he was able to lay against her.

The necktie around her took his focus back.

"I'm going to play with you a bit, is that alright?" He asked her softly, biting at his lip before he found himself pressing into her hips. His hands grabbed at the necktie before letting them start to tighten it around her neck. " 'Member you words, hm?"

Felicity whimpered out at the coax; nodding her head, "Please—please."

Harry sat up at the request, happy that she was using her words in this sense. He readied himself; thinking of what he needed to think about to try to get himself to a different place. He didn't want to cum too quickly; his cock was barely holding on as it was. The friction of her sweet wetness was enough to make him fold again and again and again.

His fist moved to grip at the knot of the tie, pushing it upwards until it hit at her chin. She raised her head, almost to give way to the pressure that it held against her. She was only briefly capable of speaking a few words, but she was taken with pleasure at the way that her breathing was manipulated.

"Breath play," Harry practically reads her mind as his hip's diver deeper into her. The feeling of her legs at his ribs, practically around his body as he feels the back of her ankle into his back. "Your words, baby."

Felicity took a deep breath; Harry moved his hand so that she could take it in more. He wanted her to feel the wooziness, the daydream-like feeling of the high that it could bring her. He wanted this moment to be special, for her to remember that she was in the most requitting love affair. That she was taken care of, adored, seen.

At the end of the day, Harry wanted to make sure that her jaw was cradled, her lips were kissed, her eyes were stared into, and her breath was taken away.

His hips snapped further, her moan sounded like a small mew before he sat up a bit straighter, loosening his hand on the tie before he grabbed at both of her hips. His hand moved to maneuver over her clit, thumb drawing a star over top of it to which she squirmed in sensitivity. He smirked at the way that she held softly against him before he let a dribble of spit land directly on her, smearing the wetness to coat her.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He stated, the blown-out pupils of them both had them reeling—he noticed he had really neglected parts of her that he had wanted to remember, but he also knew that there was a significant need that they were both needing to fill. He knew that this was just inevitable fucking from weeks—months, really—of built-up tension that they both needed to get out of their system.

"I—I want more," She nodded, her voice quiet and barely above a mumble before their eyes made contact.

He felt that she was a bit, for lack of a better word, fucked. Her eyes were a bit droopy, she may have been trying to cover up how much she really drank, but her effervescent neediness was going to haunt him forever.

"I can give you more," He nodded, "I can give you so much fucking more." His hips snapped forward, again and again and again—her headboard hitting the wall every time he did so. Their breath heavy and their eyes connected as he did so.

"Such a pretty little fuck," He lifted her leg up from around his waist before he gave her knee a gentle kiss. "I'm so hard, fuck."

The fully natured nudity of their bodies was new for him—it was usually very quick, especially when they would come to his. But this was significantly more intimate; he wanted to spend this time with her. He liked that they decided to do it this way.

She could feel the tightening of the rubber band that was about to snap. It had been building with every swipe of his thumb, the way that his tongue had gently nudged at her clit; the way he had plunged forward with every deep thrust. She was impressed with the way that he moved her body to be able to hit at her spot every single time. He had studied her, watched what she did—how she reacted.

"I'm—fuck," He pulled himself forward, letting his head drop as he fell into her touch. This was new; her hands on his shoulders, the way that they moved into his hair and down his neck. "Poetry, okay?" He reminded her softly before he kissed her lips.

What happened after that could have been a blur—to Felicity, she wasn't entirely sure if she could remember it all. His hand gripped around the tie of her neck, pulling softly so she felt a dizzy sensation.

"Fuck—fuck, Harry, I'm cumming—fuck." Her teeth bit so sharply on her lip that she was afraid it might rupture the skin; the taste of blood would come soon afterwards, but her reality was set in the pleasure kingdom that Harry's hips created for her.

It was dizzying how he snapped his hips upwards, hitting her every single time. The pressure of his thumb over her clit sent her into an overdrive; letting her walls completely break, the dam overflowed, flooding. The orgasm over taking her sent him into a state of pure shock and adrenaline, snapping his hips a few more times before he felt the absolute relief.

Her eyes shut; Harry lurched forward as he fell into the grip of her hands. It was a feeling of falling that he genuinely believed were cloud-like.

For a moment, he wondered if they would ever slow their breathing down. He wondered if the sound of her heart beating against his was real-life or just a fantasy. It may have been an orgasmic-induced dream.

The puzzle piece form of the two of them let him settle nicely into her; his nose poked at the skin of her neck, which he may or may not have left a mark or two on.

In the solemness of the air, his breathing finally evened out.

___________

"Are we cleared for take-off, Mr. Styles?"

The noise jolts him a bit, he wouldn't lie.

Harry clears his throat as he opens his eyes which have been hidden by the sunglasses that have settled on his face. He readjusts in the seat before he looks around the small jet plane that had been chartered for their adventure.

It was early, approaching on seven in the morning. His sleep had been nonexistent until that small nap that he had gotten himself before being woken up by the pilot.

"Uh," He swallows, trying to make it seem that he was more awake than he was.

"I believe that we're all here." Laura states to the pilot before she gives him a tight smile. She returns to looking at her cellphone, lowering her hands into her lap as she continues to scroll through what's possibly an email.

Harry looks around the small jet, watching, searching... wondering.

He blinks a few times to try to imagine if there's a reality where what had occurred last night was working against him—he had hoped that she hadn't been scared off, that she hadn't run away at the idea of what this weekend could possibly hold.

Not that it was going to happen all the time, certainly not. But he wondered if there could be a next time—he wondered if she would have liked that. It turns out, with the no show to the work trip that she had been informed on that—

"I'm sorry."

The sweet tone of the voice carries through the plane before he turns his body in the single chair to look at where it had been coming from. Coming up the steps, being greeted by the stewardess, a smiling face that had her sunglasses pushed into her hair—a pair of black yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cardigan sweater overtop.

He watches as she takes her bag, feeling uncomfortable by the stewardess taking it from her before she gives her a tight smile and settles into walking towards the back. The plane isn't large, but it feels incredible big when he is waiting for her to approach him.

Their eyes meet and she gives him a tight smile before greeting the others on the plane. The seat directly in front of Harry isn't taken. Go figure. Her hands are full—holding her purse, a bag that most likely has something to eat for a breakfast, a coffee, and—

"Your dry-cleaning," Felicity handed the back to him before she took her seat that sat directly across from him in the small private jet that had seemingly felt much smaller as she took in how close he was to her now, "Mr. Styles."

The flicker of her eyes to his—the way that her hair had been blown dry, bouncing with curls, the freshness of her toned-down makeup to allow the texture of her skin to show with the subtlety of the glow.

Even in the early morning hours, even though he had just left her a few hours prior, even though they had both had less than a few good hours of sleep—she still looked like she was greeting him at heaven's pearly gates.

When the bag was unzipped to check that everything had been added, his eyes fell along the purple necktie that he had unnervingly left at the edge of her bed the night prior; he must had run out of the door of her apartment without it. His eyes glanced at the way that the small item drifted over the white button-down.

It was familiar, of course, because it had been the one that he was wearing yesterday when he had entered her apartment but left without it in his hands or around his neck. He cleared his throat at the sight, knowing that it was a nod to him and only him. When he sat them down across his lap, his eyes landed on her again—the casualty of her smirk was harrowing now.

"Mr. Styles, are we waiting on anyone else?" The pilot had come back towards the rows now, to ensure that everything would have been cleared for the take-off. Harry looked back at him, and shook his head without another doubt, but a solidly aching feeling in his chest as he barred the words back at him.

"No, I—I'm not waiting for anyone else, at least." He looked up at the girl in front of him, "I'm good."

The pilot got the plane ready for departure; Felicity stared at the window as she tried to take in the experience, knowing that the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her would be able to be given a final rest when she leaned against the window.

But, for the time being, she liked being able to rest in the light of Harry's stare as he couldn't take his eyes from her.

The plane, the job, the clothes, the dinner—none of it mattered when the view in front of him was something that money would never be able to buy.

____________________

hiiiii!!

happy tortured poets department day, here's a one-shot <3

just a little fun one hehe, almost 20k words is so much for me, so thank you for reading this!

love u as always

- emily

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nartothelar · 9 months

Note

But for the vampire au, have you considered Emmet getting Severely Hurt™️ and Ingo turning him to keep his brother alive?

Or do they have an agreement to just let things happen?

“No.” Emmet responds simply, decisively.

The answer is expected and yet, the disappointment Ingo feels is an unwelcome heaviness, his constant frown turning genuine without it meaning to.

Ingo had asked the very same question thrice times now.

Once was when they were kids. It was casual inquiry that came with little prompting; he had asked out of curiosity more than anything. Ingo had asked Emmet after they had defeated a trio of challengers off hand. Emmet had laughed, light and airy, when he answered. They had gotten ice cream using their winnings after.

The second time had been following a much more harrowing experience. A safety check forgotten, a simple mistake by a depot agent newly hired, had resulted in a derailed train. Fortunately only a few were injured. Unfortunately, one of those few was Emmet.

Ingo had asked him with bags under his eyes, something quite silly since Ingo didn’t even need to sleep. (Was that makeup? Emmet had joked with an exhausted smile.)

Emmet, laying in that hospital bed, IV's in his arm and a cask around his left leg, had responded much the same, a chuckle rather than a laugh. Perhaps his headache had come back to manage much more than that. Ingo didn’t attempt to change his mind and offered him the chicken noodle soup Elesa had brought for him.

And the third time was right now: Ingo sitting across from Emmet in the dining room of their shared apartment. It was morning and even though the windows curtains were drawn, the room was illuminated with a soft glow. In front of his brother was a plate of eggs and toast, him nursing a cup of black coffee. In front of Ingo was just a cup of tea, untouched and cooling.

“But why don’t you want to be a vampire?”

The way he asks shows his cards far to easily. Whoever had said Subway Boss Ingo was hard to read must have not tried at all.

His brother looks at him, assessing him, and then looks away.

Emmet is silent for a minute, simply gazing at the cup in front of him. His food was getting cold.

Most would think Emmet was being hesitant when answering, that this was a sign he didn’t want to answer at all. But Ingo knows him well. He knows he wants to go over what he will day and that he voices his thoughts properly.

Ingo is patient and waits. Finally, Emmet answers.

“I like the sun.” His brother says, looking at him. The color of his eyes haven’t dulled all these years. “It feels warm on my skin. It feels good.”

“I love eating. The taste, the action. Yup!" Emmet picks at his plate with a hum. "I want to eat what I like, when I like."

“I like my independence." Ingo's tea leaves an ashy taste as he sips it - a floral chamomile bag floats at the bottom of it. "I do not want to be dependent on others. I do not want to be dependent on things out of my control."

"I know that I will have to sometimes." Emmet really looks at him now. "And that is ok. But I still feel the same way.”

Ingo squeezes his mug, before he relaxes his grip. Emmet notices.

Emmet lays his palm on his chest, closing it into a fist near the middle.

“I like being human.” It sounds final, the words like a gavel to wood, the way it echoes in his mind. “I do not want to be a vampire.”

Ingo wants to argue. To convince him that the pros outweigh the insignificant cons, but he does not. No. Usually Ingo is more eloquent with his words, but the fear that rises up in his throat makes his usually well thought out words more brisk, more succinct, more honest as he says the obvious.

“But you are aging.” Ingo says. You are dying, Ingo tries, fails, and a refrains to add.

Ingo hands are smooth, his face without a wrinkle. He looks as the same as he as when he first became a subway boss. He has since he was sent to Hisui. Forever youthful. And Emmet.

Emmet's hands are calloused, wrinkled from years of maintenance at gear station. His hair is thinning and his temples were turning white. His stride not as brisk as it was years ago.

“I am.” Emmet replies. “And I will continue to age.”

Ingo knows Emmet. He is stubborn, just like himself. That is how he is. He knows he will not change his mind. And that makes him clench his jaw, look down at his cup with furrowed brow.

“Ingo.”

Ingo snaps his head up, fear turning to anger that makes him feel sick. He should not be angry, but he is.

“Then you plan to reach your final stop?” Emmet’s smile dims. Ingo continues anyway. “Leave this station?” Without me? Ingo clamps down before he utters the accusation.

“You....you will have me wait here for you to die? And do nothing?!”

And there it is. Ingo barring his greatest fear since he got turned. The thing that has plaguing his mind since he stood at the grave of his old clan leader in Hisui, at the cemetery where his other wardens were laid to rest. What he had realized as he saw time passes by, years of constant goodbyes and tearful farewells.

It was that, no matter how grand his ideals, the simple truth of the matter was that he was utterly powerless to the passage of time.

Ingo doesn't realize that he has stood up until he is already towering over Emmet's seated form. His fangs barred and he suspects his eyes are slits.

And despite that, Emmet looks calm. He looks...sad.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Ingo says softly, deflated as the anger leaves his body. To live on as those around him pass. To see enjoy his life without the people he cares most around him.

Ingo feels arms wrap around him and he wraps trembling arms around Emmet too, his head laying on his shoulder. They stay like that for a moment, simply holding each other, not letting go.

"I'm sorry I never gave you the choice." Emmet finally says. Ingo's hands grip at Emmet's shirt. "We were young. You were dying. And I was desperate. I did not want to lose you..."

Emmet pulls back after that, not all the way, but enough to look into Ingo's face. His fangs have retracted, his eyes normal again. "But those details do not matter now, do they?" Emmet sighs out, that sad smile still there.

"They matter. Of course they matter." Ingo protests, but he doesn't elaborate pass that.

Emmet looks at the floor, thinking about his words and looks at Ingo again before saying, "Everything reaches its final terminal."

"Not me." Ingo says. It comes out bitter.

"Everything does." Emmet repeats, shaking his head. He squeezes Ingo's forearm before he lets go. "I did not give you a choice. but you can choose for yourself now."

His brother’s crows feet, a result from decades worth of smiles, crinkle at the edges as he looks at him. "Just as I choose for myself."

Ingo dwells on those words, on what his brother is offering. A choice and a decision to make. Emmet looks at him and Ingo understands.

With a sigh (a concession, a compromise), Ingo nods and accepts Emmet's answer.

That heaviness Ingo feels is not fully gone from his mind, but it has lightened, the tension of the room dispersing like the morning fog.

Emmet notices, smiles, and sits back down to finish his breakfast. Ingo follows. And then the silence is filled anew with his brother's latest retelling of yet another dealing he had with a rude passenger yesterday.

Ingo listens and they both laugh and talk and all is right and as it should be that morning, in their shared moment of time.

Him and his brother were a two car train, always have been, no matter their differences. And no matter what, he was going to be there with him until his brother's final destination.

And then after that, once that engine has long gone cold, Ingo would decide when his last stop was too.

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ghostofthemost141 · 5 months

Text

Pretty Pt.3 (Finale)

Pt.1 Pt.2. Pt.3

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, No use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,263

Themes: Light Fluff, Light Angst

About: It is now all or nothing. You and Task Force 141 try the antidote that Alejandro and his refugee have made.

Notes: Thank you all for the love of this little series! Dolly is your name but Alejandro calls you estrella which means star in Spanish. Once again I am open to requests if you want something in particular! Enjoy!

Taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @httpjiikook @20rianwe

“Alejandro.” I called him, jumping out of the vehicle to approach him, “if I would’ve known this was you bringing us here, giving him a chance.”

“Of course, estrella. We are all family, especially in these hard times.” Alejandro told me, calling me by my chosen nickname by him.

I immediately jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. I am not usually the one to do that but I couldn’t help it. Alejandro chuckled and hugged me back, amused by my action.

“I’m sorry..I’m just..”

“No, you’re fine. Trust me I understand.” He reassured me as I pulled back from the hug.

“Rrrrrrrr…..Dolllyyyyy.” Simon growled from the back of the truck.

His hand was pressed up against the glass and his voice was drowned out as he stared at both Alejandro and I.

“He..recognizes you?” Alejandro asks.

“Yeah, and Johnny too. I am not sure if it’s his consciousness coming through his zombie state or what but I would consider it a good thing right?” I say.

“Yes, it is a very good thing. What are we waiting for then?” Alejandro announced, basically giving us the go ahead to get Simon to the right place.

“Where do you want us to head to?” Price asks.

“Follow me through the refugee. That’s where our sanctuary warehouse is where we managed to figure out the possible cure.” Alejandro told us.

I nodded as I jumped back into the back of the truck and Alejandro did the same. After some motion from Alejandro, Price put the vehicle out of park and started inching forward.

“Rrr..” Simon softly growled, his cloudy eyes looking up at me.

“We are almost there, Simon.” I pressed my hand up against the glass and he did the same as well.

God I hope this works.

I had to refrain from screaming as I realized that Simon’s shoulder bore a zombie bite. You can’t come back from those bites. You just can’t. At least when you get a bite in the hand you can cut the hand off to keep the bite from infecting you, but with a shoulder bite, it’s a death sentence.

“What is it, love?” Simon asked me, noticing my stares.

“Your..your shoulder.” I croaked out, feeling some tears fall down my face.

Simon eyed his shoulder, his eyes and his skin being drained of color.

“No..” Simon coldly said.

“Lieutenant..” Johnny called Simon, but he didn’t say anything back.

“I-AHH-AHHHHH!!”

Price nearly crashed as Simon started wailing and screaming out in pain. Shit!! Was he turning that quick?! No, no, no!

“Si, please listen to me!” I begged, trying to reach him, but he shoved me away.

I harshly landed on my back as the boys tried to surround him as I could hear Simon crying out in pain. It’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault-

“Simon!! STOP!!”

What? Why was Price yelling at Simon to stop? I turned to find Simon shoving Gaz off of him.

“Si.” I approached him but Simon immediately shuffled away from me.

“Stay away from me, Dolly.”

“I am not afraid of you, Simon.”

“You will be, when I turn.” Simon coldly told me.

“Simon, please!” I exclaimed, holding his face close to mine.

I could hear the effects of him changing already. His blue eyes were already changing color and his breathing was becoming ragged. In one swift movement, I grabbed the ends of his balaclava mask and pulled it off of his face. For once in my life, I was witnessing an emotion I have never seen the Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley display.

Fear.

He was scared, scared of what was going to happen next.

“I..I was trying to break my jaw. So I couldn’t bite you.” Simon croaked out.

I don’t think I have ever seen Simon so vulnerable before or this defeated before.

“They are close to a cure, Si. There are a lot of refugees, especially one up North that is close to finding a cure. We will bring you up there the second we get word of it.” I promised Simon.

Simon held both of my hands as his once pure azure eyes were fading to a cloudy misty color. Out of nowhere, Simon leaned down and retched onto the ground, black substance drooling out of his mouth.

“Si-”

“I love you, *urk* Dolly.” Simon told me.

“I love you too, Simon.” I said back.

“Grab me, please.” Simon told Gaz, Price, and Johnny.

I wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay, but I knew that would be a bad idea. The guys grabbed Simon and tied him up tightly. Simon grumbled incoherently in pain until he eventually passed out. I hope to God he doesn’t wake up.

…

..”Simon?”

“Please be gentle with him.” I say as the guys, with the right protective gear on, carefully helped Simon out of the incubator and out of the truck.

They had his arms and hands gently but tightly chained together, behind his back so he couldn’t scratch anyone and we kept his balaclava mask on so it wouldn’t be so easy to bite someone.

“Si, I’m right here.” I called him.

His cloudy eyes immediately looked my way and he tried to sprint towards me but both Alejandro and Price stopped him.

“Whoa, not so fast there big guy.” Alejandro jokes, getting a chuckle out of me, “you’ll get to your amar soon enough.”

“Rrrrrr…” Simon growled angrily.

I can tell he wasn’t happy about being held back but it is for my own safety. Even though Simon is still in there, there’s no chance he could control his actions.

“Simon, it’s okay. They are just trying to help.” I try to reassure him.

“You got the stuff, Rodolfo?” Alejandro called to him as he and Price held onto Simon as hard as they could, considering the height and muscle has over them.

“Got it.” Rodolfo announced as he approached Simon with a huge needle, absolutely filled to the brim with a clear white liquid.

As soon as Simon saw Rodolfo approach him, he immediately tried to sprint towards him, but was pulled back immediately due to Alejandro and Price.

“Hey, hey relax big guy.” Price sternly commanded Simon, which was not helping at all.

“Rrrrrr….no hurt Dolllyyy.”

Oh..Oh. He thinks Rodolfo is going to hurt me. Despite all of that, despite being sick, despite being infected, the thing he wants to do the most, he is still capable of doing it.

“Si, love.” I call him, reaching towards him.

“Back off from him, Dolly.” Johnny warned me.

I know he is doing it to protect me, like Simon wants him to do, but I know Simon. He is just scared.

“Johnny, please.” I sternly but calmly said to him.

I know he was mentally protesting with what I was doing, but he was allowing me to do it, but stayed close nearby. I walked step by step to Simon as he was intimidating growling at Rodolfo who, understandably, was backed far away from him.

“Simon.”

“Arrrrrr..”

“Si.”

“Rarrrrrrrr…”

“My amar.”

“Rah! Rah!!”

“Simon Riley!”

…

Dead silence was not what I was expecting next. The previous second, Simon was growling at Rodolfo, ready to eat his face off, and now Simon was silent, staring dead at me. His scratchy groans and breaths fill the room.

“Si, Si, Si.” I cooed to him as I pressed my hands against his cheeks, making sure my thumbs were touching his soft skin.

“Rrr…” Simon softly purred into my touch.

“You’re okay, Simon. You’re going to be okay.” I softly spoke to him, seeing Rodolfo slowly tip toe towards Simon.

Simon was absolutely smitten with me though and paying attention to only me.

“Dollllyyyyyy…..prettttyyyyy.”

“You think I’m pretty?” I ask, solely to keep him distracted.

“Yessssss…”

He’s closer now.

“You’re so handsome, Si.”

So close.

“You’re my everything.” I said.

Any word that came out of my mouth, Simon just simply purred in response to it.

“I just want to kiss you so badly.” I say.

Do it, Rodolfo, do it.

“Pretttyyyyy Dolllyyyyy..” Simon leaned in real close to me.

I eyed Rodolfo as he started hesitating. Do it, you son of a bitch, do it. Rodolfo took one giant step forward and-

“I’m sorry, Si.”

As soon as those words left my mouth, Rodolfo managed to stick the needle inside Simon’s neck, Simon immediately feeling the prick. Alejandro, Gaz, and Price held him down on the ground as Simon thrashed and screeched, as Rodolfo slowly emptied the serum into him. I felt a pair of arms wrap around me and pull me away from the scene.

“It’s okay, Dolly, it’s ‘lright.” Johnny’s voice came through.

“I know, I know.” I mumble, holding him back as a way to relieve the tension and guilt I was feeling. Simon was acting like an animal being put down. Just the noises and thrashing movements he was making was sickening to watch. I hated watching it. Just please work, please fucking work. I want my Simon Riley back. Eventually, Simon passed out and the boys were able to set him down gently.

“We are keeping him tied up. Just in case.” Gaz announced.

I nodded even though I was just praying it works. Alejandro mentioned it worked once for another person, but that doesn't mean it will work for Simon. It could’ve just been luck.

“In a minute, he should wake up as his normal self.” Rodolfo announces as we all surround him.

I wanted to bend down so he could wake up to my face, but Johnny held me back.

“Wait, Dolly.”

“Damn it.” I croaked, the tension killing me.

I saw his fingers twitch. It’s now or never. He is either going to come back as human or still a zombie. Fate is not on our side right now, just luck at this point.

“Rrr..”

A soft low growl came from Simon’s mouth, but it sounded clearer. I’m not getting my hopes up but by God I wanted him back so badly.

“Simon?”

“Rrrrr…”

Oh no. No, no, no, please, please, please, please, please God no, please, please, please-

“Rrr…Sh-shit.”

I have never thought I would be so happy to hear Simon curse.

“Simon?” I call him.

“W-What?” Simon grunted as he tried to regain his composure but quickly realized he was tied up.

He frantically started thrashing around, trying to get out of the chains.

“Whoa, whoa there Ghost!” Price yelled at him to stop.

Simon locked eyes with Price, immediately recognizing him.

“Captain?”

“Yeah it’s me you bloody bastard.” Price confirmed as he started removing the chains from Simon’s arms and hands.

Once removed, Simon clutched his wrists, probably sore from the previous resenting and thrashing around. I wanted to just run up to him and jump into his arms but I wanted to give him his space.

“I..I..” Simon tried to speak, but he couldn’t muster the words to say.

“Just chill, Ghost. Relax, my friend.” Johnny told him.

“Erk..Johnny?” Simon turned his head towards Johnny.

“Who else could it be, eh?” Johnny smirked, being his typical smuggy self.

I laughed and rolled my eyes at him.

“Dolly?”

Simon’s voice called to me. I turned and locked eye contact with him. His once blue azure eyes, now back to normal, now full of life again.

“Yes?”

“You’re alive.”

I’m not offended that he said that, because he knows that I am basically lost without him.

“Indeed I am.” I said, not being able to contain myself anymore.

I ran up to Simon, jumping into his arms, nearly dogpiling him. Simon immediately held me tightly, so tightly, that his muscles could suffocate me. I didn’t care though. He was back. My Simon was back. His normal husky, accented voice, his woodsy natural body smell, his blue galaxy filled eyes. It’s all back. He is back. I didn’t even realize I was crying at first until his shirt was soaked up with it.

“Oh bloody hell, love, you are snotting all over my shirt.” Simon commented.

I laughed in response as he rose up, making us sit upright. I held him tightly, afraid he would disappear if I let go. Simon pulled my head out of his shoulder, holding my face with his big but soft hands. He pulled his mask up just enough for me to see his beautiful face. Despite being kept in an incubator for months, he looked as if he never changed. Except for one slight difference.

“You got some facial hair there.” I brushed my fingers on his chin, feeling the slight, blonde facial hair.

Simon flinched, knowing damn well that he is ticklish secretly.

“You’re embarrassing me, Dolly.” Simon joked, making everyone laugh.

“It’s good to have you back, hermano.” Alejandro announced, with everyone agreeing.

Simon then placed his soft lips onto mine. Despite being locked up for months, his lips were still as soft as ever and not chapped at all. I kissed back, feeling love wash all over my body. Simon pulled away, my fingers running through his blonde hair and our foreheads touching. Nothing could separate us now.

“I love you, Mr. Riley.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Riley.”

END

#simon ghost riley #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #callofduty #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghostofthemost141

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whyyougottadothatbro · 10 months

Text

and these stars, are nothing but your cousins...

Genre: fluffy little scenario I wrote cause I miss him so much and I hope he's doing as well as he can

Bf! Bangchan x female! Reader, established relationship

Song recommendation: 🎶

a/n: I've been unhealthily obsessed with this song for a good over 8 months and listened to it mostly while writing this fic, 10/10 would recommend

Wc: 1.5k ~, probably proofread?

“chann~~~” y/n lets out in her sing-songy voice as she calls out to her lover who’s legs are sprawled upon her thighs as she gently massages his feet, rigorous weeks of performances and endless hours of dance practice making his flatfeet hurt to the point that just walking seemed like it would require all the remaining strength in his body. The feeling of his lover’s tiny hands that he adores so much, especially when they are entrapped in his own, feel so relieving against the soles of his feet he sighs in relief and almost misses her calling out to him, but he refrains himself from losing focus.

His focus shifts back to where he was massaging the back of his lover’s neck and her shoulders, releasing the knots she’s gotten from her desk job. Chan relaxes against the bed’s headboard with y/n sat between his legs, massaging the feet that landed on top of her thighs when chan wrapped his legs around her waist. They both relish in the touch of the other, silent grunts leaving them as their tangle of limbs begin to limp slowly yet surely, but chan breaks out of his trance, remembering to answer back from behind her with a hum of acknowledgment urging her to continue.

“I was thinking~” y/n’s voice hasn’t lost its tone from earlier when she is suddenly interrupted by her boyfriend who’s ministrations stop temporarily as his hands drop down to her waist to pull her flush against him as he poses a question before she can continue,

“are you just thinking or are you thinking~ ?” chan lays emphasis on the last word. He’s repeating it in the exact same tone as hers from earlier and some sub-conscious part in the back of her head feels astonished over his musical talent in the most mundane of situations. She shifts her focus back to the situation at hand as she chuckles, turning her head back to look up at him in amusement, ‘what is that even supposed to mean?’

“well..” chan elongates the last syllable, ‘when you’re just thinking, its everyday stuff usually, you’re thinking about when to do the next grocery run, you could be thinking about going back to pilates, what you want to order for our next takeout night, you could be thinking of a purchase you need to make, a gift you want to buy, a call you need to make, electricity bills you know just everything normal, everyday stuff..” chan’s voice trails off as he detaches your hands from his feet and brings them into his, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand in silent appreciation for you.

“and what happens when I’m thinking?” y/n asks him, still a bit amazed about how her boyfriend had different interpretations of her saying the same thing, just with a slight change of tone.

‘when you’re thinking~” chan hasn’t let go of the exact same tone from before as he continues, “it can mean anything from a new hair color you want either of us to try or booking the both of us an impromptu trip to Hawaii without any money in your pocket. Its basically a wild card.”

The evening sun casts its pink-orange glow onto the couple wrapped up in each other’s arms, y/n finding her lover astoundingly beautiful under the hues cascading through their large windows. Her hands move up to his face, thumbs gently tracing his jaw, eyes not focused at anything in particular but still looking at what she believed to be the sum of all the love that the universe had planned to give her, packed and summed up into the man whose warm hold feels like her personal shield. y/n believes that even though the both of them have lives filled with people that carry so much love and joy in their hearts, its in the hearts of each other that they were made to find solace in. If soulmates existed and love was true, the light freckles under her lover’s eyes wrote love on his face in a language only they both could understand, a language that lived as long as they did, and would vanish into the void silently, peacefully with them.

“you’re zoning out on me again, pretty” chan’s soft reprimand brings her out of her trance. She shakes her head a little bit, as if physically shaking herself out of the floaty comforting headspace chan’s presence puts her in often. ‘want to tell me what you were thinking~ about, now?’

‘well you’re going to Japan next month, right?’ y/n asks, coming down slowly still,

‘I do, I wish I could take you along though’ chan’s words drift off into a small pout towards the end, pressing a kiss to his lover’s forehead. Parting from her made him sad and pouty to no end, but chan was quick to learn that y/n would always kiss his pouts away as a rule, almost. But it wasn’t chan if he admitted to using it against her to get more kisses, it was his own secret.

‘coming back to earlier, so, I was thinking~ what if…’ y/n trails off again, slowly noticing chan’s patience wearing off and watching him grow more agitated and it gave her the time of her life. y/n had a general struggle of keeping conversations quick and to the point, but maybe she did use it against chan because watching him grow agitated and whiny was amusing to no end, it was her own secret.

‘what if we get you a bigger carrier, your old one’s a bit wobbly no?’ y/n asks in all seriousness face now resting on his shoulder, and chan chuckles again,

‘is that what you were thinking all this while? And this one’s okay baby I don’t think I need a bigger one?’ chan has no idea again as to where y/n could be going with this but he goes along.

‘no because you see.. if we, if we get you a bigger carrier, maybe its going to make it easier to..’

‘to what, baby girl?’ chan asks again, voice softer, cooing at her almost

‘well its going to make it easier to carry all our stuff at one place because I might have got Changbin and Minho to convince your staff to bring me along and maybe let us stay for 2 more days after because its our anniversary?’ y/n says all that in a single breath and huffs out, eyes expectant and waiting for a response as nervousness pools in them.

‘no way..’ chan whispers to y/n, not wanting to say it too loud in case it was a dream and it would all go away if he was too careless talking about it. Chan’s still not believing it, even after y/n enthusiastically nodding at him, kissing his full lips again to make him believe that she was indeed coming along with him. He slaps himself mentally, both to wake himself up and also for not thinking about it earlier. Mischief pokes its head around chan’s brain again, because how did she come up with it before he could.

“and.. what if I said no? what would you do then? It is dangerous to do it, you know it too princess” her face falls almost entirely at his words and chan’s heart hurts seeing her reaction, but he’s perplexed when her face lights up again,

‘then I’ll just, I’ll just sit in your carrier, because there’s no way I pulled the amount of strings I did to just not do it.’ Chan splutters with laughter again, chest vibrating and body shaking at the memory of his dog doing the same to him every time he has to come back from home in Australia, and the visual of his girlfriend sitting with her legs folded in his carrier, doe eyes looking up at him with silent pleas, refuses to leave his head as he laughs more, squeezing her harder in his arms.

‘oh so you’re learning from berry now?’ chan asks as he wipes tears away from the corner of his eyes, stomach hurting from laughing that hard. y/n’s seriousness almost throws him in a laughing fit again but he refrains, a chuckle escaping him every now and then, awaiting an answer.

‘I can’t deny she has good tricks up her paws’ chan finally lets his second laughing fit escape him, wheezing at her words all over again.

‘you know what else berry is good at?’ chan asks as he slowly recovers, mischief now completely coming out to the forefront of his brain,

‘what is it?’

‘kisses, berry gives me sooo many kisses, you’ve barely given me any you know?’ chan pouts in fake annoyance again, crossed fingers hopeful that he gets what he wants,

‘oh you’re in for it bahng’ y/n says as she pushes him down onto the bed with her hands firm on his shoulder. She lies flat on top of him, aggressively kissing the entire expanse of his face. 'Finally' Chris thinks to himself, hands holding y/n down on top of him, pillowy lips against her, as evening faded into the night from their bedroom window, thankful to the stars twinkling outside, probably smiling down at them too.

a/n pt. 2 : i hope you guys enjoy this, i know I'm not the most consistently posting writer on here but I really appreciate the support I get on my posts. Thankyou so much!

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robertdowneyjjr · 6 months

Note

hey, so. funny thing.

@whinysteve and i have been going insane for like two days because we couldn't find this one fic we really liked, and we both remembered reading it not so long ago but somehow neither of us could recall how it ended? and we kept saying that it's so GOOD and how the heck did it just disappear? well, after hours of losing my mind going through my ao3 history, the steve/tony tag with various keywords, the findingstony blog... it. it hit me that i can't find it because it doesn't exist. because it was the soulmates au idea you posted like two weeks ago where their words only show up after they've met their soulmate.

i thought you might find this amusing. 😩 (i do, but i also need to lie down for a bit because i will never know how steve fixed that mess)

hahahaha omg liv if this is your way of peer pressuring me into writing the whole fic i might actually do it??? because your ask has got me thinking about what would happen next.

that said, steve still hasn't figured out how to fix this mess. i'm very sorry about this.

(stonyclunks soulmates au part one here)

---

having been rescued by SHIELD, news of steve's recovery was immediately delivered to howard stark who, while not as involved with SHIELD as he used to be, still receives weekly reports as one of its co-founders.

he'd gone home that night and brought it up in the middle of cutting his steak. coincidentally, tony had been visiting that day and stayed for dinner, so he found out about captain america's miraculous resurrection before the general public did, and honestly, he had enough of hearing about how great this guy was growing up. he really didn't need to keep hearing about it as an adult after he'd finally worked through his issues with his dad and his obsession with a (not quite) dead war hero.

so after howard's announcement, tony politely requested howard refrain from talking about this guy with him.

"i know he's your friend, and you'll probably be spending a bit of time with him now that he's been found, and i'm really happy for you, but i think it would be better for our relationship if we could talk about literally anything but him," he'd said.

and, well. howard was trying. he knew he wasn't the best dad and he also wanted to do right by maria, who spent so many years torn between her son and her husband while trying to mend their relationship. they were finally in a relatively good place with each other which made maria happy. and to be frank, howard had actually come to really enjoy tony's company whenever he was home. he was quite happy too. so he agreed. they don't talk about steve and howard doesn't ask tony to meet steve.

that very night, tony made sure 'captain america' and 'steve rogers' were muted in all his news feeds and social channels.

he literally doesn't know a single thing about the man besides what he learned in his childhood, which he's blocked out. it's a peaceful two years of blissful ignorance.

fast forward to now, tony's packing up his suitcase and getting ready to check out of his hotel when he sees a text from his mom in their family group chat.

seems he's not quite the perfect role model you always made him out to be, howard 🤡, her message reads.

what follows is a link to an instagram post, and from the message preview he can see that it's steve rogers' profile, and under normal circumstances he wouldn't even bother clicking the link.

but 1) maria usually never brings up the man in tony's presence either, and 2) her comment made him laugh. so color tony intrigued.

he taps the link and sees the post. it's a picture of a coffee cup from the place he was at a week ago. the one where he got body slammed by his mysterious dick of a soulmate and unfairly yelled at for it.

he reads the caption and his legs give out under him.

i don't even know if you'll see this, but all i can do is hope. i'm sorry for the words that have made their mark on you. i know i don't deserve it, but i'm hoping you could give me a second chance. i won't yell at you this time, i promise. yours, a fucking asshole

one week ago, captain america was barely even a blip on tony's radar and that's how he preferred it. now, steve rogers is tony's mysterious dick of a soulmate.

what the fuck even is his life.

#they have a lot to work through!! but they'll get there #also i'm determined to write good dad howard at least once in my life #i think tony deserves it in an au at the very least #anyway howard texts steve and he's like 'my wife thinks you're a dramatic bitch'#'good luck with whatever mess you've got yourself in lol drinks next week?'#steve who still hasn't received any DMs from his soulmate a week later follows howard home like a lost puppy #because he's sad and just wants to whine a bit longer #guess who they see getting out of the car with maria after a night at the opera 😃#stevetony #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #stonyclunks soulmates au #kay writes things #soliloquent-stark #ask

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mastermindmiko · 6 months

Text

Ghost Love

Pairing: Regulus Black + Potter!reader

Word count: 1783

Summary: You have the ability to talk and see ghosts

Warnings: angst, age gap but not really, kissing

Part 2

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

an: this was inspired by someone here on tumblr who is called or used to be called vampirestookmydoubts, but I really couldn't find the account to tag them, so if anyone does know what happened to their account lmk please!

“It’s completely insane! He still does it, does he not get bored?” Regulus asked you as you both looked at Professor Slughorn. He was once again drunk in one of his Slug Club dinners. This was the last dinner before the Christmas party and Christmas break.

You shook your head at the drunk teacher with a small chuckle. You didn’t turn to look at Regulus knowing that it would make your look weird, “Yeah. He did that too? You know, when you were well-” You trailed off, always so cautious not to mention death to any of them. Some were sensitive but others didn’t quite care like Regulus, “So what I died? Can’t change that now, can I?” He would always say that.

He rolled his eyes “I don’t care by the way so what I-” He started saying his usual phrase but you rolled your eyes and continued to say the sentence with him “Died? Can’t change that now,-” He raised his eyebrows looking at you when you both spoke in unison. “... Can I?”

“You say that a lot.” You say finally looking at him with a smirk. Your heart fluttered when you did.

“As you so graciously care to remind me. Not all of us cry when you mention that we died. Not like Fred who balled his eyes out-” He rolled his eyes.

“... now, now. Reggie. Just because you didn’t have someone to cry over you doesn’t mean you should go all salty on us.” Fred said, going through the wall towards you.

“Fred you’re back!” You said with a smile that he returned. “So tell me all the updates.” You added and you refrained from trying to hug him. You embarrassed yourself by trying to do that on several occasions before and you had to endure other people’s laughter when you went through air. Fred started to tell you about George and the rest of his family. You had intended to switch the subject quickly knowing that Fred dying wasn’t the thing that affected him but rather what his death caused for his family.

You shot Regulus a glare while he just shrugged. You listened to Fred intently as he talked about George and the rest of his family. Your family as well. You laughed at how your uncle Ron still gets mad at Harry when he kisses Ginny. It was a gift you had, no one knew about it except for your ghost friends. You had the ability to see Ghosts, only specific ones of course; the ones who chose for you to see them or just the ones that are there -it depends-.

You first saw Fred at Christmas six years ago, you screamed and shouted at seeing the man you saw in many family photos; in full color, going through a wall and sitting casually beside his twin. When your mom -Ginny- calmed you down and put you to bed, Fred came in to check on you -as he would with any normal family member- and then you talked to him. He was the first ghost you have seen.

The ghost you spent most time with is Regulus. He was your best friend despite the major difference. As you talked animatedly to Fred, he watched you fondly. He saw a girl looking at you weirdly because of the ‘air talking’. So he walked near her and made her punch fall on the floor, so he can grab her attention away from you. He knew how badly you took the ghost thing, you were happy so happy about it. However when you came to Hogwarts people noticed your weird actions and made fun of you for it. He made sure it didn’t happen again.

The party was loud and crowded so he wasn’t worried that someone might notice you, but every so often someone would look at you and scoff or laugh; and he made sure to take care of that. He watched you cry so hard and his heart clenched each time.

His thoughts came back to why he even had to do that in the first place. He was happy for you, you could speak to all your dead relatives and get to know them; but it was so hard for him. At first he watched you from afar curious by why you would do certain things, but as you grew older he started to gain feelings. You were 16 and he was 18. It wasn’t that big of a difference. -excluding the obvious over 55 year age gap-

His heart hurt and when you laughed at something that Fred said, his heart gained a burning feeling. He fumed at how absurd this is and he left the party for the nearest wall. Fred was a ghost, he was a ghost, there’s no way for either of them to be with you so why was he acting like this. Even so Fred owned a joke shop, he made people laugh for a living. So, why was he acting like this?

He sat down in the astronomy tower, he didn’t notice how far his feet took him with his thoughts on the run. He sat on the floor and rubbed his face with both his palms, sighing deeply. Wasn’t there supposed to be no hurt after death? Then what was he feeling?

Reuniting with his brother was the only good thing he could seem to come up with from being a ghost. Meeting you could’ve been the highlight of his entire being but why did it have to be under these circumstances?

“I thought you’d be here.” You said standing a couple feet away from him. Regulus always chose to walk instead of float like other ghosts do. James and Fred always floated so they could twirl and flip in the air as much as they pleased.

The ghosts always appeared in full color to you unlike ghosts who were visible to everyone like Sir Nicholas who was between black and white or transparent. Sometimes you would see him and your heart would soar seeing him real in front of you but then you’d remember and your heart would plummet going straight to the core of the earth.

“It’s a shame I told you.” He refused to look at you. You pressed your lights together tightly as you bound your hands together and you sat beside him. “Well it’s a shame you told me then.”

You looked at his side profile. Merlin! Everything about him is perfect, you thought. Especially with the moonlight illuminating his sharp features and his grey eyes reflecting the stars. It made it look like he had stars in his eyes. Feeling a restricting feeling in your chest you looked away and let out a small chuckle “You made it so dramatic too.”

You switched your voice in a poor imitation of his in a much deeper tone and mimicked, “I used to come here almost every night just to look the stars and think”

You laughed and he matched you shaking his head fondly at you. “You always use that big brain of yours too much.” You smiled at the end of your sentence.

“Why’d you leave?” you asked meekly. Most of your questions resulted in deep conversations with him, it seemed as if the more you got to know him, the more there was to learn about him.

He sighed and he shrugged his shoulders. “Hands.” Regulus ordered, and you obeyed. You turned your entire body to him and you placed both your hands -face down- in front of you. You crossed your feet under you and he did the same. He repeated your action and he placed both his hands on top of yours. He sucked in a deep breath and moved his hands from the top of your hands to the bottom. He watched as his hands went through yours.

He repeated the action for as long as it took for the message to sink in. He created this thing as a cruel reminder to what is real and what isn’t, for what could happen and what couldn’t. It was a cruel that he couldn’t be with you. He did it whenever he felt his heart give him hope because the heart will come up with whatever it wants just so it can numb it’s pain.

In his head, inevitably you will fall in love with someone and he’ll have to watch so why not just get over his feelings now. He pulled his hands away from yours and rested them on his lap. His heart now hurts but at least it now can’t fog up his mind with false hope. The universe always gave him the bad cards, he thought all the bad events that could’ve happened, happened because he died. However there were two cards that he still hadn’t been dealt yet when he died; a good one, you and a bad one, that he can’t be with you.

“I still don’t get why you do that.” you commented eyebrows furrowed as you put down your hands. Whenever you asked he would just say ‘70s’ thing and you would roll your eyes and let it slide. This time felt different though as if he was trying to break himself, and you knew you wouldn’t get an answer.

“WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING DOWN HERE WHEN THE PARTY IS DOWN THERE?” James said as he barged into the astronomy tower, Sirius and Remus following behind. Sirius ruffled regulus’ brother and you waved hello to all of them.

“What are you doing up here?” Remus asked. You had bonded with the former werewolf by opening books for him. While he could create small gusts of wind he couldn’t change anything major like opening a book though you wouldn’t consider opening a book a major thing.

“Snogging of course.” Sirius said, as he fake tutted. I wish, you thought. You laughed at his suggestion, but James went to Regulus and pinched his cheeks. “Of course not, they’re just babies.” Regulus swatted his hands away. As if James would let you come near a 20 foot radius from any guy when you’re his granddaughter.

You let out something between a scoff and a chuckle as you said “Babies my ass.” Remus shook his head and said “Language!”

You stood up trying to be at the same height as him but you failed miserably and you said “As if I didn’t learn all my swear words from you.” Remus opened his mouth before he could protest, Sirius placed his lips on his and said “She’s right, moony.”

Regulus grimaced at his brother kissing another person as any sibling would and James said “Oh! look and prude too!”

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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝟐 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

« Devotional 1 [ PAIRING ] DIO x f!reader x Hol Horse [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Dio using his fangs to pull corks out of wine bottles comes from this. Also I kinda amped up the silliness which I apologize for. I couldn't help it. Drunk!DIO is just too much fun to indulge in. [ SYNOPSIS ] The return of Hol Horse. [ WORD COUNT ] 4.3k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, POV switching, alcohol, dubcon (power imbalance, everyone's drunk), threesome (mmf), nipple play, oral sex (m + f receiving), anal sex (m receiving), voyeurism, sadomasochism, handjob, gun play, objectification, degradation (Dio gets degraded), some D/s elements, biting, marking, pet names (pet, darlin', sweetheart), orgasm control, impact play, not beta read.

You hadn’t thought much about Hol Horse since your previous tryst. While it was exciting and memorable, you occupied yourself with other things. You didn’t want to get attached to the hitman. Loving Dio was bad enough. Why let another reprehensible man into your life? You didn’t need to shoulder that weight.

You found that tending to the mansion’s lush gardens was a worthy task, one that filled you with pride. Your favorite time to garden was in the evening, when the sun wasn’t as cruel. You enjoyed the pinkish-orange hue that overtook the sky as the gloaming inched closer. Everything looked that much more beautiful when bathed in a blushing glow. You felt safe, at ease, like nothing could go wrong if your hands were plunged in rich, fertile soil.

That’s why it was such a shock to hear Pet Shop’s foreboding shriek as you deadheaded some carmine-colored poppies. You dropped your shears and looked around, seeing no one.

“Call off that damn bird!” You heard a familiar voice yell.

You finally spotted the panicked hawk, swooping around menacingly. You hoped he had refrained from bombarding Hol Horse with icicles.

“The fuck is he doing here?” You asked.

You stumbled to your feet and tried to make yourself visible, attempting to wave Pet Shop down like he was a vicious airplane.

“It’s fine!” You shouted, suddenly feeling foolish. “Can he even understand me?” You wondered out loud. “I mean, he seems pretty smart…”

You shook your head and decided not to think too hard about it. The sudden absence of Pet Shop’s shrill cries of alarm was enough to quell your nerves.

“One second,” you said as you struggled to open the gate, a task you had never attempted yourself.

“Take your time, darlin’.”

After about a minute of struggling you finally managed to get the gate open.

“Sorry,” you panted, wiping the sweat from your brow. “Usually someone else does that.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Hol Horse said kindly.

His gaze was full of dreamy longing. You wondered if he looked at his numerous girlfriends this way.

“So… Can I… help you? Do you need something?”

He adjusted his hat and shook the starry-eyed look off his face.

“Lord Dio asked me to come. He said it’s important.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Important?”

You knew Hol Horse wasn’t here on “business” so to speak. Whether he knew that or not was another thing, but you were quick to catch onto Dio’s will. The vampire tried to be as opaque as possible with his true desires, only revealing information when he felt it was beneficial. But the more time you spent around him, the easier he was to read.

“His words, not mine.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “I’m sure he’s lurking around somewhere.”

You led Hol Horse into the mansion and set out to find Dio. You vaguely recalled him mentioning that he’d be in his study if you needed him. Most of the search was spent in silence, excluding your annoyed sighs when you’d fail to find your lover. There was no hint of him in the study and no one else in the mansion seemed to have kept tabs on him.

“This happens,” you muttered, wandering through the art gallery. “I’m sorry this has become such an ordeal.”

“It’s no trouble at all. To be honest I’d be perfectly happy if we never find him.”

You turned around and looked at Hol Horse with disgust.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I—C’mon, sweetheart, you think I wanna be here?” He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be leaving this place alive.”

“Don’t be fucking dramatic.”

You strode into the chapel and scanned the room, seeing nothing.

“I’m not being dramatic. You gotta know what he’s capable of.”

“I know,” you moaned. “I’m aware and I don’t care.”

Hol Horse was aghast. “Well I do! My head’s on the chopping block, not yours.” He took a hit off his cigarette and flicked the ash to the floor.

“He’s not going to kill you for fuck’s sake. I’m pretty sure he wants you to top him.”

“What the hell does that mean? Top him? He wan—” Hol Horse paused, seemingly realizing what you meant. “Oh, you’re kiddin’ me.”

You walked by the lectern and noticed an empty bottle of wine leaning against the foot of it. Dio must have been in here at some point.

“That can’t be it.”

You ignored the hitman’s panicked realization, instead focusing on the faint groaning and labored breathing emanating from the altar. You spotted another bottle of wine, this one half-full.

“I’d rather have him kill me, if that’s the case.”

“I think I heard something.”

You crept closer to the altar, looking around the large, ornate table it sat on. You glanced underneath and saw nothing but darkness.

“Never mind,” you sighed, walking away. “He might be—WHAT THE FUCK?!”

You stared down and saw a pale hand wrapped around your ankle, cold fingers digging into your flesh. Instinctively you stomped on it. Hol Horse ran to your side, drawing Emperor and aiming at the hand now feebly clutching your leg. You heard what you could only describe as a pathetic hiss.

“Dio?”

“How could you do this to me? After I, Dio, have done so much for you.”

“Are you crying?” You asked, squatting down to get a better look at the tragic heap at your feet.

“No!” He barked.

Hol Horse withdrew his stand and took a few steps back. He took a final drag off his cigarette and let the butt fall to the floor. He crushed the smoldering cherry with his heel.

“Did I hurt you?” You cooed, rubbing his cold hand.

“Maybe.”

Dio was a mess. His blonde hair hung in his face, cascading down his shoulders. The whites of his eyes were red rimmed and kohl smudged. All he had on were a pair of chartreuse silk shorts that barely covered his ass and a turquoise knit sock on his left foot for some inexplicable reason.

You stroked his chilled face, trying not to reveal the pity you felt for him.

“I’m sorry.”

He grumbled something indecipherable.

“… Uh. Hol Horse is here.”

Dio’s eyes briefly widened before he recomposed himself. He stood up with no problems. But swayed a little once on his feet, like a skyscraper drifting on a windy day.

“Hol Horse,” he bellowed.

Hol Horse straightened his posture, a minor attempt at looking more robust. “Yes, Lord Dio. You said you needed to see me.”

Dio shifted his gaze to you.

“Did I say that?” The vampire hissed under his breath.

Dio’s eyebrows were furrowed, ripe with frustration. You could have sworn he was pouting, a common occurrence when he’d get drunk alone.

“I asked you a question, pet.”

“I never heard you say that.”

The three of you stood in silence, the only sound emanating from a ticking clock. Hol Horse’s anxiety sucked the air out of the room regardless of his brave facade. Dio held his palm to his forehead. He looked like a postmodern version of a Rodin statue.

“I remember now,” he said quietly. “Hol Horse, I need you—”

“You what?” Hol Horse blurted out.

Dio dropped his hand and glared at the hitman.

“Don’t speak out of turn,” Dio slurred. “I need you to…. Ugh.” The vampire groaned in frustration. “I need you to…”

You rubbed Dio’s back while he tried to find his words.

“Why don’t we have him come back another time?” You said softly.

“Tch. No,” the vampire growled. His gaze darted around the floor, sighing in relief when he saw the half-full bottle of wine. “He came all this way.”

“I’m actually not staying too far from here—”

“Quiet!” Dio snatched the bottle of wine off the floor. “We’re going to make it worth his while.”

“C—could y’all not talk about me like I’m not in the room?” Hol Horse laughed.

“My apologies,” Dio said, eyeing the label of the wine bottle. “You should stay though. Have some wine.” He handed the bottle to the hitman. “It’s a dry port, imported from Póvoa de Varzim.”

Hol Horse held the bottle like it was a grenade missing a pin.

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

Dio clenched his fists like an immature child not getting his way.

“Did I ask if you were much of a drinker, Hol Horse? Pet,” he said, snapping his fingers at you. “Did I, Dio, say that?”

“Don’t treat me like a dog, you drunk ass.”

“I can’t win with either of you, can I?!” He cried out before snatching the bottle back from Hol Horse.

He used his fang to pull the cork out of the bottle. He yanked it off his tooth and threw it across the room. He took an oblivion seeking gulp. A trickle of the crimson liquid dribbled down from his mouth, collecting near his collarbones.

“Hol Horse!” He announced, wiping his wine-stained lips. “I’m done playing games. Come here closer.”

Hol Horse went to grab the bottle from Dio, but was denied.

“No. Get on your knees and open your mouth.”

Hol Horse frowned, but obeyed. The hitman opened his mouth and looked up at the vampire. Dio gave him a sick smirk before pouring a steady stream of wine into Hol Horse’s mouth. Part of you expected him to choke on it, but he swallowed it like a professional.

“Good boy,” Dio purred, patting Hol Horse on the head. “Hmph. Take your stupid hat off.” The vampire unceremoniously knocked Hol Horse’s cowboy hat off.

“Can we at least drink out of glasses?” You asked.

“Do you think they drank out of glasses during the Bacchanalia?”

“The what?” Hol Horse asked.

He got on Hol Horse’s level so he could stare into the hitman’s eyes.

“The Bacchanalia, Hol Horse! The Roman festival dedicated to Bacchus.”

“I’m not much into history, Lord Dio.”

Dio looked thoroughly distressed. He gazed up at you expectantly.

“You know what I’m talking about, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Lots of hedonism… And other shit.”

Dio got to his feet and grabbed ahold of your shoulders, his face mere inches from yours. You could smell the sweet aroma of port on his breath.

“It wasn’t just hedonism, my pet. You’re selling it short. It was sheer ecstasy. A celebration of the flesh and its wonders.”

You frowned. “Didn’t maenads eat people in a drunken frenzy and uproot trees with their bare hands?”

“Maenads are Greek, you swine. I’m talking about Roman mythology. You’re thinking of bacchae.” Dio groaned. “Euripides did write about them ripping men limb from limb, but I don’t recall them eating anyone. Though that would be very intriguing.”

“Ar—are you going to eat me?” Hol Horse asked.

“Just your ass,” the vampire said matter-of-factly. Suddenly his face lit up. “Wait, yes! I did ask you here.” Dio smirked again, corners of his lips curling up. He stepped towards the hitman, his footsteps nearly silent against the cold, marble floor. “On your feet,” he said softly.

Hol Horse stood up with trepidation. Dio tucked a lock of the hitman’s sandy blonde hair behind his ear.

“I wanted to apologize for how I left things between us last time.”

“Really?”

“No. But I didn’t get to have as much fun with you as I wanted. Isn’t that right, pet?”

You nodded. Dio expressed his disappointment to you a multitude of times. Usually after he fucked you into a coma-like state and felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable around you.

“I—I,” Hol Horse stammered.

Dio wrapped his arms around the hitman and clung to him like a sloth.

“Come on. You can’t deny my charm.”

“He definitely can, Dio. Don’t be weird.”

You stepped closer to the two men. Dio buried his face into Hol Horse’s neck. Hol Horse swallowed hard and reluctantly patted the vampire’s muscled back.

“At least help me finish this bottle of wine. It’d be a shame to waste it.”

“That would be your own fault for throwing the cork across the room,” you snarked.

“I’m five seconds from killing you.”

You sighed. “Is that my cue to leave?”

“No!” Hol Horse blurted out. “I mean, no. You should, uh, stay! Please stay.”

“He’s right. It’s no fun without you,” Dio relented.

You decided to stay, not only for Hol Horse’s best interests but also because you wouldn’t mind fucking around with him again. The three of you moved to Dio’s bedroom and finished off the bottle of port. You were all sprawled out on the vampire’s bed in your underwear, clothes in little piles on the floor. You and Hol Horse were already riddled with bite marks because Dio simply couldn’t keep his hands off the two of you, interrupting conversation by biting your shoulder or your neck. Never hard, just enough to remind you he was there. The poor thing had little interest or ability to maintain a conversation.

“That’s actually pretty admirable of you,” you said, stroking Dio’s head as it rested in your lap. “I feel like most men would take advantage of a woman in that situation.”

“I respect women, that’s why.”

“I respect women too,” Dio murmured.

“You kill 99% of the women that come across you, honey.”

“What about you? You’re alive. And I’ve fucked at least four women without killing them for the record.”

“That’s not impressive, and you know that,” you chastised.

Dio pouted. He knew you were right, but he’d never admit it.

You reached for the bottle resting on the nightstand only to realize it was empty. You frowned, but knew opening another bottle would be asking for trouble. Dio noticed your expression and sat up.

“Should I get another?”

“No,” you said.

“Yes,” Hol Horse answered at the same time.

Dio got up from the bed and skulked around until he found a bottle of vintage merlot amongst his various treasures. He again pulled the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and hurled it across the room. You stifled a laugh. He took a sip from the bottle before handing it off to Hol Horse who mirrored Dio. The hitman held out the bottle to you, but you shook your head.

“You’re no fun,” Dio slurred.

The vampire groaned and draped himself over you. His body was so cold up against yours, but you welcomed it. The port wine left you warm and tingly. Dio nuzzled his head into your neck before pressing his lips to it. He began to suck on it and his teeth lightly grazed the skin. He pinched your nipple between his fingernails and you winced, but welcomed the stinging pain.

“Don’t be a stranger, cowboy.” You cringed internally at your drunken term of endearment. You made a mental note not to say anything else along those lines.

Hol Horse obliged and crawled over to you on his hands and knees. He flicked his tongue against your nipple and sucked on your breast. You placed your hand on the base of his skull and held it close to your chest. He swirled his tongue around your nipple. Dio rubbed your clit through your underwear, an act that made you slightly uneasy because of his pointed, claw-like nails. Your body tensed up with every swipe of his finger.

Dio smiled against your neck. “Nervous?” He asked.

“Maybe. It feels good though,” you replied.

He applied more pressure to your clit and a whine freed itself from the depths of your throat. You twirled a lock of Hol Horse’s hair as he continued to suck on your breast. You thought about pulling on it, but refrained. You wanted to be kinder to the hitman; you felt obligated to spoil him.

You clenched your jaw and felt as if you were ascending, surrounded by blonde angels.

“Could one of you please, uh.” Hol Horse said, his breath hot against your nipple. “Could one of you touch my cock or somethin’?” He sounded almost pained as he asked the question, like he was embarrassed to desire you and Dio’s touch.

You decided to take the lead, gently pushing Dio away from you. Hol Horse got off his hands and rested on his knees. You pulled down his boxers, revealing his semi-hard cock. It was just as big as you remembered it, long and on the thinner side with not a vein in sight. You stroked it, biting down on your bottom lip as you watched the tension melt away from his body.

“Squeeze it tighter,” Dio heckled.

You didn’t bother responding to him, instead directing all your attention on Hol Horse. You cunt throbbed as you gazed at his face as it contorted with pleasure. Dio reached for the bottle of merlot and took a sizable gulp. He came closer to Hol Horse and grabbed the back of his head.

“Tip your head back and prepare to swallow.”

The hitman heeded Dio’s instructions and graciously accepted the wine pouring into his mouth. Dio’s coordination was nothing to write home about; the wine ended up on Hol Horse’s chest and ultimately the vampire’s bedding (something he would deeply regret in the morning).

You rubbed the tip of Hol Horse’s cock, running the pad of your finger along the slit. Droplets of precum seeped out of his cocktip.

Dio took another sip from the bottle of wine and placed it on the floor. He cupped the hitman’s face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Hol Horse looked momentarily surprised before succumbing to Dio’s alluring nature. He bucked his hips against your hands, thrusting his cock deeper into your grasp.

“Aw, do you need to fuck something?” You teased, squeezing the length of it.

He broke the kiss and mumbled a quick, “Yes.”

Dio jumped at the opportunity to bottom for the hitman. It was almost as if he immediately appeared in front of Hol Horse, naked on his hands and knees.

“Did you use your fucking stand?” You asked.

He smiled, and said nothing.

Hol Horse stroked his cock slapped it against Dio’s taint. You took a seat in front of Dio and gaped at the sensuous sight. The hitman rubbed Dio’s sumptuous ass and gave it a hard smack. He teased Dio’s hole with the tip of his cock, slowly pushing it inside.

“Anytime now,” Dio ordered.

Hol Horse furrowed his brow and slammed his cock into Dio’s ass.

“Fuck!”

“Lord Dio, I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hur—”

Dio groaned. “Shut up. Pet, grab the lube.”

You shook your head at their stupidity and grabbed the lube Dio kept in his nightstand. You handed it to Hol Horse who coated his cock in with the silicon-based lubricant. You sat back and watched as the hitman eased his cock back into Dio.

“Is that better?” Hol Horse asked nervously.

“If you’re going to talk, Hol Horse, at least degrade me. Your pitiful attempts at comforting me are boring.”

Hol Horse breathed in deep and exhaled slowly. You watched eagerly, desperate to know what curses would fall from the hitman’s lips.

“You’re the one that hasn’t shut up once tonight,” Hol Horse growled before shoving Dio’s head into the mattress. “You oughta keep quiet and let me use you like the worthless slut you are.”

“Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about,” Dio called out, his voice muffled by the sheets. “Tell me this is the only thing I’m good for.”

“I don’t know why you keep flapping your jaws, I thought I told you to keep quiet.”

“Say it or I’ll kill you,” Dio growled.

“The only reason something as wretched and disgusting as you exists is so people have something to abuse.”

“Nngh, no abuse,” Dio said, lifting his head slightly.

The hitman apologized, not knowing of Dio’s dreadful childhood. You ruffed the vampire’s hair lovingly, a small consolation.

Hol Horse continued to drive his cock into Dio’s ass, groaning as he bottomed out. You relished in the symphony of gasps and moans coming from the two men. The hitman’s balls clapped up against Dio, each occurrence eliciting a breathy whine from the vampire. Hol Horse reached around Dio and grabbed his neck, forcing him to crane his head back.

“Fucking you is like fucking a whore.”

“I’m not averse to you paying me for this, if that’s your thing.”

Hol Horse let go and pushed Dio’s head back into the mattress. You felt like you were going to implode with pleasure. Seeing the two of them fucking each other was driving you wild.

“Point your gun at him,” you said while you took off your underwear.

Hol Horse summoned his stand and pointed it at the back of Dio’s head. Dio dug his fingers into the mattress in ecstasy as the barrel pressed against his skull. You spread your folds and dipped your fingers inside your cunt.

“Is your finger on the trigger?” You purred, rubbing your clit.

Hol Horse grinned. “You know it is.”

You squealed with delight and continued to play with your cunt, coating your fingers with your arousal. You made eye contact with the hitman while you sucked your fingers clean. You knew he wanted you.

Dio looked up, face still half-buried in his bed.

“Let me eat your cunt,” he moaned, words nearly intelligible.

You grabbed the hair on top of his head and lifted his body up, making him get back on all fours. You placed your hand under his chin and lifted it so his vermillion eyes would meet your gaze. He stuck out his tongue and you brought his head to your cunt. He teased your clit with the tip of his tongue. You tossed your head back and hummed happily as he serviced you. Hol Horse’s thrusts shoved Dio’s head against your body. With each thrust the vampire grunted as he sucked on your arousal soaked folds.

“That feels so good,” you groaned.

Dio’s oral abilities never ceased to amaze you. It was like his mouth was made to be buried in someone’s cunt. His soft lips and long tongue were blessings.

“Fuck,” you whined. “This absolutely is the only thing you’re good for.”

Dio let out a delighted moan. He arched his back and took a more active role as Hol Horse’s fucked him.

“Oh shit,” the hitman groaned. He now lacked the concentration to maintain his stand.

You felt your body growing warmer by the second, heat radiating from your core. You braced yourself against Dio while your strength withered away.

“I—I’m close,” you moaned.

Dio showed your cunt no mercy as he sucked on your clit. Your breathing lost all rhythm, instead becoming labored, quiet gasps with some moans sprinkled in between. You fell back, your body hitting the mattress with a thud. You caught your breath and smiled, utterly satisfied.

“Suck my cock n—no—now,” Dio stuttered.

Hol Horse helped him onto his knees and the vampire reached out to you. You couldn’t even dream of denying him. You crawled a short distance to him and wrapped your lips around his aching cock. You savored the sweet precum that trickled from the tip, focusing on the slit of his cock. His moans grew louder and louder, definitely audible to anyone that happened to pass by his chambers. He was becoming undone. Hol Horse continued to pound his cock into the vampire’s tight hole, his eyes locked shut.

You looked up and watched as Dio demanded Hol Horse to open them and kiss him as he came. The hitman obeyed and shared a sloppy, drunken kiss with the vampire.

It didn’t take long for a deluge of cum to erupt from Dio’s throbbing cock. You swallowed every drop, gulping it down ecstatically. You loved when Dio filled your mouth with his cum.

“I, fuck, think I’m getting there too,’ Hol Horse said. His voice was pained.

Dio pulled Hol Horse’s cock out of him, his expression hinting at a devious plan.

“Lay on your back.”

Hol Horse did as he was told and stroked his cock, longing for it to be deep in Dio’s ass again. Dio got on top of him and guided it back inside. The vampire bounced up and down on the hitman’s cock with a disturbing half-smile on his face.

“D—Dio, I—”

“Is that how a weakling like you is supposed to address me?”

“Lord Dio, I don’t think I can hold it in.”

“Oh, my dear Hol Horse, but you must.”

“Please. I—”

“If you want it that bad, you must beg for it.”

You watched, completely entertained by Dio’s cruelty.

“Please let me come, Lord Dio. I’ll do anything.”

Hol Horse continued to thrust against Dio, the two men finding a rough rhythm.

“And what would that be?” Dio asked, his tone tranquil and deliberate.

“I’ll be your slave. You can use me whenever you want. I don’t care. Just let me come.”

“My slave, hm? Can I hold you to that?”

“Ye—yes. Yes. Yes,” Hol Horse babbled.

“You want to fill me with your cum that bad”

The hitman nodded. “Want you so bad.”

“Should I let him come, pet?”

“Oh yeah,” you said, anticipating the rapturous sounds of Hol Horse’s orgasm.

Dio leaned over and put his hands on Hol Horse’s shoulders.

“Come, slave. Come for your master.”

Hol Horse barely let Dio finish his sentence before he filled the vampire with his milky white cum. You watched as it leaked from Dio’s hole. You were amazed by the amount that the hitman pumped inside the vampire.

Dio sighed happily and rolled off of Hol Horse, cum still leaking out of his ass. Hol Horse looked mildly terrified because of the promise he made to his new master.

“Bath?” You asked, getting up off the bed.

“Yes,” Dio said, holding out his hand.

You helped him to his feet, letting him rest his head on top of yours.

“I guess I’ll head out then,” Hol Horse said softly.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re coming with us,” Dio yawned.

You smiled and beckoned for Hol Horse to follow. The hitman appeared reluctant, but ultimately decided to join you. He believed that a relaxing bath was the perfect moment to renegotiate the verbal contract he had just entered with the vampire.

#dio brando x reader #dio x reader #hol horse x reader #dio brando smut #dio smut #hol horse smut #jjba smut #jojo's bizarre adventure smut #.fics #.jjba #.dio #.hol horse #reader insert #x reader

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pervertedreams · 2 years

Text

thinking about perv!eddie and how he literally breaks a sweat whenever you’re in his like of vision. you could literally just be helping him with his homework. you’ve graduated already so you pretty much know all of the material. so helping him out is no biggie. the room is pretty much silent at the moment, your focus on the question i front of you made whatever words on your lips die out.

but eddie hasn’t said anything for a while. usually he’ll start humming or fiddling with something, so even crack a joke or two about how the smartest girl in school can’t figure out the current question you’re on. but again, he’s completely silent. little do you know his palms are sweaty, and the thin layer is sweat beneath his bangs are gonna turn into beads if he doesn’t wipe it off. his brown curls slowly start to cling against his heated skin. he doesn’t know why he gets so worked up around you.

maybe it’s the way your thighs squeeze whenever you’re talking, and how the plushness of them slightly fold over one another. or maybe it’s the way your tongue darts out to lick your dainty manicured thumb to gracefully flip back and forth through the pages. fuck he wishes he could feel that warm pick muscle wrap around the head of his pink-

no no, he shouldn’t think of you that way. you’re his friend? someone he’s loved- LIKED for so long. he can’t think of you that way? but he can’t help it.

your finally break the silence, at this point it’s starting to feel awkward. you peer up at eddie, face slightly redder than usual, and his bangs look damp. it’s not even hot in here? at least not to you?

“you okay there, munson. kinda went quiet on me?” your soft voice, so hushed and sweet, but also so divine and mature. you huffed chuckle as you let the words fall from you lips has his dick jumping. i mean he’s like putty every time you speak. he should be embarrassed, ashamed. but he’s not.

he swallows, “m’fine. just-“ he’s trailing off, words faded into silence yet again. he doesn’t know how to response cause he feels like he’s been caught red handed. all you did was ask if he’s okay, but he feels like you can hear every thought he’s ever had. he’s panicking for no reason. “kinda tired i guess.” he lies, cracks a small smile to stay in his typical ‘whimsy’, ‘lighthearted’ character.

your lips are pushed to the side in a inside expression, placing the book off your lap and onto the bed beneath you. striding over to where eddie is seated, for him it feels like times slows the closer you get, and when you place your cool palm against his heated face, he almost passes out. he’s absolutely pathetic, but again he doesn’t care. with the way you’re slightly hunched over, and how low he’s sitting, he’s getting the most delicious view of your cleavage. he’s burry his face in it if he could, but he can’t do instead he just digs his fingers further into his thighs. doing everything in his power to refrain his perverted tendencies.

“you’re literally on fire eddie. are you sure you’re okay?” your lips, always so moisturized and caked with cherry scented lip gloss. he knows the lips gloss you use, your favorite perfume, how you still have carebear and strawberry shortcake stuffies. knows your favorite colors, and how you only wear silver because you think it flatters your complexion better. how you love adding bows to your hair cause it feels more girly, and how you cut your shorts and skirts shorter ‘just cause’.

he knows almost everything there is about you, he wants you so bad, wants to feel you, hold you, kiss you. be everything you need.

because he’s all you need.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson concept #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #perv!eddie #black reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem reader #my work┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

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ace-of-gay · 2 years

Note

Hello! I saw that your requests were open, so I was wondering if you could maybe write a Bucky x little ftm reader where the reader has a squishy tummy and he just loves on them? I need some comfort, some mean people said some things today and I feel awful 😞

A bit of a squishy tum

Bucky x little ftm reader

1,327 words

I know it looks like alot of warning but i promise its not that bad im just extra cautious today

Warnings: age regression, bad self talk, names for caregiver and littles used, such and daddy, baby, prince etc. Items like sippys coloring books and cartoons, physical touch but in no way inappropriate whatsoever, mentions on undressing and dressing for a bath, no gender specific bodyparts mentioned but chest implied by reader using chestbinder. Rude and hateful comments from mean people at work.

Pronouns used: he him

Reader is transgender female to male

It took me forever to find this gif but its the one i wanted from the start

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Bucky got home a little late tonight, busy helping the new team member get settled in to the routine and training.

usually you refrained from slipping into smol space until he was home but it also wasn’t uncommon for him to walk through the door and find you cuddled up half asleep watching cartoons.

Around five when you got home he had gotten a notification from Jarvis that you’re in a little headspace, he knew he didn't have to worry, you had the rules and you refuse to break them.

All that being known he wasn’t surprised when walked in to find you, seated on the floor in front of the coffee table coloring in your new coloring book, music playing in the background, smiling to himself he slips off his shoes and comes over to where your sitting, situating himself on the couch behind you.

"Whatcha colorin bub?" He leans forward placing a gentle kiss to your temple, you lift up your book to show him the meticulously colored picture of a kitty from one of your morning shows. "Look at that buddy, can daddy put it on the fridge when you're done? "

You hum in response while nodding your head, he could feel his heart skip a beat, a smile making its home upon his face, you are everything to him, he truly loves you so very much.

Once done you carefully rip it out and run over to the fridge, sliding a little from your socks against the hard wood floors.

Coming back to him this time facing him you seat yourself where you previously were, staring up at him resting your cheek against his knee, sleepy eyes and a cozy smile hiding what’s truly playing in your mind, he couldn't see your apprehension.

He leans down taking your hands in his and helping you stand up, pulling you into his lap, you scoot off to the side and burying your self under his arm.

"What’s this all about?, you always sit in daddy’s lap during cuddle time" he questions while rubbing your side to help soothe you.

Soon enough your tummy rumbled and he took it as a memo that you’re hungry, but at this moment food was the last thing you wanted, well actually its the last thing 'they' wanted you to have, you were desperately hungry but their words are unbelievably loud and mean.

"Lets get you a snack, my baby boys tummy says he’s hungry" picking you up to carry you on his hip with him to the kitchen, you try to wriggle out of his hold, youre too big for that, only small boys get that, "hey, settle down baby, what's happening today?" You shake your head while your eyes gloss over.

"Do you wanna stay here on the couch while I grab you a snack? You nod letting your attention fall back to the tv show, a minute or two later he returns with a small snack and a sippy cup, passing them to you, at this time your coworkers words have been forgotten about, nibbling away at your favorite snack you offer him some as well but he politely declines your offer letting you have it.

By the time you’ve finished your snack you reach to grab at him when he stops you "whoa bugger you’ve got your hands and clothes all messy, how did that happen" he tickles your sides giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek, "goodness we gotta get you cleaned up or alpine is gonna do it for us, can you go get ready for a bath while I grab you comfy clothes and a towel?"

"Yes daddy I can do dat" you run off towards the bathroom, carefully shifting your way out of Bucky’s hoodie, leaving you in your chest binder, shorts and sockies.

You end up getting distracted by the container of bath bombs, made with safe ingredients for sensitive skin you take the container off the shelf and picking through to find a red and black one with purple swirls, setting it on the counter and continuing to get ready for your bath, Bucky walks in setting your pajamas on the counter and your towel on the lid of the toilet, "you’re such a good boy, you always listen, just let my run the water and we can get you in."

He feels the tap with his right hand making sure its the perfect so not to hurt your skin, putting the plug in he steps back "hands please, so you dont slip" taking your hands in his own he helps you keep from slipping and falling.

"Daddy! Baf bomb, please" drawing out the e sound to emphasize your desire as you point at it on the counter, he takes it handing it to you, letting you dunk it under the water, feeling how it fizzles up in your hands. Giggling and squealing with a big smile on your face "daddy feel it! It tickles"

Wrapping his hand around yours and laughing with you "it sure does, you silly boy".

He helps you wash and rinse your hair and scrub the sudsy soap on your arms, legs, having you close your eyes and hun your hands along the ridges of his metal arm to help distract you from any impending dysphoria or body dysmorphia as he washes your front.

Helping you out and drying you off. "D'ya want me to help you get dressed or do it by yourself?" He questions followed by a kiss on the nose.

"I do it myself" he nods stepping out of the room to go put on his pajamas, "alrighty bubbas if you need help just call for me"

Taking the undergarments and putting them on followed by some fuzzy pajama pants, so far so good, by the time you turn around to put your top on your coworkers hateful remarks ring in your head again, your body not looking 'normal' to her standards, her colleagues snickering and giving you 'such helpful tips' to dig her words deeper, had Bucky known what they had said to you he would have mad sure you knew they were wrong.

But what if they weren't wrong, what if- sucking in your tummy and turning to the side, running your hands down your torso feeling the way it gives to the added pressures your eyes start to well with tears.

Apparently you hadn’t heard Bucky calling to you, worrying he had opened it to see you internally falling apart over the way you look, he steps behind you drawing your eyes to him instead of what you see as imperfections.

"D-daddy m f-fat, I’m icky", it hurts him so deeply to hear you talk bad about yourself, but it's a taught way of thinking, its not within you to talk so low of yourself.

Getting down on his knees he holds your hands in his own placing them onto your tummy, "this my prince is not fat or icky, this is squishy, alive and perfect, it is beautiful an it is you" he kisses your tummy dozens of times over causing the whimpers to turn to soft giggles, he hugs you around your waist with a last kiss to your tum.

Standing up he takes his shirt off of his own back helping you put it on instead, once again taking your hands in his this time placing them on his own tummy, "daddy is squishy and soft and most certainly alive just like you, there is nothing wrong with us being soft, curvy or having full happy tummy’s, we are only human" you smile leaning into his chest, you can hear his heart at he circles you with his arms, picking you up taking you to the room, he lays down with you on top of him, your head on his shoulder giving you another kiss on the forehead to lull you to sleep.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Thank you annon for requesting from me, im very appreciative of you, im sorry it took me couple of days but to anyone who feels like they aren't good enough because of their weight i promise that you are perfect just the way you are, i felt this one close to my heart because i genuinely understand where this is coming from.

-ace

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okay-j-hannah · 1 year

Text

The Oak Tree

The Last of Us : Oneshot

Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 10120

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3 😭 angry revenge, blood/violence with raiders, protective ‘who did this to you?’ Joel 🥰 18+ themes, smut, overstimulated, super sensitive, touch starved, unprotected pinv, and aftercare

I’m a massive fan of the video game and PEDRO has been on my mind for WEEKS {thanks TikTok edits} I’m obsessed with this man

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Over the years of making trades, there’s only been one girl that Joel can’t seem to get out of his head

{2007 – four years into the infection}

Just outside of Lincoln was a reservoir, brimmed with reflective water. It was surrounded by oak and hardwood, a line of color differing in shades of green, orange, and red. Joel looked at the leaves rippling against the stagnant water, thinking to himself that’s quite the view.

Tess, as per usual, was able to say those things out loud, “It’s beautiful.”

He didn’t need to reply.

“The neighborhood is just over there,” she continued, hands wound about her backpack straps, “Third house on the left, near the book café.”

Coffee – thought Joel – what he’d give for a black coffee right then.

“I bet she has coffee,” Tess said, speaking for him again. “She probably has that café up and running.”

It was too casual, too normal, to have a life outside of a QZ. The idea someone was living off the land after four years of a fungal apocalypse didn’t sound right. Something would have happened by now – raiders, a hoard of infected, accident with a gun.

“I still don’t like it,” Joel grumbled, following the colorful leaf strewn trail. People just didn’t survive out there on their own. It was unheard of. They always met a tragic end sooner or later.

“You don’t have to like it,” Tess bit back, “But we have a potential customer and I’m not going to pass up on that just because of a feeling you have.”

Joel gave a gruff sound in reply.

“If Frank says she’s okay then I trust her.”

If Frank said the sky was green and the grass was blue she would’ve believed him. They were thick as thieves.

“Maybe we’ll make a friend.”

“Maybe we should stop answering radio calls from Lincoln,” Joel said.

Tess scoffed, “But then we wouldn’t see Bill and Frank again.”

Joel didn’t say anything, holding back the words that he knew Tess could already guess. She spun around, pausing their walk with a stern look on her face.

“If you need to see this as a business meeting, fine – we’re out here trying to get the best trade. But I am going to meet a friend of a friend. And you will act cordial because as much as you can’t stand the thought of getting to know people past the stage of ‘get out of my fucking way,’ I want to.” She gave him a hard stare, “There’s nothing wrong with attempting something normal.”

Like inviting friends out to coffee.

Joel refrained a sigh, staring Tess down with a look of understanding. He only gave a curt nod in return.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t going to object further, she continued on the path. They passed the reservoir and were met with a crossroads, one direction leading towards a historic looking town.

It was small and safeguarded by mighty oak trees keeping watch. It looked like a quaint place people moved to in search of a quiet retirement. There were only a couple shops, a little food market, and half a dozen houses.

“There are more neighborhoods towards the west,” Tess remarked, “Bill and Frank live that way.”

Joel surveyed the area, used to the routine of searching for potential threats. Nearing the fence line, he put his palm against the heel of a gun.

In similar fashion to Bill and Frank’s, an electric fence encompassed the first three houses, the café, and an electronics store. He knew this girl accepted a lot of help from her neighbors, at least after Frank moved in. No doubt there were a number of complicated traps rigged everywhere outside the fence line.

“She knows we’re coming?”

Tess neared the fence gate, “Yeah, she said she’ll be on the lookout and… oh, there she is.”

Coming out of the first house was a woman, younger than him by some years but that wasn’t the first thing Joel noticed about her. He noticed the bright beaming smile on her face – open and welcoming.

“Hi there!” she called out, walking with quick steps, “Tess?”

“(Y/N)?” Tess asked in return.

“In the flesh,” the woman said, still smiling that wide smile, “It’s nice to put a face to the radio voice.”

Tess started smiling too, “I agree. Frank speaks very highly of you.”

“Oh he’s just a chatterbox,” (Y/N) laughed, pressing a few numbers into a keypad and unlocking the gate. “But I love him for it.” She opened the gate with a squeaky clang of the chain link fence.

“Thank you,” Tess said, gesturing behind her as she walked through, “This is my partner Joel.”

“Partner,” (Y/N) beamed, “Nice to meet you.”

Joel had to tear his eyes away from the grinning lower half of her face to meet her gaze. He could only nod.

“That’s how he says hi,” Tess sighed, “Not much of a people person.”

“I don’t blame him,” (Y/N) continued, “Not with how things are these days.”

Unfocused on her smile, Joel now scanned the rest of her. Her hair was clean, her clothes untorn, there was even a smell of flowers about her. She didn’t look like someone surviving an apocalypse. She looked like how the world used to be.

And it put a strange feeling in Joel’s gut.

“I’ll give you the tour,” (Y/N) said, “And then we can talk over dinner.”

“We’re not staying,” Joel said immediately.

Tess gave him a glare that said: don’t be rude. “We shouldn’t stay when it’ll be dark soon.”

“You’re welcome to spend the night,” (Y/N) said, eyes fixed on Joel’s hard gaze, more apprehensive than hurt at his unwillingness to spend any more time there than he had to. “I have a guest house prepared.”

“A guest house?” Tess couldn’t hold in her laugh, “How much do you rent for?”

(Y/N) was smiling again, “We can discuss the details over roast and potatoes.”

Joel’s stomach made the infuriating decision to growl just then.

“I’ll make the tour quick,” (Y/N) flickered amused eyes towards him.

He set his jaw, choosing to look anywhere but the two girls trying to contain their laughs.

“This is my lookout base,” (Y/N) gestured to the first house she just came out of. “It has a nice view of the surrounding area from each window. I’ll spend time up there looking for any incoming infected. It’s how I get my target practice.”

Joel peered into the open windows of the house and found a rifle fitted with a scope leaning against the sill.

They walked down the center street, (Y/N) talking along the way, “The second house is for guests and has a lot of my food storage and extra supplies hidden beneath the floors. This third house is my own.”

She gestured to the one with a large front porch and a flourishing front garden. Snug between the two houses was a roaming chicken coop and another pen right behind it.

“What’s behind the chickens?” Tess asked.

“Rabbits,” (Y/N) said, “I trade them for supplies at Bill’s.”

“Have they ever stayed at your guest house?”

“A few times,” (Y/N) smiled proudly, “Five star reviews.”

They continued towards the center of her little town. The ground was dug up all around the cobblestone street, housing planter boxes and freshly tilled earth.

“Here’s my garden,” she said, “Mostly root vegetables but I’ve been searching for some summer berries or vine plants. Tomatoes and peppers maybe.”

“We could help with that,” Tess mused, “We know where to find seeds.”

(Y/N) beamed again, “Right ahead is the café. I’ve got coffee beans coming out of my ears in that place. And I’ve been using it as my library too – the perfect place to take a load off.”

That feeling in Joel’s gut was persistent and it was making him uncomfortable now.

“And that is an electronics store,” (Y/N) pointed to the last building within her fenced in town. “It’s where I use my radio and keep stock of my power and water.”

Tess turned full circle, nodding her head like she was impressed, “And that over there?” She gestured towards the fence line where large heavy bricks were piled.

“Oh that’s my ongoing project to keep this place more secure,” (Y/N) sighed, “Along with the electric fence I figured I could add another layer of defense. A brick wall would keep people from being able to peer in.”

“That’s going to take a lot of supplies.”

She nodded, hands in her pockets, “I’ve been disassembling a brick house down the road – it got hit with a car. But I’m running low on cement mix.”

Tess chewed her lip in thought, “I think we could manage that.”

Joel kept his eyes on (Y/N), anywhere but her face. She talked like she hadn’t seen real shit yet. She smiled like life wasn’t hard. She looked clean and unnaturally content for the world they lived in.

The nagging, uncomfortable feeling was urgent. It pushed him to ask, “Are you here alone?”

She looked to him with that sudden air of apprehension, “Yes.”

He shook his head towards the ground, “That’s not smart.”

“I have Bill and Frank,” she said, that smile gone with the first word out of his mouth. “And I’m well prepared.”

“You’re one person sitting on a pot of gold,” Joel said lowly.

“I’ve lasted this long,” she said just as quietly.

It was making him mad, “Don’t be stupid.”

“Joel,” Tess said warningly, “We are guests here.”

“I’m just being honest,” he said, “I’ve seen too many good people get killed because of their good intentions. Pretty soon there will only be assholes and killers left.”

There was a pause where (Y/N) stared him down with an edge of fear. It made her look like a rabbit about to dart away and hide.

“And which are you,” she asked quietly, “An asshole or a killer?”

Joel met her gaze with a sizzle of electricity. He thought she was good – it put a fire in her chest, a want to prove herself capable of being good and a survivor. The defiant look on her face only made his uneasy feeling flare tenfold.

She wasn’t safe. She needed someone to protect her.

“We’re both assholes,” Tess stepped in, “That’s what makes us so great at negotiating trades.”

(Y/N) turned her body towards Tess, burned by Joel’s words, “I could use more assholes on my side.” She refused to look at Joel, “Maybe one will end up staying.”

Tess laughed, brushing over the tension that had settled between them, “Sounds like you’ve heard Frank tell their love story one too many times.”

“He says I just need to find my Bill,” she laughed along, walking them back towards her house, “I guess I just need to find an asshole.” She peered over her shoulder to give Joel a raised eyebrow.

He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped him, still upset and burning with the desire to argue his point further. Maybe he was more upset with the fact that he’d fixated on her need for a protector.

He didn’t need another person to worry about, not when he already had Tess and Tommy. Adding to that list meant adding to the grief he’d endure if he failed to save them.

It was good she was apprehensive of him. It was good there was an edge of fear when she looked at him. He couldn’t get attached.

“That smells amazing,” Tess breathed, entering the house, “Where did you get a roast?”

“Bill,” (Y/N) said, going to the kitchen to check on the slow cooker, “He carved up a cow near a cattle range a few miles away. I traded some sheets, vegetables, and coffee beans for it.”

Joel leaned against the entryway. Better be worth it – he thought – trading supplies for one measly roast.

“I understand if you have to leave,” (Y/N) continued, “But my home is open to you. You’re welcome to stay for some food and rest.”

“You’ll accept us into your trades, then?” Tess asked. “I thought we made a pretty lousy first impression.”

(Y/N) smiled, “Better than you think.” She didn’t look towards Joel. “I know we just met…”

Joel made a gruff sound that seemed close to a laugh.

Still (Y/N) didn’t acknowledge him, “But I trust Bill’s judge of character. If he’s willing to work with you then I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

“We’ll work up a supply list,” Tess nodded, “And in the meantime I say we set the table.”

“Tess…” Joel said warningly, “We should…”

“Get the plates,” Tess cut in, “I’m starving.”

~~~

{2007 – 3 months later}

The leaves were still crisp and golden along the road to (Y/N)’s town. It was later in the day, much later than Joel would’ve liked, but Tess knew there’d be an invitation to stay the night.

And as much as Joel hated to admit it, a hot shower and a clean bed sounded like heaven. His back was aching with the weight of their trade. Sweat dotted his temples and the falling light made him squint his eyes.

“Fuck, I hope she cooked,” Tess groaned, “That hike felt way longer with full packs.”

Joel wiped his brow, “I told you we should’ve started with seeds.”

“She needs the cement more,” Tess said, “And we’ll get more in return for the mix.”

The town was coming into their sights and Joel was surprised to see the progress made on the perimeter.

The brick wall was finished along one side and barbed wire extended between the electric fence and the wall. Bill had to have shared his high tinsel wire because the fence was reinforced and surrounded by new traps.

They could hear the electric hum of the fence as they neared the front gate. The keypad housed a buzzer to signal (Y/N) of incoming guests, which Tess pressed.

She gave Joel a look and suppressed a smile.

“What?” he asked.

She shrugged, “Still don’t like it?”

He squinted through the fence at the town within, “Don’t be surprised if she’s gone.”

“We talked to her two days ago,” Tess said, “And I think we would’ve seen evidence of raiders if they came through here.”

Joel still sighed his inner turmoil as (Y/N) came out from where the chicken coop was hidden. She smiled that beaming smile and waved at them with garden gloves in hand.

“Long time no see,” she said, “How was the trip?”

Both Tess and Joel hesitated at seeing her limp towards them, a bandage clearly wrapped around her lower leg.

“Long,” Tess finally replied, waiting for the gate to open, “What happened there?” She gestured towards (Y/N)’s leg, unwinding her hands from her backpack to have easy access to grabbing a weapon.

Joel was stiff, a few fingers grazing the gun secured in his pocket.

(Y/N) seemed unphased, waving them off, “I fell while collecting more bricks from the broken house. I got a bad scrape but nothing terrible.” She opened the gate and finally sensed the tension, “Why?”

Tess eyed Joel before muttering, “Show us.”

“Excuse me?” (Y/N) asked.

“We just want to be sure,” Tess said, “We don’t want to be locked in with a biter tonight.”

(Y/N) scoffed, raising her eyebrows, “Um… yeah, sure.” She knelt to one knee with a wince and rolled her pant leg. Blood had seeped through the bandage and made a terrible sound as she peeled it away from her wound.

It was still fresh and speckled with new blood from being torn open again, but it was obviously a scrape and not a bite.

“Satisfied?” she asked, grimacing at the wound, “I’m in need of a clean bandage.”

“Can you blame us?” Tess said, relaxing her shoulders, “We had to be sure.”

“I would think one infected was nothing for you two,” she jested, stumbling to her feet and meeting Joel’s eyes, “I promise it’s nothing.”

Joel didn’t apologize, still touching the handle of his gun.

“You must be tired,” she continued, “I can show you your rooms.” She limped towards the guest house, balling the used bandage in her hands.

Tess followed, Joel left to secure the gate. He grinded his teeth as he fought the sudden urge to lecture (Y/N) about being safe. He had hoped the strange protective feeling of months before would’ve faded. But seeing her again ignited that furious part of him.

“I’ve cleaned your sheets,” (Y/N) said, entering the house and turning for the kitchen, “And there’s extra clothes in the closets.”

“That’s generous of you,” Tess said, “You mind if I shower first?”

Joel shook his head and (Y/N) called out, “No, there should be plenty of hot water for you.”

Tess nodded to her partner and climbed the stairs. Joel listened to her steps, debating on what to do next. He slung the backpack off his shoulders and felt instant relief. A shiver went down his spine as the sweat of his back cooled against the air.

A thud sounded in the kitchen and (Y/N) muttered, “Shit.”

Instinct told Joel to run towards her voice, but he held himself back as he walked into the kitchen.

(Y/N) was leaning against the counter, a stepstool overturned next to her feet. The cabinet above her was open and full of what appeared to be first aid.

Joel put two and two together, choosing not to say anything as he walked all the way over to her. He reached out easily and searched for a bandage and maybe an antibiotic.

(Y/N) inched away, suddenly overwhelmed by his body nearly pressing into hers. “I slipped,” she said quietly.

He didn’t respond, rummaging the top shelf and finding a roll of cloth.

“There’s some medicine up there too,” she muttered, “Next to the hydrogen peroxide bottle.”

Joel found it, placing the supplies on the counter and closing the cabinet.

“Thank you,” she said, waiting for him to move before claiming the first aid. She limped to the dining table, bending over to examine her leg, “I’m making chicken for dinner,” she said, wondering why he was still there, “It should be done soon.”

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms, watching her rub ointment onto the scrape.

“Did you run into anything on your way here?”

He was quiet, standing there with a hard look on his face. His lips were pursed as he contemplated her words.

“You know,” she said, unraveling the roll of cloth, “I’m pretty sure a conversation involves two people talking.”

Joel refrained a sigh, only tilting his head slightly down in her direction. Why he didn’t just go to his room, he didn’t know. The frustration building inside of him was undeniable as he watched her attempt to use the bandage.

“You’re putting it on crooked.”

She lifted her head, “What?”

He grumbled and pushed himself off the wall. He went to kneel in front of her, taking the bandage from her hands and beginning to wrap it around her leg.

She stared at him wide eyed, her mind going blank as he handled her leg. He was surprisingly soft with her, holding her with gentle hands that she didn’t expect. His hair was a soft brown, curled at the edges with the last remnants of sweat. With him bowed before her, she could spy from above easily.

He was warm and toasted from the setting sun, hands still rough and dirty with his travels. He seemed to realize it too as he held her soap scrubbed skin. The flowery smell he found on her months before was overwhelming now. He identified the sweet smell on her skin.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

The frustration licked his ribs. “Don’t thank me,” he said, “What you’re doing here is going to get you killed.”

She stiffened under his touch, that edge of fear creeping into her vision. “Joel…”

“No,” he said lowly, “What would’ve happened if you got hurt worse than this? There’s no one here to help you.”

“I have…”

“If you say Bill and Frank I swear to god I’ll break this chair.”

(Y/N) clamped her mouth shut, terrified of the sudden anger laced between his words.

“It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long,” he muttered, “That luck is going to run out eventually.” He tied off the bandage, “And when it does, who will be here to bury you?”

She gulped, voice shaky when she asked, “Why are you so upset? Me being dead just means one less client on your list.”

Joel stood sharply, “It means one less decent person in this fucked up world.” His eyes bored into hers, “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she challenged, but her voice was still so small.

“Don’t you understand what’s out there?” Joel said, that anger fueling his tongue. “There are people that thrive in this end of the world shit. They won’t hesitate to burn this place down and skin you alive for all its worth.”

“So I’ll build up my defenses,” (Y/N) said louder than before, “I’ll set a wider perimeter.”

“They’ll work around it,” Joel ground out, “They’ll find a way when you least expect it.”

She stood from her chair, supported by her good leg, “Don’t underestimate what I can do. I’m not helpless out here.”

“But you are alone,” Joel growled, “Alone and cushioned with your electric fences and hot water and three meals a day. There are people that would kill for that!”

“Are you offering a solution?” she said with more vigor, “Or are you just going to keep telling me what a naïve imbecile I am?”

He fisted his hands, “I’m telling you to get out of here before you get seriously hurt.”

“Why do you care so much?” She breathed heavy, her fear ebbing into apprehension again.

Joel set his jaw, staring at her for a tense few seconds before storming out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, the sound of Tess still in the shower above.

He had to physically stop himself from slamming the door as he went for the bathroom. He turned the sink on roughly and splashed himself with cool water.

He was doing it again. He was already getting attached.

She wasn’t his problem – wasn’t his responsibility – she was just another trade route outside Boston. It was the mantra he said to himself throughout the rest of the night.

But not before taking a lukewarm shower to calm down.

In the morning he sat on the edge of the bed with a dull ache in his head. He had a strange dream about (Y/N). It was short lived but left him with a race in his chest. He prayed that it didn’t happen again.

Tess was trading the cement mix with a number of (Y/N)’s storage items downstairs, so Joel figured he’d sneak into the café to get some coffee.

He could smell the bitter roasted beans from outside the shop door and his nerves gave a leap of joy at the thought of straight hot caffeine. He entered the café with his nose in the air and his throat thirsting for a drink.

It was a terrible surprise to see that the fresh pot of coffee came along with (Y/N) behind the counter.

Her eyes met his for a fraction of a second, turning away quickly to put away a sack of beans. Joel stood awkwardly at the door, already preparing to extinguish whatever frustrating protective feelings developed.

“Good morning,” she whispered, pouring a cup of coffee.

Joel eyed the steam curling lazily into the air and he convinced himself it was the coffee that made him stay – not because he wanted to see her beaming smile again.

He gave a gruff reply as he walked over to the counter.

She gave him the cup, “Coffee, black.”

It was too good to resist. He sat down and slid the cup towards himself, “Thank you,” he muttered.

The first sip was the richest, god he hadn’t had coffee in so long. It warmed his stomach, easing the knots in his hunched shoulders.

It’s satisfying taste provoked him to add, “How’s your leg?”

She froze against the counter, trailing her fingers along the edge, “It’s fine.”

He nodded to himself, “Good.”

She laughed under her breath, “Good,” she repeated, walking towards the other side of the shop. There she eased herself into an armchair, propping her leg on an ottoman.

Joel peered over his shoulder and saw with a raised brow, half a dozen bookshelves, each laden with more books than he cared to see in a lifetime.

He sipped his coffee again, eyeing her as she selected a book from a pile beside her. Of course she had a book collection.

“We’ll be heading out in about an hour.”

She nodded, now absorbed in her book, “See you later, asshole.”

He jerked his head around to catch her in the insult, but she was smiling softly behind her pages.

~~~

{2009 – 18 months later}

“You’re such a hypocrite!”

(Y/N) threw a coffee mug at him, successfully smashing it against the wall beside his head. He dodged the flying shards of ceramic, fuming at her accusation.

“Are you insane?”

“You have no right to lecture me about my safety when you came here alone. Isn’t that the one thing you can’t stand about me living here?”

“Tess is staying with Bill and Frank an extra day!” Joel explained, “She’ll be here tomorrow.”

(Y/N) scoffed, shoving against the café door and stomping down the center street. “Why can’t you just leave it be?”

Joel was hot on her heels, “Because I know what’s out there.”

“I’m sick of that excuse, Joel.” She rounded on him, standing in the middle of the garden, “It can’t be the only reason you’re stuck on this argument.” Her hands on her hips, she squared up to him, “I’ve proven myself for nearly two years.”

He clenched his jaw, a twitch in his cheek, “Don’t…”

She grimaced, so frustrated she was nearly disgusted by his retorts. “You make me so angry sometimes.”

In a rush of aggression, Joel grabbed her by the arms, on the verge of shaking some sense into her, “(Y/N),” he ground out. And it struck him then.

Close and hot and breathing each other’s heavy breaths. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to claim her mouth with his own. The want seized him with such urgency he was temporarily struck dumb.

His hands clamped down on her arms, keeping her close to his mouth.

“Joel,” she said full of heat, “What are you doing?”

But she was eyeing his lips now, so near her own. All she had to do was lean in.

Joel was so conflicted he was fighting every instinct in his body. His lip was starting to curl because of it, turning into a snarl as he gripped (Y/N) close to him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He wasn’t supposed to get attached, wasn’t supposed to want her.

But god she was so infuriating, so tempting.

His snarl neared her mouth, on the verge of devouring her. But in a sheer act of will he managed to push away – stumble back – and take a deep breath that wasn’t full of her clean, flowery scent.

He was running hot now, growing stiff as he stood there. He couldn’t steady his breaths, hands on his hips as he stared her down.

She was flushed and breathless in a way that spoke of innocent confusion. Her eyes were wide, and a delicate hand was resting on her chest, as if she had to hold back the pounding of her heart.

Oh God.

Joel bit back a growl, “I saw raiders… (Y/N). On my way over here. They were a few miles back but it’s the closest we’ve seen them in years. They’re scouting.” He knew better than to take a step closer to her. “And they will find you here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He ran a hand over his beard, cursing to himself, “Fucking… this isn’t a joke, (Y/N). You could be in some serious danger.”

“I’ll figure it out,” she said, full of emotion, “I always do.”

That flush was settling in her cheeks and her eyes became glassy with it.

“Don’t be stupid.”

She clenched her jaw, screwing her lips up in a scowl. “I think you should leave.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Go away, Joel!” she fumed, standing her ground, “We made our trade – you have no business staying here any longer.”

He cursed her, making for the exit like he didn’t know what else to do. Hot blood was beating in his ears and as much as he hated her choice to stay, he still wanted her. He still wanted to be near her regardless of how angry she made him.

She knew he could reach Bill and Franks before nightfall or else she never would have sent him away. And at their little compound he pushed past Tess and found refuge in his own room for the remainder of the night.

Frank was curious as ever. “What’s gotten into him?” he asked Tess, “Ran into some trouble?”

Tess sighed, holding her glass of wine, “I told him to go on ahead to (Y/N)’s.” She took a sip, “Maybe I thought they could use some alone time together.”

Frank raised his eyebrows, suppressing a smile, “Little miss matchmaker you are.”

“Obviously it didn’t work,” she said, “But I know there’s something there.”

“I believe it,” he laughed, “Every asshole needs their sunshine person.”

Tess shared the laugh, “And a sunshine person (Y/N) is.” She raised her glass, “Let’s hope she manages to put him in his place.”

Frank eyed where Joel had just stormed off to, “If she hasn’t already.”

They shared a drink and wished each other a good night, oblivious to the fact that Joel was tossing and turning in his sheets, livid with the idea that (Y/N) could control him even when she wasn’t there.

He was angry and restless and resented how his cock twitched with dreams of her – how he very nearly kissed her just hours before.

It haunted him until dawn when he awoke with the distinct wish for a coffee from the café. He rubbed hard at his face, groaning with the lack of control on his own thoughts. (Y/N) was there smiling at him in his minds eye. Her clean flowery scent filling his nose.

He willed the blood to keep from rushing downward.

Tess and Frank were at the kitchen table, enjoying some eggs and toast. There was a black coffee waiting for him, steaming with the heat. His eyes flickered to the counter to see a bag of coffee beans clearly from (Y/N)’s town.

Tess followed his eyes and smirked, “You slept in.”

“Or he’s just been staring at the ceiling all night,” Frank smiled, “Figured you needed a coffee either way.”

Joel glared at them, sitting down and eagerly drinking the bitter coffee. He licked his lips, “I want to get back to the QZ before dark. We should leave soon.”

Frank groaned, “I always miss you guys when you’re gone.”

“Why do you think I stayed so long this time,” Tess said, “But we’ve got other trades to make. And there’s always the chance the QZ finds us missing. I don’t think I want to head back knowing there’s a noose waiting for me.”

There was a thud as heavy footfalls came from outside. Frank was to his feet immediately, knowing who was making the sound.

Bill came through the door, his breath a little labored, “Joel…”

“What is it?” Frank questioned, meeting him at the door, “What happened?”

Joel rose to his feet, a spark of fear igniting in his chest. If Bill wanted to speak with him, it could only mean grave news.

“Outside,” Bill said, “There’s smoke coming in from the east. A lot of it. I tried to radio (Y/N), and I can’t get a signal. Her channel has never been turned off before.”

Tess moved her head from one man to the other, “Joel…” she began as if she was trying to soothe him before something reckless happened. “It doesn’t mean…”

But Joel was shoving his way outside to look towards the east, the sun still rising as the day began. In the distance was a large billowing cloud of smoke. It was wide and black, meaning something big was burning hot and still raging.

East meant (Y/N)’s town. It meant something terrible had happened. And his blood ran cold.

“Joel,” Tess said behind his back, her mouth falling open, “What could’ve…”

Joel ran back inside for his pack, Bill waiting for him with a polished handgun and a box of ammo. A silent wish of luck that only Bill could express. They shared a look of understanding – that this was a moment of dread that people prayed would never happen to someone they cared about.

Joel gave him a nod of thanks and set out with Tess only five minutes later. He was keeping a runners pace until Tess asked him to slow down.

“Let’s not exhaust ourselves before we know what the threat is.”

“It was those raiders,” Joel bit back, “I told you they were heading this way.”

Tess was thinking it too, “She has a fighting chance,” she said. “She’s well prepared.”

Joel fought against the fear planted in his chest, “I shouldn’t have left.”

Tess wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “We’ll deal with it when we get there.”

It was the quickest they had ever made the trip, using the black billowing smoke as their guide. It never wavered and it never died down, meaning the fire wasn’t done burning everything in its path.

It would attract people for miles around.

Reaching a clearing, the pair of them paused to survey the area. Tess, as ever, was saying what Joel thought.

“Oh my god.”

The lookout house was in flames. The open windows were licked with fire, sending plumes of smoke into the open air. It crackled with heat and broke through part of the roof, sending ash and smoldering wood to the ground.

Bodies were littered outside the fence line – raiders that were caught in traps, shot by a rifle, or electrocuted by the fence. Some were tangled with the barbed wire lining the walls, others were smoking from once being engulfed in flames.

And how many managed to get inside, Joel thought.

They ran for the gate, Tess putting in the code that (Y/N) gave them months before.

Joel held up his new handgun, aiming for anything that moved. His breath was steady against the erratic beating of his heart. That fear in his chest controlled only by the instinct of hunting down whoever remained of the raiding party.

They kept their heads down, guns out, and feet moving in quiet steps. They scouted the guest house, checking the storage beneath the floorboards – it was untouched. They moved on to the main house and though it was ransacked, there wasn’t anyone there.

They went towards the shops, slowing down when they spotted two more bodies outside the electronics store.

Tess gave Joel a nod, and he went to check the faces – both raiders – before spying inside the open doors of the store. He could hear the crackle of electricity, could see the vibrant sparks of an open wire. The white smoke told him the radio was probably destroyed.

The sudden swing of the café door had them spinning around with scary precision.

“Oh, fuck!” said the raider, fumbling for a gun strapped to his belt.

Joel made quick work of shooting the guy in the leg. The raider cried out, falling to his side and yelling for any other help.

Tess kept her gun out as Joel ran for the injured thief.

“Help! Help me!” the man cried, grabbing onto his thigh, blood leaking out and beginning to pool beneath him. He tried to scoot away, “No, no, man stop!”

Joel landed a punch to the raiders face. He ignored the shots fired by Tess as she took down another exiting the café.

“Where is she?” Joel muttered. He dropped his gun, using his free hands to grab the raider by the jacket, “Where is she?”

The man jerked, a trickle of blood falling from his mouth, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

Joel hit him again, “Don’t fuck with me, kid. I’m not in the mood.”

The raider looked terrified, “The girl… that lives here…”

Joel was holding him up in a sitting position, hands itching for his throat, “Where?”

“Couple of my buddies took her in the back.” He nodded towards the electronics store.

With a hard thrust of his hands, Joel slammed the man into the cobblestones of the street. Whether the impact knocked the man out or killed him, Joel didn’t care. He stood to enter the store, gun left forgotten on the ground.

“Joel!” Tess yelled, running after him.

He ignored her, barging into the store and tensing at the sound of whimpering coming from the back room.

He ran towards the sound, tearing open the door to see a sight that had the air knocked out of him.

(Y/N) sat curled in the corner of the room, hands outstretched towards the men above her, pleading them to stop. She was bruised and bloody – no longer smiling like life wasn’t hard, no longer clean with fresh flower soap.

She was terrified and hurt. A combination of things that had white noise filling Joel’s ears. He saw red as the remaining raiders turned towards him. The disgusting sound of their laughter ceased with the fire in Joel’s eyes.

Tess realized then that Joel didn’t need his gun. He didn’t need her for backup. He just went wild.

Raw instinct launched him towards the men, clobbering one and manhandling the other. He slammed one against the wall, hitting him until pain finally registered in his hand. The bloodied raider slumped to the ground, signaling to his partner to get the hell out of there.

But Joel had already turned and found the last assailant stumbling to his feet after being hit. He threw the man into the back room shelves, kicking him into the ground. He knelt over the raider and punished him with the fury that fueled Joel.

By the end Tess had a grimace on her face, a twist in her stomach that knew it would take Joel a while to come back from what he just did. She stood by (Y/N), shielding her until Joel was finished.

“(Y/N),” he rasped, ragged from the fight, “(Y/N)…” He met her on the floor, not daring to touch her yet.

Tess backed up, going outside to ensure they weren’t interrupted by any surprise raiders.

(Y/N) couldn’t control her breathing, silent tears running tracks through the ash and blood of her face. She kept her hands up, as if it were a measly last defense in saving her life.

Joel felt the fire extinguish in his head, pain blossoming across his knuckles as his hands began to shake. “(Y/N),” he tried again, “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

She finally peeked above her hands at him, “Joel…” she said breathless.

A stab of pain went through his chest, “Yeah, baby,” he said. “I’m here.”

She was hesitant but as a fresh wave of tears came over her in gratitude, she started to lean into him. And Joel grabbed onto her instantly.

He wrapped her up with his arms and drew her close, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“I thought…” she tried to say, “I thought I was dead.”

“No,” Joel cut her off, “I won’t let that happen.” He squeezed her tight to his chest, saying the things he needed to hear just as much as her. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” Because with him there beside her, she was safe. He could keep her that way.

“They used one of the oak trees,” she muttered, “They climbed and secured a rope across the fence and into the house. They waited until I was alone.”

Joel swallowed hard, putting a hand to the back of her head. “It’s over – they’re all gone.” He shielded her from the bloody mess behind them, “Let’s get you clean up. Tess and I… we’ll take care of everything.”

They managed to get (Y/N) into her house and while Tess volunteered to help with a shower and taking care of her injuries, Joel set out to correct his mistakes.

He gathered the raider bodies and burned them outside the fence line, the acrid smoke masked by the house fire. He found the stolen supplies and placed them back where they belonged. He reset the traps and reloaded the weapons. He even managed to dampen the spread of the house fire so it wouldn’t jump to the other buildings.

Late into the night, restless with the events of the day, (Y/N) asked Tess why Joel hadn’t visited her yet. He had been out all day and into the night.

Tess stayed by her side, resting in an armchair. “He’s trying to make things right,” she said, “He’s working out his frustration.”

“At me?”

“No,” Tess said warmly, “With himself. With those raiders. And… I’m not sure he can stand the sight of you hurt.”

(Y/N) laid in bed, contemplating her words. “He’s going to have to come in eventually.”

“He will,” Tess continued, “After he’s figured out how to apologize to you.”

“He doesn’t have…”

“Oh, yes he does,” Tess smiled, “He won’t rest until he feels like he deserves your forgiveness. And even then…” she shrugged her shoulders. “He’ll blame himself for you getting hurt.”

By morning (Y/N) was able to shuffle towards the window, curious at a thudding sound outside. She pulled blankets closer to her bruised body and peered apprehensively towards the still smoldering lookout house.

It was emitting nothing more than ashy white smoke, meaning the fire could no longer find anything more to burn. And behind the house, beyond the fence, was Joel.

With an axe in hand, he was chopping down the oak tree that helped the raiders get in.

~~~

{2012 – three years after the raid}

After many heated arguments and prolonged visits, the old routine came back.

Joel and Tess returned to their usual trade routes, checking on (Y/N) whenever possible. (Y/N) rebuilt her radio and kept more frequent contact with her friends. She managed to rebuild her defenses and even had Bill attempt to break in a couple times to ensure maximum security.

Her wounds healed but left scars.

She no longer beamed, but simply smiled. She no longer welcomed with open arms, but with a small wave.

Joel struggled to look at her during visits. He tried to distance himself from conversation but couldn’t deny how badly he wished her safety. He’d stand on pins and needles waiting for her to pick up the radio. He’d frantically search the town before finding her reading in the café.

He was head over heels now. Dependent on her being alive and well. And that terrified him.

He had a taste of the panic that consumed him when she was in danger. When he saw her hurt. When he thought of her dead. It made him weak in the knees.

Joel knew that if he let himself he would love her until their dying day. He’d deal with their bickering and name calling and teasing because at the end of the day, he’d kiss her and hold her close, and remember a time when it wasn’t so scary to love.

But that panic ate at him. Reminded him of a grief he couldn’t go through again.

It led him to distance himself during visits. At least he tried to. It didn’t stop him from thinking of her when he touched himself at night.

If he let himself… he could love her like she deserved.

He maneuvered around the trip wires guarding the paths to her town. He ducked under explosives and jumped over potholes.

It had been nearly seven months since he last saw her. They briefly spoke each week on the radio just to check in, but it wasn’t the same as seeing her in person.

He knew he shouldn’t be as excited as he was – knew he shouldn’t have gotten her an extra gift with his trade – knew he shouldn’t have gone out by himself while Tess handled other trades.

But he couldn’t help himself.

She was sitting on her front porch when he reached the gate.

Maybe it was the fact she never interacted with other men, but the sight of him put butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t felt a man touch her in years and the back and forth between her and Joel was putting her frustratingly close to the edge.

“Hey, there,” she called, watching him saunter over. He had one of his blue button downs on, a worn jacket on top. The corners of his lips barely upturned at her voice.

“How have you been?” he asked gruffly, taking a seat beside her.

She shrugged, “Did you find what I need?”

Joel noted her vague change of subject, “Yeah, here.” He opened his pack to retrieve a few packets of seeds and medicine.

(Y/N) became transfixed with how his hands moved, large and strong, her eyes moving along the veins and tendons working on the back of his palm.

She was just following the line of muscle along his arm when he waved the goods in front of her face.

“You okay?” he asked, holding out the medicine bottles, “You don’t need these because you’re sick, right?”

She felt warmth bloom across her cheeks, “I’m fine.” She cleared her throat, “I haven’t seen you in a while is all.”

Joel’s deep look of concern remained, “What’s the matter?”

She turned her gaze to her town, swallowing hard, “Nothing really.”

“(Y/N),” he said quietly. The baritone of his voice reverberated through her spine. His breath near her ear made her shiver. It was making him suddenly afraid. “What’s going on?”

Feeling him so close was sending goosebumps across her skin. God was she really that touch starved? He was overwhelming her without even touching her.

She stood up jerkily, “Nothing’s going on, as per usual.” She walked into her house, throwing the seed packets on the kitchen table and making for the stairs.

Joel got frantically to his feet, bewildered by her behavior. This wasn’t one of their usual arguments – something was wrong and if she kept evading his questions then he was going to get frustrated.

“Then why are you upset?” he followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom.

She went for the en suite bathroom, placing her new pills in the medicine cabinet. “I’m not.”

Joel felt that annoyance build in his gut, “You are.” He stood in the doorway, cornering her in the bathroom. “Why won’t you give me a reason?”

When she turned to see the way blocked by his broad frame, she gulped. He was bracing himself by putting both hands on the doorway and (Y/N) couldn’t help trailing her eyes along his build.

He was looking at her with a face full of concern, lined and rough with just a hint of frustration at her lack of answers.

It was hot. And (Y/N) hadn’t realized how low that heat had traveled since first seeing him walk through the gate. God she really was that touch starved. She was feeling breathless just looking at him.

Joel looked even more worried, “You sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Could you back up please?” her voice was small and nearly desperate, “Please?”

His eyebrows rose, lifting his hands in surrender and retreating for the bed, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to corner you.”

She shook her head, heat putting a flush across her chest, “You know I’ve never had a problem being alone.”

Joel looked at her, silent as he sensed a confession coming.

“I’ve always enjoyed the peace and the freedom,” she said quietly, “But there was something I didn’t expect after all these years.”

She took a step forward and Joel had the sudden urge to grab her and hold her.

“I didn’t expect to feel lonely,” she said, “But I am. I’m so lonely here by myself. And it’s driving me insane.” She took another step towards Joel.

He reacted instantly, reaching out to offer his hand. When he found hers, he pulled her closer to him, “I can help with that.”

If he let himself… he could love her fiercely. And with her looking at him with such wide, desperate eyes, he felt ready to snap his resolve in two.

He pulled her closer, having her stand between his legs, “Would you let me help you?” With his free hand he ran a few fingers up her arm and she gasped. A high breathy sound as a shiver ran through her body.

“Fuck,” Joel said, “How long has it been for you?”

She shook her head, already feeling dizzy, “Help me.”

His cock began to ache as blood flew to it. “Tell me,” he said, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Help me feel,” she whimpered, “Not feel so alone.”

He groaned deep in his chest, pulling her closer to him, “If I do, a lot of things are going to change.”

She was lightheaded with his hands pulling on her wrists, placing them on his cheeks, “God I hope so.” She held onto his face, tilting it up to where she could plant her lips against his.

He responded immediately, reaching for her waist, groaning against her lips.

It was overstimulating having him touch her, even the barest of touches on her waist had her trembling. His hand wandered up her back, exploring her body with slow, steady hands. It was making her gasp against his mouth, eyes screwed shut and lips wet with his.

“You’re so sensitive,” Joel murmured, “Don’t worry – I’ll go slow.”

He retook her lips, swallowing her unsteady breaths. He started to stand from the bed, keeping his mouth on hers. His hands went from her sides to her jaw, holding her face up to him.

As he stood, her neck began to crane to keep her lips to his, sucking in breaths whenever she could. With him at his full height, she was flush against his chest. It was evident he was beginning to strain against his pants as she felt the bulge press into her midsection.

It sent fast trickles of warmth down between her legs. “Joel,” she said breathlessly, “God, Joel… it’s so much.”

“It feels good?” he muttered, pulling away to kiss her cheek, “Too much for you?”

She shook her head, easily turning her head to give him access to her neck.

“Needy,” he grinned, kissing the soft skin of her neck, “So needy for me.”

She moaned, planting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His lips were hot and wet as he nipped and sucked the column of her throat. He teased a sensitive part above her collarbone, relishing in the gasp it produced.

He sucked until he knew she was branded with his lips. He ran his tongue across the new hurt, already planning for the next spot to bruise with his teeth.

But her legs were slowly becoming water, unable to support her as she gave way to the feeling of Joel taking care of her.

“I’ve got you,” he said into her neck, arms wrapped around her waist, “Let go, baby.”

She fell into him, and he easily laid her on the bed, eyeing her against the sheets as he wondered where to go next. He was drawn instantly to the wet patch growing on the fabric between her legs.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled deep in his throat. “You’re that wet for me, and we haven’t taken off a single piece of clothing yet.”

She responded with trying to take her shirt off, making Joel laugh.

“Don’t,” she said, “Please.”

The desperation in her voice was driving him mad. Joel took her fumbling hands and pinned them above her head with one of his own. “Let me do it.”

He bowed his head and started kissing a trail down her chest and across her shirt. She started to squirm as he kept pressing his lips down her clothed stomach and finally her clothed heat. His free hand crept up her shivering leg and began to tug at her pants.

Her wriggling made it easier as he pulled at one hip and then the other, dragging the pants away. His lips went to kiss each inch of newly exposed skin as her clothes were tugged down. He finally released his hold on her hands, eager to remove her shirt as well.

They made quick work of leaving her in nothing but her panties. Her breasts full and perked with arousal. Joel eyed her with a mouthwatering gaze. She was so desperate for his touch her back was arching off the bed in search of his hands.

“If I had known sooner,” he said, laying on her until his face was level with her chest, “I would’ve done this years ago.”

Needing something – anything – to grab onto, (Y/N) wove her fingers into his hair. He smelt of wood oil and coffee and leather, sending her into another spiral as his lips found purchase between her breasts.

He laid claim to the valley there with new bruises, trailing his tongue after his handywork. With his body pinning her down, he could feel every shiver as he kissed and nipped around her nipple. She pulled at his hair and drew a moan out of him.

“You’ve waited this long, baby,” he teased, “Just be patient.”

She cried out when his took her in his mouth, running his tongue around her nipple. His hand found her other breast, giving it the equal attention it deserved.

The sound of her sensitive cries had him rutting his clothed cock into her. He was starting to lose control of himself, years of pent up frustrated feelings getting the better of him.

“Hang on,” he said, pulling away to remove his shirt, “Nearly there. I want to help you feel good.”

“It’s so good,” she whimpered, “You’re so good to me, Joel.”

He grinned, claiming her mouth once more, “You’re trembling, sweetheart. You’ve been on the edge this whole time.”

She nodded frantically, a look of pain between her brows. She was pushing him by the shoulders – pushing him down to between her legs.

“Is it too much?” he questioned her pained expression.

“Please…” she cried to him, “I need you, Joel. I want you now.”

He knew she was already overstimulated, had been from the start. He would need to be careful about how far he pushed her before it wasn’t enjoyable anymore.

He conceded, “Okay, baby.” He ran a finger along the elastic of her underwear, “You ready for me?”

“Yes,” she pleaded, “Yes, please, god.”

Joel was painfully aware of how aching his cock was now, already spurting with precum. It was an effort not to jerk into his hand as he freed himself from his pants.

She could barely concentrate on the length of him, just inching her hips forward until he grabbed her hips in warning.

“I’ve got you,” he said, “Let me help.” He planted a kiss over her clothed heat before dragging her underwear down and off her ankles.

He groaned, pumping his cock a few times, “You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He ran his tip through her folds, covering himself in her slick, “And so wet.”

He lined up at her entrance before bracing himself above her, chest to chest and lips nearly touching. When he sunk into her an inch, they both moaned at the pressure. He wanted to see the look on her face as he pushed in another inch.

Her hands flew for his face, holding him as she adjusted to his size. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp, looking at him with pinched brows. He growled at the expression, urging himself to keep going slow. She was already wriggling with how sensitive she was.

If he dared brush her clit, she might have just screamed.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he watched the slight pain in her pinched brow. He wanted to know the instant it was from actual pain and not pleasure, “I’ll stop – just tell me.”

“No,” she pleaded, “Give it to me, please. God, Joel – fuck me.”

He rutted his hips by accident, bewitched by her words. It was going to be quick, he already knew. The pair of them desperate for love.

He started slow, rolling his hips into hers, keeping himself chest to chest with her. He wanted to be touching as much of her as he could. He wanted to hold her as she came. His lips found hers as his pace started to grow.

She was already tensing around him, every sensitive nerve in her body reaching a breaking point as her orgasm grew. She kissed him back, whimpering with every thrust of his hips.

“I’m…” she said breathlessly, “I’m so close, Joel.”

“I know, baby,” he said, rocking into her with more force, “I want you to. Give it to me.”

She ran her hands down his back, digging her nails in as her body began to seize. Joel wrapped his arms around her, holding her against the bed as she gripped the hair on the back of his head. She cried out from the overstimulation the orgasm was giving her, combined with Joel’s constant motion inside of her.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed against her neck, “You’re doing so good, baby.”

And as she trembled, still clenched tight around him, Joel felt himself start to tip over the edge.

“Fuck,” he ground out, “Fuck…” as he pulled himself out of her to spill between their bodies, hot and thick across their stomachs. They were breathing each other’s air again, pressed into each other in an embrace.

And when Joel realized she was still trembling after he calmed down, he pulled away. “Shit, baby – I’m sorry.”

She was weak with the pleasure, pained with the sensitivity, and dizzy from his body on hers. He pressed a lingering kiss to her hair and went for the bathroom, wiping his stomach clean of his cum before running a washcloth under the tap for (Y/N).

He returned quickly, sitting on the bed and carefully cleaning her skin. She squirmed when he reached between her legs and as an apology he kissed her thigh, “I’m sorry.”

She put a hand to his cheek, drawing his gaze, “I’m okay.” She smiled, “I’m better than okay.”

He looked relieved, dark brown eyes beaming with her smile. He quietly got up and retrieved some clean clothes, dressing himself and then taking his time in redressing her. Much more gentle then how he was taking them off.

It was cautious and intimate, Joel unsure of himself when it came to such acts of love. He didn’t want to overwhelm her any more than she already was.

“I knew if I let myself do this… I wouldn’t be able to turn back.” He crawled up the bed, refraining from touching her sensitive skin too much, “I’m in love with you, (Y/N). And that scares the hell out of me.”

“I know,” she said quietly, completely spent and exhausted from her shot nerves. “I love you too.”

You’d never know Joel was a hardened survivor by the way he smiled at her words. “What took us so long?”

“You’re always getting on my nerves,” she said sarcastically.

“And you’re always driving me insane,” he said in return, settling against the pillows. He looked at her now with a more innocent, inquisitive expression. “How do you feel?”

She turned her head to him, “Like I want to stay in this bed with you all day.”

He continued to smile, but his eyes were still warm, lovestruck. “I can help with that.” He got closer to her, slowly wrapping her up close to his chest. He pulled the blankets over them, asking softly, “Is this okay? You can tell me if it’s too much.”

“It’s just right,” she said, melting into his chest. “All I need is you.”

Joel kissed her hair, remembering how safe she felt in his arms. His own fears drowned out by the contented sigh escaping her.

And suddenly the world was quiet. And they were just two people that fell in love.

~~~

Masterlist

It’s written in my rules, but I’m going to write it here too. I don’t accept requested smut. I’m new to the writing and will only write it when I feel like it. Thank you.

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