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searchingforplanes · 1 month

Text

All that I do is wait for you.

Notes: I’m a feminist but not when it comes to Matty Healy, clearly. On a more serious note, I wanted to participate in the tag cleanse so, here it is!

P.s. It’s very loosely inspired by 'Batphone' by Arctic Monkeys and 'Wives and lovers' by Jack Jones bc they’ve been on repeat lately

TW: MDNI!, typos (english is not my first language), traditional gender roles/stay at home girlfriend brain rot, religious themes (I don't even know how that happened), smut

WC: 1.9k

You wait in silence on the rug of the living room, your back to the couch, your knees drawn up against your chest. Everything about this moment feels appropriate, normal, even comfortable, from the stiffness of your now cold limbs to the slight smell of smoke and ashes coming from the wood stove in the corner, the only light source that you allowed yourself to keep on.

It suits you, an almost hermit-like situation, silence as your only companion in a never ending wait for salvation.

He had called you several hours prior from an airport located in a warmer country, telling you he was on his way. You knew it. Of course you knew it. You didn't talk much during touring days but you religiously kept track of his schedule, every stop carefully listed by him on a piece of paper now attached with an apple-shaped magnet on the refrigerator door. Little boxes accompanied each one of them for you to cross; today, the last little square was ticked off.

You recall the first time you had to welcome him home after such a long time. You had felt lost. Did he need anything? A ride from the airport, a warm meal, a new set of lingerie to rip off of you? You had pondered his return so much that your mind had started to suggest you had chosen a life that couldn't belong to you. Sooner or later, you had thought, he would have realized your inadequacy to fill the spot beside him at dinners or at the pub, to fill his house, to fill the rest of his life with, maybe even his grave in the family chapel up north. Concerns, heavy like lead, had crowded your head to the point you felt the ground underneath you flex under the weight.

First times are often embarrassing, sweet or clumsy, but the first time he had returned home to you it just felt… wrong, like you couldn’t provide him with an appropriate welcome. The echo of his footsteps around the house had felt chastising and more similar to the sound of whip to the one of your lover's return.

You had spoken to him about it some time later, explaining the lack of purpose you felt laying there, waiting for him to rescue you instead of welcoming him, and he, of course, had told you not to worry, and that 'he wasn't a soldier, he was just doing his job like a normal human being'.

While you trusted him, you realized that the former suggestion resonated with you in a way that you couldn't quite comprehend at first. Maybe it was distasteful to think about his absence that way, considering that greed and gluttony would be the only real threats to his well being while on tour, but the lack of him made you feel like a military widow nonetheless. In a way, you were sharing him with an entire nation, multiple ones even, all waiting for him to offer guidance to his community. The parallel probably didn't make any sense, but it gave you a purpose.

That's why a cherry tart was in the fridge, Nick Drake was softly singing from the record player and you were now sitting facing the windows with wet hair and red lipstick on, waiting for him to turn up. A silly little routine maybe, but comforting, something that generations of awaiting women before you probably had done, the anxiety of being nice and put together for the man you love.

Suddenly your train of thought is cut off at the shower of light that fills the room. It's a sudden flash, the rays filtering through the blinds and painting your face striped before the glow of his low beams curves slightly and then dies on the driveway, replaced by a quick splash of orange.

You could recognize it anywhere.

It's like experiencing the beginning of the universe, like discovering that life exists outside these four walls, a big bang happening just outside the windows, giving you a world to finally live in. You slowly get up, counting down the twenty seconds it will take for your Adam to reach his garden of Eden.

His silhouette finally fills the glass door frame, standing straight to watch yours behind the frosted barrier. He pushes the handle and finally he’s in front of you, the first man to ever exist. It’s routine now, his hand coming behind your back to push you towards him and then coming to your waist, grabbing at the fabric of your white nightgown and crinkling it with his tan fingers, the other hand still on the handle, his lips coming down to leave a butterfly-weighted kiss at the corner of your upper lip, the gesture so delicate it could have been the night breeze.

Soon you’re in bed, the white cotton covering you giving the appearance of innocence, contrasting widely with the man kneeled at the foot of the mattress. He looks like sex personified. He has discarded his shirt on his way to the bedroom, following the flowy nightgown up the stairs, and he is now unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other keeping your foot in place, caressing the ankle with his middle finger. Without the support of the leather strip his dress pants fall just a little lower on his hips, gracing you with the spectacle of his ‘v’ shaped abdomen and his rose tattoo. You don’t dare move just yet, enjoying the way he naturally takes the lead. He unbuttons his slacks, standing up to undress himself completely, half-lidded eyes never leaving your figure. He then crawls over, lifting the nightgown just above your belly button, littering your stomach with small, wet kisses, lingering on your pelvis before crashing his tongue flat against your cunt. He caresses your thighs while he eats you out, slowly lifting your legs to circle his head with, clamping around his ears, the tips of his fingers barely grazing upon the skin, agonizingly ticklish. He slowly trails two of his fingers down and into you, curling into your sweet spot with surgical precision while his lips suck on your clit with unrelenting eagerness. You are panting furiously, swears cascading off your lips with ease and mixing with pleads of his name but he suddenly stops, raising his head just enough so that his breath is still teasing your core.

‘You need you to be a little bit louder princess, I can’t hear your sweet moans with the way you’re crushing my skull’

You desperately nod, anything to have him back there and, just as a little aid, you slide your legs down to his throat, choking him slightly and eliciting a deep groan out of him. He instantly resumes with flickers of his tongue, making sure to maintain eye contact with you while you reach your high again. You cross your ankles on his back,tightening the grip around him and cutting his blood flow just a tad more; he takes the hint, increasing the rhythm of his fingers until you’re cumming on his face, completely enveloping him for good with your limbs, his name reverberating in the air like a sinful litany.

He climbs your body in a couple of swift moves and now you’re face to face, his wet, swollen lips brushing yours, his breath hot against your cheeks. He looks quite a state. Unruly curls, sunken cheekbones, a rosy flush across his neck.

‘Welcome back, baby’

He chuckles darkly, his erection twitching against your thigh, pressing into your flesh through his boxer in search of relief. You slide your hand across his chest, almost feeling his ribs. You’d love to tear him apart just to count them, just to make sure that you haven’t dreamt it: there’s a missing one. God, if he exists, made you out of it, out of him. Maybe that’s why you’re always trying to be as close as possible to one another.

He does just so, after peeling the last piece of clothing off himself, sliding inside of you like he hadn’t left in the first place. He starts moving slowly, standing a little straighter to watch you squirm and whine.

‘What’s wrong baby? Do you want me to stop?’ He coos. He knows exactly what you want, the condescending tone not helping your situation.

‘Need- need to feel you better’

‘Is that so, princess? Did I make you too wet? Let you make it up to you, yeah?’

He finally undresses you completely, crumpling the nightgown in his hands, bottoming out completely and wiping your cunt, the friction causing a small moan out of you.

When he finally thrusts into you again, the burn is so delicious you can feel your eyes roll into your skull.

‘Is that better baby? You’re such a dirty fuck doll, so eager for this dick that you want it to feel it split you open’

You choke out a broken moan, fire licking up your limbs and feeding the warm feeling in your lower stomach.

‘Answer me princess, don’t be shy’

‘Y-Yeah I am Matty, fuck’

His thrusts get faster as a way to reward you, the effort making his smirk fade in favour of a much more fucked out expression. He’s on the edge as much as you. You can feel the pleasure reaching an impossible level of tightness in your stomach and you grab his forearm with your hand in anticipation, fingernails planting into his tattoos.

‘Keep looking at me when you cum on my cock kitten’

Matty’s request sounds more like an order you can barely follow when your orgasm actually hits you, eyelids fluttering and hands scratching his tense back, your legs twitching like a shock wave had just hit you. Matty does his best to ground you, his hands keeping your hips glued to the mattress while he keeps fucking into you.

‘Matty you can’t anymore, ‘m too overstimulated’

He coos at you, sweetly condescending, your whispered pleas almost amusing him.

‘Yes you can, baby. Just a bit more, okay? I’ll cum with you, promise’

You nod your head the best you can, feeling the tension starting to rise again when he starts to gently rub at your clit with his thumb, leaning to cover your cheeks with small kisses that contrast with his frantic thrusts.

‘Where do you want me, princess?’

It’s a rhetorical question, you both know it, but you don’t seem to be able to answer him. Even with your mouth agape, air isn’t filling your lungs, and you can only trust him to understand you when you trail a hand down to your lower stomach, resting it on the spot where you can feel the head of his cock hitting.

He smirks down at you, his expression scrunching up a second later when he feels you clenching around him.

‘I’ll fill you up good, kitten, don’t worry about it, you just have to let go. Wanna feel you milking my cock for what it’s worth’

His words finally make you crumble a second time, tears brimming your eyes while he fucks you through your orgasm until he is on the brink too, admiring your fucked out expression before releasing inside of you.

He rolls off of you, his arms coming to cradle your head while you try to regain your breathing rhythm.

‘I’m never gonna leave again’

You chuckle and slap his heaving chest.

‘You will, but I’ll wait for you. All that I do is wait for you.’

#matty healy #matty healy blurb #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy oneshot #the 1975 #matty healy smut

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lunargrapejuice · 1 year

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Can i request ayato in like an arranged marriage au

oooo okay okay this was the first thing that came to my mind and i actually freaking love it, i hope you like it too! <3

kamisato ayato x fem!reader | 2.4k + words

warnings: arraganged marriage au, hurt/comfort (reader having nightmares) mutual pining, only pronoun used is 'my lady' (used once), maybe ooc ayato??? i'm still getting used to writing him djdjdkdk

by now you had grown accustomed to the loneliness of your marriage; periods of time where you wouldn’t see your husband for what felt like long days and somehow even longer nights surrounded by silken sheets that never seem to warm with only your body within them. but what right did you have to complain? neither of you had asked for this marriage and ayato did try, even with his plate already so full with all of his duties as the yashiro commissioner.

even though they were few and far between, he had found moments in his ever busy schedule to take you out to tea or lunch and walk around the city. it did feel a bit stiff at first but in the two years you’ve been married it’s now grown more comfortable, something you look forward to and have found yourself longing for more of.

perhaps it was that longing getting the better of you that kept you from sleeping at night, that made you have little nightmares of a terrible future. or maybe it was the worry you held that ayato is working himself into the ground or how you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were truly falling in love with him. it’s ridiculous, you think. plenty of people are in love with their spouses but it felt even more ridiculous because you never thought you would be one of them, not in your arranged marriage that was more for politics rather than love.

and yet here you were, standing in the kitchen of the yashiro commission with a robe wrapped tight around you, sipping on warm chamomile tea to try to calm your anxious heart after laying in bed for hours thinking about how if your love for him were to show it would only be a burden to him just to finally fall asleep and slip into a reality where he knew of your love but it did just as you feared. surely the last thing he needed was to worry about how to deal with your feelings that he didn’t return.

“is everything okay y/n?” ayakas sudden voice in the quiet space startles you, the liquid in your cup nearly spilling over the edge when you jump in surprise. it’s so late, you didn’t expect her to still be up. “oh i’m sorry-”

“you’re fine, just surprised me was all,” you offer her a warm smile before putting your cup down and walking to the cupboard to grab another for ayaka, who looks just as tired as you feel. “couldn’t sleep?”

“i’m only now getting home actually,” she accepts the cup you offer her, golden liquid swirling with melting drops of honey. her lips tug up, happy but tired, as she takes in the calming aroma and how it might lull her to sleep right here and now. “what are you doing up so late? are you okay?” she asks again and you know you wont get anyway with not telling her. she could be quite persistent.

“i’m fine,” you lie. you certainly did not feel fine with your way your heart still ached front the way your husband looked at you in your dream, with cold indifference, when you laid your heart bare for him. “it was just a silly nightmare.”

“i see.. did you happen to tell ayato?”

“oh!” your heart jumps at the mention of his name. “uhm.. no, i- i haven’t but it’s not a big deal anyways,” you try to brush it off. believing it really wasn’t a big deal compared to everything else ayato had to take care of but ayakas frowning lips say otherwise.

it’s silent between you for a few moments, both of you drinking your tea and letting it warm your insides, seep into your tired muscles and hopefully bring you closer to getting some actual rest. it’s only when you’re getting ready to clean up before heading back to your room that ayaka speaks again.

“forgive me if it’s not my place to say,” she starts and the anticipation of what she's going to say lingers within your chest. ayaka was easily your best friend at the estate, you saw her more often than you did her brother and you adored being with her, but hardly did she comment on your relationship with him knowing how complicated it was. “no matter how big or small, i think ayato truly cares about how you’re doing and would want to know if something was wrong.”

“r-right,” you can barely get the words out with how your chest blossoms with heat and hope; hope that feels heavy, clouded in trepidation and yearning. only after not meeting her eye as you put the glasses away, taking a deep breath to calm your anxious heart, are you able to find your words again. “now let's both try to get some sleep, yeah? i’m sure you’ve had a tiring day.”

sleep was not in the cards for you tonight it seems. groaning from the slight pounding in your head while you wipe away the tears clinging to your cheeks, a gift from your shitty dreams, your eyes squint while looking towards the clock. the hands lit by the moonlight show it’s just after 3am. you can only hope ayaka is sleeping better than you and that ayato will come to bed soon, for both your sakes.

your sister in law's words linger in the back of your mind as you toss and turn in the sheets, trying to shake off the lingering bitter and heartbreaking memories from your dreams. would he really care to know that you’ve been having nightmares? and what would you even tell him if he asked about what they are? or worse, what if he already knew the reason.. there wasn’t much that got past the yashiro commissioner but perhaps his normal absence had made your overwhelming feelings for him go unnoticed, more important tasks and duties drawing his attention far away from you, which was just a whole other heartbreak of its own.

still.. despite your reservations, you slip from the sheets, too tired and upset to care about putting on your robe and instead take the blanket from the bed and wrap it around you. the soft fabric falls from your shoulders as you walk down the quiet hallway leading from your shared bedroom to the office of the commissioner on the other side of the house, the cold hardwood chilling your feet with every step.

you probably should have spent the time walking here to think about what you would say to him, what excuse you might use for being up this late and coming to see him but you're entire walk, until you’re standing at the closed door of his office, a faint light flickering through the bottom crack of the door, your thoughts were far from your reason as to why you were here, you only wanted to see him. but fuck this was a bad idea wasn’t it? if he’s up this late it’s because he’s busy.. you’re only bothering him.. and why would he care about a stupid nightmare? you were adult enough to get over it by yourself.. you had for so many nights already so why was tonight different?

ayatos mind was already far from the paperwork that sat on the desk when his attention was brought from the parchment to the shadow outside of his door. he waited patiently for a knock or the call of his name but when he looks at the clock in his office and sees the late hour, his first thought to who it could be is you. and truthfully.. he hopes it is.

he can imagine what would bring you to him this late at night and he can only hope it isn’t one of the worse options but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see you. perhaps that why you were here too..

when the figure outside his door continues to not disturb his work, the shadow slowly beginning to fade, he takes matters into his own hands. his quick on his feet, regardless of how tired he is, opening the door and calling out to you when there is no mistaking you, the moonlight illuminating your soft skin and tired eyes when you turn to meet him with surprise.

“ah- i’m sorry. i wasn’t meaning to take you from your work. i’m just heading back to bed so i wont bother you any longer,” you immediately say, sheepish and so unlike your normal smiling self and he must admit, it stings in his chest.

“you never bother me y/n,” he admits with a softness in his tone that he hadn’t used in a while, not since the last time he took you to tea but that was weeks ago.. he needed to find more time with you. would you see then that you weren’t a bother and never would be? “what are you doing up? is everything alright?”

“oh, uhm..” there's a look of contemplation on your face but something about how you smile, a bit defeated but almost.. sanguine, makes his heart palpitate oddly in his chest. “it’s silly but.. i had a nightmare..”

with quiet steps he walks over to you, reaching out to pull the sheets you have wrapped around you like a shield back over your shoulders. it’s almost always a bit cold in the estate at night.

“have you been having them a lot recently?” he asks, guiding you with a hand on your lower back into his office. “is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”

he notes how adorably surprised you seem when you look up at him, your eyes big as saucers and flicking in the candle light. “you.. you know about that?”

“i do,” of course he knew. he saw how the sheets were strewn wildly around your body when he finally made it bed, like you had tossed and turned all night, he noted the dark circles under your eyes in the moments he got to see you in passing, he heard you whimper in your sleep as he got ready for bed and felt how your body only relaxed once he joined you. “your well being isn’t something that goes unnoticed by me y/n.”

“yours doesn’t get past me either you know,” you say in a rather serious tone.

he chuckles quietly, sometimes you were more like him than he thought but he adored to see this side of you. he hopes you’ll show him more often.. “oh?” he quirks a brow at you as he settles onto the mat resting in front of his desk, grabbing your hand to guide you down with him. “are you perhaps worried for me, my lady?”

even in the dim candlelight he can see the way your cheeks burst with color at the name he called you. “and if i am?”

“then that would make us the same now, wouldn’t it? so tell me, have you been having nightmares regularly?”

he wasn’t going to let you get away with not answering him and after a moment, and a small pout that he found endearing, you finally let him in. “.. not every night but it's felt like a lot more recently.”

“is something troubling you?”

“no,” you lie and he knows it. “nothing worth mentioning at least.”

he stares at you sitting next to him, violet eyes clear despite the late hour, almost as if they can see what is going on inside your heart but you don’t look at him in return for long, breaking your gaze in favor of staring at the floor, the fingers of your free hand running over the decrotated mat at your side.

“come here,” he says, tugging at the hand of yours that he was still holding, relishing in how small it felt in comparison to his. you’ve never been reluctant to obey him when he asked you for things but still, something about how easily you scoot closer to him makes his chest swell unbelievely. “i’m afraid i have some more work to get through but you are welcome to lay your head on me until i’m finished and then we can retire back to bed together.” he motions to his lap, moving so his thighs can make a comfortable pillow for you to lay on.

but your own movements have stopped, frozen in place as if he had said something completely out of this world and you didn’t know how to react. he can only chuckle lowly in response, running his thumb over your knuckles to try to reassure you it was okay.

“come on y/n,” he smiles, comforting and welcoming but teasing all the same. “we’ve shared the same bed for a couple years now. there's no need to be shy about resting your head on my lap.”

your cheeks grow warmer at that but you don’t protest.

“okay..”

as you settle into his lap, your head a comforting weight utop his thighs, he grabs his paperwork but still ignores it in favor of telling you a story in a quiet voice, soothing and soft. “my mother would always let me lay in her lap when i had bad dreams as a child.” you stop moving, looking up at him with eyes that blink slow and tired.

“she was really amazing, wasn’t she?” you ask sweetly, voice laced with sleep.

“yes, she was.” your eyes grow even more tired when his free hand begins to run through your hair, deft and calming. “she would tell me there was no reason to fear when she was there with me and somehow she had always succeeded in keeping the nightmares away…” he stops there, not all that surprised to see you fighting off sleep in order to listen to more of him but he doesn’t continue his story of her.

after a few quiet moments, violet eyes never leaving your figure, he watches as you fall into deep sleep, nuzzling your face closer to his torso. he wonders if you know how often you cling to him at night when he finally makes it to bed and if you felt how lovingly he held you in return until the sun barely peaked from the waters of the ocean to greet him for another long day away from you, hiding feelings he hadn't decide to admit but after tonight, when you found your way to him in such a state, wanting him - maybe even needing him- he's starts to wonder if he's been a fool for not confessing sooner.

his gentle fingers caress your still warm cheek, brushing the few loose strands of hair behind your ear and soaking in how peaceful you look in his lap, he might not get any more work done at this rate. “i am much colder than my mother was but perhaps.. i can do the same for you, my love.”

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #genshin impact #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato #ayato x reader

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raainberry · 5 months

Text

Wish Upon A Star

« silly series - 7 »

Sana x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - an idea of a perfect end to a birthday getaway

wordcount - 837

A/N - IM LATE BUT IM HERE happy birthday to my beloved Sana, hopefully she never sees this but I love her! also not proofread bc im in a rush and its simply not a priority but enjoy!

Leaving a comfortable, heated restaurant to meet the ruthless winter cold outside would never put a smile on your face, but the sight of your girlfriend ahead of you sure did.

Sana sighed at the sky above your heads, waiting for you to adjust your coat but soon felt your hand sneaking to grab hers.

Her giggles resonated in the silent night, and her eyes met yours, making you forget all about the weather around you.

“What were you looking at?” You asked, leading the walk back to the cabin.

For her special day, you’d brought Sana on a small trip out of town, in the mountains away from her routine and familiar sights. That way she could relax, take a much needed break to enjoy herself along with the snow and refreshing views only nature could offer.

If only it had cooperated with her wishes, maybe she could have gotten more out of the night sky she loved so much.

“The stars, but there’s not much to look at.” She pouted, glancing back above her.

Your eyes indeed found only a few, faintly glowing through the clouds. It was a pretty sight that made you smile, and you liked to think they were trying just for her.

“At least there’s some.” You said, hoping to cheer her up. That’s when an idea popped in your brain. “Make a wish.”

Sana’s steps slowed down before her eyes found you again. Eyebrows furrowed, she wondered what could possibly have prompted you to say that. “Why?”

“You didn’t get to wish on candles yet.” You pointed out, reminiscing about the lack of them on her cake just moments ago. “Wish upon a star instead.”

“Doesn’t that only work on shooting stars?” She chuckled, feeling her heart swell in her chest. You were so ridiculously thoughtful.

“Urban legend.” You waved off, leading the walk again. “You can wish on whatever you want, it’s your birthday. Besides, it’s getting just as rare to see normal stars as it is to catch shooting ones. I like to think it makes them the same.”

Your small rant was followed by an unusual silence, making you look at her. You had to make sure she was okay, you weren’t used to her lacking words. Relief washed over you when you caught her already looking at you, a soft smile paired with eyes shining as much as she wished the sky would.

“What?” You asked, suddenly feeling a bit shy.

“I love you.” She simply said before squeezing your hand in hers, hugging your arm to have you even closer. “Thank you for everything, today and everyday.”

The sudden heartfelt words pushed you to look down at your feet, finding the need to ground yourself from how high she managed to make you feel.

“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me.” You mumbled, bringing your hands to your pockets and dragging hers with you.

It was accidental, her effect made you forget about your intertwined hands but she didn’t mind. It was cute, and at least this way her love for you wouldn’t turn into a sacrifice as the cold wind would eventually have frozen it beyond.

“I know, but I want to. Everything you do for me, you’ve never had to. I’m thankful that you do them anyway.”

“That’s because I want to.” You smiled, leaning in to catch her lips. You made sure to make your kisses extra soft, hoping she’d get everything you couldn’t put into words. “I love you too.”

Those three little words pushed her to lay one last kiss on your lips, appreciating the warmth that spread in her veins.

“So are you gonna make a wish or not?” You asked, making her smile.

“You want me to wish something that bad?”

“I’m just trying to have a wholesome moment. Make you love me a bit more. Is that a crime?” You defended, and she giggled before snuggling closer.

Her arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, making you stop in your tracks. “I love you,” she said once more, laying a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much.”

“I know. I can feel it.” You smiled. “Do you want to wish for more of me?”

“I don’t think I could handle that.” She grimaced, making you laugh. “But I do have something in mind. Can I?”

You nodded and watched with a smile on your face as she closed her eyes, wondering what she could possibly be thinking up in that head of hers.

Sana struggled to keep her own smile to herself as she grew excited at the thought of her wishes coming true.

More of this. Of you kissing her cheeks, her lips, of you spoiling her, of feeling your arms around her, holding her close enough to feel your heartbeat and hoping it would do so only for her until its last one.

More birthdays and happy memories to share with you.

That’s all Sana wished for when her eyes laid on the one glowing the most.

#sana x reader #twice x reader #twice sana #kpop x reader #twice imagines #minatozaki sana

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 11 months

Text

Playing Pretend (Part 2)

Drinks before dinner get uncomfortable- and exciting- quickly.

Roy Kent x Reader

2.1k words

Warnings: Language, alcohol, a smidge of angst because that's what happens when your sister marries your ex

Series Masterlist

“I thought the big fancy dinner was tomorrow,” Roy mumbled as he pulled a dress shirt out of his suitcase and held it up to check for wrinkles.

After settling into the room you’d be sharing for the weekend, the two of you had spent about an hour laying on the bed next to each other and reading the books you’d each brought before you informed him that it was time to get ready for dinner.

“Oh, it is,” you agreed, pulling out a dress from your own luggage. “Tonight’s just family. My parents and sisters, Jim’s parents.” You paused, looking up at Roy. “You, apparently.”

Roy rolled his eyes and tugged off the Richmond sweater he’d worn on the drive. You blushed, averting your eyes from his wooly chest to focus on the dress in your hands. “Fucking rich people,” he muttered.

A scoff escaped your lips. “Roy, you’re rich,” you reminded him. “You drive a car that costs more than I make in a year.”

“Hey, you told me you like that car.” He buttoned up his shirt and posed. “How do I look?”

You couldn’t help but melt a little as you looked at him in his black dress shirt and equally black jeans. “Perfect.” Realizing you’d been staring for a moment too long, you tightened your grip on your dress. “Be right back.” You stepped into the bathroom attached to the room you’d be sharing with Roy- something you tried not to think too hard about- and changed into the dress. Frustration crossed your mind when you realized you couldn’t quite reach the zipper. “Roy!” you called.

“What?” came his gruff voice.

You poked your head back into the bedroom. “Can you help me with the zipper?”

An expression you couldn’t quite read crossed his face. “Can’t you, I dunno, go ask your mum or your sister to help you?”

“Come on, Roy.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re supposed to be my boyfriend. This is a boyfriend job. How would it look if I go ask my mum to help me with my dress when you’re right there?”

“Fine, fine.” He crossed the room and spun you around, so your back was to him. You were sure you were imagining the shaky breath he let out and the trembling you felt as he slowly zipped up your dress. Roy had no reason to be nervous; you were just the silly kid who used to beg him to play Barbies with you and his sister.

But still, the domesticity of the moment made your heart sing a little.

“Thank you,” you hummed. You slipped on your shoes and gave a little spin. “Now, how do I look?”

His face went all soft, your favorite look in the world. “Perfect.” He held out his hand. “Ready?”

With a deep breath, you took his hand, not sure if you were more anxious about the first event of the weekend or the simple act of holding Roy Kent’s hand. Maybe a bit of both.

The walk to the drawing room felt weirdly familiar; you’d been here many times with Jim, for weddings and anniversaries and birthdays and holidays and just-for-fun. A sad part of you wondered how many times Lauren had been here. An even sadder part of you realized that she was probably sleeping in the same room you used to sleep in.

As if he could feel the sudden pang in your heart, Roy gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’m probably going to repeat myself all fucking weekend,” he whispered, “but I’m right here. I’ve got you. Don’t you fucking forget that.”

Some of the sharp pain in your chest evaporated as you squeezed back. “I know, Roy.”

“Roy! Darling!”

As soon as you stepped into the drawing room, you mother made a beeline for the two of you, throwing her arms around Roy. Your dad followed behind, eyebrows slightly raised as he gave you a small hug and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Hello,” Roy said, genuine cheer in his voice as your mother released him. He shook your dad’s hand warmly. “Hope I’m not intruding on the weekend.”

Your mum shook her head “Absolutely not. You’re always welcome with us, you know that, dear. Especially-” She shot you a look. “-if what we hear about you and our little duckling is true?”

Roy wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to himself. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”

“Well, that’s grand,” you dad assured him. “Always had a good feeling about the two of you.” He gestured towards the room. “Come on in, we’re doing the whole cocktails before dinner thing.” Your dad wrinkled his nose at you; even when you dated Jim, he was always uncomfortable with how posh Jim’s family was. However, he never said no to the chance to drink good alcohol, as evidenced by the glass in his hand.

Roy guided you to one of the elegant couches, tenderly placing a hand on your knee once you were seated beside him. Despite your agony surrounding this weekend, part of you hoped it would never end, if only so you could always have all this attention and affection from Roy.

As if determined to ruin any bit of happiness you got this dreadful weekend, your sister and Jim appeared, drinks in hand. Lauren had that plastic smile you knew she’d be wearing for the next three days.

“You two get that alone time?” she teased, shooting you a mocking wink.

You just smiled and leaned closer to Roy, treating him like the lifesaver he was. He planted a soft kiss in your hair that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Lauren,” he hummed, raising those thick eyebrows that you loved.

“Fathers prefer no kissing,” your dad chimed in with a dry chuckle. “But I can make an exception for Roy.”

Roy’s smile widened. “Appreciate it,” he laughed. He loved the way your dad treated him; even when you dated Jim, your dad treated Roy like a son. His sister had even confided in him that it was a point of contention in your relationship, what with your dad never being as warm with Jim.

Gripping his drink rather tightly, Jim gestured between the two of you. “Alright, so I got interrupted earlier. How’d this happen?”

Shit. You’d forgotten to get your story straight with Roy. The two of you had spent the whole drive up chatting about childhood memories, movies you wanted to show each other, stories from work, and even one enthusiastic duet of You Belong With Me when it came on the road trip playlist you’d had blasting from your phone. It hadn’t occurred to you to make sure the two of you knew what to say when everyone inevitably wanted to know about your “relationship”.

You prayed only Roy could see the panic in your eyes as you looked up at him. “D’you want to tell the story?” you offered.

He didn’t skip a beat. “Well, about what, two months ago, babe?” He looked down at you, and you quickly nodded in agreement. “We were hanging out, and my sister had canceled so it was just us. I took over kebabs, and we were watching His Girl Friday, this one’s favorite.”

Everything he’d said so far was true; the three of you were supposed to hang out, but Roy’s sister had backed out at the last second, so Roy came over anyway. And he’d claimed not to care what movie you watched, so you put on an old Cary Grant movie that you’d seen a million times (and Roy had been forced to watch about half a million times). It had been a perfect night, sitting next to Roy while Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell danced around their feelings before finally coming together.

Roy continued, “And I looked over and saw just how absolutely beautiful she looked, with the light from the television glowing on her face and that dreamy expression she gets when she watches old movies.” He looked down, all bashfulness, before turning his gaze to you. You were amazed by his acting. “And I just fucking asked if I could kiss her, and she said yes. So, I leaned over and…”

It was the kiss you’d waited your whole life for. His hand came up to tenderly lift your chin, tilting your face to his. His barely parted lips were soft, gentle, his beard just barely tickling your skin. Every daydream you’d ever had about Roy Kent was nothing compared to the tiny kiss that ended far too soon.

Bashfulness reappeared on Roy’s face as he cleared his throat, remembering all the eyes on the two of you. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled. “We’re still in that lovey-dovey phase where we can’t keep our hands off each other and make everyone around us want to get violently ill.” His eyes focused icily on Jim. “You remember that, don’t you Jim?

Jim nearly choked on his drink.

“With Lauren,” Roy clarified, nodding towards your sister, whose face was twisted in annoyance. “How’d you two kids meet anyway?”

“Why don’t I get you a drink, Roy?” Jim offered quickly, his face void of all color. “Beer?”

Roy’s hand was back on your knee, gripping it a bit tighter now. “Whiskey. Neat.” He turned to you, his face softening. “And you?”

Jim shook his head. “I remember,” he assured you, shoving his own drink into Lauren’s hand and heading to the small bar off to one side of the room, the bar you remembered experimenting behind with Jim and his cousins once the older folks had gone to bed. You could still taste the disgusting combinations Jim had concocted for you to try. You could still hear the laughter that had filled the room as everyone took shots. You could still feel the sloppy kisses that tasted of expensive alcohol.

Sensing the tension oozing off of you, your parents excused themselves to go talk to Jim’s parents; they didn’t exactly need introductions, considering how many times they’d met while you were dating Jim.

Always perfect in her timing, your older sister, Jen, strolled into the room, shaking you out of your wistful reminiscing. She lit up when she saw the two of you and made a beeline for you, her husband, Paul, in tow.

“Well, well, well, what have we here? And there? And every-fucking-where?” she teased.

Roy laughed and stood, wrapping his arms around your older sister. “Hello, Jenny.” He turned his attention to your brother-in-law. “Paul, how the hell are you man?”

Paul shook Roy’s hand enthusiastically, the way he always did. “Great. Clearly you’re doing quite well yourself.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I owe your dad forty quid. I had figured the two of you’d be dancing around this thing for the rest of your lives.”

“Paul!” you gasped, smacking your brother-in-law’s arm playfully. Behind closed doors, he loved to tease you about your painfully obvious attraction to Roy.

“I knew you two’d get together eventually,” Jen bragged, giving you a squeeze before you resumed your seats. “I mean, come on, we all could see the way you look at each other. Someone was bound to crack eventually.”

You let out a weak chuckle and leaned close to Roy, whose arm rested casually around your shoulders. Lauren watched you, eyes narrowed, as Jim returned. His hand shook slightly as he handed you your usual drink, the one he’d heard you order a million times. He handed Roy his whiskey and returned obediently to Lauren’s side, taking his own glass from her hand and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“We better go make sure things are ready for dinner,” Lauren hummed, grabbing Jim’s hand and pulling him out of the drawing room. You couldn’t help but notice Jim’s gaze lingering on you; neither could Roy, whose arm tightened around you.

Paul let out a low whistle. “This is going to be a tense weekend,” he muttered, raising his eyebrows at the two of you. He turned to Jen. “We should start taking bets about when this one and Jim come to blows, eh?”

Roy let out a dry chuckle and sipped his drink, relaxing slightly. “We wouldn’t want me making Lauren a widow before she’s even married, would we?”

“Play nice,” you warned him playfully, poking his nose. Fake-dating Roy felt deliciously natural. At least, when Jim and Lauren weren’t around.

“Yes, dear.” Roy’s voice was light and teasing. He leaned forward and kissed your lips again, a smidge deeper this time. The taste of his whiskey sent your head spinning. “Whatever you say.”

#roy kent playing pretend #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fluff #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff

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izzywantscheesecake · 6 months

Text

sick day-hobie brown

Today was a bad day.

You thought you had gotten rid of your sickness for good yesterday, but that was just the appetizer in the huge buffet of nausea your body was preparing especially for you.

You had begged your parents a second time to let you stay home from school, and they let you, albeit slightly skeptical about how sick you claimed to be. You hoped whatever was in you would disappear by the next day, because they told you after today they wouldn’t let you commit truancy any longer.

Nobody was in the house with you, everyone you lived with had work and their own personal things to deal with, so you had to treat yourself.

You stayed in bed all morning, not getting anything done and occasionally using your energy to get up and use the bathroom or go to the kitchen.

It hadn’t even hit you how much time had passed before it was around 3, the usual time your school ended. You wiped a bead of sweat off your forehead, annoyed about how lazy you’ve been all day even though it really wasn’t your fault.

Succumbing to your low energy, you began to feel your eyelids droop and your body relax. Just before everything went black, a sudden banging at your window caused you to jolt awake.

You shifted up in your bed, thinking the source of the noise might’ve been a squirrel or a pigeon, but a tall silhouette standing by your balcony told you otherwise.

Slowly pulling yourself out of the sheets, you walked towards your window, eyes beginning to sparkle once you recognized what was standing there.

It was your friend, Hobie Brown, from 6th form. He still had his uniform on, indicating he came to your house immediately after school ended, and he was holding about three bags, evenly spread out on each arm.

You unlocked your window, giving him access to your room, and he stepped in, his boots gruffly making contact with your wood tiled floor.

“Hey, Y/N. A little birdie told me you were feeling a bit iffy this week.”

“A bit? I’ve been bedridden all day. I only just got up to let you in,” You replied, swiftly pulling yourself under the warm sheets of your bed again.

Hobie examined you for a few seconds, before letting out a snort.

“Man, you look terrible. But not to fear, Hobie is here. And he’s brought you a whole lot of sacred scroll texts from the lost city of Atlantis.”

Hobie placed the first bag down, and took out a purple folder, which he then handed to you in a mock regal manner.

You opened the folder, and saw exactly what you expected to see in there. Three worksheets of linear algebra, and a packet containing some Shakespeare text with short response questions.

“Wow, thanks. My maths and literature homework.”

“I know, I’m amazing, right? Tell me why when I went to collect your work from maths, the teacher said she didn’t even think I attended school anymore.”

“Well, that lady’s always been quite senile. But then again, you’re constantly skiving so I also can’t blame her for thinking that. What’s in the other bags?”

“Some gifts.”

He opened the second bag, and you were delighted to see a pack of Cadbury chocolate bars, accompanied with a teddy bear and other various confectionaries.

Just as you were about to go all in, he stopped you.

“Wait. Have you eaten any real food all day?”

“No.. I’ve just been laying here.”

“I thought so.”

He opened the third and final bag, which was chicken broth, some spices, and a pack of noodles.

“Why did you..”

“I’m going to make you soup, silly. Consider me your private nurse.”

“You have too much free time. I’ll be fine, just go home.”

“Mmm, no. Any road, direct me to your kitchen. I’ve only ever seen your room.”

“It’s down the hall to the left. But I can show you, just follow m-”

You made a few attempts to stand up, and every time you did, Hobie would just gently shove you back onto the bed.

“Nuh uh. You stay here, let me take care of you.”

Eventually, you realized it was no use trying to fight him and you felt yourself sinking deeper down into the bed as you listened to him cook in the kitchen, humming some tune you’ve never heard of.

After maybe 30 minutes, Hobie re-entered your room with a tray of soup accompanied by tea. Also on the tray was a thermometer you assumed he must’ve stolen from your bathroom.

He gently placed the tray of food down, grabbing the thermometer and setting it closer to your lips.

“Okay, now open your mouth.”

“You’re serious about this nurse thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Now say, aaah,” He replied.

You opened your mouth and closed it once the thermometer was in. The both of you waited about a minute, before Hobie pulled it out of your mouth and examined the temperature.

“Holy shit, 38 degrees celsius. You’re burning up, Y/N.”

You shrugged as he put the thermometer down on your bedside table and picked up the tray of food, placing it gently in front of you.

“Start eating this while I get you a warm towel.”

The broth of the soup was better than expected, probably because Hobie also added additional seasoning. The tea was also good, you could taste a hint of honey which was helpful for your sore throat.

Hobie came back with the warm towel and placed it on your forehead to relieve congestion.

For the next hour, the two of you sat together, laughing and joking. Hobie told you about the latest drama at school that you’ve missed, and also talked about things he did over the weekend.

It was a very simple conversation, but you enjoyed it a lot, Hobie really had a way of making uninteresting things interesting.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of a car pulling up to your driveway, and immediately snapped your head up to check the time on the clock.

It read, “16:46.”

“Hobie, you gotta get out of here. My parents didn’t want anyone to show up to the house today.”

He quickly nodded, cleaning up as much as he could before unlocking the window. Before he jumped out, he gave you a glance.

“And don’t forget, that’ll be £150.”

You scoffed jokingly. “I said, get out of here.”

He smirked, before jumping out the window and taking off down the street.

As soon as Hobie was out of the picture, you heard your room door open, and your parents walked in.

They questioned the soup and tea on the counter in the kitchen, and you told them you had started to feel better, and made it for yourself.

Today might’ve actually been a good day.

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happilyhertale · 2 years

Text

Long Lost Love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader, Part 3

Summary: You are the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra. When the invitation to Aegon and Helaena's wedding came, your entire family rushes from Dragonstone to King's Landing to take part in the festivities. You haven't seen your family in King's Landing for 6 years so you are very excited...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: At the beginning none – eventually smut (uncle/niece)

Author’s note: Hello you!

This is my first fic so please be nice :) I thought I'd just try a little self-considered story. I hope you like it. The events are not entirely similar from the series

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1,7k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7a, Part 7b, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

· · ─────── ·��· ─────── · ·

Lost in thought, you make your way to your chambers. You can still feel how the wine from dinner has a pleasant effect on you. Slightly tipsy, you wander through the corridors.

These were the corridors where you spent your childhood. A time you remember fondly. It was so carefree and you didn't worry unnecessarily about what dress to wear to dinner. Your mother picked them out for you anyway. You shake your head slightly and smile at your new found habit. Even though you find it silly, you like the thought of thinking about such things because of Aemond.

Suddenly you notice that you are standing in an unfamiliar corridor. But in a way the corridor also seems familiar to you. Trapped in your thoughts, you must have taken a wrong turn. You stop, still feeling the wine. Carefully, you lean one hand against the wall to support yourself. As you look closer, you notice it. It is the corridor to Aemond's chambers.

Suddenly curiosity grabs you, after all you don't know what his chambers probably look like now. You can still remember well what his chambers looked like back then. Often you were there together, leafing through books together and giggling a lot when he told you some made-up stories. It went so far that you were never sure which story was made up and which was not. But how do you think his chambers are furnished now? Would there be a desk? You wonder if there are still so many books lying around. Maybe there's still the sofa you often lay on. And of course there will be a bed…

Startled by the sudden thought, you quickly try to push it away. With one hand still leaning against the wall, you slowly turn in the opposite direction. As quickly as you can, you walk back down the corridor. When you scurry around the corner, you are directly stopped by a soft, yet hard resistance. Your breath catches in your throat. You look up and look directly into Aemond's eye. Your faces are so close that you can feel his breath. If you stood on your toes now, your lips would touch…

You are pressed against his body and he holds you by your waist. Which is perhaps not such a bad thing, because otherwise you would have simply toppled over backwards. "Princess? Are you lost?", he asks you with a slight smirk on his face.

"Aemond… I-I'm sorry about that, and no I'm not. Why would I be, I still know the corridors here perfectly well."

"Mhmm, so you purposefully made your way to my chambers?"

Your breath catches again. Why does he have this power over you? "Yes. No, I… wanted… here… No. I just wanted to go to my chambers. And then I got distracted." From the thought of whether there is a bed in his chambers or not. You just close your eyes.

"Mhmm." Was the only thing Aemond had to say to that.

His hands on your hips weighed heavily. You could feel him moving his thumb lightly over the fabric of your dress. Those perfect fingers you were watching a moment ago are now on your hips. As you carefully open your eyes, you can see that his eye is watching your face carefully and lovingly.

You try to breathe normally. But you seem to have forgotten how breathing works. As you manage to take a breath, you notice its tantalising aroma. You smell the sweet wine of the evening and the scent of… Aemond. You would still describe it as a mixture of vanilla and a hint of orange. How long has it been since you smelled him. You unknowingly missed that smell, just as you missed Aemond.

Your eyes almost fluttered shut when you hear him exhale heavily. Now you were fully in the moment again and look him in the eye.

As you look into his eye, you see that beautiful sparkle that is so familiar to you. When you were children, you loved to do something forbidden. Most of the time, Aemond didn't have to persuade you for long to join him. That was just that spark you see in his eye now. And there you had the proof, Aemond was still there. Certainly it's different between you now, because it's a vague feeling as soon as you're near him. But he is still your Aemond.

Slowly he lowers his head, his purple gaze wandering from your face down to your cleavage. The movement is barely perceptible, almost as if he is just waiting for you to push him away. But you can't. You are breathing heavily, still pressed against his body, when you see his gaze wander. His gaze wanders back and forth, between your eyes and your cleavage.

You see how he visibly swallows, his lips slightly parted. Before you can say anything, he raises his hand. You hold your breath and carefully observe the path of his hand. He guides it to your cleavage. You feel the warmth spreading from your core. If your cheeks weren't already red, now would be the perfect time. Even though you don't really know what to do with this feeling, you enjoy being close to Aemond. Nothing has ever felt so good as being pressed against him in a corridor. The arousal that makes itself felt between your thighs almost makes you moan slightly. His hand is now on your cleavage, but he does not touch you. He gently strokes your necklace without touching your skin. He just strokes your necklace and against all reason, you wish he would touch your skin.

"The necklace is beautiful," he whispers.

"Th-thank you… My father gave it to me for my last name day."

Aemond nods slowly, still his hands on your necklace. But you pull yourself together and slowly you free yourself from his grip. "Prince Aemond… it was nice to meet you again. But I- I am going to my chambers now," with your hands you straighten the skirt of your dress.

"Mhm… what a shame, I was hoping, now that I see you here… we could just be in my chambers. Flicking through some books or something, like we used to," he smirks at you.

And there it was. The sparkle in his eyes that betrayed him. He wanted to persuade you to do something forbidden again. But you wouldn't make it that easy for him.

"That actually sounds very tempting, but actually I've had too much wine to read a book decently now. Good night Prince Aemond"

You turn around and want to leave.

"Y/N?", he says softly.

As you walk, you turn to him "Yes?"

"You don't need to call me by my title... I'm just Aemond," a smile plays around his lips.

You smile, "Good night just Aemond"

He smirks, "Good night"

At last you were at your real destination. You made it to your chambers. You lean against the closed door. Your eyes are closed, your breath still excited. He simply is just Aemond. You smile. You slowly walk into the chambers and gently start to open your dress. When you touch your hips, you could swear that you still feel his hands there. It was so tempting to feel his hands there. And as his hands moved up… If he hadn't been holding you, you would have just fallen over. You put on your nightgown and lay down in your bed. Sleeping is out of the question now. The day was far too exciting. Just the thought of Aemond warms your heart. His indescribably beautiful face. You don't mind the scar that is visible under the eye patch. It makes it even more seductive than it already is. You would like to caress the scar. It's hard for you to imagine how he feels, with a scar decorating half his face. The opportunity to be there for him at that time after this incident has been taken away from you. But if you could, you would take off his eye patch and spread tender kisses on his face. Just to show him that he is still handsome. The memory comes back with that thought. Your faces just a few inches away. You can still smell his sweet breath, feel his warmth. And you can feel that arousal between your thighs again. At the moment you want nothing more than to be with Aemond. To be in his arms and this time not out of an "accident" but because you want to be in his arms. If you were to experience this situation again now and you were pressed against his body, you would just stand on your tiptoes and kiss him gently. You slap your hands over your face. You never thought you would feel this way about him.

But Aemond was no different.

He had a shorter way to his chambers, but when he arrived he was visibly aroused. He never expected you to have such an effect on him. When you were suddenly pressed against him, something immediately stirred inside him without him being able to do anything about it. He held you by your slim hips. If he had leaned down even a little, your lips would have touched. The thought drove him wild. He also almost touched your breasts. There's really no excuse for what he did there, but he couldn't help it. He had to feel you, even if only so "superficially". Yes, he'd had a few women. He also thought he had already loved. But when he saw you today, it eclipsed any feeling he had ever felt for a woman. When he sees you, he feels like he has to take you in his arms, kiss and caress you. Just to be with you. Lying in his bed, Aemond could still feel how much you aroused him. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't experience satisfaction while thinking of you. You are a princess, a noble lady. You deserve to be treated with respect, not dignified with an act that could have come from his brother. And Aegon certainly has such thoughts. Great… that thought helps him forget his excitement about you and instead fret about how inappropriate his brother's actions are.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taglist: @leahjean @afro-hispwriter @jeyramarie @powellssaturn

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wren-kitchens · 4 months

Text

i feel like more with you

1270 words

“it’s not just kind, my dear, it’s true.” pixl says deliberately, and scott is blushing even more and honestly, it’s kind of gorgeous. wow, he should have been doing this from the start. scott frowns at him, and- really, it’s basically a pout, which, by all rights, shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. “you’re being unfair.” he says. “i’m being unfair?” pix grins, and scott huffs, laying back down. “how’s that?”

woe, fluffy weather husbands upon ye i blame juno for getting me into them (/silly)

reblogs do more than likes! if u enjoyed please reblog <3

“I don’t know how you do it.” scott says from where he’s laying on his llama—mia, pix thinks it was called.

they’ve been walking for a little while, and pix has to admit, he’s found it a little more difficult to focus on the landscape whilst scott is here than it probably should be. he’s not massively surprised, in all honesty. after all, most of their interactions seem to consist primarily of scott flirting with him relentlessly—and scott is definitely not lacking in that department.

“how I do what?” pix smiles, already knowing what’s coming. it’s flattering, okay? he’s allowed to indulge in the ‘what ifs’ if he so pleases.

scott gives a brief, vague gesture at pix, as if exasperated that he doesn’t already know. “you just walk around like that all the time, and then i’m expected to act as normal?” he scoffs. “it’s ridiculous.”

“you’re too kind.” pix says, mock-gracious even though he kind of means it. pix just had to go and tempt fate by pretending to ignore scott’s offhand flirting and now here he is. it’s fairly ironic, isn’t it?

“I still can’t believe you invited me on this walk,” scott smirks a little, but there’s a note of genuine honesty to it that makes pixl do a mental double take. “as if i’d be able to focus on the view.”

pix huffs a laugh. “I found myself thinking the same thing.” he admits, and all of a sudden, scott freezes.

in fact, scott doesn’t just freeze—he almost falls off his llama, and would have if he hadn’t been able to scramble upwards to grab the reins in time. pix watches with a dawning realisation as scott clears his throat, a pink blush beginning to dust his cheeks. no, does he- no way did pix just make scott blush.

“that- that is kind of you.” scott says, avoiding pix’s gaze.

“it’s not just kind, my dear, it’s true.” pixl says deliberately, and scott is blushing even more and honestly, it’s kind of gorgeous. wow, he should have been doing this from the start.

scott frowns at him, and- really, it’s basically a pout, which, by all rights, shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. “you’re being unfair.” he says.

“i’m being unfair?” pix grins, and scott huffs, laying back down. “how’s that?”

“because you have somehow managed to come away entirely unbothered when- oh, I don’t know, when jimmy would have been reduced to a pile of mush by now.” scott says grumpily, but there’s a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “that is unfair.”

pix raises an eyebrow, watching as scott follows the action. “you know what I find unfair?” scott nods for him to continue, and pix can’t suppress his smile when he says, “whilst I thought I was foiling your plans, you instead have made me go and fall for you.”

it’s so interesting, how scott has stopped hiding his emotions when pix is around—and so wonderful right now, because pixl can see the exact moment the words process in scott’s mind. “you- no, you’re- you’re having me on.” scott is clearly scrutinising every part of pix’s expression for any sign of deception. “you don’t.” he says, but there’s less confidence and a lot more hope.

“I do.” pix says, grinning at scott’s dumbfounded expression. “you know, I thought you were smarter than this. there are consequences that come from flirting endlessly with someone.”

“believe me, I know that much.” scott says, an almost disbelieving smile playing on his lips. he pulls on mia’s reins, and she comes to a slow stop as scott slips off her back with far more grace than pix thought anyone could manage. “can I ask you something?”

“fire away.” pixl says, a kind of warmth in his chest as he notes the fondness in scott’s eyes.

scott tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, and pix isn’t entirely sure the action was intentional. it’s cute, regardless. “may I kiss you?”

in an instant, it’s as if all the breath has been whisked from pixl’s lungs; all he can do is stare. oh- okay, he did not expect this at all. at best, he assumed scott would tease him about it, and at worst it’d be an uncomfortable walk back, but never this- never did pix think even for a moment that scott might feel the same.

scott is laughing in delight, and pixl registers dimly that he’s finally managed to fluster him. who knew? all scott had to do was mean it.

“are you alright, sweetheart?” scott grins, voice soft, and pix could get used to a lifetime of that pretty soon. “you seem a little surprised.”

“you-“ pix can’t seem to get his words in order. it’s kind of embarrassing actually—no wonder jimmy is so frustrated all the time. “i’m- you like me? like- really?”

“well, I don’t know if you noticed, but you are utterly gorgeous, and you have the most amazing personality.” scott smiles, and pix is blushing, and he might have to change his name and move to the ocean empire. yes, the sunken one. “and, oh, you should see the look on your face when you’re talking about a new artefact you found, or how you completely light up when I ask about the origins of mazelea.”

scott slips his hand into pixl’s, and- void, he looks so incredibly honest. “I will say, I didn’t expect the challenge I set for myself to end up with me falling for you so thoroughly.” he gives a huff of a laugh. “I should have expected it though. i mean, look at you.”

“oh void.” pix steps forward and buries his face in scott’s shoulder, trying to pretend he doesn’t love the way scott laughs at him. “go bother jimmy, why don’t you?”

“you’re prettier.” scott teases. “besides, I haven’t gotten an answer to my question yet.”

it takes pix a lot longer than it probably ought to for him to remember what the question even was in the first place. “what was- oh.” he faces a very pleased looking scott, and- void, pix can’t believe this is how today has turned out. “you- yes. you can.”

scott smiles, and pix feels his own mouth twitch into a shy grin as scott slides his free hand against pixl’s waist, leaning in. “good, because i’ve been imagining this for far too long now.”

pix doesn’t even have time to process that sentence before the gap between them is closed, and he is kissing scott. and- okay, you can’t really.. not hear about the rumours surrounding scott and his kissing abilities, but all of pix heard seemed at least partially exaggerated. after all, there’s no way he could be that good, right?

well- wrong, in fact. scott kisses him sweetly and softly, and pix finds himself melting into it entirely. scott cups his face, rubbing a gentle thumb against his cheek, and pix is leaning into him before he even registers the action. it’s as if scott has been somehow studying pix and calculated the exact way to kiss him in order to get him to cease functioning without even lifting a finger. it’s all pix can do to kiss back, rather than melt into a pile of very happy archaeologist mush.

when they part for breath, scott is smiling that ridiculously beautiful smile, and when they begin to kiss again, it’s pixl who leans in first.

you know what? pix thinks he’s gonna go on walks with scott a lot more often from now on.

#what is it with me and being able to write recently omg #3 oneshots in one week who am I #weather husbands #pixlriffs #scott smajor #empires s2 #empiresshipping #wren writes #empires scott #empires pixlriffs #tags are hard-

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redr0sewrites · 10 months

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Tickles, Kisses, and Aaravos

just a fluffy little blurb- this isnt edited super well, sorry lmao. hope u enjoy!! ignore the shitty title, i didnt know what to call this ajshjd

🥀CW: none, just fluff. mentions of stress and exhaustion ig?

Long, difficult days have always been something that wasn't unusual for aaravos, and yet today had proved to be exceptionally difficult. Working with Ziard and the human mages was exhausting in and of itself, however today had been especially tiresome. Some of the younger mages were, for lack of better words, incredibly irritating, and didn't seem to care about magic at all! They were preparing for an upcoming human festival within the city of Elarion, something that Aaravos himself was thinking of attending. However, the young mages seemed to only wish to get in others' way! So, when Aaravos decided to wrap up for the day and head back to your shared home, he had to admit to himself that he was excited for your embrace.

By the time he arrived to your abode, the stars already shone in the sky and the moon had long risen. You had arrived home before him, and the comforting scent of the few candles you had lit upon you arrival filled Aaravos' senses. He called out to you, throwing aside his cloak and closing the door behind him.

"I'm in here," you called from the living room. Aaravos immediately turned towards the sound of your voice and spotted you stretched across the luxurious couch as he entered the room. You looked sleepy and peaceful, as though you had been dozing before he arrived. Almost immediately, you see his disgruntled expression.

"Trouble in paradise?" You ask jokingly, lazily opening your arms and motioning for him to lay with you. Aaravos let out a sigh, and flopped down on the couch next to you, flipping over onto his back and pulling you atop him to lay on his chest as you nestled into the crook of his neck.

"It would appear so," he replied softly. "Ziards new mages are rather... irritating to say the least". You let out a chuckle at his grumbling, and pull back to admire your lovers face. Leaning in, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, then to his nose and cheeks and all across his face. Aaravos stiffens slightly at first from the sudden contact, but relaxes almost instantly.

"May i ask what your doing, little star?" He says softly as you continue to gently press your lips to his face.

"I'm kissing all of the stars on your face" you reply matter-of-factly. Aaravos nods as if this is the most reasonable explanation in the world, yet you can see the mischievous smirk on his face. You want to ask what hes up to, but dont get the chance. Suddenly, he flips you over onto your back, pinning you down into the cushions. Blinking up at him in surprise, you open your mouth to ask him what hes doing but your cut off when he suddenly begins to tickle you. Giggles fills the room as you squirm, and his soft laughter accompanies yours, Aaravos' eyes soft and adoring. He runs his hands up and down your sides, tickling you skillfully. You attempt to return the favor, but your overcome with more laughter. Eventually he stops, leaning down to rest his head against your chest to listen to his heartbeat. Both of you are flushed, and your sure that your hair is a mess. Still giggling softly, you settle down and lean to press a kiss to the top of his head. A soft smile forms on your lips as you notice his sleepy expression, and you pull him even closer. Aaravos hums softly, and leans up to whisper a goodnight softly in your ear. With a smile, you whisper a soft "goodnight" in reply and let your thoughts drift away as sleep claims both you and your lover.

Doooo miiiiiiiii tiiiiiiiiiiiiiii whyyyyy nooot meeeeeeeee AUUUUGH THIS IS SO FLUFFY IDK WHERE THIS CAME FROM I PULLED IT FROM THE CRACK OF MY ASS OR SOMETHING NORMALLY MY FLUFF IS NEVER ACTUALLY FINISHABLE AHEJDHD hes so silly😭😭😭

#aaravos x reader #aaravos tdp #aaravos fluff #aaravos #tdp #tdp s5 #tdp x reader #this is so cute wtf #the dragon prince #fluff #aaravos is so silly #this should ge me actually #tdp spoilers???#was the intro too long #this isnt edited super well #i am anxious this is like the first actual full writing thing im posting

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stevenbasic · 10 months

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GITJ Post 340: A Saturday at Melissa's. p15 (11:18 pm)

I was laying in Melissa’s lap, her hand idly stroking my hair as we were apparently waiting for someone to bring me a cup of milk. She wanted to settle my stomach before bed, and forgive me I was just so enthralled by this gorgeous young woman (and exhausted by my evening) that I didn’t complain at all. Yeah, it was emasculating, embarrassing, even infantilizing, the treatment I was receiving. Certainly it was not the actions and behavior a semi-successful, almost-middle-aged physician should be engaging in around his employees. This whole day - though for some reason I only seemed to remember bits and pieces of it, - was full of misbehavior. But,goddamnit, I’d had a tough couple months so I was, uh…allowing myself these indulgences. After my divorce, these young women were becoming my friends, my new, uh, social circle. Melissa was a simple girl, and I thought I should be able to enjoy the simple pleasures she could provide and the, um, benefits of my new friends. That’s, at least, what I was telling myself. In reality the memories of even just the last hour or so in Melissa’s bed made my skin crawl a bit. What had she just done with me?? I knew she was strong but…whoah.

Since I’d woken she’d cleaned me up, dutifully, using some of the wet wipes she kept in her side table. She’d allowed me to gather some sheets around myself, in a modesty that she would call silly. Someone was on their way up and the last thing they needed to see was their boss naked, right? Melissa was still in her thin white robe, pulled tight over her young, bulging chest.

It was Shanette that came in, finally, with mug of milk in a strangely familiar pink mug. She shut the door behind herself, the latch clicking softly. In a set of pink pajamas, decorated with red hearts, she looked our way and smiled warmly. “Are you guys ready?” she asked, and began to step towards us.

“Yes!!” Melissa sang, wriggling a bit in her seat against the headboard of her queen-sized bed. She adjusted me on her lap a bit, sitting me up a touch. I brought my hands down to the sheets, making sure I was still covered.

“I brought a nice warm cup of milk for youuuuu…!” Shanette cooed, in a little song herself that already began to indulge my deepest fantasies. Shanette, more than any of the others, embodied a maternal charm that struck some deep chords within me. They were notes so many women around me were learning to play, but Shanette knew the tune well already, and with her now being more than six feet tall at this point and built nearly as bosomy as Melissa, it made her music hard to ignore. She was, just like Melissa, a dream girl to men of this new generation, who all seemed eager to relax, regress and let mommy take over. What she and her new boyfriend did together? I shudder to think.

She handed the mug to me. It was warm, as if it had been heated for me and it read, “It’s Not Easy Being Queen” on its side…again something that jogged a memory. But I didn’t have too long to muse on Melissa’s Mom’s coffee mug collection before - one hand behind my head for support, the other under the mug - Melissa urged the milk towards my lips. Laying in her lap like I was, I was sort of in an awkward position to drink but she was here to help.

Mmmmmm it smelled nice, the warm milk, and once more a sense of deja vu hit me. I felt the sudden, unconscious urge to take a nice big drink opening my mouth wide only to be stymied before I could even get a taste.

“Little sips until it cools,” Melissa stopped me, hand taking hold of the mug from below.

“Yes hun don’t burn yourself,” Shanette agreed, looking down at us from the bedside. She and Melissa shared a glance, and it was only when I nodded in understanding that Melissa slowly released her hold on the cup.

More carefully, now, I put lips to rim, tilted the mug up, and took a tentative sip. Mmmmm wow, it tasted great. Like, somehow, just what I needed. A familiar taste, an unusual brand maybe, something with a particular type of sweetness. Immediately I wanted more. I looked up at Melissa. “I-it’s not that hot…” I said.

“Shhh,” Melissa said, her hand once again under the mug to help guide it, “Just be careful.” She let me take a sip, a drink, and then under her and Shanette’s dutiful gaze I braved a small gulp.

I spilled a bit.

“Tsk tsk,” came Melissa’s little scold, as she used the hem of her robe to dab my lips and chin. I shrank a bit in embarrassment in her lap as she took the mug in hand again.

“Do you want to help me feed it to him?” Melissa asked Shanette.

“Of course!”

“I-I’m okay..” I immediately protested, though Shanette had already begun to climb onto the bed anyway. First with one knee, then the other.

“Here why don’t we use this…” she suggested, reaching back and taking hold of the plastic straw in the old cup of milk on the nightstand leftover from last night. As she turned, twisting at the waist and causing her pajama top to bunch and tighten around her chest, I was able to appreciate the size of her big breasts. She turned back around, slid the straw into the mug of milk, and Melissa presented it to me again. I looked up at her.

“That’s right, sweetie,” Melissa urged, “Suck.”

“Suck?” I asked.

“Suck,” answered Shanette, crawling in closer to us and leaning in now, directing the straw to my lips. The little red hearts of her silken pajamas were right in front of my eyes, stretched tautly over twin swells. She was obviously braless, with the faintest hint of a nipple poking through the thin fabric. Cleavage of chocolate skin peeked out from her neckline, beckoning softly. Her buttons strained to contain her, gaps appearing between each of them with slivers of shadowed, deeper cleavage tempting me further. So much boob, but if I turned to my right I was faced with even more - Melissa’s enormous chest ballooned above me in her white robe.

And so I sucked, mmmmm, the warm milk through the straw, enjoying its creamy sweetness that tasted like a memory. When had I grown to like milk so much? Something you’ve taught me, I guess.

Suck, suck, suck. I pulled eagerly at my drink, cheeks collapsing around the straw in suction. With nowhere else to look my eyes drifted naturally from the chests of Shanette to Melissa and back again. Suck, suck, suck.

“There you go, that’s a good boy for Auntie Shanette,” Melissa would coo, when my eyes went forward to the stretched red hearts.

“…and for Melissa…” said Shanette, when I looked back and up.

“…for all of us, for me,” continued Melissa, “for your big mommy-girlfriend.”

At that, my eyes went wide, my mouth parting from around the straw. Shanette giggled, chest jiggling, and reached in to caress my cheek.

“Tell him, Missy,” she said.

Melissa giggled herself. “That’s what I want to be,” Melissa purred, fingers lazily caressing my hair, my scalp, the back of my head, “your mommy girlfriend. Do you know what that means?

“You do, don’t you?” Shanette queried. Yes, it was a common trope these days, one you read about frequently. Just a look at Urban Dictionary will tell you that a mommy-girlfriend is a woman that dates men who love being treated like an incapable child. These men are treated to home cooked meals, their clothes are bought or picked out for them, their rent is paid and food is served to them on a silver platter. When she gets home from work she uses her seemingly endless available time to listen to his problems and concerns and makes sure that her boy-man is taken care of. To me, it seemed that more and more women were desperate to find secure love and were happy providing this sort of affection to these immature men. Being fully supported and controlled by a woman can make a man feel safe, and in these weird times it’s probable that they’d never leave.

“I, uh, yeah…” I agreed, shamefacedly. Was this me? Was this her?

They both saw the confusion on my face. “I want to teach you how to accept it,” Melissa offered gently, “Shanette’s here to help.”

“Wh-wh-??” I tried, failing to really comprehend what was going on.

“Shhhh, hun,” Shanette stopped me, moving the straw back to my lips, “Drink up.”

And so, with a bit more anxiety forming on my brow, I set back to sucking. More milk, more warm milk filled my mouth and fed me sweetly. The girls, for their part, cooed and clucked down at me dreamily, surrounding me with their softness and entrancing perfumes. I knew Melissa and Shanette had been roommates in the past. Was this something they’d done before? With other men? Was this some sort of weird, intimate game of theirs?

“You’re getting close to done now, aren’t you sweetie?” Melissa asked, as the mug had grown light.

“I think he is,” answered Shanette.

“I think it’s so sexy,” continued Melissa, with a crinkled nose and dimpled smile, “watching you drink breastmilk.”

I sputtered, I goggled, I looked up at Shanette.

“Shhh shhh shh…it’s not hers..!” Melissa laughed. My eyes got even wider and shot up to her with even greater fear. “Or haha, omigod mine!”

Jesus!!! Her assurance brought me some thin relief that nonetheless quickly vaporized. What the actual fuck! What…whose…had I been drinking?!?

“It’s Katarina’s,” Melissa explained, voice calm, “And don’t worry, you’ve had some before…”

?!!? Gah what?!?!

“Don’t you remember?” Shanette giggled.

“N-n-no..!” I sputtered, “I honestly don’t!” But, wait…did I?

“You really liked it…”

“When did-?”

“Earlier tonight, sweetie,” Melissa continued patiently, “when you were a little out of sorts, you took a little taste.”

“From…?!?” Please don’t tell me that I…!

“...from a mug, this same one..!” Melissa laughed, “Don’t worry!”

“Lots of us did haha!” Shanette followed, “The girl makes enough to feed a whole family. We had to try it!”

”But, I have to say,” Melissa smiled, “you seemed the most eager, little man…”

“Oh my god…” What the?!!? What had come over me? Had I been drunk?? Why couldn’t I really recall-

“Maybe somebody took some video…”

“And Kat really liked seeing you drink it,” Shanette said, “All the other girls loved it too.”

”Especially me!” Melissa sang, joggling me on her lap, up and down, “It gives me so many fun ideas…” She giggled, she wiggled her chest at me.

I realized, laying there, how much I had become the shrunken recipient for all of their heightened maternal impulses, for all of these mommy-urges women were apparently getting everywhere. Yes, yes, this was the trend in the world, the hot new thing, and apparently I was becoming a victim of fashion. What the fuck was I supposed to do? It was, in the end, ridiculous but…jesus…so fucking hot.

Shanette and Melissa urged me to drink more.

“It’ll make you big and strong.”

“Or small and skinny.”

“Haha omigod shorter…”

“…weaker…”

“…tiny…”

“…just like we want you!! <giggle!>”

Oh, lord. Yes, they were just joking but goddddd. Suck suck suck. They were joking they were joking they were just joking but my heart beat red in my face.

Finally, I was done. The girls, apparently, were satisfied. Shanette took the mug, turned again to put it on the nightstand.

Melissa stroked my bare chest. ”So,” she asked me, “Bedtime?”

Before I could answer, though, Shanette had leaned in to whisper something to Melissa. Her eyes widened a moment later, and they both looked down at me and giggled.

What’s going on? “What’s going o-?”

Suddenly, I was forced silent as Melissa raised a finger to her lips and gave me a shushing motion from above, peering down at me in good humor. Good humor that made her eyes sparkle when she saw how easily she’d shushed me.

“Go brush your teeth,” she told me, already moving to help me sit up onto the mattress from her lap, “You can use the one in my bathroom.”

My eyes went wide again. “G-go brush my teeth? With y-your toothbrush?” I responded as I sat, repeating her instructions like a small child struggling with what he was told to do, simple as it was.

A brief laugh came from them then a bigger smile formed on Melissa’s face. “I would brush your teeth myself to make sure they’re cleaned properly,” she said, in her best house-frau voice, “but I’m holding back…for now.” She watched my face. Yes, I’m listening. “But you are to brush, floss and use mouthwash.”

“Ok, but…” I looked at Shanette, I looked down at myself, I looked across the room to where the bathroom lay. Then I looked back at Melissa. “I’m naked.”

The girls both giggled.

“It’s okay, hun,” Shanette offered, “I’ll close my eyes.” Mischief wrinkling her dimpled cheeks, she lowered her long-lashed lids and put her hands over her eyes.

“Now go. Scoot,” Melissa directed me, pulling back the sheets and exposing me as she pushed at my lower back from behind, “Go brush your teeth. It’s bedtime.”

Hopping off the mattress - god, my feet don’t even touch the floor - I jogged across the room towards Melissa’s en-suite bathroom, my half-thickened cock slapping awkwardly against my thighs.

“No peeking!” I heard Melissa scold her friend from behind me, and the two dissolved into frisky giggles.

Once in the bathroom I immediately grabbed a bath towel and wrapped it around my waist, and soon I had found her toothbrush, some toothpaste, and I was scrubbing away. It didn’t, strangely, strike me as too odd that I was using someone else’s toothbrush. Normally: yuck, right? But maybe after all I’d been through, this was just a small irregularity. In fact…can I taste you on it? It…it felt nice, using her brush.

Anyway, maybe because I thought they were watching me (they told me not to close the door) I felt extra motivated to do a good job. Brush brush brush, brush brush brush. And then - floss, floss, floss. I never flossed, but tonight I did. And then - garglegarglegargle - mouthwash! Haha, done.

I stepped back out of the bathroom, confident in my newly cleaned oral cavity, and froze. They were both kneeling on the bed, facing me, side by side. Shanette’s top was unbuttoned, Melissa’s robe undone. They were posing, enormous chests presented. I was just in a towel, and fuck I was getting hard again.

“Come here, baby,” Melissa cooed.

“We need to check…” said Shanette.

“… that you did a good job,” finished Melissa.

Slowly, I stepped towards them. They waited, each unmoving, and looked down at me when I found the mattress’ edge. It was like two impossibly built, statuesque genetic supergoddesses were gazing down from on high.

“Say ahhh!” Melissa instructed, taking my chin in hand.

I opened. “Ahhhhh….” I said, as wide as I could.

She inspected me, looking carefully into my mouth. “Do you want to see, Shanette?” She turned my head gently towards her friend.

“Ahhhhhhhh…”

Shanette nodded, also pleased. “Good job, honey.”

“Yes, good job,” Melissa agreed, “Now, are you ready to get some sleep?”

“I’m…uh…yes, ready.” Is she going to be sleeping with us?

Shanette's hand went to Melissa’s tit and she pressed her fingers into it, sinking them into soft flesh through the thin white robe. “Don’t worry hun, you’ll have her all to yourself,” she said, as Melissa giggled, “Your pillow is going to be so soft and so warm. It’ll support you just right.”

“I-I-I, uh…”

“It’ll help you nod off…”

“…and make sure you have sweet dreams all night,” Melissa continued. My eyes being clearly fixated on her left tit as it made even Shanette’s big hand look small only added to her amusement. But, she was now scootching backwards, and laying down in bed, onto her right side facing me, supporting her head with one hand. Her big breasts still bulged between the open flaps of her robe. “What kind of dreams do you want to have?”

“I bet he’s been having them already,” Shanette offered as she reached down to offer me her hand. I took it, and she helped me climb up into the tall bed.

“Maybe…” Melissa mused, watching me get settled next to her, as Shanette helped me lay, on my back, aside her. She saw that I had my hands crossed, awkwardly, on my chest, my head on a pillow and dwarfed by the boobs that looked just to my left. . “Do you, sweetie?” she asked, “Do you dream about me?”

Yes of course I do.

“Want to make those dreams come true?” Shanette said and then - getting a silent nod from Melissa - laid down on my other side, also facing me, also positioning her big soft breasts right next to my head.

I looked to my left: Melissa. I looked to my right: Shanette. Each way, all I could see was cleavage, bulging boob. Creamy, tanned. Chocolate, milky. Floral, vanilla, coconut perfumes and oils filled the warm air around my face.

Shanette also had her head supported by her hand, left elbow up on her pillow. “Does the little man need some boobie time?” she cooed.

“Shanette’s going to help me make your dreams come true,” Melissa said to me, “Just tell us what you want…”

They inched in closer to me.

Unable, now, to find the courage to do what they obviously wanted - to just turn to one of them and lose myself between their tits - I laid on my back and stared up at the ceiling. The lights were gentle.

“You look so shy, so insecure, so vulnerable…” Melissa said.

“I-I…I’m sorry…” I can’t help it.

“Shhhhh…” Shanette hushed, “…we love it.”

“We’ll protect you,” Melissa whispered.

“You’ll be safe between us,” Shanette assured, as she reached over, over my passively upturned face, and peeled Melissa’s robe open, away from her ballooning chest. I’d turned my face a bit to watch, and moaned in a shudder as a big, white left breast came to view.

“oh my god…” I groaned. It was huge, far larger than my head, skin smooth and taut with a swelling brown nipple and areola the size of my palm. A basketball, maybe? Bigger?

Without a word, Melissa’s arm reached over me in turn, peeling Shanette’s silken top, decorated with hearts, away from her chest. Also huge, also swollen, also bulging towards me with burgeoned softness her breasts were deeper in complexion than Melissa’s but a shade paler than the rest of her skin. Her nipple stood already engorged, the bumps of montgomery glands dimpling her darker areola.

“There, sweetie,” Melissa purred, as I stared into the chest of her big, tall, high school friend, “Do you feel better?’

I…ugh…I I I I turned to Melissa’s breast.

“Oh Missy,” Shanette giggled, “he can’t even talk..!”

“Yeah, he gets this way,” Melissa replied, one finger reaching out to run itself from my forehead, down the bridge of my nose. She tapped its end, playfully. “Boop! Don’t you honey?”

“I-…” I couldn’t say a word.

“Boys really are helpless when there’s a pair of tits in their face, aren’t they Missy?”

“Or two pairs!” Melissa giggled, pressing her left press down with her shoulder, causing it to squeeze and bulge towards me.

“Have you ever been with two girls with breasts bigger than your head?” Shanette asked, “Hm, Dr. J?”

“I don’t think he has, Shanette.”

“No, hm?”

“How do you like it, sweetie?” Melissa asked, raising herself up a bit on her right elbow and turning her torso more towards me. This brought her massive left breast in to squash into my face and head, along my left side.

Shanette followed suit, turning her shoulder down into me and mushing her right boob into my face. Instinctively, my body tensed and stiffened, my head sinking back down into the pillow behind me as far as it could. The twin masses of boob just followed, molding around my face, cheeks and ears until nearly all light was blotted out. I was surrounded by pillowy soft, perfumed flesh, firm and warm. Above me I heard the giggles.

“Look, we can just sandwich you in between them,” Melissa said.

“I can’t even see him anymore Missy,” laughed Shanette.

“Oh no!” came another laugh, this time Melissa’s, “my boyfriend’s disappeared!”

“It looks that way, huh?”

“What’s this like, hm sweetie? Like you’re being attacked by two big marshmallow monsters?”

“Smothered between two pillows?”

“Smooshed under two big balloons full of jelly…or eaten by two big marshmallow monsters?”

“You said that one already, silly.”

“<giggle!> oh yeah!”

Around me I felt hips turn towards me too, as the two bountiful young women closed in closer.

“Do you want me to take this towel off him?”

“Yes please,” answered Melissa.

I felt the air now on me, and now a thigh over mine.

“Ooooh Jay, isn’t this cozy?” Melissa asked, her voice coming to me through the flesh of her chest, “Do you feel safe and warm like this, your darling little head between our big breasts?”

“Just relax,” Shanette cooed, her voice also both muffled and amplified by her huge tit, “Feel our big, soft breasts against your face.”

“That’s right, sweetie, relax,” Melissa urged, as her big thigh now came over my left leg, trapping it, “Melt for us.”

The girls now giggled and cooed, squirming and squashing against me, in perfect unison. Their breasts mushed into my face, surrounding it, my mouth and jaw now opening and closing like a starveling guppy. All the air I breathed came from their skin.

“There’s a certain type of guy, a guy who loves breasts,” I heard Shanette begin saying, musing, “Guys who want to wake up with them as their first sight. Who want to take their first meal from them, spend all day held to them, surrounded by them…”

“Oooo that sounds familiar..!” I heard Melissa laugh, pressing into me playfully, “But aren’t all guys that way?”

“Seems that way these days, huh?” Shanette agreed, “But this one here is yours.”

Above me I heard a deep moan from Melissa turn into a laugh. “Omigod Shanette this is too much!”

“…And at night they want to fall asleep held to them, between them…” Shanette began to finish.

“…so small and tiny and weak…”

“…Are you that type of guy, Dr J?” she finally asked.

Was she…was she actually expecting me to answer? From down here, buried beneath boob? I was not just speechless but unable to speak.

“You are, aren’t you sweetie?” Melissa laughed, the eager exhilaration in her voice plain as day, “You’re my little boob-monkey, huh?”

That’s what you want isn’t it? Me clinging to you like an infant chimp to its mother. I couldn’t do anything but agree. I didn’t dare argue, or god forbid lie. Under the gentle weight of their breasts I slowly tried to nod.

“There you go…” Shanette purred, “…good boy. Isn’t it nice to admit how much you need them?”

“It is, right? And, isn’t it so much better when you just let people help you?” Melissa cooed, “Sometimes it’s nice to just lie there and let someone else take care of you. That’s all I want to do baby, take care of you and make you feel good. Make it nice for you.”

Boob. Boob. Everywhere boob.

“Missy let’s let him out for a minute.”

“Okay…”

Slowly, I felt the squeezing press of their tits lifting off me. Shanette’s breast, smelling of coconut oil, pulled away smoothly. But, my skin felt stuck to Melissa’s, cheek-to-tit, whether by her perspiration or mine. The heat and our sweat must have stuck us together…or there's something else happening. My face followed her breast as my head was lifted off the pillow.

“Oh my god look at that,” Shanette said.

“Yeah and he’s not trying to pull away,” Melissa commented. “Are you sweetie? Ooo look at you…”

It was true: my face remained plastered, stuck to her breast by the cheek. What was this?

“You really like my breasts, don’t you?” she giggled, “Rubbing your cheek against me like that?”

Do you think I’m doing this on purpose? Under my own strength?

“I bet it’s been so long since he’s gotten this kind of attention, Missy, and maybe he just doesn’t want to let you go!”

“Is that it, huh?” Melissa cooed down to me. Gently, she began to lower me back down again, the back of my head resting again on the pillow, cheek still stuck to her skin. “Maybe you’ve never had somebody do this for you before? Hm? Poor baby…I’m here for that now.”

The two girls clucked and purred down at me. I felt Shanette’s hand petting my hair.

“I think it’s time, Missy,” she said.

“Okay, yeah,” Melissa agreed, and then I felt Shanette’s gentle fingers holding my face and Melissa use her hand to peel her breast from my cheek. Shanette then guided me, turning me more towards Melissa.

“That’s right Missy, put your nipple right there. That’s good,” Shanette instructed, as I watched and Melissa positioned herself more fully over me. I was face to face with her big nipple. “You just lie there, hun,” she told me, “we got this.”

“Mm hm, we got this,” Melissa echoed, and inched in closer.

“Now, Missy,” Shanette said, “have him suck.”

Melissa gently worked it in until her nipple was between my lips. I’d opened my mouth already, instinctively, and my world became darker again as Melissa softly dropped to rest her huge breast onto my face. Her right hand no longer supported her head, and had slid underneath mine to cradle me to her. “Here we go, baby,” she whispered, as I closed my mouth around her.

“Just lay there and do as mommy says,” Shanette spoke.

“Suck, baby, suck,” Melissa purred on cue, “suck suck…”

“There you go baby, that’s right…” Shanette purred. I felt her hand petting me gently, caressing my arm. “This is good practice for you two,” she said.

“Mmmm I like it..!” Melissa giggled, as I had begun, earnestly, to suckle her. Her nipple was big in my mouth.

“It’s called dry-nursing,” Shanette said, “Missy…make sure he has a good latch.”

“Yeah, baby, seal on tight there,” Melissa cooed down to me, using her free left hand to reposition the weight of her breast at my face. I settled my mouth and lips around her more firmly, and continued to suck. I was keeping a slow rhythm, relaxed. My eyes just cleared the mass of her breast, and when I looked up I saw her watching me. I closed my eyes again.

“That looks good, Missy,” Shanette commended, “He’s a natural.”

“It feels nice,” Melissa agreed, gazing down at me. “I’ve been waiting for something like this, something to get us closer, start breaking down barriers.”

“That’s right, that’s good. Just relax, the two of you, bond together,” Shanette purred from behind me, “Dr. J, just let yourself drift off, think about Melissa, know how much she loves you.”

“Yes yes sweetie, I do love you, so much,” she cooed, “just keep sucking…”

I felt Shanette’s lean in, her breasts now squashing into my shoulder as she brought her lips to my right ear. “You tried Katarina’s milk earlier,” she whispered, “You liked that?”

I groaned, purrling and mewling into Melissa’s tit.

‘“Think about it, as you suck here on Missy,” she continued, her voice big and close, making my toes curl, “wouldn’t it be nice…?”

I groaned again, my whole body shivering.

“That’s right, that’s right baby,” Melissa spoke, “Suck on me. Suck on me like a hungry baby that needs milk.”

oh god oh god oh god.

“He’s doing so well, but he’s a little worked up,” Shanette now said to her friend, “A little tense.”

“Oh, sweetie, are you tense?” Melissa cooed, her voice sweet and heavy with honey as I dry-suckled her breast, “You poor thing.”

“I bet a nice orgasm would help him relax so much”, Shanette continued, indulgently, and then I felt her take hold of me. “He’s so hard.”

I stiffened, and my body jerked. There was actually some pain but the direct cause wasn’t her actions. Rather it was due to my exhausted reproductive system still trying to perform. It had never worked this much over such a short time period, and it was exhausted, tender, inside and out. I felt like, yes, I needed relief, release, but getting there might hurt.

“Oh, sweetie, shhh…” Melissa purred down to me, “Shanette…be gentle.”

You can tell, can’t you?

“He needs a mother’s touch,” Shanette cooed, and soon I sensed the scent of coconut oil, and things became slick around me, in her hand. Had Melissa helped out? Squeezed something onto me?

And now, rather than encircling me with her palm and fingers, Shanette pressed my erection against Melissa’s bare midthigh. Oh, yes, that feels nice. <suck suck suck>. She began to rub it gently and slowly against the soft, silky skin of Melissa’s tan, clean-shaven leg, the juice of oil lubricating and slippery.

“That’s nice, isn’t it?” Shanette’s hand was slick up and down my long length, Melissa’s muscular thigh warm and welcoming. I continued to suck, to suck, to suck, slowly, slowly, slowly and felt the pleasure seep into my bones. A mother’s touch. A mother’s touch. A mother’s touch.

“You feel so nice, up against my leg,” Melissa cooed, “And you’re doing such a good job sucking at my nipple.”

“Nice and slow, nice and slow,” Shanette purred, and I began to groan. I was sore, yes, but the climax was building already inside my swollen sac, making my belly tremble. “It’s okay, we’ll go at your pace…nice and gentle.”

And then Shanette began to humm, low and soothing behind me, as she pet me into Melissa’s leg . A familiar melody began to form. And then she began to sing. Quietly, at first, but there was something about it, something with a palpable magic:

“When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

Anything your heart desires

Will come to you…”

“Omigod Shanette…” Melissa praised, seemingly at a loss for words. Her voice, yes, was gorgeous. Shockingly so, in fact. The timbre, the tone, the very essence of her voice was like a casual siren song, and it covered my waking thoughts like a warm blanket. Melissa’s singing voice - she’d sung to me on our first date, in her car - was nice, also, but Shanette’s, here? It struck deep, deep, deep and I felt it close around me and my mind like a gentle hand, embracing me but also opening me up for them. My cock was throbbing now, still being rubbed into Melissa’s thigh by our songstress. She continued softly and slowly with her lullaby:

“If you wish it in your dreams oh my god if you knew what I wanted how big I want you

No request is too extreme <suck suck suck>

When you wish upon a star can it come true?

We’ll grow for you… wait what?

“Shanette that’s lovely,” Melissa gushed, as the magic of the lullaby faded and I continued to dry-nurse at her massive breast and - oh my god, on hearing that last line - I started finally to rut into Melissa’s leg, “I didn’t know you could sing.”

”I didn’t either…”

NNNNNggghhhhh….

I came, in an easy gush, onto Melissa’s leg, all my tension draining away as I nursed myself to sleep…

===============================================

Thanks again to ResistanceIsFutile for helping me through another big one

My Patreon

#growing into the job

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abbeybutnottheroad · 1 year

Text

New Year, New Mistakes

Y/N is attending her best friend’s new year eves party, where she meets Harry, who seems like quite an asshole if she should say so herself. But she goes home with him anyways, because even though he is an arrogant son of a bitch, we still like him.

Pairing: Y/N & Harry

Warnings: Annoying harry;) Smut ft. Kitchen sex. Unprotected sex! pls don’t do that irl.

Wordcount: 7902

Hope you enjoy!

And Happy New Years.

Joining the new year, a lot of people choose to live by the words “new year, new me”.

You’d lived through enough New Year Eves to know, that promise was a load of crap. Because let’s face it, nobody changes over night. No, that happens through lots of commitment, hard work, consistency, and motivation. It can take months, years, and that’s if you even change at all.

Nevertheless, you found yourself standing out on the balcony of your best friend’s apartment, unnecessarily loud music and people shouting from the party going on behind you, promising yourself just that. New year, new you.

You looked over the many city lights flickering in front of you, joined by an illuminated sky above filled with fireworks in every colour imaginable and various shapes. A glass of champagne rested in your right hand while your left clenched around the cold iron railing. You took a deep breath as you heard the countdown beginning.

“TEN, NINE, EIGHT”

This was it, the final seconds of a year you honestly thought would never end.

“SEVEN, SIX, FIVE”

The final seconds before a whole new year opened in front of you, laying like white, fresh, untread snow at your feet.

“FOUR, THREE, TWO.”

The final second before a new chance at being you.

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the many euphoric voices erupting behind you. Lifting the glass of champagne to your lips, you whispered a happy new year Y/N, before downing the whole thing.

Soon after a sudden blow came from behind, pushing you further into the railing, and two arms squeezed around your stomach, inviting you into their warm embrace.

“Happy new year, to my favourite person in the whole world.” Nora’s sweet voice whispered into your ear, before you felt a kiss on your left cheek.

“Happy new year to my second favourite person in the whole world.” You whispered back to her, chuckling when you saw the much-expected pout on her face.

“Heeey, who beat me?” she whined.

You shrugged before casually explaining. “You know no one compares to Keanu Reeves, honey. I’m sorry.”

Nora retracted herself, to stand beside you. “No, I know. I don’t know what in the world I was thinking, silly me.” she sighed defeatedly. “At least I’m second.”

“And nobody could ever beat you to that, I promise.” You smiled, kissing her on the cheek as well, returning the sweet gesture.

“What are you doing out here all alone? It’s freezing.”

It was freezing indeed, and your little red satin dress was not doing a great job at keeping you warm. But what did that matter when you at least looked hot.

“I just needed to gather my thoughts a bit, I guess.”

“I’m sorry if I ruined a moment hon, like if you just wanted to start the new year by yourself?” Nora said, grabbing your hand that was still holding the railing. You turned it so you could intertwine your fingers with hers.

“I think I more so wanted to end the old year by myself, rather than I wanted to start the new year by myself. You know your company is always welcome.”

“Yeah, I know.” She assured, squeezing your hand a bit tighter.”

“NORA, JIMMY IS THROWING UP!”

You both turned to look through the glass sliding doors that opened into the apartment. Your mutual friend Hannah was mushed up against them, banging on the glass with her hand, desperately trying to get Nora’s attention.

Nora chuckled, while slightly shaking her head, at the mentioning of her boyfriend already being sick so early in the party.

“I swear to god I should’ve made a bet with someone about this” she muttered, before making her way back into the living room.

You wished her good luck to which she turned around and blew you a kiss, closing the sliding door behind her.

You got lost in your thoughts again, enchanted by the fireworks and the champagne having gotten to your head. You failed to notice another person joining you on the balcony, until they spoke up beside you.

“You fancy a cigarette?”

You jumped a little, startled by the unexpected approach. The first thing you saw as you looked in the direction of the voice, was a worn pack of cigarettes presented in front of you by a hand with a little cross at the thumb. You looked further up, following the tuxedo covered arm all the way up to the face of the man who had appeared.

A slight smirk was visible on his lips, probably amused by your reaction. His eyes scanned over your face, as you looked back, scanning over his as well.

After a couple of seconds his right eyebrow raised, a silent reminder about the question you yet hadn’t answered, and his hand impatiently shook the pack still held out in front of him.

“Oh, no, no thank you,” You shook your head “I don’t smoke.”

“All right,” he said, putting the pack up to his mouth, grabbing one of the cigarettes between his lips, pulling it out. “Just for me then,” He muttered, making the cigarette now caught between his lips tilt slightly as he spoke. He took a lighter from his front pocket, flexing his jaw as he concentrated on lighting the smoke, a satisfying puff leaving him as he succeeded, replacing both items back in the same pocket.

You looked away from him again, needing to focus on something else, as you were sure you’d never seen anyone smoking a cigarette making it that attractive.

You were quiet for a while, as he seemed to be enjoying the view as well. The fireworks had died down a bit more, but still appeared occasionally. Your thoughts were going a mile an hour. Had he been wanting to be alone out here just like you had? Did he want you to leave but was just too polite to say it? Would it be awkward if you just left without saying anything? Should you introduce yourself?

What a great way to be a “new you” this year Y/N, not at all awkward.

You were starting to get cold, feeling yourself shaking a bit, so you figured you might as well make your way inside before you got pneumonia. But the mystery man spoke up again before you could.

“This is going to sound so cliché.” He sighed, squinting his eyes, sounding tired of himself before he’d even finished what he was going to say, but turned to look at you and continued, nonetheless.

“But I can tell you’re freezing your ass off, so if you insist on staying out here, would you at least let me offer you, my jacket?”

His kind offer took you completely by surprise and for a couple of seconds you didn’t really know what to say as you yet hadn’t comprehended his words fully.

“I, uhm, that’s… that’s very kind of you. But… won’t, wont’ you be cold then?” You stammered, unsure of how to respond to such an offer from a stranger.

He chuckled at that, almost condescendingly. “Can’t be as much as you already are love.” He took another drag of the cigarette, once again waiting impatiently for you to answer. He seemed to be very impatient in general.

Something about his attitude provoked you though, and you thought it better not to make closer relations with him. New year, new you. You’d had enough of his kind in the past, enough of controlling men, enough of bad attitudes, enough of playboys.

“I’m fine, really. Thank you though.” You gritted, sending him a forced smile, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.

He didn’t.

“That was the wrong answer.” He tutted, still a condescending tone hiding behind his words.

“Excuse me?” you turned your head to face him, no longer understanding the interaction you were having.

“See, I made it a question to be polite, because I don’t know you, but what I meant was this: You’re either going to put my jacket on, or I will, one, put it on you, for you, or two, carry you back inside.”

The pure audacity of this man was beyond you, and it honestly left you quite speechless. Who in the world did the think he was talking to you like that? You couldn’t tell if he was in fact serious or offended by your rejection. Maybe both.

“Is that a threat?” You asked, now having turned your body so you were facing him completely.

He rolled his eyes like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard, before mirroring your gesture. “Do you feel threatened?”

“More so, I feel offended. I’m a grown woman, I can make decisions for myself, thank you very much.”

“Apparently you can’t, since you’re out here about to pass out from hypothermia.” He muttered under his breath, keeping his voice annoyingly calm, even though you were about to rip your hair out from annoyance.

“And what if that is an active decision I’ve made, huh? What if I want to pass out from hypothermia?” You knew how you sounded, like a complete moron. But you needed to make a point, nonetheless.

“Well then you shouldn’t make decisions for yourself.” He hissed; a trace of frustration now distinguishable in his voice as well. He took a last puff of the cigarette before throwing it off the roof, keeping eye contact with you. “So, which will it be?”

“I think I’ll voluntarily go back inside if it means getting away from you.”

His eyebrows furrowed for only a second, before he nodded in approval.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else, just turned around and stomped unnecessarily hard with your heels, getting away from him as fast as possible. You were equally annoyed at him for ruining your idyllic new year’s mood, equally annoyed at yourself for letting him patronize you like that.

You pushed the glass door to the side, treading into the warmth of the living room. The before muffled background noise, now became loud and clear. People dancing, singing along to the music, talking, the smell of liquor, beer and a dozen different perfumes all mixed together overwhelmed your senses, a complete contrast to the cold evening air and the occasional sound of fireworks. It didn’t take long for you to conclude, that you needed a drink.

“What did you and Harry talk about?” Nora asked, standing on the other side of the kitchen island, filled with various liquor bottles and mixer options, available to make just about every cocktail you could imagine.

She had finally convinced Jimmy it would be best if he went to bed, though he was adamant on staying up until midnight, to which Nora kindly so had to explain to him, baby, midnight was half an hour ago.

“So that’s his name. You know that asshole?” You asked, greatly occupied by debating whether or not you should poor more vodka into your glass.

“Honey, it’s my party. I invited him.”

You decided to poor more.

“So… what did you talk about?” she continued when you didn’t answer. You skimmed over her face quickly, barely lifting your head.

“Oh, come on!” Curiousness was evident in her eyes as she leaned on the table with both elbows, resting her head in her hands. “You were out there for quite a while; you must have talked about something? I know him well enough to know, that he couldn’t have resisted making a move on you.”

You put the bottle of tonic down, quietly cutting a lemon in half, squeezing the juice into your cocktail and stirred it around a bit, successfully having made a vodka tonic. You took a much-craved sip before answering.

“I think he most likely was trying to get rid of me. And he succeeded big time.”

“Was he that bad?”

“Very patronizing.”

“That’s just how he is. Harry’s very… bad-tempered and used to getting his way.” She reasoned.

“Someone should tell him not to be like that then. It’s very uncharismatic.” You said, which made Nora lose her smile.

“Look, he has had a very though youth, he doesn’t always really know how to interact with people. But he always means well. I promise.”

“How do you even know him?” You asked, curious as to why she was so keen on standing up for the guy.

“He’s my boss.”

You nearly spit out your drink.

“He’s what? Have I just talked that way to your boss?” You panicked, worried that you could get your best friend fired from how you’d treated him.

“Well, he is not directly my boss, only kind of. I mean, he technically owns the company that I run. But he rarely ever interferes with anything. He’s become my friend during the past couple of months, he has been getting a lot more involved actually.”

You didn’t think your eyes could widen any more, but even so, they did.

“Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick. I talked to him like that, and he is your boss.” You whisper-yelled

While you were freaking out, Nora had walked around the kitchen island, making her way over to you. She laid a comforting hand on your back trying to get you to calm down.

“Honey, nothing justifies him disrespecting, I was just trying to give you an explanation for his behaviour because it seemed like you were looking for one.”

“Yeah, I guess I was. But I wasn’t counting on that. I should really apologize so you won’t get in trouble.” You managed to reason between erratic sips of your drink.

“No hey, you have nothing to apologize for, you didn’t know, you didn’t do anything wrong. Remember, new year, new you. Which includes to stop apologizing for things that doesn’t need to be apologized for.”

Nora had this way of being both unconditionally kind to even the biggest assholes, and simultaneously knowing how to stand up for herself (and the people she loves) in a very considerate way. She acknowledges that it isn’t always people’s own fault that they are assholes, but still doesn’t let them excuse any bad behaviour because of it. She was your role model.

“But go on, over to him. Ask him about it.” She urged, nodding in the direction of the balcony where he was still standing. He was leaning with his arms on the railing, head bend up towards the sky.

“Are you insane? I’m not going to go over to your boss and ask him about his troubled youth. Are you trying to get yourself fired?”

“I think he would love to talk to you.” She sang.

“And I think you’re drunker than I thought.”

“Suit yourself, you’re just postponing the inevitable.”

You were three vodka tonics in and had during the last hour or so subconsciously kept an eye on Harry. You weren’t trying to fool yourself; he was very pleasing to look at. And to your annoyance, something about him had piqued your interest. Maybe it was his impressive lack of communication skills, or let’s face it, his annoyingly handsome face, awakening a skin hunger within you.

You were still standing by the kitchen island with a few other people, having a clear view of the rest of the party going on in the living room. Harry was standing with a couple of guys you didn’t know but assumed worked at the same company as him and Nora. They seemed to be engaged in remote conversation while observing the game of beer pong being played.

Your eyes had only left his figure for a moment, to look down at your phone vibrating in your hand, notifying you that somebody had tagged you in a post on instagram, but when you looked up again, he was gone.

You stood bewildered for a few seconds, before a low voice whispered in your ear from behind, taking you by surprise.

“Bored?”

“God, you need to stop doing that.” You automatically clutched your hands over your chest, gazing sceptically at Harry who was now standing beside you.

“Sorry” He smiled sheepishly, an unexpectedly boyish look on his face. Was he… drunk?

“It’s okay.” You breathed, looking him over. He had taken his suit jacket off, leaving him in black trousers and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, to your surprise revealing his left arm completely covered in various tattoos.

“So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

He rolled his eyes at your incomprehension “Bored.”

“A little bit maybe.” You shrugged. The party wasn’t that wild anymore, considering it peaked about an hour ago. Nora had gone to bed already, tired from planning the gathering all day.

“Come with me then.” Harry smiled, nodding his head toward the front door of the apartment, backing a few steps away from you.

You turned to face him.

“Where are we going?” You asked, squinting your eyes the slightest, curious about his sudden invitation.

He just looked at you, still a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Clever girl.”

You sighed, an internal debate storming around in your head. And as if he could hear you, he asked, “Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You could turn out to be a psychopath and kill me.” You stated, knowing that was probably overacting a bit, but he did ask.

“I don’t need to be a psychopath to kill you.” He stated bluntly.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his apparent obliviousness to social interaction. “Was that supposed to be comforting?”

He considered for a moment, tilting his head to the side. “Did you find it comforting?”

A feeling of déjà vu overtook you, as this resembled your earlier conversation impressively much.

“Do you have any idea how annoying you are?”

“No, but if you come with me, I’ll let you educate me on the subject.” He suggested while holding out an awaiting hand for you to take, as if it was an offer, you wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Even though a part of you couldn’t help but scream that you were going to regret this, it was your first opportunity to live up to your damned “new year, new you” motto. Being more adventurous was at the top of your list for a reason. For a bit too long, you had found too much comfort in spending your nights alone on your sofa. And though there is nothing wrong with that, you found that the books you tend to get lost in all those nights, were about things just like this. Adventures, taking chances, finding romance in the least expected places, saying yes. Because there is always going to be another night you can spend alone in your pyjamas reading a book or watching a movie. But there is never going to be another night where you can say yes to the offer the man in front of you was making right now.

So, you did it. You reached out your hand, slowly laying it in his. A tingle went through your body at the feeling of his long fingers wrapping around your much smaller ones, letting him guide you to the front door of the apartment.

A pleased smile was apparent on his face, and briefly you considered changing your mind, just for the sake of provoking him and his habit of getting his way.

“Do you have a jacket?” He asked, reaching for his, which was hanging on the coat stand by the door.

“In my car.��

“Hmm,” he huffed hesitatingly. “Will you be good now, and let me give you mine then?”

“If you tell me where we’re going.” You tried to persuade, but the look on his face quickly told you, that no such thing was going to happen.

“You’re very hard to make compromises with, you know that?” You declared displeased.

“That’s because I don’t make compromises.” He grinned, satisfied with your compliance.

“How in the world do people work with you?” You asked, surprised how he could ever come to own a company, with that attitude.

“They don’t.” He stated, laying his large jacket around your shoulders, before opening the door gesturing for you to step out into the hallway first.

“They work for me.”

You still didn’t know where you were going, but you were for some reason following Harry blindly, despite his determination to withhold the destination from you, regardless of your many inquiries. You had walked for about five minutes, turning a few blocks here and there, that you didn’t recognise.

“Are you sure you aren’t cold?” You asked him again. It nearly pained you to see him walking around without a jacket on. You suggested that you could run to your car to get yours, but he said it didn’t matter.

He closed his eyes briefly, clearly annoyed by your worry about his wellbeing. You just didn’t understand how it was better that he died of hypothermia instead of you.

“Could you at least roll your sleeves down?”

“If you ask me one more time I swear to god.”

“You’re going to what? Kill me?” You teased. In the short time you’d spent together you quickly learned that tormenting him was quite fun.

“Don’t tempt me.” He warned.

“Oh, come on Harry, you’re not as intimidating as you want to seem. I bet there is a big old softie hidden beneath that exterior. Like a proper cliché.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your apparent observation. “What makes you say that?”

You held your point finger up in front of you, before stating, “First of all, your refusal to let me go anywhere outside without a jacket on, very gentleman of you even though it can seem quite patronizing. Second, if Nora likes you, you must be somewhat of a good guy. She’s very picky with who she calls friends.”

He seemed to consider your words for a moment, not immediately pleased by them.

For a few minutes neither of you said anything, you just walked in silence. The streets were unusually empty, every person in the city probably occupied by their own new years party. Occasionally you walked past someone, or a car drove by. Loud music and happy cheering also appeared from various apartments or houses along the small side streets you were wandering along.

“So, Nora told me that you’ve had a troubled youth.” It was the only subject that crossed your mind, and she had suggested that you asked him about it.

He side-glanced at your comment. “Did she now.”

“Yes. She said that’s why you can seem very bad-tempered and doesn’t know how to communicate with people.”

Okay some part of you was trying to piss him off, get the upper hand for a bit.

“Are you always this unfiltered to speak with?”

“Well, you aren’t exactly making conversation yourself, it was the only thing I could think of.”

He scoffed at your words; with a disbelieving look on his face. “Really? The only thing, you could think to talk about. Out of all the things in the world?”

You held your hands up in self-defence “Alright, maybe I am curious about the strange man I’m impulsively following in the middle of the night to God knows where. Is that so wrong?”

“I’m not a strange man.” He grumbled.

“You’re not a known man either. Not to me.”

He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t speak again either, not wanting to press him to talk about the subject if he didn’t want to.

“I did.” He admitted after a while. “I did, have a troubled youth. I went to jail for a while.” He was looking straight ahead down the road, as if he didn’t dare to turn and see your reaction.

“For what?” You asked timidly.

“It was stupid. I owed this guy some money because… well because I didn’t have a lot of money. Turns out he was a part of a gang and when he found out I couldn’t pay him back, he made me make it up to him.”

He glanced at you briefly, and you nodded for him to continue. He sighed.

“He had me do different small crimes, like selling cocaine, weed. Breaking into some houses.”

“Small crimes?”

“Compared to what he did, they were small yes. He called them the easy jobs. But somehow the cops got a sniff of him, his gang and everyone involved with them. They ransacked my apartment where they of course found drugs. Luckily, I only went to jail for a year because I testified against him. He got ten.” His shoulders fell down with the last word, like he was relieved he was done telling the story.

“How did you come to own a company then?”

His lips showed a small smile at your question. “A kind man believed that I truly wanted to get out of the mess I was in. He believed in me, which, uhm… yeah, which made me believe in myself, I guess. He was the owner of the company. He died a year ago, left it all to me.”

“Wow,” You breathed.

“Yeah, I couldn’t quite believe it myself.”

Harry slowed down, before coming to a complete halt in front of a large, white apartment building.

“We’re here.” He announced, making you turn your head from the building to him in confusion.

You didn’t know what you’d expected, but it wasn’t this.

“What is here exactly?”

“My, uhm, my apartment.” Harry shyly admitted, closely studying your face to see your reaction. Frankly you didn’t know how you even should react.

“You brought me to your apartment?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck, looking very timid. In complete contrast to the Harry, you’d met two hours ago.

You couldn’t help but smile at his foolishness. “Why didn’t you just ask me if I wanted to go home with you?”

“Would you have said yes?”

You hesitated a bit too long for him to believe that you would have agreed. But the truth was, that your mind couldn’t compose a thought coherent enough for you to even imagine the scenario of him asking you to go home with him, which made it even that harder to figure out if you would’ve in fact said yes or not.

“My point.” He stated when you still hadn’t answered.

“But how is this better? How do you know I’m not just going to turn around and walk back now?” You asked, trying to understand his supposed plan.

“First of all,” he began, looking serious as ever while holding up a finger, imitating what you had done earlier. “You’re not going to walk anywhere at this time of night. If you want to go, I will get you a cab. Second of all,” he paused, taking a step closer to you, “do you want to go?”

“No” You surprised yourself at your admission. His attitude had apparently grown on you.

The slightest smile played on his lips, the glint in his eyes had returned at his newfound confidence of your willingness to stay with him.

“I’m glad.” He nodded. The confession surprised you as it was the most gratitude, he had shown all evening.

Harry’s apartment was no smaller than huge. In size, it fitted the description of a company owner very much. In interior, not so much. It wasn’t what you’d normally expect from a young, single man either. The living room was surprisingly colorful, as opposed to the black, white, and grey colour scheme you found their apartments were usually limited to. He had a wall in the living room solely occupied by bookcases filled to the rim with books, expect for the bottom shelves which were dedicated to probably the largest collection of vinyl records you’d ever seen. The apartment was kind of messy, but in an organized and cozy way, because it didn’t look like it was because he was too lazy to clean up, it just looked like he had too many things to find room for them anywhere else.

“Would you like something?” He asked from behind you.

You turned around to see him standing with one shoulder leaning against the entrance to the kitchen.

“I have water, wine, or I can make us a drink if you want that. You can have anything you want.” He offered.

“Wine would be great.” You answered, walking over to join him in the kitchen, which was nearly as large as the living room.

“Why did you decide to take me home with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I wasn’t necessarily nice to you.”

He seemed to consider for a moment while fetching two glasses from one of the ridiculously many cupboards and opening a bottle of wine.

“Nora has talked about you a lot, she really adores you. I find you interesting… and beautiful. Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Nora talks about me?” You asked shyly, trying to ignore the compliments he just gave you. It made the butterflies in your stomach wake up. “Every. Day.” he enunciated, to emphasise just how much. “Why did you want to come with me?” He reciprocated the question.

You didn’t have to tell him it was because you found him unusually attractive since the small smile he absentmindedly had on his face while he poured you both a glass of wine, told you that he already knew that. He walked over to you with both glasses in his hands, handing you one. You appreciatively accepted it and sat yourself down on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. Harry remained standing opposite you.

“You know, the last thing I promised myself tonight, before the new year began, was that I would stop making mistakes like these. Same old mistakes.” You blurted out to him. You didn’t really know where that confession came from. Maybe it was the alcohol.

Harry froze in his actions. “I’m a mistake?”

You took a sip of wine, shrugging your shoulders. “No not you per se, I just had too many bad experiences, I guess.”

“Experiences?”

“I haven’t been that lucky with guys. I’ve had a tendency to attract idiots and selfish pricks.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, surprised by your choice of words.

“God no, I’m not calling you a selfish prick. Oh, that sounded so wrong. You’re not a selfish prick, I’m sorry. I like you, in fact, I just…I just promised myself not to go home with guys like this anymore, since it rarely has ended up being a good experience.”

“Hmm, I’ll definitely have to make up for that.” He smirked.

“It’s not your fault other guys are assholes.” You sighed, putting both your hands over your face to momentarily hide from his stare, it seemed able to look right through you and into your brain sometimes. Very invading.

Harry put his glass down on the counter and made his way over to stand in front of you. He placed his hands on your waist and turned your body in the chair to face him, tilting his head to the side.

“Y/N?” He whispered, sounding a lot more serious than seconds before, squeezing your waist lightly to get your attention. You removed your hands, making your features visible to him again and leaned your head back so you could look him properly in the eyes, a slight hint of nervousness running through you at his sudden change in demeanour.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He said, tone still so gentle that you’d had to be as close as you were to hear him clearly. Genuine concern was in his eyes.

You tilted your head to the side as if indicating that you didn’t know what he was talking about, though you had a slight suspicion.

He sighed and continued.

“On the balcony. It wasn’t a very good first impression. When you said it had felt patronizing, I…I don’t want to be like that. Men like that aren’t, they aren’t nice. So, yeah, I’m sorry for that.” He sounded out of breath as the last word left him, almost like it was physically hard for him to admit that.

“It’s okay Harry, don’t worry about it. I was pissed yeah, but now I know you didn’t mean any harm by it.” You soothed.

He looked relieved by your forgiveness, the crease between his eyebrows lessened.

“It’s just, I’m not always very good… at… expressing myself properly.”

“You don’t say.” You chuckled amused by the timid state he was in.

He huffed at your teasing. “You make it very hard to be kind to you sometimes.”

“Mmmh, what else do I make hard?” You asked clearly surprising him. A blush crept onto his cheeks making your insides do a little jump. You liked having this effect on him, liked making him flustered.

“You are going to be the death of me, you know.” He ran his hands frustratedly over his face and up through his hair. “This is not good for my ego at all. I’m apologizing and everything.”

You couldn’t help but snicker at that. “Oh please, I beg to differ! I think it’s exactly what your ego needs Mr. people don’t work with me, they work for me. Being humbled a bit could do you good.”

“I thought about something?” He changed the subject.

“What?”

“If you’re tired of making the same old mistakes, which by any means is fair, maybe I could be your new mistake then, yeah?” He charmed, undoubtedly knowing how cheesy that sounded. Nevertheless, it worked, which he undoubtedly also knew.

“I think I would like that a lot actually.”

“You would?”

“Very.”

“And you know, the way I see it, you’re technically not breaking your resolution.” A proud look was on his face, as if he had just discovered the greatest loophole of all time.

“Oh my god harry, you’re so smart. No wonder you own a company. I bet every girl just wants to fuck the shit out of you.” You feigned in a fake high pitched voice.

He squinted his eyes together in annoyance over your mocking.

“Not every girl,” he said, running his hand up and down your side. “But luckily for me, you do want to fuck the shit out me, no?” He asked, eyes sparkling with curiousness as to what your answer would be. His words send a chill down your spine.

“Something like that.” You confirmed.

His eyes glazed over with something else for a moment, concentratedly following the movement of his hand which reached up to replace a strand of your hair.

“You are really beautiful.” He said, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You’ve never seen someone go from sexual deviant to adorable puppy so quickly before.

“Why are you laughing at me?” He pouted.

“I’m not,” You assured. “But thank you, I think you’re beautiful as well.”

The sweetest, boyish smile erupted on his face, and you could’ve sworn you even saw a blush creep up on his cheeks. “Really?” He asked.

“Harry, you’re one of the prettiest human beings I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Slowly he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. All teasing had disappeared, like he was sincerely thanking you with a kiss.

In a swift second it was as if all self-discipline left both your bodies. Like that single little kiss ignited a fire within you and no amount of water was enough to put it out again before you both had burst into flames.

The kiss got more heated, your mouths opened up to each other, intertwining your tongues in a choreographed dance that seemed so natural and familiar, like you had rehearsed it for years. Your hands ran up his arms, lingering on his biceps to feel the muscles contracting underneath your palms, as he squeezed at your sides to keep you still. You ran them further up to his shoulders, behind his neck, finally finding rest in his soft curls pulling at them the slightest, making a satisfied groan escape his mouth and disappear into yours.

He ran his hand further down your side, on a determined path towards the edge of your dress. “Is this okay darling?” He asked, as his fingers found your inner thigh, drawing soothing circles with his thumb.

“Yes.” You nearly whined, fervently nodding your head for him to continue, scooting to the edge of your seat to get him closer. At your approval he moved further up your leg, towards your burning core, fingertips lightly dancing over your sensitive skin leaving goosebumps in their trail. He acted at an agonizingly slow pace, as if teasing both himself and you. A hiss left him when he felt over the small damp spot left on your panties. Finally, he pushed the fabric of your underwear aside, coming skin to skin with your damp pussy.

“Need to have you all warm and ready.” He whispered in your ear beginning to move his fingers in hypnotizing circles. One of your hands went to grip his shoulder, steadying yourself against him, otherwise you were sure you’d fall over. He reached his other arm to wrap completely around your waist, helping you staying vertical as well.

Just as he pushed a finger inside, he leaned down to kiss you again gladly swallowing down your moan. It didn’t take long for you to be wet enough for him to insert another, making you clench your legs together in pleasure.

“Does That feel good angel?” He began to thrust them into you harder, curling them at just the right angle.

“Am- amazing.” You managed to reassure between unstable breaths.

“Doing so well for me,” He soothed while those talented fingers of his were working magic with you writhing in his hold.

“Harry,” you whined not being able to take his teasing anymore.

“What is it love?”

“If… if you keep doing that, I’m-” You let out a squeak, as he moved his fingers even faster against you.

“You’re what?” He taunted, knowing exactly what you were about to say. You could just make out the cocky smirk evident on his lips.

“I’m going to come Harry, please.”

He abruptly stilled his fingers against your burning core. “Oh, I can’t have you coming just yet darling.”

You just about fell flat against his chest, completely out of breath, a noise of complete despair leaving you.

“What do I do with you now?” He pondered.

You felt like you could rip your hair out. This man was making you crazy, and he knew it. Asshole. He took a small step back to look at you and his eyes became even more overflooded with lust, as he observed the state, he’d managed to put you in.

You were still breathing heavily, and you were certain you looked completely gone already.

Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own when they impulsively started untucking his shirt from his trousers, quickly working your fingers over the many buttons.

To your great enjoyment, even more tattoos awaited underneath the shirt. Like a child opening a present, you ripped it off his shoulders, eager to explore the new skin revealed to you.

He watched you with adoration, as he let you trace your fingers over the many drawings covering his abdomen, chest, and collarbones.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked after a while, a little smile threatening on his lips.

“Very.” You answered, though without even stopping to look up at him, enchanted by the view.

“Well,” He stopped you reaching up to caress the palm of his hand over your cheek.

“I think it’s time to do something proper about that ache between your pretty little thighs angel.”

You leaned into his touch, a please automatically leaving your lips.

He showed off a cocky grin, gripping your waist again with both hands, urging you to stand. You obediently let him guide you to turn around, until you were facing the kitchen counter.

“Better get this off you now, think I’ve waited long enough to get a look at what’s hidden underneath.”

You felt him running his fingers under the two thin straps of your dress resting on each shoulder. He let them fall down the side of your arms, and you lifted your arms out of them, making the dress fall elegantly to the floor, pooling at your feet, leaving you only in a set of lace panties and your heels.

Briefly, you felt a rush of vulnerability threatening your body telling you to cover yourself up again.

But that was until you felt Harrys hands on you. He touched you so delicately, like you were a vase about to break in his hold. And it was as if with each touch, he dusted the feeling off more and more, until it was completely gone, flowing silently away in the air.

You relaxed into him, letting him caress and explore your body how he pleased. Running his hands up your bare stomach, massaging each of your breasts attentively, humming at the feeling your nipples hardening underneath his fingertips. He ran them further up, drawing along the outline of your collarbones, circling over your shoulders and down your back, lastly resting them on your ass, indulging the way it felt to squeeze it in his grasp. He wrapped the waistband of your panties around his fingers, sneaking them down your legs, letting them land right on top of your dress.

You had barely even noticed the small sounds of pleasure you’d expressed, until you felt one of his hands had unoccupied itself from your behind, coming up to delicately wrap around your throat.

“You’re making being self-disciplined very difficult on me.” His voice was hoarse, strained, sending a chill down your body.

“Then don’t be.”

His hand tightened at your words, just enough to make you a bit lightheaded.

“You’re such an eager little thing. Bet you can’t wait till you’re full of me, can you darling.”

He moved his hand around to push at the back of your neck, bending you over the counter. You unconsciously started to grind against his front, feeling the outline of his cock through his trousers, and it was absolutely sending you.

“Harry, need it,” You cried.

“I know baby, I know.” You could hear him hurrying to undo his trousers, pulling them halfway down his legs along with his underwear, too impatient to take them off all the way.

You felt him lining up behind you, running his tip between your soaked folds a few times.

You involuntarily winced at the sensitivity.

“You alright baby?” He sweetly whispered, halting the movements.

“Yes, please.”

With that affirmation he gently thrusted into you, a sensual moan erupting from deep within his chest while doing so. You could listen to that sound on repeat forever.

“You feel s-so good love, all warm and tight for me.”

He leaned over you on the counter, reaching his arms out in front you to grab your hands in his, engulfing you completely beneath him; all your senses were entirely focused on him as he filled you up.

He started rocking even harder against you, hitting that perfect spot every time.

“Fucks sake, you feel so good Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever been inside someone as delicious as you. You’re taking me so well.” He whispered in your ear, the words were going straight to your core, getting you there faster than you thought possible. One of his hands slid determinately down your body, straight to your clit, rubbing it in that perfect way. You could barely even touch yourself this good.

“I need to hear you Y/N, talk to me.”

And as much as you tried to tell him how good he made you feel, how much you loved it, how turned on you were, the man currently pounding furiously into you, had rendered you speechless. You opened your mouth hoping a coherent sentence would somehow form, but only noises of pleasure seemed able to escape your vocal cords.

“Mmmh have I made you lose your ability to talk now? Am I fucking you that good? You’ve just become a cockhungry little thing for me, is that it?”

Another filthy moan escaped you at his words. That mouth was astonishingly skilled. He could win Britain’s Got talent with that mouth.

“God love, you should see yourself. So pretty and desperate for me. I can feel you dripping down my hand, I’m making a proper mess of you.” His fingers were still teasing around your bud, shivers going down your spine every time he hit that perfect spot inside of you.

“Well, you’re making a mess of me as well darling, don’t know how I’ll ever be able to think about anything else.” The words seemed to be flowing from his mouth like a sinful waterfall.

“Yeah, that’s it, give it to me darling,” He encouraged you and began to move faster and harder, chasing his own release as well.

“I can feel you clenching around me love.”

And just like before, you squirmed and sobbed beneath him, the same satisfactory bliss beginning to take over your body once again, though this time, he didn’t stop. No, he continued, rocking you through your high. Euphoria rushed through your every vessel, every nerve, filling up your blood stream making it feel like it was about to boil over, and burst out of you.

It didn’t take much longer before he was coming as well. He squeezed his arm around your waist slowing down his pace, as you felt him spill inside of you, filling you up with every drop, until he carefully halted his movements completely.

You stayed standing like that for a while, just breathing against each other. Harry moved his head to the crook of your neck, placing small kisses of affirmation there.

You sighed beneath him at the feeling; your brain caught in a post-orgasmic bliss.

After a while he attentively turned you around in his hold.

“You’re amazing.” He said. You shook your head dismissing his compliment.

“I mean it.” He continued. “That was beyond any sex I’ve ever had.”

Blushing at his words, you hid your face in his chest, making a low chuckle erupt from him.

“Me too.” You confirmed. “It was incredible”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

An overly excited smile overtook his face, making his dimples endlessly deep. He leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up and then get to bed.” He said, pulling your hand a little to get you to follow him. But you didn’t follow.

“You want me to stay over?”

“Of course, I want you to stay over. I haven’t even tasted you yet. Figured that was a morning sex in the shower kind of thing, no?”

You pushed his chest at his teasing words, but he caught your hand instead and pulled it up to his lips, giving it a quick peck.

“Harry that’s not fair. You can’t make me wet again already after you just screwed my brains out like that.”

“Well, you’re making me hard again, just by saying that I’m making you wet, and that’s not fair either I think.” He snickered, as he tugged at your hand once again. You let yourself be dragged along this time.

“God, you’re incorrigible.”

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