#harry has way too much fun with this
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Harry and Voldemort co-parent Tom. It's hilarious.
Oh my god I cried with laughter.
Preview:
"Partners," Harry clarifies immediately, once more readjusting the stiff collar of his dress robes. "I'm not a servant or anything."
"A...partner?" one pureblood something-or-other political dude echoes, probing deeper.
Harry pauses. "Well, I suppose brother-husband does our relationship justice."
There's a pause from a wide radius around him, as people have been trying desperately these past months to understand one Marvolo Slytherin who swept his way through the political arena with ease. Considering this is the first time anyone has seen Harry or Tom in public, they were immediately mobbed when Voldemort left to go talk Dark Lord stuff with one of his followers.
"You see," Harry begins with far too much glee. "I am also a Parselmouth, of the noble Gaunt line. Marvolo is my older brother and Tom here is our son - by magical means of course." Harry laughs lightly. "You understand how important it is to keep the line pure."
Tom is already looking around for Voldemort. He catches the eye of the man and makes the subtle hand sign for 'Harry is doing a thing again, you need to stop him'.
"Why, my mother -who is also Marvolo's mother may I remind you- is the niece of our father," Harry continues with a shit eating grin on his face. "When Tom here grows up, we'll match him up with Marvolo, as is traditional." Harry leans forward like it's a secret but definitely doesn't lower his voice. "Quite the scandal but our sixteen-greats aunt, twice removed, fucked a house elf and we've been quite busy purging it from the line-"
"Harry," Voldemort says, towering over the teenager.
Harry's lips wobble until he gets himself under control but his eyes are bright as he slowly turns to look up at the man. "Oh, there you are, husband-brother."
#harry and Voldemort co-parent tom#harry has way too much fun with this#harry potter#fanfiction#comedy#crack fic
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DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game
Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter.
Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.
The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge.
And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).
And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game.
Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.
(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).
After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely).
Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.
#DPxDC#dcxdp#Danny makes a card game to save the world.#Technically he worded the ritual so that they had to ‘beat’ him as those are the most powerful barriers and most reliable.#keys can just get lost or stolen (like the one to Pariah’s Coffin)#A riddle would be useless once someone figured out the answer. Like how no one takes the sphynx seriously anymore.#(Sorry Tuck. But it’s true).#And there is NO WAY Danny is just leaving a hole open for anyone to pass through. No thank you!#So…beating him. But it’s not like Danny wanted to fight so…he edited the ritual a TINY bit. Card games are good. Much less painful too.#Danny Tucker and Sam made the most complicated card game they could imagine.#It’s based on their strategies for fighting ghosts. Capturing them in thermoses. And MUCH based on a on field battle strategy.#It often requires spontaneous thinking on the spot. So Danny? In his ELEMNT. It doubles as practice for his actual ghost battles too.#They had SO much fun making this.#Sam added an entire series of plant cards that act as traps and healing ointments and duds that just take up the field.#Tucker added legitimate hyroglyphics combined with Latin as well as English and ghost speak.#Yes. You actually have to speak that language to play. With proper pronunciation. (Amity Parker’s think the three are talking gibberish.)#I headcanon Sam and Tucker are fluent in Ghost.#Constantine WILL figure this game out SO HELP HIM!#Some of the cards also have combinations related to constellations either in name or placement on the board.#By the way the board is based on a Hexagonal summoning circle with Rhunes along the edges#And the placement of the cards on the board and on what rhune MATTERS.#Also the cards move disintegrate and have certain abilities. Think of Harry Potter Wizard Chess.#But they are normal when Danny plays at school. This is just for ✨effect✨ Against invaders.#Danny faces multiple opponents. He also halts alien invasions.#While Danny COULD stop crime on earth he’s not sure how to fight a normal human and hold back so he sticks to ghosts.#The Justice league are going crazy trying to figure out who this entity is and after deep research are convinced this is some sort of#Ancient being who has protected earth for millenia. They have paintings on ruins and everything.#Danny is not aware they think this.#Raven starts praying to Danny as if he is a god and wrangles the other Teen Titans into doing so as well. Danny is still unaware of this.#Danny is not a King or an ancient. Just a very VERY strong ghost.
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i'd love to hear your thoughts on klaasje
i love klaasje soooo much she's so interesting to me and i really love how they made her parallel harry in a lot of ways, but i think that specifically could be a separate post
one of the things that ruins me about her is like... she's so young to be in this situation. she's only 28 and she's become a fugitive from entities that she's not even sure are actually chasing her, which is a special kind of hell. in her eyes, her life is over, and it had barely begun. this wasn't even her plan, she was dragged into everything as a result of the capitalist machine: she did odd jobs until a banking firm picked her up and found out she was really good at corporate espionage, and because that was what finally gave her life stability, she stuck with it. she caused people to lose their jobs- some, their lives- and helped these larger companies destabilize smaller competitors and corner the market. she only did it a few times, but she tangibly ruined people's lives, including her own. and she clearly feels terrible about it, but she can't undo what she's done.
she came to martinaise to hide because no one cares about martinaise. she was staying in a hotel room, pretty much constantly on drugs to numb herself, fooling around with the odd resident, but she wasn't doing much to permanently establish herself- we see no evidence that she was trying to do any work or find someplace to live in the area. martinaise was never meant to be a place to start over, off the radar; it was just supposed to be a place where she could self-destruct in peace. when she tells harry that martinaise isn't the kind of place that calls the cops, that had been a deciding factor in her move there. she wanted that- she wanted a place hostile to people asking questions, hostile to anyone with an outside agenda. she knew that even if the residents wouldn't be particularly sympathetic to her situation, their outright hatred of outside enforcement would go a long way towards keeping her hidden, and her looks and charm and manipulation could fill in the gaps. she wanted to stop looking over her shoulder. she thought she could finally stop causing harm, and then lely gets killed and she thinks it's because of her, and because she leaves before the end of the case (or gets arrested), she *may never get to find out that it wasn't*. (yes, you can argue that dros killed lely because he was obsessed with klaasje so it's ""her fault"", which is how klaasje would probably see it if/when she found out, but it's NOT klaasje's fault. it was not something she wanted or intentionally did or even knew about. she is not to blame for dros' obsession.)
she's manipulative and a chronic liar and she'll throw anyone under the bus to save her own skin, and she'll feel bad about it later, but she won't hesitate to do it again. as we see her, she's deeply selfish: the things she talks about, she talks about in the context of how it serves her. the freedom of revachol, for example, she brings up because in a free revachol she wouldn't be extradited, not necessarily because she has some great love for the city. i think she shares some of harry's ability to know what buttons to push to get people to do what she wants: she'll exploit anything she can to throw harry off her. disco, his attraction to her, his love for the city, potentially his hatred of capitalism and/or the moralintern- she'll grab anything she can find and twist until he lets her go. and here's the thing: we're seeing all these traits when she's at her worst. she watched a man she liked be murdered right on top of her while she was already paranoid that extremely powerful people were out to get her, cracked under the stress of watching him rot outside her window and got the cops involved, then immediately realized her mistake and tried her hardest to slither out of her own mess just one last time. as much as we can joke about her being a girlboss and all that, she's a terrified, emotionally scarred young woman who (rightfully!) has NO idea how to handle the situation she finds herself in. and ruby's immediate fear of harry- so intense that she, the ex-madre drug runner and current union thug, immediately ran and hid upon hearing of his arrival- couldn't have helped reassure her. we can say all of these things about her, and i wouldn't say anyone is wrong to dislike her, but i think it's important to view her through a sympathetic lens if you want to truly understand her.
all of this kinda boils down to the fact that she's become a creature of fear. if she had a signature skill i would argue that it would be half light, or something like it. everything she's doing in the game, she's doing for self preservation. even the overwhelming amount of *partying* is just fear management. and she's good at hiding it at first, but the more you press her the more you watch her break down. she's traumatized. her wounds are freshly reopened. she's scared. of course she's scared: you're a cop with a horrible reputation and she's a fugitive who was the only witness to a convoluted murder, and the murder happened to be of a man she really liked, if only briefly. you'll have to forgive her if she's not squeaky clean. it's hard to be, in revachol.
#klaasje amandou#disco elysium#she mirrors harry in the sense that klaasje has hurt people but nobody here knows her transgressions except herself#whereas harry has hurt people and EVERYONE knows what he's done except himself#we get two perspectives on how this affects a person. one with almost strictly internal consequences and one with almost strictly external#we have no idea who klaasje was before the corporate job#she was a roller skating instructor. a secretary. a receptionist. a fan of oranjese literature.#and we will never really know those sides of her.#here in martinaise she's a shadow of the things that are haunting her and not much else#and so is harry!#in another world maybe they'd be good company for each other. they can definitely relate in some ways#but only in the next world. as new people. it's too late for them here#kiwipost#THANKS FOR THE ASK THIS WAS SO FUN#PLEAASSSE COME INTO MY INBOX AND ASK FOR THIS KIND OF STUFF I LOVE IT#ask#ka meta
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Alphard: I had a terrible day today.
Voldemort: Do you need me to kill someone for you?
Alphard: I definitely do not need that.
Voldemort: Can I kill someone for you?
Alphard: No!
#tom has way too much fun trolling him#crack#tom riddle/alphard black#humor#Harry Potter#Alphard Black#Tom Riddle#alphard black/tom riddle#Alphalord#oh god i've gotten attached to the shipname. someone send help#Voldemort#random musings
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St Voyager - Ex Post Facto
“Maybe I kill myself slowly because I don’t have the courage to do it all at once.”
#I love when Tuvok & Janeway stare silently at each other as a response to something#I also love how the dog in this episode is just a regular earth dog that they call a dog#the only thing remotely 'alien' about it is that its hair is a little wild HEHEH they didnt even try#at least give it a silly name~!!!#'This is a yarnool.' (it looks really similar to a dog) 'I know not what a d o g is! how curious!'#very fun episode I love the noir vibes and the design of the apartment#tuvok saying 'it's rare to find someone as dispassionate as we(vulcans) are' absolutely a dig....and her 'I bet she's a FINE dispassionate#woman :)' ....I liked their interaction#it reminded me of that tiktok audio#'we go by tall grande and venti here.../most/ people know that.' (do I look like most people?) 'absolutely not <3'#the quote is actually 'maybe I kill myself slowly because I dont have the courage to do it quickly' but I don't like slowly-quickly#it sounds too samey#Harry isn't in this episode as much as these screenshots might suggest but I like him so he is here#He has a weirdly stoic energy in this one but I assume it comes from uhhhm.....worry or anger or something idk#it's stressful#st voyager#ex post facto#star trek#episode scrapbook#the way harry & tom stare at her with SUCH confusion after she feeds her dog meat is so funny to me#WHAT is the emotion of that scene??? <- guy who's bad with things like that#it's david lynch levels of incomprehensible to me but I like that <3
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Scene in the Jerusalem AU that is just Sadık mentally but out loud going through the pilgrims again to Dilan and lamenting that their hostage isn't one of the cute ones. Similiar vibes to the Michele and twins scene I'll work on in a few days.
#beablabbers#Dolco is out because pretty face but vile personality. He doesn't need to lose fingers for a pretty face. Also pout's ugly.#I think Franci is too much of a mirror. He likes a manly man but obnoxious and curious macho is not his ballpark.#He needs to be the seducer not the seduced in such a way. NEXT! Now Charlie just isn't his type cuz ... eh.#Too pale too unrefined. He'll do in the end because he turns out to be a fine knight but nothing in that face is appealing.#Harry looks like a kicked in cellar window. Fabio minds his own business and also lacks all spice to our hothead.#HOWEVER ... Gabriella ... Oh that's a beauty not marred by her brother's filthy humors. She's proud but happy.#But also has such a spine and puts up such a fight that it'd be a joy to talk with her. Oh yes.#And then you have the other three fraidy cats with pretty faces who are good at fluttering eyelashes which he LOVES bc egomaniac.#But also have enough feistyness to be fun at the table and in the pillows. Of course talking about Miche Feli and Lovi.#Dilan groans at this but endures it until Havva comes in with the worst mood ever and asks what they talked about.#So they quickly lie and switch to ACTUAL important matters.#storie nostre#sadık#dilan
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Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute
DRACO MALFOY
It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts
Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today
He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before
You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is
Academics, you’re better
Athletics, you’re better
Clubs and community, you’re WAY better
He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance
Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad
But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration
It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom
He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds
But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms
From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration
His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it
Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true
He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)
He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything
Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy
Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy
He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy
Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you
He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up
When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy
Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc
But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better
And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him
One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter
Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death
He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years
Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls
He plans to ruin your date and he succeed
He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food
The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up
From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you
But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug
Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again
“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry
So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage
TOM RIDDLE
Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone
This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭
But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you
He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush
But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way
He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you
But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊
He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you
Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge
But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background
He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence
Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world
And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc
Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours
He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot
So when he follows you, you think nothing of it
But in reality, he’s watching you in depth
Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is
He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned
He listens to it daily :)
Honestly, he’s just like me fr
He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you
If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold
Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence
But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space
MATTHEO RIDDLE
When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell
He was just trying to get into your pants
But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away
Instantly, he was attracted to you
He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him
He was about to do the exact same thing to you
Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move
Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day
Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭
Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them
Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them
He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more
Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get
Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts
Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received
He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable
He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)
Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are
Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen
Never ever gives up on you, no matter what
Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed
One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out
Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him
But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month
Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength
Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet
If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return
If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates
It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet
Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating
Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple
One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant
But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(
But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating
THEODORE NOTT
He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that
You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped
And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone
Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you
When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”
He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said
“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”
When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot
Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants
With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years
You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends
He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option
He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful
Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous
He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner
Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you
Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”
You two are basically dating… just without an official title
He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him
Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭
Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH
He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project
Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way
Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him
Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do
Spoils you ROTTEN omg
Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you
He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband
Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum
“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform
He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down
Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them
He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you
Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best
You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did
Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone
Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”
But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you
They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything
But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd
Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit
He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you
He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly
Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him
read more here! :D
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco x y/n#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x y/n#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo x reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#fluff#crush#harry potter headcanon
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➤Happy Mother's Day.
↳ Husk || Alastor || Lucifer Morningstar || Adam
•Husk•
"Ah! Shit" gritting his teeth, Husk felt Marylin sink her teeth into one of his ears as Coltrane and Harry watched their father grip the tray of food for you, the man nearly dropping it. "Marylin careful!"
Hearing her father, Marylin snuggled into his fur as he then nodded to his two son's. "Alright, come on you two. Let's go surprise mommy."
Ear's poking up, Henry and Coltrane jumped onto his shoulders. Satisfied, he gripped the tray full of food he cooked for you. Making his way to the bedroom then kicking the door open. The triplet's flew towards you, little chirps leaving their chests as they snuggled into you.
"Happy mother's day beautiful." Husk placed the tray down as he gave your head a kiss.
Biting back a yawn you smiled letting your children snuggle into you. "You didn't have to do this Husk."
Scoffing, Husk sat on the edge of the bed as he rolled his shoulders."nonsense...this day is about you beautiful. Now just tell me what you want and it's granted."
"I just want to spend a day with you all." You smiled taking a bite of the food.
Leaning in, Husk gave you a grin. "Granted."
•Alastor•
"Today is mother's day! So that means it is about your mother girls! Which means we are going to take care of a the little nasty's that hurt and bother your mother." Alastor smiled down at the twins as the little girls smiled up at their father.
"Yes papa!" "Yes papa!"
"Perfect!" Alastor straightened his form as he patted his daughter's head. "Good girls."
Mary and Kathryn rush away from their father know just the person to bother, the very asshole that has been harassing you from the start.
Following after his girls, Alastor wanted to make sure the girls didn't maim the bastard too much. This day was about you after all.
"How was your sleep darlin?" Alastor pulled out a chair to the table for you.
Smiling you gave Alastor a grateful smile. "It was amazing, I really needed it."
"Happy mother's day mama!" The twins rushing over to you. The little girls giving you a hug as they nuzzle their faces into your neck.
•Lucifer Morningstar•
"All most done annnd perfect!" Lucifer stuck out his tongue setting up the decorations for you. He wanted everything to be perfect when you arrived back home with Edna and Charlie.
He wanted this day to be perfect, it has to be perfect since you were the one that gave him a second chance, you gave him Edna, you gave him Damian.
Turning to face his son, the King of hell placed his hands on his hips beaming. "What do ya think."
Squealing, the baby clapped his hands together just happy to be with his father.
Hearing the door open, along with the voices of his girls. The man scooped up his son quickly making his way towards you. "Happy mother's day! How was the girls night out!"
Smiling, you turned to face Lucifer. Edna rushing to her father. "We had lots of fun daddy! But sissy Charlie is taking us out again...but baby brother are coming."
Blinking, Lucifer turned his attention to Charlie in confusion. "What?!"
Shrugging her shoulders, Charlie took her brother from his arms. "I figured you and mom could use the break."
Not getting a chance to reply, Lucifer watched Charlie leave with Edna and Damian. Shaking his head, he wrapped his arms around your waist tugging you in close. "Happy mother's day beautiful."
Retuning the smile, you nuzzled your face into his chest. "Thank you Lucifer."
•Adam•
You should have been expecting this, the man has been doing something like this ever since Celeste was born.
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!" Adam shouted at anyone that stepped foot near you. Little Celeste marching in front of her tossing flower petals.
"Ya outta our way! It's mama's special day!" Celeste yelled at anyone that would dare to step a foot near you.
Dropping your shoulders, you gave everyone a weak smile mouthing sorry every now and then. While the two may go over the top each year you were grateful each year.
Adam turning to face you, mask off. Lifting up his little girl into his arms he then tugged you close as he nuzzled his cheek against your own. "Happy mother's day to the sexiest woman in heaven." His voice dipping as he gave you a knowing grin.
"I got somethin planed for us." His voice dipped.
#drabbles#drabble#hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel adam#adam x reader#husk#husker#husk x reader#husk x you#husk x y/n#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin hotel lucifer#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x y/n
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written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx & style masterlist
authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!
brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.
warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.
On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.
Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was.
Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean?
She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail.
She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.
She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.
Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.
So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose.
She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.
However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.
It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.
As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.
“Babe! Where are you two off to?”
Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”
Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.
“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.
Paddy was his most recent fling.
“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.
Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.
Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.
Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.
She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks.
“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.
Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.
Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.
The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.
His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be.
Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.
“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones.
He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.
But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.
Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing.
“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck.
He had such an intense stare.
“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”
Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.
It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”
She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder.
She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.
“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”
He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.
He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.
Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.
Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse.
She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.
Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.
Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too.
Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.
Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up.
Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring.
So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.
He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs.
She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him.
She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest.
“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily.
He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”
She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.
“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”
He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”
She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.
But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.
“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?
Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.
Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”
She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments.
But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them.
He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.
Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.
And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.
He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.
She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!
She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.
“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.
“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.
“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.
“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”
“We?”
She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”
“You love me?” He teased.
She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.
“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.
He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.
He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.
“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”
Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.
She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”
Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared.
She could tell he was kind of speechless.
“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack.
“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.
“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.
She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.
“You know why too.”
She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.
“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.
She felt her heart rate speed up.
“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.
He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”
Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”
Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.
“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.
Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”
Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”
“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.
“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”
Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.
He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”
She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.
“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.
“It’s not,” She pouted.
He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”
She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.
“I stole a lolly once.”
Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.
“Oh yeah? Anything else?”
She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal.
“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.
Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.
“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”
Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.
Until.
“What do you think about, Y/n?”
She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.
“A lot of filthy things, H.”
He bit his lip, “Like what?”
He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”
Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.
It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”
Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.
She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”
That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Wanna be good?”
She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.
“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no?
She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.
Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).
He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”
She couldn’t complain about that.
As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.
In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.
“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head.
“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.
“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”
She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”
He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”
She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”
He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”
She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry.
He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back.
He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.
After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.
The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.
He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips.
He stopped to look at her. Really looking.
Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.
“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.
“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.
He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”
“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”
“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”
She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away.
“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.
He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”
She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered.
He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”
She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.
It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.
Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.
“You alright down there, Petal?”
She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy.
And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper.
His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him.
“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him.
“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.
She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.
She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch.
“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.
“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.
His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.
“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”
She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”
He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.
Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.
She was just perfect.
He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her.
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”
She nodded. “Yes please.”
“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”
She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.
“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.
His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly.
“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.
He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”
He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.
“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”
She nodded. “Mm.”
“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”
“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.
He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”
She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.
“So sensitive f’me.”
He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.
“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”
She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”
He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.
“Suck,” He told her.
She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.
“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet.
She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.
“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.
When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.
“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.
He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”
She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.
“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him.
Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”
He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”
He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.
But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.
Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”
It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.
He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”
He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.
Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”
He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”
God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.
She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.
“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked.
And she nodded once more.
“Tell me.” He told her.
“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.
“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”
That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper.
As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.
He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out.
“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.
He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder.
“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.
She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”
Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.
“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.
He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.
He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire.
“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.
“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words.
“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back.
He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm.
“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!”
He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.
It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before.
She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that
“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.
And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”
Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head.
He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.
“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven.
“Please, what?” He asked sternly.
“Please, Daddy.”
He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.
“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.
With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.
“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.
Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”
“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him.
“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips.
Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.
“One sec, Love.”
She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.
He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”
She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much.
“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked.
She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”
He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”
“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her.
He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.
“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”
She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.
He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her.
Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”
She nodded. “Alright.”
When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.
“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too.
“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”
“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.
“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”
He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”
She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”
He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”
She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”
He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”
She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”
He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”
She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully.
“I like you too.”
This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”
“C’mere then,”
She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.
The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”
“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary.
He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”
“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her.
“Kiss?”
She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep.
When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.
Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.
“Want some pancakes, children?”
The pair nodded.
Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?
When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.
Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.
“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?
She nodded. “Yeah,”
“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”
She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”
“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.
“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.
They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.
“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.
“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.
“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”
Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”
They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.
She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.
Harry Styles🍒
Can I come over tonight?
Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face.
what on earth for mr. styles?
Harry Styles🍒
Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?
Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back.
see u at eight
Harry Styles🍒
See you then Baby X
Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?
oh and bring snacks
and that new film u were raving about to niall
Harry Styles🍒
Ok, done. See you tonight. XX
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.
‘💗💗’ She replied.
When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.
Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.
She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.
#writing#harry#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry one shot#harry blurb#harry imagine#harry au#harry fanfiction#harry prompt#harry styles prompt#one direction#1d#harry styles album#meet me in the hallway#sign of the times#carolina#two ghosts#sweet creature#only angel#kiwi#ever since new york#woman#from the dining table#dunkirk#harrys house
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Tell Me*
Summary: An extra for Teach Me*
The one where your best friend Harry suggests a fun, friendly little game of horny Simon Says.
Word Count: 1.8k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, choking, Daddy kink
The look on his face is absolutely feral.
Your heart is in your throat. Pounding between your legs. Racing beneath your chest.
And he’s looking at you like he’s ready to take you over his knee and show you exactly how much he’s missed you.
He takes a step forward, expression firm and never wavering. He studies you. Studies your trembling thighs, your quivering lips. He studies and he plots and he grins because he knows you’ll do anything he fucking asks.
He reaches the bed and his chin raises. “Are you gonna be good for me, Bee?”
You nod quickly. Of course. Always.
“Good.” He smiles and it makes your insides wrench. “And you still wanna play our little game?”
You nod again. “Yes, please.”
“Good girl. Then are you ready?”
“Yes.”
He smirks. “Harry says…lift your pretty skirt up.”
Quickly, you oblige, pulling the black fabric along your thighs and toward your hips. An easy task and you're eager to make him proud.
You can tell he's tempted to look. But he doesn’t. He keeps his attention on you. Only. Always. “Harry says pull your little panties to the side.”
Again, you obey. Hooking a finger around the already damp fabric and peeling it away from your cunt until the cold air finds you.
You shiver. He grins.
“Harry says spread your legs.”
You do. Easy.
He nods and his arms cross and he’s oddly calm. Focused. He takes another step closer and you could almost grab him. “Harry says show me how wet you are.”
You lean back and now he looks. He’s intrigued. Pleased. Proud.
And the devious grin that splits his face is enough to ruin you.
“Good girl,” he murmurs and then he’s crouching down between your knees. Lining his eyes up with your cunt in the most intimate of ways. “Touch your clit for me.”
Your fingers twitch and you almost do, but you don’t. You follow the rules. You know better.
He chuckles and places his hands on your thighs, keeping you open. “Smart girl, too, hm?” He dips down and presses a kiss to your knee that has you sighing. “Harry says touch your clit for me.”
You do, instantly, and it’s everything. Even the slightest brush of contact has you reeling and you whimper as your thumb sweeps across the sensitive nerves.
He watches you for only a moment—the way you circle and pinch, the way you gasp—before he’s jutting his chin up. “Harry says stop.”
You whine. Breathless. Needy. “Harry—”
“Stop,” he repeats firmly, eyes flicking to yours. You mewl dejectedly and pull your hand away. “There you go. See, you can behave when you want to, hm?”
You nod weakly.
“Good.” He’s smiling again—coy, evil—and kissing your inner thigh. “Harry says suck your fingers.”
You bring your slightly soaked digits toward your lips and you’ve never felt so enamored. Because he is sex and he’s nipping at your skin in a way that reminds you of how good his mouth is. And you love his mouth. And the way he tugs on your body as though tempting you with the idea of tasting you but never actually giving in.
You suck and you moan and you make a show of it.
He hums. “Harry says give me your hand.”
You relinquish your trembling hand to him and he licks a long, slow stripe up your palm. All the way to your fingers while your eyes nearly roll back.
He hums again. “Always taste so good for me, Bee. You know that?”
You watch his lips. You don’t speak. And this is an evil game, a cruel game, and even if you win, you lose. But you don’t mind because he is your prize and that's all you've ever really wanted.
He drops your hand and returns his hold to your thighs. He smiles at you. “Harry says spread your pussy for me.”
With a strained inhale, you slip your fingers down and pull yourself open. His soft, warm breath fans across your dripping cunt and you whimper quietly. Desperate to weave your fingers through his curls and bring him closer.
And he knows you, knows what you really want, so he taunts you. Kisses up your thigh, over your hip, along the band of your underwear. Everywhere but where you need him most.
He watches you soak the bed below and he’s so incredibly smug. “Harry says tell me what you want.”
“You,” you breathe instantly. “You, Daddy, please.”
The use of the nickname surprises him. You haven’t slipped into your subspace yet but you quite enjoy the way his expression grows dark at the use of the moniker. And, truth be told, you also happen to love the way it tastes to say.
His eyebrow lifts and his hands curl tighter around your legs. “What do you want Daddy to do, Bee?”
You swallow. Thick. “Want you to fuck me. Please.”
His lips part. He’s mesmerized and wildly intrigued. And even if he knows you’re trying to cheat by using the more dominant nickname, he doesn’t seem to care.
He stands up. “Daddy says lay down.”
Suppressing a grin, you slowly crawl back toward the pillows and settle onto the mattress. And he looks at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful, so enticing. You imagine if this were a cartoon, he’d be drooling, and you don’t miss the twitch in his fingers as he attempts to resist chasing after you.
Instead, he’s deliberate. Practiced. Following you onto the duvet and hovering above you before nodding again.
“Daddy says take me out.”
You reach for his belt. Pulling it through each loop before tossing it toward the floor and continuing to his zipper. Once you have enough room, you slip into his briefs and find him. Hard, heavy, and leaking in your palm. You almost drool, too.
You take him out and your lashes flutter as you glance up at him. Looking for his approval which he gives you almost far too easily.
“Good girl,” he whispers. His voice is labored. Thick with lust. “Daddy says put me in.”
You bring him closer and run him up and down your pussy a time or two while you both shudder. And then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he slips in. And everything changes.
He curses and you gasp and the game is over. It doesn’t matter who won because this is why you play. For this feeling, this moment. This familiar and addictive stretch as he pushes in and sends you over the edge.
He puts a hand on your throat and his mouth finds yours. He kisses you—hard, hungry. Sloppy and rushed but full of love. He adores having power over you, but he loves you more. Getting to take you anyway he wants you.
He squeezes your delicate neck and your vision blurs around the edges in the most delicious of ways. He knows what you like and he knows that you’d gladly put your life in his hand any goddamn day of the week. So, he holds you, and he chokes you, and he waits until your gasps are shallow before loosening his grip ever-so-slightly.
“Shit,” he exhales before he’s pulling back and thrusting in. “God, you’re so tight today, lovie.”
You arch off the bed and reach for his back. Nails scraping down his spine while his dark shirt wrinkles beneath your hands. “Daddy, please—”
“I know.” He bites your neck. Pulls the skin between his teeth and laps at it with his tongue. “Fuck. I know, baby. Feels so good, doesn’t it? Poor little cockslut was just so empty while I was gone, hm?”
You nod fervently. You hate when he leaves, hate when his job takes him on trips away from you. And fucking yourself isn’t nearly as good as when he does it.
And he knows it.
“Say it,” he hisses. “Fucking tell me how good I feel.”
You reach for his ass and grip. “So good, Daddy. Needed you so bad.”
He nips at your earlobe and then returns to your mouth. The sound of his cock fucking into your pussy is loud, almost as loud as the sound of him sucking your tongue. And it almost ends you, right there.
He smells like vanilla and sex. A musky, familiar scent that seems to seep into your bloodstream and go straight to your clit.
You don’t imagine either one of you will last much longer, not after being away all this time. But you try, you do. You meet his thrusts as best you can and you kiss your name into his neck until he groans.
“So many things I wanna do to you,” he whispers and he’s gentler now. “God, Bee. You have no idea what I wanna do to you. All the things I imagined as I fucked my fist just thinking of you.”
“Tell me,” you whimper. “Tell me, please, Daddy—”
He curses again. “Want you to sit on my face until I can’t fucking breathe. Wanna taste you—gotta taste you, baby. Missed it so fucking much.” He reaches for your clit and you moan. “Wanna eat my cum out of your pretty pussy and I wanna make your thighs fucking shake.”
God. You tug on his curls and you’re so close. So fucking close.
“Then I wanna watch you bounce on my cock,” he says. His thrusts are harder now. Faster. Sharper. “Wanna bend you over and watch this pretty little ass shake for me.”
Your leg hooks around his hip and you whine his name.
“Wanna have you in the shower, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the car, against the window so they can all watch. Fucking everywhere.”
A strangled sound leaves your throat and you know he means it.
“Want you to fucking own me, Bee.” He slips his hand around the back of your neck and pulls on your roots. “Cause you do. You know that? You fucking own me. I’m yours. Always—”
“Harry,” you gasp.
“Show me you know that,” he hisses. He’s almost there. “Show me you fucking know that I belong to you—”
You come and when you do, everything changes. Lights are brighter, sounds are louder, life is sweeter. You see stars and you see him and you don’t need to see anything else ever again.
He follows right after, unable to resist the way your pussy clenches around him as you come. He’s warm and it feels like heaven. You hold tight to his shoulders and you ride each other through. It’s not until you writhe away from the ministrations on your clit that he slows to a stop and drops his face to your neck.
“Fuck,” he exhales. You have to agree. “M’sorry. I tried to make it last longer, I swear—”
“No,” you whisper. You take his cheeks between your hands and lift his face to yours. “No, it’s okay. It was perfect, I promise.”
He sighs. “I know, but after all that time, I just…I wanted to do better—”
You shush him and nuzzle your nose against his. “Harry, it was perfect. Trust me. That’s exactly what I wanted.”
“Yeah?”
You grin. “Yeah.” You kiss him. “That was quite a fun game.”
He laughs now and the sound is like magic. “You think so?”
“I do. Love it when you tell me what to do.”
He smiles again but you notice the devious expression returning. “Is that right, lovie?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He hums and it’s wicked. “Then maybe we should play another round, hm?”
Your stomach flips. You nod.
He smirks.
“Then Daddy says…on my fucking face.”
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @jessitpwk @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @harrysgf01 @spinningoutwaiting4ya @vyctorya @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @wolfmoonmusic @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream
#harry#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fan#harry edward styles#smut#harry styles fluff#best friend!harry#harry styles concept#softdom!harry#switch!harry#fluff#teach me#harry and bee#softdomrry#best friendrry#domrry
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Pretty Boy
Pairing: Harry Potter x reader
Summary: everyone knew you had a thing for the boy who lived, everyone, that is, except for Harry himself.
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: Harry is so soft in this it's insane so take this as your warning
Masterlist
✰ ✰ ✰
It wasn't like you were hiding anything.
You prided yourself in being very direct, and very much a go-getter. After transferring from Beauxbatons, you made quick friends at Hogwarts, even with Harry, Hermione, and Ron.
With Harry, you very quickly became fond of the quirky things he would say, and how flustered he would get when you were around.
Some people called you a flirt, but you liked to think you were just really clear about what you wanted.
Him.
You just weren't sure if he felt the same way about you.
"So, (Y/N)." Hermione said as you, her, Harry and Ron walked out of potions class. "Did you want to study for the exam with us? I figure I could use as much help to make sure these two know what they're doing."
"Hey!" Ron complained, "I happen to be smart sometimes too, Hermione. You're not the only one with a brain."
"You're right, Ron." Hermione said. "(Y/N) has a brain as well, that's why I've asked her to come study with us."
Ron rolled his eyes with a grumble.
"I think that'd be nice," Harry softly said.
You grinned. "Well if Harry wants me there, of course I'm down."
His cheeks turned pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Ron snickered and playfully elbowed Harry a couple of times. Harry swatted him away; the pink on his cheeks growing a darker shade.
Harry sheepishly smiled at you. "O-of course I want you there!" He stuttered.
You smirked at him. "Don't worry, pretty boy, I promise I'll be there."
Harry's mouth fell open slightly, as Ron started laughing. "Harry, close your mouth for Merlin's sake!" Ron teased Harry by pointing at his parted lips.
Harry swatted Ron's hands away from his face with a scowl. "Shut up, Ron," he muttered.
You laughed. "I'm just gonna catch up to you guys later. Bye, Harry." You sent a wink in his direction as you walked away. Ron's cackling laugh boomed through the hallway as you left.
✰ ✰ ✰
"Hey, (Y/N)!"
You had started walking down the hallways to get to the Gryffindor study hall where you were supposed to meet up with the golden trio when Luna stopped you.
"Hey, Luna!" You smiled as she walked towards you. "Where were you today? I didn't see you in herbology today."
Luna had been one of your closest friends outside of Hermione, Ron, and Harry. She was fun to talk to, and pretty much knew everything about you already and vice versa.
"Yeah," she smiled, "I was off in the woods taking a walk. It's very nice out there this time of year, you know that?"
You nodded, "oh yeah, it really is."
"So where are you heading off to?"
"Hermione invited me to help them study for the potions exam we've got coming up."
"Oh!" She grinned, "will Harry be there?"
You giggled, "he will be there. Did I tell you he specifically said he wanted me to come with them! I just about died, Luna, like my heart was fluttering like crazy."
Luna chuckled, "You guys need to get together already! Unless you're keeping it a secret from me," Luna squinted her eyes at you playfully.
You laughed. "No, we're not dating. Not yet at least." You winked at her.
"Ahem," a throat cleared behind you.
Turning around, you saw Harry standing there, a bewildered look on his face, and a red burning in his cheeks.
"Um," he stuttered, "I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to make sure you were still coming to the study hall."
Slowly, you turned back to Luna who gave you a sorry smile.
"Well," she said, "I'm going to leave you two alone. I'll see you later, (Y/N/N)." With that, she walked away, leaving you alone with the boy who basically just heard you telling Luna you wanted to date him.
You looked back to Harry with a soft smile. Even though you laid your flirting on so thick with Harry, that wasn't as scary as this. Flirting was innocent. If he didn't reciprocate your feelings, you could always act like you were just messing around.
Now, though, it was the real deal. Even if you looked composed on the outside, you were freaking out quite a bit on the inside.
"Yeah, I'll be there." You smiled, "I'd never ditch my favorite boy."
Harry choked on a gasp.
"You okay?" You asked, stepping a little closer to him.
Harry gazed up at you with confusion, but also intrigue.
"What are you doing?" He asked softly.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean like-like with me? Why do you say things like that to me?"
Instinctively, you took a step back. "I'm sorry? I didn't know you felt some type of way about how I acted." You felt horrible. Maybe you had done a little too much. Maybe you had flirted too hard and too blatantly that it scared him off.
"No!" He practically shouted. "No, I mean, ahem, I mean I don't feel any type of way about it. I mean, yeah I feel some type of way, but not like- not like a bad way, if that makes sense. I mean more like in a good way, you know? But also, like in a confused way. I'm not sure, I mean, I like when you say things like that to me, but it's also confusing because why would you say things like that to me?" Harry rambled on.
You couldn't help but chuckle a little.
He looked up at you when you laughed, and gave you a sheepish smile. "Too much?" He asked.
You shook your head with a smile. "No, just enough. So you don't think I come off too strong when I flirt with you?"
Harry grinned. "So you are flirting with me!"
You chuckled, "I would hope you consider that flirting. I'm not sure if you know this, but I don't go around calling too many people 'pretty boy' or 'my favorite boy'."
He blushed. "Yeah, that's what Ron said, but I didn't believe him. I just can't believe out of all the guys that like you, you like me instead."
You smiled, "So Ron told you I liked you?"
"Well, he may have mentioned it a time or two or twenty," he chuckled, "I just didn't believe him."
"How could I not like you? You're Harry, you're incredibly sweet, and selfless, and so much more. Anyone with eyes would like you, Harry."
His face turned ten shades of red. "That's how I feel about you, too, (Y/N). But with you, it's just obvious everyone loves you. You walk in a room and every single head turns. You laugh, and the birds start singing. You smile, and the sun quivers from how bright you light the place up."
With every word coming from Harry's lips, you found yourself more and more drawn to him. Your heart beat erratically.
"I didn't realize you thought so highly of me." It was your turn to blush now. You could feel your face getting incredibly hot by the sweet words he spoke. You never thought Harry would like you back, especially not as intensely as he's describing. Frankly, you didn't know he had such a way with words.
"I think you're incredible, (Y/N), and if you would let me, I'd like to take on a-a date sometime?" He suggested.
You grinned at him and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'd love to, Harry."
He grinned, and held on tight to your hand.
For a minute there, the two of you just stared at each other, smiling. You started to giggle. "As much as I would love to stay here like this, we promised Hermione we would study with her and Ron."
"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." Harry admitted, sheepishly.
You chuckled, "come on, let's not keep them waiting, pretty boy."
Harry grinned. "I like that nickname."
"I like you."
#aaahhhhh#harry potter x reader#harry potter#ron weasly x reader#ron weasley#hermione granger#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#draco mafloy#fred weasley#george weasley#ron wealsey x y/n#george weasley x gryffindor!reader#fred weasly x reader#draco malfoy x reader
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tease | H.S oneshot
summary: seeing harry tonguing his guitar last night has you finally admitting the state he puts you in. and that’s never good when you’re a tour photographer. especially now you have photographic evidence of the moment.
warnings: SMUT, oral (fem rec), dirty talk, praise, swearing
a/n: can’t stop thinking about that fucking video? like it’s on loop in my head I can’t. he was so slutty last night it’s illegal. also this isn’t 100% proofread so enjoy I hope it’s okay!
———
Some days at work are harder than others for you.
Today, you knew was going to be rough the second Harry walked out in single-handedly the most revealing outfit he could have. Borderlining absolutely slutty.
And as his tour photographer, that is quite a bold statement to make when you’ve seen every single outfit— and when his top half is often found shirtless up on stage.
But tonight, out backstage when you were prepping your SD cards and ordering your camera lenses, he walked out of his dressing room adorning his stage outfit to show you, and your stomach dropped the sight of him.
It was a new style, something he hadn’t worn before. A cropped, tasseled blue vest, paired with low rise pants that looked like they were clinging onto his hips for dear life.
“Alrighty, what d’ya think?” He asked, doing a little spin to shake the tassels.
Your mouth opened and words struggled to form as your head fogged over from just seeing his body. And the way his ferns were fully out— along with almost all of his other ink on display. Arms, chest and all.
You had sworn this, many times, was just your eye for art. For people like him who made photography electric. But as time and the tour progressed on from its earlier start in 2021, it was getting harder to convince yourself. Because even if you didn’t acknowledge it, there was no way to justify the heat that stirred in your stomach as just admiration.
“Oh— wow— I like the tassels,” you paused, tongue swiping over your lips, “they’ll be really fun in the photos, I’ll try to get some motion blur type shots with them.”
Your hand reached out before your brain even computed what it was doing, grabbing one of the rhinestoned threads at the base of his vest and running down it. Knuckles brushing the side of his chest.
“Excited to see them as always, m’lovely.” He smiles, the pet name making you flush.
“10 minutes till you’re on, H!” Someone called out.
You laughed at the panicked expression on his face as he realised he was probably dawdling, and in fact behind on his own schedule.
“Alright!” He confirmed back, then chuckling as he whispered to you, “I still gotta brush m’teeth.”
“Well, cmon let’s go, I’ll see what behind the scene shots I can get.”
And you thought that the time spent with him pre-show would ease your racing mind a little, but now that you’re out on the floor you’re almost jittering.
He looks fucking delectable. And by the sound of the stadium around you, they notice it too.
As he steps out you have to force your camera up to your face, which is something you never have to do? But looking at him through your viewfinder is hardly enough to satiate you.
Especially a little later in the show, when your camera is aimed to the back of him— and he’s squated down to get a drink of water…
His pants slipping so far down his hips that the waistband of his Calvin Kleins are easily visible.
Some girls on barricade behind you are going feral simply at the sight. And you can hardly blame them, because the sight of them makes you a little light headed too. Tonight he’s really not leaving much to the imagination.
You feel obliged to take a photo of it, lens aiming up to him— hearing the girls from behind you as your cameras shutters open to capture the moment. They’re shouting clearly, “Y/N, you get that pic girl!”
Another one yelling from your left, “SHES ONE OF US!”
You laugh at them. The fans are always an amazing part of the show. You leave with an array of adorable bracelets, funny shirts, and always lovely compliments.
You snap a few more photos before someone calls your name again, and you turn. A brunette girl, in an incredible replica of his recent purple and black heart overalls from the recent Wembley show, is standing.
“Y/N!” She reaffirms when you’re looking at her.
“Hi lovely, your outfit is amazing.” You smile, and she has fresh tears streaming down her face— a common love on tour occurrence.
“Ohmygod, thank you so much. I made you this tshirt, i wanted to give it to you!” She pulled a white shirt from her feet, presumably from a bag.
She held it out, unfolding it to show off the print on the front.
You immediately couldn’t help but let out a shocked laugh at it. A big pink shaded heart, with 2 also heart-shaped photos on each side of it— of you and Harry. But the best bit was the bubble written font, “my favourite parents!” that is above it.
“I— can I please take a photo of you with it first.”
She slaps a hand over her mouth, “No way, of course you fucking can.”
You take a few photos of her posing with the shirt, “I have 2, please feel free take them both!”
You can only assume one of them is intended for Harry. And even if it’s a little weird of you to take them, you do anyway because the girl was too lovely to even consider denying them.
“Thank you so much.” You chuckle as you hang them over your elbow. She still looks starstruck at the interaction that just occurred and you’re overly excited to edit the photos later on.
In the time of the short interaction, you turned to find Harry. He’s about to transition into she, and is over on the main stage.
You hustle to get yourself up from the floor and onto the stage area. Moving to chuck the shirts on the bench, where most of the bands essentials are for easy access.
Harry sees you over there and you decide to show him the design on the front before you can overthink it.
He’s beginning to sing the intro, and he chuckles the lyrics into the mic as he sees it. And fans around the whole arena scream at the shirt— which you didn’t realise was being displayed on the big screens.
You shake your head, struggling not to admire the tone of his laugh that just echoed around the stadium.
Also blushing a little at the fact you did genuinely just show him a shirt with both of your faces of it, deeming you both as a fans ‘parents’.
You go back to doing your actual job, moving to get a good angle, aiming to blend back into the background as you take more photos for the night.
Capturing the sway and jolts of his tassels as he sings. Getting a few shots that not only capture his energy but also his outfit perfectly.
You smile at yourself and at your work.
And you glance up as Harry joins in with Mitch while he absolutely shreds his guitar solo.
Sweat is beading on Harry’s chest and you’re all too aware how much money people would pay to see it from your angle. Thank god for Barcelona’s heat.
And, fuck, not only is it that. His arms look perfect as well. This outfit is really just showing as much of himself off as possible.
You change the settings on your camera hastily to alter the outcome of these next few shots.
He’d stepped away from the mic, turning to look at the band, mouthing something you couldn’t decipher.
He starts to lean down head getting closer to guitar. His tongue juts out…
Your eyes immediately pull back a little from your camera because, there no fucking way he’s about to let some kind of intrusive thought win here.
Time seems to slow. But not the movement of his tongue. It’s flicking fast, as if to mimic it playing the strings of his guitar. Or something like that anyway, because all you can think of is… well… something too inappropriate to even be entertaining in your head given he’s literally your boss.
You can hear the piercing screams around you, someone in the front shouting what the fuck loud enough you swear someone in the back of the stadium could’ve heard it.
You’re not even aware you bought your camera back up to your face and that you’d clicked the button a few times until it’s done and the moments over.
Harry’s laughing at himself, and Sarah is face palming at his lewd action. His smug smile after solidifies the fact he knows what the fuck he just did. And exactly the kind of effect it’s left on some people.
Just not aware you’re one of them…
Because you can’t deny the way you spent rest of the night with a nagging warmth between your legs. One that festered long after the moment was over.
After the show came to a close and you eventually ended up in your hotel room, freshly showered as you edited some of your favourite photos. Including the shots you’d captured of him and his guitar.
Which were fucking insane. You had just the right amount of contrast going on in them, and a certain degree of motion blur that indicated the movement his tongue was making.
The final product was amazing once you had edited it on photoshop. But you spent the remainder of the night in your hotel room ridiculously worked up. Left in bed toying with your clit lazily as you stared at the celling, acting like you didn’t have a specific person in your thoughts.
It got to the point in the next day where you stressed about what photos to show him. And whether or not that included the one you literally came to the thought of last night?
Usually you wouldn’t hesitate, especially since it looked incredible. But you were embarrassed internally. What would he think, or say? And could you even play off your sheer attraction to the image.
You placed your head in your hands with a groan, sat in the chair over by the window. You’re tired, and swear on your life your decision making is going to be impaired when he walks into your room.
Which you didn’t have much more time to stress much about it as a knock came to your door that you knew was him.
You rushed over to open it, finding him standing there, hair freshly washed and clad in much more clothing then you last saw him in. A plain white shirt and some gym shorts— that still made him look hot as fuck, without even trying?
He greets you with a good morning, voice a tad hoarse from last nights show. And he’s smiling as he hands you a cup, one you know is filled with hot chocolate. Just for you.
“I owe you like 100 hot chocolates for how many you’ve bought me just in this leg of the tour alone.” You laugh, letting him past you.
He glances at the unmade bed— you stopped making it a while after he started to come visit your room the morning after the show to pick which photos he liked best, and ones he also wanted edited. Sometimes he’d settle himself on it, legs crossed like a cute little kid.
“Think of it as a gift for all your talent. And putting up with me.” He chuckles, and plops himself down on the chair that’s opposite to the one you were sitting in.
So you follow suit, walking back over the your chair. Taking a small sip of the sweet liquid in your hands.
“Have any favourites so far?” He asks, taking a quick swig of his own drink— which you can only assume is hot tea.
Yes, you think, the one where you’re about to practically fuck your guitar strings with your tongue.
You substitute that for, “A few! The tassels were so fun to try and capture.”
You rotated the laptop screen to show him a cool shot you edited of him. It was a front on photo, his arms extended and washboard abs in their full fucking glory along with his tattoos.
He nods, a smile coming across his lips, crinkling the corners of his slightly tired eyes.
You showcase him a couple, all that he gives relentless praise on— regardless of if they had been edited or not. But you just want to show him your favourite.
You swallow as you stare at it on the screen of your macbook. Working up the courage to turn the screen to him as he waits cluelessly. Does he even know you took this?
“This one too…” you hesitate a little as you swivel the laptop around on your lap.
“Oh. I like this one a lot.” He says, nodding and then glancing up from the screen to your semi-flushed face.
“Didn’t know you took that.” He chuckles, shrugging and almost seeming… like he has more to say about this situation.
Like something is laying on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be said.
You think he’s not going to though, after a beat of silence, you nod.
“Yea… what actually are you doing in this photo?” You nervous laugh, and wonder what kind of answer he’s going to provide.
He runs a hand through his curls, brows raised a little at your question.
“What did you think I was doing?” He quizzes, the corner of his mouth turning up.
“I- well it looked quite… everyone in the audience was going wild. Were you trying to be a tease?”
“I wasn’t! I swear. I was playing the guitar.” He confirmed, yet smirking like he knew there was a two-way perception of the event.
“With your tongue?” You sighed out a laugh.
“You still didn’t answer me. What did you think I was doing?” He backtracks, eyes watching you intensely as you’re both entering some rather dangerous, untouched territory.
You’re quiet again, and he raises his brows still expecting a response.
You flush under his gaze, hand coming to cover your eyes. “It just looked very…”
“Very…?”
“Inappropriate.” You laughed, feeling like you were emotionally torturing yourself by letting this situation happen.
“How so?” He continues to push, wanting to hear more. Secretly adoring the way you get all flustered about it. How badly he wants you to tell him exactly what the movement of his tongue reminded you of.
“It just— you know what I mean, Harry!” You say, now being the one trying to backtrack out of this entire situation. That in the end is still technically your own fault.
You distract yourself with other photos, going in and trying to find another possible contender for his new post on instagram.
“Don’t try and avoid the conversation, love.” He chuckles at your sudden shy demeanour.
“Harry.” You place your hand over your face again trying to mentally reset yourself. Put your thinking back in line.
“Cmon! I’m just curious.” He tries to brush it off, but if he has to resort to begging, he honestly wouldn’t hesitate.
“I know you are, but— it’s weird!” You whine, wanting to die at the fact you had let this happen in the first place.
“I promise I won’t judge.” He places his hand over his heart, face serious, like he was swearing it on his bloodline.
You thought about it a little longer. He clearly was not going to leave you alone if he didn’t get an answer. You could try and lie, but he already knows anyway. He just wants to hear you say it.
“You know, Harry. You just want to hear me say it.” You murmur, bringing up the chocolaty drink to your lips to distract yourself.
“Sure, maybe I do. I wanna confirm my suspicions.” He proposes, a small shrug of his shoulders. You place the drink back on the coaster, staring at him. Eventually caving.
“It— everyone definitely thought it looked like you were, uh, giving oral.” You rushed out, trying to now act as nonchalant as possible to avoid further questioning.
I didn’t work.
“So everyone including you?” He asked.
“Well… yea.” Your cheeks were pink, and he smiled at your flustered voice.
“Dirty thing.” He chuckled, and you almost breathed a sigh of relief thinking maybe you could move on and pretend as if this never happened, but he continues on.
“Had you a little worked up, did I?”
“May I touch on how unprofessional this conversation is?” You bring up, trying to save yourself. But it’s evident in your voice you hardly mean it. You are admittedly a little curious as to where he’s going with this. Equally, if not more embarrassed than anything, but still curious.
“I suppose you can, yes.” He nods.
“But may I bring up how you undressing me with your eyes yesterday was unprofessional? Because unless I’m insane, you definitely were.” He’s cocky, and overconfident with his accusation.
Not that it can be really labelled as an accusation, given he’s not wrong at all.
“I—“ you swallow, “Okay. Whatever. Point proven.”
He laughs at your surrender, shuffling forward on the chair.
“So you were— that’s the kind of stuff you were thinking about me?” He rests his elbows on his knees, watching you intently.
“You are really trying to get something out of me aren’t you? What do you want to hear me say?” You raise your brows, adrenaline coursing through you.
“Just want you to tell me the truth. Be honest with me, since we’re talking about being professional. I think that’s a good start.” He sounds so gentle yet firm, and your devouring this dominant kind of trait he’s showing you.
“Communication and honesty is very important when it comes to professionalism.”
Pleasure has been simmering in your stomach since he walked through the door, and his persistence is beginning to pay off, since you’re starting to let your guard down.
“So you want me to tell you how wet I got after your little stunt last night? That if I wasn’t your employee, after the show you would have found me in your dressing room bent over on the table.”
“Waiting for you to come in there, all sweaty and ready to strip that teeny fucking vest off, and put your mouth to use.”
He’s got a dusting of red over his own cheeks now, blood rushing to his cock as he realised he cracked you open now. Your dirty words spilling out of your mouth after holding back seemingly since last night.
“That what you would’ve done? Bent yourself over my dressing room table waiting for me like a pretty little post-show gift?”
“Maybe so.” You feed into it, watching as his eyes darken with desire.
He sighs out, standing up promptly, “Alright, darling. I’m gonna offer you something. You don’t have to agree, but if you do we can stop at any time. Okay?”
“What exactly are you offering?” You ask as leans his tall frame down to you, hands bracketed on your hips.
“For me to pick you up, put you on that bed and strip you until I can bury my head between your legs.” He stated, matter of factly.
Your thighs are shaking so hard you’re clenching them together— clit throbbing at the pressure.
You can only look up at him and nod, to which he doesn’t take as an answer.
“Baby, need you to use your words. Tell me what you want.”
“Yes, Harry. Want that please.” You whine, very quickly becoming delusional at his close proximity.
He grunts as he picks you up, his arms firm around your body and he carry’s you the few feet to the bed. His lips hot as they suddenly come in contact with your jaw.
He pushes your legs open with his thigh, making you moan and push your hips forward.
“Needy girl.” He whispers, voice dirty and hot near your ear as he sucks on the skin below it.
His hands cascade down your body, finding the waistband of your sweatpants and tugging it down.
“Please, please touch me.” You’re wild, bucking your hips up. Wanting to get his tongue on you so bad.
He chuckles at your sudden spiral, how quickly you’ve unravelled before him. Truly like a present, all laid out waiting just for him.
He palms his hand over your damp front, “Soaking through already, fuckin’ hell.”
You groan as he rubs a pressured circle on your fabric-covered clit.
“Want to tell me who got you so wet?” He coos, slowly moving his fingers over you as he waits for an answer.
You give it to him shamelessly, “You. Want you so badly.”
He’s over the moon to finally have you like this. Because it became apparent rather quickly the crush he’d developed on you since you were hired. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t fucked his fist at the thought of getting to touch you.
“Oh, you’re being so good for me now. Because I’ve got my hand between your pretty legs I bet.”
You cant even respond as he slides your drenched underwear down away from your tingling core.
He audibly groans at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy. Watching as you squirm under his stare.
“Jesus fuck, Y/N. How long have you been hiding this gorgeous cunt from me?”
“Too long.” You whimper.
His fingers slid through you, and he gathered up your arousal to play with your clit. Relishing the way it slides under his fingertips.
You were clenching around nothing as he gently rolled your clit between calloused fingers. Playing with it until you were a mess. Moaning and grinding up against his fingers. Begging for what he’d promised earlier.
“Your mouth, Harry. Need it. Anywhere.”
“S’that why your little hole is clenching so hard? Like it’s begging for me.” He watched, mesmerised as your hole pulsed around nothing, and leaked more clear arousal.
You look so delicious to him. And he took a moment to appreciate the fact you were about to let him clean up all that arousal pooling at your hole
He sunk down between your legs very slowly. Distracting himself a few times with mouthing over your fabric covered breasts.
Eventually making it there, so he could blow over your clit, letting you squirm at the teasing stimulation. You smelt amazing too, your sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.
He was grabbing at his cock, pushing at it trying to relieve pressure down there as he peppered kisses along your inner thigh.
“Stop teasing, H. Please I— fuck.” You hissed as he bit the seam of skin of your thigh.
“Cant handle it huh? Are you gonna come before I even get my tongue on you.”
“Want to finish around your mouth.” You plead with him. And he shakes his head with a laugh, anticipating your reaction as he leans forward to drag a long stroke through your slit.
Your whole body shakes with a moan. His velvety, hot tongue immediately leaving you a wreck.
“Harryyy…” You cry out, bucking your hips into his face.
“Gonna ruin your cunt, darling.” He murmurs into you, and you know it’s true with the way your hole is clenching.
He sucks your clit into his mouth before placing fast strokes over it. Flicking and rolling it between his tongue and lips.
The sounds of him lapping up your pussy are echoing through the room, further fuelling the fire that’s started in you.
Your whole jaw goes lax as he moves further down, gliding over your hole— pushing his tongue past your entrance.
“Fuck!” You moan, hips jolting, causing his hands to slide up and hold them into place.
He slides it into you as far as he can, nose bumping your clit. Making you realise very quickly that you’re going to finish around his mouth.
He moans into you, again the vibrations makes you writhe in his tight grip. “I- Harry- more!”
It’s making your whole body shake, and he’s pressed so far into you that it’s all you can feel. And it’s obvious that you’re about to come, just with the way your cunt is pulsing around his mouth.
“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Harry, please, I’m gonna come!” You felt the burning spark fly through you, hitting you like a truck when his tongue curled and rocked inside you.
He’s humming and pressing himself so close you genuinely think he can’t breathe. And you realise immediately when the rubber band in snapped inside of you.
It gushed through your whole body, making you moan and cry in his grip. He couldn’t even explain the feeling of having you clenching around his tongue. It almost made him finish in his pants.
He lapped up every single drop he could. But he didn’t stop.
Your clit was so sensitive as he came back up to it with the same intensive pace.
You tried to push him off, “be a good girl, baby, give me another one.”
“So sensitive, Harry.” You whined, hand threading into his soft hair.
“Y’can take it.” He states, going back to sucking on your clit, and the outside of your entrance.
It made you a mess. A proper fucking mess.
You legs were being spread wide by the palm of his hands, and you were almost crying at how sensitive your pussy was.
You were always a five-minute-scroll-break kind of girl when it came to masturbation. So this came as a whole shock to your body. And it was so fucking hot from his perspective.
All he could hear was your filthy fucking whines, begging him one minute to stop and the next to go faster. And he was going insane at how sensitive your little hole was.
That was all he could feel. The clenching of your cunt, the absolute shaking mess your body was becoming.
His tongue flicked over your clit, just as you imagined he would after seeing him last night. And it was getting to messy, your arousal absolutely coating his mouth and chin.
“I-“ a deep suck of your clit, “I’m gonna fucking come!”
You writhed the whole way through your orgasm. Fucking into his face like it was a toy, grinding into it so hard your sure he was completely consumed by you.
And as you came down from the high, still shaking, he cleaned up down there again. Too good to waste, was his thought process. ‘You tasted like a dream’ you’re pretty sure you hear him mutter against you at some point.
His thumbs run over the dips of your hips to bring you back down to earth.
“Good girl, Baby. Took my mouth so fucking well.” He presses a final kiss on your clit as he stood up, your hands dragging up his back did.
“Feeling a little better too, i hope.”
“Yes. So good. H.” You panted, still in a bit of a daze.
“Next time,” he peppered a kiss on you shoulder, “tell me when you’re feeling all worked up okay.”
You nodded, hands sliding to rest in his hair.
“Or by all means, lay yourself out in my dressing room so I can make make come like you deserve.” He smiles at your little nod, still so out of it.
“My little gift, hm?” He coos, stroking a gentle hand down your face.
And he knows he’d do this moment a thousand times over with you. Just to see that smile flash over your lips.
———
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles barcelona#he is so fucking hot I cant#that clip 🧎♀️#smut
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Love Of My Life
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Part 5
Masterlist // Series Masterlist
Summary: Four moments leading up to the big day, and the moment you and Max have been dreaming of.
a/n: I actually have SO much to say but I will save it for the end or maybe a separate post. title thanks to Mr. Harry Styles. Hope you all enjoy this one!
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content
1. something old
“You should come over Friday,” Louise tells you over the phone. “I’m having some friends over, you’ll love them. It’ll be fun.”
You don’t have anything better to do, really. You’ve had a hard time making friends since you moved here- people were still hesitant to socialize due to Covid. But things are opening back up now, and the one friend you have made wants to introduce you to more people. You should take the chance. You’d be silly not to.
So you head over with a bottle of white wine. You slip your coat off at the door, finding the apartment full of people. You’re suddenly anxious. You don’t know anyone here besides Louise, and you feel like such an outsider already. These people are all already friends, why would you think you could just insert yourself?
Just as you’re thinking about putting your coat back on and pretending you were never there, Louise spots you in the hallway. She calls out your name and beckons you over. Now you’re stuck. There’s no escaping anymore.
She greets you with a hug, squealing in your ear- you can tell she’s already tipsy. You hug her back and smile at her when she pulls away.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in her apartment. “I’ve got so many people I want you to meet.”
She takes you to the kitchen first, where there’s a wide array of alcohol and mixers. You help yourself to a tequila & soda. Then she holds your hand and pulls you through the crowd, making stops along the way. She introduces you to all her friends one by one, and you start to put faces to the names in the stories she’s told you. Everyone is kind and excited to meet you- apparently, they’ve heard a lot about you, too.
By the time you meet Max, you’re three drinks in. Louise doesn’t give you any sort of heads up. You suppose it shouldn’t really matter- to her, he’s just her friend Max. You’re not a big F1 fan, but you know enough to know who Max is. So when you’re suddenly face to face with him in a crowded apartment?
You handle it well, all things considered. The alcohol helps, keeps your hand from shaking when you give him a little wave as Louise gushes about you. Max helps, too- for someone who should be intimidating, he’s incredibly kind. It’s not long before Louise is dragging you off again, someone else she needs you to meet.
Max yells after the two of you, his hand cupped around his mouth. “Nice to meet you!”
You echo it back and laugh as she drags you away. You don’t see him again that night, but Max’s soft smile stays imprinted in the back of your brain for days.
2. something new
Just before Christmas, you and Max host a party. Half your friends are out of town visiting family, but you invite the people who are there to come over for dinner and drinks and games. Daniel, who is usually first to arrive and last to leave, gets there far too early. He rings the doorbell and Max looks at you with a wide grin. He has oven mitts on his hands, and he’s wearing an apron. It’s all very domestic, and it makes your heart sing.
“I’ll get it,” you say, sliding off the kitchen stool and heading for the door.
You take a deep breath before you open it. Daniel comes tumbling in, arms full of food and drinks, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He’s grinning so wide at you that for a moment you think he already knows, but Max had sworn he hadn’t told him yet. He heads towards the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute, but when he turns over his shoulder to look at you he stops in his tracks. He cocks his head at you.
“Something’s different,” he says, one brow quirked. “Did you cut your hair? Something’s… new.”
You shake your head and frown at him. He frowns right back. Then he drops the bottles and bags of food on the couch. He casts a glance towards the kitchen, where Max has his head in the fridge. For a second, you’re worried about what he’s going to ask you.
Then he reaches for your left hand, and you start to laugh.
His grin grows impossibly wider when he spots the ring on your finger. He pulls you into a tight hug before he says anything. You hear Max let out a noise of confusion in the kitchen, but you’re busy hugging Daniel back.
“Congrats,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
You laugh, tears suddenly threatening to build up in your eyes. “Thank you. And. Thank you,” you say. “For picking me up and bringing me here that night.”
He nods, squeezes his arms around you once more before he pulls away. Max is standing at the kitchen island, watching the two of you with a soft smile.
“Told you he’d notice immediately,” he says. “Lando’s the one who’ll be oblivious.”
Daniel charges across the room to get to Max and wraps him up in a bear hug. Max reciprocates happily, smiling at you over his friend’s shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long time.
“Wait, so is this an engagement party?” He asks, and Max laughs. “Wait, when did you ask her?”
“Just after we got back from Japan,” you answer.
Daniel turns to you, eyes wide. “You little assholes! You’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks?”
He shoves Max’s shoulder lightly. Max shoves him back. Before long, the two of them are playfully wrestling in the kitchen. The timer on the oven goes off, but it doesn’t seem to stop either of them. You sigh, walk over, take the oven mits from the counter, and sidestep the scramble to get to the oven and pull the tray of cookies out.
Louise walks in without knocking and takes in the entire situation- you, a tray of cookies in your hands, Daniel, his arms around Max, Max, with Daniel in a headlock, and she starts to laugh.
“Oh my god, did you guys get engaged?” She asks.
“How did you know?” Max squeaks- Daniel’s pinched his side mid sentence.
“You’re wearing an apron that says fiancé,” Louise laughs.
You collapse into laughter, barely making sure to set the cookies down on the counter. You’d forgotten about the apron, a gag gift from you to him that he’d insisted on actually wearing. Max looks down at his own chest, tucking his chin comically to do so. He still has Daniel in a headlock. The other man is jabbing at Max’s stomach now.
“Huh. Forgot about that,” he says with a shrug.
“Let me see the ring!” Louise says, making her way towards you.
“Shoes off!” Both you and Max call out, pointing at her feet.
She sighs and shares a look of exasperation with Daniel. He rolls his eyes in agreement. Max sees and remembers his previous fight with Daniel, and seems to decide to return to that, shoving his elbow into his friend’s side.
You ignore them and head for Louise, holding your hand out to her. She squeals over the ring, holding onto your hand tightly, eyes lit up.
“Wouldn’t be here without you,” you tell her.
“And that awful strawberry wine,” she says knowingly.
She’s not exactly wrong. Without that night, the strawberry wine that everyone else hated but you and Max liked, you’re not sure what would’ve happened. You like to believe you would’ve found your way to each other- something else to have in common, something else to share. But you wouldn’t trade any of those shared bottles of wine for the entire world. You treasure each moment.
“They got engaged like three weeks ago!” Daniel calls out. “They’re assholes!”
You slip the ring off your finger and turn it around so Louise can see the strawberry, and you watch her face crumple into a sob. You laugh and feel yours do the same.
“Shit,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean it.”
Max gives up on wrestling Daniel. “Baby?”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, as you pull Louise into a hug. “Happy tears.”
3. something borrowed
You follow Max to Bahrain for the beginning of the F1 season. He’s often busy before he gets in the car, and you usually spend the time hanging out in hospitality or in the garage. But before the first practice of the season, he finds you and pulls you to the side.
He slips the bracelet you gave him from his wrist and hands it to you. “Keep this safe for me?”
You know the rest of his jewelry- his other bracelets, his watch, and any rings he’d worn- are sitting in his driver room. Your chest warms at the thought that he’s worn this one as long as possible, and that he wants you to hold onto it. You smile up at him and slide the bracelet into your own wrist. It’s a bit too big, but it’ll work.
“Sure, I’ll just borrow it for now,” you tell him.
A wide, soft smile spreads across Max’s lips. “Oh. That’s. That’s nice.”
His face has morphed into something warm and full of affection. His eyes are trained on the bracelet, sitting on your wrist, the way it hangs loosely against the base of your hand. It’s comforting to you, too.
You laugh, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You big sap.”
He brushes his thumb against your wrist and kisses your forehead. “But I’m yours.”
“Yeah, you are,” you say, and you kiss his cheek. “Forever. I’ll see you soon, love.”
After the practice, he finds you, his race suit tied around his waist. He pulls you into a hug, and you slip the bracelet off your wrist and onto his. And so, the tradition begins.
By the end of the race the next weekend, the two of you have it down to a science. He takes it off just before he heads to the grid, leaves it with you. You rub your thumb against the metal during the race, wrap your whole hand around it during the more stressful moments. The cold metal against the palm of your other hand is grounding, somehow. When he crosses the finish line in first, you run to greet him with the crew. He pulls you halfway over the barricade when he finds you, helmet still on, and you press your lips to the top of it as he holds you, strong arms right around your middle. He smells like sweat and shakes with the adrenaline of it all. There are people slapping his shoulders eagerly, people reaching to tap his helmet, but for just a moment, all he’s focused on is you. He reaches for your wrist.
You slip the bracelet off and put it back on his wrist for him. You watch his shoulders relax, like the last bit of tension is draining away. You hold onto the sides of his helmet, staring into his eyes, which are nearly squeezed shut. He holds your face in his hands for just a moment, fingers pressed to your skin.
He’s going to be your husband. In all of this chaos, you’re the person he wants by his side, the first one he runs to. It hits you like a freight train, and you swallow down the tears.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, smiling through all of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you tell him, as you let go of him.
Someone pulls him away- he has other things he has to do now. But he’ll come back to you. He always does.
4. something blue
Soon, it’s late summer in Monaco. The hazy afternoon sun is about to slip below the horizon. You’ve just climbed out of bed after a long nap with Max, both of you having been exhausted from the race weekend and the journey back home. For once, you’d been the one trying to coax him to stay in bed. He’d insisted on getting up, on trying to scrape together dinner from what’s left of the groceries in your apartment. So far, you haven’t made much progress beyond opening a bottle of wine and starting a playlist playing.
“Maybe this could be a first dance song,” you suggest, some sappy love song playing over the speakers in the kitchen.
Max shakes his head, wrinkles his nose. “You don’t even know this song.”
“Sounds pretty.”
“It has to mean something, no?” He says, reaching out and pulling you close. “Not just… sounds pretty.”
“Yeah, but… how do we pick a song that sums it all up?” You ask, and his shoulders drop. “I mean. Have you found the song yet?”
“I have ideas,” he says.
“So do I,” you answer, and then you sigh. “But I don’t think any of them are the one.”
Max stands there, hands on your hips. “Let’s test them out,” he says.
You blink up at him, sliding your hands up his abdomen. “Now?”
You look down at yourself, and at him. He’s shirtless, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants and socks. You’re not much more dressed- one of his navy Red Bull tshirts, big enough that it falls down to mid thigh, nothing but your underwear underneath, a pair of light blue cable knit socks on your feet. Your hair is a mess. There are definitely dark circles under your eyes, courtesy of your near-permanent jet lag.
“Yeah, now,” he says, brushing his thumbs against your hips. “You’ve got a list, so do I. How are we going to know which one’s right till we try them out?”
You shrug, then nod, reaching for your phone. You open your music, scrolling to the playlist you’ve already made. Max looks at the screen upside down, trying to read the names of the songs. When the first one begins to play, he takes you into his arms and starts to dance.
The kitchen is big, but it’s no dance floor. The living room might be better, but he seems insistent on staying put. The two of you sway on the tile floors, careful not to bump your hips on the countertops. He spins you in dizzying circles, ones that make you laugh and smile and send you crashing back into his chest. And when you’ve heard enough of each song to know it’s not the song, you skip it.
“Too boring,” he says about one.
“Too cheesy,” you respond to another.
He wrinkles his nose at the next one. “This is even cheesier.”
It’s not long until you’ve exhausted both of your lists. You sigh in defeat, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand sweeps up your back.
“We’ll find it,” you tell him. “Or we’ll get Charles to write us a song.”
Max snorts out a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“He was the first of your friends that I met, you know,” you remind him with a teasing lilt.
He bends his head to kiss your forehead, but he stops halfway. His brows furrow. Then he reaches for your phone off the counter, swiping to open it.
“What?” You ask, softly.
“Danny- he suggested a song, a while ago. A long time ago, actually-“ he says. “I had forgotten about it. But. We should try, no?”
You nod. He pressed play. You don’t recognize the song as the first chords play out, but you’ll give it a shot. You rest your head against Max’s chest, let him hold you and sway back and forth. For a moment, you think you’re starting to feel it. That this might be the song. There’s a flutter in your chest.
And then the chorus hits, and you hear the lyrics, and you just know. You look up at Max with tears in your eyes and you know he feels it too. The sun is long gone, now, and the kitchen is filled with that blue, post sunset light. It matches Max’s eyes, brings out the color in them. He leans you back in the kitchen of your apartment and kisses you like you’re his wife- like this could be your first dance at your wedding. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him right back.
You’re not sure how many times you listen to that song that night. Enough to learn all the lyrics, enough to commit the feeling of it to memory. By the end of the night, Max is singing it to you while you wash your face and laugh, and you’re humming it while you climb into bed. You lay there, your head on the pillow, looking over at him. Neither of you can wipe the giant smiles off your lips.
5. and a sixpence in your shoe
You wake up just after the sun on a Saturday morning in early January. The year is still fresh, and Max is in bed next to you. He’s got his arm around your waist, face pressed into the pillow. The sight makes you smile.
Today, you get to marry him. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. As Max starts to wake up, you see the smile slip across his face, too. He opens his eyes and meets yours, and the smile only grows. He reaches out, runs the back of his finger over your cheek.
“My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, softly.
You laugh. “My handsome boyfriend.”
“We have to use that up, you know. Say it while we still can,” he says.
He tugs at your side to pull you closer. You go easily.
“We’re getting married today,” you say to him.
He nods, eyes tracing your face. “Any second thoughts? Cold feet?”
You laugh and bury your face in his chest. You press your feet to his calves and he hisses, rolling over on top of you in retaliation. He presses quick, ticklish kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, and you squeal and try to push him away. He’s much stronger, though, and he keeps you pinned under him.
“My feet are always cold,” you tell him. “But no second thoughts. I’m all in.”
“Are we getting married or playing poker?” He teases. When you groan and shove at his shoulder lightly, he laughs into your neck.
“What about you? Second thoughts?” You ask.
Max laughs again, louder this time. He presses himself closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses the hinge of your jaw gently. His nose brushes against your temple, then, as he presses his lips to your ear.
“Never,” he whispers, making you shiver. “I’m all in, too.”
He pulls away to look at your face, and you’re met with a soft gaze that sends your heart into overdrive. He leans close, lips aiming for yours, his nose bumping against your nose. You let your eyes fall shut, and then there’s someone knocking on your front door, loudly.
“You two better be decent!” Daniel calls out. “We’re here, time to get up!”
You sigh, throwing your head back on the pillow. Max lets out a long, loud groan, hands suddenly everywhere on your body, like he’s trying to get as much touching in as he can before it’s too late. You laugh and try to push him away again, but it’s no use.
“Why’d we tell him to come get us so early?” Max says, bordering on a whine. “And why did he listen to us?”
“He’s your best man,” you remind him. “You chose him.”
There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s your wedding day!” This time it’s Louise, who’s your maid of honor.
You sigh and try to sit up, bringing Max with you. He doesn’t go easily, or willingly. He seems perfectly content to stay tucked in bed, despite the threats from your friends. In fact, the second you’re halfway sitting up, he’s trying to push you back down onto the pillows.
“Max. I’m not wearing a shirt,” you hiss, gesturing down at yourself. “And Danny is threatening to come in here-“
Max sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, we’re getting up,” he calls out. “Give us a minute to get dressed, yeah?”
You meet the two of them in the kitchen ten minutes later. Max is in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, while you’re in a cream lounge set your friend Audrey bought you as a wedding shower gift. You have one of Max’s shirts overtop of it, unbuttoned and hanging like a jacket. Daniel and Louise are sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee and breakfast waiting for both you and Max. Your friends greet each of you with hugs and then rush you both out the door.
You ride to the wedding venue together, and even as you head to get ready, you don’t separate. This is what you both decided- you get ready for every other big event in your lives together, side by side, so why would this one be any different? Your friends all join you, your family members too, trickling in and out of the space. The morning is full of love and light. Max sits next to you and watches you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup artist has to tell him to stop making you laugh- she’s worried she’s going to mess up your lipstick.
Max just grins and shakes his head. “We can’t have that,” he teases. “That’s my job.”
You wait until the last possible second to put on your dress. That’s when you leave Max’s side, letting go of him until you meet him at the end of the aisle. He's in his tux, a blue bow tie around his neck. There’s this peaceful smile on his face, one that grounds you and comforts you every time you see it. He kisses your temple to avoid messing up your makeup, and you smile up at him softly.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, see you soon,” you answer, feeling giddy.
The wedding itself is a tiny, intimate affair. Just your closest friends and family and someone to officiate. You can see the garden where you’re going to get married from the room you’ve been getting ready in. The guests are all in the seats- your family and Max’s in the front row. GP and his wife are there, craning their necks when they spot Max. Lando is there, sitting next to Martin. Your mutual friends take up a whole row, the ones you met the same night you met Max, the ones who welcomed you with open arms. A whole lot of love in such a little space.
You take a deep breath and head downstairs with Louise, who helps make sure your dress is perfect before you head down the aisle. You stay hidden, watching through a window as Max walks down to the front. Daniel gives you a gentle hug, tears already forming in his eyes. Then the music begins, and Louise grabs you by the shoulders.
“This is your last chance,” she says. “I can be your getaway car.”
You laugh, tears already forming in your eyes, and you shake your head. “No. No second thoughts, no cold feet. I’ve never been more sure.”
She grins at you and squeezes your shoulders. “Cool, because we would’ve had to steal Danny’s car. Oh, I have something for you.”
She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a coin- a sixpence. Suddenly, you remember the old rhyme, and panic rushes through your body. She’s smiling, though, and shaking her head.
“Something old,” she says, pointing at the vintage bracelet you’d been gifted by Max’s mother for the day. “The something new is the perfume you bought special for today.”
“Something borrowed,” Daniel chimes in, a wide grin on his face, “is the pair of cufflinks I lent Max. And something blue-“
“His bow tie,” you say, softly. “I picked it because it brings out his eyes, but… it works, right?”
Daniel and Louise both nod, grinning brightly. Tears are already forming in your eyes. Louise swipes them away quickly with a tissue as you slip one of your heels off and place the coin there. You take a deep breath.
“Now I’m ready,” you say with a firm nod.
But really, you’ve been ready since the day you met him.
The rest of it is a bit of a blur. It’s like one moment, you’re standing there, watching it all from the outside. Then the next, you’re at the front with Max, his hands in yours, tears in both of your eyes. You hate crowds, hate public speaking, but for him you’d do anything. For him, you’d shout it all from the rooftops.
He has that soft look on his face, the one that makes you melt every time. His cheeks are rosy red, and you have to fight the urge to sweep your thumb against his face, to lean in and kiss him right there. You barely hear what the officiant is saying, but that’s okay because you already know it by heart.
“Now, I believe the two of you have prepared vows?” The officiant says. “Max, would you like to start us off?”
Max nods, squeezes your hands, smiles at you. You smile right back and hold onto him tightly.
“My wonderful love,” he says, voice so soft and tender it makes your chest hurt. “I spent a lot of my life before I met you wondering how you know when it’s love. But you’ve taught me that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice. At every turn, I choose you, and you have done the same. You’re my sunshine, my quiet in the noise. So in all the messes, in the stressful days, I love you. Not in spite of, or anyways. I love you in all of it, the good and the tough parts. I’d choose you over and over again.” He squeezes your hands softly. “I promise to save you the best strawberries, to listen when you need to talk, to talk when you need to listen. Most of all, I promise to always walk you home.”
God, you love him. You love him so much it’ll burn you up, so much it aches deep in your chest. You can’t quite believe that you get to spend your whole life with him. You hold onto his hands and blink away tears. His blue eyes stare straight into yours, calm and kind as always. If you could, you’d kiss him right then and there. You take a deep breath instead and begin to speak.
“I heard a quote once, that said there are years that ask questions and years that answer. I think that since I’ve met you, it’s all felt like an answer to a question I didn’t even know I had. You pick me up when I fall, you cheer me on when I succeed, and I love being able to do the same for you,” you say, softly. “I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with you, from the dances in our kitchen to watching you win on the racetrack. You’re the best part of my life, my steady rock, my anchor in a storm. I can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I promise to always share the wine, to cheer you on, to be the sane person in a room full of chaos.” He grins widely at that, eyes glittering with tears. “Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”
Then it’s the I dos and the rings, handed to you by Daniel, who’s got tears in his eyes. Your hands shake as you slip the ring onto his finger. Max’s do too. The bands sit perfectly on your fingers, and you can’t take your eyes off Max’s hand- the ring, the bracelet, too. When you finally drag your gaze away, you look up at him again, tears slipping down your cheeks. His face mirrors yours, teary eyed but oh-so-happy.
When the officiant tells him to kiss the bride, he sweeps you up in his arms, the same way he did in the hallway of the club all that time ago, when you were still unsure, when you didn’t realize he wanted this, too. He kisses you sweetly, holds you close, and you feel it in every bone in your body, every muscle, every nerve. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You could do this forever. Forever and ever.
…..
While the wedding was small, the reception is huge, and it’s packed with people. Everyone you or Max have ever spoken to seems to be there. There’s good food, better drinks, and enough strawberry wine to supply the entire city for a month, you’re sure. Someone forces you and Max to sit and eat dinner- you do your best. Then you wander the reception, hand in hand with him, greeting all of your guests.
You’ve changed dresses since the ceremony- out of your more simple white dress and into a bit more of an elegant one. You give so many hugs you think your arms will fall off, and accept countless compliments on the dress and the decor and the food. People tell you how proud they are of the two of you, how happy they are for you, how in love the two of you look.
You’ve just barely collapsed into your chair again, wincing at the ache already present in your feet, when they announce the first dance. Suddenly, you’re rejuvenated. Max grabs your hand and helps you up, a wide smile on his face.
“My wife,” he says, seemingly never tiring of using your new title. “May I have this dance?”
“My husband,” you respond, smiling. “This dance and every single other one.”
He laughs. It’s incredibly cheesy, overly sappy. But someday, a long time ago, you pulled your heart out of your chest and handed it over to him. And he took it, wrapped it up and held it safely, promised to protect it with his life, and then gave you his in exhchange. You have the right to be sappy and cheesy and emotional. He leads you to the dance floor, a million eyes on you. You just stare into his, and the rest of the world disappears as the song begins to play. It’s not the typical kind of music you two listen to, and it’s probably not what your friends were expecting. But when the chorus plays…
You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey
You're as sweet as strawberry wine
You're as warm as a glass of brandy
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time
You rest your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, one hand linked with yours.
“I love you,” you whisper, fingers dancing in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I love you, liefje,” he says, brushing a kiss against your forehead.
He kisses you on the lips at the end of the song. Everyone cheers, and you smile into it, unable to help yourself. Max raises one fist above your heads, like he’s just won a race, and you start to laugh. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life.
…..
When the reception ends, the afterparty begins. Most of the older or calmer guests head out. Louise helps you change your dress one more time- from the ballgown to a short party dress. You ditch your heels for a pair of white sneakers and sigh in relief at the feeling. By the time you make an appearance, the party is truly in full swing, and you spot Max up on the DJ stand with Lando and Martin. Years ago, if you’d have guessed who’d DJ your wedding afterparty, you’d have never suggested Martin Garrix and Lando Norris, and yet, here you are.
You climb up there with them, greeting your two friends with hugs before sliding up to Max’s side. He’s lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his neatly tied bow tie hangs loose and crooked from his neck. You reach to try and fix it for him. He looks you up and down, a sly smile on his lips.
He wraps his arms around you, letting his hands fall low on your back. “This might be my favorite dress of the day,” he says into your ear.
You shove at his shoulder lightly. “You’re just drunk and horny.”
He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “No, it’s just… you look the most like you in this one. Like the you I fell in love with.” He nudges his foot against your sneakers. “More comfortable, too.”
You feel warm and soft over that, over the way he’s looking at you right now. “Aw, Maxie,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“I mean, you also look hot,” he says, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. “But that is just an added bonus.”
You laugh, your forehead pressed to his chest. There are people all around you, music pounding in your chest, but you’ve got Max, and that’s all you need.
“Should we go dance?” He asks.
You press your lips to his jaw, then his ear. “Yeah, we should.”
The two of you climb down from the platform. Soon enough, you disappear into the crowd of people, his hand linked with yours the whole time.
You stumble out of the club at 3am, Max’s arm wrapped around your waist. Daniel, ever the dutiful best man, is the one to get the two of you into the car, despite Max’s protests that he can walk you home. You wave goodbye to all your friends, who cheer and wave from the sidewalk. Max has his arm around your waist as you lean out the window to hug Louise, and he yelps and pulls you back in when you start to lean too far.
By the time you’re halfway through the elevator ride up to your apartment, you’re pinned between him and the mirrored wall, his lips on yours. It’s messy and hot and you drag your hands down his torso as his hands slide down your back. When the elevator doors slide open on your floor, he picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the front door, pins you against it so he can unlock it, and then stumbles inside, your legs wrapped around his waist. You press your lips to his neck and laugh.
“My wife,” he says, kicking his shoes off and shoving them aside.
You nip at his jaw. “My husband.”
He carries you all the way into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. You’re a giggly mess, covering your face with your hands as he tugs your shoes off your feet for you. When his hands are free, you reach for him, pulling on his dress shirt until it comes untucked from his pants. The motion knocks him off balance, and he catches himself with both hands on either side of your head, face to face with you.
You always love him, really, but he’s your husband now. It makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, makes you giddy and warm inside. You reach for the collar of his shirt and start working on his buttons.
He starts pressing kisses all over your face- your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. Each time you try to chase his lips with your own, he pulls away, kissing some other part of your face. You’re three buttons in on his shirt when you give up, grab for his jaw, and start doing the same to him.
When you pull away, he smiles down at you, and you admire your handiwork. There’s lipstick on his cheeks, now, smudged and messy. There’s a line of it down his jaw, leading to a spot that looks so inviting you have to leave a mark there. You dive in and seal your lips there, pulling a groan from his.
You’ll admit it- you’re the first one to yawn. You have your hands under his shirt, pressed against his warm skin, and his lips are dragging against your neck, and the exhaustion hits you all at once. You cover the yawn with your hand, blinking frantically to try and wake yourself up. You can’t fall asleep during this part of your wedding night.
But. Max’s lips are slow against your neck, and his kisses are messier and messier. You run your fingers along his side and he sighs softly. When you feel him yawn, you nudge his shoulder until he looks up at you. His eyes are half lidded, lips red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.
“Do you really want to have sex right now?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.
“With you? Always,” he mumbles into the bare skin of your collarbone. Then he lets his head drop back against your chest.
“You’re literally falling asleep,” you say, tugging lightly on his hair. You get no reaction. “See? I just pulled your hair, and nothing. That always makes you-“
“Mm. Yeah. Morning sex it is,” he says, nodding against you. “Probably for the best. We have a flight in…” he looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Six hours.”
You groan and cover your face with your hands again. “Why did we do that? It’s your plane, we could’ve picked any time.”
“Your plane, too,” he says against your skin. “Our plane.”
You stare at the ceiling with wide eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex? That sentence was hotter than it should’ve been. Ours.”
Max laughs against you and squeezes your hips. “How about this. We sleep. Wake up at the last possible second. Get in the car, go to the plane. Maybe more sleep. Then, we have-“
“Sex on the plane,” you say with him, nodding. “Fuck, we really are married, huh? We’re scheduling sex.”
“Yes. But it’s okay, because it’s mile high club scheduled sex, so it’s cooler.” Max says, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
Then he shoves at your hips, trying to push you further onto the bed. You go willingly and he follows. The two of you fall asleep still half dressed in your wedding clothes, with his head on your chest and your lipstick all over his face.
…..
You’d had a thought, a long time ago, about a honeymoon phase with Max. It’s what those first weeks had felt like, before anything was official, when you thought nobody knew. Now, you lay between his legs on a beach chair on your actual honeymoon, running your hands through his hair, your chest against his. The morning sun beats down on your skin, warming you up the same way he warms your heart. You look at him, at the smile on his face that matches the one on yours, and you think that maybe this is what relationships are all about. Finding the next honeymoon, the next thing to jump into headfirst, together, hand in hand.
“You’ll walk me home, right?” You’d asked him, so many nights ago in the restaurant lobby.
“Always,” he’d answered.
You look at your rings on your finger, laying against his chest. You feel his ring against your cheek when he cups your face, cold in stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, the warmth of him. Always.
That sounds pretty perfect.
a/n: I actually didn’t know about the sixpence in your shoe part of the wedding rhyme until I wrote this. learn something new every day! anyways. this all started with a oneshot and somehow transformed into this. i have a deeper love for max and a deeper hatred for his affinity for wearing Red Bull merch- it makes it very difficult to make fic headers. thank you to everyone who has helped encourage me while writing this fic, and to everyone who has read any of it i love you all! And now, we say goodbye to the strawberry wine universe, thanks for reading! 🍓🍷
ps. this is the last full part but i might have some blurbs if anyone is interested
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1
#max verstappen series#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fic#formula one fluff#formula one fic#formula one series#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula 1 x you#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 fanfic#honeywrites#mv33#strawberry wine verse
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paparazzi nerves
summary - you get nervous around the paps
word count: >1k
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
You noticed the paparazzi before anyone else did
It had been easy keeping your holiday location a secret from fans, but somehow the paparazzi always seemed to be able to find you.
Harry’s tour had finished only days ago and now you were spending time together, relaxing and having fun. It had been hard to really dedicate time to one another when Harry had been touring every other day, but now it was time for rest.
Harry had rented a couple of small boats to drive over to a little island he had read about in one of his Italian travel books.
Now you were all arriving and soaking up the glorious sunshine, only to be rudely interrupted by the faraway lenses of the paparazzi.
Harry was on another boat, talking to James and Tyler, whilst you remained on a different boat with Gemma.
You and Gemma weren’t the biggest fans of the sun and the heat, so any opportunity to sit in the shade was taken instantly.
Gemma was sat in her pink dungarees, whilst you were sat in your yellow summers dress. The one that Harry said made you look like a summers dream.
As Gemma continued to read, you kept getting distracted by the paparazzi on a boat in the distance.
You’d never been one to really acclimatise to the constant clicking of photos. No doubt they would be focused on taking photos of Harry - especially when he’s sitting there shirtless, but part of you still remained uneasy.
“I might go and see if there’s a toilet nearby.” Gemma said, standing up and rocking the boat slightly.
You nodded, standing up too.
“I’ll go over there.” You pointed to where Harry was. “Just so I’m not alone.”
“Alright.”
Gemma wandered to the front of the boat, but before she can clamber out Harry has made his way over and is now standing at shin length in the sea.
“Y’alright Gem?” He asked and you couldn’t help but smile at how much of a gentleman he was. Always keen to help out and lend a hand.
He offered his hand for Gemma to hold and step out of the boat, which she took gladly.
“Yeah. Just going to the loo. Your missus needs company, though.”
“Oh does she now?” He turned to look at you once Gemma was out safely. He smiled brightly at you, checking you over and admiring how much you were glowing in the Italian sun.
Gemma kissed Harry on the cheeks before leaving.
Harry then jumped the boat and you bit your lip to hide a laugh when he nearly lost his footing. The idiot was trying to show off, not that he had to for you.
“Y’need me, do you?” he asked, walking over to you where you were still standing in the shade.
“Didn’t want to be sat here like a loner. I’d have been like that one photo of Taylor where she’s sat on the back of a boat by herself.”
Harry laughed at that, finding his arms wrapping around you to pull you in for a hug. He squeezed tight and you sighed into his warm chest. His hugs were always the best. Like your own personal teddy bear.
“Never would let you feel lonely, baby.” He kissed your head.
“I know.” Your lips kissed his chest as you spoke, due to how smushed against him you were. “Have you put suncream on?”
“Yes.” Harry whined.
“Oi, I’m just making sure you still look appealing when we’re older and not some wrinkly ball sack.” You explained, making Harry laugh again.
“Is that all I’m here for? Huh? Appeal for you?”
You tilted your head back to face up at him. “I thought you knew that already.”
Harry squinted his eyes and shook his head at you playfully.
What’s worse is that he brought his large hand down to your bum and gave it a pinch through your dress. The moment only lasted a second, but it was enough for you to step away and push him off of you.
“Harry, don’t.” You said sternly.
Harry knew you meant it too, because you used his actual name and not some other endearment.
“Hey, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He said.
You sat down where you had been sitting before and huffed. You ran your hands over your face and tried to breathe slowly.
“No, i’m sorry.” You shook your head.
“What for?” Harry was confused. He sat down next to you, but made sure you had your own space until he knew what he was in for.
“I noticed the paparazzi here before and now I’m just paranoid. I mean, y’know I don’t deal well with them.”
Harry looked around you and only then noticed the small boat of about five photographers. Luckily he was wearing sunglasses to hide his dark stare, but he was severely pissed that they were here. Invading his private time.
What’s worse is that they were making his girlfriend uncomfortable.
“Hey, look at me. Y/N, honey. C’mere.” He twisted your legs to dangle over his and moved your body so that your back was to the paparazzi. “I’m here. Just us.”
You looked at him and noticed how he was only focused on you. You reached to move his sunglasses and pulled them down for a second to look at his eyes. His pupils were dilated slightly with the look of love he had for you. You pushed his glasses back up and settled in closer next to him.
“Just us.” You nodded.
Even though it wasn’t just you and the paparazzi would be taking photos of this moment no doubt, including the one of Harry pinching your bum, it was settling to know that Harry was here and he was doing this with you.
“Screw them. If I want to touch my girlfriend in public, I will.” You gave him a look. “W-with consent of course.”
You laughed then. “Harry I don’t care when, how, why you touch me. I.. I just… Let me know beforehand if we’re in public settings or if the paps are around. Please?”
“Promise.” He nodded seriously.
“Love you.” You reached for his hand and held onto one of his fingers with your entire hand. His hands are massive compared to yours - something the fans are always pointing out and crying over.
“Love you too.” He encompassed your hand with his and rubbed small circles into the back of your hand.
“Can y’kiss me now?”
“Never going to say no.”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles italy#harry styles yacht#harry styles girlfriend
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Caught (OP81)
Summary: Y/n’s and Oscar’s fun in his room takes a surprising, awkward turn very quickly
Warnings: a heavy make out, a conversation about condoms and aftercare
When Harry Met Sally played on the TV as Y/n and Oscar laid tangled together. The house’s usual commotion gone with his parents out to dinner and his sister sleeping over at a friend’s house, the couple got to bask in a peaceful moment amongst the usual chaos. Her hands rested under his shirt, against the warm torso, while his trailed up and down her back. Y/n’s eyes weren’t even on the TV as her head laid against his chest and his mind wandered elsewhere, not paying attention to the sappy scene playing out. With nothing to do and only each other, the two thought of a time where they could do this all the time, a period where they were the only residence in a small house.
Finally, breaking the silence, Oscar whispered, “Is this really your favorite movie?”
Sitting up, her hand left his stomach to rest against his chest, “Yeah, always has been. Why?”
He smiled at her lightly, “Because you aren’t watching it.”
She giggled at his observation, “Well, as long as I can hear it, I can see it. I’ve watched it so many times, I can match the dialogue to the scenes in my head.”
His eyebrows lifted, “You have too much time on your hands.”
Feigning offense, she brought her hand to hold his cheek, “Maybe, but I like it that way.”
His smile getting bigger, Oscar pulled her down, so their lips hovered over one another’s, “I like it that way too. Makes it easier to see you as much as I want to.”
He didn’t give her much time to process what he said, or even respond, as his lips met hers in a soft kiss. What was meant to be a loving peck turned into more as she kissed him back and let her hands wandered down to grip at his waist. Oscar’s hand twisted in her hair as he let his tongue trace her bottom lip. Letting her mouth fall open and Oscar access, he slid his tongue further in, exploring what he wishes.
She didn’t feel his hands moving away from her hair down to the hem of her shirt, too entranced by the feeling of his tongue on her own. But, once she did, he was dragging the thin material up and off her body to reveal his favorite bra, a black lace one that left nothing to the imagination.
Relishing in the sight, he flipped her over, his body now topping hers, so he could peer down at what he only got to see. His favorite part, however, was the way she stared up at him, her y/e/c eyes looking back at him expectantly as his hands moved up her stomach to massage her boobs. His mind short circuited as she let out a small moan and he was quick to pounce on her again, his hands keeping at their ministrations as he kissed her with added fervor.
Through her pleasure-filled brain, Y/n pulled on Oscar’s shirt, giving him the telltale sign she wanted it off. Wanting to give her what she wanted, Oscar broke away from her for a moment to tear off the gray, cotton material. He smiled mischievously when her eyes ogled his defined abs. The boy let her stare for a moment more before resuming their previous activities.
Their lips continued to smack together, masking the sound of the garage opening and doors opening as his parents arrived back home.
“Oscar?” Chris yelled throughout the eerily quiet house. Upon no response, he eyed his wife, Nicole, who just gestured in the direction of his room and muttered something about him usually being holed up in there. Following her direction, his footsteps brought him closer to his son’s room. Hearing the fuzzy noises of a movie coming from within, the father sighed in relief at the confirmation his son was, in fact, home like he said he would be with Y/n.
Knocking, Chris opened the door, “Oscar, your mom and I are home. Is Y/n still her-”
His question was answered as his eyes met the horrifying image. His son on top of his girlfriend, both parties shirtless as he kissed down her stomach.
“DAD??!!!??!” Oscar yelped as the couple’s heads whipped around to see his parent. Chris, the poor man, was gobsmacked, having never even seen the two so much as share more then a small kiss. The couple was very particular about PDA and who fell victim to their lovesick touches, so, when it came to his family, both Y/n and Oscar found they were uncomfortable with the prospect of sharing that much. Because of this, Chris stood, frozen, in the doorway with his mouth agape as his son frantically threw blankets around to cover his half-naked girlfriend, thanking God he hadn’t gotten around to fully taking the bra off her.
His body finally kicking into gear, Chris stuttered out an apology before feverishly closing the door and running in the opposite direction of the cursed situation. Running straight into Nicole, she looked up at him with confusion.
“Why are you running around looking like you’re on the verge of throwing up?” She said as her arms folded across her chest.
Images flashed in his mind that he wished he hadn’t ever seen, “Because I am going to throw up.”
Her face turned from confusion to concern, “What? Why? Have you not been feeling well?”
His hands clawed at his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut which only proved worse when all he could see was the memory, “I should have never gone to check on Oscar.”
The words made her furrow her eyebrows as she couldn’t follow his distress. Well, that was until her son came running out of his room whilst shoving a shirt on and chaotically looking for his father. Approaching him hesitantly, Oscar said, “Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think you guys would be home until later.”
Nicole began to put the pieces together as her child’s beloved girlfriend appeared from behind his door, hair looking disheveled and eyes looking half-dazed. Snickering to herself, she sighed, “Oh, Chris.”
His dad was quick to put up his hands, “No, don’t apologize. It’s okay. You’re 22 and an adult. I should’ve just left you alone since we knew Y/n was here. Just-” His eyes met his son’s, “Next time, lock your door. Even if we aren’t here. Just, please, barricade the door if you have to. I don’t care. Make it so no one can accidentally walk in.”
Nodding quickly, Oscar stood awkwardly before turning around and walking back to his room, pulling Y/n by her arm into the four walls with him.
—
The time read 11 PM as Oscar promised Y/n he’d go get her water because she was too scared to show her face around his house to do it herself.
He tiptoed on the wooden floors before reaching the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting the pitcher out. As he was reaching toward the cabinet filled with glasses, Nicole sauntered in.
Slightly startled, Oscar smiled tightly, already wanting to retreat back to the safe space of his room with his, also embarrassed, girlfriend.
“I’ve been waiting ages for you to leave your corner of this house.” His mom said as she sat herself on the stool closest to him.
Knitting his eyebrows together, he asked, “Why?”
“Because I need to talk to you.” She said immediately.
Putting down the glass and pitcher, he turned his full attention to her serious expression, “Okay, what’s up?”
She held his gaze, trying to breach this topic as easily as possible, “Now that we both know you’re…” She trailed off as she tried to find her words, “sexually active,”
“MOM!” He screeched as his cheeks lit up.
She waved her hand around in his face, “Shhh, your dad’s asleep and God knows how long it took him to get that way seeing as every time he closed his eyes he complained about seeing, and I quote, ‘the horrors of his son growing up’. Anyways, what I was trying to say before you rudely interrupted me,” She gave him a pointed glare, “was that I’m glad you’ve found someone you love enough to share that experience with and all I wish is for you to be safe. Do you have condoms?”
His head dropped into his hands as he groaned, “Mom, please stop.”
“Oscar,” She started, “I’m not going to be one of those moms who refuse to talk about sex with their children because it’s uncomfortable and then have you accidentally knock someone up at the wrong time.”
Seeing her point and wanting to soothe her worrying, Oscar sucked in a breath, “Fine. Yes, I do have condoms which are used.”
She nodded, but didn’t seem satisfied in the slightest, “Okay, that’s a good start. Are you being attentive after it’s done?”
“After it’s done” had him wanting to lie down in his grave and be buried alive as his own mother insinuated him and his girlfriend finishing. But, he persevered, “If you’re talking about…” He scrunched his face up, “like, aftercare then yes. Yes, I am.”
She smiled triumphantly, “Good, Oscar, that’s good. Proud of you.”
He deadpanned, “You’re proud of me for having sex.”
Chuckling and shaking her head, not fazed by the crude topic, she looked at her son, “No, I’m proud of you for being sexually smart. I don’t care that you’re having sex. All I care about is that you’re being safe and not being an ass to a sweet girl.”
He blushed, suddenly shy, “Oh, well…” His gaze flickered to his mom’s knowing grin, “thank you.”
“Oscar, what’s taking you so long. I’m on the verge of death here, baby…” Her soft voice trailed off as she saw his mom present as well, “Oh, hi. I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ll just go back to Oscar’s room.”
Nicole shook her head, already up from her chair and halfway out the room, “Nonsense, I’m already gone.”
And, just like that, she was. The sound of her shared bedroom’s door closing giving Oscar and Y/n the confirmation they were alone again.
“What were you guys talking about?” She asked as Oscar bent at the waist to reach out and pull her into him by her waist.
Snuggled into his side with his hands clutching at her hips, Y/n smiled up at him. Oscar met the eyes of the girl he had fallen in love with years ago as he looked down at her, “Sex.”
Her jaw dropping made him laugh as he untangled himself from her and started walking back to their room, her whispered yells meeting his ears.
“Oscar! What do you mean?” Shuffling as she tried to catch up with him.
Quiet groans left her mouth as he ignored her, “You didn’t even get me my water, dumbass.”
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 x reader#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri imagine#mclaren
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Not Real Just Yet
Day 14: Breeding Kink (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)
(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)
CW: Breeding kink; the appearance of dub-con but with clear consent discussed; smut (PiV, unprotected); 18+ only. Again, this is a breeding KINK with an element of dub-con (but consensual), so if that isn't your thing, pass on this one.
Word Count: 1513
AN: This was requested by an anonymous person! It was also not edited in any way!
It’s not real.
It’s not real just yet because Bob is active duty, often deployed for long stretches.
It’s not real just yet because you’re in a PhD program that requires long, long hours: as you TA for undergrad classes, as you pore over old archived papers buried in colleges across the U.S., as you spend late nights on your thesis.
It’s not real just yet because you and Bob are sometimes just ships passing in the night, and you both hate it, but you’re both committed to each other and see this current pain as paying off in the near future.
It’s not real just yet because Bob, modern though he is, has old-fashioned ideas. He wants to put a ring on your finger first, wants to carry you over the threshold of a shared home, wants to settle into a nice stretch of married life as a couple before adding to your family.
It’s not real just yet. It’s just a fun way of playing around in the bedroom, and it’s more about the power dynamics of the breeding kink. You have an implant, so the risk is minimal, but it’s still fun to pretend.
Bob, the back seater who often feels powerless: he gets to take the dominant role.
You, the harried student who often feels like there’s too much piled on your shoulders: you get to take the submissive role.
-----
It’s not real just yet, but it sure as hell feels real. Bob is finally home from a tour around the South Pacific, and you’ve finally turned in pages to your thesis advisor. You each have the luxury of time, for once, and you turn your respective life frustrations on each other in the best possible way.
It’s easy to forget it’s not real when Bob slides inside you, the wet silky heat of your pussy and not a single barrier to stop him from feeling every sensation. The delicious slickness of your arousal, the molten warmth, the way you bear down when he’s buried in you and whispers in your ear. He whispers the filthiest things he’s ever said in bed with anyone, and sometimes he’s embarrassed in the morning when he remembers it, but the embarrassment never lingers—because he loves you, because he feels safe to explore this side of himself with you.
I’m gonna breed you, sweetheart.
Just take it. Good girl, take it.
Gonna look so good, full of my baby.
Gonna make you a mommy.
Take all of it.
Taking me so good. Can’t wait to see your belly all round with our baby.
Just lie back and take it like a good girl.
He fucks you slowly, deep, purposeful thrusts that he punctuates with his dirty talk. He knows it’s not real, but it’s so easy to fall into the fantasy, especially when you whimper at his words, when you cling to his shoulders and whine out your answering script.
Wait, Bobby…wait…
Maybe we shouldn’t…
It’s all a game, of course. It toes the line of dubious consent but Bob knows it’s all consensual because you never utter the safe word and neither does he. And sometimes he thinks maybe it’s sick, maybe it’s twisted, and maybe no one else would understand it, but when he voices those concerns to you, you always allay them. You always cup his face and tell him that what the two of you do in the privacy of your bedroom is your business and no one else’s.
“Besides,” you told him once. “You have no idea what your pals in Top Gun are into when it comes to kinks. I bet Bagman is a foot fetish weirdo.”
So he pushes those doubts aside because fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s done, exploring all the weird and surprising twists within his own sexuality and yours.
Your first orgasm is always the strongest—maybe because you pretend to fight it, pretend you don’t want this. Bob notices all of your little tells: the way your fingertips dig into the blades of his shoulders until he knows he’ll have dusty little bruises there in the morning. The way your arousal absolutely soaks his pistoning cock, soaks the thatch of rough curls at the base of him. The way you whine out no, please, as if your body is betraying you, and isn’t that part of the fantasy too: that he fucks you so well that you can’t fight off the orgasm he works from you?
“Good girl,” he whispers against your temple. “Good girl, coming for me.” He slows his thrusting, savors the spasms of your aftershocks, allows you to recover.
“Please Bobby,” you breathe out. “It’s too risky—”
He closes his eyes and kisses your temple, feels the sweat making your hair damp. “You think too much,” he murmurs. He shifts his head, nips at your earlobe before he whispers in your ear, “just take it like a good girl.”
“Bobby—”
“You’re going to look so fucking hot, swollen with my baby.” He says that staring into your eyes, which are wide in mock-fear, part of the game, but he can see how wide your pupils are too, your eyes damned near black, and it’s a reassuring reminder that yes, you are into this game too, you’re enjoying it as much as him. And sure enough, there’s the answering clench in your pussy, the way you unconsciously bear down on him as he starts to resume his slow, firm rhythm of fucking you.
And now that you’ve come once, he takes it up a notch, ratchets the moment higher. He gets an arm under your knee and hoists your leg up and out, spreads you out more for him to bury himself in you. It grants him that extra bit of depth into your pussy, and each time he hilts his cock in you, it draws out a low groan from you, a throaty growl that makes the coil of tension in his gut tighten.
Here is usually where the game falters just a bit. Bob’s never had this with any other girlfriend before; sex was always a fraught, anxious thing for him. He always worried about his performance in bed. Most of his girlfriends before you usually laid in bed like a starfish, limp and unresponsive, and it took Bob a long time to realize that it was them, not him, that was the problem.
But sex with you is always good. Sometimes fun and playful, sometimes intimate and soulful. Sometimes, like now, it’s both of you working through your own personal demons—him and his feelings of inadequacy, you and your feelings of overwhelm—but doing it together. Exploring shadowy sides of yourselves in a perfectly safe, perfectly loving way.
How could he not want to put that ring on your finger, carry you over that threshold? Bob could travel the world for the rest of his life and never find anyone half as suited to him as you.
And now, your second orgasm approaches. Now your hands shift from clutching at his shoulders. Your palms lay flat on his chest and you push lightly against him, the climax of your game timed to the climax you’ll share with him.
“Bobby, please,” you pant out. “It’s not s-safe. Pull…pull out—”
But he doesn’t because it’s part of the game, and a beat later, when you arch underneath him, when your eyes flutter shut and you wail out his name, he pushes into you and stills. He feels his own tension snap, and he comes with a pained fuck, baby, take it, and it’s absolutely perfect: the way your pussy ripples against his cock, how it pulls the thick ropes of his cum deeper into the confines of your body.
Here is where the game falls apart. Or, rather, it ends. Sex is a release for both of you, but since you are generally more stressed and wound-up than Bob, you have the habit of giggling directly afterwards. Which might make a lesser man wither, but the tic charms Bob, and now he chuckles along with you.
“Oof,” you breathe out once the laughing passes. You wrap an arm around his neck and pull him down to you. “That was great.”
Bob is still half hard, so he shifts his weight carefully to avoid slipping out of you. He leans his weight on one forearm and gazes down at you with a smile. He brushes gentle kisses across your warm face. “I missed you.”
You smile up at him. “I missed you too. I’m glad you’re home.”
Home. Right now, it’s just a crummy little apartment near campus, but as Bob settles closer to you, he can already picture the future with you: a better apartment or maybe even a house somewhere. You with your PhD, him with his military career. Each of you with rings on your fingers, vows made and received, maybe a dog adopted from a shelter.
And maybe, after that, you can play at your mutual kink for real.
#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd x reader#robert floyd#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x reader#top gun maverick#kinktober 2023#tropes and tales
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