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stylesloveclub · 9 months

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sunshine (part 2)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine (part 1)

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Y/n’s apartment is filled with a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Maddie has a bunch of people over – not really a party, but a fairly large gathering. A few of her school friends, a couple of her co-workers…. nobody that y/n is really close with, though.

That’s why she locked herself in her room, away from the music and the stuffy, smoke-filled air. She said her polite hello and everything, of course! But… she just wasn’t in the mood to hang out with Maddie’s friends. They weren’t really y/n’s type of people, and the smell of weed is giving her a terrible headache.

She bunches up her hair in her fists as she stares at the math problem in front of her. She had been able to do integrals just fine with Harry, but when you add trig into the equation? She’s thoroughly fucked. Not even The Organic Chemistry Tutor could help her work through this problem.

A knock on her door makes her jump. “Come in,” she says politely, though her brows are still furrowed grumpily as she stares at the calculus in front of her.

“S’this room taken?” a deep voice murmurs.

She whips her head around, heart fluttering excitedly in her chest. “Harry,” she says softly. “What are you doing here?”

“Maddie invited Blake,” he says, sitting down on her bed. “And Blake invited me.”

Oh. She should’ve known.

She rolls away from her desk and faces Harry, who’s making himself more than comfortable on her bed, laying down with his head on her pillow. “Smells like shit out there,” he grunts.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. She’s accepted that her apartment will always reek of weed, no matter how hard she tries to get rid of the smell. “Did you smoke anything with them?” she asks.

“No, not in the mood.” Honestly, the only reason he decided to come over with Blake was because he knew that he’d be able to go chill in y/n’s room. Hanging out in Maddie’s smelly apartment was the last thing he wanted to do on a Thursday night, but… he knew y/n would be there, sitting quietly in her room like the good girl she is. “Did you?”

“No.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I– I don’t smoke.”

He snorts. “You don’t smoke but you live with Maddie?” Maddie cannot survive two seconds without her vape. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“The smell of it gives me a headache,” she tries to explain.

“Your apartment literally always smells like weed,” he deadpans.

She blinks. “Yeah…” she trails off quietly. “If I close my door though the smell isn’t that bad.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “What are you working on?” he asks, pointing to the textbook sitting on her desk.

“Um– math.” His lips quirk up, while she pouts. “S’not making sense again.”

“Lemme see,” he says, sitting up. She looks at him for a second, not moving, but when he nods towards her ipad again she scrambles to pick it up and sit next to him on the bed.

“So, what were you going to try and do?” he asks, grabbing her pen. She’s hyper aware of how their thighs are touching, how she can practically feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Um… I feel like I need to use one of the trig rules here but I can’t think of any that would do anything here.”

“Okay you’re right… the issue is that none of your sins or cosins fit any of the rules. But you can break cos^3x down into cos^2x times cosx, right?”

“Okay…” she looks up at him like a lost puppy, still not fully getting it.

“Do you have any trig identities with cos^2x?”

“Um…” she shuffles through her notes, “ cos^2x equals 1 minus sin^2x?”

He nods his head, “yeah. So now that everything is in terms of sin, you can do a u-sub.”

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?”

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look, but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going.

He was nice to her once, helped her with her math homework and comforted her when she cried, and now her heart flutters like crazy when she sees him. Just the smallest rise of Harry’s shirt has her spiraling.

She can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge subtly as he puts his hands behind his head, and finds herself overwhelmed with the fact that this boy – an attractive boy – was just laying in her bed casually.

She knows it’s no big deal for Harry, he’s probably just in here because the living room stinks and he needs to clear his head. But for her, it’s a lot. She never has boys in her room, has never had a romantic interaction with a boy. Hasn’t even been kissed. It’s always just very friendly – getting notes from a guy in her class, joking around with some of Maddie’s friends. She’s never had a boy talk to her any more than that.

Harry, though… Harry comes into her room and talks to her even when there’s a whole party going on outside. He kept her company when she was stranded at his apartment, he took her home and took care of her when she was drunk and emotional. It probably meant nothing to him, but the way he grabbed her ankle and told her to lie down when he was helping her into bed was one of the most tender things she’s ever experienced. He put his hand on her waist, and held her arm while she stumbled, he’d guided her through the door with his hand on the small of her waist.

And when he saw her crying at the library, he came over and talked to her. Comforted her and let her rant about her classes. He’d let her into his room and helped her with her homework, murmured soft praises to her when she got a question right, his arm brushing against hers, or his chest rubbing against her shoulder.

The stupidest little things, that are probably so insignificant for him, have been on her mind for days.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She bites her lip nervously, and her heart stops when Harry’s eyes flicker down to watch. He stares at her with a strange look in his eye… a glimmer in them that she’s only ever read about in books. His eyebrows furrow as though he’s deep in thought, eyes still glued to her lips.

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in.

She thought she was being silly for starting to feel things for him – that she was just being classic y/n, crushing on a guy even though she knows she’s too shy to ever make a move. Now, with how close he is, she can see every freckle on his tan skin, every lash that frames his bright green eyes. She breathes with a tight chest, swallowing thickly as her eyes flicker between his, wide and curious. His eyes still haven’t left her lips.

Her heart stutters as his large hand makes its way to her thigh, his palm warm and smooth, gently grazing her skin. He unconsciously inches closer and closer, incapable of pulling his eyes away from her mouth.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and finally looks her in the eye. His irises have turned a dark green, pupils dilated, and his breathing has deepened. She has no idea what’s going on in his head, but he looks serious. Deep in thought. His hand still rests on her thigh, the contact sending sparks of electricity all over her body, especially when his fingers gently start to trail upwards.

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to take deep, calm breaths, but he’s gotten so close that she can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, inhaling his every exhale. It makes her lightheaded. He’s so close… so, so close…

A loud pounding on the door makes y/n jump away from him.

Her eyes are blown out when she jerks them open, her heart pounding harshly with anticipation that’s been left unsatisfied. “Who is it?” she calls out with a shaky voice.

Harry hasn’t moved an inch. He sits there and stares at her, hand still on her thigh.

“Is Harry in there?” Maddie yells. “Blake is ready to go.”

He brings a hand up and tugs on her bottom lip with his thumb, then watches it bounce back into place, hypnotizing himself with the sight. Y/n, unable to get any words out, sits there and watches him as he stares at her lips.

“Hellooo?” Maddie obnoxiously yells again.

Harry’s nose flares and he shuts his eyes, frustratedly pulling himself away from y/n. She says nothing, still in a daze, watching as he leaves her bed. He stands and runs a hair through his messy curls, before heading towards the door and opening it. Maddie stands in front of the door with her fist raised, ready to knock on the door again.

“Calm down,” he says, eyeing her coldly. Maddie rolls her eyes and walks away to tell Blake that she found Harry.

He turns around for a moment and glances at y/n. “See ya,” he says.

She blinks, her hand coming up to touch her lips, searching for some confirmation that this was real and she hadn’t imagined it. “Bye,” she nearly whispers, breathless.

The door shuts with a click and she finds herself alone with her thoughts. Her math homework sits abandoned on her bed, and will probably remain untouched for the rest of the night.

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Finally, y/n has Harry all to herself.

She’d been dancing around him all night, constantly catching his eye from across the room in a game of cat and mouse. He watched her from the corner of the room he was stationed in with his dark eyes, a teasing smirk on his face. He knew what she was doing – trying to distract him. It was working.

He watched her as she mingled and talked, watched as she sipped on her drink, watched as she weaved her way through the passes of people in her apartment, pushing past the hot bodies and sweaty skin until she disappeared in her room.

He followed her in, less than a minute later.

She hears him walk into the room, the sound of him turning the lock and his heavy footsteps approaching her. A shiver runs down her spine when his hands grab her shoulders from behind, goosebumps rising on her arms almost instantaneously. His firm front pushes against her back, toned stomach pressed against the curve of spine.

His fingers are warm and gentle on her shoulders, comforting yet teasing at the same time. He doesn’t hold her firmly – his featherlight touch more tantalizing than any other form of contact. These light, delicate brushes of his skin keep her on her toes, never knowing what to expect next. She holds her breath as his fingers travel from her shoulders, down the length of her arms.

Suddenly, she feels his lips against her ear. She can’t help the soft, aroused breath that leaves her as his lips skim the shell of her ear. He chuckles, low and taunting, and she can feel the deep reverberations of his chest against her back.

“I’ve been waiting f’this,” he murmurs softly. His warm breath tickles her ear, sending waves of pleasure straight down to her core, and his hands have migrated from her arms to her hips now. He grips them, fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and pulls her back, grinding her into his front. She swallows a whimper down, eyes fluttering shut. A hard bulge presses against her ass, and she can’t resist the urge to press back on it, wriggle her hips even though Harry’s holding her still. “You’ve been teasing me…” he presses a kiss right underneath her earlobe. “Playing all innocent when I know you’re actually filthy.” Another kiss, and another kiss, trailing his lips down the curve of her neck.

She lets out a pathetic, shaky whimper, and it makes him chuckle tauntingly. “Your head is just filled with dirty thoughts, isn’t it?” Her knees go weak as he wraps a hand around her throat, tilting her head to the side so that he can look at her. “Bet you’re just dying for me to fuck you.”

Her eyes are wide and round, and her entire body turns into jelly. The only reason she’s standing right now is because Harry’s holding her up. She can’t get any words out, pathetically wrapped around his finger. She looks up at him with a pleading gaze, begging him to do something… anything…

The sound of her 8 AM alarm yanks her straight out of dreamland.

Her eyes are bleary as she frantically looks around her bed, gathering her bearings. She has to triple check that Harry isn’t anywhere in her room – looking at every corner and patting around her sheets as well – before she can confirm that it was all a dream.

Oh gosh. This is like the third time this week!

She doesn’t mean to be having these dreams. It's a rather embarrassing situation for her and she honest to god would much rather just read a couple of steamy romance books about fictional vampires to get the horniness out of her system, instead of having repeated wet dreams about a very real Harry.

They make her feel icky because, like– isn’t it a bit disrespectful to be having such dirty thoughts about someone who’s just been helping her with her math homework and potentially also kissing her had they not been interrupted? Like what are the boundaries there? You can’t really ask someone for consent to having wet dreams about them… but it’s not like she was consenting to those dreams either! She can’t control what her subconscious mind decides to stir up for her nightly dream!

She tries to logic it out – how would she feel if Harry was having wet dreams about her? Well… actually the thought of it makes her a little bit excited, cos that would mean he likes her, right? Ugh, no, she’s getting distracted!

It’s all very typical horny virgin behavior. Ever since her almost kiss with Harry, her mind has been in shambles. Her first issue is trying to wrap her head around the entire thing – had Harry actually wanted to kiss her? She hadn’t made that up, right?

She’s replayed the night a hundred times in her head. Remembers exactly how his hand felt on her thigh, how he’d stared at her lips, how their eyes had fluttered shut, how their noses brushed… all the things she’s read about in her books! All the ingredients for a first kiss!

How tragic that it’d been interrupted. She thinks that’s why her brain has been overly active this past week – her subconscious has been trying to fulfill the insatisfaction she felt when she jumped away from Harry, just seconds before their lips touched. It feels like she’s been edged over and over again and been denied an orgasm five times – but the orgasm is her first kiss and she’s being edged by Maddie, who stole that kiss away by knocking on her door!

She flops around in her bed frustratedly, smushing her face into her pillow with a sad groan. What if Harry doesn’t wanna kiss her the next time he sees her? What if this was a one time opportunity? She doesn’t want to sound desperate… but she really wanted to kiss Harry! She’d be really sad if it was just a whim of the moment kinda thing.

But also… if it wasn’t just a one time thing… if he did actually want to kiss her… well how was she gonna end up in the situation to be kissed by him again?

She’s thinking about this way too hard, way too early in the morning. And she’s uncomfortably wet from her dream.

She needs to get herself sorted out.

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The chair in front of y/n screeches loudly as it’s pulled from under the table she’s sitting at. She jumps at the sound of it, having been too engrossed in her book to be aware of what’s going on around her. When she looks up, she finds Harry standing at her tiny table in the campus coffee shop.

“Can I sit here?” he asks, his jaw tight. He’s wearing a gray Kendrick Lamar hoodie with the words DAMN. written in bold font across the front, his curly hair messily hidden underneath. All the other tables in the shop were taken (it tends to get pretty busy at noonish when everyone needs somewhere to sit and study), and Harry needs somewhere to sit before his next lecture.

She nods, eyes wide like a baby sheep. It’s quite jarring to just randomly see the guy you’ve been having sexy dreams about – especially for someone like y/n who apparently can’t be normal about having a crush or having an almost first kiss. She hopes she’s acting normal enough to not raise any suspicion.

Trying to not get distracted by his green eyes and pretty pink lips, y/n looks down at the table, but finds herself instead staring at Harry’s hands. He has nice hands, she thinks to herself. The cross tattoo on his left hand compliments his tan skin nicely, and he has these thick knuckles that she just wants to run her fingers over. In one of his hands he holds a coffee cup, and even though she and him both got a medium sized coffee, his drink looks smaller, dwarfed in his massive hands. His thumb is fingering the lid of his drink mindlessly, and she remembers how that same thumb had touched her lips just over a week ago… how he’d tugged on her bottom lip and hypnotized himself with the sight of it bouncing back into place. And while she’s on that train of thought, she can’t help but remember how his hands portrayed such a significant role in her dream last night. Hadn’t she imagined them being wrapped around her throat–?

Harry clears his throat. Y/n glows with heat. She has absolutely no capability of being normal around him. “Sorry, what?” She hadn’t heard a word he’d said in the past minute, too caught up in her own thoughts.

He smirks. Is she always this distracted? “Just asked how it’s going.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah– good, I’m good,” she closes the book, folding the corner of the page she’s on as a bookmark. “How about you?”

He shrugs. “Just got out of class. Needed a coffee.”

“What’d you get?”

“Just a black coffee.”

She can’t stop herself from wrinkling her nose, “Ew.”

He quirks a brow, “Well what’d you get?” “Vanilla latte with oat milk.” Yeah. She would be an oat milk girl.

Considering their recent frequency in seeing each other and his newfound… fondness towards her, he doesn’t find it difficult to start picking and prodding at her, getting to know her. He realizes Blake was right – she wasn’t a super duper shy girl, she probably had just been scared of him. Once he started talking to her and smiling every once in a while, it seems like she loosened up. What used to be painfully awkward conversations have now become free flowing and casual.

He picks up the book she was reading and reads the cover. “Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Awfully fitting for you.”

She furrows her brow, already offended. She hates it when people make fun of her books – especially boys who make fun of her for reading romance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a book lover, aren’t you? Can never find you without your nose in a book.”

She relaxes. “Oh… yeah,” a soft chuckle escapes her. “Yeah, I guess I’m a book lover.”

“You think I’d like this one?” he asks, flipping through the first few pages.

“Um… maybe.” She can’t imagine Harry being a huge fan of her soft romance books. “Are you a reader?”

“God, no,” he puts the book down. “Not smart enough for that.”

Her jaw drops. “You are totally smart, Harry! Way smarter than me!” she exclaims.

“M’just good at math,” he shrugs, “You’re little miss smartie, with your color coded notes. Reading your books for fun.”

She grows shy. Part of her thought that Harry thought she was stupid – not the over-emotional-girl-who-cries-too-much kind of stupid, but rather the kind of stupid that makes you wonder how she even got into this school because she’s doing so bad in math.

It was a massive hit to her girlboss mentality when she had to ask Harry for help, and even though Harry never actually made her feel dumb when answering her questions… she just had this mean voice in the back of her head that constantly nagged her, convincing her that Harry thought she was a stupid girl who should just give up and drop out. And ignoring that voice is really hard, so… it was just nice to hear that he didn’t think she was a stupid little baby. It made that mean voice in her head shut up.

“Um… by the way. My next calc midterm is next Friday. I was wondering if, um…” she tucks her hair behind her ear nervously.

He fills in the rest for her. “Do you want to revise together this weekend?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she says bashfully. “Your tutoring is super helpful.”

“You can come over on Saturday,” he sips on his coffee. “No trouble.”

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“Is this right?” Y/n shows her work to Harry, and he nods. They’re both on his bed, except Harry’s lying down with his head on a pillow, scrolling through tiktok, while y/n’s hunched over her ipad. She’s been doing practice problems for the past three hours, asking Harry for help every once in a while. That's how it’s been most of the night – her study session is mostly just him checking her work to make sure she’s not doing anything funky and giving her hints if she’s stuck.

She’s studied a lot in the past two weeks and luckily doesn’t need Harry to be guiding her through every problem, which makes her really happy. And she’s only gotten a couple of the practice problems wrong! Some of them were particularly tricky and had her stumped, but that’s why she has Harry. He helped her out of roadblocks and kept her motivated. Without him here, she probably would’ve given up after the first question that she didn’t know how to solve.

“You should take a break,” he says.

She’d refused to take any breaks since she got here – determined to finish the practice test that her professor had posted while she had Harry next to her to help. Now that she finished all the problems, she locks her ipad and puts it on Harry’s bedside table. She leans back on one of Harry’s pillows and copies Harry, holding her phone above her face. Except instead of scrolling through tiktok, she opens up her kindle app and starts reading.

He sees the tiny font on her screen from the corner of his eye. “Reading?” he asks.

“Mhm,” she shuffles around on his bed, getting comfortable.

He thinks it’s kind of cute that she’s always reading. “Is it the same one as last time? Book Lovers?”

“No, I finished that one yesterday! This is by the same author though. S’called Beach Read.”

“What’s it about?” he turns off his own phone and sits up, turning to look down at y/n. Her hair is splayed across his pillows, and her eyes glimmer softly in his bedroom lighting.

She feels a little shy describing one of her favorite books to Harry – she’s often been ridiculed by her friends for being so lovey dovey and reading her silly romance books. But he seemed genuine when he asked. “Um– there are these two writers. The girl writes romance and the guy writes like these serious fiction books. And they’re kinda rivals.”

He hums. “Let me read a little bit,” he looks down at the screen of her phone. “I tightened my thighs around the sides of his body–” he reads aloud, before she yanks her phone out of his sight.

“No!” she yelps, turning her phone off and practically throwing it across the room. “You are not allowed to read it!”

He laughs, a fully amused belly laugh, and the sound is beautiful but she doesn’t allow herself to revel in it due to her embarrassment. “What are you reading?” he giggles.

“Oh my gosh,” she hides her face in her hands.

“Didn’t expect you to be reading such dirty stories,” he teases, “I thought you were a good girl.”

“It’s not all dirty!” she defends herself. “It’s– it’s sweet! It’s a love story… it’s romantic.” Her voice gets quiet near the end.

Harry’s laughter bubbles down and he’s left with a smirk on his face, while y/n lays in front of him, an embarrassed pout on her face. “M’only teasing,” he says as he reaches a hand out to rest on her thigh, not wanting her to look so sad. “Read whatever you want. Seems like a cute book, maybe I should pick it up, hm?”

Her mind goes a little blank when his hand meets her thigh, his palm warming her skin once more – just like that night he’d almost kissed her. “Y-yeah, you might like it,” she clears her throat. “S’one of my favorites.”

That same look glazes over Harry’s eyes – that dark look, as if he’s deep in thought.

She swallows thickly. Could this be it? Her second chance at a kiss with Harry?

She pushes herself up on her elbows, more alert. Her palms feel sweaty and she finds her fingers nervously toying with his comforter. A million thoughts are racing in her head as she searches Harry’s eyes, flickering back and forth, trying to see what he might be thinking of. He’s so hard to read. She feels like she’s drowning in his eyes.

Almost as if he can read her thoughts, he leans forwards. She hopes she doesn’t look like an over-eager puppy, but her eyes light up and practically beg him to come closer, to just kiss her! He smiles to himself a bit, and obliges.

With y/n laying on his bed, propped up by her elbows, and Harry already having been sat up on the bed, he doesn’t need to move that much closer for their faces to be aligned. He’s leaning over her, one hand holding him up, while the other hand comes up to her cheek.

She gasps when his large palm comes up to cup her face, his palm on her jaw and fingers sliding into her hair. He inches closer and closer, his eyes fluttering shut when his nose brushes against hers ever so lightly. She can feel the puff of his breathing against her lips, breathing in each of his exhales as she tries to stay calm. She forces her eyes shut, her entire body alive with butterflies.

He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, a force of habit, and nudges his nose against hers. She tilts her head to the side. He teases her for a second, gives her the chance to pull away by just grazing their lips together teasingly, and feels her sharp intake of breath at the contact. He can’t help but smirk against her lips.

With her eyes closed, she’s hyper aware of how it feels. The way his curls brush against her face… the warmth of his palm as he tilts her head upwards… the wetness of his lips as he finally… connects them… in a kiss.

This was it. Her first kiss.

There’s not one thought in her head, a stark contrast to how she’d spent countless sleepless nights overthinking the mechanics of kissing someone. She’d always worried that she’d mess it up, that she’d freeze and wouldn’t know what to do.

But falling into the gentle caress of Harry’s lips is easy. Her nerves spill, her muscles relax, and she just lets herself melt against Harry’s lips. He suckles on her bottom lip gently, folds their lips together, pulls away with soft clicks just to reattach a second later. She sighs dreamily into his mouth and lets herself fall back into the bed, her head against his pillow. He doesn’t let their lips disconnect, following her down and climbing on top of her so that one of his legs is stationed between her thighs.

She wonders if all kisses are this magnificent, or if it’s just Harry. Is it normal to feel your heart stuttering in your chest, or feel electricity flowing through your veins at just the touch of someone’s lips? Would she always lean her face into the palm of his hand, and let herself relax in the bliss of feeling his lips against hers?

It’s wonderful – a head-spinning, heart-fluttering, electrifying kiss.

Harry’s hand that isn’t holding himself up comes down to rest on her thigh, goosebumps rising under his touch. His kisses start to grow more pressured, inhaling sharply and breathing heavily against her, tongue licking at the seam of her lips eagerly. His nose bends against her face as he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tastes the sweet chapstick on her lips. Her skin is warm and soft and plushy underneath his touch, and her lips are addictive.

He uses his grip on her thigh to hike her leg up, fitting his hips between hers and sliding his hand up and down her leg tantalizingly. He can feel her losing her breath, so he forces himself off of her lips and starts kissing down her neck. He skims his lips down, presses wet, hot kisses on her throat, his every breath making her core clench.

She squeezes her eyes shut, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and takes heavy breaths, chest rising and falling shakily. Her hands come up to grab onto him – just hold onto him in any way – and the first thing her hands land on are his biceps. His firm, toned biceps, that are flexing as he hovers above her. In an effort to feel more grounded, she squeezes her fingers, but it just ends up making her even more lightheaded because god he’s so strong and muscular and he’s kissing her right now!

She’s overwhelmed and her head is spinning and it feels like she’s in a dream, an amazing dream that feels so good and that she never wants to end – she can smell his aftershave and his shampoo and his overall yummy boy smell, and her lips are tingling with the aftermath of his kiss. She’d always imagined what it would be like to have her neck kissed and sucked on by a boy and now that it’s happening it’s better than she could’ve ever imagined, and she’s so sensitive, and it’s just different to have a real person touching you and kissing you all over, especially someone that she’s majorly attracted to and–

Harry presses his hips into her center and, wow, if it isn't the most arousing thing she’s ever experienced. Excitement and anticipation fill her veins… but then a trickle of doubt starts to filter in. She’d only just had her first kiss, was she ready to go any further than that?

‘H-Harry,” she says, but it’s more of a moan because his fingers squeeze her hips and he’s kissing right underneath her earlobe right now and it’s sending shivers down all over her body. “M-maybe we should stop.”

“Hm?” He pulls away from where he was buried in her neck, his eyes blown out and lips slicked with a mix of their spit.

“I-I’m not ready to have sex with you, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s okay,” he says, licking his lips. “I could just eat you out.”

And, god, if that doesn’t make her whimper. “I– no, I um…” she stammers over herself.

He smiles. “What is it?” he murmurs, an amused lilt to his voice.

“I… I haven’t done any of… that.” She swallows, looking at him nervously. Her heart, which had once been racing with excitement, now pounds with apprehension. This is the first time she’s been in this position and she’s feeling so vulnerable.

It’s extremely scary and nerve-wracking and Harry’s silence is not doing anything to help her feel better.

“You’re a virgin?” he asks after a beat.

She nods. She feels insecure under his gaze, and even though she’s fully clothed, she feels totally exposed.

He laughs. “Are you really?” he asks again.

Her eyes flash with hurt. She just shared something extremely intimate with him, shared her very first kiss with him… and he was laughing at her?

She feels her heart drop, and her cheeks flame with insecurity.

“Um–" she swallows around the lump developing in her throat. "I should go,” she says, barely over a whisper. She puts her hands on his chest and pushes him away, sliding out from underneath him and climbing out of his bed. Grabbing her ipad, she shoves it into her backpack, along with her notes that were scattered along his desk and her phone lying at the foot of his bed. Her cheeks burn hot and her heart is aching in her chest.

“What?” He doesn’t challenge her when she pushes him away, but he stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed, confused at the sudden mood shift. “What happened?”

She doesn’t answer. Her throat is hurting, the painful lump a tell-tale sign of the tears getting ready to fall.

“Y/n?” he asks again, getting off his bed and walking towards her. All amusement has left his face, brows furrowed in a concerned manner. She shrugs him off when he approaches her.

“Don’t.” She feels embarrassed, her mind only filled with insecurity. He was making fun of her for being a virgin, teasing her. As if she wasn’t already embarrassed enough about it herself.

She’d planned on calling Maddie to come pick her up when she was ready to go, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She leaves his room hastily, before any of the tears can fall, and nearly runs out of his apartment.

She’ll walk home.

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

OMG!!! HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTTTTT HEHEHEHE :-) part 3 is up on my patreon already and will come to tumblr next saturday (augsut 5) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u think and give her a rb and a comment i LOVE U GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!!

sunshine (part 3) - in which y/n just wants to get this whole virginity thing out of the way, and Harry needs to grovel a bit before she forgives him.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles writing #fic rec #harry fic rec #harry styles fic rec

2K notes · View notes

captainfern · 9 months

Note

me, patiently waiting for any marigold updates because i can’t get enough of dbf!price: :3c

(in all seriousness tho i love your work so much you have converted me into a price slut and i am eternally grateful)

(live laugh love barry sloane)

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Marigold pt. 4

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - price is deployed for over four months. photos and phone calls aren’t enough. when he gets home, you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.5k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], exchange of explicit photographs, phone sex, mutual masturbation through the phoneeeee, unprotected piv, oral [f!receiving], fingering, praise, light degradation, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, breeding kink [yk fern be serious when it's in bold], creampies, strong language, fluffy at the end, porn with a bit of plot i guess, um... i think that's it omfg i need to take a breath after typing this

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the longer dbf!price fic i told you all i'd write

*rings little bell* dinner is served whores

Deployment was never easy for Price. Even when he didn't have anyone waiting at home for him, leaving the safety of what was familiar to him was stressful enough. He never showed it, though. He had a taskforce to captain. He couldn't afford to get homesick during missions of life and death.

But now...

Now, things were different.

He had you waiting for him. Sure, you weren't waiting for him in the sanctuary of his home— like he wanted you too— but you were still waiting for him.

So this deployment was especially hard for Price. The night before he left, he popped around to your house to say goodbye to your dad. They talked for a while as you listened in from the top of the stairs. When it was time for Price to leave, he stood at the bottom with his arm resting along the bannister, looking up at you.

"Say bye to Price, honey." Your dad said.

"Bye, Price. Stay safe." You said politely, your dad smiling gently at you.

Price's jaw ticked before he nodded in return. "Thanks."

He wanted nothing more for you to bound down the stairs and launch yourself into his arms. He wanted to hold you tight to him as you whispered in his ear. He wanted to litter your face in kisses and run his hands along your back and arse. He wanted to mutter into your ear, telling you he'll be back to you in no time. Back to you.

Instead, he turned on his heel, your dad offering him a hearty slap on the back as he walked Price onto the front porch. You watched them go, your heart in your throat. Your eyes stung with tears, chest beginning to heave. So, before the emotions could bubble to the surface, you retreated into your bedroom in search of sleep.

You didn't see Price look over his shoulder in search of you.

•º•

Price texted you when he could. Which, to your dismay, was not a lot.

A couple times every week, maybe, if service was good. Most of the time, it was a short burst of conversation. A couple of exchanged words before he was back into the thick of his mission. Even more common, he'd text you a huge paragraph before he went dark for several days, leaving you to reread the heart-warming message over and over again with tears in your vision.

A month passed like this.

During this time, the mission was critical for Price, so you understood why his attention was elsewhere. But, after about six days of anxiously waiting for a text, you got one.

————Hey, sweetheart. How've you been? alright. work sucks as usual. how are you?———— ————Not bad. I miss you. i miss you too. oh my god don't make me cry————

You managed to talk a bit more, before he was gone. With a simple goodbye, and a couple of x's, no more messages came through. You found yourself rereading the conversation over and over again, your stomach knotted with anxiety.

You lay back in bed, snuggling beneath your blankets. It was late, and you had work in the morning, but you doubt you'd be getting much sleep. Your stomach was a swirl of nerves, and sadness continued to simmer in the back of your mind.

You grabbed hold of the neckline of the tee you were wearing, bringing it up to your face and inhaling deeply. It smelt like Price. Your favourite cologne of his, too— all rich and masculine, with a hint of cigar smoke. You whined into the shirt.

You missed him so much.

•º•

Another entire month passed.

Price was on edge, too.

The 141 boys had noticed it. Price was a bit shorter and snappier with them. He smoked an extra cigar each day, too, and would smoke it right to it's last dying embers.

He was still doing his job really well— as soon as they were out on the field, Price let nothing distract him. But, in the solace of a safe house, or other place away from the fighting and shooting, Price's emotions were altered. He found himself checking his phone, despite having absolutely no reception where they were. He spent hours before missions checking, and re-checking the equipment, muttering meticulously to himself.

Gaz tried to ask what had Price so worked up. Price dismissed him, stating it was nothing. Gaz wasn't convinced, but didn't want to get in Price's way. Soap poked fun at his captain, but that didn't last long after a scolding from both Price and Ghost. Ghost would give Price a look when the captain would check his phone for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Something on your mind, captain?" Ghost asked.

Price shook his head. "Nothing, mate."

He was a goddamn liar.

He pulled out his phone again, opening your messages. It had been two weeks since your last conversation. You had been the one to sign off. The time differences were not helpful.

————ok, talk to you later :) stay safe! miss you x

He felt his throat go tight.

Fuck.

He missed you so much.

•º•

Two more months ticked past.

Four months since he'd left.

It was absolute torture for both you and Price.

Luckily, Price and the 141 found themselves hunkering down in an area with reception. Price was ecstatic when he saw those bars appear in the top left corner of his phone screen. Throughout the entire day, he felt as though his phone was burning a hole through his pocket. He was itching to text you. To talk to you.

It was like a shadow, looming over him— the temptation of stepping aside and pulling out his phone so that he could text you.

He wanted to tell you that he was alright, and that he'd be home soon. He and the boys were safe. More importantly, he wanted to know if you were safe— how were you? How was everything at home? At work? What had you been up too? Where have you been recently?

By the time the 141 reached the next safe house for rest, it was late at night. Pitch-black, the taskforce dragged themselves into the house and separated almost immediately, chasing sleep while fending off exhaustion long enough to find a bed or couch. Price found himself across the house, tucked away in one of the rooms as he pulled his phone from his pocket while he kicked off his shoes and prepared to get into bed.

Immediately, his phone screen lit up with numerous text messages from you. He smiled wide, his heart soaring. With a trembling hand, he opened the messages, his heart beating excitedly against his ribcage. The thought of you made his heart race.

————captainnnnn i miss you so much ––––four months is too long i'm going insane ––––i miss you more than anything

Price chewed on his bottom lip, clearing his throat as sadness swelled there. He turned off his phone and blinked into the darkness for a moment, before switching it back on. There was a break in the messages by about an hour, Price noticed.

————fuck price i need you ————open this alone [image] x3

His smile dropped at the most recent text messages, sent just seconds ago. He blinked at the three photos, his mouth dropping open in shock. The shock was quickly replaced by need as his cock hardened in his trousers and he let out a low groan.

You fucking tease.

The first photo was a selfie of you from the waist up— you were wearing his t-shirt, which pooled around you. You were propped up in bed, face shiny with moisturiser, skin dewey with the aftereffects of being fresh out the shower. It was tame, but your nipples showing clearly through the cotton of the shirt made Price's eyebrows quirk in intrigue. A smirk settled on his face, and he spent a good five minutes just looking at your pretty features.

When he swiped to the next photo, he muttered a "fucking hell" out loud. A mirror selfie, with that floor-length mirror you had in your room. You were twisted half away from the camera, with your arse to the mirror and your upper torso towards the side. You wore a tiny fucking thong, the curve of your arse on full display, making Price release a shaky breath. You still wore his shirt, too, but hoisted it up with your free hand, exposing your abdomen and a small sliver of skin from your tits.

Price hands shook as he reluctantly swiped to the next one, his cock painfully hard in his cargos. He quickly unbuckled his belt with his freehand as the last photograph illuminated the screen.

"Christ." Price hissed, dipping his hand into his boxers and pulling his cock out.

You, wearing absolutely fucking nothing, standing in front of your mirror in such a way that Price groaned into the air, tossing his head back. You looked so good, so fucking good. Your bare legs, your hips and thighs, your tummy and waist, your tits. Fuck, you looked so pretty.

He gripped his cock firmly, hissing out a breath, eyes taking in every inch of your body. He quickly spat into his palm, before stroking himself, paying careful attention to the underside of his tip, just like you would.

He groaned lowly, careful not to disturb the rest of the task force across the house. Teeth biting into his bottom lip, he fucked his fist in the darkness, his phone screen illuminating his face in a soft white glow. Your photo on screen, he could imagine the hot suction of your mouth on his cock— the purposeful movements of your tongue along the one prominent vein running up the lefthand side; the cheeky skim of your teeth when you pressed your nose into his hair, tip of his cock at the back of your throat.

"Fuck, pretty girl—" He whispered, dark hooded eyes on his phone, his thumb flicking between each photo.

He could imagine more, too. The tight, wet grip of your cunt around his cock, taking more and more. He choked on a low moan at the thought. Your pretty cunt— always dripping for him, soaking your best underwear as you rode his thigh; the tight heat as you rode his cock, tip slamming into your cervix with soft wet sounds.

Price spat onto the head of his cock again, trying to imagine it was you doing it. The speed of his hand sent wet clicks through the room, paired with deep, hushed grunts and groans. Price had dropped his phone onto the bed next to him, propping it up on the pillow so he could still see your photos. But pleasure was quickly taking over his body, his free hand at his balls as he fucked his fist to the thought of you, you, you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He whispered, movements desperate.

Swiftly, he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it up, biting it between his teeth to expose his abdomen. Groaning around the fabric, he came up his stomach, white splattering along the soft ridges of muscle. He whispered your name as he stroked himself through it; stroked himself until his hips twitched in overstimulation, and his cock softened in his hand, slick with his release.

He breathed hard, hand sticky.

Thinking in an exhausted post-nut haze, he grabbed his phone and snapped a couple pics of himself. Of his cum splattered up across his abdomen, through his happy trail; and of his cock in his hand, painted white.

He wanted to roll his eyes. He felt like a horny fucking teenager.

Price sent you the pair of photos before he made quick work of hurrying to the bathroom and cleaning himself up without waking anyone. When he returned to his room, his phone was illuminating again with more messages.

————holy fuck price oh my god ————fuck you're so hot i can't

Price couldn't help but smile as he settled into bed.

You started it, sweetheart.———— ————yeah. did you like them? I think the photos I just sent make it obvious.———— ————you wanked to my photos captain?

Price laughed. Of course he did. He had a whole collection on his phone, photos and videos, of you in varying states that he fucked his fist too each night he missed you.

Of course I did, pretty girl. Just look at you.———— ————price... You're so fucking beautiful.———— ————price don't make me horny. i have work 😭

Price smiled softly at your messages, his breathing calming. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride in the way you talked to him; how you texted him and called him; how you still called him Price after all this time. Your Captain Price.

Call me later if you can, sweetheart.———— ————i will. miss you so much I miss you too. Have a great day at work.———— ————i'll try. stay safe, old man x

•º•

A week went by. Just one more week until Price was home free. Four and a half months away was brutal.

His emotions were slowly becoming harder and harder to ignore. He found himself thinking of you constantly. He missed you so much it was making him worry— worry about you, about his boys, about the end of the mission. Fuck, his mind was going a hundred miles an hour, but his main thoughts were all about you.

The week didn't have as much contact with you as he would've liked. He found himself fucking his fist to the file of saved videos he had of you— wet cunt taking his fingers, his cock, your mouth whimpering his name, his rank.

Goddamn it, he felt like a teenager. Constantly horny for the pretty girl who sent him nudes. Wanking to said nudes almost every night. What had gotten into him?

He kept thinking about how there was one week until he was home. That kept him going. One week until he could hold you in his arms, hug you, kiss you, absorb your presence. One week until he could shove his cock, his tongue, his fingers into your tight cunt.

He screwed his eyes shut. What the fuck, Price.

It's like you knew he was thinking about you.

Price jolted when his phone vibrated on the table beside his bed. He leaned over and grabbed it, leaning against the headboard and smiling as he saw your name flash on screen. He answered, trying to keep his excitement to hear your voice at bay.

"Hey, pretty girl." He drawled, and he heard you whine softly through the phone, making his smile stretch tenfold.

"Hi, Price," you whispered, and the sound of your voice alone had Price's stomach erupting in butterflies. You sounded tired, as though you'd just woken up.

"Did you wake up to call me?" Price asked.

"Mm... maybe," you replied. "But it's okay. I wanted to call you."

Price chuckled. "Okay, sweetheart. How've you been?"

"Good... mostly..." You said, words stretching out.

"Mostly?"

"Mhm. I miss you."

"I miss you too." Price whispered his reply, throat growing tight. He cleared his throat to try and dislodge the tight, burning sensation.

"Mm... tell me about your day." You said.

Price did. He talked about the mission, and the things that had been happening these past few months. He explained how this week was closing everything up before he'd be home.

Then, silence followed. Price listened to your breathing, wondering what was going on inside that pretty head of yours. He was about to ask, too, when he heard you release a high-pitched whine. This was followed by the rustling of sheets, and a shaky inhale of breath from you.

"You alright?" Price asked, and your response was a low moan.

Price's cheeks flared red as he listened to the soft sounds filtering through the phone. Then, he pressed his tongue to his bottom lip, smiling as he listened to you.

"You touching yourself, pretty girl?"

"Fuck—" You whispered. "Y-yeah. Miss you so m-much and you sound so g-good."

Price chuckled lowly, at the right baritone that made you whimper. Price continued to smile to himself as he dipped his free hand into his boxers and pulled his hardening cock out, giving it a couple of strokes before he began speaking to you.

"Tell me what you're doing," he whispered as his cock hardened more, your noises music to his ears. "Be a good girl and tell me how you're touching yourself."

You moaned. "Ah... 'm using my fingers."

"Yeah?"

"Y-yeah... two."

Price spat into his hand and gripped his cock, spreading it along his length.

"Imagining they're yours," you breathed. "But... fuck— they're not big enough, Price— fuck— s'not you."

You were almost sobbing now, and Price could hear how wet you were. Loud, slick sounds. Hell, it felt like Price was there.

He listened to the way you fucked your fingers into your cunt, the way you sobbed out for him, breathing erratically.

"You sound so fucking wet, sweetheart," Price muttered, fucking his fist. "Such a perfect cunt. Come on, add another finger."

Price heard you sob out a moan as you added another finger into your aching core. Price imagined your body trembling against your bed, hips shunting forward to try and notch your fingers deeper. But they wouldn't go deeper. They weren't Price's.

"Captain—" You moaned sweetly, and that made Price's cock jerk violently in his hand. He cursed as you fought to spit out a sentence through a moan. "Feels so good."

"Yeah? I bet it does, sweetheart. Good girl, keep fucking that pretty wet cunt with your fingers. That’s a good girl." Price whispered deeply, listening to your sounds.

He was breathing hard, too. Grunting and groaning into the phone, making your cunt clench around your fingers. You released whimpers and whines in response as you tried desperately to chase your release using your fingers, imagining they were your captains.

Ultimately though, it was his words that were sending you closer to release.

"That's it, that's it, such a good girl," Price said. "Fuck that pretty cunt. When— ah, fuck— when I get home, I'm gonna stuff you full, sweetheart. Stuff that pretty cunt with my cock. You want that? You want me to fill you up? O'course you fucking do, my perfect girl."

You bit your lip, moaning. "Price, m'gonna—"

"Cum for me. Cum 'round your fingers like a good girl."

Price listened to your orgasm with his mouth agape, fastening the pace of his hand. He whined your name under his breath, breathing hard, no doubt loud where your phone was pressed to your ear.

"Coming, sweetheart," Price panted, lower stomach tightening. "M'coming—"

He came in hot spurts all over his cock, thighs, hand and upper arm. Residual splatters went up his bare abdomen, too.

He breathed hard into the phone. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you when I get home."

He heard you laugh. "What a way to ruin the mood, captain."

•º•

When Price got home, he didn't even bother unpacking. He dumped all of his shit in the hallway, kicking off his boots while pulling up your contact on his phone. He sent you a text, telling you to come over, and your reply was instantaneous.

Come over.———— ————you're home??? Sure am. Don't keep me waiting.———— ————i'm on my way

Excitement built inside him as he smiled down at your message. Never had he ever felt this way about a person before.

He moved around the darkness of his home, turning on the lights and drawing the curtains. He sighed to himself, finally making the effort of taking his bags upstairs and putting them in one of the spare rooms. He'd sort them out tomorrow.

With excitement to see you still heavy in his body, he had a quick shower and scrubbed away the remnants of his deployment. Afterwards, he got dressed, pulling grey sweatpants [lol hehe] over his boxers just as he heard the engine of a car in his driveway. His heart fluttered and, not bothering to put on a shirt, he hurried downstairs.

When he threw open the door, you had a fist raised to knock. You squeaked in surprise when he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut and locking it, before pinning you against it. He slotted his mouth to yours, and you gasped into the kiss, before wrapping your arms around his bare shoulders.

Price pulled out of the kiss after a long moment, breathing deeply as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Hello to you too," you joked, smiling. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Price replied. "So much."

You leaned in and kissed him this time, taking the lead. He groaned happily, putting both hands on your waist and pulling your lower half into his. You hummed into the kiss, tongues smoothing together, as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and settled it at your already aching core.

"Remember what I said to you on the phone last week?" Price asked, as you peppered his face in kisses. He fought off a smile.

"That you'd fuck the shit out of me when you get home?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, I remember," you smiled, nipping his earlobe. "You gonna do it, or no?"

"Cheeky..." He muttered, kissing you one last time before spinning you away from the door. He pushed you away from him with a smack to the arse.

He nodded to the stairs. "You know where I want you."

His words went straight to your core.

With a building ache between your legs, you shakily kicked off your shoes. Then, you bounded up the stairs, wiggling your arse as you went. You giggled when Price groaned, following just a few steps behind.

You practically skipped into his bedroom. You turned around just as he walked in, pulling you closer to him straight away. Hands on your hips, he kissed you hard, his tongue pushing against yours, exploring your mouth. The kiss was full of longing and desperation— all of Price's pent up emotion from four months apart.

Price guided you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. He lay you down on your back, shifting you so you had your head on his pillows. He followed, crawling over top of you, continuing the kiss. You tugged at his hair with one hand, the other moving to the waistband of his sweatpants. You skimmed a fingernail over the elastic.

Price broke the kiss. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of you.

"Impatient, are we?" He queried as your fingers pulled the waistband of his sweatpants down, exposing his boxers and the imprint of his hard cock.

You cupped his bulge and he grunted.

"It's been four months, Price. Of course I'm fucking impatient." You quipped, squeezing lightly.

He cursed, eyes shutting, hips canting into your touch. After a second, he opened his eyes and battered your hand away from him. He slunk downwards until he rested between your legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows, cocking your head to the side as he took off your trousers and your underwear.

The scene was oddly tender. He placed kisses along the bare skin of your legs as he pulled your trousers and underwear away. He tossed them across the room, resuming the trail of kisses along your thighs and knees. He kissed right past your most sensitive part, and you blew out a breath, as his lips pecked over your hips, navel and tummy while he pushed your shirt up.

You helped him pull your shirt over your head.

"No bra?" Price remarked, hands automatically cupping your tits. "Naughty girl."

He tweaked your nipples, making you whine.

"Price, please..." You begged, voice trailing off as he pinched at your sensitive nipples.

"Hmm? What do you want?"

You felt your face heating up. "Want your mouth on me."

"Yeah? My pretty girl wants my mouth on her?" Price drawled slowly, edging back down your body until he was settled comfortably between your legs. He gripped the plush flesh of your thighs in two large hands, squeezing and groping.

You whined, feeling his breath fan across your dripping core. "Please, sir."

He hummed, content. "You always ask so nicely. Such a good girl for me, sweetheart."

You and Price both moaned when he sealed his mouth over your clit first. He circled the bud with his tongue, your hips bucking, hands fisting the sheets at your sides. The vibrations of his moans made your mouth drop open.

His facial hair tickled your inner thighs as he sucked on your clit. He skimmed his teeth along the top of the sensitive bud, and you cried out, shooting one hand down to grab his hair. He grunted when you tugged. He then dragged his tongue down your folds slowly— so slowly you thought you might have a fucking heart attack at the sensations— before circling your soaking hole.

"Such a needy fucking cunt," Price mused directly into your core. "Always so wet for me."

Price licked into you, making you bite back a scream. Four months without his mouth on you had driven you to the brink of insanity. You gripped his hair, urging him closer as the solid muscle of his tongue moved in and out of your core. The sounds were slurping wet, echoing loudly in your ears. They played amongst a chorus of Price's grunts and groans, and your whines and whimpers, producing an orchestra of sounds.

His beard scratched the sensitive skin. Not that you minded. It only added to the tight coil in your lower tummy that was twisting tighter and tighter, your body shining with sweat.

"Price, I'm so close." You sobbed as he continued to lick into you, his eyes watching your facial expressions change.

Price dragged his tongue in a zig-zag motion up your slit, sucking your clit into his mouth as he watched you squirm. "Ask nicely, sweetheart."

You keened, your climax building so aggressively that your legs trembled in his hold and you felt a thin layer of sweat building on your lower back, still pressed against the soft blankets.

"Please, sir, can I..."

His teeth skated across your clit again, and you moaned loudly.

"Fuck—! Please, sir, p-please, can I cum? Please, please—"

He seemed satisfied with that. He dipped his tongue back into your cunt and stuffed it inside, humming confirmation that you could let go. The hum seemed to punch you straight in the fucking uterus, and you came with a mewling moan. Price lapped it up, pressing your thighs tighter around his head.

He sucked you through your high. While you trembled, he massaged your thighs, tongue moving in and out of you lazily. Just when you were on the verge of overstimulation, Price pulled back. His facial hair glistened with your arousal, sparkling in the semi-darkness.

He tutted at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You hadn't realised tears were streaming down your face.

"Mmmfeltsogood—" You whimpered out in one jumbled word, a couple of tears running over your lips. "Missedyousomuch—"

"My poor girl," Price crawled over you. "My poor, needy girl."

He licked the tears off your lips, before kissing a few off your cheeks. He kissed you deeply once you caught your breath, and you tasted your arousal and the salt from your tears. The arousal on his face smeared onto yours, leaving sticky residue across your chin and cheeks.

"You alright now?" He asked gently, voice soft.

You nodded.

"Good. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?"

Fuck, well okay then.

You nodded again. He chuckled behind a close-lipped smile while he shoved his trousers and boxers down his legs, kicking them onto the floor. You whimpered at the sight of his cock— hard, curving towards his abdomen with a reddened tip leaking ivory beads of pre-cum. A prominent vein ran down the left side, from tip to base, dipping into his pubic hair. His dark happy trail crawled up towards his navel, skimming the base of his abs. You were fucking salivating.

He situated himself between your legs, which you wrapped around his hips as he sat back on his heels. He gripped his cock, hissing as he stared at you. So pretty. All for him.

"Condom?" You joked with a coy smile, watching the copious stream of pre dribbling down his length.

He huffed an amused laugh, leaning over you. Drips of pre landed beside your navel. "As if you don't enjoy me filling this tight cunt."

He wasn't wrong.

He kissed you as he notched his cock at your fluttering entrance, smearing your slick around while his tongue probed against yours.

"I missed you so much," he whispered against your mouth as his head pushed into you. "I missed you so fucking much, sweetheart."

The stretch was still difficult to get used too.

You exhaled a breath, his cock sliding in. "I missed you, too."

Eventually, his cock hit the base of your cervix and you whimpered. He shushed you with another kiss before he moved his face away, eyes darting across your features. He ground his hips into your pelvis, and you whimpered again.

"My girl's so sensitive." He uttered, pulling his cock all the way out. Then he thrust back in, and his brutal pace began— your moans of pleasure his starting gun.

His cock rammed against the plug of your womb repeatedly as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. He had one hand on your hip, the other beside your head as he fucked you into his bed. Your hands ran up and down his back, feeling the smooth planes of muscle. Your hands moved to his chest, squeezing his pecs. You smiled, fingers scraping through the coarse hair. Your hands continued lower, running over his sternum and abs, rubbing over the top of his happy trail.

He grunted, using one hand to snatch both of your wrists. Before you knew it, your hands were pinned above you. Price used one hand to keep your arms in place before his thrusts grew heavier— fucking his fat cock into your soaking cunt. He was fucking the shit out of you, just like he promised.

"That's my girl, just take it," Price grunted. "Take my cock. That's a good girl, sweetheart. That's a good girl. Let this needy cunt take my cock."

You whimpered, chest heaving, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest. The bed creaked beneath you, headboard tapping the wall. His cock continued to bruise your cervix in a way that had your entire body shivering in pleasure.

"Harder." You moaned.

"Harder?" Price chuckled, but obliged— the weight of his thrusts increasing, slamming into the spot within you that had your back arching. "You want it like this? Want it rough? Fucking hell, sweetheart, such a naughty girl."

You bit your lip, hiding your whimpers.

"Yeah, such a naughty girl," Price muttered, eyes zeroed in on where his cock entered you. "Naughty, naughty girl. Letting your dad's best friend fuck you like this. Letting your dad's mate fuck this tight cunt."

That made you moan really loud. His eyes found your face, a vulpine smile developing over his mouth.

"Yeah, you like that? 'Course you do. Needy fucking slut, aren't you, sweetheart? Just love this cock, don't you?"

His words made your core clench. You mewled, a pathetic little sound. You were one more bit of dirty talk away from coming all over his cock—

"Can feel this cunt squeezing me, pretty girl," Price said. "You wanna cum? Go on, then. Cum 'round my cock. Show me how much of a needy slut you are for this cock, darling."

Fucking hell.

You came.

A lot.

You squirted all over his fucking abdomen, and you felt it. Felt the wet gush, felt the warmth. But, above all, you felt the pleasure— tummy tightening, cunt fluttering, legs trembling. Usually, you'd moan his last name. You always had done— Price is what you'd called him since you could remember. Hell, it's what your dad would call him, too.

But this time was different.

"John—!" You cried, and Price smiled as he continued to fuck you.

"Good girl, good fucking girl, there you go," Price moaned through his smile. "Such a perfect girl."

His brutal pace continued, and you were quick to realise that, holy fuck, your third orgasm was looming, pooling in the base of your tummy.

"John..." You whispered.

"John? Thought that made me sound old?" Price mused, pounding into you. "You like that I'm older, don't you, sweetheart? Guys your age can't fuck you like I can."

You mewled again, barely able to keep your eyes open. You were doing your best to watch him. Watch the way he hovered over you, pinning your arms above your head. The way his hips surged with each thrust, slamming himself inside you. You felt the subtle vibrations of his chest against yours as he grunted and groaned.

Your third orgasm reared its head within you, and you felt breathless as the weight of the pleasure pushed moan after moan from your lungs. Price watched you, and the way your mouth dropped open in a continuous harmony of sounds.

His thrusts were becoming sloppier. He was panting, too, as he watched your body grow tight, your cunt constricting his cock in such a way that he grit his teeth to suppress a whimper.

"Come on, beg for me," he whispered, rutting into you desperately. "I know you're close, sweetheart, I know, I know. Just beg for it."

You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as the pleasure mounted, burning hot inside your tummy. You felt dizzy, too.

"Please, sir, please let me cum, please, I'm s-so close... n' feels so g-good."

He groaned, pleased. "That's my girl. Cum for me."

You did.

You came around him for the third time. You arched as best as you could in order to feel his chest against yours— feel his body, his warmth, his presence. Tears slipped from your eyes as you moaned, and you finally allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you did so.

Your brain was fuzzy and warm and you felt so good. He made you feel so good. The solid weight as he lay over you, the heat of his bare skin, the slight scratch of his light, coarse hair. He stuffed you full, his cock reaching a place far within you that ached each time he spoke. Maybe it was your heart he was reaching, maybe not with his cock— although it surely felt close— but with his hands. His voice, too, and his words, his personality, his mind. Captain John Price had a firm grasp on your heart, and that sent more hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

"I love you." You sobbed, and he released your hands at just the right moment. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

He groaned, deep and melodic, his arms either side of your face. He leaned down and captured your mouth in a soft kiss. It was slow and passionate, full to the brim with emotion.

Price pulled away slightly, speaking against your lips. "Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, John."

"Fucking hell," he kissed you again, rutting into your tight heat without any discerning rhythm. He was chasing his high. "I love you too."

He kissed the tears off his cheeks, before his head dropped into the crook of your neck. He nipped at the flesh, sucking a bruise.

"I love you, I love you," he repeated. "And m'gonna fill this pretty cunt with my kids. Breed you nice and full, sweetheart— ah, fuck— mhm, get you nice and full... all fat with my kids. Ah, ah— I love you."

He came inside you with a quiet moan, your name following like a mantra. You felt him, hot and thick, flood past your cervix. You whined, rubbing his shoulders.

Price dragged his cock out of you, bringing a wave of fluids with it. Embarrassment zapped up your spine as your arousal and his cum seeped out of your hole. Price ignored your whimpers, gently gathering his cum that had leaked out. He pushed two digits into your cunt, stuffing his cum back inside you.

"Don't waste it..." He whispered, more to himself than to you.

You whimpered under your breath at the feeling of his fingers inside you. He wiggled them around a bit, ensuring his seed stayed right up inside you.

"My perfect girl. I love you." He whispered again.

This time, it wasn't to himself. It was directly to you.

•º•

An hour or so passed and, after a couple more rounds, Price cleaned you up. Ever the gentlemen, he turned on the shower and helped you into it. Behind you, he soaped your body, running his hands along every dip and curve. He exited the shower first, grabbing a warm towel and wrapping you in it.

Little words were exchanged between the two of you as he dried you, then dried himself. You basked in each others presence. He then dressed you in his boxers and his shirt, kissing up your legs as he pulled the boxers up, and littering your face in pecks as he pulled the shirt over your head. He put on his boxers too, before guiding you back into his bedroom and yanking back the covers.

Price hopped in first. He held the blankets open for you to clamber in, nestling yourself against his chest. He settled the blankets back over you, hugging you tight to his body. He breathed deeply, nose to your hair.

You listened to his breathing for a moment.

"Price?"

"Mm?"

"I meant it, you know."

"Meant what, sweetheart?"

"That I love you."

He hugged you tighter. "I love you too."

You sighed into his chest. "This... I'm going to be in a lot of trouble with my dad."

"Yeah. Same."

You laughed at his nonchalance, leaning back to look at him.

"I'm serious," you muttered, fending off a smile, tapping his chest with your fingers. "I'm in love with his best friend."

He grumbled something.

You chuckled. "What?"

"If he has a problem, he can take it up with me."

"That is the problem, Price. He will take it up with you."

"True," Price said, and you laughed. He hummed, thinking. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, sweetheart, okay?"

"Okay..." You breathed, snuggling yourself back against him.

Comfortable silence followed. Then—

"Price?"

"Mm?"

"Do you really want me to have your kids?"

He choked on his saliva after inhaling to quickly. Shocked, probably. He coughed lightly, and you waited for him to soothe himself.

"Yeah, well, uh— okay, look, I mean—"

You pat his chest, echoing his words. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, John."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

let me know what you thought x

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #fem reader #captain price #captain price smut #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana

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mydearesthrry · 7 days

Note

Would you ever write about Harry’s love language being physical touch ? I feel like you would write him so cuteee like him all needy and clingy and wanting to feel her all the time and even biting her because he just gets so consumed by his love for her 🥰

a/n: this was fun. thank u for the request! <3 new universe if u lot like this one?

warnings; nothing, fluff, brieffff suggestive content

“hi starlight,” harry murmured as he threw his keys onto his desk, smiling tiredly at his girlfriend sitting on his bed. “what’re y’doing?”

“studying,” she sighed, “my english midterm is next friday.”

“mm, i see. need any help studying?”

“really?”

harry chuckled, toeing off his shoes and pushing down his jeans down his legs, walking over to his bed. bending down to Y/N’s face level, he placed small kisses on the expanse of her cheeks, up to her cheekbones and down her ear towards her neck, placing his chin on her shoulder. her free hand that wasn’t holding a pen came up to wind into his hair, scratching softly at his scalp.

“you okay?” she mumbled, trying not to break the peaceful atmosphere.

harry hummed, inhaling deeply which led the scent of her body wash through his nose, covering his body in coconut scented chills. “jus’ missed you, s’all. practice was really bad today.”

“wanna talk about it?” she asked, placing butterfly kisses on the side of his head, his face still burrowed in the crook of her neck.

“i’d rather not, if that’s okay. jus’ wanna unwind and have some peace with you.” he admitted, head moving up from its place of solace in her shoulder, pressing another kiss to her lips before patting a hand on her back, silently telling her to move up in her space. the second she did, he slid between the small space that was left between her sitting figure and the headboard, situating himself with his legs splayed around her body.

“lean back, pretty girl,” placing his hands on her shoulders, he softly pulled her back, her head resting just below his head. “okay, what’re we studying?”

“um, just some quick facts about the odyssey, that’s what we have to analyze for the english major course.” she explained, waving her hand dismissively.

harry nodded before placing his chin on the top of her head, his arms wounding around her waist and his hands sneaking under her shirt, scratching softly at the skin of her stomach.

“god h, can you get any closer?” she laughed, not moving from her spot against his front.

“no. i actually need t’be in your skin,” he said sarcastically, although the genuine undertone didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. “i can’t promise i’ll be much help, but i’ll be here for cuddles and to cheer you on?”

“that’s perfect baby, thank you.” she giggled back, burrowing herself deeper into harry’s hold and getting comfortable against the soft material of his hoodie.

“love you, sweetheart.”

“love you, h.”

——

harry awoke to harsh beams of light assaulting him through his windows, a groan ripping from his throat. reaching out an arm behind him, he was met with cold sheets, making him turn his head in confusion. he was expecting the warmth of his girlfriend, but she was nowhere to be found.

until he heard the shrill sound of her laugh.

a grin covered his face as he ripped off the duvet from on top of him, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed to leave the room.

trudging down the stairs, he pulled his sweatpants up and tied them, just barely covering his fern tattoos. “starlight?”

“good morning sunsh- niall, stop! get away from here!” she scolded, slapping his hand away from the bacon she had bubbling on the stove.

“starlight!” niall whined, all but stomping out of the kitchen. “your girlfriend’s bullying me.”

“definitely not bullying you,” she defended, looking at the back of his head accusingly with a spatula in her hand. “hi baby, how’d you sleep?”

“would’ve been better if y’were in m’bed when i woke up,” harry grumbled, making his way into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her waist. “hi.”

“hello again,” she grinned, pressing her lips to his chastely. “missed you.”

“was jus’ sleeping,” he murmured against her. “but i missed y’too.”

“what are we doing today?” he asked, moving his head up but leaving his arms wrapped around her.

“uh, i’m not sure,” setting the spatula down, she rested her hands on harry’s arms, running her nails up and down the expanse of his biceps. “i really, really have to study today. i keep putting it off to hang out with you so i haven’t done any since wednesday. its sunday and my test is on friday!”

“okay baby, we can study if y’want. go to the library maybe?” he offered. they had a rule that the library was the one place that they had to study in, which meant no distracting kisses or cuddles. it was the one place harry promised he wouldn’t go on his phone in, and for his girlfriend, that said a lot.

“really?! you hate the library!” she gasped, eyes twinkling in excitement. it was true, he really did.

“really, starlight. if y’need the study time, you’ll get the study time. as long as i can be there with you.” he promised.

“ah! i love you, i love you,” placing small kisses all over his face, harry giggled and turned bright red. “i love you so much!”

“love you too, sweet girl,” he smiled and grabbed her face in his hands. “love y’so much.”

a gleam set itself in y/n’s eyes, twinkling with adoration. “you’re so pretty.”

“oh shut up,” he rolled his eyes, ducking his face into her neck and biting teasingly at the soft skin.

“harry!” she squealed, giggling as she tried to push him away, feeling his teeth pinch at her skin over and over again. “am i a dog toy?”

“mhmm,” harry hummed, placing kisses over the fading bite marks that were left behind. “m’favorite toy.”

“hey! no shagging in the kitchen!”

“fuck off, niall!”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry

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of-many-aus · 2 months

Text

Coffee

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You were stumbling around the apartment like a blind bat, bumping into every surface imaginable. From the wall, to the doorframe, to the corner of the table (that one was painful).

Never in your entire life could you confidently say that you had been this late for anything before.

Normally, you’d call yourself a pretty punctual person, the latest you ever arrived at a function was ten minutes past the starting time.

Right now, though, an hour and a half into your econ lecture, you were yet to be out the door.

Your shirt was thrown askew against your body and your backpack was swinging on a single strap against your shoulder, papers haphazardly shoved in during your struggle this morning.

Somehow, you had slept through not just one, not just two, but four of your alarm clocks this morning before finally being awoken by a pounding on your bedroom door, the muffled voice of your sleep-deprived roommate filling your ears enough to jolt you awake.

Jake was by no means a morning person, never up before eleven, save for early baseball practices. So seeing him standing in your shared kitchen right now at 9:30 was a rarity.

“Gotta go, gotta go.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, as you hobbled around on one foot while trying to shove your shoe onto the other.

Seresin was standing there, coffee mug in hand, amusement swirling in his green eyes.

“Need a hand there, Angel?” He asked lightly, voice teasing.

“Late, late, late.” You muttered like a broken record, looking more like a crazed woman than anything as your wide eyes feverishly scanned the kitchen counter for any signs of whatever you could use to scrounge up some quick coffee to hopefully wake your senses up.

“Here.”

The last thing you had expected in that moment was to be blinking down at Jake's outstretched arm, travel coffee mug in hand.

“I made it just the way you like.” He promised with a lopsided smile.

You faltered, stilling for the first time since throwing yourself out of bed fifteen minutes prior, “You made-“

“Two sugars and a splash of cream.” He took your hand in his and guided it to close around the mug, not letting go until he was sure you were holding onto it, “Now, come on, you've gotta go.” He repeated your earlier words, gently trying to steer you out of the room.

“U-um,” You mouth opened and closed like an idiot for a moment before you swallowed thickly, “Thanks.”

Jake smiled dazzlingly down at you, “Don’t mention it, Angel.” He glanced down at his watch, “The bus will be outside in three minutes, I suggest you hurry if you have to trek down all those stairs.”

Your heart leapt to your throat, he had not only had gotten up early, made your coffee just the way you liked- a fact you hadn’t even realized he was aware of- but he also looked up the bus schedule to make sure you didn’t miss it.

“Have fun in class, Angel.” Jake threw one last wink your way when you exited the apartment.

“J-Jake.” You halted his movements as he turned back to you with curious eyes, “Thank you, seriously.”

The man smiled softly, “No need to thank me.”

With that, he quickly shooed you down the stairs, your racing thoughts making it so you nearly missed the bus. But you didn’t. Thanks to Jake.

Series Taglist: @djs8891 @pono-pura-vida @shanimallina87 @melllinaa @callsignbirdy @fogle97 @randomfandomgirl97 @averyhotchner @blueoorchid @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misconceptionmistress @ravenclawaddict5285 @j-brielmalfoy @waywardhunter95 @classyunknownlover @whoreforfictionalmen18 @clancycucumber230 @celestialeviereads @h-ngm-ns @desert-fern @lostinheavensworld @whatislovevavy @emma8895eb

#take me out to the ball game series #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin au #top gun au #top gun x reader #top gun x y/n #top gun x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin

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tainted-red · 1 year

Text

Teachers pet.

TWS: Age difference, Smut, Language, Dub con, almost caught, innocent reader, maybe non-con.

Teacher x student.

Summary: Y/n is a student of Mr. Cameron, Mr. Cameron thinks y/n is a very naive girl.

“He's so cute” Your friend Fern gossips.

“More like hot, I'd let him hit” Your other friend Lana giggles.

“Stop guys he's a permanent teacher. And he's like 30, It's gross and weird” You fake gag.

“Does it matter, it's not like we're actually gonna sleep with him” Lana informs you.

“Are you girls don't talking?” Mr. Cameron asks pausing his work on the board.

“Yes sir. I'm sorry. It won't happen again” You apologize.

“Good. Now if we could get back to the lesson” Mr. Cameron basically shouts.

Your friends all giggle and tease you for being so obedient.

“Alright, can I get a student to come up here and write the answer? Any volunteers?” Mr. Cameron asks the classroom while looking around.

“No one. Alright, let's get one of the chit-chatters. How about you H/C” Mr. Cameron said while looking you in the eyes

“Me?” You gasp hurrying on your feet. “Yes, you. Come on, don't be shy” Mr Cameron holds out the chalk.

You grab it and think for a second about the answer “it's Four thousand and six” You answered.

“Wow, good girl. Didn't even need a calculator” Mr. Cameron chuckles.

“Yeah it wasn't that hard” You smile.

He smiles back, putting his head down and then up “You're a smart girl. Can you stay after class?” Mr. Cameron sighed.

“Yes, I can. Am I in trouble?” you ask interested.

“Nope just wanna talk some things over” He put out.

You smile and then go back to your seat, you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Oh, my God. He totally likes you. He called you a good girl” Lana squeaks.

“He was just being friendly” you gleam.

“He was giving fuck me eyes” Lana protests “Shut up Lana, he's just a nice guy” You state.

“Tell me that after he fucks you” Lana shrieks.

“Girls please be quiet, your disrupting my class” Mr. Cameron howls.

“Sorry Mr Cameron-” You apologize.

Getting cut off by the bell, students run out of the class.

You get up and stand at the teacher's desk “What do you need?” You ask him, he goes over to the door to lock it.

“I just wanted to talk. You seem smart and mature” Mr. Cameron smirks.

“Thank you. You seem like a really good teacher” you compliment him.

“So I was thinking maybe you could be my assistant. Don't worry you get paid” Mr. Cameron offers.

“I'd love to” You giggle.

He places his hand on your shoulder “your also really pretty” He hesitated while saying it.

“Your very um handsome” you stumble on your words.

His hand slides down your arm “Your just a charmer aren't you” Mr. Cameron jokes.

You giggle a bit “So can I go now?” you ask.

“I'd prefer you to stay, I have an hour until my next class” Mr. Cameron makes known to me.

“Okay so what will we do Mr. Cameron” You purred.

“Don't call me Mr. Cameron, it reminds me of my father. Please call me Rafe” He warbles.

“Rafe. You don't look like a Rafe maybe a Charles” You laugh.

He laughs a bit then cups your face, smashing his lips onto yours.

You push him back “what are you doing? You're my teacher” You whisper shout.

“I know this isn't professional but fuck you're too pretty” He grumbles.

Places his hands on both sides of the desk. Trapping you.

“No one has to know” He whisper.

“This isn't good. You could get fired and I could get expelled” You defend your reasoning.

“I'll take that risk” He lets out a deep chuckle.

Kissing you again but more passionately. You decide you confine and kiss him back.

His hands go on your hips.

He slips his tongue in your mouth, exploring every part of ther's.

He then tries to unbutton your blouse. Once he got it off he threw it across the room.

You then start to unbutton his shirt. Accidentally breaking a button.

You pull away and apologize “It's fine just don't stop” Rafe groans.

Dry humping you, you make your way to his belt. Taking it off, sliding his pants down.

He lets go of the kiss and kisses your neck roughly. Bound to leave a hockey.

You slowly pump him through his boxers.

“Please fuck me, Rafe” You moan.

He slides his boxers down.

You gasp at the size of his dick. He chuckles a bit.

He puts your underwear on the side. Teasing you by tapping his cock on your vagina.

You moan as he puts the tip in.

“You're so pretty” He groans before pushing it all in.

He lets you adjust to it for a second, then he snaps his hips into you, at a steady pace.

“Fuck Rafe slow down” You scream.

He rubs your clit in a circular motion “Stop Rafe” You whine.

It was all too much, you felt like you were gonna pass out.

You felt your orgasm build up.

“Fuck” You moan.

You slowly ease into your orgasm. Then you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

He pulled out and his liquids dripped out of you.

“Fuck Rafe I'm not on the pill” You jeered.

“I'll give you money for the after pill. Baby don't worry about it” He chuckles.

Kissing your cheek.

“I hope to see you around” Rafe jokes.

You get up and grab a tissue and wipe yourself, grabbing your shirt and putting it on.

“Yeah how about tomorrow at 2 pm?” You mock.

You open the door and as you're about to leave he slips you a hundred-dollar bill.

“Go get to it now before your next class” He demands.

You smile at him and then leave.

#obx smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe x you #teacher #teacher smut #breeding pet

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creativenicocorner · 3 months

Text

Reigen has a moment alone with an apple…it’s less weird than it sounds…kind of. Other things happen too. Introspective things - no, not like that, get your head out of the gutter. More like the mortifying ordeal of having a crush.

Snippet:

Reigen paused in turning the apple over, and observed it. There was a small brown stain on it. It was in the perfect shape of a circle. Not blotchy or some strange Rorschach pattern. A perfect circle. “Heh, I wonder if there’s a worm inside. Would a little worm be waiting for me? Cartoonishly? Nah, it’s only in cartoons. That’s why it’s called, um, cartoonish,” he said to the potted elephant fern by the window. Then, with a shrug, tested his luck by biting the bruised section. Another small surprise: no worm. His bite mark was uncharacteristically small. Usually he’d bite into just about anything with the vigor of a starved beast. This, however, was perhaps the smallest, most delicate looking bite he had done in his life. Reigen looked closer at it, and slowly realized, with a rising blush, the bite was…lip sized. That is to say, the indent for a pair of lips.

Rated Teen and Up

Reblogs, Kudos, and Comments are deeply appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#aka what eating a Pink Lady does to a motherfucker #Kramer Voice: Do you ever yearn?#mp100 #Serirei #mob psycho 100 #Reigen Arataka #Arataka Reigen #Serizawa Katsuya #Katsuya Serizawa #Kurata Tome #Tome Kurata #Tome #Nico Writes

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oceans-goddess · 1 year

Text

Tyler Galpin x Reader Series Pt. 1-- The Weathervane

A/N: I hope to have part 2 up soon! We will see how my homework treats me, haha

Summary: y/n is a Nevermore student who has the power to grow plants, but hasn’t fully harnessed them yet, making for quite the interesting first encounter with Tyler Galpin at the Weathervane.

______________________________________________________________

You usually kept to yourself at Nevermore, spending most of your time in your room or in the greenhouse with your beloved plants. You’d been sent to Nevermore because, despite all of your parents’ attempts to control your abilities, they’d spun wildly out of control, leaving a massive tree growing through your house. But it had been months since you started at Nevermore, and your teachers were slightly concerned about your lack of socialization.

“Why not spend some time in Jericho? You could get some fresh air!” They’d suggested, and though you didn’t really have a reason to be in town where you knew everyone would stare at you and call you a freak in huddled whispers, you liked walks, so you decided to try it out.

It took a while to get your bearings, having only driven through the town a few times, but you soon found a cute coffee shop called the Weathervane. In sharp contrast from the chilly winter air of Vermont, the cozy coffee shop was warm and welcoming. The croissants and other pastries on the counter smelled incredible. There was nobody in line, so you stepped up to the counter.

Behind one of the coffee machines was a boy your age in a Weathervane uniform and an apron. He was quite cute, you noticed, with his brown hair curled above his ears and over his forehead, and his pink lips pressed together in concentration. You followed his gaze to see that he was working on a detailed bit of latte art-- a swan. It was intriguing to watch him, to watch his piece of work come together. But suddenly, it was ruined, one of the swan wings mixing into the coffee below and disappearing. The barista huffed in frustration, setting the cup down and looking up, only to yelp in surprise at your presence.

“I am- I’m so so sorry to have kept you waiting,” he spluttered, and you blushed at his sudden attention, feeling as though you had been caught in the act of staring at the beautiful boy in front of you. You didn’t notice the small daisy begin to blossom between your fingers on the counter when you introduced yourself shyly.

“No, it’s no problem! I was just watching you, um, make that swan. It was beautiful. I, um, I’m y/n”

He smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck before replying: “Nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Tyler. What can I get for you today?” You blushed when you realized that the entire time you’d been standing there, you hadn’t even thought to read the menu. Buttercups sprung up in your hair, and Tyler’s eyes grew wide at the sight of them, but you took his expression as impatience and said, “I’ll just have a hot chocolate and a croissant.”

He rang you up and began making your hot chocolate straight away, and you moved down the counter to wait at the pick-up sign. It wasn’t hard to begin staring again, noticing the way the lights above Tyler’s head glinted in his hair, the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones when he looked down, the way one side of his mouth naturally quirked up into a half-smile, the way he-

“Here you go,” he said, and you were shaken out of your daydreams, ferns unfurling at your feet. You grabbed your order quickly and said thank you with an awkward smile before he asked, “Are you a Nevermore student?”

Seriously? Not even five minutes into talking with Tyler, and he’d already come to the conclusion that you were a freak, just as everyone else had. The ferns were as tall as your knee now, but you were too embarrassed to notice.

“Uh, yeah, I am. It’s that obvious?” you asked, refusing to look at anything other than your cup of cocoa. He chuckled, but answered in plain upon seeing your eyes widen in concern.

“Well, uh, you’ve kinda got...” he pointed to his head, “flowers, y’know, growing out of your hair.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth in horror, but he only chuckled again.

“Don’t worry, it’s cool. Very pretty, actually,” he reassured, but you couldn’t help internally cringing at your inability to control your power.

“Thanks,” you said anyway, and looked down at your shoes in dismay, only to realize ferns as tall as the countertop brushing against your skirt.

“Um, I’m sorry-- thank you-- I have to go now,” you said, spinning on your heels and hurrying away from the mess you’d just caused. You were sure it would only make things worse if you tried to help clean it up.

Little did you know, you’d left Tyler Galpin staring at your receding figure in wonder, and he was surprisingly delighted to find your ferns across the counter soon after your departure.

_______________________________________________________________________

Link to Pt. 2

#wednesday #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #the weathervane #coffee shop #wednesday addams #tyler galpin fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin fanfiction

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 11 months

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Mm, Daddy Daddy

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Being a student is hard. For your Master's degree, you have to contend with classes, labs, and assignments in addition to feeding yourself. You're treading water coming into the end of the Spring Semester when your roommate tells you she is breaking her portion of your lease and moving in with her new fiancé. You're left at wit's end and you're not sure how you'll make ends meet. Until, that is, a friend and colleague suggests a website called icanbeyourbaby.com. You're not sure what you'll find there, but Jake Seresin is not it. He's everything you've ever dreamed of and more. But can you keep him despite the contract the website insists you draw up? Will this ever be more than a short-term business arrangement? You hope so. Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one. This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact. Warnings: Reader gets paid for her companionship. This is a Sugar Daddy/ Sugar Baby agreement, after all. Word Count: 4354 Author Note: Hello, hello all you beautiful people! I'm insatiable and you only have @desert-fern to blame for putting this thought in my head. Fern, this one is for you! I hope you'll find yourself a Jake to entice you into studying and call you 'His Good Girl'! 🥰 😘 Also, the real ones know. The title for this fic comes from Sam Smith & Kim Petras - Unholy.

AO3: Cross-posted here! Wattpad: Cross-posted here! Anthology Masterlist My Masterlist

College sucks. You love learning, and you love being surrounded by so many different, amazingly talented people. What sucks is how expensive it is. Even with a scholarship, a roommate, and not one, but two full time jobs, you're just barely making ends meet. You've just gotten out of a double shift from hell when you walk into your apartment to see that Joanna, your roommate, has her boyfriend over. They're making out on the couch, and while you'd love to ignore them, you need to make yourself dinner and then write a ten page treatise on the effects of pollution on bivalves due tomorrow during your last class for your final grade.

Just as you're pulling your last Cup Noodles out of the microwave, making a mental note to buy more tomorrow, Joanna speaks up.

"Hey, Blue." She sounds nervous for some reason. "I'm glad I caught you before you headed to your room for the night."

"Hey, Jo!" You sound about as tired as you look. "What's up?"

"Well…. Austinproposedtomeandisaidyes." Her last words are too fast for your already stressed brain.

"One more time, Jo? Slowly?" You point to your head. "My brain's kinda fried and I didn't get any of that."

"I said, Austin proposed to me and I said yes." She's proffering her left hand out to you and you can't help your own squeal of glee as you examine the ring and congratulate her.

"Umm, you're the sweetest, you know that, Blue?" Why does she sound so sad when she’s telling you such nice things? "I hate to do this to you, but, um. Well, I'm moving in with Austin this weekend. Our landlady is letting me break my part of the lease, so the place is all yours."

You just congratulate her again, and watch as she and Austin retreat to her bedroom. When the apartment is quiet again, you begin to think. You dimly note how the fork in your hands goes clattering onto the countertop as you try to mentally catalog how many extra shifts you'll need to take to make your next month's rent payment and pay for classes at the same time. But no matter how you do the math, it doesn't add up. You'd need to work more hours than there are in the day and you still wouldn't have enough money.

It's a conundrum that continues to churn away in the back of your mind as you slurp down the cold noodles and finish writing your paper. You'll need another roommate, at the very least. But summer break has already begun, and you're not likely to find one. Los Angeles is expensive. You mull it over for weeks, even after Joanna moves out. It's your lab partner at the Marine Institute, a girl named Samantha, who suggests an unlikely idea which might just be the most likely solution.

"Create a profile on this site: icanbeyourbaby.com. It's a sugar daddy/sugar baby site. It's full of older men looking for companionship. I started it a couple of months ago and I don't have to worry about anything anymore." It's true. Sammie doesn't look stressed or tired anymore. Her clothes are all new. You thought she'd just gotten a great job, which is why you'd asked if her boss was hiring. You'd never have expected Sammie with her neon pink and yellow hair, piercings and tattoos to be a sugar baby.

You turn the thought over and over in your head, trying to puzzle another way out of your situation without going into prostitution or living in the campus library out of a duffle bag for the rest of the year. When nothing else comes to mind, you fill out a profile on icanbeyourbaby. You stay as true to yourself as you can, feeling heat in your face and ears at the extremely in depth questions about sexual experience and kinks. Finally, you add a selfie taken recently at a friend's birthday party and hit submit. The congratulations screen is so cheery that you almost immediately want to slam your laptop lid down and curl up under your blankets.

But you don't, because right as you try to, huge cheesy letters spell out "Congratulations, you got a match!" You're then routed into a chat window. You've been matched with a user called longhornlover, and when you click onto his profile, your jaw nearly drops out of its socket.

His name, when you read through the details, is Jake Seresin. He's a lawyer working for a law firm downtown. He's just turned 34, and you can't quote this enough, he "needs a pretty girl on his arm for galas, dinners and parties, who is intelligent and able to keep up a conversation". Is this guy for real? At least the age gap isn't too bad. He's only 11 years older than you. Money is apparently no object and when you've flipped back to the open chat window, he's already messaged you asking you to meet him for coffee.

You can't be blamed for saying yes, right? It's way too easy to sink into chatting with Jake on the app. He's more attentive than every man you've ever spoken to and he gives you butterflies every time he messages you good morning.

The day of your first date, you wear your best dress and walk out of your building, prepared to walk to the bus stop in order to make it to your date on time. You're definitely not expecting the shining blue Porsche idling on the street or the six-foot tall man leaning elegantly against the door. Jake's even more gorgeous in person.

You stammer all over yourself as you greet him and then allow him to help you into the car, and whisk you away. He takes you to a little coffee shop outside of the city. The hostess leads you to a secluded booth and hands you a menu that is a leather bound book with no prices anywhere on the pages. It's quiet as you order an iced coffee and hand the menu back over.

"So, Blue, can I call you that?" At your nod, he continues, "Why did you sign up? What made you consider being a sugar baby?"

"Oh, I, um. My roommate just moved out, I'm working two jobs and I don't know if I'll be able to make rent, my school fees or be able to feed myself now that she's not going to be able to split rent with me." Your voice is quiet, ashamed. You're asking a stranger for money, practically.

"You're in school, your profile said. What are you studying?" He glosses over your shame so easily. Rich people really do have different cares from ordinary people like you.

"I'm at University of Southern California - Los Angeles getting my Masters in Marine Biology and Biological Oceanography." At his inquiring glance you continue, elaborating on the program a little bit. You finish up just as your waitress drops off your coffee, twirling her manicured nails in her hair as she smiles fetchingly at Jake. It's very satisfying to see how he doesn't respond to her at all.

"Thank you for telling me about yourself." He takes a sip of his coffee. "So what are you hoping to get out of this arrangement?"

This is the question you've been asking yourself non-stop for the past few days.

"I'd like to not have to worry about whether I'll be able to eat if I pay my rent and tuition. Or if I'll be able to sleep at night if I work and still have assignments I need to complete." You sip on your coffee, praying that all of your nervous sweating hasn't exposed the raccoon circles permanently tattooed under your eyes. "W-what do you want out of this?"

"I want you to be healthy and happy. And, when I have a company party or event to attend, I want you on my arm, smiling and being just as gorgeous as you are right now." His voice is so soft that the butterflies swarm up your esophagus.

"I can do that. Um, what about, um, sex things?" Your voice drops down to a whisper as you say the last words, sinking into your chair while furtively glancing around to see if anyone heard you.

"That's all up to you. I'd love to be able to call you my girlfriend and lavish a bunch of affection on you, including making you feel good. If that's something you're not comfortable with, then let me know." Jake's green eyes are glimmering with amusement as you stutter out your agreement.

Your eyes go even wider when he fishes an iPad out of his briefcase and pulls out a contract. He goes over every inch of it with you, making changes based on your comfort level, and then you both sign. That's how you became a sugar baby.

At the beginning it was all new and exciting. Jake deposited a quarter of a million dollars into your bank account the next morning, calling it your quarterly allowance. A part of you still doesn't believe that he's real. In the six months since that day, you've gone to no fewer than five parties, dressed to the nines in designer gowns with diamonds dripping off of your fingers, throat and wrists and been swanned around as Jake Seresin's girlfriend.

You love the kisses and possessive grip he has on your waist at those events. But you're at the point in your relationship, and it is a relationship - Jake had shredded the contract months ago, where you want more. You want the sleepovers at his penthouse downtown. You want him to call you his Good Girl and mean it as you bounce on his cock. So you take matters into your own hands. One Friday afternoon you let yourself into his penthouse, glad that at least you have the keys and don't need permission to do so. You set your bookbag down on the leather ottoman in the living room and pad into his bedroom.

Jake's bedroom is your favorite place in the entire apartment. It's all pale wood and glass. His bed sits against the sole wall, a plush pillowy California King that you love taking naps in. You walk into the gigantic walk-in closet and pull out one of his button-down shirts, a pale cream one that you love seeing on his golden skin. The fabric is rich and silky and most importantly, ever so slightly transparent. You strip off all of your clothes and swathe yourself in the silky shirt. The cool fabric has your nipples turning into firm points and as you look at yourself in the mirror, you know Jake's going to love seeing you in his clothes, too.

Then comes the next part of your plan. You settle down on the sofa with a throw over your lap and begin to study. Even though you have seduction on your mind, it's still finals season. Now, you wait. You're completely immersed in your Marine Law class when you hear the door open and Jake walks through the door. He's got a bag of groceries in one hand and his briefcase in the other.

"Hi, doll!" He sounds exhausted.

"Hi, Jake!" Your voice is soft as you wave at him from your blanket burrito on the couch.

"How was your day, baby?" He sounds exhausted. You answer him from the couch, barely noticing him until you feel a kiss press against the side of your head. It's Jake, now dressed in just a pair of sweats with damp hair.

"When did you shower?" You can't help the confusion in your voice as you rub at your eyes from behind the frames of your glasses.

"Twenty minutes ago, baby." You can feel the amusement in his voice. "What're you so immersed in, huh?"

"Marine law." You keep scanning the slides in front of you, ignoring how his hands are tracing across your shoulders.

"Y'know, baby doll, I am a lawyer. So you can ask me for help if you want?" You can feel your resolve flagging as he sets your laptop down, unwraps you slowly from the throw, and tugs you into his lap. His hands trail teasingly over the bar expanse of your thighs, pausing at the junction of your hips, caressing the soft bare skin there.

"What do we have here, Baby Blue?" His voice is deep and velvety as he rucks the shirt up a little, knuckles firm against your bare stomach.

"W-wanted to wear your shirt, Daddy." You can hear the rumble of his voice as he groans, trailing his fingers over your peaked nipples and back down to the apex of your thighs.

"And the rest of your clothes?" He's got a firm grip on each thigh, tugging them apart until your bare pussy is completely exposed.

"I-I took 'em off. Just wanted to be surrounded by your scent, Daddy." Your voice is a mewl as Jake massages teasingly over your clit, the barely there touches sending even more heat coiling through your veins.

"And you decided to be my good girl and study while you waited for Daddy to come home?" His calloused fingers pluck at your nipples with each word.

"Y-yes." Your chest is heaving, your mind going fuzzy and blank as Jake's - no - Daddy's hands rob you of all thought.

"You've been such a good girl, baby doll. D'you want your reward?" The fondness in Daddy's voice has you writhing as his hands open your tight walls up for him.

"Yes please, Daddy! Please!" He lifts you up with one thick forearm before working the sweats down to his knees. Now, you can feel Daddy's cock as it glides over your weeping hole as you wriggle in his lap.

"Come sit on this cock, Blue, baby." He punctuates the order with kisses that steal the breath from your lungs. You love when Daddy kisses you like this. You tug the constricting button down off, and carefully sink down onto his hard length. Daddy's cock is so big and thick that it nearly splits you apart. Each inch has your mouth open in a silent scream, and when he bottoms out, you're sweaty and exhausted. Your skin feels too tight and electric shocks are zipping across every inch that he touches.

Daddy takes pity on you, letting you quiet on his cock, feeling how your walls clench around his length as you settle back against his chest.

"God, look at you, baby Blue. So pretty, my good girl, impaled on Daddy's cock like that." Daddy's big hands cup your tits, and you shudder before melting further into his arms. After several moments, he leans forward, tugging your laptop back onto your lap. "Gotta make sure my good girl is comfy. That she knows daddy is here for her always. Now, you sit here and study. If you're good, I'll fuck you until you scream later."

You're already so wet and aching for Daddy, that it'll be sweet torture to spend so long impaled on his length. His cock is pressing up against all the parts that make you see stars. But you're Daddy's good girl. So you do what he says. The first few pages, you're completely distracted, wriggling around in Daddy's lap, wanting more stimulation. But eventually you fall into a flow state, Daddy's presence comforting.

You lose time. You must, because it's dark when the laptop closes and Daddy peppers kisses across your exposed shoulders. You're still impaled on his length, each thick inch pressing against your walls in the perfect way. You're slow to respond to the teasing caresses, nuzzling against the palm of Daddy's hand sweetly.

"Aww, baby Blue. You're so good for me, doll." Daddy's voice sounds so fond and it makes a small part of you light up. His praise and gentle words make you feel even better than his cock buried in you. When he lifts you off of his length, you sob at the empty feeling, weeping cunt clenching on nothing where it had once been wrapped around Daddy.

Before you can blink, you're splayed out on your back on Daddy's comfy leather sofa. He's crouched between your legs, gazing raptly at your heat as he pets across your hips and lower belly in slow soothing strokes.

"D-daddy?" Your voice is tiny, as you try to swivel and nudge your hips closer to him.

"Yeah, baby doll?" Daddy punctuates his words with kisses against your inner thighs and your mound. Your mind whites out a bit at the pressure as he flattens his tongue over your fluttering, wet slit. His voice is smug as he continues, "D'you want something from Daddy, baby?"

You don't get the chance to respond, though. Between one breath and the next, you're being treated like a steak dinner placed before a starving man. Daddy feels like he's everywhere. His mouth and fingers devour you whole. Your entire body feels like a live wire, warring sensations dancing like electric currents across your skin as the band in your gut winds tighter and tighter. It feels like you're on a tightrope, dangling over a cliff.

Each heaving breath feels like too much and yet not enough oxygen is entering your lungs. You're begging and babbling, tugging on Daddy's hair in graceless sweeping motions as your mind forgets how to move or do anything than be at Daddy's pleasure. It's when Daddy growls against your cunt that you cum, screaming his name as your muscles lock with the force of your orgasm.

When you come back to yourself, it's on the cool satin sheets of Daddy's big bed. You feel wrung out and exhausted, mind floaty even as your limbs struggle to cooperate. You've just managed to sit up when Daddy wanders in, holding a condensation covered glass in his big hand. You make grabby hands for him, smiling as he drags you against his chest as you sip on the cool juice in the glass.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You nuzzle in closer, sleepily peppering kisses across his chest.

"Feel good, Daddy. Y'always make me feel good." The kiss Daddy presses against your lips consumes you body and soul. It takes several moments before you collect your frayed strands of thought.

"B-but, what about you, daddy? Did you cum?" Your voice is soft as you take his length in your hand.

"No, Blue, baby." His breathing hitches with each pass of your hand as you work his length in your fist. "But you don't have ta'...... Ahh!"

Each stuttering breath makes your smile just a little wider. Daddy's so pretty, his tawny mane of hair spread out against the pillow as a flush spreads across his chest. His big hand is curled around your bare hip as you slowly pump his length.

"Doll, are you just going to tease me all night?" His voice is so fond as he tugs you close.

"No, Daddy." You melt into his chest as he kisses you. Each long slow slide of his tongue plundering your mouth has you pressing yourself closer. You kiss your daddy slowly, losing yourself to the touch.

"D'you want something baby?" There are big hands on your hips, stalling every movement as you try and fail to search for friction.

"Blue!" He's laughing now, peppering kisses across your pouting face as you fight to eke some pleasure out for yourself. But no matter what you do, you don't move.

"What're you searching for, huh, baby?" You growl as a result, stilling your hips as you suck kisses down his throat. You relish in the moans pouring out of Daddy's throat, brattily ignoring the teasing path of his hands across your lower stomach and breasts.

It's the sharp sting of a hand on your ass that has you squeaking and your mouth parting from the hickey you'd been leaving on Daddy's neck.

"Oh, baby. Did that sting?" As Daddy's big hands rub over your aching ass, you arch your back and try to nuzzle closer. But all that does is bring your bare skin closer to his mouth. The first wet press of his tongue to your peaked nipples has you moaning. You're so occupied by the dual sensations of the hands kneading your ass and the wet insistent suction of Daddy's mouth on your tits that you barely notice the pinching insistent pressure as Daddy's dick presses into you.

When Daddy finally bottoms out, you're already a drooling mess. This sugar baby arrangement is the best decision you've ever made. Daddy's a million times better than your first fumbling sexual experience in your prom date's pickup. His thick hard length in you has your pussy fluttering and already has you on the edge of an orgasm. When you're tipped onto your back in the sheets and Daddy starts to move, you're completely at his mercy.

Each thrust has you taking Daddy from root to tip. The entire room is filled with the lewd slapping of sweat-slippery skin against skin. Your breaths are punched out gasps as Daddy draws your legs up to his shoulders, holding them securely against his chest with one thick forearm as the other presses insistently against your engorged clit. Each brush of his calloused fingers coats them in your wetness and tips you even further towards your orgasm. You're babbling, hardly able to keep eye contact with the piercing, intent gaze Daddy's leveling on your sweat slicked skin. You cum with a scream, back arching off the bed.

"Aww, Blue, baby. Look at you! Fucked dumb on Daddy's thick hard cock." Daddy sets your legs back down as he pulls out of you and turns you so your back is pressed against his chest.

"You're going to be good, right Baby?" You're grinding your ass back against Daddy's ass unconsciously even as Daddy wraps a hand around your throat. You love having Daddy all over you like this. Even though you just came, you can't help wanting more. He uses the extra leverage to kiss your slack mouth until a thread of saliva stretches between your mouths.

"Daddy's gonna fuck your wet little pussy just like this with a hand around this little throat until you gush for me." His voice slows to a hiss as he teasingly runs his finger through your sensitive folds. "And you, baby. You're going to tell your daddy exactly how good he feels in that pretty little pussy."

You're nodding frantically, but that's not enough for Daddy. He smacks your pussy, tapping it until you're writhing against the steel hold he's got around your waist.

"Y-yes, Daddy! Yes! I can do that!" Your voice is a high pitched keen as you sob your relief at having Daddy buried inside you again.

He starts off slow, keeping the pace teasing as he pulls out of you until just the tip is sheathed and burying himself in you over and over again. Your hands are grasping onto his arms with all your strength, as you let Daddy chase his pleasure in you. His hand is firm against your throat, the pressure making you lightheaded and the sensations setting your blood aflame. With each slap of his hips against your ass you're telling him how good he feels. He's so big and thick you can't help it.

"Blue, baby." Daddy's voice is a purring growl which has your pussy dripping even wetter as your third orgasm builds. This one is going to be even harder than the last one. His hands pinch and tug at the heavy swell of your tits as they bounce with each thrust. "Cum for me, pretty baby. C'mon. You can do it. Cum for daddy."

"Yes, Daddy. Right there! M'so close. Wanna cum on your cock. Please. Please. Please. Please." You're still babbling for permission when Daddy's hands slide down to your clit and massage on the bud in time with his thrusts. When you come, it feels like you've been struck by lightning. You see stars behind your eyes as your orgasm builds and crests, seeming to never end. You vacantly feel Daddy empty himself in your sopping cunt, but that's it.

When you wake up, it's in the big bathtub in the master ensuite. There are hands carefully massaging shampoo into your hair and the water is steaming in the quiet night air. There's a deep relaxation weighing your muscles and bones as you blink yourself awake.

"Hey, Blue. How d'you feel?" It's Dadd- no, Jake, who's making you feel good.

"I feel so good, Jake." You kiss his wrist before turning so you can kiss him. He hefts you into his arms, not caring in the slightest that you're dripping soap and water all over his floor.

"You're back up, huh, baby?" At your nod, he kisses you before continuing. "I know you told me you've never been so far down before. And it definitely wasn't discussed. Was that okay, for you?" He sounds so worried as he sits on the tile with you dripping all over him.

"I'm perfect, Jakey. Perfect. It was everything I needed and more. If you liked it, I'd love to be your Baby Blue again?" You hope he'll agree. You love being Daddy's baby and brat.

"Absolutely, you can. But for the rest of tonight, how about we curl up on the sofa? I made some pasta and garlic bread." He grins at your nod before joining you in the tub again. This? You wouldn't give this up for anything in the world.

"Hey, Blue?" He sounds sated and sleepy.

"Yeah, Jake?" You cuddle closer to him and kiss his skin.

"Move in with me?" He sounds nervous. Like you’d reject him? After everything you’ve built a relationship with him? Not possible. You can’t believe what he’s asking you. You can’t even pretend to think about it. Your mouth runs away before your brain even processes the words screaming, "YES!" while you kiss him until he’s breathless again. This man? You’re going to keep him forever.

Taglist:

@desert-fern 🥰 @mayhemmanaged 🥰 @cassiemitchell 🥰 @thedroneranger 🥰 @cherrycola27 🥰 @roosterforme 🥰 @roostette 🥰 @dakotakazansky 🥰 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🥰 @sarahsmi13s 🥰 @lovinglyeternal 🥰 @lovingbradshawafterdark 🥰 @mamaskillerqueen 🥰 @chaoticassidy 🥰 @genius2050 🥰

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun smut #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman smut #reader insert #smut #Spotify

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alien-magnolia · 4 months

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Mine and His <3

Fic Description: As a background type scientist, you aren’t very special in the world of Pandora. That changes, when you are noticed by Jake Sully, and fortunately, his rival, Colonel Quaritch. 18+ MDNI!!!

Tw: Implied non-con, power dynamics, dom-coded! Jake sully + Miles Quaritch, sub-coded hyperfem!reader, fingering, Jake/Quaritch talking down to reader/ bimbofication, ownership, major size kink bc human reader.

A/n: this turned out way longer than I thought, and I originally meant to post it on Christmas.its a bit hard for me to consistently post now. Anyways, merry belated Christmas/ holidays, and hope yall enjoy my first time bringing the very (hot) Miles Quaritch to life!! Don’t we love the balance between a young Jake Sully and an older Miles Quaritch <3 I am planning to make a part two with more intense smut! Stay tuned! (this was lacking a bit 😭) alsooo pls help a gorl out and reblog if you like this!!

The moon rose above you as you made your way to the forest, your mask in tow, and your boots. You were meeting Jake at the edge of the forest. He would not want you to venture in alone. Your tiny human form could not take it, as he would say. The Na’vi man was extremely possessive over you. The leaves rustled amongst the wind, bioluminescent crickets danced in the air.

You stand still as the ferns brush against your leg, wondering where your Jake was. You came to Pandora as a sort of background character — always behind the scenes, never noticed, usually brushed to the side. You were apart of the anthropological and religion team, researching and observing Na’vi culture, religion, and social relations and norms.

Every morning, you rose from your cold, metallic, cot, put on your oxygen mask, and worked at the lab from 8-5. Sometimes you would be invited into the community to learn, yet you never lingered around too long. The other scientists were more fluent in Na’vi than you were, and so, they would make a better impression.

It was only until one night, where the half-moon rose and shone over the sky, swirled as if it was cotton candy, was the night where you became noticed. You, made an impression.

~ Three months ago ~

You stayed to observe a Na’vi ritual, one called the “Sun Dance,” where one ingests a hallucinogenic worm in order to have a vision of their fate for the future, their destiny. This ritual served to breach the gap between the sacred and the normal, the ordinary, to alter reality in which a religion exists everywhere — not only in a book or a house. This was Na’vi religion — Animism.

You enjoyed the ritual and truly felt that you were starting to grow connected with the community. However, you were still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, and accidentally happened to wander onto a slippery log — that also acted as a bridge for a deep canyon below. Your tiny human feet stumbled across the bridge, and then slipped. You landed on your stomach, then realizing the vast canyon below — and that you would face sudden death if you were to drop into it. You screamed out in pain as a branch pierced your leg. You hear heavy steps behind you, you pass out.

You wake up beneath a bioluminescent large plant, with its long tendrils gently swaying over your face. You feel something on your leg, and look to see quite a handsome Na’vi man tending to your thigh, which had a large scrape on it.

“Hey. You’re awake. Almost fell there, girl.” You study his features a bit more. His hair is long, black, his eyes a deep yellow. Chiseled jaw, veiny arms, and wide shoulders <3 adorned with an interesting necklace. You muster the courage to speak to this beautiful man in front of you.

“Yes, I — um, sorry. I should have been more careful. I’m still a bit unfamiliar with the forest, although I’ve done many studies here,” you explain to him. “S’alright. I can take you back to your home base, if ya like,” the man offers, his tail swishing a bit. He must have been excited to talk to you. You blush at the note of attention from him, and agree.

The two of you begin walking back, the Na’vi man stopping momentarily to make sure there were no creatures of harm nearby. You learned his name was Jake. Jake Sully. You watch his long braid sway from side to side, like a pendulum, as you walk behind him. The two of you have been talking, sharing your stories, your journeys, what brought the two of you to Pandora, respectively.

“Was a marine, when I first came here. I was trying to pay for my surgery, to well — get my legs back. M’sure you know, the RDA loves screwing everyone over. ‘Specially me,” Jake explained to you, as he led you through the dark, softly glowing canopy of trees.

“So you weren’t very good at school, then, I assume,” you snicker, trying to poke a bit of fun at him. “And you are?,” he retorts back, emitting a deep hearty laugh, a sound you liked. “I do have a PhD, yes,” you giggle a bit as you look to see his reaction. He only huffs, yet you swore you could see a little smile behind that stoic face of his.

The two of you continued to walk back and engage in this somewhat flirtatious banter. He led you back to your lab, wishing you a goodnight.

“Jake, wait,” you touch his arm as he was about to leave, and he flinched, his ears folding back. He turns to you. “I would want to see you again. It would be nice, I think,” you offer, hoping he would take the initiative. “Hmm. Doubt it. You stay safe, miss PhD,” he retorts, and runs off into the forest.

Yet you wouldn’t take his “doubt it” for an answer.

The following night, you ventured again into the forest, hoping to find him. You might as well take a few pictures, hoping to find your way into the Omaticaya village. You did not find your way there, and instead ended up running into a few creatures. Jake saw, luckily, and saved your “prissy lil’ self” (as he called it) again.

Nights with Jake became a regular occasion. Although you and him had more of a fair share of differences, you found it to be true, that opposites attract.

————

~ Present Day ~

You smiled as you remembered how you first met him. The two of you only went on ‘dates’ together, where he would show you an interesting place he liked in the forest, or take you on a ride on his ikran. Nothing more, just conversation.

Yet, the more you got to know him, the more you wanted him. In a way that surpasses conversations or dates. You really had hoped that tonight, you could go further.

Everything about him was just perfect. His shining eyes, his strong arms, his beautiful voice that made you feel so safe <3.

You hear his footsteps behind you. “Babygirl. How’s my favorite scientist doing?,” he chuckles, his big hands gently gripping your face, giving you a kiss on top of your head. “Good,” you giggle, reaching up to give him a hug. You always have felt so safe in his arms.

“Where are we off to tonight?,” you curiously poke at him as he leads you over a bridge — the both of you hearing the gentle splash of the pond below. “You’ll see, hun. Somewhere real special,” he reassures. Where could this place be? How exactly could you get here, to be spending time with this beautiful Na’vi man, who possibly could be yours??

The anticipation was simply too much to handle. “Wanted t’a bring ya here, to ask somethin’. Was thinkin’ you see, that you could become a true member of the Omaticaya. Pass all our tests and all,” he says, while you lean your head on his shoulder.

You think on it for a bit. “But why, Jake? It would mean that I need a Na’vi body…,” you trail off. “Exactly. Ever since the day I met you, sweetie, I wanted you to be mine. You’re just too goddamn adorable for your own good,” he chuckles. “Can’t make you mine though, officially, without you becoming a tuté (woman) of our people. You will prove yourself to the Tsahik. We will mate, then. For life. You’ll be mine, girl,” he smiles warmly at you.

You agreed, overwhelmed with happiness!! “My Jake, why can’t we mate now?,” you ask, although as a Pandoran anthropologist, you knew the answer. Your human body was no match for his Na’vi strength. If you were to mate now, not only would it be against Omaticaya customs, his sheer power would most likely kill you!!

“Thought you knew the answer there, Miss PhD,” he teases. “How’s about this. I give you a little taste of what’s to come if you join the people of the forest,” his voice shifts to a deeper tone, his eyes a bit hooded now.

A large blue hand the size of your head gently grips your face, turning you towards him. His soft lips plant a few kisses on the top of your head, moving down to your neck. All of a sudden, your oxygen mask gets a little too hot for your face <3 your heartbeat quickens as well.

“Jake…I’d love nothing more than to join the Omaticaya,” you pant, in between breaths as he continues his ministrations. “That’s my good girl. See if those scientists of yours can make you an avatar. Want you to be mine,” he purrs, with a bit of a darker undertone as his large hands squeeze and grope the plush curves of your body — to the point where it’s painful.

You pant and squeal as his fingers trace patterns on your soft tummy, his large face planting a few kisses there as well. “Love this human body, babygirl. Bet your Na’vi one would be even better…,” he praises you. <3

His fingers were getting lower and lower, tracing circles on the hem of your waistband. “Jake…,” you pant out. “Want you…,” a cry, a plea for help. You had no idea how intense your fervor was for him, until now.

“Can’t give you all of me, hun. You can’t take me yet, m’ too big for you. Don’t want ta hurt your pretty little body,” he chastised you, his yellow eyes full of concern.

Just about when you were to agree, to let him give you a taste, that taste that you’ve been waiting for, that taste that your heart (and other parts of you) ached for, the two of you heard a rustling behind, in the bushes.

Out step two steel toed boots, a blue RDA uniform. At first you thought it was someone human — you were surprised to see that it was a Na’vi man wearing the suit. You quickly try to hide, using Jake’s wide chest as a safe haven.

Jake’s eyes burn with rage, disgust. His ears fold back, a low growl escapes his throat, his Adam’s apple moving slightly.

“Miss me, corporal?”

This man had a smug way of expressing himself, hands on his hips. He looked to be a bit older than Jake.

“Forgot about our agreement, all those years ago, Sully?” Jake hissed in response, telling this man, whom he called ‘Quaritch,’ to kindly fuck off.

Quaritch, a man of his word, did not take this as an answer, and continued to move closer.

Until he saw you. He stopped. “Whose this you’ve got here, corporal?” Jake hisses again, standing up this time to shield you from Quaritch. “Leave her out of this,” his tone low, possessive, angry.

“Why don’t you come on out, cupcake?,” his eyes turn towards you. Just like your Jake’s, you saw that they were full of lust, hunger. No affection, though. They were cold, empty. This man was attractive — yes, yet something about him felt off.

Jake reassures you that you don’t have to do it — until Quaritch himself pulls you out from behind Jake’s back. Quaritch circles you, tutting, eyebrows raised.

He turns to Jake. “Got yerself a sweet little toy, huh, Sully? My, my, she’s quite a looker,” Quaritch comments, his voice sickeningly sweet, as his large blue hand plays with your hair. Jake was fuming — ready to start a fight with the man. It was clear that the two had a past rivalry, and never made amends.

It was also clear that the two wanted you.

“How’s about this, corporal? Your little girl here, could very well seal our agreement, don’t ya think?,” he taunts Jake.

“She’s mine, Quaritch. Don’t even think about it.” Quaritch then retorted that it was either this, or his rifle. Jake then agreed.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Sully. She’ll be ours, to share, won’t ya, cupcake? How’s about I show you how we do things where I’m from, hmm?,” his southern accent cooing at you goes straight to your core, between your legs.

You glance at Jake, hesitantly watching. Quaritch then sits down, his giant arms pulling you into his lap, one hand behind your head, the other on your hip.

“Such a pretty girl. Gonna give you something to feel good about,” he chuckles, peppering your face and neck with kisses, his fangs slightly biting into your shoulder as you gasp!!

Jake is infuriated, still watching from the side, although he looks like he is enjoying watching you get ravished by the older Na’vi. Quaritch’s soft lips trail down your soft tummy and waistline, your small hand intertwined with his rough, calloused one.

His fingers trail your waistband — realizing that Jake already pulled off your clothes — your wetness soaked his thigh. <3

“Aww. How cute, pussy’s all soaked f’me. I think I know what she wants,” he taunts you, showing you his big fingers, almost the length of your arm. <3

You nod vigorously, completely forgetting about Jake. “Yes. Please, please, anything,” you beg him. “How’s about you call me sir, hmm, sweet cheeks? More fittin’, don’t’cha think?,” his southern voice drips as if it were melted caramel, seeping through to your inner submission to these beautiful, tall, men.

You were their toy, theirs to own, theirs to play with, theirs to use as they please and see fit. That’s all you could think about, as your tongue hung out, your eyes closed, small hand gripping the watch on Quaritch’s hand, as his two fingers worked and massaged your gummy walls over and over.

You thought of belonging to the two Na’vi men, passed around from the loving arms of your soon to be mate, to the vicious and unrelenting force that was Miles Quaritch, your ‘sir.’ For these two men, you were fine with leaving your life as a scientist behind, just to trail them around.

You were giddy with the thought of it, as you came undone around Quaritch’s fingers, his reassuring words, “let go f’me, cupcake…,” and Jake’s hands behind you, rubbing the small of your back, this was a taste of a life you never knew you wanted.

Now that you had this taste, you were ready to risk it all to keep this.

You fall asleep in Jake’s arms, as Quaritch bids him a ‘till next time,” and your soon to be mate is left wondering what that phrase entails.

Avatar taglist: @aerangi @jake-sullys-whore @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @brioffthegrid

#liz’s masterlist #avatar smut #quaritch smut #jake sully x fem!reader #quaritch x reader #quaritch x oc #quaritch x y/n #dom!quaritch #dom!jake sully #avatar sully quaritch x you #jake sully fluff #jake sully smut #dilf jake sully #dilf quaritch #liz writes 🖤

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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Hi,um this is my first time so I'm sorry if the requests are close.So I read a few genshin sagau and what would happen if the reader get smaller if they don't receive love?Like,they turn younger and younger.And 1 of the character found them but instead if the so called imposter, they find a child?What would happen

Again,im sorry.If the requests are close,then pls ignore me.im more scared of getting a reply😭

the young

a/n: requests are open, don’t worry! personally, i don’t plan on ever properly ‘closing’ them, only delaying / putting them on second priority for whatever reason. thank you for sending in a request, and if this isn’t what you wanted, then feel free to ask again!

word count: ~1.3k

-> warnings: unedited stream of consciousness, but not much else! imposter au. slight mention of addiction, probably obsessive behavior / thoughts… rip to klee / diona / dori / sayu / qiqi mains. mad respect though.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky

at first, you didn’t notice.

teyvat, in its loving kindness, had kept you safe after you’d been run out of the city. boars made sure nobody got too close, cranes kept watch, birds fluttered around your small campsite during the night. your loyal guard, always there, inhuman to some but a blessing to you. the people may not believe you, they may run you out and shout for your capture, but teyvat would always be there.

it would lower the boughs on trees as you mumbled about not being able to reach the fruit, it would send smaller companions as you jumped at the size of a crow, it would lead you to areas with smaller and smaller wildlife, all in the hopes that if it made you happy enough, you would stop shrinking.

when you did notice, you were afraid.

you were sitting on a rock, absentmindedly braiding wildflowers together. they seemed larger than usual in your palms, but so did everything else! your mind told you it was just because teyvat’s plants and animals were bigger than the ones in your world, but you didn’t really believe it.

a large raven carefully landed on the rock besides you, eyes peering at your creation. it was huge, the size of a puppy at least.

…a dog, you correct yourself. no puppy is that large.

the bird hops closer, talons clicking on the stone, beady eyes still watching the wildflowers in your hands. it’s large, unnervingly so, and you swallow before turning back to braiding.

when you reach for another flower, it takes more strength than it should to pull it up.

grass bends under determined shoes, eyes scanning the undergrowth. ferns part, your main ducking under surprisingly low branches. they’d heard from the locals that the imposter was spotted around here, and they needed to be the one to find you.

they couldn’t let down their god. they couldn’t let them down, not when they’d already been punished by being deprived of their aura. they didn’t know what they did, they didn’t receive an answer no matter how hard they begged, but they were certain this could fix it. after all, they were still the favorite, right? they still had their weapon, and their artifacts that had taken ages to collect, and they could still sweep away enemies with the same strength.

all that was missing was the precious aura of being close to the creator, a feeling they would do anything to get back.

the memory spurred them on, even as the thicket grew denser. they did their best to push through, the golden shimmer of their weapon being summoned making up for the lack of light filtering through the leaves, but it’s like the very earth didn’t want them going here.

the thought made them pause, but only momentarily. if the earth didn’t want them there, then that meant it was dangerous, a threat to the people nearby. at the very least, they had to see whatever it was to ensure they could bring the proper amount of backup.

as they cut through the leaves and bushes—doing their best to preserve as much as they could, unwilling to destroy what their god had so lovingly created—they began to feel the same thrill in their bones that came from being near their god. when they first noticed they had to stop their progress, leaning against a tree to mumble a prayer of thanks.

they’d missed this. they’d missed it so deeply, a hole in their soul that nothing could ever fill. from being surrounded by it daily, in and out of battle and other errands, to being stranded without it for months… it could only be compared to an addiction.

when they got their wits about them, they shakily drew their weapon once more. this had to be a reward, right? for going out of their way to protect the people? this had to be a sign, acknowledgment from the only one they truly cared about, and it only reinforced their actions. cutting through the brush was hard, a task of which progress seemed slower and slower with every breath, but this made it worth it.

with a final use of their skill—carefully aimed, as they were well aware of how their hands trembled—the foliage gave way, opening into a beautiful meadow. birds chirped and called, butterflies landed on flowers, and a creek bubbled through the center, emptying into a pool on one side. it was beautiful, an area certainly blessed by their god’s love, and they took a moment to look in awe.

“hello?”

the call of a child snapped them from their thoughts, the feeling of a divine aura pulsing in their veins, and they turned to the source.

a small child was sitting in the grass near the edge of the clearing, butterflies and birds surrounding them like a personal guard. in their hands was a braid of flowers, their clothes stained with dirt and grass.

“hello.”

the favored rushed to try and rationalize the situation, thoughts slowed to a drip of honey by the bliss in the air. this… child had to be the reason they were being blessed, right? their god wanted them to save them from whatever the earth didn’t want them to see, right? perhaps the child was one of their vessels as well? though rare, it wasn’t unheard of..

the child stood from the grass, setting down the flowers and attempting to brush some of the dirt off their clothes. it didn’t work as well as they might have hoped.

they cleared their throat, catching the child’s attention. “you should come with me.”

one of the birds besides the child cawed loudly in protest, flapping its wings. neither payed any mind.

“why?”

‘why’ indeed. they couldn’t exactly explain the entire concept of divinity to somebody so young, and it would surely only give whatever monster lied in wait more time to return. if they were a villager’s kid, they would have heard of them being missing, but they didn’t, so no chance of using the ‘your parent sent me for you’ line…

“somebody very important is looking for you,” they settled, taking a step towards them. “and they’ve sent me to come find you.”

please say yes. please just come with me. i can’t hurt a child. i need you to come with me.

i need their favor once more.

to their relief, the child walked closer to them, and they crouched to meet their eyes. the blessing of their god thudded alongside their own heartbeat, their vision swimming at the edges. this is what they were meant to do. they had to bring this kid to their god. this is how they would be forgiven.

the child said something, something along the lines of trust and belief, but they fell on deaf ears. in an easy motion, the favored picked up the child and stood, walking for where they had entered the meadow.

the kid squirmed in their arms, making themself comfortable, but they didn’t stop marching. exiting was far easier than entering, the leaves no longer seeming to fight them—not that it mattered. they had the key to their god’s favor in their arms, and their blessing in their veins. nothing would stop them from returning to their former position, to where they belonged.

nothing would stop them from returning to their god’s side.

#genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #sagau impostor au #sorry for the sudden dip in upload i’ve run out of short things to post and have to decide whether to edit 16k words or start being Original #also like thanksgiving and shit #hm…. how to tag this….#sagau x reader #? yeah sure why not #genshin x reader

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

Text

Narrative Town: Uncle Ralph

Summary: It's a Rule not to get involved in grown-up stories. But when your parents' lives are in danger, even you will break a Rule.

Based in this world (X) where a magic town forces people to live out popular stories/tropes

-------

You’re used to your parents coming in and out of the house at all hours of the day. They always have a good excuse for why they keep such unusual schedules, but there’s no way they could have an excuse for everything. Being full time thieves is a hard thing to hide.

While they do their best to keep you out of whatever heist they’ve planned, there are some things that slip through. A grappling hook hanging over the edge of the mantle. A map of City Hall spread out over the dining room table, only partially covered by the nice table cloth that you use during the holidays. Police sketches on the news that bear a striking resemblance. Little things. Things you can ignore.

The old guy sitting at the table when you come down for school? Yeah, not something you can ignore.

“Oh,” the old guy says. He looks like he scams people who own yachts. His salt-and-pepper hair is slicked back and he’s wearing a linen suit at seven in the morning. He casually flips his phone face down and starts gathering suspicious financial documents back into a folder in front of him. “Good morning, kiddo.”

There’s a clatter from the living room and your mom lunges through the doorway. You haven’t seen her in two days and she looks rough. There are dark bags under her eyes and her hair is a frizzy cloud around her head.

“Fern,” she says, voice, tight, “honey. I thought you were staying at Caiden’s house.”

“I did the night before last,” you say. You’re trying to figure out how involved you need to get here. The guy is looking at you with way too much interest. It’d be just your luck if he tries to use you against your parents later down the line when he inevitably betrays them. At the same time, he looks like he’d leave one of your parents for dead if it benefited him in any way and you do not want that to happen. You let your backpack slide off your shoulder. “Who’s this?”

“Um,” your mom says. “He’s— he’s—“

The guy sits there smiling slightly, delighting in the rising tension.

“He’s—“

“My half brother,” your dad says from behind you. He’s got motor oil high on his cheek and smells faintly of sweat and iron. He grins and, being a much better actor than your mom, you can only see a bit of uneasiness in his eyes. “Fern can know, darling. I don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

The guy is delighted. He rubs his hands together as he stands, stepping around the table to hug you. “That’s who I am,” he says, arms spread wide and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Your uncle. Uncle Ralph.”

Your dad steps in front of you, pretending like the hug was meant for him. You’re treated to Uncle Ralph’s grimace as he’s forced to accept the bone-shaking slaps your dad rains on his back.

“So good to have him back,” your dad says, clear warning in his voice. He turns, one arm still slung over Ralph’s shoulders. They look nothing alike. Your dad is completely bald, shoulders well-muscled under his working shirt, and he’s got a face made for laughing. Ralph is cologne-ad-handsome and scowling. Your dad forces himself to smile. “He’s only staying with us for a couple days.”

Yikes. You watch your mom hover in the opposite doorway. She’s not happy at the sound of Ralph staying for a couple of days, you can tell. But she doesn’t say anything to contradict them and her eyes are like daggers on Ralph rather than your dad.

You study the three adults. You make it a rule to never get involved in adult stories. There’s always a higher chance of a bad ending. Death, dismemberment, general mayhem. Unless there’s a romance component to their stories, there’s very rarely a happily ever after. Judging by your parents’ reactions, romance with Ralph isn’t in the future. So it’s a regular heist story. Regular heist stories with a kid…

Well, they end really, really badly. Usually for the parents. Unless the kid steps in at just the right time.

“Awesome,” you say. You run over your school schedule, calculating. There aren’t any tests coming up and you haven’t missed any classes yet this quarter. “Can I stay home from school? I’d love to get to know Uncle Ralph better.”

Your mom makes a noise of protest. “Did you say you had a- a school project?”

“Nope,” you say cheerfully. You kick your backpack to the side and slide around your dad to go to the fridge. You’re going to need breakfast before this one. “I can take a day off.”

“Won’t Caiden miss you?” Your dad is better at hiding his desperation than your mom, but you still catch the edge in his voice. “You can always see Ralph after school—“

“Caiden needs to make his own friends eventually,” you say. You keep looking in the fridge so they can’t see the expression on your face. You’re very worried about Caiden, but he knows the Rules. You’ve got to believe he’ll be fine for one day. Two, tops. You turn with a yogurt in hand to blink innocently at your parents. “Why can’t I just take one day off?”

“Well,” your dad hedges. “That’s—“

“Just one,” your mom says. She ignores the panicked glance your dad sends her. “Okay?”

The magic takes hold all at once. You watch as it washes the resistance from your parents’ shoulders so that they stand, slumped and defeated on either side of Ralph. It settles into your bones and whispers your new possible roles into your mind. Child. Hindrance. Bait. Winner. Loser.

“Great!” Ralph claps his hands together. His eyes are calculating as he looks you over. “I can’t wait to get to know you, Fern.”

You bare your teeth and take glee in the half-flinch Ralph can’t hide. “Same, Uncle Ralph,” you say. “Same.”

——48 hours later ——

Alarms blare, earth shatteringly loud in the stillness of the night. You’re crouched under a desk, a flash drive clenched in one hand, waiting for your parents to come back to get you. The complex is big enough that they’d hidden you in one building and gone to create a distraction in the other. If all goes to plan, the three of you will be at home in less than an hour.

You breathe in deeply through your nose, straining your ears for any indication that they’re on their way. All of your preparation comes down to this moment. There’s nothing else you can do to influence the story.

Someone enters the office and shuts the door behind them.

You hold your breath, knuckles white around the flash drive.

The screaming of the alarms continues but muffled enough that you can hear the footsteps of the person approaching your hiding spot. Your heart sinks. Not two sets of footsteps. One.

“Little niece,” Ralph croons. He stops what sounds like a dozen feet from your hiding spot. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Your mind races. He’s supposed to be dead. The first phase of the plan had involved swimming through flooded tunnels to get into the building. There’d been a problem with the equipment and he’d forced your mom to take his oxygen tank so she could continue on. Your mom cried when she got out, relaying how he’d swum away from her to hide his final moments.

He made my mom cry, you think. You roll out from under the desk, gaining your feet in the walkway between cubicles to face Ralph head on.

“Not surprised? I figured. I knew you knew I was alive,” Ralph says. He doesn’t look like a scam artist anymore. No, he looks like a true villain. His hair is tangled around his face and he’s no longer in the wetsuit you last saw him in. He’s wearing a guard’s uniform.While you and your parents struggled to infiltrate this place, he just walked right in the front door. “Clever little niece.”

You feel the magic of the town all around you now, thrumming with tension. If there was an orchestra soundtrack, it would be swelling over this dramatic reveal. You’re dressed like a mini-version of your dad in a full, black jumpsuit and you’ve got your mom’s grappling hook over your shoulder. Ralph’s uniform is all white and tan, just like the suit he first appeared in. You’ve been changed by this story. Dragged out of the naive high schooler persona you once inhabited to become a thief, like your parents.

Ralph? Ralph was always going to betray you.

“What happens now?” You gesture to Ralph and then to the building your parents are still in. “You fake your death and…take the flash drive?”

“By force, if necessary,” Ralph agrees. He smirks. “I knew I would never be able to take it off your dad or your mom. They’re the best hand-to-hand specialists in the business. But their defenseless, untrained daughter? It was a cakewalk to manipulate the situation in my favor.” His face hardens and he holds out a hand. “The flash drive, Fern. I know you have it.”

You let the moment stretch. The alarms are still blaring and you don’t hear the car horn that’s supposed to be the signal for you to come out. Your parents aren’t coming yet. They probably won’t make it in time.

Your shoulders shake. You duck your chin against your chest to hide your expression. The flash drive is hot in your hand.

“I don’t have all day, Fern,” Ralph growls. “Give me the flash drive!”

You give in. You throw back your head, howling with laughter.

Ralph blinks, hand faltering. “What?”

“I knew you knew that I knew you faked your death,” you say. You snort a little. “Giving up an oxygen tank? Swimming away to die? It was all just a little too kind for the Uncle Ralph I know.”

Ralph clicks his tongue. He’s wrong-footed, eyes darting to the doors and windows, but trying to hide it.“You should know that I’m not your uncle.”

“No duh,” you say. You wipe your eyes. “That’s why I’ve been watching you this entire time. I know you were in contact with the CEO. I know he paid you to steal the prototype and blame my parents for its theft and for the theft of the financial records.”

“Well,” Ralph says, “I knew you overheard that phone call. So I’ve been monitoring your conversations with your parents this entire time! That’s how I found out that they were planning to frame me for the theft of the financial records if we got caught. So I faked my death and set the alarms off on them so they’d be caught red-handed!”

“I knew you knew I overheard the phone call,” you counter. A spotlight outside swings towards you, silhouetting you for this revelation. “I knew that neither of my parents could stop you when you had such a powerful backer. Only one person could get in your way. That’s why I called —“

“The police, I know,” Ralph says. He takes an aggressive step towards you and the spotlight casts him in shadow like an avenging angel. “What you don’t know is that I was the operator on the other end of the line! I knew you knew your parents wouldn’t be able to get out of my little web. They were going down and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Why you didn’t tell your parents, I don’t know. But I knew the instant you knew I faked my death, you’d call. So I hacked your phone—“

“I knew you hacked my phone,” you interrupt, taking your own aggressive step forward. Ralph’s mouth clicks shut. The magic of the story wavers around you as the plot twists yet again. “So I played your little game and pretended that I thought I was talking to the police.” You draw out your phone and turn it to show Ralph. “But really? I was sending an email to your boss.”

The magic is really confused now. It undulates around you, trying to keep the narrative tension tight. Ralph is struggling to follow the timeline of what you’re describing and, to be honest, so are you.

“The CEO?” Ralph shakes his head. “No, he’s already in on everything. He knows that I hired your parents to steal the financial records to cover for when I stole the prototype for him so that the shareholders would never know it doesn’t work—“

Magic sparks out of his eyes as he talks faster and faster, trying to keep one step ahead in this convoluted story. You’d pity him if he hadn’t made your mom cry.

“Not him,” you say, “your real boss.”

The magic snaps like a twig. The alarms stop blaring and the searchlight blinks out as the electricity dies in the building. The light of the full moon streams through the windows. Ralph gapes at you, frozen with his hand still outstretched for the blank flash drive you’re holding.

“Don’t you think it’s strange,” you continue softly. This is the tricky part. You’ve met Ralph toe-to-toe. If you’re not careful, you’re going to become his arch nemesis. “Why would the CEO hire not one, but two teams of thieves for this?”

“Your parents are the smokescreen,” Ralph says numbly. But his eyes are far away. “So that I don’t get caught stealing the prototype—“

“But the CEO wants people to know the prototype got stolen,” you say. The magic is starting up again, this new narrative forming right before your eyes. You talk a little faster. You need to get out of the center of the story before it solidifies. “Why wouldn’t he just hire the one team to do that? Why the financial records as well? It doesn’t make sense.”

Ralph is silent for a long moment. Then he inhales sharply, body jolting as if waking. “No,” he breathes. “No, it does.”

You nod. “The shareholders are your real boss. They don’t want the stock to go down. They want it to go up. Their real goal is the financial records. The prototype is a trap. A trap for—“

“A trap for me,” Ralph says. He finally looks back at you, his jaw square. There’s the sound of a car engine in the distance. “I see it now. I see everything. From the very beginning, it wasn’t about the company. It wasn’t about the money. It wasn’t even about the CEO. It was about me.”

Oh geez. You watch as Ralph paces to the window. You weren’t going to say that. You were going to claim the prototype theft was a trap for the CEO. That way the shareholders could put someone a little more willing to fudge the books in power. That way Ralph and the CEO would team up against the shareholders and resolve it together. If Ralph thinks this whole ridiculous sequence of events revolves around him…

You purse your lips and stay quiet as Ralph stares out towards the other office building.

“I’m sorry,” Ralph says. He turns and, with the moon backlighting him, he looks very tragic. Like a lone wolf. Or an anti-hero. “Forget everything you know, Fern. I shouldn’t have dragged you or your parents into this.” He closes his eyes briefly. “This is…this next job has to be me. Just me.”

You like the sound of that.

“My parents think you’re dead,” you say. You hold up your hands when he looks tragically back at you. “I don’t know what you realized, but this?” You whistle lowly. “I’m seventeen. I can’t be involved in this.”

“And you won’t be,” Ralph says. He clenches one hand into a fist, shaking it slightly. “After everything I’ve done, I owe your parents that. So long as they think I’m dead, they’ll be safe. All of you will be safe.”

“Great,” you say. A car honks outside. “Be safe, Ralph.” You turn to go.

“You too, Fern,” Ralph says. He laughs a little, seemingly unbothered by your hasty retreat. “It was fun being your uncle.”

You’re almost to the door. The magic is at your back. “Yep. Too bad you’re dead to us now. Off on your lone-wolf crusade. Later.”

“Wait!”

You unwillingly pause at the door. You can feel the story drifting all around you. You don’t turn to look at him. “Yes, Ralph?”

“Your mom,” Ralph says awkwardly. Like the words hurt him. “She… she cried for me, didn’t she?”

Oh, yuck.

“Nope,” you say. “No, she did not.”

“Oh,” Ralph says, nonplussed. “I just thought—“

“Bye, Ralph,” you say and race out the door.

-------

Thanks for reading! I really love this universe and especially Fern!

Next week’s short story is already up on my Patreon (X)! If you’d like to support me and read stories a full week in advance, please check me out there!

Summary: You are caught by a devil in the woods. She wants to talk about deals and you have always been a good listener.

#my writing #second person #narrative town #fern is a badass #omg caiden was left alone #he is not going to be handling that well #lmaooooo

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stylesloveclub · 9 months

Text

sunshine pt. 2 (sneak peek)

In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

+++

“Oh,” she blinks quietly, staring down at the paper. “Why’s it so easy when you explain it?”

He shrugs, leaning back down onto her bed, “y’just need a lot of practice.”

The bottom of his shirt rises up as he puts his hands behind his head, revealing a pair of black ferns that point towards a yummy v-line. Y/n tries her best not to look... but she’s reminded of the night where she showed up to his apartment to pick up Maddie… how he’d been shirtless, his abdomen so chiseled and firm. The swallows on his collarbones, the butterfly that seemed to jump with every breath. She finds herself getting a bit short of breath as she thinks about all of the things hidden beneath his shirt currently.

That’s the thing about being a touch-deprived, romantic girl like y/n. The littlest things get her going.

“Hey,” Harry says, snapping her out of her daydreams. She tears her eyes away from his ferns embarrassedly, hoping he didn’t notice. “What are you thinkin’ about?”

She averts her eyes, looking down at her bedsheet. “Um, nothing.”

He quirks his brows. “Nothing?”

“Mhm,” she nods her head innocently.

‘Really?” he asks again, his lip twitching with the slightest hint of amusement, sitting up on his elbows now. He raises himself up so that they’re face to face. He’s not an idiot.

She wonders if she’s hallucinating when he leans in.

+++

SUNSHINE PART 2 COMING TOMORROW 07/29!!!!! PART 2 AND 3 ARE ALREADY UP ON MY PATREONNNN!!! :) THIS IS NOT A PATREON EXCLUSIVE MEANING ALL OF IT WILL BE POSTED ON TUMBLR, PATREON JUST HAS EARLY ACCESS!!!!

READ PART 1 HERE

#harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry writing

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dujour13 · 3 months

Text

A little romance to kick off February ❤️

(instead of not-a-date it’s wait-is-this-a-date)

---

“May I take your cloak, sir?”

Woljif dodged the man reaching for his shoulders until he noticed from the corner of his eye that Siavash didn’t seem bothered.

“It’s new, don’t mess it up.” Following the chief’s lead he allowed himself to be decloaked, clamping his arms protectively over his pockets while the waiter whisked off his cloak and hung it to steam dry next to Siavash’s by the fireplace.

Nervously Woljif took in the room, his instinct taking mental note of valuables and escape routes: wood-paneled walls, blazing hearth, the kind of fancy paintings that only looked like something if you squinted, a dozen candlelit tables in crisp white linen, gleaming crystal wineglasses and silverware he reckoned he could easily get seven and a half per set for. Beyond the kitchen, the back doors were flung wide to let out fragrant steam, and a whole contingent of cooks and wait staff stood there smiling like rubes and bobbing their heads to the Knight-Commander.

As they were escorted to a table in the front nook, he caught Siavash’s flushed, bright-eyed gaze and began to feel something was expected of him.

“Swanky place, chief. I thought we were headed to the Half Measure.” He yanked his chair out of the waiter’s hands and scooted it in himself.

“This place just opened. They have Andoren specialties.”

Seemed harmless enough, but Siavash still looked like he was waiting for something.

“Uh. Andoren, huh? Like what?”

As Siavash explained, using a lot of words like “braised” and “flambé,” Woljif fidgeted. All this talk was making him hungrier.

“Woljif, you’ll be needing that dessert spoon.”

He took it out of his pocket and put it back on the table.

Through the windows angled around their table, they could see figures hurrying past on the darkened street, cloaks pulled tight against slanting wind and rain. Within, candles shed a cheerful pool of bronze light that glinted from polished dinnerware. It didn’t fail to cross Woljif’s mind that he had always been on the other side of that glass, dreaming of what it would be like to be sitting here. His stomach responded audibly to the memory.

“I guess you’re hungry.”

“We missed the mess bell by an hour, chief. I’m ready to eat my boots. Flambé.”

For some reason Siavash seemed to find this really funny. At last he brushed a tear from the corner of his eye and leaned back comfortably in his chair, which brought his legs forward so that one ankle rested against Woljif’s, and gave him that expectant look again.

Woljif glanced about, searching for clues. The waiter served Siavash wine and Woljif a glass of flavored water with a slice of some kind of fruit wedged on the lip. Other patrons seemed to be avoiding looking their way too often, respectful of the Knight-Commander’s privacy. A halfling couple at a low table across from them were engrossed in conversation and he watched as one of them took the other’s hand across the table, their fingers twining together.

Oh.

“So um. What’s the occasion?” Woljif asked as lightly as he could with volcanic heat surging to his face.

Siavash beamed. “No occasion. I just thought I’d take you out.”

“Like on a—on a date?”

In response Siavash reached across the table with his palm open, and when Woljif placed his nervous and slightly chilly hand in his, grasped it gently. “Yeah. A date. You all right?”

Only then did Woljif become aware that the whooshing sounds behind him were not the wind or someone sweeping, but his own tail stripping the restaurant’s decorative fern of its leaves. He wound it around his chair.

“Sure. I just didn’t expect…”

“I should have warned you. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

“It is!” Woljif almost shouted. “I mean, yeah. Just not used to bein’ what’s it called.”

“Courted.”

“Right. That’s not to say I never had a date before. I’ve had a few, you know. Pretty busy guy, not much time for that stuff.”

“Thanks for taking the time for me,” said Siavash in a low voice, and Woljif felt suddenly like he’d evaporated, like his body had no mass and he might float to the ceiling. Under the table he felt their ankles slide together and had the urge to grip his chair with his free hand to stay grounded.

This was what the Count meant and what those novels were on about, but it turned out the reality was so much nicer. All the times he’d pressed his nose to the windowpane and gazed longingly at the warmth and food beyond his reach he’d never imagined himself having them in such good company.

“I guess I can spare an hour or two for the Knight-Commander,” he joked, his voice a little thick.

The candlelight made Siavash even more handsome, glowing in his burnished gold hair and dancing in his laughing hazel eyes. Slightly dizzy, Woljif sniffed his drink suspiciously.

“It’s not alcoholic,” Siavash reassured him.

When the amuse-bouche arrived, a tiny bowl of fish soup hardly bigger than a walnut complete with tiny croutons and a doll-sized spoon, Woljif again had to take a cue from Siavash not to call the waiter back and give her a piece of his mind. It turned out pretty good, and there was a lot more on the way: sautéed mushrooms in little copper pots, beef simmered slowly in red wine until it melted in your mouth, roasted potatoes in rosemary and sea salt, vegetables with fancy names glazed with butter and honey, fresh flaky bread still warm from the oven.

Woljif had always reckoned that food was food. He had his favorites like cherry rolls and spicy pastries, but when the Count got to waxing poetic about fine cuisine he was skeptical.

This though—

“Aright, I gotta give it to ‘em,” he said through a mouthful, hunched over his plate with both elbows on the table, mopping up wine sauce with a crust of bread, “this ain’t half bad.”

Siavash seemed to be enjoying every bite Woljif took just as much as he did. He paused in his story just to grin.

Woljif ordered more bread by waving the basket at the waiter. “Wait, so you took a Korvosan Arbiter to a brothel?”

“No, not really,” Siavash laughed. “I just knew the suggestion would get him out of there. One more word and he was going to start a war. Fortunately he was too drunk to walk down to the port so we steered him to his chambers instead and left him with his head in a bucket.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t wake up naked in a ditch in Nidal.”

“Oh, I think the Duchess had much worse than that planned for him by the time we got him out of the banquet. Imagine being devoured slowly by a teacup dinosaur.”

When at last the bill came Woljif had completely forgotten about his nerves and was leaning back complacently in his chair with both hands folded over his replete stomach. The warmth where his shin rested against Siavash’s seemed to have radiated to the rest of his body.

“This was nice, chief. Thanks.”

“It was. I hope it compares well with all those other dates you’ve been on.”

Woljif made a face. “Sure does.”

“So what would be your dream date? For future reference.”

“This but not in the fucking Worldwound.”

They had another good laugh but one look at the bill had Woljif back on his guard in an instant. He glanced meaningfully towards the door.

“Something tells me we wouldn’t get away with it. You’re almost as famous as I am around here these days.”

“Yeah, has its disadvantages,” Woljif sighed. With tremendous reluctance he fished in his pocket but Siavash insisted on taking care of it and couldn’t even be talked into writing it off as a Crusade expense.

Back out on the street they walked close to keep out the chill. As soon as they rounded a bend into an unlit street Woljif seized Siavash’s hand, a little roughly as if swiping something from a store shelf, but with sincerity.

“What about your dream date, chief?”

“This was it,” smiled Siavash, breathing in the night air. “Danger on all sides, the bold heroes finding comfort in camaraderie and a rare moment of respite. Good food. And you.”

“Hells, you are such a sweet talker.”

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #pwotr pals #woljif jefto #siavash #the lark and the crow #my writing #romantic gesture challenge #hangry woljif is fun

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