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tsumtsumrry · 10 months

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Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry.

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face.

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet.

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips.

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is.

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it.

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back.

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways.

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm.

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple,

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him.

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it.

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff.

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact.

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan.

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.”

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more.

“Show me. Take me home, H.”

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much.

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt.

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it.

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips.

“Whatever you want. Kiss?”

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle.

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something.

“Harry…”

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter.

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you.

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter.

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly.

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement.

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.”

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie.

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips.

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time.

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly.

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top.

“Wanna be my sous chef?”

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry.

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.”

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed.

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.”

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–”

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?”

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.”

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you.

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?”

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out.

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly.

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes.

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles.

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there.

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone.

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around.

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes a mental note to check on you later.

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer.

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture.

“Hello?”

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at.

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath.

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears.

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers.

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable.

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.”

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.”

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end.

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out.

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?”

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response.

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.”

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch.

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him.

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?”

“See you soon, petal.”

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry.

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs.

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder.

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response.

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that.

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face.

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth.

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out.

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you.

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group.

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love.

Dangerous.

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.”

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips.

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.”

Ever the flirt, he is.

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know.

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.”

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him.

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him.

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches.

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit.

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there.

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess.

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands.

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.”

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.”

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh.

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night.

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are.

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.”

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit.

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin.

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind.

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for.

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage.

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in.

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner.

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice.

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it.

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger.

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under.

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind.

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.”

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes.

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family.

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times.

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face.

Uh oh. You know that expression.

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?”

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind.

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.”

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow.

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face.

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims.

Your smile drops.

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore.

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date.

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman.

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless.

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone.

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse.

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over.

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break.

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.”

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go.

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,” you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.”

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home.

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes.

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say.

“I want you to meet—”

You can’t do it.

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up.

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now.

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears.

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt.

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry.

December 24, Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside.

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die.��

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day.

Harry.

Over and over again.

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good?

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me.

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please?

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me.

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did.

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried.

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead.

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back.

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me.

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more.

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and go to open it nonetheless.

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door.

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here.

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck.

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put.

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―”

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.”

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―”

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.”

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face.

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest.

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours.

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips.

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes.

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it.

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little.

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—”

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression.

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication.

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–”

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away.

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply.

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs.

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout.

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind.

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time.

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word.

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes.

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels.

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours.

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you.

“I know, I know H.” you nod again.

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much.

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?”

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist.

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies.

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear.

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him.

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will.

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks.

“Do me a favor, honey?”

You nod eagerly.

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action.

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts.

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting.

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.”

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage.

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased.

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?”

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?”

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are.

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you.

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well.

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.”

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat.

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?”

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking.

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good.

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.”

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you.

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips.

“Did such a good job.”

“M’so proud of you.”

“You come so pretty.”

“So beautiful.”

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come.

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face.

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye.

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is.

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit.

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much.

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?”

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later.

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.”

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home.

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit.

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop.

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before.

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?”

“Meant what?”

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

December 31st, New Years Eve.

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist.

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks.

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life.

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him.

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks.

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you.

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look.

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb.

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold.

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look.

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?”

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles fics #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles fwb

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 9 months

Text

☆｡.:*･ﾟ Sweet Nothings ｡.:*･ﾟ☆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader

warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children

a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3

word count: 1.6k

summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.

Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.

You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).

Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.

You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”

“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.

You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.

“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”

You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.

He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”

It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.

“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.

“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.

“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”

You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.

“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”

“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.

You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”

Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.

"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.

"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.

You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.

Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.

When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.

You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.

Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

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becsabillion4 · 3 months

Text

take it out on me (carmen berzatto x reader)

so this is my first time posting a fic of mine on tumblr since i was 14 and i'm slightly terrified by the formatting but i posted this on ao3 yesterday and someone told me to post here too (<3) so i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoy the thought of getting pounded by carmy in the walk-in

pairing : carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary : Carmy is having a terrible service, and you're sure some time in the walk-in will help him cool off (although it gets hotter in there than you might think).

word count : 4,410

tags: SMUT, rough sex, angry sex, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, semi-public sex, ending with soft carmy which makes it all okay, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and also this is NOT an advert for safe sex, it is merely a fantasy i have been playing with since my own days as a waitress and carmy has helped me to realise it. also i'm obsessed and i know y'all degenerates won't send help so instead i ask that you send me asks so i can write more about this wonderful man

Disorienting. Overwhelming. Stressful, painful, unrelenting. Burning your hand hard enough for it to stick to the pan, hard enough that you know on the way to the sink it’s too late, that you’ll bear the scar of that mistake for the rest of your life. Knives slicing always so close to your skin, living on the point of pain, focus trained so hard on the blade you can’t even blink. Shouting, screaming, the place could be on fire, and you wouldn’t look up from the art you’re creating. Flames licking at your apron. Beautiful.

Kitchens are the prison and the heart of a chef, and the one at The Bear is currently the pride and the bane of your life. Plating up your one billionth focaccia of the evening as Marcus rushes by holding a tray of cannolis aloft, you try to tune out Sydney shouting instructions to the new servers, trying to drill something, anything, into their panicked, under-developed skulls.

But none of this worries you. What worries you is the ominous, creeping silence from the station to your right, where you know Carmy is cooking up not only the best food you’ve ever tasted, but an internal storm that is going to be unleashed any, second, now-

“Chefs! Where the fuck is my garnish? Tina, are you dead? ‘Cos you need to wake the fuck back up.”

Tina is already by Carmy’s side with the garnish, but the damage is done. She doesn’t bristle at his words, but shoots you a worried look as she slides by, murmuring, “Sorry, Chefs. Behind.”

Since you started working at The Bear six months back, you’ve witnessed a rare few Carmy outbursts, and you know everyone feels the same way when they happen. It’s like the moment you miss a step on familiar stairs, stomach lurching and fear sweeping through your body. Carmy is this kitchen, and his boiling point is the moment things tend to spin out of control.

And yet, Tina’s reaction is everyone’s; disappointment in herself, instant forgiveness because she knows Carmy is doing everything he can for this team. Last week, after you and Sydney spent the evening getting wasted on her couch, she’d confessed to you how hard Carmy took his notorious opening night failure, and how he’s been struggling to make up for it since then. And it’s been working; his kindness, patience, and passion for elevating those around him have always outshone the occasional harsh word during service.

But this service is just bad. It’s been bad since 5AM, when you got here to take in the delivery and found out that the grapes needed for the welcome broth had somehow been left off of the order. It’s been bad since Marcus ruined three batches of cannolis in a row, and when Sydney tried to touch his shoulder and ask him what was going on, he stormed out. Since Sydney snapped at Richie for singing Taylor Swift badly during family. The hundred little underlying frissons of tension that normally dissipate as soon as service rolls around have congealed today, like oil in balsamic vinegar, rubbing together but refusing to meld into the team you know everyone can be.

And you know Carmy can feel it. His anger is a physical thing beside you, like standing next to a hot pan with too much oil in it and just waiting for it to start spitting at you. Knowing you have to keep stirring it anyway.

“Four top, two steak, one bucatini, one fish,” Sydney rattles off, and everyone responds “Yes, Chef!” a little too loud.

“Can I get some hands for this focaccia,” you shout through the din, pushing the two boards forward, but nobody responds. “Hands, please, get these off my station before I eat ‘em!” you call, trying to bring some levity to the atmosphere before-

“Hands, fuckin’ hands, Chefs, FUCK!” Carmy explodes, appearing by your side so suddenly you almost jump. His hands hover over the foccacia boards like he wants to adjust something on them, fix something, but you know as well as he does that they’re perfect already.

And of course, this just makes things worse.

Carmy properly looks up for the first time, straightening out of the “chef about to have an aneurysm over plating this fish” posture and into his “everyone here is about to get fucked” pose. “These are good to go, why are we not? Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. Go fuck yourselves-” one of the new waitresses approaches with trembling hands and Carmy pushes the boards at her, disgusted, almost taking them over the edge of the pass, “-all of you, what is the point of any of us being here if nothing is leaving the fucking kitchen!”

“Carm, it’s okay, they’re going out,” you can’t help cutting in, but you should know better than to try to soothe a wild animal. Carmy doesn’t say anything, turns back to plating up his fish, but his beautiful artist’s hands, which you often find yourself trying to draw in the margins of inventory checks, are shaking now. You’ve never seen him this bad. The whole kitchen waits on a knife edge. You glance up, watching the waitress leave with your focaccia, and have a brief but fervent desire to be her as the doors swing her out of this hellhole.

The fish is beautiful as Carmy puts the finishing touches to it. A server steps up to take it as other dishes for the same table coalesce at the front of stations, all elegant, all perfect, all more than worthy of the restaurant’s Michelin star.

Carmy is completely still. Staring. And you know it’s too late.

Plunging his fist down, he crushes the fish into sea-scented pulp. The shells of oysters, hand-selected, crack into broken-mirror shards; the sauce is peppered with shoddy scraps of lobster tail.

It’s still not enough for Carmy, as he picks up the plate and sends it spinning into the back wall, narrowly missing Sweeps’ head. “ Shit, ” Carmy mutters, turning back to his station and searching for more things to destroy. You watch him contemplate the knives, and you can’t stay out of it any longer.

“Carmy. Chef. Carmy,” you say as you reach out to grab his muscled arm, pulling him round to face you. You can feel the tension corded deep under his skin, see the sheen of sweat coating his tattoos. Normally, any skin contact with him sends your brain into overdrive, but you can’t afford to be anything but calm right now.

His eyes are wild, but you watch him steadily, and he watches you straight back. You’re not sure why, but the moment reminds you of how you felt on those rare occasions he invited you and Syd over to brainstorm new recipes in his cramped kitchen. Especially that time Sydney couldn’t make it, and you were midway through describing your idea for a yuzu-infused scallops course to him - “with maybe, like, a garnish of broccoli just absolutely smothered in hollandaise” - when he reached forward, tucked a scrap of hair behind your ear, and the very idea of food whisked straight out of your head - but you still felt hungry. And whilst he’d tried out your broccoli idea over and over again that night, you found yourself blushing every time he passed you a spoon to taste it.

You never could get that dish right. Every time you thought about it, you couldn’t separate the flavours from the curious look in his eyes, the way he drank in your ideas, absorbed them before he responded, how his eyes tracked every thought that crossed your face.

Now here you are again, staring at that measured, thoughtful man turned savage, and you wonder if you have the guts to do what you’ve been thinking about doing for a while.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you murmur beneath the clatter of plates behind you, just for him. You don’t look away even when you hear something shatter. You move your hand from his arm, up over his shoulder, push your palm into the curve of his neck and hold it there.

Then you wait, feel his shoulders jumping up and down with his rapid breathing. Wait until he leans into it a little, chasing your solidity, and it’s all the response you need.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.

“Sydney, you got this?” You ask, never taking your eyes from Carmy’s face, worried that if you do, you’ll lose whatever grip you have on him right now.

“Yes, Chef,” she replies, and you feel her edge round the side of Carmy to put another fish on rapid fire. He catches her eye as she passes, and brings his hand up to his chest, rubbing it once in what has become the team’s official way to apologise during service. She responds in kind, and he lets you drag him off the station, past the others shooting him worried looks, straight into the walk-in.

You shut the door carefully, recalling the stories of Carmy’s previous imprisonment. It’s still securely closed, giving you both some calm and privacy to cool off.

Except cooling off is not really what you have in mind.

You turn to see Carmy slumped in the corner, curled in on himself and running his hands through his already-chaotic hair. He stands again suddenly, bracing his hands on the wall behind him as if to remind himself they exist.

“Carmy.”

“Yeah, shit. Sorry, I just need a second. It’s just, I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking about doing something with ceviche, but I couldn’t figure out what fish would work best, and then that sorta spiralled into a panic attack which kept me up whisking eggs for something until three, and then-” You watch his eyes darting over the shelves around him as he talks, and you realise he’s taking stock of what’s there. Even during a full-blown meltdown, he cannot stop working, stop thinking. He starts pacing.

“Carmy,” you say again as you try to catch his eye. He’s staring at some spare T-bones like they’ll explain to him whatever dish he was whisking eggs for last night. Fuck it. You grab his chin, tilt it until he has to look at you.

“D’you know the best way to calm down?”

“Lock yourself in the walk-in for three hours?” He’s trying to relieve some tension, but you have other ideas on how to handle that.

“Sex, Carmy.”

There. You’re terrified that you finally acknowledged it, finally confessed to what you’ve been thinking about for months, but thank God it’s out in the open. You’ve been blushing at his compliments on your food for far too long, ignoring how good he looks in a white tee for even longer. And today has been such a shitshow it can’t possibly get any worse by admitting to this too.

You wait for Carmy to shut it down, laugh it off, maybe even fire you, but he just looks shellshocked. Then again, that is his default look.

“I, um…” He rubs a hand over his forehead, glances up at you almost shyly. “I mean, um. What?”

“Listen, you’re fucking up service. You’re distracted, tired, stressed beyond belief. I want to help you, and I won’t pretend it’s just out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been interested in you for a while, Carmy. You can take that or leave it or kick me out of this walk-in if you want, but I’m here. I want to help you work through things, through all this anger. And…I want you to know you can take it out on me. And maybe even feel better at the same time.”

Carmy is flushed, and you’re all out of words. You kind of wish he was still looking at the T-bones.

“We, uh, we can’t.” Carmy leans back on a freezer for support, crossing his arms in a pose you normally associate with him working something out in his head, deciding what a dish is missing or what it needs to take it up a notch. “I mean, not now. Not here, at least. And I don’t know, we work together. I’m your boss. It’s not a good idea.” He reaches a hand round to his back, starts massaging the strain away there. It’s an especially effective position as he doesn’t have to look at you as he does it, as he says, “Sorry.”

You shrug a little, smile. Try to pretend it doesn’t hurt. Keep it professional, or as professional as you can get in a kitchen. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Get some sleep, Chef.”

You turn to go, hoping that stirring and slicing and plating up will shake off the embarrassment currently burning through to your bones.

But you don’t live to regret the offer as Carmy grabs your arm, spins you and shoves you hard enough into the walk-in door that it rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, everything okay in there Chefs?” you hear Marcus call, and it’s a reality check you absolutely don’t want right now. Carmy doesn’t even seem to have heard him, trailing kisses down your neck, collarbone, shoulder as your body arches into the feeling. You’ve had one too many fantasies about this walk-in since you started, but the actual feeling doesn’t begin to touch the dream.

“Yeah, all good Chef!” You manage to reply, but you barely get the ‘Chef’ out before Carmy’s lips slide over yours, pushing, demanding entry as his body keeps you pressed up against the door. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, is all you have time to think between kisses.

There is no room or time for playing around. Carmy needs this, and you intend to provide, but you’re damn sure getting everything you can out of it just in case it never happens again. One of your hands curls deep into his hair, pulling his head back as your teeth click together in the ferocity of the kiss. You swear you can taste blood, but neither one of you pulls back, the saltiness only urging you on. Your other hand is busy loosening his belt, and you tug it hard to pull the silver prong free of the leather, hard enough that his hips jerk forward into yours and you moan, long and low.

Gravity suddenly spins on its axis as Carmy lifts you, turns and drops you down onto the freezer Fak installed last week. And for once in your life, thank you, Fak. The movement seems to shake Carmy out of it for a second, and he pulls back, hesitates. A hand curves around your cheek, and you can feel an apology coming, see the reticence forming in his eyes. And honestly, fuck that.

You hook fingers through his belt loops, dragging him closer and then using them to tug his trousers down. You’re not gentle as you reach into his underwear, wrap a hand around his cock, and you can tell that’s what he needs as he hisses, his head drifting back.

Removing his hand from your cheek, you guide it slowly down to your neck. His head snaps up, and there’s a darkness, a need, that wasn’t there before as you move your hand slowly, torturously, down his length.

“Hey,” you whisper, reluctant to interrupt the low grunts spilling from him with each of your movements. “I’m not going to break.”

You squeeze his fingers around your throat a little tighter, and it’s this that has him surging forward, messy mouths pressing together again and everything condensing into a rippling, burning, rightness as the fingers of his other hand shove themselves between your legs.

He lingers there for a moment, breaths short and sharp in your ear as he breaks free from your kiss and whispers, ��If we had more time, I would clean up the mess you’re making all over my freezer, Chef.”

“My apologies, Chef,” you pant, the sweetness of the apology marred slightly by your fingers tugging hard through his curls. Then you’re pushing up his white shirt at the back, reveling in the heat of him, the muscles straining under your touch. “What’s my punishment?”

Carmy hesitates, then withdraws his fingers from you slowly, and it feels like the calm before the storm. One hand is still pressed loosely around your neck as he brings the other up to your face, runs the edge of his still-wet fingers over your lips. Asking or demanding, you don’t know, but you’re happy to comply. His pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the blue behind them, and when you slide your mouth over his fingers, taste yourself on him, he closes them in momentary bliss. And it’s so beautiful to see that you can’t resist pulling him in to share.

A Michelin-star chef with one of the most sophisticated palates on the planet. A renowned food critic once wrote of him, “In my next life, I’d like to be just one of the taste buds in Carmen Berzatto’s mouth.” And here he is, savouring you, tongue searching out every corner of your mouth as if he wants to figure out each and every component of your taste. Add the recipe of you to his menu, and make it every night.

You’re both done waiting, and the clock is ticking. You can faintly hear Sydney calling orders through the wall, although she sounds steadier now. You don’t know whether anyone out there knows what you’re doing, but a rampaging elephant couldn’t stop Sydney when she’s on a roll.

Carmy pulls you closer to the freezer’s edge, jeans and underwear falling to his ankles and suddenly he is right there, and-

“Oh, fuck,” is all you can say as he pushes forward in one swift, animal movement. And oh, pain flickers down your spine as he slides almost free of you and thrusts back, relentless, and this is exactly what you signed up for.

“ Fuck ,” he echoes, hand sliding down your neck to settle over your racing heart. “Fuck, you…I don’t know how you do this to me,” he pants, and you try to keep your moaning down so you can hear as words spill from him, “When you come in with your hair down before a shift, when you - ah - when you borrow my knife and I see you using it all service, when you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. Shit. You drive me crazy on purpose, and you wanna know what the worst part is?”

You can’t breathe, let alone answer him.

“The worst part is I eat that shit up every time, ” he snarls, punctuating every word with a short, sharp thrust.

This is the animal you saw tonight, spitting curses, destroying his own food, all sharp edges and uncompromising will. Grunting as he bottoms out inside you, fingers clenched around your upper thigh hard enough to bruise, littering bites over your neck as if your colleagues aren’t an unlocked door away.

But the animal isn’t the end of Carmen Berzatto. There is more to him than the bear, and you intend to remind him of that before you’re through.

“Look around you,” you pant as he thrusts again, harder, sweeter, and you have to get this out before you tip over the edge. So you risk bringing the hand you were using to support yourself forward to turn his chin towards the walk-in’s walls, to beyond them, to the restaurant hard at work and the satisfied diners metres away who have no idea what’s going on in here, and fuck if that doesn’t make it all the more delicious. “Look what you made. Look who you are.” You watch his flushed face, hope he understands the praise, but you can’t hold on anymore to see your words land.

“You’re fuckin’ unbelievable, Carmy,” is all you manage to choke out as every muscle in your body lights up, tenses and releases in a flood so strong you wonder if you’ll ever surface, and if you even want to.

Carmy fucks forward into you twice more, and his head drops onto your shoulder as he groans, shudders, relaxes fully for what may be the first time in his life.

You stroke a hand over his head, pull him closer. You’re not quite sure when this stopped being a no-holds-barred quickie and became a quiet, intense embrace, but it feels right. All the desperation, the keyed-up energy, is gone from him. And if he never wants anything more than that, even though the idea is more than a little disappointing, you can take consolation from the fact that you at least managed to stop a raging Carmy in his tracks.

Although it is a little quiet.

“Carmy?” You ask, hesitant to break the silence. Thankfully, it still sounds like it’s all bustle outside. You wonder how long you’ve been in here, and try not to think about how you’re going to emerge with any shred of dignity intact.

Carmy pulls back, and you can’t define the look on his face, but it worries you. His eyes shine slightly, and his gaze skips across your face, down your body, not holding your stare.

“Are you okay?” You ask, praying this isn’t about to get really awkward really quick. The man’s still inside you, for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah. I, um, I should be asking you that.” Carmy’s hands skim down your sides, fingers pressing in randomly as if to check for bruises. He tilts his head to look under your chin, as if to check he hasn’t caused any permanent damage to your neck. “Jesus. Are you alright? I’m sorry, that was rough.”

“I’m totally fine.” You don’t know what to do to reassure him, so opt for two big thumbs up. “See? Voice working and everything.”

Carmy chuckles unevenly, takes a careful step back, and you try not to consider how empty you feel and how cold and slippery the freezer now is underneath you. You hop off, catching yourself on the side when you realise just how shaky your legs are. When you glance up at Carmy, he’s just staring at you, which is, frankly, unnerving.

“Do I look that bad?” you ask, pulling your hair out of what’s left of a ponytail to start again.

“No. No, I’m just…I’m just taking you in.” The raw honesty in his eyes pins you in place for a moment. But of course, Richie shouts “ Cousin!” before you can read into it too much.

There is a moment of panicked dressing and clean-up, a nod to each other to confirm you both look relatively sane and not totally fucked (even though you doubt it), and then a collective deep breath as you push open the door of the walk-in.

You don’t catch anyone’s eye for a second as you head to your station, Carmy’s presence like an open flame behind you.

“Corner. Corner. Behind, sorry Chefs,” you call as you slide back into place. Two quick glances calm you; one at the clock - seventeen minutes - and one at Sydney, who doesn’t look like she’s about to throw up and only has three tickets in front of her. You spare a final one for Fak in his position by the door, who you are positive would be grinning gleefully if he, or anyone else in the kitchen, knew what just went down in the walk-in.

“What do you need, Syd?” you ask, picking up the familiar back-and-forth of the kitchen again with some relief.

Carmy is quiet, focused, for the last half hour of service, but you can’t keep your mind clear. As soon as last orders are sent out, you slink to the back for a cigarette, hoping the smoke will at least wipe out your brain fog. It does the exact opposite. When you let me light your fuckin’ cigarette for you. You exhale, waving the smoke away as the words churn through your brain. I eat that shit up every time.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re almost thankful to speak to the real him just to distract yourself from thinking about earlier.

“Hey.” You offer him a smoke, and he takes it, sinking onto the step next to you. The brush of his leg against yours is a lot more comforting than you expect it to be, relaxing a secretly worried part of you.

He takes a long drag, the kind of drag you only take when it’s been a shitshow of a day. “I just want to say I’m-”

“Sorry? It’s okay. It doesn’t have to happen again,” you finish for him. It hurts less that way.

“What? No.” He looks at you until you reluctantly meet his gaze. “Not for that. I’m not sorry about that.” He lets that hang there for a second, holds your eye. “But I’m sorry for losing my shit earlier. Nobody deserves to be around that, and…I want you to know I’m working on it. I wanna be…I wanna be good at this.” It’s a stilted apology as he thinks through every line, and it feels all the more sincere for it.

“That’s okay. I know. We all know.” You reach a hand out to touch his arm, and after a second, he lowers his head to rest on his knee, although his face is still turned towards you. You see his eyes flicker from your hand on his arm to your face.

“Although that wasn’t exactly how I expected that to go by the way,” he says after a moment.

You don’t try to pretend you don’t know what he’s referring to. “What, in the walk-in?”

“Oh, no, I’ve thought about it in the walk-in.” You ignore a pulse of feeling at his casual confession, at the idea that he’s thought about you. “I just didn’t imagine it so…heated, I guess.” Carmy raises his head again, traces a finger along your hand where it rests on his arm until you shiver. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

You hesitate for a second before replying. Before extending the branch. “Well, I’m sure there’ll be other times, Chef.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, and it’s your turn to watch his thoughts flickering there, watch as the fog clears, the idea forms, and he says, “Yeah. Next time.”

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wow guys thank you for reading i pray through the act of writing this that my jeremy allen white obsession will calm the fuck down, but i fear i've made it worse

if you'd like to keep up with me on ao3, you can find me here and please do send me any comments or feedback or prompt ideas, i would love to hear them <33 thank you!!

#becsabillion #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x ofc #carmy the bear #the bear #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fanfiction

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xuchiya · 2 months

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k.hongjoong {apron moments}

cafe love m.list || k.hongjoong || p.seonghwa || j.yunho || k.yeosang || c.san || s.mingi || j.wooyoung || c.jongho

just imagining how you [quiet, humourless] would assist hongjoong, one of the new employees of the restaurant, inside the kitchen. His job was to make breakfast menus but for his first day, he’ll be incharge with the other barista.

you hand him an apron which hongjoong finds a little— a huge problem as he finds himself getting stuck with the criss cross apron. you watch at the side before sighing through your nose and approach the struggling man.

"stop moving." your dull voice halted hongjoong in his wrestling fight and froze when you went near him; oblivious to his reaction, you took the apron and placed it over his head, height not a big discussion as you both were on the same height. when your hands run down towards the two strings of the apron, which was quite long to be only tied at the back, so it was also wrapped around towards your front and bow tie it.

and that's what you did, you lean to his side like a hug (but not touching each other) to tie the first knot of the strings then return back to the front; you pull a little too hard causing hongjoong-- who seem to be out of his mind of how close you both were are.

"oof." hongjoong stumble towards you, which you did not also expect his fall; his hand went around the back of your head while the other on the wall behind you both. Your lips open in a small gasp of surprise; both of the air knocking out of you and the approximate distance of you and hongjoong.

Your heart leaped when you made eye contact, you had been a reserved person and never been this close towards any person hence hugging your friends thus the opposite gender.

Hongjoong would run away this instant from embarrassment but he couldn't, not even his muscles were cooperating with him at the moment, he’s paralysed by your beauty and tough front. He had admired women with neutral yet fiery personality, it made dominance picture perfect them when facing challenges.

“Uhm .. hongjoong-ssi ..” he was taken out of his thoughts when he notice your redden face turn to the side, if the situation is not too serious for him; he would smile and tease you but he is playing with his cards that moment and might lose if place the wrong move and got him fire on his first day.

He moves away, clearing his throat in awkwardness, “so-sorry sunbaenim …” you nodded, walking away from him without mentioning more but motioning towards his unfinished apron knot business, “you must know how to tie a knot, finish that and meet me outside.”

Your face was painted with cherry colour as the moment keep repeating like broken record and had you groaning everytime you look at honjoong, “just why do you keep being in my mind?” you mumble as you tow away towards your senior head— Eden.

He sees your figure and immediately he knows something was up, “New kid?” You nodded before sighing softly, “I'm a little worried Wooyoung would lose his patience with him.” Eden shakes his head whilst holding his clipboard, he gave you the clipboard before walking back to his office, “Let’s talk here.”

“WHAT?!” The words hung heavy in the air. Eden is resigning. Your stomach clenched, a cold fist twisting tighter. He was gruff sometimes, a man of routine, but beneath the gruff exterior was a well of unwavering support. He'd become...well, something akin to a father figure.

He sighs, expecting that kind of reaction from you but explaining to him gets harder with each passing minute, “I am getting old sweetheart and seeing the cafe working as I expect it to be is a reassurance for me. I know someone who can monitor the cafe, he’s my godson and he’ll do perfectly for this job. I hope you take care of him well.”

You can not really lie to yourself as what he said is true, the cafe used to be a mere stand that Eden has materials to use just outside his house and now? He has his own shop where some customers can rest while talking to their friends. He started really young, guessing 18 whilst you were just 10 who served people their orders until you got used to the job and now you were his sidekick inside the shop.

But seeing him leave makes a hard time for you, the other workers were hired after 2 years of the shop opening and got close with them. Though with your “dull” personality, they still accept you.

“It’s gonna take time for you sweetheart but I’ll visit afterall, I’m still the owner of the cafe.” He exclaimed, his face showing a fake smug look to emphasise what he had accomplished. You chuckle softly, “Okay okay but at least tell the others the news.”

It was towards evening and the night was still young so in the moment of Eden’s resignation, they celebrated it inside the coffee shop. The air crackled with a bittersweet energy as the news of Eden's resignation settled. Laughter, a touch louder than usual, bounced off the exposed brick walls. Jokes flew, mugs clinked in toasts, and the warmth of the overhead lights seemed a touch brighter.

Yet, beneath the forced cheer, a dull ache thrummed in your chest. Eden wasn't just the boss; he was the steady hand that guided the little ship they called Cafe Love.

Suddenly, a nervous voice piped up, shattering the lighthearted mood. "Uh..." Hongjoong fumbled with his words, cheeks flushed a charming shade of pink. "About what happened a while ago... I'm really sorry. I promise I won't mess up and get myself fired."

You quirked a smile, a genuine one this time. "Hongjoong," you started, your voice softer than usual, "keeping your job isn't really up to me. But," you paused, the corner of your mouth twitching, "maybe lay off testing the new manager's patience, alright?"

A sheepish grin spread across Hongjoong's face. He finds you quite intriguing as your personality wasn’t that hard to break down but something inside him loves the strong facade you kept.

You stole a glance at Eden, his back to you as he wiped down the counter with practised ease. A familiar pang of something akin to loss tugged at your heart. But as you watched him, a silent exchange passed between you, a shared understanding that transcended words, “You seem to admire Eden-ssi?”

You hum, “He took me under his wing even if he had nothing.” Hongjoong saw your eyes twinkle and unconsciously gave you a hanky to which you chuckle but thank him quietly, “Just hearing him resigning just … feels uncomfortable, i don’t know but that is what I feel.”

Hongjoong nodded, understanding what it means to have someone be close to you and gone at the second, “I see, you’re still not used to the absence of someone?” Again, you nodded, Hongjoong’s hand twitch, wanting to comfort you but he respects the space you needed.

“Like they said, Time heals and tells, you just do your thing and keep moving forward.” You look at Hongjoong with a gentle smile, “Wise words. You’re not bad afterall.”

Both cackle on the tall stool near the counter for the barista. You watch the scenery of a new memory amidst the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the comforting murmur of life, change swirled in the air, bittersweet but inevitable.

Maybe Hongjoong is right, time will heal the wound of his absence and time will tell that you are now fine without Eden. Whether he is just at his home doing his music things, he will still remain the father to you and the manager to this cafe.

“Thank you ‘joong.” He shakes his head, a smile on his lips, “No need to thank me, just doing my job as your new friend.”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez x reader #ateez kim hongjoong #hongjoong ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong

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skzhua · 11 months

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Episode four.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: Swearing, mentions of divorce, mentions of deceased parents, arguing. (And Min Ho gets on my nerves in this one.)

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"You kicked her out?" you yelled as soon as you stepped in your dorm.

Min Ho frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Kitty. I just walked her to her new dormitory. I thought we agreed you wouldn't call Campus Police."

He got up from the couch and approached you close enough so you had to look up at him. "We agreed I wouldn't call Campus Police on you, which I didn't do. You never said anything about Portland Stalker."

"I wouldn't have minded that much but since her new dorm mate is weird as hell, I am concerned."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Then don't be? I don't get why you all worked up on this."

You groaned and left to barricade yourself in your room. First day of school went on even worse than you expected. You were startled when you phone started to ring.

"Y/N! We just wanted to check on you. So, first day?"

The excitement in your aunt's voice made you feel bad for not enjoying as much as you should. They had been trying to get you the scholarship for a while to give you the best scholar environment and you couldn't be ungrateful to them. Especially not when it was all Principal Lim's doing for allowing you to stay there.

"Great. I met up with Yuri and made some friends. Classes seem fun and I like my roommates."

They smiled through the small screen of your phone. "We're happy to hear that. Tomorrow, you have a class with me. I can't wait to see you there." your uncle said excitedly.

"Me too. I'll go to sleep now. Good night!"

"Good night, Y/N! Take care."

After changing into your pyjamas – that were surely too revealing for some people but you didn't care at this point – you went to the bathroom for your night routine. Min Ho was already there, doing his own skin care. While he didn't talk to you, he still stepped aside to leave you some space. Him checking you out didn't go unnoticed by you but you decided to not say anything about it. You brushed your teeth quickly and then proceeded to apply your primer.

"That's mine." Min Ho pointed out.

"It's not, I just brought it with me."

He chuckled. "I don't think you did. This is worth $200 and my mom got it for me."

You observed him take it from you. "You do realize I have money too, right?"

"Because of Principal Lim and Yuri? Yeah." he attempted to mock.

You took the primer back. "Because my rich parents died five years ago."

Stunned, he didn't move for an instant. While satisfied with the reaction you got from him, you began to regret spilling out about your parents. You usually kept it to yourself that even Yuri didn't know what happened.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know." he said, his voice now much softer.

"It's fine."

You went back to your room immediately. You didn't want to discuss it any further, nor did you want Min Ho to be pitying you. You needed sleep, and fast.

A week went by pretty quickly. Your uncle taught your history class and you both agreed to not act like family in class, although most of the students knew you were relatives. You bonded closely with Kitty over that week and rarely ever saw Yuri since she was so busy with everything going on in her life. Plus, Kitty was avoiding her as much as possible.

You, yourself, had avoided Min Ho successfully for most part. The only times you really interacted with him were in chemistry class or in the morning where he would always make you a cup of coffee.

You were walking to the library when Kitty intercepted you.

"Help. Me."

Analyzing her appearance, you took in the bags under her eyes and the hairdo that seemed have been done last minute. You held back a laugh and Kitty simply told you you could laugh at her.

"I'm so sorry, but what is this?" you sneered and gesture her whole figure.

"My roommate is the worst human being on this planet. She eats all day, screams at night, throws tissues at me – used tissues – and I have never smelled such a horrid odor. Get me out of there."

"Have you talked to the dormitory advisors?"

"Yes but they said the girls dorm is full."

You smiled apologetically. "Then there's not much you can do, I'm afraid."

She whined. "I hate this."

"You'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

"Says the one who seems to live the perfect life with the guys. How is that going for you?"

You let out a chuckle. "Q is the sweetest and Dae is pretty respectful of my privacy. But then there's freaking Min Ho who can't seem to give me a break."

She squealed. "Oh, Min Ho! I almost forgot about him." she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You're so annoying." you shook your head in despair.

"I know." she snickered. "Ah, by the way. Remember how Q and I found a baby bracelet?"

"Ah, that."

"I wonder how I can find my half-sibling. Do you think they would want to meet me? Do they know our mom has passed?"

You sighed loudly. "Kitty, I love talking to you but we went over the same questions yesterday."

"Sorry." she said in a small voice. "I'm just really excited."

"I know." you gave her a smile.

"We have a watch party tomorrow evening at your dorm, by the way, if you didn't know."

"I didn't know." you frowned.

"It's normal, I just planned it with Q. You can join us. Min Ho's going to participate."

You faked a smile and walked straight to the library. She really was determined when she had a plan in mind...

Q had begged you to join the Outdoors club. While you weren't one for physical exercise, you did love enjoying nature. So you agreed to go to the first hike at least. When you considered having packed everything you needed, meaning sunscreen and a bottle of water, you went to the living area and just had to listen to Min Ho whine like a child.

"I really don't remember giving permission to Y/N to use my custom blend products. She doesn't even need to use them, she has her own stuff!"

Dae zipped up his bag and ran out the door in a second. "Sorry, man. Got to go." he said quickly before closing the door.

"Thanks, great talk!" he yelled back even though Dae couldn't hear him anymore.

He seemed to not have noticed you were in the living room as he slumped on a stool and took out his phone. He looked at it for a bit and then sighed.

"You're always busy, you're never around." he said out loud before dialing to call someone.

"My darling boy!" a female voice spoke.

"Hi, Mom! You're doing good?" he waved at the phone.

"Yeah, just about to head to set." she informed.

"I miss you."

Your heart warmed up from the cute interaction. You were happy to know he had a great relationship with his mother, which you wished you still had.

"But since you're more important, should I tell them to wait?"

He paused for an instant. "No, it's okay. Let's just talk next time."

"Okay, kisses."

He hummed as the call ended. His head down, he folded his phone and breathed out. He kept the same position and you noticed that his jaw clenched.

"Your mom seems sweet."

He turned to look at you and was suddenly alert of his surroundings. "You heard?"

"Not on purpose, I was getting ready for the hike."

"I see. Yeah, my mom's great."

"That's good." you awkwardly went to the front door and put on your shoes while he stood still at the counter, not having moved much. "See you later, Min Ho."

"See you."

When you joined the group outside, you were surprised to see Kitty already stretching out. You walked up to her and asked what she was doing there.

"Q suggested I joined the club so I can have some time with Dae without Yuri around." she explained. "As friends, you know?"

"That's a good idea, yeah." you nodded in agreement.

Q was quick to arrive and encouraged everyone present to do some stretching beforehand. Dae then arrived as well and was surprised to see Kitty there. He joined her the moment he laid eyes on her and she explained to him that she wanted to stay friends. But it was rapidly ruined when Yuri spawned out of nowhere like a character in a video game. She interrupted their conversation and led Dae away from Kitty.

"Do I really have to hear from Min Ho that you're hanging out with Kitty?" you overheard her say.

Just when you thought the man had some sort of feelings behind his pretty face, he had to pull a move like this. Kitty changed spots and, after sending a glare to Yuri's direction, you moved as well and positioned yourself next to Q.

"Alright, who's ready to go on a hike?"

And Min Ho spawned too, and just right next to you. You were about to question him on his presence but Dae was as perplexed as you were and asked him first.

"What? I can't hang out with my best friends?"

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. If there wasn't anyone else around, you'd definitely be beating the shit out of him. And what annoyed you even more was Madison coming up to him with a flirtatious look on her face. Though he surprised you by not looking so thrilled with her advances. You were thankful that Q started the hike soon later and you stuck with Kitty to avoid having to witness Madison almost drooling over Min Ho. It also allowed Kitty herself to forget about Yuri's presence.

"You guys are making great time. Let's keep with the pace, people!" Q encouraged proudly as you were almost to the top.

Walking behind Yuri, you almost walked into her when she stopped so suddenly and let out a yell. She jumped around trying to get worms off her and Kitty took the opportunity to go see Dae.

"We're in nature, embrace it." Q tried to get some sense into her but she kept on yelling.

"They're just worms, Yuri." you said but in vain, she wasn't hearing you.

"Is it on me? I thought the worm followed me, where is it?" she talked to herself.

"I'm surprised you aren't the one screaming about bugs." Min Ho joked as he joined your side.

You moaned in annoyance. "I'm not talking to you."

"Why not?"

"I think you can answer that yourself." you spat out.

Not looking in front of you properly, you didn't see that Kitty had tripped. Luckily, Dae caught her but as for you, you halted your moves too fast and fell backwards. And again, Min Ho was the one who caught you in time.

"So clumsy." he tsked at you.

You quickly broke away from him and cleared your throat. Meanwhile, Yuri interrupted the duo in front of you and Q went on about safety before walking again. You definitely regretted coming here.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"What question?" you acted clueless.

Min Ho chuckled. "So we're being petty now?"

"I'm always petty with you." you argued.

"You weren't this morning."

You groaned, growing impatient with him. "Can't you leave me alone for a day?"

He didn't know what to respond and you took it as he understood the message. With that being said, you fastened your pace and arrived next to Dae.

"Hey." he smiled at you.

"Not in the mood, just walk."

The poor guy gulped but listened to you and didn't speak to you again. But your hike was halted once again when Kitty and Yuri started to run to the end.

"Just, make sure that you stick together!" Q yelled at them.

"I'm pretty sure they can't hear you." you smiled at him sadly.

"I know." he shrugged.

Min Ho then went to Dae causing you to walk away from them. You hated this, all of it.

"Why did you come?" Dae complained to his friend.

"Because I'm looking out for you, that's why I called Yuri."

"Let me deal with it on my own."

Dae came next to you again, visibly avoiding the man as much as you were.

"So much drama." you heard Madison from behind.

"No one asked." you said loudly for her to hear.

With Kitty running away from the hike, you went on with the watch party without her. After Q set up everything, he sat next to Florian while you sat on the floor to let them have their moment. Focused on the screen, you were disappointed to get interrupted by Min Ho walking out of his room.

"Hey! My mom is in this. She plays the king's second daughter."

"Nice, now shut it." you said rudely but he dismissed your request as Florian asked him about her.

"Does she still act?"

"Oh, yeah. She's absolutely smashing it right now in LA. She's up for a role as a mermaid in the mafia."

"Great, can you go now?" you asked, insistent since you didn't want him to be ruining Q's moment just like he had done with Kitty.

He ignored you again and walked to the couch, asking Florian to scooch over to leave him space to sit.

"Oh, I could give you, guys, the behind-the-scenes dirt on this." he continued and you mentally cursed at him.

"Okay, I love dirt." Florian replied.

He finally shut it for a while and you thanked whoever for it. As per usual, it didn't last long.

"It took that guy twenty takes to nail that."

You threw your head back in disbelief. Was he that clueless to not get a hint? The thousands of glares he got from you and Q weren't enough?"

"Oh, hey, look! It's my mom."

"Oh, wow." Florian commented. "She's gorgeous."

"I know! Thank God I got her bone structure."

"Taking any opportunity to make it about yourself, uh?" you turned to look at him.

The infamous smirk was already there. "Always."

"Wait..." one of the other guys said. "Didn't your mom and dad have that messy divorce?"

"The whole mess was exaggerated to sell magazines." he said in defense right away. "But yeah, they did get divorced."

That part was said which a much calmer tone, it sounded almost sad to you. Determining that it was enough of him ruining Q's evening, you let out a long breath.

"Okay, we get the point." you announced as you got up. "Your mom's an actress, it's great and all but I need to talk with you."

You took him by the arm and forced him up. He tried to stay at his seat but you were stronger than he expected. So he let you forcefully get him off the couch and you dragged him back to his room, not forgetting to close the door.

"Is it the moment that we're supposed to kiss after you reveal you have a crush on me?"

You scoffed. "So you really do think about yourself all the time. I was saving your ass from talking any more about your parents and that's how you thank me?"

He smiled with a knowing look. "So you do care about me."

"I care more about Q. Tonight was for him to make a move on Florian but you couldn't shut it."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?"

You deadpanned at him. "Really? Ah, you're killing me."

"Fine, maybe I did get the message but I'm looking out for my friend."

"Yeah, just like you're looking out for Dae when it's none of your business."

"Y/N, this isn't your business either."

You huffed. "You're damn right it isn't but for some reason, I get dumped with all of it and it's a hassle to carry so many drama when it doesn't even involve me."

"Just go away then!" he snapped at you. "If it's that hard to deal with."

Your jaw clenched as you stayed still, glaring at one another. You scoffed once more and left his room without adding anything else. It took you aback when you heard him follow you. The other guys had already left so only Q remained in the living room. That made arguing less embarrassing.

"Y/N." You stopped and waited for him to continue. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

You went to hide in your room and you heard him sighed in defeat. You didn't know what was up with him today but it only confirmed to you that you wanted nothing to do with him.

taglist: @nanaspalette | @schniti-is-in-the-house | @bakugou-katsukis-wife |@soobin-chois | @honeydewpie

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

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y3nze1 · 1 month

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𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.8

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / Navi

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hiii pookies! Chaz here, how we doin?!?!!? good? good. here's chapter 8 for yah. writings kinda different cause I'm writing. shh. don't complain /j. bit bear with me on this one yall! like yen, HAPPY READINGS!

"Come in!" called Loralie from inside the store, wiping off the counter as the sound of a bell rung, the two people walking inside the store. she smiled widely. "Ah it's you two! come in, come in. what can i get for you today? some hotcakes? muffins? the usual?"

"black coffee, Lor, and for niftt-" husk was cut off by niffty as she looked through the glass of treats and sweets. "Salmon mousse Canapés! i'd like to try something new" the girl giggled happily, continuing on to look through the glass. "well, uh.. i guess that's for hers.

Loralie smiles and nods, scribbling down the orders. "Alright, one black coffees and a salmon mousse canapé. That'll be ready in a few minutes. You two are welcome to sit down while you wait.." She gestures to a nearby table as she gets started on the order. "any gossip today? nif?" Loralie turned to niftty after handing out the order to her co-worker.

"no.. not much, well.. Al has quite focused on his broadcast nowadays, i mean it's not new but, I'm pretty sure he's still looking out for that 'Daisy' girl" Niftty spoke, walking over to the side of the counter. "Daisy.. Huh?.." Loralie grinned, packing up the orders slowly as she listened in. "Yeah!.. daisy, the one that always calls his station.. I heard he asked her out on a date but she didn't come!" Husk appeared behind niftty as she spoke. "That was actually true, That dumbass came to my bar the other week, complaining about his fucking love life" Husk groaned, rolling his eyes, grabbing the order from Loralie.

"i think i know a thing or two about.. Daisy" Loralie grinned, leaning over the counter to tell the two, in which they listened.

ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋࣭

"And then!- Y/n was so worried to face you that day so she didn't went as daisy which is kind of an idiotic move for me, but then you spent the night with her at the park. so you technically did go on a date with daisy but technically didn't because y/n is daisy, and daisy is y/n, also made me wonder wh-" husk pressed a hand over niftty's mouth, sighing. "he gets the idea, nif.."

the two looked at Alastor who has a slightly shocked reaction on his face. sitting blankly on his desk as muffled songs played in the background. "i don't.. know if i should be angry.. or.. anxious.. or glad.." he looked at his feet, running fingers through his hair as he sighed deeply. "Al, Sorry you had to find out this way... i mean- it would have been more meaningful if you know.. it came from her." niftty approached Alastor along with Husk beside her, she softly place a hand on his shoulder.

Alastor leaned back at his chair, closing his eyes as he huffed deeply. Alastor lets out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair once as he tries to process what he's just learned. He feels a mix of emotions coursing through him - anger, hurt, confusion, but also a strange sense of calmness. He looks up at Niffty and Husk, his eyes full of a deep sadness.

"I understand why y/n did what she did, but I can't help but feel betrayed," he says, his voice heavy with emotion. "She knew how I felt about her, how much I cared for her, and yet she chose to deceive me in this way." He shakes his head, looking down at his desk again. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel right now.. i think i need to be alone for a moment.." the two nodded at his words, leaving his room for him to contemplate for a moment.

He sat silently, playing another song for his audience. he softly chuckled at the mishap. "Daisy.. daisy.." he repeated. after a few moments, the song slowly ended, the telephone rang. in an instant he picked it up. "Good Afternoon again, Alastor" Alastor grinned, leaning back on his chair. "Good Afternoon to you too.. Ms. Daisy, the usual songs, i sense?" He chuckled. Playing her requested song. after that, he stopped speaking over the mic, talking to her personality, he spoke once more. "Could i perhaps.. I don't know.. maybe ask you out, Ms. Daisy?.."

ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋࣭

Alastor waited at the same park, spending the same hours as he did, waiting for 'Daisy', till then, he felt a presence of someone sitting next to him. "Hello.. Alastor, How are you tonight, Still waiting for.. Daisy?" He turned to look at you, his smile widened, playing along. "Unfortunately.. Yes"

Alastor chuckles, feeling a warm sensation in his chest as he looks at you. "Well, it seems that Ms. Daisy has decided to let me down again tonight. But that just means that I'll be able to enjoy the company of someone else." He turned to look at you once again. his eyes staring at you deeply. you let out a soft chuckle at his words. "So, Y/n, My Dear. What are you doing here in the park anyway?" he softly spoke.

"Just wanted to take a quick stroll, the night is quite lovely, isn't it?" He nodded, Alastor smiled, looking deep into your eyes as he spoke. "Yes, it is a lovely night. And yet, somehow I feel as though there's something missing." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose the lack of Daisy is a little bit of a damper." He placed a hand over yours. "Either way, i shouldn't be sorrowful, it's a wonderous, that shouldn't be wasted, don't you think? Now, Would you do me the honor of being my company for the night?" he held out his hand.

ೀ.ᐟ⭒๋࣭

"You're really fucked up, Al.." Husk walked over to him. standing beside Alastor as he looked at the other side of the lake. Smiling, the wind flowed. as he chuckled. "Say what you want, palx he shrugged. leaning against the railing of the balcony.

"A goddamn house?.. are you serious? just to see her apartment?" Husk rubbed his temple. "All for a fucking girl?" he groaned turning to Alastor.

"A girl I care for very deeply," Alastor replies, his voice slightly raised. He stands up, towering over Husk as he glares down at him. "A girl who I would do anything for," he continues, his voice growing more emotional as he speaks. "And if I want to spend a few nights in this house just to see her place right before me while i open my eyes, then that's exactly what I'll do." He gripped at the railings, staring at lights of your apartment.

"I'd climb the highest mountain if she wanted me to, swim the deepest trenches if she pleases, take a shot through the heart if she asks me to." he smiled to himself. staring down at the flowing water.

"I'll stand by her whenever i can, suffer in the distance in sakes to keep her happy. more than anything. I'll be there, even if she doesn't know i am, I'll be glad that i was.. in the moment, just right behind her."

Husk nodded, staring in the distance too, lighting a cigarette, placing it on his mouth as he did so. taking a puff. Alastor smiled, his eyes closing as he listened to the sound of water hitting the shore. He took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calmness wash over him. "You are a great person, Husk," he said, opening his eyes and turning to look at him. "You may not understand why I do what I do, but you are still there to support me, and I appreciate that more than you could ever know." He reached out and placed a hand on Husk's shoulder, squeezing it softly.

"Hey, what ever fucked up thing you got over your head. I'm still here.. I'm stuck with ya anyway" he chuckled, taking another hit of his cigarette. Alastor turned to look at your apartment. "Hey Husker, do you want to come with tomorrow?" Husk raised a brow. "What for?"

"I'd like to go on a quick.. shopping" He smiled. chuckling softly as looked at you apartment once more.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin #1920s #alastor altruist #human!alastor #plmasrm cause why not. i hate tags.

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explorevenus · 2 years

Text

ride the lightning - steddie x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!

word count: 7k+

tags/warnings: reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, daddy steve, master eddie, sub/brat reader, praise, degradation (includes use of slut/whore a couple times), spanking, threesome, thigh riding, edging, orgasm denial, restraint (reader gets handcuffed for a min), mild dacryphilia, oral (m+f receiving), fingering (f receiving), anal (m receiving)

(^^^ i got carried away heheheh)

a/n: not new to the fandom but this is my first stranger things fic so i'm incredibly sorry if any of this reads ooc !!! i'm also not,,,, the best at writing in second person so this was originally written in first person and then gradually converted over, i hope it doesn't sound awkward ;w; last apology of the day is for formatting, i haven’t posted to tumblr in years so be patient w me lol

for the record this takes place in an au where eddie never d*ed-- u and eddie and steve share an apartment ♥ aka the best au

my ao3 ♥

masterlist ♥

fic under the cut !! thanks so much for reading !!

It was fun to push Steve's buttons sometimes. Of the three of you, he certainly had the shortest fuse.

It was fun to pick little arguments with him about meaningless things until he'd reach his wits end and scold you for being difficult. It was fun to wear short skirts around him, to watch his strong hands tighten around whatever he's holding as he'd look up the length of your legs with his lip between his teeth. It was fun to tease him in social settings, like parties, for example, with 'accidental' lingering touches to the front of his pants, and suggestive whispers right into his ear when no one was watching. Or when his friends were watching, so he'd have no choice but to swallow his reaction.

Sure, it was all fun and games, until you were being escorted out of said party by Steve himself, dragging you along by your bicep with his fist closed so tightly around you that it felt like a blood pressure test, and he was seething so strongly with annoyance that he wouldn't even look at you. Under normal circumstances you might not have felt so confident, but this was the first outing you'd attended in quite a while, and your tolerance for alcohol had tanked considerably in that time, it would seem. Just two strong drinks had you stumbling, and for that you were oddly thankful that Steve was holding you strictly upright and moving, even if he was seething.

You couldn't stop giggling as he dragged you along. "Steve, come on, don't be mad," You teased. "I said I was sorry!"

But he didn't say anything in response, his cold stare unmoving as he walked you through the chilly, sobering air-- it was a short distance to the car, though, and once you were inside with the doors safely shut, all bets were off.

"'Sorry' doesn't even begin to cover it, princess," Now he was the one laughing, but it wasn't jovial and light-hearted like yours, no. It was devilish, patronizing, like he knew something you didn't. It sent a shiver throughout your body, and your thighs shifted in response. Observant as ever, Steve noticed your movements almost immediately, and he swatted at your knee. "Stop that," He demanded lowly. "When we get home, you are so dead."

In your anxiousness the drive felt dizzyingly short, and as he turned into the parking lot of the apartments, your eyes caught sight of a certain big brown van parked by the stairs-- a vast majority of that confidence you felt earlier was sucked out of you in an instant. Eddie's home from rehearsal early. You knew that Steve was going to use this to his advantage, and when you looked over to see him grinning widely at the van like he'd just won the fucking lottery, you figured he was way ahead of you.

Oh, you were dead alright. You were doomed.

"S-Steve," You reached for his hand, eyes pleading up at him. "Don't--"

He parked and got out so quickly that it seemed like one smooth motion, and before you knew it he was opening your door and grabbing you by the wrist. Thankfully there was no one around, but still you felt your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning hot already. "That's not how this works, (Y/N)," Apparently you weren't keeping up with him well enough, as he jerked your arm forward to pull you along with him once you reached the top of the stairs. "You don't get to poke the fucking bear all night and then act innocent when you decide you don't want to face the consequences."

Steve threw the front door open carelessly, like it was just another puny thing in his way, kicking it shut once again as soon as you'd made it through the doorway. Eddie startled at the sound, looking up from where he sat on the couch. Music sheets and pages of notes were scattered around him, and he added what was currently in his hand to the pile before raising an eyebrow, "Uh oh, what did I miss?"

"Someone I know has been a needy fucking brat all night," Tossing his keys on to the counter, still gripping your arm hard enough to leave a bruise, probably, Steve began to walk you over to Eddie, and your heart retreated further into your throat with every step you took. "I am sick and god damn tired of it!" Steve shouted, letting go of your arm just to flip up the back of your skirt, striking your ass so quickly and unexpectedly that you stumbled forward at the force of it, nearly losing your footing. You couldn't help the shrill yelp that came from you, and as the sting radiated outward you couldn't bring yourself to look at either of them. It was dawning on you that perhaps you'd dug yourself a much deeper hole than you'd originally thought. It was like a switch flipped, and you went from damage control mode into fight or flight mode, an internal battle which 'flight' won instantaneously.

But, Steve knows you all too well, of course-- you didn't even have a chance to dash to the other side of Eddie before Steve hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you back into him with a level of ease that served all too well to remind you of his strength. Eddie was stunned as he watched this unfold before him, brown eyes widening further when Steve took you by the hips and forced you into Eddie's lap, straddling his right thigh. You sucked in a breath as your center made contact with his ripped jeans, the thin seat of your panties being the only barrier between your sex and the rough denim. Face burning, you let your eyes wander the many patches and buttons on his vest as a means to avoid eye contact as his guitar-weathered hands slyly took the place of Steve's over your hips.

Steve cupped your throat from behind, cradling your jaw between his thumb and forefinger so that he could redirect your gaze straight to Eddie. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that familiar warmth growing between your legs as you struggled to keep your composure, but Eddie was drinking in the sight of you like you were the best present he'd ever been delivered, big red bow and all. Steve came close to your side, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he gave you one simple order, "Ride him."

Stunned, you whimpered, "D-Daddy--"

"I am not going to ask you again," He squeezed your throat, just for a quick moment, a reminder of his strength over yours, before growling in your ear, "Ride. Him. And don’t even think about finishing unless I tell you to."

Eddie's fingertips pressed firmly into your hips, rocking you back and forth gently, like he was encouraging you to move on your own. "What's the matter, princess?" Eddie teased with a handsome smirk that bared his teeth. "Sounds t'me like this is what you wanted."

He wasn't wrong, but that was precisely why you couldn't trust it. It felt too easy, too good to be true, and that made you insanely suspicious of Steve's intentions. Still, you were desperate for the friction, and you couldn't help yourself from beginning to follow Eddie's movements, however hesitantly at first. Your mouth fell open in a soft gasp, but you quickly rectified by biting your lip and allowing your eyes to fall closed. Steve always treated humiliation like a sport he was determined to win, which made you want to deny him the satisfaction that much more. Your shaking hands found purchase clutching at the waist of Eddie's denim vest, and you flinched a bit, peeking your eyes open when he took your cheek in the palm of his hand, cool rings resting along your jaw.

"Hey," Eddie spoke softly. "Use your words."

But how were you even supposed to answer him without admitting defeat? Frustrated, you let out a sigh and found yourself subconsciously grinding harder into his lap-- it was much easier, and much more alluring, to focus on the feeling. Still, Eddie was waiting on an answer, and it was a known rule of theirs that you were expected to respond when spoken to.

It wasn't a coincidence that they also happened to be great at talking you into walls, and loved doing so.

"Master, s'not fair," You slurred, once you'd finally found the words. "I-I wanted to ride more than your thigh..."

Eddie shivered, grasp on your hips tightening, but Steve could only laugh. "Not fair, huh? Isn't that a shame?" He taunted in your ear. "You were acting like such a brat all night, clinging to my arm like a needy fucking slut, bending over in that little skirt and flirting with other people right in front of me, because you're just so starved for attention at home, aren't you? Fucking pathetic."

Now Eddie was laughing along with him as your ears burned, and he gasped lowly in mock offense, "And here I sat all night thinking you were out there being a good girl for your daddy. Sweetheart, how could you?"

Fuck. I should've known that Steve was gonna rat me out. Every last bit of hope you had for getting Eddie on your side was dwindling away before your eyes. Your gaze fell to his lap, the need inside you only growing with every movement, every pass of your hips over his warm thigh. "I said I was sorry..." You tried to rectify.

"Not good enough," Steve was quick to interject, his hold on your jaw tightening again so that he could correct your line of sight. "Eyes forward, baby. Don't make me ask you again."

Your cheeks burned red with humiliation as Eddie met your eyes with such smug pity. "There you go, sweet girl," He hummed, cradling your cheek with one hand and your hip with the other, pressing you down just a little bit harder against his thigh, grin widening as you quivered. "So you can follow directions." He teased. Steve let out a breathy chuckle in response.

"Master..." You whined, doing your best to resist every last part of you that wanted so badly to avoid eye contact.

"What, not funny? Daddy thought it was pretty funny."

Suddenly, and very much without warning, the palm of Steve's hand came down hard against your ass, making you cry out both in pain and surprise, bucking forward into Eddie's lap in a way that sent a jolt of white hot pleasure through your core. Your eyes rimmed with a thin barrier of tears. Steve spoke into your ear, "I'm getting pretty sick of your attitude, (Y/N). I think you need to lighten up."

Your knuckles whitened around the sides of Eddie's thick leather vest, your pace quickening as you rutted desperately into his thigh in search of that feeling again. Nuzzling into Eddie's palm for comfort in the wake of your spanking, you responded to Steve in the best way you knew how, "I'm sorry, daddy."

He took a moment, as if he were pondering whether or not to accept your apology, but ultimately his grasp softly withdrew from your throat, and he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Thank you, doll."

But there was something... off about his tone. Under normal circumstances you would have turned to look at him, but you couldn't chance taking your eyes off of Eddie if you wanted this to go even slightly your way. Thankfully Eddie was the one to break the eye contact first, glancing down to where your clothed cunt met his thigh. He smirked, glancing back up at you through his messy curls. "That feel good, baby?"

"Yes, master," You answered obediently, resisting the urge to look for yourself, as you had a feeling he was trying to trick you into getting yourself into more trouble. No matter, you could certainly feel what he was probably talking about-- the seat of your panties was thoroughly slick with arousal, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. "It feels good. S-So good."

"Looks like it-- you're makin' a pretty fuckin' mess all over me."

Your trembling hands travelled lower in place of your eyes, until the palm of your right hand slid over the front of Eddie's jeans; you felt his cock twitch at the contact, stiffening beneath your touch, but still, you waited a second to test whether or not he'd stop you-- or if Steve would, for that matter, who seemed awfully quiet.

But they didn't.

Your heart leapt into your throat with excitement, and you began to palm him through his jeans. You felt him shiver beneath you, and watched as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth, oak wood eyes darkening almost to black. He would never admit it, but his cheeks had a rosy glow, too.

But you should have known it couldn't be that easy.

You flinched as Steve's hand came down on your shoulder from behind, and you froze in place, the pace of your hips faltering for a second. "Did I say you could touch him?" He asked.

But your brain was becoming rather fuzzy with lust, and you knew you were slipping further and further into subspace with each passing second. You knitted your eyebrows together, tilting your chin just enough to look at him. Steve's hard-handed approach was starting to get on your nerves. "You never said I couldn't." You sassed.

Steve scoffed, tugging gently at your hair just to throw you off that much more. "I shouldn't have to," He scolded. "Good girls don't just get whatever they want because they want it. Tell me, (Y/N), what do good girls do?"

You continued to massage Eddie's stiffening cock through his jeans, mouth watering as you couldn't seem to get enough of the feeling of him growing hot and hard under your hand. He gripped your hips, taking control of your movements until you were nearly back where you'd left off, and when you realized in a brief moment of clarity that Steve was still waiting on an answer, you sighed in frustration. You could hardly remember what he'd even asked. "Daddy..."

"Tell me," Steve tugged at your hair again, a little harder this time. "Come on, baby, I know you know it. Tell me what good girls do when they want something."

So that's where he's going with this. You huffed quietly, "A-Ask nicely..."

"I can't hear you," He taunted. "Speak up for me, please. Use your big girl voice."

"Good girls ask nicely," You spoke louder this time, making sure to enunciate, letting yourself tip backwards into Steve’s chest as that coil in your stomach began to tighten, trying at least a little bit to hold yourself accountable and withdraw your hands, but you just wanted Eddie to feel as good as you felt. Shakily, you continued, "G-Good girls say please."

With a wicked and devious grin, Eddie began to bounce his leg, watching smugly as you arched and whined in pleasure, breaking your promise to Steve just for a brief second as your eyes fluttered shut, though you quickly corrected. Eddie hummed, "That's right, princess, you know better, don't you?"

You nodded lazily.

Reaching around you, Steve grabbed your arms and propped you upright, forcing them behind your back-- you didn't have a lot of time to wonder what he was doing before cool, familiar metal settled around your wrists, tightening with a few clicks.

So he wasn't just being quiet earlier, he was grabbing our cuffs from the bedroom. Sneaky.

"Y'know, since you can't seem to follow simple directions," His words were cold, but you could practically hear Steve grinning through his tone. "It's a shame, really. I know how badly you wanna touch your Master, but naughty fucking sluts don't get that privilege, do they?"

You shivered, finding it increasingly hard to focus on his questioning as you slipped closer and closer to the edge, but never close enough. You wanted more, needed more, but at this point you had no chance in hell of gaining their permission. It would be embarrassing to even ask now. Instead you bit your tongue, shaking your head softly in defeat as you answered Steve, “No, daddy, they don’t...”

He gave you a patronizing pat to the head. "Now you're getting it."

Eddie was eating up every last second of this interaction, though it was evident that his own arousal was becoming... dire. He continued to bounce his leg beneath you, cradling you so closely toward the edge, but equally so he was shifting where he sat in what you guessed was an attempt to alleviate the pressure. Maybe I can work with this...

"Master," You panted, knuckles white behind your back as you gazed deeply into his round, soul rendering eyes, humping his thigh as fluidly and artfully as you could manage in your state of pleasure. "Please... may I please suck your cock?"

His lip upturned into a grin, his hot body rumbling beneath you as he shivered at your words. Quickly, he glanced over to Steve for input-- after all, it really was up to Steve-- and then he turned back to you, and you could hardly read the look on his face. You wanted so badly to shed him of his clothes, to feel every inch of his hot skin on yours, to do him the kindness of relieving that ache. Suddenly your own clothes felt that much more confining, and you huffed softly in frustration.

Finally, Eddie answered lowly, "Sorry, princess, daddy says no."

Your face twisted into one of confusion and annoyance. "What?" You turned to look at Steve, uncaring of the fact that that technically meant defying him-- he looked infuriatingly proud of himself, arms crossed casually as he flashed you that famous smirk. He should be glad my hands are bound right now. "I asked nicely! I said please!"

"Yes you did, honey, and I'm so proud of you for that," He said, tone dripping with amusement at your reaction. "I just don't think you've learned your lesson. What do you think, Eds?"

You quickly turned back to look at Eddie, who looked equally pompous. "Gotta agree with ya there, Harrington," He declared, and your jaw dropped in offense. Eddie then continued, "Can't just let her get away with whatever she wants."

Now that was the nail in the coffin. You'd lost Eddie to Steve's cause.

By now it was becoming highly difficult to hold yourself together-- you hadn't even finished and you were beginning to feel the bittersweet start of overstimulation, every bump of your clothed clit against Eddie's thigh resulting in a sharp jolt. A fat tear tumbled over your cheek, soon followed by another. You took your lip between your teeth and dug your nails into your palms, shifting in your restraints. "D-Daddy, please, it hurts..."

"I know it does, princess. Maybe it'll teach you a thing or two."

You groaned, hips stuttering-- even a break would have been nice. Of course you had a safe word, and you knew that if you used it they would stop in a heartbeat and dote on you to no end, but you were determined to see this through, to prove to them that you could be good. You would do almost anything to get back into their good graces at this point, and you knew Steve liked a challenge. It wasn't going to be easy, but good behavior must hail a good reward, right?

Your head felt light, fuzzy and borderline mushy with bliss, and as much as you wanted to beg them to ease up, it was probably fair to say you shouldn't hold your breath on that, as if you could even find the words to speak if you tried. It was sort of embarrassing how easily they managed to toy with your brain and body, to walk you right where they wanted you with a level of prowess that reminded you well just how deeply they knew you, sometimes in ways you didn't even know yourself. Eddie's calloused hands smoothed upward from your hips, rings cold on your burning skin as his touch passed slyly beneath your shirt. After so much anticipation, it felt truly divine, and you found yourself arching into him eagerly. He simply chuckled, letting his palms slide over the globes of your breasts, thumbs toying with your already hardened nipples-- he squeezed softly, eyes raking up the length of you as you squirmed.

"So pretty and soft," He whispered to himself, though the praise was not lost on you. "Our sweet little princess... if only you could behave yourself, hm?"

With a frown you sighed, "I can behave, master, I promise... m'trying to be good for you..."

"Oh, you are now, aren't you?" He teased. "Tell me what you want, baby, and maybe I'll give it to you."

A flurry of butterflies swept through your stomach, and you rutted deeper into him. "Master, please, m'so close, need to cum, please..."

"Hm... what do you think, Stevie?" Eddie asked, glancing over your shoulder to your superior. "Think she's earned it?"

The palm of Steve's hand came down softly on your shoulder, caressing the junction of your neck and shoulder with a featherlight touch that only made your body burn hotter. He hummed in thought for a moment, always a fan of dragging things out just to torture you, but surprised you with his response. "Actually, I have a better idea," He said, taking advantage of both yours and Eddie's surprise to pull you up suddenly from where you sat, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You whined pathetically at the sudden loss of stimulation, shivering as the cool air hit your soaked panties, and as Steve turned the two of you around to walk you the short distance to the bedroom, you caught sight of Eddie eyeing the considerable wet patch you'd left on the thigh of his ripped jeans before snapping out of it quickly to follow you.

As you entered the bedroom, you could hardly stop your mind from running wild pondering over what Steve's 'better idea' could possibly be. He could be very hard to read when he wanted to be, one of many devilish tools in his box. When the three of you first began seeing each other you could hardly believe that Steve had it in him, let alone in comparison to Eddie, but it would seem he was more and more determined to prove you wrong by the day.

Not that you were particularly complaining.

Steve delivered you unto the bed somewhat unceremoniously, and as you squirmed to reposition yourself upright with limited use of your hands, you looked up to be met with the sight of the two of them joined at the mouth before you. They had wasted absolutely no time going in on each other, lips colliding in a saccharine display of tongue and teeth, saliva changing hands every time they connected.

Steve playfully took hold of Eddie's bottom lip in his teeth, teasing him with the little bite to catch him off guard so he could nudge his jacket off of his tattooed shoulder. Eddie gave him a curious look but said nothing, opting instead to take it upon himself to disrobe-- slowly of course, after all he was providing a show for two-- and as the last of his clothes were discarded to the floor you were captivated by the extravagance of his naked body. Steve's sly hand travelled lower from where it began at the nape of his neck, releasing a bouncy coil of Eddie's messy hair from around his index finger as he felt over the expanse of his chest, fingertips brushing over Eddie's sensitive nipples, feeling over his soft stomach until he began following his happy trail down to where Eddie really needed him.

You and Eddie both let out a soft gasp as Steve's hand closed over Eddie's woefully hard cock, teasing him with a few lazy pumps of the hand before Steve turned to look at you, thumb rolling over the reddened, weeping head. "You said you wanted to blow him, didn't you?" Steve asked.

Your face burned at the pointed accuracy of that question-- after all, you did indeed say that-- and you nodded eagerly. "Yes, daddy, pretty please," You begged. "Want it so bad--"

"Then go ahead, sweetheart," He finally relented. "Suck your master's cock for me, like a good little whore."

He wouldn't have to tell you twice. You scrambled clumsily to your knees, scooting as closely to the edge of the bed as you could manage, heart racing with excitement, and every beat throbbed through your core. You could hardly wait to take care of him. Eddie stepped toward you at Steve's command, cradling the back of your head so lovingly as he threaded his fingers into your hair and scratched. It took a conscious effort not to start dozing off at his affection-- there was a much more important job to be done, of course. But now you were really wishing you could use your hands.

Your master shuddered at your touch as you lapped delicately at his hard cock, and as you licked a coy stripe from the base of him all the way up to the tip, he scratched your head affectionately again before he gathered your hair away from your face, holding it firmly at the base of your neck-- a favorite look of his on you, communicated all too well by the look on his face. Eddie smirked handsomely down at you, "Open wide, doll, just like I taught you."

Practically on cue your mouth fell open to receive, knuckles whitening behind your back as you took him slowly, thankful that despite your active punishment, Eddie was still forgiving enough to allow you to pace yourself in adjusting to him. With a shaky breath from your nose you sank almost all the way down, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue for one final tranquil moment before he could no longer restrain himself, his hips rutting forward to force himself deeper down your throat. Your eyes slipped shut with a muffled whimper at the force of it, suppressing a gag to the best of your ability-- he'd been teased just as much as you had, to be fair, so you could empathize with how he felt.

He soon found his rhythm, letting out a satisfied groan as he held you in place to fuck your mouth. Your head swam with lust and, well, lowered oxygen intake, concocting an oddly blissful feeling that was somewhat akin to being choked-- you moaned softly around his thick cock, becoming wetter at the intimate pleasure that was allowing him to use you as he pleased, though you could hardly believe that was possible by now. The vibration of the sound you'd made only served to spur him on, drawing a shiver from deep within him. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully.

You felt the mattress dip just behind you, and you couldn't help the way you spooked at the unexpected nature of it-- both of them chuckled at your response. Steve's familiar touch began to toy at the insides of your thighs. If your mouth weren't otherwise occupied you might have said something, but alas... He knew you were hanging on by a thread already, this was just cruel. No matter, you didn't have the option to protest this time-- you felt the ghost of his fingertips sliding upward beneath your skirt, until his palm closed around your cunt through your panties. You let out a quiet whine, inadvertently attempting to rock back into his touch, but the more you followed him, the more he pulled away.

You were met with a harsh swat to the ass, making you yip, tears threatening to fall again-- Eddie was not letting up with his bruising pace on your throat, and you were already way too sensitive. This wasn't going to be easy. Steve chided with a click of the tongue, "So greedy tonight, aren't you? Be patient, honey, and if you're good I'll let you finish."

Excited at the prospect of this, you shot him a sideways glance, eyes wide and practically spelling out, you promise?

As if he could read your mind, he rolled his eyes and smiled, "I promise, okay? Just trust me."

What other option did you have but to trust him anyway? You obediently refocused your attention to Eddie, reveling in the sight of his inked body towering over you, fucking ruthlessly into your throat, and you hummed contently, tearful lashes fluttering in awe of him. You flinched when Steve's touch returned to you again, this time tugging at the buttons at the front of your crop top, freeing your chest for them both. You whimpered in pleasure as he tugged and pinched at your nipples, forcing yourself not to arch into his touch, and it would seem this pleased him enough, as he continued to grant you his attention.

This continued for a moment until you were finally able to relax into it, to succumb to the cards you'd been dealt for now. With one hand Steve kneaded at your breast, feeling every shaking breath of yours under his palm, while the other snuck back down between your legs. You jolted when the tips of his middle and ring finger dragged over the seat of your panties, from your slick hole to your aching clit-- you moaned around Eddie's cock, making him shudder and draw his bottom lip between his teeth, a rosy blush settling over his skin. Still, Steve continued.

He rubbed gentle circles over your clit through your panties, careful to give you just enough to reignite your arousal and nothing more, as if he were testing to see whether you'd break his rules-- you didn't, though your legs were starting to get a bit shaky.

"Fuck, princess, love fuckin' your mouth," Eddie moaned, pace stuttering just for a moment as he lost himself in the feeling, but he was quick to find his composure again. He let out a breathy chuckle. "Feels like a fuckin' dream."

You hardly had time to revel in how hot that was before Steve pushed your panties aside and sank a finger inside you. You keened beneath his ministrations, gagging briefly over Eddie's cock as you sucked in a breath the wrong way-- Steve laughed, letting his forehead fall forward to rest on your shoulder, teeth nipping at your skin. He replied to Eddie, "You should feel her pussy right now. So fucking wet."

You fought against every instinct in your body to keep still, tears dripping freely down your face. Steve quickly found that soft spot within you and withdrew his finger, only to return with another one at a measured pace. You let out a muffled sob, eyes rolling back in bliss as electricity rolled over your body in waves. Eddie's thrusts began to slow gradually, chest rising and falling with unequal breaths as he pulled himself from your lips, allowing his hot seed to spill out in thick ropes over your chest with a final few strokes of the hand.

Now that he wasn't holding on to you, however, it became immediately apparent how much you had been depending on him in your attempt to follow Steve's directions. You wobbled pathetically, cock drunk and boneless beneath Steve's skilled hands, and you were lucky that Eddie was quick to catch you as you fell forward.

"Aww, look at you," He mused, catching his breath, petting your hair as he held you to his chest. "You still with us, sweetheart?"

You nodded lazily, arms squirming in your cuffs. Your wrists were starting to burn where the metal bit into you, but you were nervous to ask if they would take them off-- you had gotten so far with Steve by now that you really didn't want to ruin it, especially with such a promised reward for good behavior. But, then it occurred to you--

Eddie, on the other hand, is much easier to convince.

Tilting your head just enough to gaze up at him through your lashes, you tugged at your cuffs again and sighed softly, "I wann'em off, master," quietly enough that you hoped Steve wouldn't notice.

But of course he did. He used his free hand to tug at them right back, regaining your attention as he continued to pump in and out of you. "What do you say when you want something, (Y/N)?"

Dejectedly, you hung your head and mumbled, "Please."

"That's right. Good girl," He praised, reaching into his back pocket to hand the key to Eddie. "I expect you to be on your best behavior once we take these off."

You nodded with an excited grin, "I'll be good, daddy, I promise."

Eddie scratched your head softly before letting go just long enough to unlock the cuffs, a freedom which felt divine now-- you quickly rid yourself of your open shirt, then your sore arms sealed around Eddie's waist like a magnet, and you peppered his tummy with soft kisses both as a thank you, and in pure adoration. Steve was ushering you nearer and nearer to the edge again, so you were grateful for the stability. Your heart hammered beneath your sticky chest as your peak drew closer.

It certainly was tempting to just let it happen, though you felt a responsibility to respect your dues. Shyly, you whimpered, "Daddy, I'm so close... please let me cum, please..."

"Aren't you a quick learner?" He teased, brushing a finger over your clit. "I guess you've earned it."

Your heart swelled instantaneously, your core burning white hot as the evening's worth of pent up frustration finally paid off-- your entire body shook as your high washed over you, and you gushed over his thick fingers with a sinful cry. He was sure to drag it out a bit, of course, pumping his fingers slowly just a few more times to get a rise out of you, and then he pulled them out.

You slumped into Eddie's chest, catching your breath, and he rubbed your back softly for a moment before taking you by the shoulders to lay you properly down on the bed. Taking note of your exhaustion they began to shower your face and body in feather light kisses, attentive hands caressing and massaging and loving. You felt so precious, so special, you couldn't help but melt into their affection. Steve smooched your shoulder, teasing you with a soft bite to your dewy skin, one hand kneading your breast and the other palming your cheek. His eyes fell to yours, and you were taken again. "Aren't you a pretty little thing, hm?" His thumb brushed over your nipple and you shivered, taking your lip between your teeth. "We should get you some pearls."

You nodded into his palm, doe eyes hooked on his, shivering as Eddie's lovely tongue slid across your breast, savoring a drop of his own cum. They were truly unbelievable. Steve stood to finally undress himself, while Eddie, distractible as he is, settled on his stomach between your legs and found himself wandering your trembling body with his mouth. He started with your breasts, of course, careful not to deface any more of his art with his inkling to taste, instead focusing his attention on your nipples. Taking advantage of your freed hands, you threaded your fingers into his hair and basked in the feeling-- he sucked and swirled his tongue over the sensitive buds before traipsing lower, dusting your ribs and tummy with featherlight kisses, passing over your most ticklish spots with his lashes.

He made his way down to your hips, dragging your skirt down along with him, peppering you with smooches and little bites before gazing up at you with his handsome puppy eyes, "Lemme return the favor, baby, please?"

You shuddered-- there was absolutely no way you could say no to that face, and he knew it. You nodded with a soft giggle, granting him your permission.

Eddie's eyes lit up with excitement, and his broad hands slid down to your thighs to nudge them up over his shoulders. His teasing continued only briefly to your inner thighs, only until he'd left you an adequate number of stinging little marks to admire later, before he succumbed to his own need. His tongue slipped teasingly inside you before trailing upward to flick at your clit, and you drew in a sharp gasp, yanking at his thick hair. The motion only seemed to encourage him.

He dragged the flat of his tongue all the way up, teasing you with a quick swirl over your aching jewel before he steadied his grip on your thighs, locking you in place so that he could truly devour you. He moaned with satisfaction, presumably at the taste of your arousal, and the vibration of his deep voice resulted in a sinful whine of your own. You rocked your hips into him in an attempt to chase the feeling, shuddering deeply with every bump of his nose against your overstimulated clit. You felt Eddie jump a bit, and you peeked your hazy eyes open to catch the sight of Steve, newly naked, taking his place at the end of the bed, just behind Eddie. His strong hands had come down to caress Eddie's back as a gentle way to alert him of his presence there-- Eddie tensed just for a moment, suckling your jewel up into his mouth before he relaxed into Steve's touch, tongue fluttering against you.

You watched in awe as Steve kneaded tenderly at Eddie's flesh with one hand, stroking himself with the other, his cock hard and drooling with precum. With a shaking breath, he let go of himself to take hold of Eddie's hips, a lock of hair falling in front of his pretty face. You're not entirely sure you were breathing.

Eddie recaptured your attention as his fingers traced lightly up the length of your thighs, careful not to catch you off guard, which was sweet of him. He drew his fingertips through your folds, slicking himself with your wetness before pushing two slowly inside. After all, he was well aware of your sensitivity, and you got the feeling he wanted to drag this out a bit. He brought his face into you again to lap at your swollen clit, and you quivered, thighs closing around his head, to his apparent delight-- you could have sworn you heard him chuckle with pride.

Taking advantage of both yours and Eddie's distraction, Steve sheathed himself within Eddie at last, and the way they moaned in sync sounded just as sinful as it did heavenly. His hips stilled for a moment, allowing Eddie to adjust to his length before before he gradually began to rut into him. With every collision of their bodies, Eddie's divine mouth and hand rocked deeply into your cunt, making you cry out in pleasure.

Steve's pupils were blown wide with lust, leaving him with an expression that was absolutely carnal, and it was undoubtedly purposeful that his gaze was trained on you, like he was just waiting for you to notice. Shivers rolled over your body and you clutched Eddie's hair just a bit tighter, captivated by the complete and absolute intimacy of it all. You were experiencing such an intoxicating mixture of things, pleasure, need, electricity... your breaths were uneven and accompanied by shaky moans, your muscles tight but weak and your core burning hot with desire.

You were right to trust Steve-- he had a way of settling things in a way that worked for everyone.

Try as you might, there was no possible way you could continue to maintain eye contact with the way your lids begged to fall halfway, vision blurring with ecstasy, eyes rolling back-- but it didn't seem that Steve was worried about that right now. Through your fluttering lashes you couldn't help but admire his face. His tongue flicked out to wet his pink lips which were upturned in a proud grin, cheeks flushed while his hazy, coffee colored eyes traversed the bodies beneath him. His hair was dewy with sweat and falling in front of his face. Steve truly looked like a king.

Your mouth moved before your brain could stop it. "I-I love you, daddy."

Eddie hummed sweetly against you as Steve chuckled softly, not to make fun of you, but because it was so unexpected. That proud grin grew even wider. "I love you too, baby."

Whether he was encouraged by your statement or just chasing his own high, the pace of Steve's thrusts picked up noticeably, fingertips boring deeply into Eddie's hips as he lost himself to the feeling. Your head spun as you experienced the shockwave of it, the way Eddie groaned, his long, skilled fingers reaching so deeply inside of you that you were seeing stars. Your mouth fell open in a string of unintelligible mewls as your second orgasm of the night snuck up on you. You clutched his curly hair at the roots, thighs closing tightly around his head as he savored every last drop of your arousal like he'd been starved of it.

Eddie's lips pulled away from your throbbing clit with a soft pop, resting his cheek against your trembling thigh for brief moment of reprieve as he continued to rock back and forth at the pace of Steve's hips. You gently played with his hair, watching his big brown eyes, glazed over with pleasure, as they spaced out and focused in on nothing. If your muscles didn't feel like they were made of jelly at the moment, you might have repositioned yourself to kiss him, but would have to make do with what you could reach with your hands. You scratched his head softly, heart swelling as he leaned into your palm, and then you let your hand fall lower to brush the backs of your knuckles over his cheeks. He almost looked like he was falling asleep, until he peeked an eye up at you and chided lowly, "What, I don't get an 'I love you?'"

You rolled your eyes with a smile, laughing breathlessly at his absurdity before relenting, "I love you, almighty Dungeon Master."

He lazily nipped at your inner thigh with his teeth, his speech and breathing stilted with mind numbing pleasure as he replied in a blissed out whisper, "I love you too, dollface."

Soon Steve's chest was heaving with uneven breaths and glistening with sweat, a peachy blush settling over his dewy skin. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes fell closed and his grip on Eddie grew even tighter, hips stuttering as he neared his own end. Finally he found it within himself to pull out at the last possible second, pearly cum spilling out over Eddie's back in ribbons. Almost precisely in sync Eddie shivered, teeth sinking into your flesh as his own seed drooled out into the sheets.

Bringing a hand up to fix his hair, Steve let out a quiet chuckle as he looked over the two of you on the bed, spread out completely boneless, covered in cum with twitching legs. "Look at you two," He joked. "What a mess. I just washed the bedding."

#venustext #sintext #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #steddie smut

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vitanithepure · 8 months

Text

Gale's romance

To absolutely nobody's surprise I am back with my thoughts about Gale and I am honestly surprised how many of you still follow me and interact with what I have to say, love you all so much 😭

Again, a freaking long one (over 1200 words, I wrote fanfics shorter than this...), but I need to get it all out of my system to properly function. Of course spoilers for Gale's story and a bit of the main storyline.

First of all - his introduction. Not less of a jump-scare, but somehow this one seemed to fit him better? He doesn't come out of the portal and begin judging our capabilities, instead we help him out, and if anything - I felt an instant level of sympathy for the wizard falling face first on the ground straight out of an unstable portal.

His bashful "I'm usually better at this."? It just served to even out the field and I love it. I was literally sitting there grinning at the screen and thinking "oh, how the mighty have fallen" :D

We still get all the talks known from EA (apart from the failed spell one? Did anyone manage to trigger it? Did they remove it?), so I won't be going over them again, because there is still a lot of new stuff to go through. Although they seem to fire up differently and it makes Gale seem a lot more considerate. Sure, at first he still hides the exact reasons and I still think it's understandable. In my playthrough he brought up his orb problem on the road, in front of the others with us claiming we need to know about it.

He even leaves us the decision if we want him to stay or not, but we cherish this man in this house, so I have no idea what goes down if and how he leaves. Not really interested in learning that, too.

Him showing us the Weave was as wonderful as it used to, didn't notice any changes here, then again - why change something that just…works? And now, in hindsight, I cannot help but see how it sets the tone for the whole relationship with him, be it romantic or otherwise. He shows you this part of him he loves, tries to show because even he, with all his eloquence, cannot find the right words to express what magic means to him.

I feel as if he was not expecting much from it, judging by the mumbling, adorable mess we made of him just imagining a walk, hand in hand. As we learn later (much later, but I think it's important to mention it here) he never considered being this close to anyone after the orb fiasco. Not because he still loves Mystra but rather he realizes how much of a risk it brings. He himself calls himself a "menace" and that, for me, speaks volumes about his character.

Ok, now onto the new parts, previously unavailable in the EA.

I mentioned my reaction after the first talk with Elminster in another post, but I'll say it again: fuck Mystra.

I was worried that there might not be a way to rid Gale of this cursed orb, I was bracing for the possibility that there might not be a happily-ever-after here. Because he seemed set on going along with Mystra's wishes, and I felt bad for standing between the man and his honest faith. Misguided, not fanatical, just honest faith.

I was thinking "yeah, this will probably happen at the end of the game, we'll cross that bridge when we get there". BUT… one moment we are fighting Kethric Thorm and the next Gale is ready to sacrifice himself. "Wait, it's too soon, it can't end like this, WHAT THE HELL is going on?"

"Fun" fact? Gale can really do it from what I saw and it just… ends the game right there and then. I am not ever going to even consider that a viable option, for anyone. It just makes me sick thinking about it in hindsight.

So yeah, no, sorry Mystra, we are not going along with your stupid plan. It really feels like he went along with it in a shell shock state through the whole act II of the story and it made me feel so bad for him. Gale felt like a complete shadow of himself since his first talk with Elminster.

Can you look me in the eye and with a straight face tell me a man ready to die makes a whole fucking illusionary world for just the two of you, shows you his home, his safe place, tells you he loves you and gives you his all? Yeah, yeah, you can tell me "he doesn't want to regret anything", but that's the point! He already regrets so much, and that means he is not ready to become vapor!

So, in the style of Meredith Grey, we go all in with "choose me" and…wow, does he ever. It was like a switch went off, Gale instantly is back to his old self, already having a plan to make it all work. A terrible idea, worthy of the 10 wisdom stat, mind you, but an idea still.

Of course in the meantime we get another visit from Elminster, who drops a few - actually good! - words of wisdom Gale's way and says Mystra wants to talk. Of-fucking-course she wants to, her pet refused to die and she can't fathom why.

I know the talk can go differently depending on what you suggest him to say, I don't know if we can skip the talk altogether and what are the consequences of that, but on my first playthrough I actually encouraged him to seek forgiveness and the talk went… fucking awful if you ask me. Is there a honest to god good way to do this talk?

Hated it when Mystra went all "oh yes, now that you are alive I'm not taking care of your orb until I send you on yet another suicide run, but don't worry - I believe in you, 'kay-thanks-bye!"

I guess this is faith for you - everything becomes a trial for it.

Moving on! The first big romance scene for act III of the story left me in emotional shambles.

In this moment Gale knows he wants to do *everything* and *anything* for us. He wants to gain power for us, to give us everything we deserve because if he gave Mystra his all he won't be holding back for us. And when we say we don't want it… you can see how absolutely devastated he is - up until he hears what we are really telling him.

"You are already everything I need you to be."

God, the animation here was so amazing, you can practically see the moment realization strikes him. He can live without Mystra, he can live without power, but he can't live without you. That he matters to someone, not for what he can do, but just… for him. And he was never loved that way, he himself says that, much to the dismay of my bleeding heart.

And that is that! Our story with Gale ends here, without a bang, but that is good. Gale is no longer the man he used to be, his ambitions now centered around a happy life with us. And I'm all giddy and teary-eyed for him.

Mind you, the ending felt…rushed? But perhaps that's just me not ready to say goodbye after all this? The game ending is a dash of adrenaline and I felt like there was just not enough time to unwind after. Guess I need to headcanon the rest ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Either way, if you managed to stay to this point - a big thank you for reading!

#gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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fixfoxnox · 11 months

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Okay, I have been thinking... What if Ghost and Anima Roach got separated for a long time (because idk, Ghost got captured by the enemy and for some reason Roach couldn't stay with him)? And because they weren't meant to be separated for a long time, Roach was FREAKING OUT and venting to Soap the whole time. Soap, who couldn't handle seeing Roach so desperate to get Ghost back (and also not-so-secretly very desperate himself), started to plan a rescue mission or something and boom.. happy ending :3

I'm lowkey craving some hurt/comfort GhostSoapRoach recently I'm sorry 😭

- 🥀

So this isn't...exactly what you asked for, but it's something that I've been thinking about for a bit and really the only way that I can see Anima Roach being "separated" from Ghost in any way. I have twisted it to give you some GhostRoachSoap hurt/comfort, but I will admit it is very heavy on the Ghost/Roach side of things.

A Year (Anima AU)

Pairings: GhostRoachSoap, GhostRoach, Ghost/OC, Roach/OC (yes please welcome two new OC's to Luke's extended universe lol)

Warnings: Angst, Slight nsfw, discussion of nsfw hurt/comfort, slight suicidal ideation/thoughts

They were arguing. It was quite possibly the first time that Soap had seen them argue. He didn't like it in the slightest.

Roach was always smiling or giving some sort of mischievous grin. It was just who he was. The only time that Soap had seen him not smiling was when Ghost was injured, the first time he'd seen him. Every time he was blessed with the sight of the Anima after that, he'd always been wearing a grin. Roach wasn't smiling now. His lips weren't even quirked up a bit, his face was serious.

Ghost looked angrier than Soap had ever seen him. His face was stormy and he'd been laying into Roach since they'd gotten back from their last mission. Soap understood why. He also understood Roach's side of things. He couldn't get a word in between the two men to try to help solve the issue.

"You shouldn't have gone ahead," Ghost hissed out. He ripped his mask off of his face and turned back to face Roach with gritted teeth. The black of his grease paint was faded from the mask and had spread in little streaks across his cheeks. Still, Soap could see how red his face was. "You could have given our position away!"

"No one could see me but you," Roach reminded Ghost with a hiss, "I was checking ahead, that's all! Nothing happened!"

"Nothing happened," Ghost scoffed, "Soap was nearly shot!" He motioned in Soap's direction and Soap wanted to point out that it wasn't true. Sure, he'd been seen because Roach had opened the wrong door at the wrong time, but he'd been able to dispatch the man before anything bad happened.

"Soap was and is fine," Roach stepped forward with a growl and pressed his finger to Ghost's chest, "You were fine. I was making sure that it would stay that way."

"You should have listened to me," Ghost countered, "I was leading the mission." Roach scoffed at the words and Soap could see the way that Ghost clenched his jaw in response.

"My job isn't to follow you," Roach crossed his arms over his chest, "That isn't why I was there. I was doing my job."

"Well," Ghost snapped, "I wish you wouldn't. My life would be much easier if you weren't running around trying to do your job and getting in my way."

The effect was instant. Roach reeled back at the words, his face crumpled and Soap could see the beginnings of tears gathering in his eyes. Ghost's reaction was just as quick, regret spreading across his face only moments after the words left his mouth. There was a moment where the two just stared at each other silently. Soap tried to find the words to help, but he found his own shock and horror seemed to sew his mouth shut.

"Roach," Ghost's voice was weak. He took a step toward Roach and Roach took a step away from him. "I didn't-"

Roach disappeared from Soap's sight and the only indication that he got of the Anima leaving the room was Ghost rushing to the door, calling out his name in a desperate voice several times. Ghost didn't leave the room, he just collapsed against the door frame. His grip on the wood was hard and he seemed to shrink in on himself, one of his hands came up to cover his face.

"Ghost," Soap stepped forward carefully, his own voice soft, careful. He didn't know quite how to approach the man at the moment, but he was determined to try.

"I can't," Ghost's voice was shaky and he took in several desperate gasps for air, his entire body keeling over, "I did it again. I can't believe I did it again. I didn't- I didn't mean-"

"Again?" Soap reached out, slowly placing a hand on Ghost's back to rub soothing circles against him, concern eating at his chest. He'd never seen Ghost this stressed. "Ghost, what do you mean, again?"

"You're overbearing and annoying and overprotective!"

"I'm doing my job!" Roach hissed, his hands slamming onto the table in front of him hard. "My job is to protect you!"

"What if I don't want that?" Ghost hissed back, his hands balled into tight fists at his side. "I've made the decision, whether you like it or not!"

"Don't you understand how dangerous joining the military is!" Roach reached up to tug at his hair, frustration eating at him. So much could go wrong if Ghost went into the military. There were so many ways for him to be hurt. So many things that Roach wouldn't be able to properly prepare for. "Are you trying to make my life difficult!"

"Are you trying to make mine difficult?" Ghost snapped, his face going a deep red color. Before Roach could respond Ghost was speaking again. "I've never had a break from you! You're always hanging over my shoulder and making decisions for me to try to protect me! Well, guess what? I don't want you to protect me! I don't even want you around half the time!"

Roach's heart jumped up to his throat and it felt as though a terrible weight slammed into his chest, taking his air away. "Ghost," he choked out, his eyes stinging with tears already.

"My life would be a million times better if you weren't in it!"

Silence settled around the room. It hung over them thickly and neither of them spoke for several moments, the words just hanging between them. Roach was fighting back the desire to cry, a hand covering his mouth to keep any sobs that threatened to escape inside. Ghost still looked angry, his jaw clenched tight. He wouldn't meet Roach's eyes. He wouldn't even look at him.

"If that's," Roach took in a shaky breath, "If that's what you think."

"It is," Ghost confirmed, his fists clenching at his sides.

Roach was Ghost's anima. That was the bottom line of things. He was made with the sole purpose of protecting Ghost. Of keeping Ghost happy and healthy. That was his job. That was what he would do, it was what he had to do. If leaving is what it took to make Ghost happy, then that was what he would do.

Roach didn't say another word. He rarely ever changed himself. He rarely ever made himself invisible to anyone but Ghost. He'd never had a reason to, Ghost's family had always treated him like he was one of them. Not like he was some sort of creature, but like he was a person. Now, though, now he made himself disappear.

Ghost wanted a life without him. Roach couldn't provide that, but he could make himself virtually as invisible as possible. To anyone else, Ghost would be normal. Roach would allow him that.

He quietly slipped away, leaving the kitchen to make his way out of the backdoor of the house. He took a moment when he was outside, leaning up against the small house as he choked on his own tears. The air ripped from his lungs as sobs pulled at him. He didn't need to breathe, but it still wasn't comfortable to go so long with no air.

He pushed past it. He pushed past it all. Quietly, as tears continued streaming down his face, he tried to evaluate where the best place to go would be. He needed somewhere close, somewhere where he could still watch Ghost, could still watch the house, but far enough away that he could stay out of sight and out of mind.

He landed on the old treehouse in the backyard. It was a rickety old thing and, if he made himself present, there was no doubt it wouldn't be able to hold his weight. If he stayed invisible though, if he stayed as essentially a spirit to everyone but Ghost, it wouldn't even move an inch. It would be like he didn't even exist. That was what Ghost wanted. That was what he would do.

Roach hated basic training. He fucking hated it. He hated the military. He wanted to hate Ghost. He couldn't. He could never hate Ghost.

But weeks upon weeks of watching Ghost be whipped into a soldier, be trained into something dangerous and fierce, it was hard for him. There were injuries, there were times when he wanted to step in and smash the face of some army officer in, there were times when he just wanted to drop to his knees and beg Simon to quit. To just go home. He never did.

He stayed back. He stayed out of sight. He just watched. He just watched Ghost turn himself into someone stronger and more skilled. He just watched him excel in nearly every class and training exercise. He watched and he knew that Ghost needed him that much less.

Of course, he learned as well. Any opportunity to pick up more skills, any opportunity to learn things that would help him protect Ghost and he would do it. He would watch during the day then, at night, when everyone was asleep, he'd practice things himself.

He hated it. He hated all of it. Most of all, he hated that Ghost seemed happy. He hated how content Ghost was while he wasn't around. He hated the way that the other recruits made him laugh. He hated the way that Ghost hadn't looked at him in months. He hated it. He wanted to rip himself out of existence, to tear and destroy the strings connecting him to Ghost. Ghost was happier without him, he saw that he was doomed to know it for the rest of his existence. His existence was a burden on Ghost and he could do nothing about it. How was he supposed to make Ghost truly happy when he was the thing causing that unhappiness?

It was worse to feel. Seeing Ghost being happy and content was one thing, but feeling it was something else entirely. It had never been clearer to him before which emotions belonged to Ghost and which belonged to him. Ghost's were happy, light, strong. His were like a weight trying to bash that to pieces. Trying to create dust of any of the positivity he was forced to feel so that it could float away from him, carried by the wind. Roach wanted peace. He wanted to disappear for Ghost's sake. He couldn't.

Worse than basic training was clearly the squad that Ghost was placed on. Roach hated how much they liked Ghost. He hated how much Ghost liked them. He hated one member of the squad, in particular, more than anyone else.

"It isn't healthy for you to sit out here like this." A shaggy blonde-haired man slid down the wall, sitting next to Roach. Roach knew the other man was feeling exactly what he was at the moment, he hid it much better than him.

"Ash," he acknowledged, turning his head to watch the other Anima light a cigarette between his fingers and bring it to his mouth. Roach knew the smoke wasn't going to be a problem. There was quiet between the two as Ash took a long drag from the cigarette before holding it out for Roach. Roach took it from him gratefully.

"Seriously," Ash blew the smoke from his lungs, his eyes carefully watching Roach as he took a drag from the cigarette. It wouldn't hurt either of them, so there was no harm in smoking. At least, that's what Roach told himself. "You shouldn't sit out here like this."

"I'm waiting for Simon," Roach passed the cigarette back to him and folded his hands over his knees, picking at his nails. "That's all. Just doing what I'm supposed to."

Ash gave a low chuckle at those words, "Yeah, just protecting the guy who doesn't even want you around." Roach flinched at those words and tucked into himself further. He refused to meet the other's careful eyes. "Simon will be fine, you know that. Just pick up watching him in the morning." He moved closer to him, shuffling until their legs were pressed tight together, "Don't make yourself sit here."

There was a pause. Roach wanted to listen to him. He wanted to go as far away from the room as he could, to be so far away that he wouldn't be able to feel everything that Ghost was. All of the emotions. Everything. He knew it wasn't possible. He had to stay. It was his job, that was it.

The door beside them opened and two laughing figures stumbled out, straightening their clothing. Roach didn't look at them, he didn't think he could stomach it.

"Ash! What are you doing out here?"

"Sorry," Ash gave a grin up to his bonded, "Just sitting with Roach for a minute. All good?"

"All good," Todd, Ash's bonded, confirmed. "Simon and I are all good. We took care of each other." The words seemed directed at Roach more than Ash and Roach glared down at his pants. His fists tightened into balls against them.

Ghost didn't acknowledge him, "Let's go get something to eat, I'm fucking starving."

"Oh, right," Todd turned back toward them, "You two keep doing whatever, we're going for food."

They set off down the hallway together. Roach gave them a moment, allowing them to get a decent distance away before standing up to follow. Ash stayed seated on the ground, just watching him.

No words were spoken until Roach had started after the two men, until he was only a few feet away. "You have to stop doing this to yourself." Roach paused, freezing for several moments, "You and I both know that you'll just end up killing yourself."

Roach glanced back at Ash for a brief moment and took in how serious his face was. He turned away and didn't say anything else before taking off after Ghost and his...paramour. The implication of the action stood between the two Anima, though. They both knew what Roach's response was to the idea of his death: good.

"I'm not letting you do this."

Roach looked up at Ash, his vision feeling a bit hazy. He was tired, which was a first for him, though he considered it a good sign. "You don't really get to decide that," he replied lazily. He tucked into himself further, still leaning up against the wall next to the door. Waiting for Ghost.

Ash rolled his eyes at him. "Stand up," he ordered, his face serious. There was a moment of silence between the two. Roach didn't move. "I'm serious Roach, I'm not letting you do this. Stand up."

There was another long moment that passed between the two before Ash sighed and stepped forward, hauling Roach up from the ground easily. Roach struggled slightly against his hold, fighting to be dropped back down to the ground. Ash wouldn't let him and, seeing as they were both Anima, it wasn't easy for Roach to break out of the sudden hold.

He found himself pinned back against the wall with Ash's body pressed tight to his, keeping him from struggling. "Ash," Roach met his eyes with a stern look, "I have to stay focused, let me down."

"Staying focused," Ash pushed even closer to him, "Is what is going to get you killed. I'm going to distract you. I'm going to give you a break from worrying about Simon."

Roach snorted, "Yeah, good luck with that. What's your plan? Hold me here until-"

Ash slammed his mouth against Roach's, cutting off his words and catching him completely by surprise. The other Anima didn't give him a moment to think before licking into his mouth and nipping at his lips. One of his legs shoved between Roach's his knee pressed just slightly against his crotch to give the slightest bit of pressure.

Roach, surprisingly, relaxed against his touch. He and Ash knew one another, they'd been in the same boat since their bonded had been transferred to their current squad. They understood each other probably better than even their bonded ones knew them. It was an odd thing to think, but it was the truth. And, as Roach wrapped his arms around Ash's shoulders and pulled him further into the kiss, he thought that it was nice to be wanted again, in whatever way that meant.

The kiss was harsh and biting and filled with all of the frustration that had been building within the two for the months and months that they'd been cast to the side. They took out their frustration on one another, biting and nipping and tugging at their hair until the other was groaning and pressing even closer. They were desperate to feel, desperate to distract themselves and they were doing a damn good job at it.

"Ash! What the hell?"

Roach and Ash broke apart from one another, their heads turning quickly to meet the eyes of their humans. They just stared blankly at them for several moments, their minds running circles.

Roach let his eyes trail over to Ghost and, for the first time in months, the two locked eyes with one another. Ghost looked...hurt? That wasn't right though, he wouldn't look hurt by this. Roach reminded himself quickly that Ghost didn't want him around. He reminded himself how happy Ghost had been for the past several months without him.

He shoved down the rising anxiety and upset in his chest. What sense did that make? Ghost would cut him off then feel upset when he finally did something other than follow him around silently? It didn't make a lick of sense, so Roach pushed it down. Ghost was probably just embarrassed that Roach had been doing something like this in such a public area. Not that it mattered, no one could see him or the man pressed against him.

"Are the two of you going for food?" Ash's breath was heavy as he spoke, but he still managed to get the words out.

"Probably," Todd responded by crossing his arms over his chest, "But what the fuck are the two of you doing? Don't you know-"

"Great," Ash pushed off of the wall and wrapped an arm around Roach to tug him with him, "You two enjoy your food. We're going to take over your room for a bit."

"What?!" Todd's face went a bright red as Ash shoved past him, pulling Roach along behind him.

Ash shoved Roach toward the bed in the room before turning back to the door and the men on the other side, "You may want to stay in Simon's room tonight, we're going to be a minute." With that he shut the door in their faces, muffling any noises from the two men out in the hallway and leaving himself and Roach blissfully alone.

"You seem uncomfortable," Ash looked down at him, his eyes scanning across his face carefully. Roach shifted again, trying to resist the urge to just fully hide his face in the other's shoulder. "What's going on?"

Roach sighed and peeked away from him again, his eyes immediately catching on to Ghost's from across the long training yard. He looked away quickly. "Simon keeps looking at me," he whispered the words, as though he was afraid to speak them out loud. "And, he hesitated for a moment, his hand raising to his chest, "He's been feeling different."

"Different how?" Ash tucked him closer to his side, one of his hands coming up to rub soothingly across his arm.

"Like...sad," He tilted his head a bit, "Regret too? I don't know it's like...similar to before but, he just feels more upset."

"You're having trouble separating his feelings from your own, aren't you?" Ash didn't speak the words in a judging manner, he didn't seem smug or upset about the fact. He seemed like he understood. Roach nodded to him slowly, tucking closer to his side.

He hated it. He'd been so sure that Ghost was happy without him around, he'd been so sure of it. And yet, now, when he could tell that Ghost was upset...it felt like things had only slightly changed. "I just...I don't know what to do."

There was a silence that hung between them for several moments, Roach couldn't tell what Ash was thinking. "You could try talking to him," Ash suggested quietly, his eyes focusing on Roach's face, watching for his reaction. It was apparently quite obvious based on the amused glint in his eyes. "I'm serious. You two haven't actually talked in, what? Over a year? Maybe it's time that you try to talk with him again."

Roach jerked away from him at the words, blinking with wide eyes at the suggestion. "What? No, no way. He said-"

"A year ago in the middle of an argument he told you that his life would be better if you weren't in it," Ash finished for him, watching his face with close eyes, "Maybe now that he's lived a year without you in it he's reconsidered." He paused for a long moment, just watching Roach's shocked face closely. "What's the worst he could do," he reached up to brush a bit of Roach's hair out of his face sweetly, "Confirm what you think you know? At least you'll have tried and," he hesitated for a long moment, "I'll even do the same."

"What?"

Ash shrugged and Roach could see him swallow nervously, "I'll talk to Todd if you talk to Simon. If, well, if things don't work out then I say that the two of us leave."

"Leave?" Roach blinked wide at him.

"If they decide they don't want us here? Why should we stay? Why shouldn't we go live our lives somewhere?"

"Can," Roach hesitated for a moment. He didn't know how he felt about what Ash was suggesting. Not being wanted was one thing, but could Roach actually be able to leave Ghost? Whether Ghost wanted him around or not, Roach loved him. He didn't want to give him up, even if Ghost wanted to give him up. "Can we even do that?"

"I've heard of other Anima who have," Ash spoke quietly, "When they were rejected by their bonded."

The two were silent for another long moment and, even without saying it, Roach could see that both of them were unsure about what Ash had suggested. Still, Roach reasoned, there would be no harm in at least talking to Ghost. Like Ash said, the worst that could happen is that Ghost would tell him he didn't want him around anymore again.

"Okay," he spoke quietly and Ash seemed to relax at his words, "I'll talk to Simon."

Roach waited until Ghost was alone. He was in his room cleaning a few things up and Roach had stood by the door for nearly thirty minutes, trying to work up the courage to actually go inside. He just had to step inside. That was it.

Still, actually moving inside of the room was possibly the hardest thing that Roach had done in his existence. When he finally did, he was quick.

He opened the door, stepped inside, and turned quickly to shut the door behind him. He just stared at the wood for several moments, terrified of turning around to meet Simon's gaze. He was too afraid of the hatred that he'd find there. The anger.

"Roach?"

He turned quickly at the call of his name, his eyes wide from having been acknowledged. Roach couldn't figure out how to get his voice to work. The words were right there at the back of his tongue, trying to leave his throat and failing.

"What are you doing here?" Ghost dropped the sheets he was pulling at and started around his bed. He only stopped when he was almost directly in front of Roach, standing only a few feet away from him.

They stared at one another for several moments. "I," Roach took in a shaky breath and leaned back against the door for support, needing something to help keep his knees from collapsing under his weight. "I came to talk to you."

"To talk?" Ghost asked quietly.

"To ask," Roach corrected himself, "To see if...if you're still sure about what you said. About not wanting me around. I know that you've been happy without me around and more than anything I just want you to be happy," it was like once the words started, he couldn't get them to stop. "But I had to check, I had to know because lately I feel like something has been different and I couldn't not ask. I just care about you so much and I don't think you understand how important you are to me, so if there was any possibility that you wanted me around again I had-"

Ghost stepped forward to place a hand over Roach's mouth, silencing him both physically and mentally thanks to the sudden proximity. There was silence between them for several moments, both of them just staring at the other. Finally, Ghost spoke.

"Roach," his voice was soft and it sounded weak to Roach's ears, "I am so sorry." He moved his hand away from Roach's mouth, leaving him gaping at the words. That was the last thing he'd expected to hear.

"You? You're sorry?"

Ghost nodded his head slowly, "I was angry. I didn't mean what I said, I swear I never meant it. I just," he looked away from Roach and Roach could feel the shame from Ghost blossoming in his chest, "I wanted to hurt you I guess. I didn't..."

"You didn't think I'd actually leave," Roach pieced together quietly.

"I was too afraid to tell you," Ghost moved carefully, as though he was afraid of scaring Roach off. His hand ever so slowly made contact with Roach's face, cupping at his cheek. Roach couldn't stop from leaning into the touch, "I was sure that you hated me."

"I could never hate you," Roach was quick to the words. They were the truth. He didn't think it was possible for him to hate Ghost, it just wasn't something he was capable of. "I thought you hated me."

"No," Ghost stepped closer to him, "I could never hate you. I need to make this up to you, please let me make it up to you?"

Roach nodded his head slowly, still nuzzling into Ghost's hand. His entire body felt warm at the contact and his ears were tingling with the sound of Ghost's voice speaking to him! Actually talking to him! He could have vibrated with the excitement of the entire situation. Ghost didn't hate him. Ghost wanted him in his life. "Just," Roach looked up at Ghost with wide eyes, "Please don't say anything like that to me again and...if you do," he looked away from Ghost briefly, "don't let us go so long without talking about it. I don't think I can survive another year like this one."

Ghost nodded his head and, in one quick move, he tugged Roach against his chest. Roach tucked himself close to Ghost and gave a contented sigh as he was tucked against the other's chest carefully. "I really missed you," Ghost whispered against his hair. There was a moment and Roach could feel him hesitating, he could feel that there was something else the man wanted to say. "You," he cleared his throat nervously, "You and Ash, are you?"

Roach understood immediately what Ghost was asking and he almost scoffed at the man. That was his question? What did it matter, especially now? After all, Ghost had Todd. "I don't know, are you and Todd?"

"No."

Roach shot back, pulling away from Ghost to look up at him with wide eyes, shock running through him. "What?"

"I broke things off," Ghost admitted nervously. There was a quiet moment before he shyly added, "For you."

Roach stared at him silently, unsure of how to respond. Ghost had broken things off...for him? Why would he have done that? Sure, Roach didn't like Todd, but that shouldn't have-

Suddenly things clicked for him. All of the emotions he'd been feeling over the past few weeks, over the time that he and Ash had started their little affair, it all suddenly made sense to him. He didn't have the context. He had the context now. Jealousy.

He stared at Ghost for several long moments, just trying to make sure that he was reading the other man's face correctly. When he'd determined that, yes, he was reading the situation correctly, it was quite an easy choice of what to do from there.

His hands pressed hard to Ghost's chest, shoving him backward until his knees hit the edge of the bed and all it took was another good shove to knock him onto his back with a small groan from his lips. Roach didn't give him a moment to recover, he just climbed onto his lap with a grin on his face.

"Roach," Ghost's voice was a bit higher than normal and there was a high blush rising on his cheeks.

"You wanted to make it up to me, right?" He put his hands on Ghost's chest and used the leverage to grind his hips down. The effect was immediate with Ghost's hands flying to his hips and his head tilting backward with a gasp. Roach gave him another grin."How about, to make it up to me," he ground his hips down again, "You let me ride your cock?"

The answer from Ghost was almost instantaneous, "Fuck yes."

"You went an entire year without talking?" Soap's voice was filled with horror. He'd never even realized that such a thing was possible for Anima and their bonded. He thought they always stuck together, that nothing like that could ever happen because of the bond. He supposed he didn't know as much as he thought he did.

"Yes," Ghost rubbed at his face and stood from his seat. He snatched his mask into his hands and took to shoving it over his tear-stained face. Speaking with Soap about his past, about that year, and those words that he always knew he would regret and feel guilty over...it made him realize that he couldn't do it again. He had to find Roach. "I can't let that happen again," he turned to Soap, "I have to go find Roach."

"Let me help?" Soap stood from his seat as well, his eyes wide, "It might be easier with two people and, it will probably help both of you to have someone else around." He leaned forward a bit, trying to hint to Ghost that he was offering his presence to try and comfort the two men. Ghost seemed to get what he was saying a shot him an appreciative look.

"Thanks, Johnny." With that, the two men left the room, trying to track down their missing boyfriend.

"Roach," Soap called carefully. He couldn't see Roach, but he had a pretty good idea of where the other man was. He'd learned fairly quickly into dating both Ghost and Roach that, when Roach wanted to be alone, he tended to move into dark quiet spaces. That was exactly why Soap had gone almost immediately to one of the record rooms on base.

No one ever really came in, no one would be able to bother Roach. It was the perfect space for when he needed to get away. He called out for the man again, desperate for any sign of him. Just as he was sure that this wasn't the right room, or at least that he would need Ghost to be able to properly check it, he felt a pair of arms wrap him up from behind.

A face buried itself against his neck and he could feel and hear Roach's quiet cries. "Roach," Soap's voice was quiet and he was quick to turn around in the man's hold to wrap him up in his arms. He stayed silent for several moments, just holding tight to him, trying to provide as much comfort as he could. "Ghost is looking for you," he finally whispered.

Roach choked a bit on his cries and held tighter to Soap, "He's? He's looking for me?" It was as though he didn't believe what Soap was saying and, based on what Ghost had told him, Soap could understand why.

"Yes," Soap pressed a kiss to the side of Roach's head, "he wants to apologize. He didn't mean what he said and he's very upset with himself." He paused for a moment before adding, "He was crying."

He figured that Roach could have guessed that, considering he could feel Ghost's emotions alongside his own, but he also knew that Roach sometimes had trouble reading the emotions that he could feel from Ghost, so he decided it would be better to tell him rather than just leaving it up in the air.

Roach took a moment to respond, just burying his face into Soap's shoulder harder. "Can we go to the room?" he asked after a moment, still wrapped tight in Soap's arms.

"Of course," Soap hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you want me to tell Ghost?" Roach hesitated for another long moment before giving a slight nod of his head against Soap's shoulder. "Okay," Soap wrapped an arm around Roach and started guiding him to the door all while pulling his phone from his pocket to shoot a quick text to Ghost, "C'mon, let's get you back to the room."

Ghost was waiting for them when they finally made it back into the room. It was clear to see how nervous he was by the way that he shot to his feet as soon as the door opened.

His eyes landed on Roach almost immediately, watching him with wide and apologetic eyes as he froze in the doorway to the room. There was silence for several moments and, despite Soap's desire to encourage the two to talk, he stayed silent and let them work at their own pace.

"Roach," Ghost choked out after a moment. His face was twisted up into a picture of regret and Soap could see how glassy his eyes were. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I swear to god I didn't mean it like that. I shouldn't have said it in the first place I was just worried and angry. I know it doesn't justify it." He paused for another moment before taking a step closer to Roach. Roach watched him carefully, his own face a mess of red and tear stains. "I'm sorry."

After a long moment, Roach took a few shuffled steps forward and buried his face in Ghost's chest, tears streaming down his face again. "I don't like it when we argue." He grabbed tight to Ghost's shirt, using it as a safety blanket of sorts.

"I don't either," Ghost responded by wrapping him up in his arms and cradling him tight against his body. After several moments, he lifted Roach into his arms and turned toward the bed. Roach didn't even react, he just stayed with his face buried against Ghost's chest.

Soap reacted quickly to the questioning look that Ghost sent his way, understanding almost immediately what the man wanted. He moved across the room in quick strides and threw himself down onto the bed, happily wrapping his arms around Roach and Ghost when they settled next to him on the bed.

They lay together silently for some time, Roach just quietly pressed between them. There were clearly things that would have to be handled, more discussion to have, and more apologies to be made, but for now, they just laid together.

"I'm sorry you had to see us fight, Soap," Roach threw out after a long moment of silence.

"It's fine, Bug." Soap assured him, "I'm sure we'll fight at some point. It's just part of life, unfortunately."

"I hate fighting," Roach's voice told Soap that he was pouting and he couldn't help but chuckle. Even like this Roach was still his same old self. "There's only one thing fighting's good for."

"And what's that?" Ghost asked, sending Soap an amused look over Roach's shoulder.

Roach slowly unburied his face from Ghost's chest to shoot both of the men a bright grin, "Makeup sex."

Soap couldn't help but laugh.

#gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #ghostroach #ghostroachsoap #call of duty fanfic #anima au #cod mw2 fanfic

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