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bluesidez · 2 days

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GymRat!Miguel Part 9.1 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: lots of music links, ROADTRIP!!, some hurt/comfort at the beginning, a damn near comedy if I must say so myself, Spanish parts (if wrong, please correct me), lots of fluff, Buc-ee's shenanigans (I love that store), Miguel drives a Range Rover (hot, I know. Tyler got that MUNYUN), some jealous Miguel (MY FAVORITE), a hint of jealous reader 🫨 (she has a storm coming lol), simp Miguel if I'm being honest, 18+ so MNDI, male masturbation, wet wet fantasies, both reader and Miguel are h word for each other

word count: 7.1k, damn near proofread (this is only one part of the behemoth)

I did some research on MLE, yachts, superyachts, dolphins, and water activities for this chapter. 🤠 Hopefully, it shows! The yacht size I imagined is somewhere in between a regular yacht and a superyacht/megayacht. I built a Range Rover just for GR!Miguel you guys. (thanks to my irl besties and @slushycoookie once again 🥰)

Prev | Next (Part 9.2) ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who comes back home after nearly a week of bliss with you. He floated all the way home from dropping you off with Tyler’s people.

He made them wait much longer than they needed to when he decided to makeout with you next to the black Suburban.

Only a few more weeks before he could see you again.

GymRat!Miguel who is met with his mom sitting on the couch with just the tv glowing on her.

His steps were too heavy to sneak past her, so he just sighed and settled down on one of the plush chairs.

“I see you’re home,” she says. Her eyes don’t move from the Golden Girls episode playing softly.

“Sí, mamá.”

“How come you didn’t tell me where you went?”

“Gabriel told you where I was. I’m sure you asked him.” Miguel was tired already.

“He did, pero eso no fue lo que te pregunté.” (but that’s not what I asked you)

“Ma-”

“Mijo.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“And you’ve sat so far away. Like I’m going to hurt you. Miguel, I asked you to come home. You didn’t respond. You didn’t call. You didn’t even speak to me when you came back a few days ago.”

Miguel stared at her face, willing himself not to get emotional over this.

“I acknowledge that I should have let you know where I was. I didn’t talk to you because I didn’t want to say something I would regret.”

Conchata finally turned to look at Miguel. Her first-born. The life given to her after so much turmoil.

She could still see the little boy that would cry at the drop of a hat. She could still see the little boy that would dry up his tears if Gabriel started to cry with him, just to comfort him. The little boy with so much room in his heart.

She can see him now, face ridden with sadness. A face that she knew too well.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, mijo.”

“Well, you did. Again. I’m used to it. This isn’t a new feeling. What is new, is you acting like this towards someone else close to me.”

“I-”

“Let me finish, ma, please. You’ve never been a parent that cares about how I’ve felt in regards to anything. You have made decisions for me without a second thought without ever considering how I might feel. You’ve also never been the type of person who hurts someone else for no reason. I’m sorry I’m not with someone you picked, but I’m not sorry for loving her. She is everything to me. If I were to fall, there’s no doubt in my mind that she would be there to build me back up. She’d probably even break my fall if I couldn’t stop her.”

Miguel stopped to look up, willing himself not to cry.

“What you said to her brought something out that she hasn’t felt in a while. You broke her in a way that I promised myself I never would. I wanted to present her to my family in a positive light, to show her off. I didn’t expect you to be ecstatic about her, but I did hope that you could at least open your heart up once you met her.”

He looked off, tears escaping from his eyes. You’re in a better position now, but he won’t know if that donner will creep back up on you, making you hate yourself for something that’s not your fault. He remembered the pain in your voice, how kept it in until you were with him and away from the manor. He hated it.

“But instead, she was met with two people who paid her no respect. Two people that brought her turmoil. I expected Kron to be horrible, look at how he talked to you, but not you. You were supposed to be better. You didn’t see how much you hurt her, I did. It’s like we prepped for nothing but a shitshow and I should have followed my gut and kept her to myself a little longer.”

Miguel sniffed, wiping at his nose in hopes that it would stop the urge to cry.

Conchata let the silence rest. Nothing but the TV and her son’s sniffles filled the room.

“I’m sorry, Miguel.”

Miguel turned back. Shocked that she didn’t put up much of a fight.

“I just,” she paused. “There’s no excuse for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve it and if I could go back and change my behavior, I would. I think that I was just overwhelmed. Upset because my baby is growing up. He’s moving on and I can’t hold him in my hands anymore. I don’t tuck him in anymore. I don’t have to check under his bed for monsters. He doesn’t need me to do anything. So this shift is hurting me, mijo, and I took it out on the wrong people. For that, I’m so sorry.”

Conchata was a hard-cased woman. She stuck with her opinions, even if they were blatantly wrong. She was proud and vocal. She never let people see her crack or fall under pressure. So, seeing her like this, begging for Miguel to understand her, was a rare moment for Miguel.

“Ma, me growing up doesn’t stop me from being your son. I’m still here. I’ll still rely on you, but I want you to have a break too. You have to let me grow. I won’t live here forever, but that doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you. I’m glad you were able to express this to me, I just wish you could have said so sooner.”

“Lo siento, mijo.”

Miguel got up to get closer to her. He wrapped her up in his arms, too easy to forgive her. “It’s ok.”

He leans back and kisses her forehead, heart mending by the smallest of stitches. “You still have to apologize to my girlfriend, though.”

“I will when I see her again.”

“And we need to go to therapy.”

“George has already told me.”

“And I want you to make me some ceviche. And tamales.”

“Bueno.”

“And tres leches.”

She sighed, but squeezed him tighter. “Don’t curse in front of me again, and I’ll consider it.”

“Gracias, mamá.”

“De nada, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel who goes to sleep with his body feeling a lot lighter. The weight of his relationship with his mom lifted a little off his shoulders.

GymRat!Miguel who has two grand master plans that he’s been setting out for months: eating you out and making your first time together special.

He’s been overthinking every detail like a maniac. The peaches from the fruit bowl have been disappearing to his room for research purposes only- and a snack of course.

He once ended up on the girl side of Tik Tok where they complain about everything guys get wrong when pleasuring them. He had been thoroughly reading the comments and taking notes here and there. He didn’t really need the tip about making noise though, he already does that just thinking about you. So many times has he had to stuff his mouth when jerking off.

He also had a few tabs open in incognito mode. That research is only done in the deep of the night.

Right now, he’s sitting at his desk reading some article about listening to your partner’s body and his mind can’t help but to wander off. Will you grip your thighs around him? He hopes so. He could die that way. Will you be vocal? Will you tell him if it’s too much? Will you guide his head and pull his hair?

That last question has him gripping his sweats in anticipation. No doubt when you scratched at his back in the hotel room, he was reeling from the sensation. It was like a reward for him whenever you feel so good, you’re too unaware of what you’re doing to him physically. Too lost in bliss to register the marks and pain you’re leaving on him. You just want him to give you more.

Miguel drops his pen and pushes the heel of his palm on his growing bulge.

“Fuck.” Every time about an hour or so into researching, his head is full of you. He imagines what it’ll be like to finally taste you, to be inside you.

He remembered how wet you got with just a little rubbing. Your body was so responsive to his movements and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you guys upped the foreplay.

Miguel leaned back in his chair, arm over his head. He dropped his hand in his sweats hand gripping at the base of his erection, exhaling deep as he gave it a few pumps.

Your hands on his chest. Your arms around his neck. Your nails scraping his back. Your thighs wrapping around his waist. Your breath on his lips.

You opening up for him. You dripping down his fingers, down his legs, down his face. You screaming out his name loud enough for the entire neighborhood to file a complaint. You in whatever position he puts you in. He could hold you up. Maybe have your legs in the air or stretched out on the bed. He could have you grabbing for the sheets, the headboard, him. His head in your chest, in your pussy, in your ass.

Pre-cum spilled onto his stomach, rolling down his shaft. Would you let him go that far?

He doesn’t know what’s worse, the cold showers and teeth-marked arms at the beginning of the relationship or his constant daydreams of your body connecting with his that kept occurring regularly.

Maybe you felt the same way too. That was a new thought.

Do you wonder about your first time together? Were you just as excited as him? Do you get wet at the thought of him inside of you? Do you have to stop everything and find pleasure like he does? Were your fingers enough or did you need more?

Miguel continued to move his hand up and down, squeezing occasionally to mimic what you might feel like.

He’s groaning into his elbow, hips lifting from his desk chair.

He could almost hear your voice in his ear. Begging, praising, crying out, stuttering.

GymRat!Miguel who cums as Gabriel slams through the door. In a matter of 15 seconds, Miguel covers his drenched chest, shoves his sensitive dick back down, and grabs napkins to try to wipe away at his hand.

Nevermind his shirt is now ruined.

“What the fuck are you looking at and why is this picture showing a seductive pomegranate?”

“Why the fuck are you opening my door without knocking?”

“I did knock! I did our special knock plus a freestyle! I thought you were dead, Miguelito.”

Miguel’s heart felt a little tug despite its rapid tempo, “’M not dead, Gabri. Just busy. I didn’t hear you.”

Gabriel snickered when he got closer to look at his laptop. “I can see why. These tabs are a dead giveaway.”

Gabriel reached over to stare at Miguel’s notebook.

“These are some good tips! You shouldn’t expect her to taste like sweets, though.”

Nothing in his notes indicated that, but Miguel wanted to be offended for you anyway.

Miguel gave Gabriel a hard side eye, mouth set deeply down.

“I really wish you would get out of my room.”

“Oo, you should buy a rose. Dana loves that thing.”

“I don’t want to hear about whatever freaky shit you and Dana get up to, Gabriel.”

“You’ve caught me in more embarrassing situations, I’m just trying to lighten the mood! I also suggest those candy panties-”

“I’m not putting candy on- Gabriel. Can you please stop talking to me?”

“Miguel, this stuff is important!”

“¿Por qué eres así?” Miguel mumbled. “Ok, yeah. I get it. But you can chat to me about this after I’ve switched shirts.” (Why are you like this?)

“Fine, I’ll come back. Ten minutes. Then we must have a healthy chat about how to have fun safely.”

Gabriel skipped back to the door singing Candy loud enough to be heard as he went back to his own room.

“Strawberry! Raspberry! All those good things! Violets and gumdrops that’s what you’re saying to me, me, me.”

A black hole would be nice to save himself from this situation.

GymRat!Miguel who jumps out of his bed the day of the “Yacht Weekend.” Gabriel is dead set on calling it the “Yachty Pawty” and Miguel thinks that’s unbelievably stupid.

GymRat!Miguel who has to go and pull Gabriel out of his bed to get him to get ready, his body stretching like a ferret. He’s never been a morning person. It’s like his brain didn’t start computing until noon.

GymRat!Miguel who jogs around the neighborhood to kill time. The weather is a lot cooler in the morning plus it gives Gabriel time to come to reality. He waves to the son of one of his neighbors who gawks at him as he passes by.

Were his shorts giving away too much again? He didn’t feel a draft.

He looked down at his crotch. All good.

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while he stops to take a water break.

“Amor!” His voice is bright and his smile is radiant, watching as you squint at the screen.

Your cheek is squished against the pillow and you’re wrapped up in your covers.

“Hey, Miggy. It’s so bright there.”

Your voice was scratchy, a sign of how deep in sleep you were. You were so fucking cute.

“Are you running?”

He placed his phone on a nearby bench so he could stretch. “Yeah, I’m taking a break.”

He went into a deep lunge, stretching his body low to the ground.

You went quiet for so long, Miguel thought the call dropped.

“Baby? Did you go back to sleep?” Miguel asked.

“No, I’m still here. Those pants are,” you started to shuffle your phone. “Really short.”

“Really?” Miguel stood up and looked down at his pants. They did cut off high up his thighs, but they were good for running. Plus, he got hot easily, so he needed as much wind on his skin as possible. “They’re comfy.”

“Mm hm. Can you turn around for me?”

Miguel turned, confused but willing.

“Got it. Thank you, my muscle bear!”

“What did you just do?”

“Took pictures of your ass. It looks great. I’m gonna hold it real good later.”

Miguel laughed and grabbed his phone.

“Can I hold yours, too?” He wanted to do way more than hold it.

You smile sleepily at the camera. “I’ll think about it.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets you stay on the phone while he runs back to the house.

“You’re just going to hear the wind and me breathing for a few minutes.”

“And I’m fine with that! It’s like boyfriend ASMR. Peaceful.”

GymRat!Miguel who ruffles Gabriel’s hair when he gets back home. He’s staring at the wall and shoveling cereal in his mouth at the slowest pace known to man.

“Buenos días, hermanito!” (Good morning, little brother)

“Mm.”

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower to cool off for once and not because he’s having explicit thoughts of you.

GymRat!Miguel who chugs down a protein smoothie while he waits for Gabriel to come downstairs.

GymRat!Miguel who answers the door to Dana. She’s got some shades on and a purse with the same texture as a croc.

She peers over her shades. “You’re looking put together!”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to impress your girl! What do you have planned? A dinner on the horizon? A spa date? Oh! No! Another shopping spree?l

Yes. No, but he should arrange that. And absolutely not. He’s not Tyler.

“No,” Miguel squints. “But how can you tell?”

“You’re easy to read, big guy. Even when you think about her your eyes turn into hearts. When have you ever thought to wear a button down for a roadtrip to the beach?”

“Touche.”

“I’ll figure out what you’re up to. I have my ways.”

She twirls and runs up to Gabriel’s room, leaving a waft of strong perfume after her.

With that, Miguel knew it would be at least another 45 minutes before he could get on the road.

GymRat!Miguel who does his special knock on Gabriel’s door.

“I’m opening it, so you fiends better have your clothes on.”

He swung the door open to the disheveled couple. Dana with her hair astray and Gabriel breathing eerily hard.

“Seriously, guys? I need to go by the airport.”

“I was just waking him up!” Dana says with a voice that was much hoarser than it was an hour ago.

“Well,” Miguel put a hand on his hip in a way that anyone could tell he was Conchata O’Hara’s son. “Are you awake, Gabri?”

Gabriel’s face was as red as a tomato as he shook his head no.

Miguel pitched his voice higher to mimic his brother. “Ten minutes. And then we can have a conversation on time management and respect. Except it won’t be “safely” because I’m going to hurt you.”

GymRat!Miguel who finally backs out of the driveway in exactly ten minutes. Gabriel is rubbing his arm in the passenger seat with a pout on his face. Dana is grinning from ear to ear.

GymRat!Miguel who hands Gabriel the aux. He might be a silly boy, but his music taste is immaculate.

GymRat!Miguel who almost has to hurt Gabriel again when he doesn’t want to get out of the passenger seat.

“Why do I have to move?”

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not grounds for anything!”

Dana pokes her head over the console. “Gabie. Read the room. He wants to grip on to his girl while he drives with one hand. Show off.”

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you and grabs your bags at the same time when he sees you. The cars around are loud, honking sporadically. People are walking and running to catch cabs or get to their loved ones. Workers are trying to direct the traffic.

It all quiets down when he meets your eyes.

“Hola, mi amor.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close. “Hello to you too, my love.”

You smile up until he presses his lips against yours. More and more pecks follow after that.

He holds his nose to yours, completely enraptured by your presence.

“Oh my god, let’s go!” Gabriel shouts from the car, pressing his palm against the steering wheel.

“You’re not the one driving, pinche pendejo!”

You giggle and stand on your tippy toes to try and see over Miguel’s shoulder. You’re still too short so you lean sideways. Miguel melts.

“Just a few more and we’ll be done Gabriel!”

“Fine. For you, I’ll let it slide.”

You stand back up straight and kiss Miguel a little more.

GymRat!Miguel who does reach over and grip your thigh. If Gabriella and Troy weren’t in the back belting, he’d hike his hand up further.

“Right now I can hardly breathe!” Gabriel pivots his head towards Dana dramatically, water bottle a faux mic.

“Oh! You can do it, just know that I believe.” Dana is touching his chest dramatically.

“Are they always like this?” You ask, laughing a little at their antics.

Miguel groans in annoyance. “Yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly sprints out the car when he parks by a pump. He’s been riding for a bit and he needs to stretch his legs.

“Miggy, you want something from the store?”

You’re standing next to the car, the wind blowing your hair back. Your jacket blows away a little, showing off the tight little outfit you’re sporting. You’re beautiful.

He wants to break you down in the front seat of his car.

He swallows the thought. “I’ll come in there soon, don’t worry.”

You walk in the giant gas station and head immediately to the Icee machines. For the best possible experience, you should wait until it’s time to go before buying it.

As you’re walking along the wall wondering what flavor you should get, you feel a tug at your arm.

You turn to see Dana with some bottles in her hand.

“I don’t know what he’s planning, but trust me when I say, you should take these.”

You frown as you take the cranberry juice. “Um.”

“I’ve been around those two long enough to know when one of them is up to something. I mean Gabriel hasn’t said anything off, but look at how he’s bopping around the store.”

You turn and look.

He is indeed bouncing more than usual. He’s so tall that if he puts even more pep in his step, he might just break a hole in the ceiling.

“Ok,” you turn back to Dana while fighting a laugh. “So they are planning something. What does that have to do with me and cranberry juice?”

“Gabie tries his best to use bro code, but I quite literally suck the information out of him sometimes. He caught Miguel looking at lots of articles about pleasuring his partner. With his mouth. That’s all I know for now.”

Your heart picks up. He was still going on about that?

“That might just be a coincidence.”

“He’s wearing damn near beach attire with his hair styled. He held onto your thigh for an hour, even when the turns got tough. He stared at you walking into the store even until he couldn’t see you anymore.”

You bit your lip. “Those last two things are standard Miguel behavior.”

Dana huffs and spins you around.

Across the store, you could see Miguel and Gabriel huddled over something. Miguel with his eyes focused and Gabriel animatedly explaining something. Every once in a while, Miguel would nod and roll his eyes up as if he was mentally checking on something.

You sigh and turn back around.

“Do they sell pineapples too?”

GymRat!Miguel who looms over you while you and Dana are looking at some cakes. You look up at him, pressing your head against his chest.

Miguel kissed your forehead when you beamed at him.

He looked over to Gabriel who was also crowding Dana and shouted, “¡Vamos!”

In a matter of seconds, Miguel had lifted you and brought you to the middle of the store where the workers were cooking up fresh meat.

You squeal in shock and laugh on the way over. Miguel’s not even struggling.

Gabriel on the other hand huffs as he places Dana down.

“You need to work on that, babe.”

“I can lift you when I want to!” Gabriel replies, petulant.

“For like one minute maybe. Why don’t you start working out with Miguel?”

“No thanks.” They both said in unison, almost carbon copies of each other.

Really, if Miguel didn’t work out, or if Gabriel did for about a year, they could definitely play off as twins. Only subtle things separating them, like Gabriel’s freckles, softer face, and slightly shorter height and Miguel’s less curly hair, thicker eyebrows, and deeper voice.

In your eyes, their bond was precious. You wondered what their baby pictures looked like.

“You guys are so cute,” you say, reaching up to squeeze both of their cheeks.

They both melt the same way in your hands. Miguel’s face is only a little bit hotter against your palm.

GymRat!Miguel who presses up against you while you both check out. You stay nonchalant and talk to the cashier like normal, but you could feel Miguel’s heartbeat through your thin romper.

Every breath he took molded on your skin, his chest rising and falling against your head.

He kept steady hands on your hips and waist, only moving them to pay for your snacks.

The cashier would take not-so-subtle breaks to stare up at him, face getting redder after each glance.

You could only think “me too, girl.”

He really did look good today. His shirt was open a little lower than normal, his shorts loose but tightening around his thighs with every step he took. His hair was slicked back with a few strands falling loose and shades sat perfectly on top of his head. A chain danced around his neck, the color glowing on his pretty skin. He was tanner than usual, the sun making him glow after so many morning runs.

To top it off he smelled really good. You wanted to lick him.

From how slow the cashier was moving, you knew she was ready to take a lick too.

You took moments like this in stride. Especially when Miguel was pressed so hard against you, you could feel his dick at the small of your back.

Still, when people still tried to hit on your boyfriend or gawked at him even when you caught them, it was hard not feel frustrated about others thinking he can be taken from you. Or just ignoring you.

More often than not, Miguel would bring you back down to earth with some action to let others know that he’s taken.

Today, it was a kiss to your neck and a smack to your ass followed by his hand rubbing circles in the same spot.

He grabbed the bags in one hand and your hip in the other.

You looked back to the cashier scanning the next customer far more aggressively than before.

GymRat!Miguel who eats half of his sandwich before starting the car back up.

You still place the other half in front of his mouth, feeding him occasionally.

He just smiles before and after each bite. Giddy with attention. You wipe his mouth to stop sauce from spilling from his shirt.

Miguel almost turns the car into turbo drive.

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to the beach an hour or so later. It’s late Thursday afternoon, so the sun is still shining bright.

Gabriel is excited to finally be free from the tight back seat so he uses the opportunity to blast music from Miguel’s stereo.

“C’mon, Dana! Dance with me,” Gabriel said, pulling her out of the back seat and bringing her to the front of the var. “Let’s have a twerk-off.”

You can’t stop the laugh that spills out of your mouth. You couldn’t imagine either of them shaking anything.

“I can not twerk and you know it!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t shake. Don’t be shy now!”

You and Miguel get out of the car to stretch, Miguel watching the two over the hood of the car, unphased.

Gabriel turns to you with a glint in his eyes. “Can you twerk?”

You were ready to shake your ass on a yacht after some liquid courage, but you didn’t mind a little dancing beforehand.

You hurried to the front before the song was over and put your hands on the hood. You bend over with an arch in your back and move your ass to the beat of the song.

You hear Gabriel shout, “Oh shit! Go, go, go!”

Dana sprints, nearly bulldozing Gabriel to stand behind you and catch it. You laugh at the two and bend even deeper, encouraged by their cheers.

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes nearly pop out of his head when you bend over.

When did you learn how to do that?

He’s stunned for a second until he reaches inside the car and turns the radio off. He’s going to kill Gabriel.

Miguel hurries to the front and picks Dana up by her armpits to move her aside. “You guys are wasting my gas and neither you or you are CashApping me shit.”

He straightens you up and pulls your risen romper back over your ass. He stands behind you like a bodyguard, arms crossed and frown deepening.

“I don’t know what you think we’re going to be doing on this yacht, but all of my girls are throwing it back. You need to prepare yourself, Mig.” Dana scoffs, mostly offended that Miguel just removed her from a dream spot.

“Yeah, Mig. Be mindful of why you were invited to the function,” Gabriel turned his nose up and wrapped his arm around Dana. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, m’lady.”

Gabriel bowed to you and you curtsied back with a fake dress. The two of them walked like royalty to the trunk, gathering their bags.

GymRat!Miguel who stuttered trying to explain himself when you turned to him.

“Is it going to be a problem for you that I’m dancing with others?”

“No!” he said way too fast.

You gave him a look with your eyebrow raised.

“You just,” he paused. His voice got quieter as he played with the strap of your romper. “You never danced on me before.”

He had a pout on his face, mouth turned like a duck.

“Oh my god, Miguel. I can dance on you if you would like. You just have to ask.” He was so cute. You’ve never seen him get that jealous before.

You kind of want to play with him some more.

“Can you dance on me later?” he asks, not daring to meet your eyes.

“Of course.”

You giggle as you kiss his cheek. His pout slowly disappearing from his face.

GymRat!Miguel who is greeted by the enthusiastic captain with a shake that moves his entire arm. He’s a jolly little fellow, cheeks rosy and his mustache curled on the ends. He was also strangely stocky. He reminded Miguel of Santa Claus if he took vacations in the Bahamas when he’s not at the North Pole.

“I take it you’re Mr. Stone’s son, yes?”

“That would be me.”

“Excellent! Excellent. Your father has told me quite a lot about you. You sure do take after his height. My name is Captain Barrett and I’ll be steering the boat for you youngins this weekend. Me and your father go way back. And between you and me, I was better lookin’!”

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, trying to move the conversation along.

He finally looks past Miguel and sees the three of you standing there.

“And who might you three be?”

“This is my younger brother, Gabriel. His girlfriend, Dana.”

“And this is my girlfriend.” Miguel moves by your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders. His tone is full of warmth as he says your name.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Will you all be in our cabins this weekend?”

“Yeah, this is four of the ten staying on board. The others won’t get here until tomorrow at noon.”

“Is Kron supposed to be joining you all too?”

Miguel stiffens, his grip on your shoulder a little firmer.

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Perfect! He ruined my other boat and it took me ages to clean it up. Hopefully, you’re nothing like him.” Captain Barrett does a little pleading gesture with his hands.

“Welp, follow me and I’ll show you on board!”

GymRat!Miguel who is still stunned by the amount of things money can buy when he sees the yacht. He’ll never get used to the life of luxury that Tyler introduces to him.

“Holy shit,” Gabriel mutters as he stares up at the black and wooden beauty of the deck. Dana elbows in his side, telling him to be polite in front of the captain.

“Welcome to Black Jack.”

There were crew members there to hand out fancy smoothies and grab everyone’s bags.

You had seen yachts on some of your old high school classmates’ Insta stories but this was beyond.

“I’d like to introduce you guys to the crew. They’ll be assisting me to give you youngins a good time.”

Captain Barrett ran down the line and you all greeted every person. Miguel made mental notes of their names. They’ll be getting close with all of the surprises he had planned for you.

“And this is my son, Blake! He’ll be helping me up in the cockpit.”

Miguel stopped to shake his hand.

He was like the textbook definition of a pretty frat boy. Tall, but not O’Hara tall, tan, and handsome. He smiled and showed a straight line of teeth, dimples peeking through.

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Kron’s really not coming?”

What’s with people asking about that dickhead today?

“Nope. Just us and our friends. If he does come, it’s news to me.”

Blake went to shake your hand and it was like he started to glow under the sun. His smile went up to his eyes and he mimicked the heartthrobs in the movies Miguel’s cousins watched growing up.

“And who’s this?”

“My name is-”

“My girlfriend,” Miguel said before you could even finish.

You looked up at him in shock, laughing it off. “That too, but I have a name.” You respond to Blake and shake his hand.

Miguel doesn’t like how his eyes scan your body. It was subtle, but he caught it.

Even as you all finish up greetings, Blake is still making moves towards you. The type of flirting that probably flew over your head, but Miguel has been around enough guys like him to know exactly what it was.

“So is this your first time on a boat?” Blake asked you while he guided you guys to your room.

“No, actually. But it’s definitely my first time on a yacht, especially one this huge.”

Miguel followed behind with Dana and Gabriel.

“Is this your first time on a boat?” Miguel mocked Blake quietly, mouth scrunched up.

“‘La envidia esta flaca, porque muerde y no come,’” Gabriel replied. “You’re turning green from your neck, bro. He’s just being nice.” (Envy is thin, because it bites and does not eat.)

“No, he’s definitely flirting,” Dana quipped. “He’s not even paying the rest of us any attention.”

“Thank you, Dana. And Gabriel, don’t ever quote a Spaniard to me again.”

“How do you call that flirting? He’s not even-” Gabriel paused as Blake laughed really loud at something that you said with his hand guiding you way too close on your ass. “Ah shit.”

Miguel stomped towards you two, yanking Blake’s hand off of you and replacing it with his.

“I think we’ve got it from here. You can show those two where they’ll be staying. Thanks,” Miguel nods his head towards Dana and Gabriel with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Right,” Blake responds to him with a blank face. “I’ll see you up on the deck.” Blake winks at you before walking further.

“Don’t kill him, Miguel,” Dana pats his shoulder as she walks by.

“You’ve got my permission to hurt him if he touches me one more time though,” you say, snuggling close to Miguel and patting at his chest.

“So, I’m killing him. Got it.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches you twirl around the VIP suite.

“Miguel! This is so beautiful! Look at the view.”

“Oh my god! There’s a walk-in closet!”

“There’s a bidet! How’d they fit that and a shower in here?”

Miguel leaned on the doorway, watching you comment on every little thing.

You made sure to start to spray everything with Lysol, a habit from your mom when traveling.

While you were in the bathroom, Miguel got out one of his first gifts of the night.

It was another keychain to add to your collection. He’s been working hard to have this weekend make up for the awful dinner night.

He placed it on the bed and started to open his bag to grab his pajamas.

“What’s this?” you ask, coming out to spray the bed.

“Just a little gift for you.”

“Aw, this is so cute!” Your voice gets higher as you take in the little legos. “They even look like us! When did you get these?”

“I got them made about a week ago. You like them?”

“I love them! Thank you, Miggy.”

GymRat!Miguel who wants to moan when you walk out.

You guys are going on a double date with Gabriel and Dana at a casual-not-so-casual restaurant farther in the city. That didn’t stop you from getting all dolled up.

You walk to him on the bed, standing in between his legs.

“Amor,” Miguel said, rubbing his hands up and down your backside. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you,” you responded, careful to not run your hands through his hair. It was a comfort for you, but you didn’t want to ruin it.

Instead, you bent down to kiss him in the quiet of the room. The sun was still out, but a lot dimmer than before. Little patches of sunlight caught Miguel’s eyes. The color was so deeply brown, you swore you saw speckles of red throughout.

He moved to sit you on his lap, glancing over every detail of your body.

“You’re making it harder for me to want to leave.”

“It’s funny that you say that. You’ve been walking around like you’re straight out of a beach movie. Chest out and legs for days.”

Miguel blushed and put his head in your chest, bending you back and holding you so you won’t fall.

“What are you hiding for? It’s true!” you laugh as Miguel seemed to burrow his face deeper.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to call me out.” He was just trying to impress you, per usual.

GymRat!Miguel who gets nervous on the way to the restaurant. It was one of those immersive experiences with projections on the plates that told stories with the meals. They were pretty cute to Miguel and he figured that all three of you guys would love it.

The only thing is, he pulled some strings with Tyler to add an extra animation in there. He’s not sure how much that cost, but he’s glad he didn’t have to see the price.

GymRat!Miguel who side-eyes Gabriel when he just about screams as the little chef walks across the animated place.

“He’s so tiny!” he whisper-shouts. “So precious!”

By the time the first course comes out Gabriel is fighting tears.

“Control it, Gabri,” Miguel says, rubbing his back.

“I’m trying. I really am.”

GymRat!Miguel whose heart blooms when you laugh at one of the scenes. The little chef is squabbling with a giant shrimp and losing the battle.

GymRat!Miguel whose heart speeds up when the special animation starts up.

Only the two of your plates are lit up. There’s a river of chocolate that separates the two. From Miguel’s plate, there’s a little version of him that calls to your plate. He watches as your eyes grow when a mini you climbs on top of the plate and yells back. Your character throws him a kiss, sending a pink flutter across the river. The wave of it goes straight to mini Miguel’s heart who in turn, falls backwards dramatically.

The real you lets out a watery laugh at the scene, eyes looking at Miguel briefly in shock.

Mini Miguel jumps back up and gets to work, digging around the plate to grab biscoff cookies from the chocolate ocean to make a boat. While he works, your character wanders around the plate cutely, tidying up the area for his arrival.

When the boat is finished, Mini Miguel uses a giant spoon to steer the boat, singing out brightly the closer he gets to you. The mini you is jumping up and down, cheering him on just like you do in real life.

Once he gets to the edge of your plate, you lean close to give him a kiss. He climbs from the boat onto the plate and spins you around. You giggle in his hold until he lets you down.

From there, he starts to use the spoon to drag a chocolate message across the plate. He takes confident steps, spreading the brown syrup across the plate with ease.

“Tú eres mi luz.” (You are my light.)

When he finishes it, you both sit at the edge of the plate, feeding each other scoops of chocolate from the giant spoon. They both look up at you to wave, the Mini Miguel cheesing extremely hard as he waves both arms.

The animation fades away in a wave of browns and pinks, the waiters bringing out the actual plates of food.

The floodgates open when you’re presented with the same chocolate message, a slice of chocolate biscoff cake, and little chocolate decorations of the mini you and Miguel.

“Oh my god, the spoon is here too,” you say with emotion, picking up a chocolate coated spoon. “Miguel!”

You don't know what to do. You keep fanning your face in hopes to stop the tears from coming out and ruining the light makeup you had on. Dana hands you a pointed napkin and you thank her while holding your head back.

Gabriel is a mess, faces wet with tears. His cheeks are round as he blows out air to control his breathing.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, mi amor,” Miguel’s face is ridden with worry as he reaches across the table to grab your hand. He looks to Gabriel and sighs, “You either, hermanito.” (little brother)

“I’m good. I gotta just,” Gabriel waves a hand in front of his face cutely. “Just gotta get this out. If you’ll excuse me.”

He gets up to shuffle to the bathroom.

“I better go help him out. He gets a little delirious when he cries like that,” Dana says, rubbing your shoulder as she leaves the table.

Miguel wastes no time to sit in Dana’s seat, taking the napkin from your hands and wiping carefully at your tears.

“I love you. So, so much,” you say, resting your face in his hands. “Everyday, you find new ways to surprise me. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m just…”

You pause, waving your hands in the air, unable to express how you felt. Just thinking about it has the tears spilling over again.

“Hey, hey,” Miguel chides, catching your tears again. “If you keep crying, I’m going to cry.”

“I can’t help it, Miguel! You made a cookie boat to get to me. How can I not cry?”

Miguel reaches to kiss your cheeks in hopes to help you subside the tears, “I know, baby, I know. But to answer your first thought, when I think of you, the ideas just pour out of me. You’re my first true love, so I don’t know all the ends and outs of a relationship, but I do know what it feels like to be loved. I just want to extend that feeling to you.”

You stare in awe and the man sitting next to you, eyes glistening as you take in his words.

“I think I need another tissue.”

Miguel laughs as he grabs one to pat at your face again.

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the cake while you feed him scoops of ice cream when you’ve calmed down. You can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.2 here!

a/n: This is half of the chapter, but I had so much fun writing this! (mostly because I was not doing my actual work while writing half of it), especially Gabriel's silly ass. Like, it was super duper fun. Writing jealous Miguel was also great. There's so much stuff about reader that he was unaware of and I've been imagining him sitting at a table and yelling like Kendrick when it all plays back in his mind.

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days

Note

hello ! i would like to make a small(? request

aventurine, jing yuan, dan heng and blade with a gn! reader that always stand up by themselves (against bulliying or smth like that) but are too tired to keep doing it, maybe how they would react? (of its too complicated to understand a tired reader is okay ) ty so much! and take care –☆

Aventurine spoils you nonstop with whatever your heart desires in an expression of thanks for everything you did for others, expecting nothing in exchange.

In his eyes you deserved to be pampered and treated with the highest of honour for selflessly standing up for not just yourself, but for others who couldn’t do so themselves.

So naturally fatigue was going to catch up with you after a while of doing the same thing day in and day out and Aventurine could tell that you wanted nothing more then a slow, lazy day within the confines of your shared bed, being lulled off to sleep by the sounds of your cake critters that you both had somewhat adopted.

‘Relax and let me spend as much as I want on you.’ He told you once when you asked him to not waste such large quantities of money on you, and in such a short amount of time too that it was concerning. ‘For no amount of money that I spend on you could ever repay for the kindness and resilience you’ve shown for yourself and countless others.’ He adds as he presses soft, sweet kisses to your cheeks, lips and forehead.

‘You spoil me too often.’ You say as you cuddled a cake critter to your chest.

aventurine shrugs. ‘Am I not meant to? Because to me that sounds like a challenge to spoil you even more.’

You then decided that it would be best to not tempt aventurine even further as you knew firsthand that he would pull out all the stops if you asked him, and so instead you just told him that you wanted to spend the lazy day with him, before opening your arms for him to cuddle himself into you as you both soon fell asleep together in peace.

Jing yuan would advise that you rest and would even encourage you to rest yourself against him if that helped you ease into sleep easier.

‘You are brave,’ he began softly as you rested yourself fully against his side, ‘your kindness will not be forgotten by the people you’ve helped for kindness is a virtue that not many possess.’ He adds, pressing a kiss to your forehead, holding you close as he watches as your eyelids begins to flutter shut. ‘This merely means that you are a unique, rare soul amongst a river of other souls imbued with selfishness and greed.’

Jing yuan would praise you for being strong for as long as you have and probably hum a small tune lowly in your ear as he aided you into a peaceful slumber.

He wants you to rest as much as possible and he may or may not join you as an excuse to have a small nap, if anyone were to come looking for him and accuse him of sleeping on the job, he’d merely smile and say he was resting meditation while cuddling you against a wall.

Nobody believes this excuse because when does anyone meditate while cuddling someone at the same time? No one. Absolutely no one.

However Jing Yuan didn’t care as your health and well being was his main priority and would ask that if anyone had things to ask of you to forward them to him instead and have them dealt with in due time, just as long as they respected that you were on a break. He will no have you burn yourself out over simple matters when he was more then happy to deal with them on your behalf.

Blade would wordlessly take over in standing up for you against anyone and anything the moment he saw that you had grown the slightest bit tired.

He admired your strength of staying strong for so long but would much rather if you left the protecting to him. After all he was made for this, he was made to be your weapon against all those who’d raise issue with you, so why don’t you just lay back as he defended you tooth and nail if he must.

‘I can defend myself.’ You barked at him once and he looks at you unblinkingly.

‘Haven’t you already done that enough?’ He asks and when you couldn’t find something to say in retaliation he continued. ‘Thought so, just leave everything to me while you rest.’

You maybe stubborn but Blade took the word stubborn and gave it a whole new meaning with how determined he was that you take time to focus on yourself and let him handle those who sought to drag your name through the mud.

For to him you’ve done enough standing up for yourself as it is, it was time for him to step up when you couldn’t find the strength to continue the fight a day more. He’d even do small acts for you without you ever having to ask him.

You’re feeling thirsty? There’s a glass of water nearby that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Don’t feel like making your favourite comfort food? Blade’s got you, it may not be the best but it was the thought that counted.

You can’t find it within yourself to get changed in the morning because your limbs felt like lead? Don’t worry because blade was more then willing to dress you in the most comfortable set of clothes in your possession.

There was no task too big or small for Blade as for all he cared was that you were well taken care of, he was your guard dog that always looked out for you no matter what because if he had it his way you’d never have to lift a finger.

Dan heng would commend you for your selfless acts but the moment he sees the toll it’s taken on you, he’s insisting on doing almost everything for you in hopes of making things a lot easier for you.

‘You’ve done enough for today, you should rest and let me take care of everything in your stead.’ He’d say as he’s reading one of his books to you in bed.

Much like blade, Dan Heng would do small acts of service for you without you ever having to ask him because he wants your period of rest to be the most enjoyable it could possibly be.

If you want cuddles, he’ll do it but don’t be surprised when he starts purring and his tail appears to latch onto your waist, keeping you close as he nuzzled your neck.

He’d make sure you’re kept hydrated and feed throughout the day, and will remind you that it wasn’t much of a bother to him looking after you because he loved looking after you and that you shouldn’t feel like a burden during this time, before press a kiss to your forehead as his thumbs carefully stroked just under your eyes.

He’d gladly make you breakfast in bed if you wanted, all you had to do was ask and he’d happily do his best to provide for you.

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xxdark-obsessionxx · 3 days

Note

I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor.

Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down.

BIG MISTAKE

I was supposed to be asleep five hours ago but I couldn’t until I finished this. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky.

CW: Noncon

Dark themes ahead, please read at your own discretion and keep yourself safe. This is a work of fiction and I do not condone or support scenarios like this in real life

_____________________________________________

“You dropped this.”

The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand.

“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.

The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt.

“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.”

You give him another smile and walk past him. He had seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were absolutely determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job.

The man you met earlier had turned out to be your first patient. And oh boy, what a patient he was. Like you had promised yourself you weren’t going to judge any of these people but god damn. His file was thick. At least twenty papers were inside the manilla folder you had received from the head director’s office. Maybe even more.

You’d never know if you kept standing outside the director’s office gawking at it. You take a deep breath. Going through it sitting down was probably a good idea. As you make your way to the breakroom, your grip on the folder is tight, trying your best to make sure you don’t drop it and reveal your patient's file.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read.

Løvik Tord

3 7 2 5 9

DOB: 1995

Age: 28

Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots

Eye: Silver

You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty.

CASE INFORMATION:

Tord is a violent man. He is aggressive, manipulative, and has a short temper. Many doctors have tried working with him to no avail. He does not respond kindly to Dr.Casey (see page 5), Dr.Bonnie (see page 8), Dr.Roxy (see page 12), or Dr.Harley (see page 15).

He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20).

You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file.

Dr.Bruce has tried everything he can to help Tord. He has tried finding common ground with the patient. Has tried being lax and strict with Tord’s schedule. Has tried working with Tord and letting him sit outside. Tord had found every loophole and burned every bridge until Dr.Bruce stopped lenient treatments. Tord stabbed Dr.Bruce fifteen times before guards made their way into the room.

It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-

“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.”

You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?

The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you.

“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.”

You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder.

“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place?

You actually hadn’t needed to be anywhere for another thirty minutes but if this conversation continued you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue. Everyone can be saved. With compassion and kindness and help, no one was beyond redemption. Or too far gone for help.

You storm out of the breakroom and wander.

“I was hoping I’d see you again.”

Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down.

It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It’s silent enough to hear the clock as the two of you study each other. He seems to drink you in, eyes wandering up and down, seeming to take in everything. You’d do the same if you weren’t a professional.

“You used to dye your hair?”

Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….

After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.”

“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

“I’m sorry?”

His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.

Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously.

“I want you to be at ease with your mental health,” you answer, still looking puzzled. “I don’t want anything else from this job but that. I’m not dangling hair dye in front of you in exchange. I want you to feel comfortable in your skin and at home here, Mr.Løvik.”

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?”

Whatever it may be, you smile at him.

“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.”

Things were easier after that first session. You always started off kindly, asking Tord how his day was going. If his favorite show or movie had aired on the television today.If his favorite food had been served that morning or afternoon. If he slept fine through the dreadful storm.

(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, no. I have a cat but no boyfriend. I was too busy getting my decree to ever really mingle like that. Though, my poor little man was also distraught at all the thunder last night. He yowled at my door until I let him into my room and he curled up on my bed. I’ll bring pictures next time.”)

Too well for you and only you. Tord refused to talk to anyone but you. He would sit in silence or insult other doctors during his sessions. In one instance, he broke a new doctor’s nose. The poor guy had quit on the spot, cussing Tord and the whole place out as he was escorted to the medical section.

You were tense the next few sessions but that violent man was nowhere to be found. He kept his cuffed hands right in front where you can see them at all times. He never lunged from you. In fact, barely ever moved in his chair.

Tord was easygoing. Polite, charming, even. He took any medications he needed obediently and put up no fuss when you’d have him describe in later sessions how he was feeling and if he was feeling any negative side effects.

He asked about your cat. About how your favorite show was going. If the movie you were looking forward to has come out yet. If your favorite restaurant down the street from your apartment was still closed for renovations.

Eventually, enough time had passed that you relaxed. You stopped keeping your eyes trained on his hands. You stopped worrying yourself sick about his body language. You focused on his treatments and his mental health.

If he was going to hurt me he would have done so by now, you thought to yourself after your latest session with Tord. He was doing so much better than he had been doing six months ago. It seemed as if you were really making a difference, helping him improve.

It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind.

You step outside the building and take a deep breath. A dopey smile sticks to your face as you walk to your car. Becoming a doctor was the best choice you’ve ever made. Nothing was more rewarding than helping people. Not even this cloudy weather could bring you down.

In fact, nothing tried to drag your mood down. There was no traffic on the way home. Some asshole hadn’t parked in your assigned parking spot again in the parking lot of your apartment. And your sweet cat hadn’t knocked his little box over again.

You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down.

In the middle of the night, thunder wakes you. You jolt up, scrambling for your phone. Your hands come up empty. Shit, you think. I left it charging in the kitchen. Ugh. Oh well, you don’t need to look at your phone to see it is late and storming.

Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash.

“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open.

You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze.

Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you.

“Tord?” you whimper, hands shaking. But that can’t be. That was impossible. He was supposed to be sleeping soundly in his room with the soundproof headphones you got him. He didn’t like storms. The thunder reminded him too much of gunshots and made him restless.

Useless information floods your brain.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light.

He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-

He’s covered in blood.

Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face.

“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.”

He grabs the edge of your blanket and pulls it off. His smile grows sappy. “You did go for the red pants like I suggested.” He giggles, staring between your legs. “I wonder if there’s a match beneath them.”

That snaps you out of your shocked stupor. You scramble off your bed, slamming your head hard against your nightstand as you try to avoid Tord’s lunging grasp.

You lay fetal on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your head. “Fuck,” you hiss.

Tord clicks his tongue. He slowly climbs off your bed, crouching next to you. “My poor clumsy sweetheart.”

You feel his hands in your hair.

“What do you want?” you gasp. Fear and pain mix as you start to cry into your carpet.

His hands stroke your hair.

“You.”

With that, you’re powerless to stop him as he scoops you up into his arms. You thrash as he dumps you back onto your bed, pinning you down.

“I know you're scared but it’s ok. I’ll be gentle, my love. So gentle.”

Your mind can’t wrap your head around what’s happening. Tord isn’t supposed to be tying your wrists to your headboard. He isn’t supposed to be kissing your neck and grinding his hard arousal between your legs. He isn’t supposed to be in your home.

“Such a good girl, staying still for me,” Tord says softly as he pulls back. He slides your pants down. Disappoint clouds his eyes when he sees your panties aren’t red but it’s deepened when he pulls those down and you’re barely wet.

“It’s ok sweets. I’ll figure out what gets you going. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in needing help.”

Anger wells in your chest as Tord fishes for something in one of his pockets. How dare he. How dare he parrot your own advice back at you. As if this was a simple therapy session. As if you were the patient and he was the doctor wanting to help.

“Get off me!” you snarl. “You know this isn’t right Tord. Y-you’re sick! You need help!”

Tord stops what he’s doing to stare dead eyed at you. He plucks a clean rag off your nightstand and stuffs it into your mouth.

“Enough of that,” he scolds. “You need this as much as I do. In fact, doctors orders.”

He grins at his own twisted joke. He fishes through his pockets again and pulls out a small bottle of lube. “Yes, just what my love needs. A good thorough fuck.”

You desperately try to spit the rag out but your mouth is too dry. You twist and tug your wrists but to no avail. This was happening. Your gentle, sweet patient was going to take your virginity.

Tord carefully squirts lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together. He parts your folds, humming appreciatively as he rubs your clit.

“That’s it, my good girl. Get nice and wet for me.”

You feel sick. Against your will, his crooning and his touches stir up arousal inside you. You close your eyes as he gently fingers you as if he was searching for something.

A minute later, your eyes fly open as he jabs something horrible. Your pussy grows slick from it, pleasure building in your lower stomach.

“There it is.”

You shake your head violently. Not there, you try to plead with your eyes. Anywhere but there!

But Tord merely smiles at you and ruthlessly abuses that spot. Over and over his fingers jab and curl, rubbing it. You squeeze your eyes tight, small moans making their way out of your throat as pleasure jolts through you.. His thumb strokes your clit and you cum embarrassedly fast. You stare at the ceiling and wish you hadn’t wanted to cum at all.

“Good girl,” Tord praises. He pulls his fingers out, eying them appreciatively. He sticks them in his mouth and sucks, moaning. “So sweet. But I’m too impatient to try it from the source. You’ll have to forgive me, my love.”

Panic jolts up your spine as you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. You try to climb up your bed rest but you only achieve getting a little higher up on your pillows. Tord sighs and presses forward.

“It’ll hurt for a moment but I promise this will feel good,” Tord tries to soothe. He picks up the lube and squeezes more into his palm and strokes himself.

You hate him. You hate him with all your heart.

He pushed forward and once again, you squeezed your eyes tight. His hand roughly grabs your throat.

“Eyes on me,” he snaps. “I want to see how good I make you feel.”

The fear overturns the pain and you quickly open your eyes. He pushes further in, reaching down to run your clit.

Tord rocks his hips a little, eyes starstruck as he stares down at you. “You’re getting wetter,” he mumbles to himself. A grin spreads across his face.

His hips snap forward, setting a firm pace. He stops rubbing your clit to grab under your thighs. He lifts them up and pushes until they’re almost touching your breasts.

He thrusts harder and-

You squeal, bucking your hips as he hits that horrible spot. You can’t stop bucking your hips, jolts of pleasure stabbing your stomach and stars in your eyes.

Tord pressed closer to you, caging you in. He holds your gaze intensely, panting a little. His eyes dart between your face and your bouncing tits.

Like earlier, you cum fast. This one hits you harder. And Tord doesn’t stop.

You cum again and he pulls out. “Move and I’ll beat your ass with a belt,” he growls. He pulls out a switchblade and cuts the rope off your headboard. He’s quick to tie your wrists together.

You find yourself on your stomach, ass up. Tord firmly holds your hips. He enters again, pressing down against you. Caging you against the mattress as he pounds into your pussy hard. By the time you’re cumming again, he finally cums with you.

You’re crying by this point. Overstimulation has you cringing, your pussy tingling as he pulls out. Once again, you start to panic. Tord had come inside you. You thrash underneath him.

“Stop that,” he hisses, slapping your ass hard. You cry harder as he does it another three times. And another, until you finally go still.

You hear Tord sigh harshly. “I need to be patient with you,” he mumbles to himself. He gets off of you and you hear him leave the room.

He’s back within minutes, holding a wet hand towel. You’re gently turned over onto your back and he softly cleans you up. You can’t look at him.

“Mrrow.”

Your heart jolts. Your cat jumps onto the bed, purring as Tord pets him with his clean hand. Traitor.

“You rest while I pack,” Tord says softly. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll grab everything you need and love for our new home.”

He climbs off the bed and leaves the room again. He comes back with duffel bags. Your cat paddles up to you and curls up next to you. He purrs hard as you sob your eyes out.

#tw yandere #yandere #tw noncon #yandere noncon #yandere tord x reader #cw noncon #cw yandere #yandere smut #yandere lemon #noncon tw #noncon cw #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere tord #yandere x you #tw dark fic #yandere sinsworld #sinsworld

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jay7543 · 3 days

Text

The vampire and könig the hunter

M4m

18+

Hey, I am still working on those part 2s and another request but I love vampires and really wanted to make this. Another jay original! In this the reader is the vampire and könig is the hunter, swapped from the stuff I usually see. I hope you like it!

This is gonna be a bit of a longer one for me and pretty dialogue heavy, but I also put a lot of effort into it. :)

Feel free to make requests

You’ve been around a long time, you’ve all but lost track of the years, no, centuries rather. You’ve had a lot of hunters come after you, it was inevitable after all, you expected it. Yet you’re still here, either from luck or just the stupidity of those who came after you. However, there was one, who over the last little while has been persistent, and you’ve been too entertained to kill him. You terrorize the people of the city, and he’s always there after, just after, and you always taunt him, leaving notes in blood or just straight up watching him from a distance. Tonight is different, you finally decide to actually talk to him, and maybe find a new snack.

You decided to feed him some false information of the location of a vampire, as you waited on a roof for him, for a surprisingly long time, you finally spot him on the ground below and drop down behind him

Reader-“finally, I was starting to think-“

You get cut off as he spins around and plunges a knife in your abdomen. You pull away and slowly pull the knife out. While it drips your blood onto the ground the wound closes and you look up at könig.

Reader-“that is not nice”

You say annoyed as you point the knife at him before dropping it to the ground.

König-“Hölle. Why are you here, I have business and don’t need your shit”

He says as he shoots you a glare. He knows he can’t beat you, but he doesn’t yet know why you’re here.

Reader-“that’s right, about the location of a puny vampire right?”

I smirk and he looks at me with confusion

König-“how did you-“

Reader-“I planted that information”

König glares

König-“you have some nerve doing that, you’re lucky I don’t kill you now”

You chuckle

Reader-“nerve? I do what I want and you know that”

You cross your arms and keep up your shit eating grin.

König-“so arrogant, as always. Don’t forget who you’re talking too”

König scoffs, but deep down he’s happy you haven’t lost your confidence

Reader-“bla Bla bla, vampire hunter, Bla bla.”

You chuckle

Reader-“you have a few more grey hairs than i remember”

That hits könig a bit deeper than he’d like to show, he has aged, quite a bit actually since you two first encountered each other, yet you look just the same, so alluring. Konigs eyes shimmer in the moonlight

König-“you never could keep your mouth shut, Abschaum. But that never stopped you from being a pain in my ass”

He says as he rolls his eyes

Reader-“no I can. I just choose not to, it’s much more fun”

You giggle like a schoolgirl, your words sounding more and more sensual

König-“you haven’t changed a bit”

He mutters under his breath, but he can’t help but feel a hint of nostalgia from all of your other encounters.

König-“but there’s no point in trading barbs with you anymore”

He said softly, shifting more from irritation to acceptance

Reader-“why not? I still find it fun”

König-“I have things to do”

He turns to start walking away but you take a step towards him, grabbing his wrist

Reader-“really? Better than me?”

You pout playfully, your pale skin glowing in the moonlight, your flowing black hair swaying softly.

König-“well…since you said you fed me that information, I guess not”

He stopped and you let go of his wrist, as a sign of thanks. He knew there was nothing more important than the strongest vampire around, he just didn’t exactly know what to do next.

Reader-“you know, a lot of the “intelligence” you get is fed directly from me, you know that right?”

You say smugly, using air quotes around intelligence

König-“you’d be surprised how many spies I have in your ranks”

You let out a hearty laugh

Reader-“oh I know, of course I know. You humans forget you smell different”

Konigs eyes widen a bit, taken aback by what you said

König-“you-you knew my men were in your ranks?”

Reader-“of course, you and your lackeys are getting sloppy”

Königs jaw clenches in annoyance

König-“you always had a sharp nose”

Reader-“teeth too”

You flash your fangs with a smile. König stares at them for a second, almost transfixed, intimidated by you

König-“I’ll have to have a word with them after this”

You chuckle

Reader-“good luck, they aren’t very talkative anymore”

This draws a dark, bittersweet smile from könig, he has to give you credit, you’ve kept your humor over all these years

Reader-“you know, if you’re gonna send me food, at least make them taste good”

König let’s put a genuine laugh from that, surprised at how easy you joke about killing and sucking the blood of his hunters

König-“I’ll keep that in mind. Nervensäge”

Reader-“me? A nuisance? Says the one who’s been chasing me for 2 decades”

König stops for a second and sighs

König-“has it really been that long?”

Reader-“it all runs together when you live as long as me”

König-“it feels like just yesterday I was a starry eyed hunter with big ambitions”

You take a step closer

Reader”hm, and literally just yesterday I was drinking your lackeys. They taste of booze and cheap women”

You chuckle

König-“well, they led that type of lifestyle, god knows what they had in them”

König sighs, he was a bit embarrassed that his hunters were such easy prey for you

You take another step closer

Reader-“I don’t mind a bit of spice”

You and him were now standing face to face, only inches apart. Konigs breath got caught in his throat as he looked into your piercing red eyes, sensing the undeniable spark of tension between them

König-“well…perhaps you’d prefer me?”

He asks abruptly, his voice growing much more sensual than before

Reader-“perhaps, I do wonder what you taste like”

You lean in a bit and smirk

König froze in place, his heart pounding. The hunt was over, now all you had to do was claim him. He reminded motionless as he stared at your lips

Reader-“hm, the hunter frozen in fear by his prey. The question is, is fear? Or lust”

You lick his neck and collar bone softly, teasing him, getting a taste. He shudders at the feeling of your tongue on his neck, all he wants is to give in…but part of him still holds out. He puts a hand on your chest and pushes you a bit

Reader-“come on, don’t back out now. I know you want it, I can smell it”

You sniff the air a few times and lick your lips. König tried to stay calm, but you were right, he wanted to touch you, feel your smooth, perfect skin, to let you drink his blood

König-“you’ve always been a master manipulator”

He says, trying to hold what little dignity he has left.

Reader-“we’ve been enemies for so long, why not be lovers, at least for tonight”

König paused, he was lost in thought, the opportunity to be your lover was tempting, too tempting. He took a deep breath and spoke

König-“ok, ok, for tonight”

You smirk, you finally won, now you get exactly what you want.

Reader-“good, just know, it does come with me getting a taste of you, your blood, everything”

König shivers in anticipation, the thought of you drinking his blood made his heart pound. You lean in and kiss him. The second your lips touch his, all his defenses fall, he didn’t care about hunting you anymore, he just wanted you and your lips, and whatever else you can offer. Your bodies press together, your body cool to the touch and his burning hot from arousal, he was utterly intoxicated by your scent and touch. You pull away

Reader-“good boy”

You smirk. König felt so helpless, but he liked how dominant you were, after a life of him being on top, him being the dominant one, he liked this, a lot. You give him another soft kiss before moving down to his neck to kiss it and lick it, preparing it.

Reader-“don’t worry, I won’t take all of it, just enough”

With that you sink your teeth into his neck right there in the street, the only things lighting the two of you being the moon, and both of your burning desires. König let’s out a hiss of pleasure when your teeth puncture his skin. It didn’t hurt, in fact it was…pleasurable, tingling. He trembled with every gulp of blood you took. Another wave of arousal grew in him, his cock hardening in his pants.you reach your hand down between his legs and rub his hard cock through his pants as you growl into his neck while you drain him. Finally, you slowly pull your teeth away, blood dripping from your mouth as you continue to rub his cock.

Reader-“how was it”

You trace the teeth holes with your other hand, still stroking him with your other.

König-“it was good, really good”

He moans and whimpers under your touch, still going crazy from your bite as he bucks into your hand.

Reader-“someone is excited”

You smile as your hand slips into his pants, feeling his pre cum covered, rock solid cock, he’s already on the edge.

Reader-“makes me wonder why you fought for so long”

You whisper and squeeze his balls a little as you stare into his eyes, blood still dripping form your lips

König-“I-i don’t know, I-i never should’ve… Ficken”

He groans as he feels your hands and himself about to explode. When you see that, you sink your teeth into his neck again, with no warning, giving him the best orgasm of his life, hot seed spews out of his cock and onto your hand and the inside of his pants, tears start to fall from his eyes as he’s overwhelmed with emotion. You pull your mouth away from his neck and your hand out of his pants, covered in his hot, sticky seed. You bring it up to your mouth and lick it off your hand, savoring ever drop and making sure könig can see.

Reader-“your cum is almost as good as your blood”

You smile as you see his face, panting, pathetic and contorted from pleasure. You take a little bit of his left over cum onto your fingers and put them in his mouth, making him taste himself, just so he remembers you’re in control. He sucks on your fingers for a second till you pull them out of his mouth.

Reader-“I’ll be back here in a few days, I wouldn’t mind if you were too”

You smile and turn, leaving him to pick up his own pieces. Like that, you were gone.

König-“yeah I-I’ll come back too”

He stutters as he tries to regain composure.

To him, this is the start to the best relationship of his life, and you? Well I guess he’ll have to wait till you come back ;)

#cod x reader #vampire #smut #18+ only #m4m #gay #bisexual #cod smut #könig smut #konig call of duty #konig x male reader #könig x reader #konig cod #konig smut #monster fucker #monster smut #könig fanfiction #cod fanfic #fanfic

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sanicsmut · 2 days

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Gojo Satoru x Confident!Plus Size!Reader

Warnings : she/her reader, fatphobia, mention of food but it’s not related to reader’s weight, use of the word ‘fat’ but positively. I don’t know if it could be considered slight angst if reader isn’t affected by the fatphobia.

Words: 733

Robin’s comment: We need more fics with a fat reader who doesn't feel bad about being fat and doesn't doubt being hot even when confronted with fatphobia. It’s pretty short. I don’t have the attention span to write a long and coherent thing, so I hope it’ll be enough. Keep in mind that I don’t actually write that much, and that english isn’t my first language and I don't have a beta reader. If the use of the word 'fat', even in a positive way, is triggering for you i'd advise you to not read this.

Like every day, you decided to visit your boyfriend during his break. He wasn’t on a mission, thankfully, which meant you could steal more time with him. You walked through the streets of Tokyo, your black skirt fluttering in the wind as you walked. You thanked your past self for thinking about wearing shorts, you didn’t want all of Tokyo to see your backside, this was a privilege for your boyfriend after all. Your handbag was filled with all kinds of sweets for him — how else would you thank him for being the best partner you’ve ever had ?

You were passing a café near Jujutsu High when you heard people laughing. You didn’t pay attention to it, initially, but when you heard the words ‘whale’ and other very funny — sarcasm — comparisons. It was true, you were fat. Yes, fat, not chubby or plus sized. No, fat, and not in the ‘norm fitting’ way that would make you an acceptable type of fat in the eyes of skinny people and the beauty norms, no you were… just you. Fat. You always said it wasn’t a bad word, people said skinny with no negative connotation after all, so why not fat ? And you weren’t ashamed of it, you loved your body, you loved how your clothes looked on you, you loved your fat and your rolls and even your stretch marks and everything that came with being bigger than average. Really. But that pride didn’t stop stupid and ignorant people from commenting on your physical appearance as if it was the funniest shit ever.

You turned your gaze to a table in front of the café and, surely, a group of people was sitting there. Boys and girls alike were laughing, some looking not very subtly in your direction. You walked towards them and they all fell silent.

“A whale, huh?” You said. You almost wanted to laugh at their dumbfounded expressions.

“We… uh… We weren’t talking about you.” One of the boy managed to say awkwardly. He kept looking everywhere but you.

“Oh but you were. What did you say?” You asked, looking at the girl sitting right next to him. “What was it? There’s gonna be an earthquake if I keep walking?”

She shrunk in her seat. You could be very intimidating when you wanted to.

“That’s funny.” You commented, not looking amused in the slightest. “Now let me tell you. All of you. You’re lucky I’m not ashamed of being fat. As a matter of fact, I’d say I’m pretty hot. So your comments don’t do shit to me. However, there are people out there who aren’t as confident as I am. Do you have any idea of the impact these kinds of comments can have on someone? Do you think people can choose to be fat ot not? Do you think we don’t know we’re fat? Do you think saying this will change our life and create a miracle maybe? It’s our life, our bodies, right? If you’re disgusted by fat people, you’re the problem. Go see a fucking therapist and work on your inner insecurities, because this is pathetic.”

Silence.

“It’s easy to talk when you think we can’t hear you, but you fall silent when I’m confronting you?”

You scoffed.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway. Next time you see someone who doesn’t fit your beauty standards, maybe keep if for yourself because nobody cares. And try not to insult them, I doubt you’d appreciate if I commented on your very obvious physical flaws.”

They all looked pretty uncomfortable, you simply threw them another condescending glance before walking away. What a group of stupid idiots.

“Now that was pretty hot.”

You could recognize that voice anywhere.

“Satoru!” You exclaimed, beaming.

You turned around and, surely, he was here in all his glory.

“You were a bit late so I went outside to wait for you.” He grinned, taking you in his arms. “I’m glad to see my beautiful girlfriend is still as fiery as ever.”

You practically melted in his embrace, pressing a kiss on his lips.

“I couldn’t let them think they could get away with this.”

“And you did a good job, sweetheart, I’m proud of you. I'd say no one can mess with my girlfriend, but at this point you don't even need me to defend you.”

You smiled, leaning away just enough to take the sweets out of your bag.

“Here, for being the best boyfriend ever.”

“Are you trying to make me fall in love even more?” He said lightheartedly. “Thanks, wanna share them?”

“Gladly.”

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #plus size!reader #reader insert #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic

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kpopaussieline · 3 days

Text

It's a Bet

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Afab!Reader, mutual masturbation, pet names (babe, baby, pretty girl, honey, sweetheart, princess), unprotected sex (DON'T), creampie

Synopsis: You and Wooyoung made a bet with your friends that you could keep your hands to yourselves for a week. But that's easier said than done...

A/n: The polls have spoken! Here's the Wooyoung fic as promised <33

∆°^°∆*^*∆°^°∆*^*∆°^°∆*^*∆°^°∆

You groaned and hit your head against the kitchen counter.

Wooyoung didn't notice. He was in the next room, all his attention on the TV.

You looked up at him, biting your lip. He was so 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯. 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘦.

He knew it, you knew it, everyone knew it.

Yeah, you'd hit the lottery and people often told you how lucky you were. But having a gorgeous boyfriend had its downsides. He could use his looks against you. Like he'd been doing for the past week.

You two never really took your hands off each other. Even when you weren't cuddling on the couch or intertwined in bed, Wooyoung had to at least be holding your hand or have his hand on the small of your back. Your friends had teased you both for it and it led to a bet that you could go without affection or sex for a week straight.

You were confident at the time, but you regretted it now. You'd been feeling pent up since day two, and staring at him now— his black hair falling in his face, man-spreading in his baggy pants— was not helping matters.

Wooyoung was a cheeky asshole so naturally he'd been doing everything he could to tease you. Walking around shirtless. Practising those sensual choreos until sweat dripped off his skin. Stripping and getting in the shower while you were still using the bathroom. You tried not to let it get to you, but your resolve was fading.

From his spot on the sofa, Wooyoung threw his head back and moaned— "stretching". You gritted your teeth and clenched your thighs. You glared at him, both with lust and annoyance.

That's it. You turned and started storming toward the bedroom, ready to put the vibrator to use.

"Babe," Wooyoung's voice called out, stopping you in your tracks. "Come here a sec, will you?"

You sighed before turning on your heel and going into the living room.

Wooyoung's gaze followed your every move. A smirk pulled up the corner of his lips as you stood in front of him, seeming on edge as you fixed him with an irritated look. You didn't mean to. You were just feeling so horny that it'd given you resting bitch face because you couldn't act on it.

"Yes?" You tried to sound civil and not like everything about him right then made you want to pounce on him.

Wooyoung tilted his head. "You're not taking this bet well at all... are you, honey?"

No fucking shit, thanks to you. You restrained an eye roll. "You could say that," you said in a strained tone.

"Hm. Do you need to get off, pretty girl?"

His words went straight to your core. You didn't answer, but he read it in your face.

He chuckled under his breath, an amused rumble in his throat. "How wet are you right now, princess?"

Your eyes flickered to the floor, your fingers pinching the hem of your shirt.

"Show me."

Your head snapped up. "What?"

Wooyoung smirked and you instantly knew you were screwed. "Get on your knees, princess, and show me how wet you are."

Who were you to resist? You quickly stepped out of your jeans, revealing the black thong you wore underneath. You sank to your knees in a W pose while Wooyoung's lustful eyes watched on.

Maintaining eye contact, your hand snaked down your panties and your fingers brushed against your swollen clit. You moaned softly at the contact, your lips parting and eyes drifting shut for a second.

When you opened your eyes, Wooyoung was already pulling out his cock. You smirked at the idea that he'd been suffering just as much as you.

Your fingers went to work, rubbing your clit and dipping into your dripping pussy. You let out a series of quiet moans that mixed with Wooyoung's, accompanied by the lewd but tempting noises of him fucking his fist.

It felt good, but it wasn't enough. The two fingers stroking your walls could never compare to the delicious fullness that his dick gave you. You couldn't reach your cervix like his tip could, or hit your g-spot like he could. You just knew that after holding off so long he could have you seeing stars within minutes.

You withdrew your fingers from your country and watched Wooyoung for a second. He looked so pretty like that— his hand tight around his throbbing cock, working the mixture of spit and precum up and down his shaft. His head thrown back against the couch, jaw slack and eyes closed, his hair falling in his eyes.

You stood up and slipped off your panties before making your way to the sofa. You gently seized Wooyoung's wrist and stopped his ministrations. He looked up at you with lidded eyes, confused. You smiled and straddled his lap, hovering your pussy just over his leaking tip. He groaned, placing his hands on your hips, ready to guide you.

"What about the bet?" he questioned, his voice hoarse. You could tell he was too preoccupied thinking about getting off to even try and sound cocky.

You slowly lowered yourself onto his cock, feeling that familiar stretch. "To hell with the bet," you said, biting your lip as you took in his length. "I need you now. And I know you need me too." The two of you let out a satisfied sigh as he bottoms out.

Wooyoung's fingers dug into your hips as they rocked against him. He groaned as his lips landed on your neck, suckling at the skin.

"You're not wrong there," he murmured.

You picked up pace, alternating between grinding and bouncing on his cock. As predicted you felt your high approaching fast. And going by the tension in Wooyoung's body, he was getting closer too.

You shifted slightly, finding a position where his tip stimulated your g-spot perfectly. You sped up, ignoring the ache in your thighs. Your moans grew louder, joining the wet sounds of your pussy sucking in his dick.

Wooyoung slipped a hand between your bodies and toyed with your clit as he left small hickeys and bite marks on your collarbone. That sent you over the edge, your high hitting you like a truck. You moaned out loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you collapsed against him. He continued rubbing your clit and bucking his hips, working you through your orgasm as he chased his own. With your cum coating his cock, he wasn't far behind you. It only took two more thrusts before he was painting your walls white.

There was a moment of silence, penetrated only by your heavy breaths and the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You smiled against Wooyoung's neck before giving it a quick kiss.

"Thanks, baby. I needed that."

He laughed breathlessly and planted a kiss on your temple. "No problem, sweetheart." Then he whispered in your ear, his usual cocky tone having returned. "But you're the one telling our friends you lost the bet."

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #wooyoung hard thoughts #wooyoung hard hours #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fic #Spotify

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slytherheign · 13 hours

Text

AFTERGLOW | charles leclerc

PART 3/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: the dark nights may have already passed but the biggest storm is just beginning. the daylight is becoming harder to be seen, and now you see yourself questioning if love will be enough to conquer all—even the afterglow.

WARNINGS: angst, hate, doubts, cursing/swearing, and arguments. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S FINALLY HERE! this is way overdue and i apologize. i owe you guys a lot of fics for being absent for way too long. this is dedicated to ALL of you! thank you guys so much for the never-ending support.

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

At first, it was just a few comments here and there, snide remarks about your differences—how Charles was way too good for you or how you didn't fit into society's expectations. You brushed them off, laughed them away, thinking that their words couldn't penetrate the walls you had built around the two of you.

But little did you know how wrong you were.

The online hate began to escalate, turning into a relentless storm that seemed to follow you wherever you went. Your private moments were invaded, dissected, and judged by people who had no right to pass such harsh judgment. Their words became a constant presence, infecting your mind, and sowing seeds of doubt and insecurity.

“So, she basically has nothing… and then she decides to date Charles, who obviously, has everything. I don’t know about y’all… but I feel like she’s just dating him because she knows he can provide for her.”

“She’s giving me golddigger vibes.”

“No cause fr what the hell did she do to get Charles to fall for her.”

Your eyes were glued to your phone while Charles was making dinner. No matter what application you seemed to open, you were all over social media. After Charles decided to launch your relationship to the public, both your names became trending ever since.

“Chérie, do you know where the pasta is?” he asked. He was opening the cabinets in the kitchen quite loudly but all the noises were drowned out as you scrolled further down the comments.

“Imagine this… she leaves everything, including her family and friends, just to focus on herself. What makes us think she wouldn’t do the same to Charles?”

“Selfish. That’s one word I would describe her.”

Your hands began to shake and you felt the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Nevermind. Chérie, I found it!” he cheered.

This time, you heard his voice. Yet again noticing how accomplishing little things seemed to cheer him up. God, he was such a light. His soul was so pure and innocent.

“Charles needs to leave her while it’s still early omg.”

“Give her a few months and we’ll see just how much she’d damage him.”

Now that you were thinking about it, it seemed that everyone you come across with ends up in ruins. It was always dreams before relationships for you, life before love, and self before others.

Maybe they were right. You were selfish.

“Either she leaves him or Charles leaves her first. I hope it’s the second one.”

“He needs to escape. She’ll hurt him more the longer he’s with her.”

The more you read their words, the more they were becoming true in your head.

“Charles does not deserve someone like her. I said what I said.”

You glanced at him, his back facing you as he cooked dinner. He was humming a song, a soft song he would always play on his piano for you. It was impossible to stop the tears that started falling.

You were scared.

Scared that what they said was true and that the longer you were in his life, the more you’d damage him.

You were scared for him.

And scared of you.

“Pls even her best friend, Charlotte, is better than her.”

“If I was him, I’d leave right this instant.”

You didn’t want to damage him. You didn’t want to taint someone so pure.

What you wanted to do was protect him. Protect him from harm, protect him from any damages, protect him from getting hurt…

“We need to protect Charles from her.”

But what if they were right?

They were his fans for a reason. They care for him.

Surely, they know what’s best for him…

“When is girlie going to realize that she’s the problem.”

They were right.

You were the problem.

You were the harm, the person who does the damage, the person who would hurt him.

“I hope they break up. It’s what’s best for Charles.”

Charles took the phone in your hand and threw it on the wall. You stared at him in shock. How long was he behind you? You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Did he see the comments you were reading?

“What the hell are you reading, mon amour?” he asked angrily. But when he noticed you crying, he softened his voice. “I was calling your name, asking you to taste the sauce. You weren’t answering so I decided to come here.”

You stared at your broken phone on the floor. He followed your line of sight.

“I can replace it. Don’t worry about it.”

He put his hand on your cheek, moving your face so you were facing him.

“I-I don’t know what the other comments said, I only read about the last few ones,” he wiped your tears. “And I can assure you, I won’t break up with you. I’ll never do that.”

“Maybe you should,” you replied.

“Mon amour, I understand what you’re feeling right now. You’re not used to online hate and strangers on the internet criticizing you, but I am. And the best thing we can do is ignore them. They have no idea what happens behind closed doors and cameras. They know nothing.”

“Charles, they’re your fans. They were there for you even before I came into your life.”

“That doesn’t mean they know everything about me.”

“I don’t know, Charles…” you turned your face away from him, his hands dropping from your face in the process. You slightly distanced yourself from him.

Their words were poison and they went straight to your head. It was painful to admit, but you started questioning the strength of your relationship. How could you build a future amidst the chaos and resentment? You tried not to pay them attention, to convince yourself that love could conquer all, but the weight of the hate grew heavier with each passing day.

“Do I really mean that little to you?” Charles asked suddenly.

You blew things out of proportion, and now he was blue.

You looked back at him but you kept your distance.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re just throwing everything away like the last two years didn’t exist.”

“Charles, no–that’s not—” you walked closer to him but he was the one who distanced himself this time.

“I’ve fought for this relationship, for you—time and time again. And you can’t do the same?”

You were speechless.

You put him in jail for something he didn't do.

“I told you countless times, I can protect you—I will protect you. Don’t you trust me enough?” he continued.

You pinned his hands behind his back.

“Charles, it’s not about you protecting me… because I know you will. It’s about—”

“It’s about what?” he stared at you, his eyes glistening with tears he was trying hard to keep from falling.

Thought you had reason to attack, but no.

You looked at him with tears, lips quivering as you prepared to say the words.

“It’s about what, Y/N?” Charles held your face with his hands, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “It’s about what?” his voice was shaking. “Tell me, chérie… please?”

Fighting with a true love was like boxing with no gloves.

“It’s about me protecting you, Charles,” you whimpered. “Maybe the things that they’re saying are true—maybe you need to run away from me before I leave you. Maybe I-I’m not truly what you need…”

You covered his hands with yours. “Charles… maybe we should just—”

Chemistry 'til it blew up, 'til there's no you and him anymore.

“No,” he answered.

“Charles, I think—”

“I know what you’re thinking. And no—that’s my final answer.”

He let go of you and started to pace the room.

“Charles—”

“We’ve made it this far… and you’re just going to give up now?” he stared at you, looking at your eyes for some sort of indication that everything was just a joke. All of his defenses broke and he didn’t even care if his tears started to fall.

Why'd you have to break what you loved so much?

“I hurt everyone I get close to. Charles, I’m just trying to protect you. Please–”

“I don’t need your fucking protection! You! I need you!” he screamed in frustration.

And then he did something you didn’t expect.

He kneeled in front of you, holding your hands as he begged you not to leave him.

“Mon amour, just fight for us. Please, that’s only what I ask.”

“Oh, Charles… I really don’t deserve you.”

“Please, just stay with me… I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave me, mon amour, just s-stay, please.”

“Charles, p-please don’t cry, I-I can’t see you cry—stand up, please,” you cried.

It was on his face, the clear image of pain, and you were the one to blame. At that moment, you thought of every possible way this argument would end. You were already hurting him right now, what more would you do if you stayed? How much pain would you cause?

Charles stood up and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?” he paused, turning your face so that your eyes were looking at his. “When they say all that shit about you? When they drag your name through the mud? When they feast over you on the internet? Do you think it doesn’t hurt me?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“It hurts me too,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “But I can’t control what they say. If I could, I would’ve done it way too long ago.”

“Charles…”

“This is the way the world works, Y/N. You have to realize that people say what they want to say and people do what they want to do. Everything is done with a choice.”

He finally opened his eyes, pulling away from you and wiping his tears. He stayed standing in front of you, but he now maintained a distance.

“Y/N…”

You couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt when he called you by your name instead of the pet names he loved to call you.

“I can’t fight for a relationship when the other one’s already giving up,” he said.

“You deserve someone way better than me,” you cried. “Look what I’m doing, I’m already hurting you right now. I would just hurt you even more in the future.”

Instead of him getting sad, his face showed a different emotion. It was blank, it was as if the emotions that blew up moments ago exhausted him.

“If you decide to stay or not, just know that I love you.”

ONE WEEK LATER.

You fucking hated yourself.

What the fuck did you just do?

Why didn’t you stay that night and why did you have to break what you loved so much?

You tried living without his presence for a week and it was horrible. You convinced yourself that you would eventually get used to a life without the warmth of his body next to yours or the sweet messages he would send every day. It was getting hard to reassure yourself that this was the way it was meant to be—you, away from him—when the only name your heart was calling was his.

You were miserable. You were breathing but you felt like you were already dead because your life had been taken away from you.

And you only have yourself to blame.

The truth was, you were weak. Each time you experience a block in the road, you immediately turn away. And you were ashamed of yourself for that. You were scared of losing Charles so you pushed him away. You left him before he could realize he needed to leave you.

You were regretting every single thing you did.

You regretted how you lived like an island, how you punished him with silence, how you went off like sirens, but above all, you regretted how you walked away.

Now you found yourself in front of his home, shaking as you slowly raised your hand to knock on the door. You hoped he was inside.

You knocked on the door hoping it was not too late. The door opened slowly after a few minutes, and after a week of no interaction, you finally saw him.

He was in the same state as you, maybe even worse. It was evident on his face that he spent most of his time crying. His eyes which were full of life before became lifeless, and he gave you the most lethargic look.

You wanted to hurt yourself because you knew you did that to him.

“Can I come inside, please?” you pleaded.

He stepped aside from the door and walked straight to the couch, not even sparing you a single glance. You followed him, sitting beside him as silence consumed the two of you.

“Hey,” you couldn’t help but cry as you looked at him. He had his head in his hands and you knew he was stopping himself from crying. “I’m sorry,” you said. “You don’t have to talk, I just want you to listen.”

When he didn’t move, you took that as a sign to continue. Honestly, you didn’t know where to start but you just let your heart guide you on what words you needed him to hear.

“It’s all me, Charles. I’m sorry,” you stated. “It’s all me, in my head—I burned us down. I know I said a lot of stupid things but it’s not what I meant. And I—” you wiped a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

He stayed still, hands still covering his face. You wanted him to look at you, but you knew you were in no position to tell him what to do when you were the reason he was this way. And so, you just continued to speak, hoping that deep inside his heart, he would find it in himself to forgive you.

“At that moment, I felt like the walls were closing in on me and the world was spinning out of control. I let my emotions take over and lashed out in ways that were unreasonable and unfair. I see now that I projected my own fears onto you, and I regret it. I regret everything I said that day. I let my assumptions take control and I assumed the worst without giving you the benefit of the doubt. I realize now that I sabotaged something beautiful, something we had worked so hard to build together.

“I didn’t want to do this to you. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for my overreaction. I'm aware of the impact it had on you, and I understand that you are hurt and feeling distant. But please, Charles, give me a chance to make it right. Give me a chance to show you that I’m capable of growth and that I’m learning from my mistakes.

“I can't promise that I won't make mistakes in the future, but I can assure you that I will do everything in my power to communicate openly and honestly and I will seek to understand your perspective before jumping to conclusions.

“I don’t want to lose you, Charles. I know trust takes time to rebuild, and I’m willing to put in the effort. You’re right, you’re always right— our love is worth fighting for. Please forgive me for being too weak, for walking away instead of staying. I misplaced my hurt and anger and I hurt you. I love you, Charles, please, at least look at me?” you pleaded.

And he did. He finally looked up. His eyes were red from crying as he held your hands in his. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear from you. For you to say that you’re willing to fight for us. I needed you to realize that for us to work, we have to meet each other halfway.”

“I know, and again, I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“Thank you,” he cried, cupping your cheek with his hand.

“For what?” you asked him.

“For coming back.”

You smiled at each other, leaning in for a kiss when you both got distracted by the light that suddenly shined through his large window.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sky, you both stood side by side at the window. The afterglow of the sun painted the room in warm tones, filling the space with a sense of something you haven’t felt for a long time… peace.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hand intertwined with his. You watched in awe as the last rays of sunlight danced across the clouds, creating breathtaking shades of colors. For a moment, you swore the sky was pink.

"It's like nature's painting," you whispered, voice filled with wonder.

Charles nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the ever-changing canvas before the two of you. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he replied softly.

The two of you simply stood there, lost in the beauty of the moment. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the quiet serenity of the evening. As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle overhead, you both reluctantly tore your gazes away from the window. But the memory of the afterglow of the sun lingered in your hearts, a reminder of the beauty that surrounded you each day.

For the longest time, you let hate consume you. It was like this dark cloud hanging over your head. You were so focused on what they all had to say that you forgot to appreciate what was right in front of you.

But then, something shifted. Maybe it was a moment of clarity or a whisper of wisdom from somewhere deep within. Or maybe it was him, Charles, that made you realize that conforming to hate wasn't getting you anywhere. It wasn’t making you happy, it wasn't bringing you peace. All it was doing was tearing you apart, piece by piece.

And in that moment of realization, everything changed. You finally made a choice—a choice to let go of the hate and embrace love instead. You knew it wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn’t something that happens overnight, but you were determined to commit.

You were beginning to see the beauty in the world around you. The fact that it could be the laughter of real friends, the warmth of the sun on your skin, or the gentle touch of a loved one's hand—you realized that true love was everywhere, if only you were willing to open your eyes and see it.

So now, you were choosing love by choosing him. You chose to appreciate the little moments of joy, the simple pleasures of life. You chose to let go of anger and resentment, and instead, filled your heart with kindness and compassion.

You would soon forgive your family.

Because in the end, love is all that really mattered. It was what connected us, what bound us together as human beings. And when we embrace it, when we let it guide us, we would find out that life is so much sweeter, and so much more meaningful.

So here's to love—in all its forms, in all its beauty.

And here’s to Charles, your lover.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx @c-losur3

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld96 @princessria127

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 1 day

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does it have to be angst? i was gonna ask for married levi/reader with kids post war but 🥺🙏🏻 for angst maybe it could be about his injuries, with reader giving comfort?

Providing Comfort {Levi Ackerman}

A/n: thank you for requesting. Generally you can request whatever you want but I don't think I would actually write the request with him having kids. Anyways. I hope you like the comfort one.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of injuries, self doubt, low confidence, mentions of not liking oneself, mentions of painkillers

You knew the first months after the war were going to be the most difficult ones. It wasn't just because of the fact that everyone would have to get used to the new world but also because of the trauma everything had left behind.

"Just give me another... one of those little damn things." Levi groaned and despite your attempts to help him lie back down on the bed, he sat back up.

"Aspirins?" You let out a sigh and sat next to him.

The most difficult part in reality was trying to help the most stubborn man you knew with getting accustomed to his new daily life. For better or for worse, Levi refused to follow or at least understand the orders the doctor had given him. On one hand, it was understandable; he was used to constantly moving, training, going on expeditions and fighting, there was no way he could accept laying in bed all day in order to heal his injuries. On the other... it saddened you. He was colder than he had ever been, barely talking to anyone and when he did, his words cut deeper than any knife.

"Whatever that is. Just give it to me."

He had started making progress though, you had to admit at least that. In the beginning he wouldn't even tell you when or where he was in pain. It was like a guess game, you would squeeze his knee and pray the pain was too much for him to try and hold back any groans or expressions.

Most of the times it worked.

Then he figured out that he could take aspirins whenever he was in pain and ever since then he refused to let them go. But the doctor's visit yesterday had left him with zero options than to stop taking them.

"The doctor said no, Levi."

"Couldn't care less."

And you couldn't do much about it either. Even batting heads with him felt strange since having been under his command for so long usually meant him giving the orders and not vice versa.

"Maybe doing the exercises the doctor told you would help with the pain... just saying." A small awkward pause followed, small enough to feel as if centuries had passed until Levi shook his head. It didn't need a lot of thinking to figure out why he refused.

The following days after the war ended, Levi and who knows how many others were in the hospital. Unlike some people and like others, Levi didn't get out of there unscathed. The only injury he had partly accepted was his missing fingers which was both because it occured before the war started and also because he proved to himself that he can still do everything just perfect without having all five fingers.

Neither you nor him understood how you came to live with each other but unbeknownst to you, it was more of a comfort than a nuissance to him. However, he still had his... issues. The last thing he wanted was an old member of his team to see him at his worst. Not even Erwin had achieved something like that.

"I can help. I promise it will only help with the pain."

As much as he hated it, it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

"All you had to do was ask."

Helping him with his exercises didn't take more than half an hour. Levi was a perfectionist and you knew it. He wasn't doing it to get the pain to go away but to prove to himself that he was in charge of his body. All of his life consisted of constantly proving something to himself.

"Are you planning on nagging me about it?" He reached out for the hot cup of tea you had prepared for him with a sigh.

"Maybe." You replied with a smile.

He had made much more of a progress than you had imagined. Not once had you imagined you'd see him finally relax his shoulders and lean back on the couch comfortably, holding his cup of tea in his peculiar way.

"Go on then."

It would take much more time to completely open up to you, let you provide him with proper comfort but for now and for the past few weeks, he was fine with you talking his ear out. It kept him mind off the pain and in one way or another it felt more comforting than the warm cup of tea he was holding.

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knavesflames · 3 days

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Hey knavesflames. New follower here.

Hope you are having a great day.

This is my first time ever requesting a writing and I know you could cook up a wonderful piece with it.

So basically got this idea after listening to Mitski's Washing Machine Heart (yes my life is mitski coded). So anyways, the prompt goes like how Arlecchino views the reader as a replacement for the Clervie, something along those lines (and the lyrics of the above mentioned song). All three of them were also living together in the House of Hearth during the reign of the previous Knave (I forgot her name) who Arlecchino defeated.

(I don't know if anyone else have come up with this idea).

Would love to see an angst filled story with this.

Thank you!!!!!

P.S - love your writings💙

Hello! My day is fine thank you:) the fact you trust me to cook here made me smile very much, I hope I cooked enough. Thank you for liking my stuff!!

Contents: angst, non graphic moment of sex that just turns sad as hell, arlecchino sharpen urself up

Word count: 2873

Fic under the cut:D

She was different from you and Clervie. You and Clervie were very similar, most of the kids called you twins. Happy, cheerful, protective, always talking to the other children. Peruere was not like that. She was reserved, almost cold-blooded, quiet. It quickly became obvious she cared about you both when she would quietly invite you to watch her spider do something, or when she would catch three fish instead of one, because you and Clervie were simply too loud for one to stay still. You were a trio, one the entire House of the Hearth knew, and ‘Mother’ knew. She let you all be friends, for now. But it didn’t mean she stopped punishing Clervie. If anything, she was punished more. Often coming back to your room (where you all mostly sat, because your room was the biggest) with shaky hands and a tight lipped smile after having a photo frame thrown at her, or a red face where ‘Mother’ had slapped her. Or, as she got older, even worse, when she would come back with cuts and scrapes that you and Peruere would bandage for her silently. You learned that making the bandages look pretty cheered her up, despite her always having an outward smile. And when she opened the window that night, promising that you’d all go to Snezhnaya and see the dancing lights in the sky, something in Peruere changed that day.

She became more protective, more cautious of things.. when Clervie was involved. As you entered your teenage years, you would often come back to your room, devoid of people, only to hear two people giggling in the next one. You were still a trio, you always had been and always will be. But growing up means indulging in feelings, and they seemed to have more feelings for each other than for you. They were not cruel, no. They did not mean for it to be this way. They invited you out on walks and you caught fish together like usual, but it just felt.. different. The small jokes they made, clearly private jokes you didn’t and wouldn’t understand did not go unnoticed. Neither did the small pit of loneliness that began growing inside of you. You were jealous, yes. Your two best (and only) friends seemed to like each other more than they liked you, if only in a romantic sense, and they let it cloud them when they were with you too. A bitter person, you are not, so you endured it. You still loved and cared for both of them (especially Peruere, but you refused to let Clervie feel the way you felt then) and wanted the best for them, you just wished that for a second, things could go back to the way they were.

But they didn’t. Especially not when you and Peruere stood frozen over Clervie’s fallen body, both of you trembling and breathing fitfully. ‘Mother’’s fight to be king has finally infiltrated your friendship, and Clervie was the one to fall. With Peruere holding the blade, you were convinced you’re next, with your eyes widened and filled with unshed tears (though, the past couple of years, all of your tears have been unshed).

“Peruere, please don’t.”

“I’m going to murder her.”

“..who?”

“Mother.”

“Moth-..”

Your voice trails off as it shakes, your ears thoroughly listening to Peruere’s admittance of her plan, of the future matricide she did in fact go on to commit. You were the one to bury Clervie and place lumidouce bells around her body, closing her eyes and placing the small teddies you three had of each other next to her. Arlecchino was the one who avenged her, brutally murdering her before quickly being imprisoned.

Eventually, after taking Crucabena’s place as the Knave, after becoming ‘Father’, changing her name to Arlecchino, you both began dating. A drunken night turned into dating and living together. Perhaps it was grief stricken, perhaps she really did feel that type of affection for you, the way you have for her for so long. The way you have silently yearned for her has not gone unnoticed by the people around you. What is also noticed, what has been noticed since the day you met Clervie, is your similarities. You both are very similar, you always have been. Kind, cheerful, you both even say the same things, enjoy the same foods. Most used to joke that you were secretly twins, you and Arlecchino know that, but the joke came to an end when Clervie met hers. It was never spoken of again, and neither was she. Barely, anyway. Years went past, and it seemed both of you were happy in the relationship you both had carved from tragedy. Though, you ignored the niggling feeling in your chest when Arlecchino would come home and surprise you with a bouquet of flowers. It wasn’t the fact you received flowers, no, that made your heart warm. It was about which flowers and what she said along with it.

“I saw some lumidouce bells as I walked home. Here, dear, your favourite.”

The phrase alone is all good and well, but.. they are not your favourite flowers. They never have been. You have always preferred lakelight lilies, and she should have known that after over a decade knowing you. Lumidouce bells were the favourite of Clervie, not you. The strange feeling in your chest swells with every new bouquet you receive, until receiving flowers is no longer a pleasant thing. The feeling is pushed back again and again, until she comes home one evening, the keys jingling against the door. The familiar sound of the paper around the bouquet is audible again, and you feel your stomach sink slightly when you see the familiar lumidouce bells.

“Look what the florist had today, dear.”

“So they did. Thank you, love.”

You take them with a small lump in your throat and a tight smile, delicately placing them in water and giving one a small pat, a habit you picked up many years ago as a nod to your best friend. Your mind wanders, though, and eventually, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Did they have any lakelight lilies?”

“They always do. Why?”

You wonder why she doesn’t buy those instead.

“No, no reason. They’re pretty, don’t you think?”

You are not talking about the flowers when you ask this, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling softly. She glances up with the faintest smile of her own before continuing to undo her heels, the heels you know she has killed many with.

“Not as pretty as lumidouce bells, in my opinion.”

You have to turn swiftly to hide the twist of your expression, the hurt that flashes over it as you grit your teeth together so hard they should have turned to dust already. You manage out an “alright” before beelining towards the kitchen to make dinner. You don’t even know if she knew you were not asking about the appearance of the flowers, if she understood you were asking about your own, to try to find some affirmation in the sea of self loathing. It stung nonetheless, but you realise you cannot be angry if you didn’t say it outright. Still, the thought lingers, eating away at you as you zone out, letting your hands chop the carrot too finely before shaking yourself out of it. You can’t stay upset for long though, when her hands snake around you and she praises you for your food making skills, murmuring that it smells good. So, the thought is forgotten, left behind for a night of overthinking that will inevitably come. For now, though, for tonight, you enjoy dinner. Steak tartare, (you scrapped the carrot), laughing lightly when she draws an ‘x’ over it with sauce to match her eyes. The rest of the evening goes the way all of your evenings go. Contentedly, quietly. She agreed long ago to not bring Fatui doings into the home. You grew up with that and you don’t want to deal with that again, which she respects, so, you don’t speak about work, a relief for both you and her. You watch a movie, a boring movie neither of you really like, that leads to channelling the inner teenager and making out on the sofa. You can’t hide the giggle that escapes you when she lifts you up, carrying you and placing you on the bed before proceeding to undress you. Before long, you’re naked, moaning her name softly in pleasure, both names of hers. ‘Peruere’ is reserved only for this, only for moments of intimacy or when you’re alone. In return, she loves to whisper sweet nothings against the shell of your ear, enjoying the way your body squirms against her.

“It’s good. Please keep going.”

“Good girl. You’re so pretty, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Clervie.”

Oh.. oh. You freeze. She doesn’t. Despite her movements still continuing, the pleasure is gone as quickly as it came and your ears begin to ring as you pale. A shaky hand comes to her chest, pushing her away as you shake your head, swallowing hard.

“Stop. Stop it. I don’t want—“

She stops immediately, a concerned look on her face. Her hand moves to comfort you, to ask what’s wrong but your own hand slaps hers away gently.

“What…? What happened?”

The way you sit up, your once pink cheeks now pale, your eyes wide and your breathing shallow concerns her. When you don’t speak, she stays silent, staring at you as your mouth opens and closes. You know you heard her right, it was clearer than the sky in Fontaine during June. The worst part is that she doesn’t even realise she’s done it. Your stomach is twisting, your chest aching harder than it has in years as you finally manage to speak.

“You called me by her name.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

When you think about everything in hindsight, the way she (accidental or not is still hard to tell) indirectly said you weren’t pretty earlier with the flowers, and now, during sex of all things, told you that you were the prettiest girl she had ever seen, only to call you by someone else’s name makes you realise it wasn’t you she was talking to at all. She wasn’t calling you pretty, she was calling Clervie pretty. And she wasn't thinking about you at all. Suddenly, the fact you’re naked becomes all too apparent and your hands clutch at the various blankets, covering yourself out of insecurity. A wave of nausea fills you for a second before you speak again.

“I’m not her. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“I was naked underneath you and you were not even thinking of me.”

“I was, I..”

How many times has she thought about Clervie while having sex with you? How many times has she wished it was Clervie underneath her instead? Your brain begins a whirlwind of thoughts, barely giving each one time to form before another one comes. Then, the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, your shaky, quiet voice echoing the room and cutting through the awkward tension.

“Do you wish it was me that died instead of her? Do you even know me at all?”

“Of course I know you.”

She didn’t answer the first question, it dawns on you. It hurts too much to bring it up again, not when you know how her avoidance of the question is an affirmative.

“What is my favourite flower, Peruere?”

Her true name comes out of your mouth in what seems to be an attempt at a sneer, but ends up as a sad whisper, your voice quivering with the force of your contained tears. Arlecchino’s own voice is quiet, softer than it usually is.

“Lumidouce bells.”

“No.”

“You loved them as a child, you had a necklace—“

“No, Clervie had a necklace. I like lakelight lilies.”

Arlecchino’s own face pales slightly at the memory of your earlier question. The way your face looked at her with your crooked smile that held that slight tinge of hope, only for you to immediately turn (not before your face fell, she noticed that, but didn’t understand) and walk away. She goes to speak, but you cut her off, a tearful, small voice that’s so unlike you.

“When is my birthday?”

“April 23rd.”

“That is Clervie’s birthday. My birthday is in December.”

“But—“

“You don’t think I’m pretty. You think she is pretty. You have not moved on, you still love her. You— you do not love me and you do not know me at all.”

The silence that follows confirms everything, and a choked sob fills the air at the newfound knowledge. You let your head fall to your knees, quiet sobs wracking your frame as Arlecchino sits beside you, a hand hovering over your back.

“My dear.”

“Do not call me such a thing, Peruere. Not when it is not me you wish to be saying it to. Say my name. Say my name, and tell me you love me and mean it.”

“You must take a breath.”

She does not say it and your heart shatters.

“You do not say it because you can’t. You did not ever love me, you loved her. I am the closest thing you can get to her, so you settled for me and you live your life pretending I am her. What is it, exactly, about me that isn’t good enough compared to her? Why not me?”

“I don’t know. You are wonderful.”

“Yet I am not enough.”

“You are.”

“Not to you.”

The utter heartbreak and anguish in your voice rips through Arlecchino’s body. Not many things get to her like this but her best friend lover crying like this, the insecurity and shame radiating off of her body is heartbreaking to her and she feels the guilt rise in her stomach. You have your head buried into the blankets as your body wracks with soft cries. Being stabbed would hurt less than this, you think. Hurt less than being used to live in a fantasy where Clervie didn’t die.

“Should I go for a walk?”

“Yes, go.”

How enthusiastic your response was, she wonders. Though, she knows what she has done even without meaning to do it. She stands up, clothing herself silently before slipping out of the room. You hear her feet padding down the hall, and eventually her leaving the house and her softly muttering to herself as she passes the window. You want to hate her, you want to punch her and throw all of the flowers out of the window. At the same time, you can’t even bring yourself to think of looking in the mirror and seeing the face your girlfriend does not find pretty. Nor can you bring yourself to walk to your living room and find a picture of the face your girlfriend does find pretty. All you can bring yourself to do is dress yourself in the first clothes you can find before letting yourself fall back into bed, sniffling with a look of misery on your face. You wonder when she’s coming back. You wonder if she’s coming back at all. You wonder if you care. You do, but you wish you didn’t. You wish you didn’t love her the way she loves Clervie. Or, rather, you wish she loved you the way she loves Clervie.

#arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #genshin impact #arlechinno genshin #arlechinno x reader #arle #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin impact fic #Arle fic #arlecchino fic #arlecchino angst #genshin impact arlecchino #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader

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obsessivelyloved · 2 days

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This was requested on one of my nsfw blogs but I went insane and made it 3,000 words long. So I can post most of it here lol. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky. The ending is abrupt here bc the rest of it/the ending is nsfw. I was up til 5am writing this and I'm not writing a sfw ending for this blog until after i get more sleep.

Anon asks: I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor. Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down. BIG MISTAKE

___________________________________________________________

“You dropped this.”

The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand.

“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.

The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt.

“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.”

You give him another smile and walk past him. He seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read.

Løvik Tord

3 7 2 5 9

DOB: 1995

Age: 28

Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots

Eye: Silver

You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty.

CASE INFORMATION:

He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20).

You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file.

It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-

“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.”

You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?

The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you.

“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.”

You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder.

“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place?

You storm out of the breakroom and wander.

“I was hoping I’d see you again.”

Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down.

It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“You used to dye your hair?”

Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….

After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.”

“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

“I’m sorry?”

His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.

Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?”

Whatever it may be, you smile at him.

“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.”

(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”

It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind.

You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down.

Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash.

“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open.

You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze.

Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you.

Useless information floods your brain.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light.

He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-

He’s covered in blood.

Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face.

“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.”

#tw yandere #yandere tw #yandere tord #yandere tord x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere x female reader

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runnning-outof-time · 2 days

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A Special Woman | Tommy Shelby x Reader (featuring a very special guest)

Request: no - written for @look-at-the-soul ‘s The Grandma Series

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader & a very special guest

Summary: (Y/N)’s big day is made extra special by one of the most important people in her life.

Warnings: none

A/N: ok so there’s a lot of dancing happening here…I didn’t quite mean for it to be such a focal point, but I guess that’s what happens when you write fragments at a time. I hope it’s not overkill for y’all! I also wrote this envisioning it being set in modern times, but it could definitely be read in the PB period as well. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: I’m sorry it took me sooo long to write this, Mar but I knew that I wanted to participate in this lovely celebration of yours. I hope you like it!!

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Darling you look wonderful,” the older woman said to her granddaughter. It was probably the fourth time she’d assured her of it. “Stop fussing with your dress,” she then swatted the younger woman’s hands down.

“But what if it’s…”

“But nothing,” (Y/N) was brushed off yet again, “you’re dress is perfect. You’re perfect,” the older woman said as she moved to stand behind her. “Let me fix the back now.”

(Y/N) conceded, allowing her grandmother to work on getting the back of her dress tightened. She stood still as the buttons and ties were done up, her smile widening with each second that passed. This was really happening…soon enough she’d be married.

Her eyebrows furrowed together at the feeling of something cool being draped around her neck. She looked down and noticed that a small, light blue locket was now resting against her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes immediately as she realized exactly which locket this was.

This locket had been in her family since the day that her grandfather draped it around her grandmother’s neck. Inside of it was still a picture of the couple in their younger days. The love that was present between them in that photo still remained all of these years later. (Y/N) hoped that she’d have a love like that with the man she would soon vow to spend the rest of her life with.

“Gram…” she trailed off, getting choked up as she turned to look at the older woman.

“It’ll be your something blue,” her grandmother smiled back at her, “you wear it beautifully.”

“Thank you for allowing me to wear it,” (Y/N) said, wrapping her arms around the other woman then. “You know it’s always been one of my favorite pieces of yours,” she added once they pulled away from each other.

“Maybe I’ll get you one of your own then,” the older woman thought aloud, “you can add a photo of you and Thomas into it.”

The saying of her fiancé’s name was enough to set off butterflies in the bride-to-be’s stomach. She couldn’t help the little giddy dance she did before her grandmother took hold of her arms and squeezed them gently.

“Everything is ready for you now, (Y/N),” the event coordinator announced as she entered the dressing room.

(Y/N) acknowledged the statement before she turned back to her grandmother. The older woman instantly noticed the fact that nerves were seeping into her granddaughter’s features. She wouldn’t let them take over. “Let’s get you married,” she announced, sqeezing the younger woman’s arms once more before she led her out of the dressing room.

(Y/N) met with her mother and father in the lobby, accepting both of their arms so that they could help walk her down the aisle. She sent one last beaming smile to her grandmother, who waved at her before she entered the main area of the chapel to take her seat.

Tommy and (Y/N) found themselves on the dance floor directly after the wedding party introductions were made. They both knew that they’d share their first dance as a way to kick the reception off into full swing. A little bit of a calm before the storm, (Y/N) was calling it.

She enjoyed being held close by her husband. Even though all of their guests’ eyes were on them, she truly felt like she and Tommy were the only two people in the room.

“I’m happy all of that’s over,” Tommy mumbled into her ear, his cheek pressed against hers as they slowly swayed.

(Y/N) just had to pull her face away to see him clearly, her eyes slightly widened. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy our wedding ceremony, Thomas Shelby?” she asked, feigning shock.

Tommy’s lips tugged up into a smirk upon seeing her expression. “Oh I enjoyed it, love,” he assured her, tilting his head to the side and grimacing slightly before he finished his statement, “the attention of our families, not so much.”

A breath of a laugh left (Y/N)’s lips as she ran her hand down the lapel of his suit jacket. “For a man who thrives off of power and attention I must say that I’m quite surprised to hear that.”

“I would’ve been happy with it being just you and I, eloping and then telling our families after the fact.”

“I don’t think our families would have appreciated that,” she commented with a smile.

“Even better,” he grinned, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.

“Cake time!” (Y/N)’s mother exclaimed, prompting everyone to turn their attention to the newlyweds where they stood by their wedding cake. It was quite simple, a three-tiered cake that had silver and gold accents throughout its floral decorations.

Tommy and (Y/N) took hold of the cutting knife and together cut a piece of the cake from its bottom tier. Tommy held the plate between the two of them after making sure that (Y/N) had a fork.

“Clean or messy?” he asked, his words quiet enough so that only (Y/N) heard them.

“Clean…” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows and sending him a look that he immediately took as something along the lines of ‘messy later’.

“Cheeky,” he commented, winking at her before they both got a forkful of the cake.

“Whenever you’re ready!” her mom called, making the two remember that their party guests were still crowded around them. If there was one thing that (Y/N) and Tommy had down, it was that they were able to make each other feel as though they were the only people in the room.

The room broke out in applause as they cleanly placed the forkful of cake into each others mouth, and (Y/N) was easily able to distinguish Arthur’s wolf whistle amongst the cheers when Tommy leaned in and kissed her.

It was a bit later in the evening when (Y/N) saw that her grandmother was finally free. She’d been playing the role of social butterfly all night, meshing with Tommy’s family naturally. This may be the only time she was alone, so (Y/N) wasn’t going to wait a moment longer. “I’m going to go have a dance with gram, if that’s alright,” she told Tommy, making to leave the small group conversation they’d been pulled into.

“Go ‘head,” Tommy answered, sending her off with a soft smile.

“Shall we dance?” (Y/N) asked her grandmother as she approached her from the side.

“Oh!” the older woman exclaimed, surprised by the sudden voice. Her surprised expression quickly fizzled into a smile when she noticed who was beside her. “Of course, darling,” she hastily agreed, allowing her granddaughter to take her of her hand and lead her onto the dance floor.

“I see that you’re getting along with Tommy’s family fine,” (Y/N) made conversation as they swayed to the soft song.

“Swimmingly,” her grandmother smiled, glancing off to find Tommy, who was now talking with one of his brothers. “He’s good for you, (Y/N),” she added, looking back to her granddaughter.

“He is,” the younger woman agreed, smiling as she also snuck a glance over where her husband was. Her smile widened as she looked at her grandmother once more. “Thank you for all that you’ve done to help me today, gram,” she said.

“I want only the best for my granddaughter,” the older woman responded, her smile matching (Y/N)’s.

The sound of a throat being cleared made them both look to the side. Tommy was standing there, wearing a smile that made butterflies erupt in (Y/N)’s stomach. “May I steal her for a dance?” he asked, not addressing either of the ladies in particular.

“Of course,” (Y/N)’s grandmother immediately answered, stepping to the side so that he be able to take his bride’s hand.

“No, you,” he clarified, holding his hand out to the older woman.

“Really?” surprise was evident in her voice, “what a gentleman he is,” she then said to her granddaughter.

Tommy winked at his bride before he led her grandmother out onto the dance floor.

(Y/N) had to take a moment as she watched them begin to dance slowly. She quickly realized how grateful she was for those two people swaying out on the floor. She was grateful for Tommy; a man who she could love deeply and be loved deeply by. Those outside of their circle may not think that Tommy Shelby was capable of a love like that, but that was the Tommy Shelby that (Y/N) has the pleasure of knowing.

She was also grateful for her grandmother; a woman who was truly the cornerstone of her family. A woman who taught (Y/N) how to be the woman she is take. Her grandmother was truly special, and (Y/N) knew that without her, she wouldn’t know where she’d be.

MASTERLIST

Postnote: it ended rather abruptly there…I didn’t mean for that, but I’ve been hanging onto it for a looong time and wanted it to finally be out in the world. It’s also only loosely edited because…well I wanted to just get it posted already.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

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anonymousewrites · 2 days

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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Nineteen

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Toritsuka’s Possessions and Club

Summary: (Y/N) and Saiki get dragged into two of Toritsuka's schemes to try to get girls and decide to take matters into their own hands.

“You should tell him how you feel, Miko,” said a girl to her friend as they walked back.

“No way!”

“You should make a move.”

“He’s popular, you know.”

“Oh, there he is! Good luck.”

(Y/N) turned around to watch. “I wonder who the popular guy is—Oh.”

Hearing their surprise, Saiki turned around. Oh indeed. It was Toritsuka.

“Toritsuka, would you want to go to a movie with me?” said the girl nervously.

“Wow, is he actually getting a girl to go out with him?” said (Y/N). It was a strange development. Usually, girls avoided him after the novelty of meeting a medium wore off.

“Sure, let’s go,” said Toritsuka.

“You said you were going with me, too!” said another girl.

“I’m going with Reita, too!” said a third.

(Y/N) and Saiki exchanged glances. Now this was suspicious.

“Man, this is tough,” laughed Toritsuka. (Y/N) and Saiki had come up to him for an explanation after classes in the courtyard. The ghosts had told Toristuka (Y/N) knew about the whole “psychic powers” thing, so he talked openly in front of them (which was unfortunate, since he could be a real perv). “Being popular is harder than it looks.”

“It doesn’t look like it bothers you too much,” said Saiki.

“Well, in a sense, it is thanks to you, Saiki,” said Toritsuka.

“It is?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

“Absolutely not.” Saiki didn’t want (Y/N) thinking he was involved with any of Toritsuka’s terrible ideas.

“Remember how I performed at the school festival? It was a huge success,” said Toritsuka.

“What?” said Saiki incredulously.

“I was really bad at first,” admitted Toritsuka. “I even heard a weird sound and had no idea how I made it. But just when I was going to give up, he showed up.”

“Who?” asked (Y/N).

“He was a ghost with a mop-top haircut and glasses,” said Toritsuka. “He was a world-famous legendary musician who died at the young age of forty.”

“You couldn’t possibly mean—”

“That’s right. It was John. It was John Komatsu!” said Toritsuka.

“That’s not who I thought it was,” said (Y/N).

“I let him possess my body, and he overtook the souls of the audience in an instant!” said Toritsuka. “Spirit-summoning is a wonderful ability.”

“Oh, so you’re abusing other people’s talents to try to get with girls,” said (Y/N), unimpressed.

Saiki nodded. “Well-said.”

“No, I’m using my spirit-summoning talent to try to get with girls,” said Toritsuka.

“That’s not better,” said (Y/N).

“Why are you checking another guy out?!” A shout went up through the courtyard as a boy grabbed a girl by the wrist.

“It hurts, let go!” cried the girl.

Toritsuka ran over and separated them. “Don’t lay your hands on a girl!”

“This has nothing to do with you!” growled the original boy.

“How pathetic are you, being so jealous?” said Toritsuka.

“I’m going to kill you!” said the boy, aiming a bunch.

“Uh-oh!” said (Y/N) standing.

Saiki reached out and touched their wrist to stop them. “A ghost is possessing him. He’s fine.”

Toritsuka blocked the attack easily and grinned back at Saiki and (Y/N). “Did you see whose move that was? An action star who passed away at the age of thirty-two.”

“You don’t mean—”

“Yes! It’s Bru Scorpion Jr’s move,” said Toritsuka. “I summoned the legendary kung-fu master.”

“Who are these people?” said (Y/N), and Saiki shrugged.

“Saiki! This ability will make me the most popular man in the world,” declared Toritsuka.

“But it’s not your own personality,” said (Y/N). “Isn’t that a problem?”

“He doesn’t realize that this isn’t going to end well,” said Saiki.

Toristuka happily led thirteen girls towards the movie theater after school, eager to have a successful group date. All of his dreams were coming true. The only thing he needed was for the spirits to stay in line and not keep bothering him to borrow his body.

Behind the group, Saiki and (Y/N) watched them go.

“Is anything going wrong?” asked (Y/N).

“He’s being weird,” said Saiki. “But that’s standard Toritsuka.” He stepped up. “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

(Y/N) smiled. He was going to keep Toritsuka in line, even if he insisted these things had nothing to do with him. “You’re going to stand out in the group of girls.”

Saiki poofed into smoke, and when (Y/N) could see him again, a girl with light pink hair and clear glasses stood in front of them.

“Kusuo?” said (Y/N).

“I go by Kuriko in this form,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) beamed. “Wow, I didn’t know you could do that.”

Saiki nodded. “I prefer being a boy.”

“Well, you look nice as a girl, if that helps,” said (Y/N), rambling with a smile. It was a risk to say something like that with their feelings being what they were and Saiki not seeming to like such emotions, but they’d say it because it was true.

Saiki nodded curtly, a warmth in her chest. “Thank you.”

“I guess we can blend in now,” said (Y/N), taking a step forward. They were ambiguous enough.

Saiki nodded, and they stepped up to the back of the group to keep an eye on Toritsuka.

“Toritsuka, tell us something funny!” said one girl.

“Yes, I’d love to hear a joke,” said a second.

“Something funny?” Toritsuka considered. “Then, I’ll tell you about the erotic movie—” He cut himself off. He couldn’t say something like that. Instead, he let a charismatic CEO and speaker—Montecarlo Sudo—take over his body and begin speaking about different types of phones and ipods he has.

The girls looked unimpressed and bored. Clearly, Sudo hadn’t been the right choice.

“Yare yare. I came out of worry, but I see that wasn’t needed,” said Saiki.

“Looks like he’s just out of his depth. The girls should be fine,” said (Y/N), satisfied.

Saiki paused as she turned away, though, since she could hear Toritsuka’s worried thoughts as he failed to switch back into his own body.

Abruptly, Toritsuka’s body began to sing as Komatsu switched in.

“Uh, Kuriko?” asked (Y/N), confused.

“He can’t get control of his body back,” said Saiki. “He’s super confused.”

“Can you help him out? I know he was being a creep, but he can get his karma in his own body,” said (Y/N).

Saiki nodded and projected her words into (Y/N) and Toritsuka’s minds. “You can’t switch back because that’s not your body anymore.”

Toritsuka’s ghost looked over in alarm at (Y/N) and the girl who must be Saiki in confusion.

“It seems like they have been using your body more than you lately,” said Saiki. “It’s like when your dog gets attached to the person watching them when you travel.”

Toritsuka, of course, freaked out.

“He’s panicking, isn’t he?” said (Y/N).

Saiki nodded.

“Can’t say he doesn’t deserve it,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

Even (Y/N)’s kindness has a limit. “He’s begging me to help him,” said Saiki.

Toritsuka’s body stopped singing and began practicing kung-fu, punching and kicking the air while the girls looked on in shock and disgust. As soon as the body approached them, they made a hasty exit, over the whole thing and any crushes they had on Toritsuka.

“Maybe we shouldn’t let him run around like that,” said (Y/N).

“Yare yare. I guess we should help,” said Saiki, stepping up to Toritsuka’s body.

“How are you going to—”

Saiki kicked Toritsuka’s stomach, and the ghosts were forcibly expelled from his body (and Toritsuka went flying).

“Wow,” said (Y/N). They grinned. “That was a super cool kick!”

Toritsuka trembled as he stood in his own body. He groaned and held his stomach. “Saiki, thank you so much. I learned a lesson, too. I’ll try to do things on my own without depending so much on ghosts.” He paused and looked at Saiki. He coughed. “Hey, uh, Saiki. Are those boobs real?”

“You should go to Heaven, too,” said Saiki, putting her hands on her hips.

“Ew,” said (Y/N), making a face.

Toritsuka pouted as everyone looked at him with grossed-out expressions.

“Are you joining any clubs, Kusuo?” asked (Y/N) as they headed into the lunchroom. The new term had begun, so clubs were advertising for new members once more.

Saiki shook his head. “What about you?”

“I’m a part of the Cooking and Baking Club,” said (Y/N). “But I’ve been doing that for a while.” They smiled. “I’m hoping to be president by senior year.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there,” said Saiki. He had the honor of being (Y/N)’s test subject for new recipes, and they were always delicious.

“Thanks,” said (Y/N), smiling.

“Saiki! (L/N)!” Toritsuka ran up behind them, and Saiki shut the door in his face.

Toritsuka pouted, opened the door, and followed them to their table. “I wanted to talk to you two about something.”

“We’re not joining your club,” said Saiki. He refused to get involved with Toritsuka, and he didn’t want (Y/N) being near his plots for girls either.

“Saiki, do you want to start a club with me?” said Toritsuka, ignoring Saiki.

“Still no,” said Saiki.

“What is it?” asked (Y/N) curiously.

“An excuse to get close to girls,” said Saiki.

“Toristuka…” sighed (Y/N), disappointed. “I thought you just learned a lesson about how wrong that goes for you.”

“You know, I’m not sure what club it’s going to be, yet,” said Toritsuka, ignoring their comments and addressing his club again.

“How about a club of shame?” suggested Saiki.

“Well, I tried to get into other clubs—” all to get closer to girls, of course “—but I was rejected from all of them, so I have no choice but to make my own,” said Toritsuka. He brightened. “I need to build my own harem!”

“You mean club?” said Saiki, nearly rolling his eyes.

“…Toritsuka, just…no,” said (Y/N), shaking their head.

Toristuka stood. “I just got an idea of what club to start!”

“I don’t care,” said Saiki.

“The Occult Club,” said Toritsuka.

Sure enough, by the next day in school, a giant sign for the Occult Club (reading “primarily girls wanted”) was plastered up on the walls, and people were gathered around it curiously).

“They’re taking the bait!” said Toritsuka excitedly.

“Will that poster really work?” said Saiki.

“I mean, a few people like the occult,” said (Y/N), considering.

“Have you heard of misattribution of arousal?” said Toritsuka.

(Y/N) blanched. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s a theory stating that people can mistake fear for attraction,” said Toritsuka.

“He never studies, yet he knows stuff like this.”

“The Occult Club is the perfect way to put this to use!” said Toristuka, proud of himself.

“You put a lot of effort into really strange things,” said (Y/N) brightly.

Toritsuka walked into his clubroom—a regular room darkened with blackout curtains and a lack of turned-on lights. “There may already be new applicants!” He didn’t see anyone and walked farther in. “I guess we need more time.”

“Can Kusuo and I not be a part of this?” said (Y/N).

“There is someone here,” said Saiki.

“I would like to be a part of the Occult Club,” said a girl from the darkness.

Toritsuka looked over eagerly but jumped as she loomed out of the darkness.

“Nice to meet you,” said the girl, hair draped over her face.

Toritsuka screamed. “Saiki, it’s a ghost!”

(Y/N) turned on the lights to reveal a perfectly normal girl who just had a strange hairstyle.

“Calm down, aren’t you used to seeing ghosts?” said Saiki.

“I’m Arisu Makino,” said the girl. “In middle school, I read about three thousand books on black magic and spiritualism. Because the devil summoning requires six people as sacrifices, I have come to join.”

“I’m not going to be a sacrifice, actually,” said (Y/N) jovially. “I’m not a part of this club.”

“You should be a little more concerned about the idea of sacrifices,” said Saiki.

“The people from the Occult Club went that way,” said Toritsuka, pointing out the door and totally lying.

“Oh, really?” said Makino.

“Hey, you’re the club president,” said Saiki, not letting him get away with anything.

The door of the clubroom opened, and Toritsuka grinned at it. “Welcome to the Occult Club.”

“What? Is this it or not?” asked Makino in confusion.

“It is,” said (Y/N), nodding to her.

“The Occult Club?” Kaidou looked in. “My name is Jet Black Wings, an exorcist who just happened to be passing by.”

“Hey, Kaidou!” said (Y/N), waving.

“Oh, Saiki, (L/N), hi,” said Kaidou, noticing them nervously.

“Do you know him?” asked Toritsuka, looking at the two. “Hold on.” He chuckled. “You’re the chihuahua!” He laughed as he remembered Kaidou’s spirit guide.

“Don’t call me that!” cried Kaidou, embarrassed.

“Anyways, guys are not allowed to join the club,” said Toritsuka.

“What?” said Kaidou, confused and disappointed.

The door opened again, and Yumehara stepped in.

“Excuse me, I would like to join the Occult Club,” she said. She pretended to innocently look around before “noticing” Kaidou. “Oh, my! Kaidou, what a coincidence! You surprised me.”

“Aw, that’s kind of cute,” said (Y/N). “She’s trying to understand what he’s interested in.”

Is that what I should be doing more? thought Saiki. He considered for a moment, but all he could think was that he and (Y/N) already did plenty together and hung out regularly. Still, he’d try to pay some more attention to them. Would that show he cared? Saiki didn’t want (Y/N) to think he didn’t value them.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” said Yumehara, smiling at Kaidou.

A cute girl is here! thought Toristuka triumphantly. “Welcome,” he said, winking. “Are you ready to have a dangerous time?”

“Uh…” Yumehara looked unimpressed.

“Hey! So guys can’t join this club?” said Kaidou accusatorily.

“That’s right!” Toritsuka tried to hug Makino and Yumehara, but (Y/N) moved in between him and them. “This is my harem, the Occult Club.”

“It isn’t,” said Saiki.

“Girls have stronger spiritual powers than guys, so you can’t join,” decided Toritsuka.

“What? Kaidou can’t join the club?” said Yumehara. Her gaze darkened. “Sorry. I quit.” She walked up to Kaidou. “Kaidou, why don’t we make our own club?”

“What? Oh, uh, sure, okay,” said Kaidou, nervous about Yumehara walking up to him.

“I want to join, too,” said Makino.

“Wait!” cried Toritsuka as he lost everyone. He bowed to Kaidou. “I’ll allow you to join the club.” But he wasn’t happy having a “rival.”

Kaidou brightened, and Yumehara grinned and blushed excitedly.

“Let’s have fun together, Kaidou!” said Yumehara.

“Toritsuka’s not happy about Kaidou getting the attention,” said (Y/N). They chuckled quietly. “He kind of deserves it.”

Saiki nodded. “He doesn’t stand a chance.” But “misattribution of arousal?” Curious, he decided to try something out. That is interesting.

His psychokinesis hit the lights.

“What happened?!” said Kaidou, looking around.

“A blackout? I’m scared,” cried Yumehara.

(Y/N) jumped at the sudden darkness and reached out to grab Saiki’s sleeve. It was instinctual; they felt safer knowing he was there.

Static blared from the (digital) TVs, and Yumehara jumped towards Kaidou.

“The door won’t open!” cried Toritsuka, trying to pull it open.

“Calm down,” said Makino. “Let’s remain calm and chant a spell.” She put her hands together and began chanting.

“Kusuo, is this just you?” whispered (Y/N).

“Yes,” said Saiki, and he watched as (Y/N) relaxed.

“Oh, good,” they said. They smiled sheepishly and let go of his sleeve. “I guess that was pretty silly of me to get scared while in school.”

“Don’t feel bad. They’re still scared,” said Saiki, watching the group. “I guess that’s enough.” He let the TVs switch off and the lights come on. He looked at the results of his experiment. “Yumehara has a high likability for Kaidou.”

“Were you seriously testing Toritsuka’s ‘misattribution of arousal’ thing?” said (Y/N) incredulously.

Saiki shrugged. “I was curious.”

“…Was he right or being stupid?” said (Y/N), a little bit curious now that the experiment had been conducted.

“He’s always stupid, but…” He looked over at Toritsuka, who was staring at Makino.

My heart is pounding… Toritsuka gazed at Makino, eyes wide and cheeks red. There is no doubt about it! I’m in love with Arisu Makino!

“He fell victim to his own ploy,” said Saiki. “His likability towards Makino rose a lot.”

(Y/N) shook their head and chuckled. “Toritsuka always gets himself into trouble with his own ideas.”

“He does,” agreed Saiki. He glanced at them. I wonder what your likability of me is. For a moment, Saiki legitimately considered checking. And then…he decided not to. If they didn’t like him any more than a friend and the score was low, Saiki would be disappointed. Plus…even a high likability could just be really liking someone as a friend. It wouldn’t clear anything out.

And Saiki didn’t want his heart to be hurt.

Little did he know, (Y/N) harbored the same feelings for him as he did for them. No misattribution of feelings there.

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#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo #saiki kusou no psi nan #saiki #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusuo x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k.

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jarofstyles · 3 hours

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Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!

Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

---------

“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning.

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask.

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different.

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to.

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked.

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster.

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention.

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date.

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more.

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more.

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things.

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself.

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home.

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was.

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open.

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled.

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed.

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile.

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall.

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze.

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it. “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped.

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.”

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.”

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?”

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.” He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time.

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was.

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.”

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them.

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.”

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though.

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.”

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out.

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.”

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was.

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?”

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.”

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags.

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.”

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one.

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk.

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing.

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart.

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over, “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.”

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror.

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair.

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.”

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this.

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?”

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.”

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror.

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.”

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either.

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.”

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times.

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions.

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants.

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure.

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-”

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal.

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit.

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this.

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied.

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.”

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.”

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.”

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.”

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.”

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.”

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.”

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own.

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly.

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?”

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.”

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.”

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.”

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.”

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.”

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.”

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?”

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again.

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.”

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him.

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on.

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.”

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.”

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head.

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake.

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.”

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see.

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?”

How could he ever tell her no?

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop.

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it.

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face.

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck.

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.”

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him.

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic.

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.”

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head.

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.”

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time.

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

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