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jamminvroomvroom · 1 month

Text

ruined.

LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration

based on this request!

in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?

back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs

i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(

songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas

warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining

3.4k words

“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.

“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.

“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.

“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.

“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.

five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.

“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.

“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.

“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.

“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”

“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.

“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.

“what’s your excuse?”

“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.

“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”

you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.

truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!

lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.

“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.

you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.

“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.

he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.

“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.

“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:

“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.

“yeah. love you too.”

lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.

it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.

you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.

how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.

you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.

what’s the harm in helping yourself out?

you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.

you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.

you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.

on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.

but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.

his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.

you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.

he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.

you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.

i just got off to the sound of my best friend.

you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.

lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.

“lando-“

“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”

“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.

“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.

when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.

“moving on.”

“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.

“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.

“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.

“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

dinner was… well, it was edible.

he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.

“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.

“anytime, honey.” he replies.

you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.

you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-

a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.

the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.

“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.

“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.

“that sounds absolutely perfect.”

“netflix?”

“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.

you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.

he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.

when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.

“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.

“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,

“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”

“about what?” you whisper.

“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”

“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.

“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”

his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.

“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.

“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.

he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.

“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”

“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.

and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.

“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.

“perfect.”

his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.

“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”

“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.

“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.

nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.

lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.

your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.

“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.

you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.

“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.

he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.

“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.

“good?” he smirks.

“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.

“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.

“so are you.” you whisper.

he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.

you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.

“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.

“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.

“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.

you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.

“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.

“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.

“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.

you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.

“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.

it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.

“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.

he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.

your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.

“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.

“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.

“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.

“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.

“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.

he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.

“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”

he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.

it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.

“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.

“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”

i feel so warm inside hehe

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789 @ln4norizz @formulaal

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed :)

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johnpriceslamb · 3 months

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏?

❛ you ask the Van Der Linde boys if you could sit on their lap. ❜

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┊female ! reader . afab ! reader . reader is physically shorter than chars mentioned below . suggestive themes implied . wrds . not edited . not proof-read . Javier ver touchy . google translated Spanish . John is very drunk . 1.4k wrd-count

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍

You want to what?

You tinker your lashes multiple times innocently at his flabbergasted expression, unconsciously tilting your head at his dramatic approach. From your tone alone meant nothing but the most purest intentions, he knew well you mean no harm. But hearing those words made his cheeks burn a tad bit brighter.

“May I please— “No, no, I heard ya the first time- I just..” He abruptly cuts you. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up head-to-toe just to see if you were in a playful manner. You weren’t.

He grumbles softly, contemplating. He scratches behind his neck for a bit before a deep sigh escapes his mouth and he leans back on the wooden chair he sat upon.

“C’mere.”

He beckons you to come closer with two fingers lazily waving in the air. Immediately do you obey his simple commands like a lost pup, hands clasped prettily in-front of your chest as you easily plop yourself on his lap. Your back almost hits his chest, akin to a literal brick wall from all of the labour work he’s done. Unconsciously does his large hands come to your hips, positioning them slightly just so you’d be a tad bit more comfortable.

It’s easy to tilt your head upwards to see his face, the prickles of hair sticking out on his chin is the most prominent thing from your view. He feels your stare almost immediately and looks down at your beady eyes. He has to stop himself from grinning at your unawareness.

The cowpoke could only narrow his eyes at the soft giggle you produced from your mouth, a hand resting on your hip, “What?”

You look away with a tiny smile, “Nuthin’.”

He lets out another deep sigh, before pinching your cheek.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍

The bottle of beer in his hand almost slips to the ground after hearing your simple question.

He raises a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, mindful to be aware of the deep claw-marks embedded on his skin. The bottle was placed on the table with a clumsy clatter, back supported by the edge of the table.

“..Watchu say?” He squints his dark eyes at you. He must’ve drunk too much, perhaps he heard you wrong. His tone was always raspy yet so demeaning playful even. You took it as if he didn’t want you to, and you shrink meekly.

You stutter shyly, “I’ll just go ask someone else—

He felt his guts squeeze and churn at the sight of you sitting on someone else’s lap. All sense of proper etiquette is thrown away from jealousy and alcoholic behaviour, his hand is very quick to grabbing yours as he roughly pulls you back. A tiny squeal escapes your lap as you clumsily fall on his chest and onto his hard thighs.

Your hands are clinging onto his opened top to balance yourself, the smirk on his face visible as he sees how shy you suddenly became.

The strong scent of alcohol makes your nose scrunch up. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck, stubble lightly tickling your sensitive skin. After a few minutes of making yourself comfy on his lap and finally staying still, his hand comes to grab his bottle to take another chug.

“John,” You almost whine at the way he unconsciously starts to bounce his knee up and down. A habit he’s not prone to ever since he started drinking. It was almost like he forgot you were sitting on his lap after a few minutes. Immediately does he stop his movement, a low slurr of babbles and a soft hiccup escapes his lips, “Whoops— sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he cheekily stares down at you.

“Y’know,” He hics.

“Yer behind feels kinda good on my-

“John.”

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

He’s a bit clueless at first, bless his heart.

He’s busy carving a small piece of wood with his knife, hunched over as his long hair falls, covering the sides of his face almost elegantly. He wasn’t bothered to tie his hair back, nor raise a finger to place it behind his ear. He stops re-shaping the small piece of wood as he hears a soft patter of footsteps from in-front.

“Hm?” He hums, his guard lowers significantly once realising it was you. The knife is lowered too, and the items were placed afar so it does not distract you nor come in your way.

“May I please sit on your lap?” You ask with those big beady eyes of yours, hands behind your back as your tone is light and sweet.

Of course, silence is ensured for a few seconds. His brooding figure straightens up from his spot. He quirks a dark, angular brow at your much smaller figure.

“Why?” He asks with a straight face.

Your cheeks burn, and your expression was alike of a kicked pup. He catches on quickly, and he immediately feels bad for seeming so nonchalant and blunt.

“U-Um.. I just, I wanted to.. N-nevermind. Sorry.” You shyly stammer, akin to a doe whom tries to stand up for the first time.

He easily suppresses the smile which almost etched onto his face at your stuttering. Cute.

“I didn’t say no, y’know.” He gestures you to come over with a simple pat on his thigh. You beam, eagerly toddling to him like a tiny tot wanting to get her stuffies. You sit yourself on his thighs, shoes quite literally lifting off of the ground because of how big he was. Even if he sat down, he still always towered over you.

He allows you to wiggle a bit on his lap, but a hand comes down to rest on your knee to squeeze it a bit as a gentle warning to not go any higher. You do obey, of course. Your back is to his chest, your hands positioned on your lap as you almost melt at how warm he was.

“Comfortable?” At each word he uttered to you, it was more toned down in pitch, a low hum always started. You nod lazily, a smile of satisfaction of how comfy he felt underneath. You don’t mind the way he snakes his arms around your waist. “Good.”

𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀

You regret asking.

Simply put, he’s handsy.

The smirk on his face is very visible. The log he rests upon feels even more smaller as he slowly starts to manspread right in front of you. The guitar in his hand is placed gently just to the side before he beckons you to come forth. You reluctantly sit on his lap, almost squirming at how close he was.

A hand on your hip, another squish to your thigh, a soft roll from his hip teasingly upwards, a touch here, a touch there..

“Javier!” You whine, swatting his hand off your curves. He could only teasingly grin, before shrugging. “..Tu pediste esto.” His voice serenades.

You try to swat his hands off again, but merely give up, knowing he won’t stop any time soon. You lay your cheek on his chest, lithe arms wrapped around his waist as your back arches a tad bit from not supporting your structure. His hands are on the small of your back, rubbing small circles on the softness of your clothed skin.

The embers from the mini camp-fire is light and descends off in the dark night, crackles of the wood calms your nerves down just a bit. He does tone his touch down just a tad bit for your sake, despite wanting to desperately grab at.. literally anything. He’s had ladies before, but by far was he the neediest when it came to you.

You can’t help but take a small peak from above, wispy lashes coming to tinker a bit when he tilts his gaze to fixate on you. A small smile on his face, as he greedily eats up all of the touch you gave to him.

“..hi.” You quietly mumble, a bit muffled because of the fact that half of your face is mushed against the fabrics of his clothes. A fox-like grin etches on his tan face as he presses a tiny kiss on your forehead, entertaining you by replying with a simple “hola.”

“You’re really clingy- and touchy. I hope you know that.” You grumble when his hand comes to cup your curves again.

He smiles lazily. “I know.”

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! reader #charles smith x reader #charles smith #javier escuella x reader #john marston x reader #javier escuella #john marston #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 john #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption 2

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nvirskies · 3 months

Text

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction.

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day.

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her.

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion.

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely.

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette.

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway.

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence.

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus.

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands.

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed.

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

#🖋️ nvir writes #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse pjo #cabin 9 #daughter of hephaestus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv

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huramuna · 3 months

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lay all your love on me - oneshot.

modern aemond x wife reader 18+ minors DNI, you will be smited.

an early valentine's day piece.

word count: 2.2k

i don't do taglists any more unfortunately -- @huramuna-fics -- follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut with little plot (specifics under the cut), bdsm themes, allusions to infertility, established relationship, no use of y/n, no description of reader, aftercare

lay all your love on me - ABBA • gimmie! gimmie! gimmie! (a man after midnight) - ABBA

warnings: bondage, edging, ruined orgasms, orgasm control, deepthroating, face fucking, ball-gagged, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, bdsm dynamics, dom/sub, brat taming, use of sex toys, knifeplay

You shouldn’t have listened to Aegon’s advice. Aegon, the brainless older idiot brother of your husband, gave you advice to spice up your marriage and hopefully, to conceive a baby– as he apparently had a few children running around, and this somehow made him an expert.

And you took it.

It started off innocently; more dirty-talk, heavier touches, bites that left small marks of ownership for both of you to admire. It began to move onto silken sashes loosely holding your wrists together, fingers gagging your mouth.

Then, it shifted with the creation of your safeword.

“Pomelo,” you said, a tad more confidently than you should’ve.

“Pomelo? That’s what you’re choosing as a safe word?” Aemond chuckled, perking his brow.

“Yep, so you won’t forget.”

The bindings became tighter then afterwards, but not uncomfortable, of course. Aemond was a gentle husband in most facets, and this extended to his bondage of you. He would have you reassure him that they weren’t too constricting, weren’t chafing and were comfortably snug.

Once his work was done and you soothed his worry, it was like a switch flipped in his head. Gone was your gentle husband of two years, and out came something primal and feral. It's always been there, right under the surface— broiling and writhing to come free, his blood set aflame.

You realize now what amazing control your husband has— over himself, over his environment and most importantly; over you.

That is how you ended up in your current situation— a cocktail of taking Aegon’s advice and stoking the flame of Aemond’s inner depravities. Your current situation being tied to a chair in red, silken sashes, adorned like a present ready to be opened, legs spread slightly, arms tied back. A matching ball gag muffled your gentle whines as a red bullet vibrator was carefully nestled in your folds.

This was your Valentine’s Day gift to Aemond; allowing him to tie you up and edge you for as long as he wished, watching you almost fall apart each time— before he snatched away your release. He even tied a lovely little bow across your breasts; a treat for him for later.

Saliva dribbled down your chin as you watched him; he was still dressed from work that day, business casual with black slacks and a white button up, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair pinned in a neat bun at the nape of his neck. He had his phone in his hand, changing the frequency of the vibrations on the bullet expertly placed just grazing your clit, teasing you and circling you. You looked a mess already, drooling and whining against the gag, toes curling at every minute sensation— while Aemond looked groomed and tailored to perfection, just watching. Cheeky bastard.

Your eyes roved his form as he pulled up a chair, finally, across from you. You swore you could see the distinct bulge of arousal tightening around his pelvic region, but he turned around before you could confirm it. Asshole. You wouldn’t be surprised, with the insane amount of control that he had over himself, if he was willing away a boner, just to tease you.

While he was turned away, you rubbed your thighs together, eager to ease some of the ache you felt from being denied.

“You know you aren’t supposed to do that,” he chastised, somehow knowing you were getting up to no good with his back turned. “You’re being bad, love.”

You responded with a few indignant grumbles, more saliva slipping from your lips and sliding down your chest.

“Back talking?” Aemond mused, finally turning around, chair in hand. He turned it so he was sitting with his chest against the back of it, arms propped on the wood as he held his phone in an almost lazy manner. “That won’t do. You know I hate when you’re bratty.” he hummed, adjusting the speed once more on his phone. His voice said one thing, but his eyes said another. He loved when you were bratty— it gave him a chance to tame you.

This exchange had been going on for thirty minutes already and you felt tears in your eyes at your ruined orgasms. You were screaming silent pleas to him from a look alone, your lashes damp with welling tears.

“Does my wife want to come? I thought you had more stamina,” Aemond tutted, his voice perfectly trained to feign disappointment.

You wilted under his faux admonishments, shaking back and forth against the bindings, chasing the high that would never come. The legs of the chair squeaked slightly as you moved it.

“Don’t,” Aemond said firmly, turning off the vibrations completely and putting his phone aside. His voice took a darker note now, not like the playful scolding before. “You’ll hurt yourself,” he got up, hand stilling the chair. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Your chest heaved as you nodded profusely. Yesyesyes, pleaseplease! Your skin crawled delightfully as he reached between your legs and slowly, deliberately slowly, pulled the bullet from your folds. It was soaked and slick. He reached up then and untied the gag, as well, rasping a finger over your poor swollen lips.

“My poor baby,” he cooed, before pulling back. He began to undo his belt and your mouth filled with saliva instantly— that had to be some sort of pavlovian response, how pathetic— your eyes were trained on his hands as they flexed, discarding his belt and shirt, then his pants without much ceremony. Your eyes hadn’t deceived you earlier, he was rock hard, to a point it almost looked painful. “You’ll get yours soon, I promise.” he said, running his palm down his length as he positioned himself— one leg up on the chair you were on, one hand behind your head. ‘Open’, he mouthed.

Your swollen lips opened as he guided his cock into your mouth. The salty, musky taste and smell of him, so familiar and comforting that it caused your eyes to flutter, enveloped your senses. He slid his length across your tongue until he nestled nicely in, drawing you in at the hilt. Your nose brushed his mound of neatly groomed short and curlies. He was all consuming, so in control— all you could do was look up at him.

“You don’t need to do the work, baby,” he murmured. “Just sit there and look pretty.” his now free hand caressed your face, thumb drawing circles over your cheek as he began to move. It was slow at first, to help you get used to it— you were very used to letting him fuck your face, but it was always nice to start slow. You felt his cock slide in and out, against your tongue, prodding at your throat.

Usually, he would put music on, or have the T.V on as background noise— but that wasn’t the case tonight. It was silent, save for the sound of the rocking chair, his soft pants of pleasure, and the downright vulgar noise of you taking him in your throat. It was straight up pornographic and you hoped that soundproofing the room had actually worked.

His fingers curled in your hair. “So… good for me,” he praised, voice tenuous as he edged himself now, wanting to make it last. “So good, letting your husband fuck your throat.” he clenched slightly, stopping his movements and clasping two fingers at the base of his cock— a close call, apparently. Times like these were where you could see the edges of Aemond’s control frayed, like threads of an old sweater. It delighted you greatly, and you wanted to see him let go completely and lose it. You hoped tonight would be that night.

You caught your breath as he showered you with compliments, wiping away your tears. “Such a good wife, my sweet girl,” Aemond said, absconding from you temporarily to fiddle with something in his discarded trousers. “Gonna open my present now, yeah?” he returned, clicking a small switchblade open— one he kept in his pocket for miscellaneous purposes. The two of you have indulged in knife play before, and it’s something that particularly excites him.

The flat of the blade pressed to your skin, the cool sheen of it making your skin prickle. He dragged it up carefully, the edge away from your flesh until it met the sashes at your breasts. Aemond sliced through them like butter, followed by the ones on your arms and legs, effectively freeing you. You gave a gentle sigh of appreciation and approval— as he always required before the final act, just to make sure you were alright.

Once receiving it, he swept you up from the chair, picking you up with ease. He wasted no time pressing his mouth to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. Your brain felt full of fuzz and bees, still numbed by how badly you wanted to come. Your clit was practically throbbing, warmth spreading through your core as he took you to the bed— not the bed you slept in, but one you both had bought especially for the play room. He laid you down so gently that you almost forgot where you were— until you looked in his eyes and saw the eclipsed pupil, his usually calm blue eyes (one less blue than the other from his childhood injury) was totally engulfed by blackness. He reminded you of a shark, besotted to the primal urges of their nature when they smelled blood.

His cock sunk into you without any resistance, like slipping on a lubricated glove. The fit was still snug, but eased some of the ache you felt.

“Aemond…” you sighed softly, body relaxing as he rested inside of you. It felt like laying in bed after a long day, your bones softening. “Need you to fuck me, husband,” you continued. “Please.” you added after, remembering your manners.

He just stayed there, still, staring at you. He didn’t move.

“Please.”

No response.

“If I am not blissfully fucked out in about five minutes, I’m going to bite you.”

Nothing.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplea–,”

Your whining was cut off as he set an unrelenting pace, right off the bat, hammering into you with reckless abandon, bullying your sweet spot like it owed him something. But he, in fact, owed you something. You reached behind and pulled his hair out of the bun, letting it fall between you like a curtain of snow. His blown out pupils, his hair a mess, his movements were erratic– he was losing control.

His hand supplanted into the soft of your hip, clenching onto it for dear life as he drilled into you. You pinched his free wrist as a reminder– to which he dutifully remembered, his digits falling to the apex of your thighs and rasping over your clit in rhythmic ministrations. Your legs locked around him in an instant, pulling him in impossibly closer as you continued to beg, you were so close, so close–

“P-please– can I?” you asked through broken whimpers.

He couldn’t even respond through his exertions, evidently chasing his own high– he gave a growl in response, nodding. You didn’t just tip over the edge, you were fucking pushed, as your pleasure came to an all consuming, mind numbing climax. Your neurons fired off on all cylinders, electrifying through your body and coming to a conclusion: Holy fuck. You felt wetness squidge between your legs as you soaked Aemond, in turn, gripping him like a vice.

The mask of power he had been wearing slipped and fell off completely, as he scooped you up from the bed (without slipping out even once) and gripped you by the ass, pistoning up into you with feverish, animalistic panting. His fingers left red indents on your soft bottom, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, a dragon tasting his meal. His knees almost buckled as he came, a long grunt indicating it– as well as the coupled feeling of him emptying his balls inside of you. He gripped the wooden bedpost, angling you in one arm as he caught his own breath.

His hair was plaited to his forehead as the sheen of perspiration glazed his skin, all the strength had been sucked out of him temporarily, exiting through his cock and into you, apparently. Yet, even still, he placed you back on the bed, bottom towards the headboard. He propped up a pillow under you and angled your legs upward. You were still thoroughly fucked out, so you let him handle you like a ragdoll, you bones jelly. It was your routine to do this specifically– as you’d been trying for a baby for the past year or so.

Aemond returned (when had he left?) with a bottle of water. “Drink, love,” he murmured softly, his disposition back to that of the gentle husband. “Here,” he fluffed another pillow, this time putting it under your head. “You alright?” he asked, uncapping the bottle of water and bringing it to your mouth.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back, sipping the water. “Food?” you asked simply, a goofy grin coming to your face.

“Of course, of course– whatever you want.”

“Thai.”

“Consider it done.”

–

When you inevitably tested positive for pregnancy about two months later, you chalked it up to your Valentine’s Day surprise that did the job– Aemond agreed. Aegon was disgusted, but also took credit for the dubbed ‘miracle baby’.

Aemond wacked him over the head each time he said it, to which Aegon would run away and shout. “I got your wife pregnant, I got your wife pregnant!”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond smut #modern aemond smut #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #my writing #lay all your love on me

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nezuscribe · 2 years

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so...bakugo has a problem with spoiling you. and at first, bakugo thinks that sort of thing is outrageous. he’s not a fan of pda, gifts, or anniversaries. that could probably be partial because he never had a good enough girlfriend that lasted long enough to celebrate these things with, so he just never saw the need for them.

all of his friends would gush about how much they looked forward to the cards from their significant other, the flowers, and the shower of compliments, but he didn’t seem to affect by it that much.

and, sure, maybe sometimes he wanted to spend it with somebody. sometimes he longed to hold somebody’s hand when he was working late into the early hours of the morning, a comfort he had longed for ever since he outgrew the childish need for touch. but, he was a busy man. he couldn’t outwardly look for something like that until it fell right into his lap.

yeah, well, that was until you.

and when you literally bumped into him on an early morning jog, looking off somewhere else to notice the 6’5 foot brute coming your way. he wasn’t sure how he managed to work his way through the awkward small talk, especially when you were such a cheerful person (at five in the morning, no less), and he had a date with you the following night. it turned into frequent meetings at each other's apartments, you spending some nights at his office, sprawled over the couch in the corner as you ranted about the annoying women at your work who kept piling shifts on you. and, much to katsuki's chagrin, he fell for you. in the way he promised himself he’d never fall for anybody. but it's fine, he'll be there to catch himself until it gets too much.

until he couldn't and you became his only lifeline. falling didn't seem to be so bad if somebody was gonna be there to catch him - undeniably cheesy, he's well aware - and he finally understood why kiri was raging on and on about his girlfriend. finally.

"for you," he said one night, a black velvet sitting on his palm, open-faced as he looked up at you eagerly, a tad bit of worry in his eyes as he was terrified you weren't going to like it.

and he was suddenly becoming a little nauseous because you weren't saying anything and although the pearl necklace was really light it was sinking into his hand.

"um, babe...." you pause, your fingers dancing over the chain of the necklace as you worriedly look up into his red eyes, "am i forgetting something?"

and he shook his head, taking the initiative as he moves behind you, taking the pieces of delicate jewelry out from its box as he gets to work with his fingers, surprisingly nimble as he latches the lock together, his hands shaking a bit as he tries to catch a glimpse of your view in mirror adjacent to the two of you.

"nah," he presses a hot kiss to the place where your neck meets your collarbone, snuggling deep into it, almost feeling feral at the smell of your perfume as his arms pull you closer to his chest, "just a little somethin' i thought ya'd like."

so after that, he's dead set on gifts, after all, he's just got so much money and nothing to spend it on, so you've become the prime focus of his bank account.

and every time you tell him you don't want gifts, that you try to push them off, he doesn't listen, saying that it's the least he could do since he can't actually give you the world (no matter how much he wants to). he knows you're not materialistic, far from it, but he doubts there's somebody in the world that actively hates receiving gifts.

if your eyes linger on a channel coat or burberry perfume he's quick to put it in the cart. he'll observe you, see what things you secretly try to fawn over, and makes sure to surprise it with it the next time you come to his office. pulling it out of his desk drawer, wrapped in a bow as he winks with his signature, "for you."

because the thing is, bakugo doesn't really know how to show his love. he's not good with his words or emotions because he's still working on those, but even if your scowl is lined with an all-grateful smile whenever he gifts you something, he knows he must be doing something right.

just give him some time, and he'll figure everything else out. he just needs to learn how you show affection, and learn other ways of expressing it (minus the gifts, he's not giving that up).

so, for now, take those prada boots without complaint. 'cause there's a pair of versace pumps waiting for you next to your nightstand. all wrapped and pretty, just for you, from your loving 'ki.

#bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou headcanons #bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo drabble #bakugou drabble #bakugo x you #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou #mha drabble

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smuttyaf · 1 month

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The Ultimatum

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩.

wc; 14.2k | fifth part to the business

i can’t express how much i appreciate the love i’ve been getting from the series! so because of that, i decided to combine two parts together for this post (teehee) that means extra manipulative!h & extra smut. i hope you all enjoy!

tw: gaslighting, coercion, degradation, tad bit of edging, and bdsm. don’t read if it makes you uncomfy!!

Is it conceited for you to embrace the stares that wander over your appearance?

Men fit in muted suits and twinkling time pieces, letting their adventurous eyes drink in every stride of you entering the lively scenery. Cleavage bouncing with each step held by the floral stitched dress gracing your body in all the right places; slit down one side to reveal your smooth legs and expensive heels.

The warmth of Harry’s hand nestled along your waist has greedy eyes stab jealous daggers with each passing movement in the room. You can’t help the smirk that tugs along your lips. Even if all these men's eyes are set on you, Harry is the one who loves your look the most just as much as you love all his strategic ways.

The familiar scent of his cologne relaxes every nerve from being around his magnetic presence. He moves through the room with grace, head bowing every few moments acknowledging acquaintances and colleagues. Every stretch of skin over Harry drips class and elegance, from his styled curls to Saint Laurent suit, all you can do is admire him.

He clears his throat to draw your attention to him, peeling your chair open with eyes twinkling as you take your seat and let him position you better along the table.

Your gaze surveys the group of men before you, stern faces with loose smirks, it has knots tightening in your stomach. Harry's body rumbles next to you, turning your focus to him with a timid smile, your shy expression has his eye dropping into a wink, hands clasping together looking towards the men.

“Finally! He shows up!”

The circle breaks into laughter, you join in faintly at the sound. There’s a dealer set in the middle of the table continuing to shuffle the deck while distant chatter still fills your ears. Shoulders relax against the cushions of the stool, fingers curving over your pouch as your tongue runs along your bottom lip.

“C’mon, you know this city and it’s shit traffic,” Harry counters, fixing his cuff links while his feet rustle against the chair legs.

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Sneaky grin shining from the man parallel to you who stares at Harry.

The undertone of his comment sends blood to course furiously, cheeks beginning to warm as you sit up straighter in your chair, eyes trailing to the poker chips littering the table in different colours. It distracts the sound of Harry kissing his teeth with his hands drumming against the cushions of the decorative spread.

“Enough, are we playing or what?” He avoids, eyebrows peering up at the ginger employee shuffling the deck of cards.

“I’ll go for another round, how bout’ you Gio?” Bald man with tattoos all over his scalp looks towards the man at the end of the table.

He shrugs in return, his hand raising up for a waitress to trail towards the group. A bouncy brunette appears as Gio looks around the table.

“Marcallan for the men… and you darling, what would you like?” Nervous smile spreads on your lips from being addressed. Finger reaching behind your ear to tuck hair away, sight flicking between Harry and his friend.

“Anything from the Château line, please.” Smiling at him and the waitress, Gio runs his tongue over his teeth as he nods his head.

“And that wine for the lady, thank you dear.” Hand going into his breast pocket, pulling bills out and gracing it to her.

Your eyes turn back towards Harry, he nods his head towards Gio, appreciation caught in their gaze before they’re looking towards cards flying across the table for their own deck.

“I’m feeling lucky tonight,” Harry cracks, arms slinging along the spread with a charming smile looking over his group of friends.

“I wouldn’t speak so soon,” Slim man with long nose twirls his empty glass of ice cubes, cheery grin spread along his features.

“Yeah, so far Johnny is leading this,” Deep voice of the pudgy man next to Harry laughs. It barks in grunting breaths with his face going red. Your view on your boyfriend whose expression reads disdain.

The snicker next to you breaks your attention. Short black hair gelled with hazel eyes dancing in the light, his smirk is sinister being satisfied with his winning streak. Gaze catches with yours, looking over your features with his tongue peeking out and running across his lip. The exchange stirs your sight to Harry, nails curling into the leather of your bag swallowing heavily.

You didn’t know what to expect when Harry invited you to this fundraiser for the evening, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Italian accents and expensive apparel hold your vision when you look around the table. Whether silver and gold shine off their bodies, every peek of their appearance radiates money. All men are groomed and styled with sophistication that adds to the ambiance of the room.

Voluminous jewels hang off the chandelier, waiters walk around holding trays of food or flutes of champagne, guests roaming amongst the floor carrying the flow of the party. The scene is one of glitz and glamor; sparkling liquor, upbeat band, and everyone dressed to the nines.

It’s a beautiful sight of the finer things in life, women flashing their magnificent accessories while men flaunt their luxurious suits and polished dress shoes. A breathless sigh slips past your lips with spine flexing recognizing people from local television.

Despite working at Jasper’s and always encountering famous men, you never got used to them being in your presence. Even if it was dancing for them, the fact you either grew up watching them on the big screen or just reading about them in the weekly news, it still surprises you how you’re able to surround yourself with popular figures.

“Gonna introduce us to your friend here?” Voice beside yourself questions. It rings your ears as your focus remains on the green table.

“Right? Styles, where are your manners?” Teasing tone adding into the space. The attention being on you stirs your heart to pick up in pace, shaky fingers and fluttering lashes look back up at the group.

“This is Y/N, my girlfriend,” Harry's hand finds itself on your naked thigh, sight looking over your timid frame as he smoothes it down the expanse while all the men study your appearance. “So don’t stare too long.”

The night unfolds with drinks flowing and locker room chatter, nasty jokes with suggestive winks leave the poker table a roaring mess. Amused hands clapping at men winning more money or spilling humor. Your once darting eyes and racing heart calms down, acknowledging every word spoken and laughing at every dirty pun. It’s relieving how funny and easy-going the group of his friends are, they carry you into conversations and even get you to join the game.

With the alcohol running through your system it has the hours spent at the party go by in a breeze. Harry’s touch nestles itself by your side, view checking on you enjoying yourself. His reassuring touch and attentive demeanor increases the affection between you, it has you smiling at him genuinely throughout the party appreciating him.

But beside those nurturing moments, you learn in the hours spent over colourful chips and liquor more about the men Harry involves himself with. What you grasp from their innuendos are gruesome jokes about beating someone to the bone or how pleasing it is to see their oppositions dead. Your heart swells with sadness, not only that they find it funny but that Harry was laughing along. It wasn’t amusing to you as it was to him.

That would be the moment you drown out the truth and toss back the rest of your wine, and by the time the glass touches the coaster Harry orders another, pleased you’re compliant with the conversation. Deflecting gaze and clenching heart wanders amongst the mingling people and jazz band. It’s in your tispy state you notice luring eyes of women set on Harry, drinking him in with all his glory that it sends a surge of jealousy through you. Fingers tighten around his as your sight focuses back on him, glossy eyes and straight teeth shine with ignorance about the brutal truth of the relationship.

By the time you’re on your fourth glass, the group settles into calm crackles of past memories; whether it’s about stumbling upon a glory hole or reminiscing about life back in Italy, it subsides your slow pacing heart from the previous conversation.

“So I’m tired right, I got blood gushing from my head and I just busted my ass four blocks to get to Harry’s. I barge into his place, he’s there with Kenzo and Charlie watching sports, you know how this man is always watching sports right!” You giggle in amusement invested with the story.

“And I tell him; I need your help, I can’t tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and we’re gonna hurt some people, and Harry, completely unfazed as ever goes, whose car are we taking?” The group erupts in laughter, as the man you learn to be Mateo, recounts his story.

Harry laughs with nails scratching against your skin, the view of him soothes yourself with warmth adoring him. Curls in waves combine with his amused laughter, skin folding by his eyes completely entertained with the story. The rowdy laughter carries on until there’s someone patting on his shoulder, salt and pepper roots with thick beard catching your sight.

“Styles! Nice to see you!”

Your jaw immediately tenses, nose wrinkles and cheeks blossom under the lights. Teeth clench down on each other as your heart begins to burn, this certainly wasn’t someone you expected to see tonight. Christian Bale in front of you and shaking Harry’s hand as if…

“Christian!” Harry cheers, going to greet him. At the same time his grip tightens around your knee your fingers trail towards your mouth, teeth nibbling on your nail with nerves raking through.

It’s in your movement that your familiar client catches your eyes, flash of surprise crossing his features before a pleased smile spreads.

“Where are you going? Stay for a game,” Harry chimes, hand gesturing to the poker table. The fact he’s even proposing that causes your fingers to curl into his anxiously.

The gesture is noticeable to him with gaze surveying your nervous appearance, before looking back to Christian who shakes his head.

“No, no, I was just on my way out.” Nodding towards the exit doors. Decline of the offer has Harry bow his head in acknowledgment, straightening up in his chair. “It was nice to see you before our meeting.”

“Likewise, get home safe.” Harry concludes the conversation with a genuine smile.

You’re extremely grateful that he passes up on the offer as he leaves towards the exit. Shallow breaths course through, searching eyes watch with teeth tearing away from acrylic, you draw your hand down and share a passive smile.

If you could wipe the sweat that trickles down your temple as if an sitcom, you would. Your heart never stops its thundering beats, discovering your boyfriend and regular client being friends? Colleagues? Whatever it is, it doesn’t sever the ache that grows in your chest.

“I think we should call it a night too,” Harry wonders, head twisting to look at you with a charming smile. “How does that sound?”

With the amount of liquor in your system and having witness that scene before you, the need to feel your blankets and its comforting material is one you pleasantly desire. The ends of your lips twist upwards as you nod.

So, a few minutes after Harry orders the valet for his Porsche you both bid the group farewells. Each man stands shaking Harry’s hand while they bring you in for a hug, respectable actions that leave you fond of the gesture.

The drive back to his penthouse is small talk about how the night went and if you enjoyed yourself. In the quiet space, your sight is caught on the moving buildings passing by in blurs, mind stuck on Mr. Bale while your voice conceals the uneasiness coursing through.

Christian has been your client for two years now, you see him every other week if he’s not on vacation or filming. Despite him being your regular, there is a cordial connection between you both; times he will confess to you problems in his life after too many drinks, or respecting your decision to not push the boundaries of your work position. Even though there’s a non-disclosure agreement binding the both of you, should you tell Harry your relationship with him?

The thoughts brewing are ones that have your back ruffling against the leather seats. How many of your other clients are connected to Harry? You’re so dizzy from the alcohol in your system, you can’t recall if you glazed over any at the party. But it doesn’t even matter in the end, you’re in distress regardless, the possibility of your clients having connections with him but don’t know who you belong to as they watch you dance. A shiver of guilt courses through.

By the time you get home, Harry and you undress and slip between the arms of each other, and by the time he’s completely wrapped up in you, you forget the man that races your mind. In the morning, Harry is already out the door leaving you to wander around his penthouse all afternoon before heading to your own home, caring for Cleo until it’s time to get ready for work.

Your week goes back to what it regularly is; upkeep of your appearance, different decorative robe, and withering under Harry’s touch. It completely slips your mind about your encounter with Christian, going about your life smiling at the postman from another bouquet or spending your time lodging around Harry’s living room until he gets home.

It’s another one of those days, legs crossed over each other with a magazine in your lap. Eyes drifting over the newest pieces in the Fendi collection while The Real Housewives drags along in the background. The chime of the elevator rings in the space notifying you of Harry’s arrival.

His dress shoes echo heavily amongst the polish floor as they cross the room, the severe sound of his paste has your head trialing up from the glossy booklet.

“Hi baby,” Cheerful voice greeting him, your eyes watch him make his way towards the bar.

Harry decides to ignore you with lips flat and jaw tensing. It’s when seeing the sight of him that you swallow heavily, and when glasses smash against the counter top it makes sweat begin to crease in your palms.

“Is everything okay?” Are your next words, nails curling into the shiny paper as you continue to watch him. He walks across the room, same hash footsteps that halt with his body sitting next to you.

Teeth bite down into your bottom lip as you continue to roam over Harry’s features, it reeks pure anger. Your heart pounding in your chest with toes curling in on themselves trying to control the stress overtaking you.

Maybe it’s another bad day at work? Maybe Johnny pissed him off like he always does? Maybe his anger isn’t directed towards you? So, with that glimmer of thought, your hand stretches out to place the magazine on his lap. Nervous smile peeking through as you look towards him.

“Isn’t this coat beautiful, I wonder if they have it in store?” You suggest, gaze catching between his forest eyes and the brown fur coat embroidered with the Fendi logo.

Harry looks towards the magazine, sight roaming over the image before his hand is closing the book and slapping it onto the center table. The ringing of the glass rattles every vein pulsing through. His actions focus your attention with tears beginning to swell.

He stares at the flowers adorning the surface, hand raising the glass to his lips as he swallows back whisky. The tension in the room is thick and uncomfortable, the expression written over his face is one you’ve never witnessed before. It’s why your nails curl into your pantyhose already leaving faint tears.

Harry clears his throat when pulling the drink away from his lips, tongue peeking out to wet flesh just as his eyes lock with you. Connection holding an eerie exchange that has your mouth run dry.

“You know when you joined me for the party Sunday night, I wondered what made you so flustered when Christrian introduced himself.” The mention of your client has your throat squeeze, tears now stinging your vision.

“Still, I thought nothing of it. He has his fame with his movies, his starlight, whatever… you see I thought that was the reason but no, no, no, that wasn’t why you got flustered, now is it?” Your chest now rises quickly with each breath.

Harry’s mad, screw that, mad is not even the word; he’s vexed, furious, absolutely outraged with eyes wide and each word coming out in an angry spew. The sight is haunting compared to the one you’re so use to.

“Since you don’t know, Christian and I are invested in the same stock, sometimes we have meetings going over bullshit graphs and other stupidness to fund. And when I thought that our usual meetings would go how they normally do, I was surprised when he brought you up.” Your skin is practically radiating more heat than the sun at the moment, you’re caught and sit in front of him in complete shock. “Asking me how I could’ve possibly been able to spend a night with you, how he’s been trying to… well, I don’t even want to say.”

“Harry I’m so sorry—”

“—Oh! So now you’re sorry, not when he smiled in my face and shook my hand?”

You’re the reason why he’s enraged and looking at you with such shame. A storm of tears pounds behind your eyes with nails now ruining your stockings, it was taking everything in you not to cry in front of him.

“Harry, I can’t say anything, I’m under contract.”

Those words have a bitter laugh floating in the air, condescending and threatening that your gaze falls towards the leather cushions. The ice cubes in his glass rattle against each other straining the atmosphere.

“Choose right now, your job or me.” Eyes go wide as they look back up at him. Your mouth wobbles as you swallow nervously.

“What?” Brows push together as your fingers unclench themselves around your knees.

“Right now, choose.” Heart pounds against your chest with thunder, tears begging to fall over your waterline as you look at him in surprise at the ultimatum.

All Harry does is stare back with his intense gaze and clenching hand. The emotions coursing through nearly make you faint, this was all too much, especially right now.

“B —Baby, Harry, I think we should just talk about this,”

“—That’s your answer.” Cutting you off with eyebrows high in question. Once again, your expression wavers with confusion and sadness. Mind still trying to process the events happening.

Your stuttering face has Harry pulling away from your presence with another amused laugh, hand slamming his glass down on the table before he’s leaning forward. The clattering objects make your body shake and tears begin to trickle from your eyes, fingers leave your legs to wipe away the sadness roaming down your cheeks.

You watch Harry begin to loosen his tie, knees raising him off the couch as he moves across the room again. His motions have you immediately following after, heels clicking behind his rushed steps trying to catch up to him.

“Get all your shit and get out!” Harry sneers, stomping up the stairs with yourself following behind in anxious beats.

His words have your heart tearing in half, cry leaving your lips as you try to ignore the water blurring your version and trailing down your skin.

“What? No!” Grabbing at Harry’s hand once reaching the landing, the gesture has his fingers jerk away from yours and continue his venture towards the bedroom.

Marching down the hall until swinging the door open, immediately going to your side of the dresser and beginning to toss your shirts and blouses across the floor, some trailing onto the bed as he empties your things.

“Stop! What are you doing!” You sob, bending to pick up the clothing and trying to shove them back in its place.

“You want to stay at Jasper’s! Fine, go ahead! But I won’t be with you anymore!” His voice booms over you, stinging words cutting deep that has another wave of tears shredding.

“I never said that!” You weep, hands trying to collect his who continues to throw your things. Actions so rushed and furious that he’s not even paying attention to your crying frame.

“It’s clear!” Harry tugs another drawer open tossing all your garments across the room.

“Well I’m not going!” Fingers catching onto the fabric in his hands that leave you both fighting over the piece.

“I don’t want you here! Get out!” Harry's voice roars over the sob that leaves your distraught frame.

You never heard Harry this way, and you’ve never seen him this angry either, and the fact he’s throwing you away as if nothing is leaving you completely broken. Every moment with him has been special since you met, and now the fucked up reveal of your secrets is shattering all that you once were. It’s stomping on your heart and playing in the smashed pieces.

You’re sure the eyeliner and mascara you put on this morning is running all over your cheeks, still your chest heaves heavy breaths as your hands trail up his arms to try and halt his movements. This is not what you want, this is the last thing you expected to happen, and it’s more devastating that it’s unfolding like this.

“H —Harry, please, just stop, you can’t mean this.” Soft voice wavering as you tug on his blazer, nails digging into his skin roughly to get attention.

And it does, his sight cold and jaw clenching from the view of your appearance. The draw down your frame looks as if he’s ashamed, like he doesn’t even want to look at you right now. It’s the sight that makes you want to apologize over and over again.

“How is she in bed? Is she as sweet as I imagine?”

Crack lips part, lashes fluttering with brows drawing together; all your features resemble pure shock at the reiteration of Christian’s words. Now you stand in this room that once held such love and affection be swallowed by heartbreak. Chanel, Prada, Armani, gifts that Harry presented for your own space in his life; they now grace the floor as if a memory long forgotten.

“She always told me she never does those things, kinda’ offended she didn’t reveal to me her added profession.”

Olive eyes shine with distaste looking at your withering appearance. Jaw tensing and fingers still clenching around your shirt. Another shaky breath courses through, examining eyes and twitching mouth not knowing what to say.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to beat the livin’ shit out of him. The way he describes you, talks about you. I had to bite my tongue hearing everything.” Nails relax against his arms with your lips pressing tightly together. “I’m disgusted.”

His words aim to bruise, leaving sadness to blossom in the hollows of your heart. Everything is falling apart right in front of your eyes and all you can do is let tears continue to run. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you say something?

“So choose, Jasper’s or me.”

“You.”

Nodding up at him, the ends of your mouth tug into a timid smile with your hands drawing down to cradle his fingers. His nostrils flare still angry, still completely furious.

The answer doesn’t ease the tension in the room, instead it heightens your decision, the one you should’ve said before fumbling over your words. Shining rays of light pass through the window, brightness gracing over the clothes flung across the space amidst the battlefield of sadness and rage.

“I —I choose you, I’ll leave Jasper’s, I —I’m sorry.” Fingers encasing around his as you step deeper into his presence. Harry retreats into the dresser, chest flexing with grip contracting around the shirt in hand.

Cold eyes don’t break sight over your sniffling appearance. Intimidation radiates from his towering posture that cradles your worried frame. Even fully clothed, Harry eyes undress every vulnerable twitch that courses through, lashes batting up at him heartbroken and needy, always so needy.

“You quit tomorrow.” He demands, hands dropping the garment and gripping the underside of your arm. “You’ll move out of your apartment, stay with me and be my good little doll. Is that clear?” Now it’s your turn for your body to tense. Tear stained cheeks and paint smeared eyes bow under Harry’s gaze.

“Now I don’t want this happening again. I shouldn’t have to do this to show you what you really want.”

His grip over your arm has you stumbling backwards towards the bed, knees cushioning your seated position as Harry’s other hand goes towards your neck, holding your gaze as he looks over you.

The room captures two lovers; one manipulative with his calculating actions, while the other is victim to the love prayed over with affection and money. His behavior is overseen by your emotions so easily embraced by him. It’s why you stare at him in virtue despite everything that has transpired in your life already, the one that’s now completely devoted to Harry.

“I hate to make you cry… but you look so pretty.”

Thumb spreads over your skin as his head cranes down, lips gazing over each other as his eyes continue to examine your hesitant frame. He loves the way your breath quivers as he moves closer, body shifting against his grip as he looms over your frame in complete awe of you.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. You know I’ll take care of you, I always do… and with Jasper’s, that place holds you back, you know that, don’t you?” Fingers shaking your head playfully with his sight still never trailing off your bitten lip and doe eyes. “You’ll love it here, keep my bed nice and warm. Won’t you, darling?”

“Yes.”

Though agreeing with everything Harry says, the feeling of your heart trying to repair itself cracks even more at the obligations being set in place. Restrictions now apply over your life to be with him. It’s scary, and alarming, and you should really catch your breath and think over everything he’s saying but you don’t, not with his hand cradling your skin and eyes drawing you in.

“No more dancing, no more clients, just me.”

Nodding your head again with deep breath releasing, your fingers curl around the material of your velvet dress. Heart paces with sorrow realizing you won’t be wrapped up in your long tulle robe, receive generous tips, or have your girl talk surrounded by vanity lights.

“If I find out about another one I’ll kill them. Swear to god I will.” Chest quivers as his words float along your face. Intense stare watching the way you swallow heavily and bow your head at him.

“I’m sorry.” Soft voice slipping past your lips as the storm behind your eyes calms down. Fingers that once ruffled against your dress rise up and close around his wrist, lashes batting up at him with a shaky smile.

“Only you, it’s only ever been you.”

Harry tightens his grip around your jaw. Sight still surveying your anxious frame, his other hand runs down your face before tucking hair away. The ends of his lips tug up at the same time he’s shaking your head playfully, again.

Just like always, his demeanor radiates satisfaction at your attention. Heart growing fond of you surrendering yourself, complying to every requirement. Harry falls more in love with the way he can control you, how you’re now his entirely. He’s happy knowing that he’ll come home to your pretty self waiting for him and ready for anything he proposes, all because you’re just that dedicated to please him.

It’s why his head lowers, lips connecting against your bitten ones. The grip over your jaw sliding down your neck, rubbing the skin roughly as tongues link together to dance. Ignorance of the heated scene passing over both of your minds while his hand tightens.

The bourbon on his tongue adds to the intoxicating sensation that runs through you whenever you taste him. It’s the type that you want passing through your own veins just loving it that much, loving him that much. Harry cares about you, isn’t it obvious? He wants what’s best for you, that’s why he’s making you leave Jasper’s and have you live with him to spend the rest of your days.

His hand curls around your neck, mouths parting as his sight goes back to examining your face. There’s still pink roaming across the hollows of your eyes, cheeks a mess of black liner, and daze still twinkling up at him.

“Show me how sorry you are.”

Darting sight looks between his smirk and preying self, knees pushing off the bed to fall to the floor with connection never breaking. His hands follow every motion of your head as it nods at him, your fingers going to his belt and immediately beginning to undo it.

Thick bulge pressed tightly against his zipper revealing how turned on he got at the heated exchange. Your hand releases him from his boxers while your other tugs the rest of his slacks down, mouth not waiting to accept him graciously. Shallow taste of salt on your tongue as it twirls around his head, eyes blinking up as you apologize in his favorite way.

Lips bubble with spit as you roam down his length, clear fluid coating him in the rush of your descent, the urgent need to display how sorry you are shows.

Your mouth parts lowering yourself around him, tongue laying flat along the underside craving out every pulsing vein beneath erect skin. The warmth of you wrapping around his cock has a relieving sigh pass through him.

“Be my perfect girl.” Fingers massaging your scalp as you continue to swallow him down. “Show me how sorry you are.”

Harry watches every bob of your head, plump lips sucking him and feeling your throat relax and accept him effortlessly. Connection shimmers with obedience as you prove to him how guilty you feel for thinking you wouldn’t choose him over anything.

Acknowledging his comments your mouth descends down his cock even further, neck contracting around his length as your nose tickles his pelvis, moan stifles against him at the way he stretches your throat. The effect of him between your lips already has your pussy throbbing, wetness beginning to coat your folds falling into his every tactic.

The hand placed on his thigh moves towards his dick, enclosing around it and gliding with every bob of your head, added pleasure being received happily as his fingers curl into your locks.

“Just like that,” Harry coos, hips thrusting into your motions as you continue swallowing him down.

Shivers of delight course through happy you’re pleasing him. It’s reassuring hearing his groan over your movements. Knees shuffling across the floor, strands of hair shifting with every dip and saliva causing his cock to glisten in the light.

It’s beautiful how it shines, mini air bubbles roaming along the nerves pulsating along your tongue. It was a sight to see, a sight you adore. It’s why your body tries to contain yourself from the sparks igniting. You’re happy to apologize to him, happy to show him that he’s the only one for you.

The expressions of pleasure slipping from Harry uplifts your spirit, you’re back on his good side, and you want to remain there. The look of disgust that once crossed his face is one you never want to see again, especially his words. You’re supposed to be his good doll, not one to lie or deceive him. That’s why you’re on your best behavior, doing anything to prove yourself.

“I’ll do anything to show you that you’re the only one I want.” Fingers tightening around his length that has him groaning from the look over your face, eyes caught on your forgiving frame that he can’t help but smirk. Palms now hold your face up in his favorite place. “You always treat me so good, I’m sorry baby.”

Hand continues to roam down his cock in twists, easily sliding with spit as your gaze doesn’t break. Needy eyes and pouty lips, it’s Harry's favorite image of you; and with your makeup all streaked down your cheeks, he wants this moment to be photographed so he can save it in his wallet to show how devoted you are to pleasing him.

His grip over you halts your movements, fingers roughly carrying your face towards him as your knees flex with gasp falling from your lips, his actions have your hands contract and draw away.

“Show me.”

The words guide your movements to reach behind your back. Nails catching on your zipper to draw it down your frame. Fitted dress falling down your body as your heels are next, toes slipping out of your pumps and touching the heated wood, and with each movement of you shredding off your panties and stockings, Harry is there watching your every move while he strokes himself.

The soft skin of your curves sit on display for him to admire. Swelling breasts so perfect and round, thighs so deliciously smooth and begging to be in his hold. God, Harry is in love with you. Every vulnerable inch of yourself is exposed for his greedy eyes. It’s why he begins undressing himself; dress shoes kicking off, slacks joining the mess on the floor, and every button of his dress shirt revealing inked skin under your gaze.

“Turn around.”

Following his command, you do. Eyes staring at all your clothes thrown over the space, nails drawing down your thighs eagerly as you hear ruffling behind you.

“Get on the bed, face down.”

Legs bend, knees ruffling against the sheets while your spine curves in. The side of your face is comforted by your slick blouse as your hands reach out in front of you, fingers curling around loose garments with your pussy set on display.

Harry’s steps shift amongst the floor, palm sliding to your lower back shoving you deeper into the bed as the head of his cock drags down your creamy folds.

“Look so pretty like this baby.” Dick pushing past your lips and spreading you wide. Your mouth hangs open, a satisfied moan trailing into the air of Harry stretching you out with all his length. “I love when you tell me you’re sorry.”

Whimpers spill, head rotating in pleasure as your hips jerk with each pound of his. Harry draws out slowly before thrusting back in roughly, each strike filling your pussy just the way you like. It never mattered what position you found yourselves in, he was always reaching parts of you that had your toes curling, and the fact that he’s pounding away not even allowing you to adjust sends a greedy sensation through you.

Harry is using your pussy just the way you like; fucking you however he pleases like the doll you are to him. It’s exhilarating, it’s mind numbing, leaving you light headed and addicted to every strike opening you wide.

“That’s right… take my dick.” Deafening slap roaming against your ass. It has your teeth biting into the silk and push against his thrusts with adrenaline coursing through.

“Baby,” Nails curling tightly into your shirts, while his grip over your hips controls you to accept every hungry pound.

Harry surveys your jolting frame, flexing back and shoulders craning as your arms roam higher up the sheets. Fingers drag and curl around the piles of mess lying across the sheets, plump lips hanging open in adoration at his urgent thrusts.

You look so beautiful like this, are his immediate thoughts floating in his mind; the way you grant him pleasure within the depths of your body that he loves to sink into, so beautiful.

Every delicious sound of your voice crying out in a whimper or moan just drives his hips even more, hands slipping up your neck and shoving your head into the blouse, hungry growl leaving him as your eyes squeeze shut with your pussy quivering around him. God does he love you so much, don’t you see that? Don’t you feel it? With every rock of his hips don’t you feel the electric pulse of him, how he’s so hungry craving more of your sweetness.

It’s the smirk that carries across his lips with knowledge that you know, you have to. Because with every coat of your nectar sliding down and accepting his cock he can feel your walls tighten and release; skin folding between your brows, knuckles going white from your grip over the sheets, pussy accepting every assault that you admire so much. Yes, he’s sure you know.

“Tell me you’re sorry.” He demands, chest parallel to your shoulders as he mounts you into the bed.

Harry’s hips have your body bouncing into the springs, face squishing and wheezing sighs of air passing through the thin material of your top. He’s so intoxicating the way he fucks you into the bed and shows you were you belong.

“I’m sorry!” Moaning while your fingers drag down the bed in agony at the ticks of your climax crawling through your foot.

“I’m so, so, sorry,” Voice going hoarse as your thighs quiver, eyes fluttering open to see lace and silk engulf your vision.

“Mhm, don’t you want to be my good girl?” Thrusts never halting as he continues to pound away at your cervix.

“Yes, god, yes!” Head straining against his hold as your stomach clenches with nerves.

Harry continues going, erratic thrusts of his cock in your drenched pussy, the sound of his hips plummeting your backside meets with every groan and whimper trailing in the air. The sounds drawing from the room float all the way into the hallway, each other's appetite being fulfilled in the messy foundation of your relationship.

“That’s my perfect girl,” Harry hums, lips pressing into your bobbing head as you completely unravel around him.

Hypnotic pulses sting down your spine as your head twists in his hold, teeth bite into the sheets as your pussy quivers all around him. Chest heaves as your mind goes completely blank, every thought and emotion is wrapped in him, loving everything he does.

“Oh my god, Harry,” Whining while you go sore around him as he continues his torment.

“That’s it baby… I feel you.” He breathes into your ear, hand releasing around your neck, the hold of you around his cock adds to him moaning into your sweating skin. “So good for me, just the way I like.”

Hips slowly dive back in, motions changing from their rough propelling paste to affectionate loving strokes. So exhilarating and passionate as he feels your body go limp around him.

It’s in the way your mouth parts, salvia stringing between your plump lips that Harry groans heavily against you. The mess of your hair mattes against his, the smell of your shampoo filling his nose as your back ruffles against his chest. Ticking sensations coursing through still leaving you feeling drowsy with your climax consuming you.

The dazed expression crossing your face is a captivating site, one that has Harry spilling into you, long moan brushing over your face as he relaxes into your body. Two hearts in the same room trying to regulate their breathing as they come down from the adrenaline that once pierced you into the sheets.

You feel Harry go slack, cock slipping out as he rolls off your body. You still breathe in shaky breaths, waist falling into the mattress as your thighs ruffle against the garments with limbs twitching from the waves of your release still coursing through.

As your mind continues to wander itself through fog you don't realize Harry sitting up in bed and putting himself back together, feet shuffling across the floor as he walks around the bed frame.

The noise catches your attention first before the sight of him entering the bathroom, and even despite him just fucking you brutally into the sheets he still looks upset.

“Clean up this mess and get ready for dinner, reservation is for seven.” Is all he says, the bathroom door slamming shut ending further conversation, only meaning that your apology isn’t accepted.

For thirty minutes you sit across from each other and let silence eat you up. Nails picking the skin around your cuticles, teeth biting into flesh while Harry on the other hand is extremely relaxed. Poised, professional, and avoiding your presence as if you’re not even there.

It’s over dinner that you realize, no matter how many times you try to shine your pearly white teeth or strike up a conversation, if Harry is in a bad mood that means you suffer in the projection of his feelings.

You can’t even be surprised by his anger, it’s really what you expect. You lied for days just for him to find out from Christian himself, and to make it even worse, he talked about you in a way that even made your skin crawl.

Harry avoided you for the rest of the night; no eye contact, no kisses, and no cuddling once in bed. It sinks your soul knowing you’re the reason behind the way he’s treating you at the moment, but it’s only right you endure this. It’s your fault.

That’s why you aren’t surprised when you wake up to the text from him reminding you of what’s needed today. The one thing you never thought would happen so soon. No more decorative feathers, no more giggling and suggestive talks, no more tips and dancing, no more Jasper. Three years gone, the memories you have are ones you hold dear; it’s why it pains you right now.

Looking at yourself in the goblet mirror adoring the dresser, that was previously pulled apart in a furious rage, tears prick your eyes recalling all the fond moments. Girls helping out with makeup, advice on which robe to wear, gossiping about clients, god, you’ll miss it all. But, it’s better this way. It’s better to have Harry take care of you, it’s nice really. You don’t have to worry about other men touching you, or whispering what they would like to do if given the chance. Sure, the money was nice and all but, Harry gives you anything you ask for, so maybe it isn’t that bad. Maybe, it’ll be okay.

“Miss, the car is ready for you.” Knock at the door awakening you from your thoughts. You inhale sharply, fingers running through your hair nervously as you nod at yourself.

“Okay, I’ll be right down!” You call, back turning and grabbing your coat.

The drive to Jasper’s is quiet, the streets outside the truck don’t puncture the memories that you reminisce about. Working your ass off at such a young age from waitressing to odd jobs, Jasper’s was a breath of fresh air despite the downside of dancing and late nights, you began to live a life of luxury, the life you always dreamed about. You did it by yourself, on your own and you’re proud about that. You could’ve given up at any moment but instead you pulled through, and now look, you found someone who’s going to take care of you.

Despite the tension between you and Harry at the moment, it’s obvious he wants to keep you by his side, should you really object to that? You spend the majority of your time with him, he always takes you out to dinner, buys whatever you want, and shows you love whenever needed (disregarding the current circumstance) so it really isn’t like his suggestions aren’t true. You’ll be better off with Harry, you know deep down this slippery slope that it will get better, and once you move in it’ll be easier just to please him. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

Once Harry's team helps you out of the truck and to your familiar destination the surge of anxiety scorches through. Heart beating erratically, fingers fidgeting in your coat, eyes move in every direction as you tug your way to his office. It pains you to be in this situation, and you would do everything to not stand here right now facing the same door that welcomed you with open arms but now it’s too late.

Your palm curls around the golden knob and an uneasy smile tugs at your lips, seeing Jasper’s low eyes and ruffled hair. It only brings back so many memories, ones that you’ll remember forever.

“Y/N! My sweetheart!” Jasper stands, walking around the desk and opening up his arms.

You immediately go towards him. Hands wrapping around his back and ingesting the smell of coffee and cigarettes. Weirdly it calmed you down, settling the uneasiness through you as you lay against his chest.

The first time you ever met Jasper there was always a loving connection between you both, as if father and daughter. Southern accent and tired look never giving off irritation or displeasure whenever around. Always treating everyone with such kindness and respect, he never changed since you first met him, and that’s what you like most about him. Jasper is Jasper.

“My dear girl, it feels like forever since I last saw you,” Pulling away he smiles, crooked teeth and chapped lips shining as you bow your head in acknowledgment.

“I know, I know, I’ve been really busy lately.” You confide, eyes darting between him and the birds that roam outside the window.

Jasper sighs looking over your frame before stepping back. His hand gestures to the chairs seated in front of the desk. You immediately oblige, legs crossing over each other with hands curling together in your lap. Now you wish you could nestle in his chest just like a few seconds ago, burrow yourself into the coffee smell and forget the reason why you’re in this office.

“Yes, I see, you've been taking your vacation days quite often.” The words only elect an anxious draw of breath. Now your palms begin to grow with sweat, and you swear your ears start to ring from your mind racing.

“Yes, sir. I just thought… I —I… um,” Stuttering not knowing what to say or where to direct your attention. Your heart is going crazy in your chest, pounding so hard against its cage that you might pass out. “I found someone.”

You basically whisper those words but Jasper, he hears and he smiles. It’s one that knows the secret without having to hear the reveal. You’re sure it is written all over your face, and with the grin that tugs across his lips, you calm down just a bit.

“Is it Styles?” You blink with mouth parted and pain quaking throughout your bones.

“Y/N…” He sighs, hand brushing through his messy hair as he leans back in his chair. “I looked through your client log, I’ve seen Styles was your regular for about two months or so until he stopped returning; in that same time you begin using your vacation days. It quirked my interest so I decided to go through the security cameras during that time frame and…”

Your whole entire body goes hot, ears burning, and stomach turning, quite frankly you want to throw up. You’re stupid to forget about the hidden cameras in the room. God, of course this happens to you. Of course your boss saw you in every imaginable way within the two months Harry spent still coming here. You want to curl into a ball and forget this even happened.

“Dear…” Jasper breathes again, concerned look written all over his face despite your raging appearance. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Those are in there to protect everyone, and we’re humans, it’s natural, so don’t think too much about it, alright?”

You nod your head timidly as your leg begins to bob, you drop your head and try your best to not let tears run down your cheeks. You already went through a crying fit yesterday and you’re not going through another one again.

“You already know my thoughts on you Y/N. You’ve been my star since you walked into this place. I just want you to be safe.” Chin tilting your version to look back up at the concerned boss who was like a father to you. This couldn’t get any worse. Having to leave everything you know behind, this absolutely sucks.

“I know Styles… I know the life he lives isn’t the best and it’s definitely not the happiest. I just want you to fully understand what you’re getting yourself into.” Jasper leans forward, hand reaching out for yours which you don’t hesitate to give. You don’t hold back anymore, letting the tears trickle down slowly as you breathe in, throat straining from this moment, the one you still can’t believe is happening.

“I’ll be fine, Jasper. I know I will.” You nod with reassurance, free hand swiping away the tears that still spill. His fingers curl around yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles trying to sooth you but, when that isn’t enough he steps around the desk, body engulfing your shaking frame as you try to regain some composure.

“Grace and I are always here, you know that darling. You don’t gotta worry.” Hand patting your hair as you nod into his stomach, nose sniffing through the space.

“I know…” You sigh. Peeling away from his presence, a small smile on your lips as you look up at him. “This isn’t a goodbye, I promise.”

Jasper nods his head softly, tired expression still lingering as he looks over your frame while he continues to run his hands over your locks. The action soothes you. The storm brewing inside calms itself, the current subsiding and the tears that once roam down your cheeks halt. Your heart quiets down, chest relaxing with head drawing away from him as you wipe away any streaks.

You stand to wrap around him once again, breathing in his usual scent just hoping the clock can turn back time and things can go back to how they once were. Jasper rocks you, letting all the pulsing veins in your body rest and ease your shaking body to a halt.

“I’ll miss you.” You breathe into his chest before looking up at him. The smile you adore shines brightly as he pats your lower back.

“This is home darling, you’ll always know where to find me if needed, alright?” Jasper reassures. Nodding up at him once more, you pull away and offer a genuine grin.

Departing from his touch there’s a sense of loneliness spreading through. Giving up your work and home to live with Harry, in hindsight, there’s nothing wrong with having him take care of you, if anything you should be happy that he’s willing to do that. It shows the love he has for you but, why in this moment does it feel like you’re giving up your life; not on your terms but his.

When closing the chestnut door the walk down the familiar hallway is bittersweet. Intricate designs plastered on every inch of the walls, gold fixtures shining against the dim light before you reach the elevator and ring it back to the main floor.

Every chime is one you cherish no matter how stupid it may seem, the sound is sentimental and will forever be ingrained in your memory from the many nights your tall heels would stand in the moving machine. Your eyes dance around the revolving mirrors and lit up numbers, your fingers tracing over the covers and drinking them in as it will be the last time you’ll probably press them again.

The ding of the elevator thrusts you out of your thoughts and through the doors, it’s to your surprise once leaving that ginger hair and beaming smile greet you. The sweet aroma of her perfume wafts your senses as she pulls you into a hug, fur and strands of hair prickle against your skin as you lean into her touch.

“Hey babe! You’re working with me today?” Grace asks while pulling away, happiness written all over her features.

“Uh… no actually, just had to speak to Jasper,” You say, concealing the truth with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Don’t blame him, I barely see you anymore,” She jabs, hand gently shoving you which leaves you shaking your head in response.

“I’m busy, what can I say?” You shrug raising your hands up playfully to surrender.

“Yeah, busy being under Harry any chance you get,” It’s her turn to roll her eyes and nudge you with her hip. “But, hey! Angelo actually got me a booth tonight at his club, why don’t you and Harry come!” Grace suggests. Hazel eyes and white teeth shine with excitement at her offer.

You’ve never been with him in that sort of setting before, and honestly you don’t know how he’ll be either. But, you both are also not on great terms, so maybe a night out with some drinks and dancing will do you both some good.

“Uh, yeah, that actually sounds fun. I’ll ask him.” You beam with fakeness. “I actually should get going now, the car is waiting for me.”

“Okay! Hope to see you tonight!” Grace grins, pulling you into another hug before going to her destination.

Nodding your head timidly, you watch her orange hair bounce down the hall until her body disappears. A shaky breath escapes as you turn towards the entrance, hands fitting into your pockets as you push the doors open. The brisk air sweeps through as you tug your way towards the truck. Sincere smile spreads as Elio helps you into the vehicle before getting behind the wheel.

“Should I inform Mr. Styles that everything went as expected?” He calls from the front. Your hand tears away from their place and swipes away the lingering strands of hair combing over your face.

“Yes, it went well.” You sigh, eyes looking out the window as the car begins to move. The French pillars trail out of your version, leaving your heart splitting down the middle at the conclusion of your life.

“Actually Elio, can you do me a favor and ask Harry something for me?”

Surprise is an understatement with the fact you're walking through the club with music thumping your ear drums. Harry’s hand is secured tightly amongst your hips while the floor shakes from the erratic beat coursing through. With all the bodies shuffling through the room, you’re happy Harry’s team is pushing people through the mess directing you where to go.

You didn’t think he would agree to coming out tonight, but when he did you couldn’t have been anything but ecstatic. You threw on your tightest dress and curled your hair just the way he likes, also opting to wear the perfume he complimented on how irresistible you smell. Tonight you were going to win him back the way you know how.

“Yay! I’m so happy you came!” Grace screams over the song while pulling you into a hug.

“Oh my god!” Lucy joins, wrapping around you both. The feeling of another body being engulfed in the circle only means it’s Clarissa. The grin on your face spreads wider at the moment, head knocking around until they all pull apart.

“Hot lil’ thing aren’t you,” Clarissa remarks once pulling away. Her hand collects yours to twirl you around and display your appearance, the action only leaves you laughing as you smile at your friends.

“Thank you, thank you,” Rolling your eyes playfully as she releases her hold. The fitted black garment hugs your curves deliciously while your heels accentuate the length of your legs.

“But… everyone meet Harry,” You say, sight darting to him as you let your arm wrap around his waist, head leaning onto his chest as he smiles stiffly at your group of friends.

“Hello!” He nods to each, colourful strobes shine over everyone in the reserved area as all your friends introduce themselves.

“This bottle of Don Julio isn’t gonna finish itself!” Grace screams, picking the lengthy bottle off the table and raising in the air. It makes you giggle before turning to Harry with eyebrows raised.

“Let’s have fun tonight, yeah?” You say, hand running up his stomach before turning towards Grace who's already pouring shots for everyone.

After that, the night is in full swing; neon lights flashing over sweaty bodies, alcohol either being passed around in short glasses or poured into mouths messily, confetti shoots in the air every few moments as music blasts through the speakers.

The atmosphere in the booth is an energetic thrill, everyone getting along by singing and dancing, laughter and cheers filling the air as liquor takes over everyones system and leaves them in a good mood.

It’s in the flashing message board bringing another bottle that you realize how intoxicated you really are. The lights blinking at you seem to shift slowly, the music sounding through the space drowns out in a blur of noise as you stumble your way towards Harry, half empty Patron in your hand as you step in front of him.

“Open please!” You giggle up at him, fingers swinging the drink in hand while wiggling eyebrows.

“I’m good love,” Harry smiles down at you, his fingers finding their place on your hip as you pout at him.

“No! Tell him he needs to loosen up,” Turning your attention to Angelo who laughs at the exchange, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” You huff, rolling your eyes yet slipping deeper into Harry’s warmth. If he doesn’t want to take anymore shots then you surely will, you raise the clear bottle to your mouth, lips parting and happily willing to accept the liquor till you feel his hands tear it away from your hold.

“Trust me darling, you don’t need anymore,” Harry points out and passes the bottle to Angelo.

It only has you pouting, you wanted to have fun and you wanted Harry to loosen up some more, but you’ll accept his decision with another eye roll and trailing back over to your friends who are even more drunk than you.

“Bottoms up!” Lucy screams as she pours Clase Azul into your mouth, the amount so much you have to clasp your hand around her wrist to tear the bottle away.

“Ew,” You laugh, after swallowing the sickening amount, leaving Clarissa to chuckle at your reaction. Eyeing Grace across the section, you gesture for you to come towards you.

Happily complying she joins between the three as lights flash across your glistening bodies. The white and blue bottle gets exchanged between your friends, all taking shots before placing it on the table. As the neon strobes continue to flash and confetti fills the air, the DJ yells into the mic something inaudible until the song he puts on has the crowd cheering.

“Ah! Catch me slidin’ in a Benz, I ain’t looking for no man,” Clarissa screams her body turning towards you as her hips begin to sway. You can’t help the laugh that leaves as Lucy turns and grins at you.

“Ain’t recruiting no new friends! Louie bag filled with bands!” Grace is next as she dances behind the blonde, her head swinging seductively as she moves to the beat.

The energy is so ecstatic between the group that you find yourself joining in. Hips swiveling into Clarissa’s as your hands find themselves venturing toward her neck, fingers carding through her hair as you match the rhythm of her. The comfort of her palms trails down your sides, teasingly tugging the bottom of your dress up as you grind against each other.

“Get it, Sexy! Get it, Sexy!” Lucy cheers along with the song, her body leaning over and tapping your thigh as you and Clarissa manage to grind yourself lower towards the floor.

Laughter leaves both of your mouths as you continue circling your hips against each other, your head knocks back against her shoulder as you let the alcohol consume every motion while the song continues to thunder in your ears.

From your dazed out state to blurry vision, the rough grip over your hand tangled in Clarissa’s hair rips itself away as you stumble over your feet, nearly falling, as you’re being pulled out the booth and down the stairs. The movements are so fast you barely even catch yourself tripping down the flight and across the floor.

“Ow, stop,” You whine, feeling the pain in your wrist increase as the sight of Harry’s curly hair tug you through the mountain of bodies.

The crowds of people brush past you in a rough breeze, elbows and drinks hitting your moving body as you continue to be pulled away from the rambunctious scene.

“Harry you’re hurting me!” Yelling over the music as you try to twist around in his hold, still that doesn’t halt his motions as he continues pushing through the crowd.

It’s when cold air hits your skin and fills your nose do you breathe in a sigh of relief. Your hand jerks out of his grip as you look at him completely furious. “What the fuck are you doing!”

Yet, Harry ignores you, his body struts down the sidewalk past people throwing up or walking around slouched over their friends. And, instead of watching him continue to move further down the path you immediately follow, heels clicking against the cement as chatter and car horns fill the street.

“Hello! Can you talk to me please,” Drunkenly calling out for him as you trail behind like a dog, his footsteps rushed and harsh as the familiar black truck comes into view.

“Get in. Now.” Every word is a bite of aggression but in your drunken state you barely pay any mind as he holds the door open and watches your sluggish body climb into the vehicle.

“What’s your problem?” You mumble, back fitting into the leather seat as you watch Harry peel his phone out of his pocket, still ignoring you.

His voice rings through the space only leaving you to direct your attention to look outside the parked vehicle, vision shifting in slow twists that has you groaning. Hand rises to your forehead in frustration that it feels as if the car is spinning even though it’s parked.

The jostle of the truck shifts as the door slams close, your head peels up to see Elio in his familiar place as the car roars awake. The vehicle immediately peeling off, leaving the street lights from outside to flutter in.

“Why are we leaving?” You’re back to slurring over your words as you turn towards Harry, confusion evident in your expression while he looks cold as ever.

“The hell was that?” He hisses, eyes burning holes in your appearance but you can’t even tell from the alcohol shifting your vision, which leaves you giggling at his response.

“What was what?” Laughing faintly as your hands pull down the end of your dress.

“You’re a mess.” Harry scoffs, head shaking as he turns to look out the window.

Even drunk those words struck a cord within you, brows pushing together as you sit up in your chair and cock your head to the side.

“No, I’m not, don’t say that!” Your voice raising as your jaw tenses, the alcohol in your system fueling anger as you look at him distraught.

“Don’t say that? Look at you! Dancing and touching your friends like that, are you serious?!” Harry’s voice is booming over yours but in your state you don’t even care, you let your tone rise higher. The both of you look at each other livid.

“I’m having fun Harry, I’m at the club,” You respond, hands tearing away from your dress and crossing over themselves amongst your chest.

“It shows you have no class! No morals!” He snaps, nose flaring and hand slamming against the window of the truck.

“No class? No morals? Do I need to remind you where we met! Fuck you! You’re so insecure!” You’re shouting, chest rising heavily as your face screws up.

The laugh that leaves Harry is menacing, with his head shaking in disbelief, a cheery smile tugging across his lips. “Insecure?”

“Yes, insecure and jealous! What’s so wrong with me dancing with my friends!” You wouldn’t be surprised if your voices were heard outside of the car, and you actually feel bad for Elio having to hear the exchange of words. “Fuck! You’re making me so mad!”

“How do you think I feel?”

“You’re the one who started this!”

As the usual sight of Harry’s building fixes your version you’re immediately sitting up and tugging your dress down. The truck comes to a halt; you don’t wait for Elio to help you out as you peel your door open and begin making your way towards the entrance. Your ears burn with anger as your nose scrunches up, heels smacking against tiles as you press the elevator button erratically.

“Stop acting like a child,” Harry hisses once meeting your body, his key pressing into the sensor to allow access to the elevator for his penthouse.

“Fuck you,” You utter, eyes still staring ahead as your step into the machine.

Harry waves off Elio, his body retreating next to yours as you both stand in complete silence. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as your head shakes in pure frustration.

The chime of the elevator dings and your body immediately rushes through the open space of the living room, hair swishing against your neck as you practically speed walk through the room.

“Get over here!” Harry demands, voice rough and loud but you don’t listen, you keep your pace and venture up the stairs.

“Leave me alone!” You call back, his heavy footsteps sounding behind you as you walk down the hall.

“You’re not going out with your friends again!” He shouts following your body as you enter the bedroom.

“Like I’m going to listen to you,” You scoff heading towards the closet until Harry is gripping your waist roughly and turning you towards him.

“You’re running thin with me. Watch your fuckin’ mouth.” Each word a whispered hiss as he looks at you darkly. His hair framing his forehead as his lips press together, jaw tensing and hold growing tighter.

“I can’t stand you. You’re so controlling.” Your only response, as your eyes watch his dilate before his touch is turning you around roughly and pushing you into the mattress abruptly.

“Controlling? I’ll show you controlling.”

Your moving arms are caught in his hold as he tugs them behind your back. His other hand reaches down and pulls your dress over your hips to reveal your backside. Body moving against his hold as your head turns around seeing him in your peripheral vision.

“Harry,” You mutter, his palm roaming over your backside before it’s landing a smack amongst your skin.

He only grunts in response, hands smoothing over your ass before placing another slap. The harsh feeling over your backside has you biting into the sheets with pain and pleasure coursing through, the anger that once filled your body subsides as you fight yourself from moaning against his touch.

“You’ve been such a bad girl lately? What’s gotten into you?” Harry states, another harsh smack reddening your skin as the grip holding your hands together tightens.

Teeth graze the material of the sheets, eyes rolling at the adrenaline coursing through at each slap as your head relaxes into the mattress. Your chest breathes in deeply, fingers curling in on each other as your thighs shake against the bed frame.

“What’s your colour?” Harry demands, another furious strike coursing through your body. Your eyes squeeze shut as you whimper into the sheets.

Instead of answering you just bury your head deeper into the bed, mouth releasing the duvet as you bite back moans dying to trail out.

“Don’t hold out on me baby,” Harry chuckles, so deep and sinister that your spine crawls at the sound. “I know you like this.”

Teasing voice so sexy that your toes clench against each other amongst the pad of your heels, breasts caving deeper into the blanket while your hips jerk up at the deafening sound cracking against your cheeks.

“Fuck,” You cry, teeth biting into your bottom lip as a rush of thrill courses through and has your pussy throbbing.

“What’s your colour?” He asks again, his hand sliding between your cheeks and feeling between your legs to touch your heat.

The feeling of him taunting you by rubbing over your clothes or bruising your skin red is an addicting one, it has you rustling against the sheets praying for more even though you should be fighting these feelings.

“G —Green,” You breathe into the sheets so quietly that it only beckons another rough slap to welcome itself across your skin.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you love, speak up louder, what did you say?” Luring tone in his voice only has you groaning at his tantalizing ways.

Another smack meets your cheeks so harshly that your spine shoots up and heels chime against the floor. You’re sure your skin is bruised in different colour hues from the amount of strikes that he applies across your skin; and with the alcohol in your system still pumping through your veins, you can’t help the lengthy moan that slips out.

“Green,” You squeak, head shifting amongst the sheets as the feeling of the grip over your hands relaxes. His palm smooths over your backside once again before diving between and feeling over your covered folds.

“Tell me baby, why do you like making me upset?” Harry asks, fingertips dragging down your pussy with aggression that has you shuddering.

“I don’t,” You sigh, thighs quivering against the bed frame as you fall deeper into his touch.

“That’s what you think? Two days in a row you’ve been giving me problems. I don’t like that.” Fingers slipping between your panties to feel your pussy nearly soaking from the exchange of his actions.

“Harry,” You moan, eyes fluttering when you feel the pads of him grace your clit.

“Huh? What was that?” Hand tearing away from between your legs and roaming back up your scorching skin.

“S —Sir, I’m sorry sir,” Body shivering from his touch roaming up and down your exposed flesh.

“Still not good enough.” Harry’s voice deep and gruff as his hands fit under your tight dress, feeling over your heated skin before he’s tugging it over your head. “Come on darling, I know you can do better than that.”

“I —I’m sorry, Mr. Styles.” Words still slurring from the alcohol in your system to his mesmerizing aura.

“That’s my girl. Now, be a good doll and turn around for me.” The sound of your dress falling to the floor is heard as you turn around under his hold, eyes connecting on his dazzling ones that shine with the moonlight pouring through the window.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Harry’s body looming over you as his hands dance up your sides, sliding amongst your clammy skin and feeling over your erect nipples. The touch is so slow and daring that you can’t help but whimper. “I hate when you upset me.”

His fingers grip your round flesh while his eyes skim over every curve and dip; your body flexes along with the shadows in the dark room, fingers feeling against the sheets below as you don’t dare break contact, not with the way he’s looking as if he wants to devour you.

“That’s why right now, you’re my toy. My little toy that’s been so nasty and filthy lately.” Hands drawing back down your sides, sinking past your hips and towards your pussy once again. “So dirty dancing like that on your friends.”

Your teeth bite into your bottom lip, thighs spreading wider accepting his touch while your head buries itself deeper into the mattress. His words only fuel the slick coursing through your pussy.

“You want to be a slut… so, I’ll treat you like one.” Fingers now slip into you only causing a moan to trail out. His lengthy digits thrust into you roughly that have your eyes open wider as he stares longingly at your reaction, smirk tugging at the ends of his lips.

“Play with you however I like… use you just the way I want.” Digits driving out just to plunge back in, the ends of his fingers curling deeply into your pussy that your mouth hangs open in surprise. Harry just started penetrating you and already your stomach was tickling with static.

“Teach you how to be my good little doll, hmm?” Harry continues, brow raising in question as his smile is still sinister from the expression crossing over your face.

As one hand is pleasing your throbbing pussy, the other lands one backhanded slap across your cheek completely surprising you but not enough that it doesn’t stop you from moaning softly and runting your hips against his motions.

“You’re pussy is mine to play with, do you understand?”

Your head bows urgently as you suck in a deep breath, lashes fluttering up at him as his tongue peeks out of his mouth to smooth across his bottom lip.

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

Pearly white teeth shine at your doe expression continuing the rough thrusts of his fingers. Sweet nectar coating him with each curl that leaves you keening high in your throat.

“It’s mine to use and abuse,” Harry states, suited body covering over you as he examines every twitch in your face consumed with pleasure. “Your pussy belongs to me.”

Every comment is tingling your spine and has your lashes batting up at him so in love. Each word is degrading and brutal, words that should have you distraught but they don’t, they have another moan leaving your mouth as you accept the his urgent stroke of his fingers.

“Fuck, yes, Mr. Styles.” Your own hands curling into the sheets, thighs beginning to shake and head lolling back.

Harry surveys every inch of your skin that twitches and squirms from his hold over you. He admires watching your stomach quiver, and the way your pussy pulses in his palm has the erection in his pants press painfully against the zipper.

“Mhmm… I like how things are turning around now.” He smiles, digits leaving you to rub your slick all along your folds, spreading you wide as your thighs contract around him.

A whimper falls from your bitten lips as the warmth of Harry leaves. His hands go to undress himself, and as every piece of expensive clothing trails off and reveals the inked skin that you love so much, you can’t help but reach out and touch the tattoos roaming amongst his love handles.

“Gonna start being my good girl?” Harry demands, his body adjusting around your frame as he begins to tap himself along your folds.

The feeling has you shuddering, blinking up at him between your legs as you raise up on your elbows to get a better look. His cock rubbing against your clit, muscles tightening while he still stares as if wanting to ruin you.

“My personal fuck toy.” Letting himself slip between your walls and stretch you out heavenly. The sensation of him filling you up reveals a pleasant sigh as your thighs spread wider around his hips.

“Yes, Mr. Styles… you fuck me so good,” You whine, fingers trailing down his pelvis as he lets his hips glide in with ease.

Harry hums in acknowledgment, his hands finding themselves around your upper thighs, driving into your pussy tenderly letting you feel him expand your walls and sink right against your cervix before drawing back and repeating.

“Mhm, who makes you feel like this darling,” Head craning down as your vision shifts from between your legs to his face coming into view.

“You, only you.” With the quick response your other hand curls into the sheets as your body jerks against the mattress.

“That’s right… you and that dirty mouth of yours,” Breath fanning over your face as his grip along your skin tighten enough to leave bruises, the feeling has you gasping at the pain. “Gonna show me some respect.”

The pace of his thrusts increase leaving his hips to smack against yours. It causes your mouth to hang open and nails drag against his skin at the rapid speed now driving into you. The intense feeling of his cock spreading you wide has your mind a clutter of thoughts.

How can he stretch you out so heavenly yet look at you purely amused by his actions over you? How can he effortlessly pleasure every crevice of your pussy that craves him? How can he fuck the shit out of you yet still have you craving for more? He’s so addicting, so captivating, so intriguing, you’re in awe; you’re in love.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’re used to playing with. You will learn respect.” Eager hips diving into yours that your head falls into the sheets, eyes locking with the chandelier that shifts with every pound of his hips.

“Y —Yes, sir.” Knuckles going white as your spine curves towards his flexing stomach.

“Shut up,” Harry bellows, his hands leaving your thighs; one covering your mouth while the other wraps around your throat.

His harsh words don’t even bruise your feelings, it only has you moaning into his palm with tears beginning to prick your eyes. The blissful pleasure he was making you feel wasn’t even something you can explain.

“You’re such a fucking slut,” His hand releasing your throat to smack you, leaving your vision to trail away from the diamonds that float above and towards his face. Bottom lip between his teeth as his brows push together.

“And I’ll use you just like the one you are.”

Sweat trickles down every expanse of your limbs, bed sheets sticking and the frame of the bed smacking against the window. The tattering sound of it repeatedly hitting it fills the room as your legs hang in the air, shiny heels glistening in the moonlight as you continue to moan against his hand.

Harry could do anything and you would see no wrong, maybe it’s manipulative, maybe it’s controlling but it feels too good that you can’t resist; and why would you want to anyway, he’s the only one to ever make you feel things you never felt before. Like for example right now, the way your thighs begin to shake and spikes of pain course along your calves, only he can do that.

“You’re mine to use, mine to ruin.” His palm releasing from your mouth to land another slap across your cheek, it has you whimpering in response. “Understand me?”

Your lashes flutter as chest heaves drastically, mouth parting and pelvis quivering as you feel your climax barreling in.

“Y —Yes s —sir,” Stuttering as you look at Harry with complete devotion while he basks in it. “Sir.” You whisper, head bobbing with each rough assault to your pussy.

“What? You’re gonna come?” Harry grins, hands meeting your throat and squeezing tightly as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Please, sir, please, can I?” Voice hoarse as your lungs strain for air.

It’s the greedy smirk and shaking head that has your stomach clenching crazily, waist retreating against his furious ones as your fingers tug against the sheet.

“P —Please, Mr. Styles can—”

“—Shut up!”

Grip grows tighter as he continues to pound away. Every rock of his hips pierce your plush walls, and with each jerk of your body up the bed does it remind you that you’re nothing but his toy at the moment, nothing but his doll that he’ll use to his liking.

That’s why tears now flow down your temples, legs shaking against his hips as he toys with your body however he likes while you restrain yourself from releasing all over him.

“Want to be my good girl, then take it.” Face inches away as he watches the tears continue to stream down.

And you do, you suck in your abdomen as your quivering thighs try to close around his waist and accept every fatal attack. Teeth biting into your bottom lip as your throat wheezes for air.

“Play with you however I please,” He grunts, eyes searching your face that begs for oxygen that turns him on even more.

Harry’s hips continue to plunge inside your pussy and bruise your cervix; and with your tight walls twitching around him pleading for release it has his head sliding to the nape of your neck.

You feel him spill his seed into you, a beautiful moan slipping past his lips and along the sweaty skin of your neck as his grip relaxes.

Just the feeling of his come seeping into you has you moaning out, fingers tugging away from the sheets and drawing down his back as his hips don’t stop their torturing movements.

“Please sir, can I come, please,” Whimper tugging through your ruined throat as your lower half now begins to shake from the fight you put up.

“Yes, darling.” The one word you’ve been dying to hear has your stomach relax as you let go and release yourself all over his cock.

Creamy wave of arousal expelling over the thickness of him as his movements never slow. Wet kisses pepper themselves along your neck, his hands by your head feeling over your messy head of hair, while your body continues to twitch and contract around him.

Your grip around him relaxes, hips flexing against his own until he begins to pace himself, slowly rocking into your pussy that makes your chest settle.

“What’s your colour?” Harry asks, head rising and looking over your face. Dizzy expression overcoming your features that has him tugging his hand away from your locks and run over the heated skin.

“Green, sir,” Blinking up at him while swallowing heavily. The answer has Harry nodding, tongue peeking out of his mouth before he’s leaning back on his knees.

Thrusts come to a halt, his cock slipping out that has your mixtures spilling from your folds to drip along the sheets. It’s in the warm atmosphere that you both manage to catch your breaths, chest shallowly welcoming the air as sticky fingers roam up and down the expanse of sweaty skin.

“You’re so good to me baby,” Harry comments, his hands trailing up your leg to begin undoing the strap of your heels. When hearing them smack to the ground do you sigh in relief of having your feet free of the curved platform.

“Mhmm…” You mindlessly hum as you watch in complete awe of him undoing the next one.

“Always perfect for me.” His head running against your calf as he presses light kisses into the skin there. Your favorite words swelling your heart that it makes you get up on your elbows and gesture for him.

“Are we okay now?” You ask, letting your hands run across the skin of his chest.

“Yes baby… just no more surprises, I don’t know what I’ll do next time. Okay?”

“Okay.”

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 2 months

Text

Sweet indulgence 🛼

Written for the Valentine's Day pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog.

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in roller skates; First date (Eddie says it counts 💖)

Notes: continued from this one.

"You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve says.

“Why not?” Eddie throws the garishly pink flier back down on the table. “It’s still Valentine’s Day.”

“For thirteen more minutes,” Steve bristles, pen pressing down on his little notepad so hard that Eddie is afraid he’ll punch a hole through it. “You don’t even have a date.”

“Didn’t know that was required,” Eddie grins. “All I’m saying is, if you offer a Valentine’s Day special, then that special should be available for the entirety of Valentine’s Day, so …”

Steve makes an exasperated sound, but still jots down the order.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he barks over his shoulder as he pushes away from the table and disappears into the kitchen. “Just so you know.”

Eddie watches him glide away, legs and ass a meal in their own right in those shorts and knee-highs and the fucking roller skates.

Maybe the boy has a point. Maybe he is being ridiculous.

It’s not exactly normal behavior, discovering that your former high school king is now a waiter at the diner down the street, and then promptly declaring said diner your new after-work dinner spot. But Eddie never claimed to be normal. And he’s always been a tad bit obsessed with Steve Harrington, so here they are.

Steve has long resigned himself to his nightly visits. Never once has he acknowledged their shared history, and Eddie hasn’t pushed. Instead, he’s slowly putting together all the little puzzle pieces he’s been collecting.

Steve will grumble and scowl and bitch over Eddie’s absurd orders and constant attempts at flirting, but he never fails to pocket his generous tips, so he must be struggling financially. He’s pulling at least one job besides the one at the diner. Most likely a babysitting gig, as indicated by the sparkly hair clips and stickers that Eddie regularly spots in his hair and on his clothes. He’s also not seeing anyone, because if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t be working the night shift on Valentine’s Day.

He also hasn’t eaten in a while, if the tummy rumble as he brings the order is anything to go by. Eddie quirks a brow. Steve blushes and hugs the tray to his chest.

“Enjoy your meal,” he says, but Eddie holds up a hand and gestures invitingly at the empty seat opposite him.

“Join me?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “I’m on the clock.”

“Oh yeah, and super fucking busy, I can see,” Eddie quips. “Indulge me, my liege.”

Steve chews on his bottom lip, casting a hesitant glance towards the kitchen. Finally, he sighs and slips into the free seat. Eddie hands over one of the two cupcakes on his plate, decorated in a lopsided tower of frosting and a smattering of heart-shaped sprinkles. Steve devours nearly half of it with two enormous bites, and if triumph blooms warm and heavy in Eddie’s chest, that’s neither here nor there.

“So,” he drawls, ignoring his own cupcake in favor of stacking his chin on top of his folded hands, peering at Steve over the rim of his sunglasses. “How was your day? Been handing out lots of these little babies?”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” he says around a mouthful of frosting. “Have you seen this place? Premium date spot. So classy and romantic.”

They lapse into silence for a few seconds. Steve grabs the milkshake with the two straws without waiting for an invitation and takes an enormous sip. There’s a tiny pink sprinkle at the corner of his mouth. Eddie resists the temptation to reach out and wipe it away.

“What about you, huh? You own the record label down the street, right? Surely your day was much more interesting than mine.”

So he isn’t the only one who’s been puzzling, Eddie thinks.

“Hellfire Records,” he nods, happy to ramble about his baby, even though Steve’s attempt at diverting the topic is not nearly as subtle as the boy may think. “We have some pretty cool bands, but I’m not sure they’re your taste, exactly.”

“Oh?” Steve shoves the last bit of cupcake into his mouth, licking leftover frosting off his fingers. “Bold of you to assume that you’d know my taste. Indulge me?”

Eddie does.

Steve does, it turns out, know fuck all about metal and grunge, but he’s surprisingly interested and open-minded. Much more open-minded than Eddie would’ve expected from Hawkins High royalty. By the time they wrap up their little talk and make their way over to the counter, Steve has finished not only the milkshake, but also the second cupcake.

When Eddie hands over the usual fifty, Steve hesitates.

“You already gave me all the food.”

Eddie smiles easily. “So? Gotta let my favorite waiter know I appreciate him on this fine holiday.”

Something flits over Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable, but it’s gone as soon as it came.

“Don’t think you can buy my affection, Eddie,” he murmurs, snatching the bank note from Eddie’s fingers and stuffing it into his apron pocket.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie winks and saunters towards the door - carefully making sure to keep the giddy spring out of his step. Steve called him Eddie. Not Munson. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good,” Steve calls after him. “See you tomorrow?”

“You bet, big boy,” Eddie says. He’s just about to leave when something else occurs to him. “And I’ll be sure to pick a nicer spot for our second date, promise.”

Steve’s blush is as pink as the sprinkle that’s still stuck at the corner of his mouth. Eddie doesn’t wait for his retort, just shuts the door and makes for home, grinning like a maniac.

🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕

Tagging some ppl who expressed interest last time: @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon @steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddieholidaydrabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up challenge #upside diner AU #ready to roll?#hype's holiday drabbles 2024

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houseofripley · 2 months

Text

Hotel Hell - Part Two

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

Part One Pinterest

WARNINGS: SMUT, 18+, Fighting, Shoving, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, MAKEUP SEX

WORD COUNT: 3,812

A/N: omg i am sorry this took me years to finish, life has been busy but it should calm down soon. i got such a good request the other day and i haven't gotten it off my mind so i will start that tmrw if i have time. also i proofread this at 2am so please ignore any mistakes lol

“The Brutalization Chamber? You want to know what The Brutalization Chamber is?” The Irish man laughed out, his eyebrows raising once you turned your gaze towards him.

An expression of curiosity displayed on your face as you repeated the name of the supposed ‘chamber’. It was obvious to the man that you wanted to know more.

The man began making his way down the stairs, “No offense sweetheart…but I don’t really think this is the place for a girl li-” He tried to speak before being cut off.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“I don’t really care what you think sir, I want you to show me what's down there.” You chirped out, following the male down the flight of stairs, your hand hovering over your aching ribs.

“Well shit, if you insist,” The guy chuckled out, “Feisty, she’ll like you.” He muttered under his breath as he opened the door.

She’ll like you…was he talking about the same ‘she’ you had spent your night with? The same woman who just got done unleashing pure cruelty onto you? The same woman who disappeared into this exact building moments ago?

“Name’s Finn by the way,” He mentioned, “It’s just us, the big boss is probably around here somewhere as well.” Finn spoke as you scanned the room looking for ‘the big boss’.

Grimy was the only way to portray the room. Rope lights scattered across the ceiling, some were dim while others flickered. There were freezing concrete walls with cracks littered all over. A red neon sign displaying the letters ‘TBC’. A blood stained ring sat taking up a quarter of the room. Various pieces of gym equipment and punching bags were compressed into a room off to the side.

“So…just a gym?” You questioned the man, there was no sign of Rhea.

“Nah, it’s a little more than just a gym love…think of it as a fight club. A fight club with a fuck ton of money involved.” Finn stated leading into a room the size of a walk-in closet, the room seemingly being a pathetic excuse of a nurses office.

You leaned against the door frame while Finn babbled on as he started unpacking his bag, “People come to us in desperate need for money. They’re entered into our roster, put in the ring and bet on. If they win their match they get fifty percent of all bets placed. Bunch of sick wealthy men love wasting their fortune on this shit.”

“Don’t you think this is just a tad bit illegal?” You chuckled, sending a small wave of pain to your ribs.

“Eh I don’t worry about that too often,” Finn shrugged, digging around his duffle. “Rhea’s not too worried about the legalities when there's this much money involved, she can pay her way out of damn near anything.”

Rhea.

Despite your pain you perked up at the mention of Rhea’s name although you stayed silent.

“Rhea would like you, you’re quiet but there's just something about you, like there’s a fire inside you.” Finn mentioned, pointing at you. “I would introduce you to her but earlier this afternoon one of her top guys lost her like seven thousand. She stormed off to god knows where. Another one of her main guys has a big match in about half an hour. Going up against some new kid we’ve never seen so I’m sure she’s busy worrying her ass off.”

You heard a scoff echo from the main room as footsteps approached. “Jesus fucking christ Finn! Do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” You heard Rhea sarcastically laugh trying to cover her anger.

You slowly turned to face Rhea, examining her tensed jaw and narrowed eyes. Reality had finally washed over you. The weight of Rhea’s actions flooded into your brain. You couldn’t figure out if you felt more betrayal or anger in the moment.

“Ah! Rhea mate!” Finn exclaimed, trying to divert from Rhea’s critiques. “I was just telling this young lady how much you’d like her…I never caught her name though.”

Your face turned to the ground as you tried to mutter out your name. “We’ve met.” Rhea butted in, her voice was fully flat-devoid of any sign of emotion. That’s when the regret hit you.

You shouldn't have come here.

“I should leave…it seems you guys have a busy night.” You muttered quietly. Rhea took a firm grasp on your forearm, “That can wait, let’s go have a chat.” Rhea said as her head motioned towards what you assumed to be her office.

“No, I-I can come back another time, I really don’t want to be a bother.” You barely managed to stutter out while Rhea’s middle and pointer finger of her opposite hand guided your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “I said let’s go have a chat.” Rhea commanded, her grip on your arm tightening.

You reluctantly followed the woman as she dragged you in the direction of her office. You knew you were in for it big time.

“You are a fucking insane bitch! What could have possibly made you think it was okay to fucking show up to this place?!” Rhea lashed out at you the moment the latches of her door clicked together. She dropped your arm before shoving you towards the other side of the room. You had been lucky enough to catch your balance as you were just inches away from barreling into the concrete walls.

“I just wanted to learn more! I wanted to figure you out Rhea! Can you blame me for wanting to figure out why you’re so angry and cruel every time I see you?” You said loudly, your voice filled with hurt.

“That doesn't give you the goddamn right to follow me to where I work! You don’t fucking get it, these people I work with are dangerous and I don’t want you getting caught up in this bullshit!” Rhea retorted out as her breaths began picking up speed.

“What makes you think I’m so incompetent that I’m incapable of being around danger?! You put me in danger nearly every fucking time I see you! ” Your hands flew around as you yelled at the woman, tears accumulating in your eyes.

Rhea began inching towards you, a look of irritation covering her face. “I don’t fucking put you in danger!”

“Yes you fucking do! You have no idea how many bruises you’ve left me with. The other month you choked me till I passed out, yet you didn’t stop fucking me to check if I was okay! For fucks sake Rhea, an hour ago you left me bleeding and collapsed to the floor!!” All hell had broken loose between the two of you as your tears started escaping from you.

“You told me you could take it! I don’t get why you’re bitching and moaning all of the sudden.” Rhea continued arguing.

Your fist crashed down onto Rhea’s nearby desk, “I can take it rough, but you can’t keep disappearing after being borderline torturous! You’re so damn immature!!” Your screaming matched showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“I’m immature? You’re the one that followed me to my job and is throwing a tantrum right now!” Rhea’s voice thundered around the room.

“You don’t get it Rhea! I’m a fucking person and you dont give a shit about me! Why don’t you fucking care?!” You yelled through broken sobs as you started unleashing your sadness and anger onto Rhea, pushing and beating on her chest.

Rhea made no attempt to stop you. She made no moves, just allowing you to inflict your pain onto her.

Once your hands had dropped to your sides in exhaustion and your breaths became heavier as you tried calming yourself down Rhea quietly mumbled, “I do care…”

“But you don’t…” You looked up at her with wide eyes, lifting your shirt. You exposed your aching torso displaying your cut up skin, dried blood pooled around your laceration and the letters of Rhea’s name carved into your skin. “Someone who cares doesn't do this and run away.” You quietly said, your voice strained from the screaming match.

The regret in her eyes was apparent as she darted her eyes away from you. The realization she had gone too far had hit her hard, feeling as if she was being crashed into by an eighteen-wheeler.

Her vulnerability was short lived, Rhea quickly repressed her display of emotion, replacing it with her regular cold and emotionless stare. She had to put on her tough guy attitude. It was her only safety blanket. Emotions are for the weak, Rhea could never be weak.

“You get worse every time I see you, something has to change Rhea…” You breathed out, trying to articulate your speech as you lowered your shirt back down. “If you can’t fix this behavior I’m done.”

“You know you don’t mean that.” Rhea sighed as she ran her hand through her black hair. She didn’t want to lose you but she could never admit that. “I need to think about…everything. Just give me a some t-”

Rhea was cut off by a deep voice from outside the door. “Ten minutes till the bell Rhea.” Rhea rolled her eyes and made her way to the door, “Just give me some fucking time Damian! And go get a roll of gauze from Finn. Quickly.” Rhea demanded after opening the door just a sliver.

You clenched your jaw as you sensed Rhea’s levels of anger were once again rising. The last thing you wanted was to end up back at square one with her. You couldn’t handle another argument with her. Not tonight at least.

The pair of you stood in silence as you waited for the man to return. Once he had arrived he opened the door, handing Rhea the roll of fabric. His eyes curiously examining you through the crack in the door.

“I’ll be out in a minute…” Rhea aggressively muttered before closing the door. She mumbled your name under her breath before walking to her desk.

“You’re lucky Finn showed up early, only God knows what could have happened to you if one of the other guys showed up before him.” Rhea grunted as she unlocked a drawer and began rummaging through the mess inside.

What is it about her?

“Why such a dark line of work? What made you choose this of all things?” You questioned, you were terrified to set her off but on the other hand you wanted to push for answers from her. It was the only way to get your foot into the door of her life.

Rhea stumbled her way towards you avoiding eye contact, a tube of antibacterial gel in her hand as she shrugged. “Not something you choose. You’re born into it and can’t escape it, you just have to accept it and make the best out of it.” She mumbled while she lifted your shirt up.

Rhea applied a small glob of the antibacterial gel to her finger while she lowered herself to her knees, becoming face to face with your shredded skin. The woman began dabbing the gel onto your skin causing you to let out a small hiss from the pain.

Once she finished applying all of the gel she wiped the residue from her fingers onto her pant leg and grabbed the roll of gauze. Rhea cleared her throat before speaking up, “Just stay in here for a while, I can take you home after this match.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking home by myself, Rhea.” You stated, watching Rhea carefully wrap the gauze around your waist.

“I’m walking you home and that’s final.” Rhea stood her ground, “Seriously though, just stay in here. I’ll be back.”

You weren’t planning on fighting about this with her, deciding to keep your mouth shut you let her take the win. “Fine, whatever.” You gave in as Rhea tied a knot in the gauze to hold it in place.

“Shouldn’t be more than twenty minutes.” Was all Rhea had said as she stood up. Nothing else left her lips as she exited the room.

No apology?

You groaned as you sat down in Rhea’s large chair. You blankly stared at the wall for several minutes before your mind started to wander. Exploring anything that popped into your head. Places, things, people, Rhea.

If you were being honest with yourself you were doubting the woman's ability to change her ways. You assumed she would most likely be this way her whole life, although you prayed she had it in herself to change. She had the potential to be great if she would put her pride aside.

It wasn't long until the cheers of the crowd on the opposite side of the door had started drowning out your thoughts.

You wanted to catch a glimpse of the madness. You stood up from the large chair, your feet scuffing the ground as you strolled to the door

You cracked the door open, taking a peek of the ring surrounded by a flock of rowdy men that were yelling. The large man you made eye contact with earlier was in the ring brutalizing a much smaller guy who couldn’t even be older than twenty-five. He was putting on one hell of a fight but it was clear he stood no chance.

Rhea was the only woman there, she was stood right against the ring watching intensely. She had caught your image in the corner of her eyes. Her face turned in your direction, she tilted her head as if she was asking you what the hell you were doing.

You mouthed the word sorry to her before quickly closing the door.

Fifteen excruciatingly boring minutes had passed, the cheers had dispersed into muffled conversations. Rhea had finally arrived back in her office. She seemed content which you enjoyed.

“You ready to go?” Rhea asked, you answered with a simple nod.

As the two of you made your way out of the building Rhea exchanged goodbyes with some of the strange men.

The entire walk was silent, the both of you reflecting on the weird night you had been through together. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was almost peaceful. Having Rhea in your presence when she was somewhat calm was pleasant. You wanted to hold onto this peacefulness for the rest of your life.

It took you by surprise when Rhea insisted on taking you directly to your door instead of just dropping you off in the front of the large building and ditching.

“You didn’t need to take me all the way up here.” You quietly mumbled as you unlocked the door to your apartment. “Lot’s of bad people around this time of night.” Rhea muttered as your door swung open.

You turned around to face the woman, her eyes peering over your head, scanning the entry of your apartment. “There’s bad people around all times of the day. I’m used to it.” You said quietly, her eyes returning to you.

An awkward silence filled the air as the both of you gazed upon each other. Rhea began rubbing her neck, “Uh…I should go. I’m gonna go.” She feebly stated before turning away from you, quickly walking down the hall. She had stormed off before you could even speak up.

Still no apology?

—

Multiple days had passed. Rhea had made no contact yet. You spent a concerning amount of time just staring at Rhea’s contact in your phone, debating if you should press the call button. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

She’d call if she cared enough.

It felt as if life had paused, your days seemed empty. The busy streets of New York City felt devoid of any livelihood. The live music that took place at work sounded muffled. The flavor of your favorite foods had been stripped away. Once colorful flowers sold down at the street market now sat dull.

Days just painfully repeated.

Tonight you had the night off, your only plans were to stare out the window of your bedroom and pray for a text from Rhea.

You sat criss-cross at the edge of your bed twiddling your thumbs, your mind seemingly empty as you stared into the windows of the skyscraper across the street when the sound of a knock echoed down your short hall.

Groaning in annoyance as you got up you began making your way to the door, chewing the inside of your cheek as your feet shuffled below you.

You weren't sure who you were expecting to be in the hall but it completely caught you by surprise when you swung the door open to see the dark haired woman waiting for you.

Without a word Rhea launched herself onto your lips, the force causing you to be pushed back a few inches.

Jesus Christ.

This felt like more than just a kiss, it had an intense amount of passion intertwined into it. Rhea’s hands gripped onto your waist as you backed into the apartment, her foot kicking the door behind her closed.

She had never kissed you in this way before. Before tonight you had only received measly pecks while the two of you had sex. It was never emotional.

Rhea slowly pulled away from your lips, both of your breaths were heavy as she finally spoke, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Finally.

“God, I’ve treated you like shit and I have been such a dick. It’s been the only thing on my mind. You don’t deserve that, It’s not okay.” Rhea began rambling as you stared into each other's eyes. “I get it if you never want to see me again but please just give me a chance, I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll get my temperament under control, I’ll go to therapy, whatever you say I will do it.”

“Rhea-” You whispered, trying to calm her down but she continued her rant.

“I want to know you, more than just your body. I wanna know everything, The good, the bad, the boring…I wanna know what pisses you off and what makes you cry. I don’t know why I kept you a stranger for so long and I’m sorry for that.”

You led Rhea into your small living room as you listened to her rambling. You took a seat in your chaiser lounge and ushered her to sit in front of you as her speech continued on. “I don’t know why I ran away…I think it's cause I didn't want to hurt you. But I did hurt you, so badly. I don’t want to run away anymore, I had no right to ever hurt you the way I did, just for me to leave you alone right after. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It’s just that I-”

“Rhea!” You slightly raised your voice causing Rhea to finally close her mouth. You leaned closer to her, placing a quick and gentle kiss on her lips. “You’re okay, don’t worry.” You comforted the woman, softly chuckling.

“I didn’t interrupt your night did I?” Rhea asked, slightly nervous as she scootched up closer to you. You shook your head no as a smile creeped on your face.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to end up in a heated makeout session, your hands roaming over one another's clothing. Rhea groaned your name against your lips before pulling back just a few centimeters.

“Please let me show you how sorry I am.” She practically pleaded, her eyes full of desperation, “Yes please” you quietly giggled, your eyes adoring the woman's face. The second Rhea heard the word yes echo from your mouth her lips went straight for your neck, causing a whimper to escape from you.

Rhea took her time as she kissed upon your neck, carefully leaving soft love bites every so often, marking the skin a flushed pink shade. Her lips only leaving your skin as she pulled off your sweater before she began peckering kisses against your collarbones.

Her hands crept behind your back, unclasping your bra and pulling it from your chest. Your fingers grazed upon Rhea’s tense shoulders as she left a path of kisses down your torso.

As Rhea’s face reached the base of your stomach, her eyes fixated on your face as if she was asking for your blessing. You gave her a nod before lifting your hips into the air, allowing her to slide your sweatpants off your legs.

“Rhea, please,” You whined out while Rhea’s fingers toyed with the seam of your panties. Rhea grinned to herself as she slowly shed the final layer of clothing off your body.

The woman wasted no time connecting her mouth to your heat, causing you to let out a breathy moan. “So fucking beautiful…” Rhea praised against your skin.

Truthfully, her tongue felt like heaven as it worked its way around your wetness. Rhea didn't want to rush you. This wasn't for her, she just wanted to make sure you knew she had the ability in her to change for the better.

Your breaths picked up their pace as Rhea’s hand inched its way closer to your core. Her ring and middle finger traced a circle around the perimeter of your entrance before slowly being pushed into you.

“Shit,” You whined out, your back arching as both Rhea’s tongue and digits worked their magic on you. Although you enjoyed roughhousing with the woman, you undoubtedly appreciated the amount of care Rhea was putting into you.

You were a whimpering mess under Rhea’s touch, and she loved every small sound that escaped from your mouth.

“More! Please, I can take it!” You begged for more of her. Rhea obliged, sliding her pointer finger into your tightness causing you to roll your eyes back as her fingers filled your insides.

“That’s it baby,” Rhea preached quietly when your hips began to rock against her fingers, your moans filling the room. “Such a good girl for me.” She added on before her tongue got back to sailing over your clit, her fingers picking up their pace.

Your legs tightened around Rhea’s head as your orgasm quickly approached. “C’mon sweet girl, let go.” Rhea’s encouraging words were muffled, your walls clenched around her curling fingers.

“Fuck Rhea!” You squealed out as the knot that filled your stomach released onto Rhea’s fingers. Your hips twitched into the air as the fingers inside of you helped you ride out your climax.

Rhea was grinning ear-to-ear as she slowly pulled her fingers out of your hole. She groaned in pleasure, licking her fingers clean.

She soon brought her face to meet yours, her plumped lips giving your jaw a kiss before whispering in your ear.

“How’s that for an apology, hm?”

Chapter Taglist: @babybatlover @whiteleoqueen @luvvleah @lovingperson1

#rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe smut #rhea ripley fanfiction

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 2 months

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Evermore - Eddie's Ending

Series Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to come back, is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been right in front of you this whole time?

Just a small note: Thank you all for sticking around with me on this small journey! Enjoy!

Masterlist found here!

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Peach." AFAB reader. Tad bit of angst. Fluff. Eddie has a reverse prince Albert piercing. Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

Word Count: 5.6K

You were ready to finally face the past and look forward to the future. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. So, why was your heart hammering in your chest? Why were your palms so sweaty?

You turned the car around to head over to a house you knew fairly well. You’d been there a few times since Eddie had moved him out of Forest Hills.

The black sedan he’d rented sits in the drive as you pulled in behind it, shutting the ignition off and taking a deep breath. You sat there a few more moments trying to gather yourself.

Slowly moving from the driver’s seat, your feet felt like chunks of lead, carrying you up the drive. Then slowly taking the steps one by one until you are face to face with the front door.

You hesitantly lifted your fist, knocking three quick times, holding your breath in the process.

The door opened to reveal Wayne, smiling brightly when he saw you standing there.

“Well, hello darlin’.” Pulling you in for a quick hug and stepping aside to let you enter.

“Hi Wayne.”

“Don’t suppose you're here to see this old man,” chuckling lightly. “He’s in the living room, I’ll make myself scarce.” Turning to head down the hall.

“And darlin’, it’s good to see you again.” Smiling once more before disappearing into his room.

You turned the corner, to see Eddie at the end of the couch, feigning interest in whatever was playing on the TV. His profile outlined by the lamp on the table beside him, hair still pulled back in a bun from when he had put it up earlier in the morning, pieces now falling down framing his face.

“Who was it, Pop?” He said, not making an attempt to look your way when you entered.

“Uh, just some girl, but I can tell her to leave if you don’t want to see her.”

His head snapped up at hearing your voice, eyes wide with surprise as he shot up from the couch. He slowly came to stand before you as if any sudden movements might scare you away.

“Peach? What’re you doin’ here?” Looking behind you as if expecting someone else to follow.

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.” You shrugged, with a faint smirk to your lips.

“In the neighborhood, huh? And you came to see little ole’ me? I’m flattered, sweetheart.” He brought his hands up over his heart. “I uh… I’m glad you came by.”

“I think we had a little unfinished business to talk about, uninterrupted this time. Hopefully.” Your smile was warm, like sunshine, filling him with hope once more.

“You want to sit? Want something to drink? Coffee, tea?” He asked.

“I could use some coffee. I’ve got to go back into the Hideout tonight. Some new band is trying out for a regular spot.”

He beckoned you to follow him to the kitchen. Watching him start the pot as you sat down, letting out the smallest sigh as you did.

“New band? Hideout still does live music?” he asked over his shoulder, busying himself gathering some mugs from the cabinet.

“Of course, I didn’t change much about the place. I guess I wanted to keep the nostalgia. The parts that I always enjoyed.”

He sat the mugs down as he took the seat across from you.

“They uh, kind of remind me of Corroded Coffin in a way. They’re young, ambitious. They want to play anywhere people will listen.”

He sipped his coffee listening, biding his time. Hoping that you were here for some other reason than small talk before letting him down gently.

“Peach, I…” “Listen, Eddie…” Both saying in tandem. You let out small laughs in the quiet space, hiding the awkwardness but you were almost certain he could hear your heart from across the table at how fast it was currently beating.

“It’s ok, you go.” Eddie spoke first.

Releasing a ragged breath, feeling his big, rounded eyes on you so intensely made you more nervous than before.

“I just came here to tell you that you were right. I couldn’t just sit there and pretend that I didn’t feel anything between us. I haven’t felt something like that, well, since…” You caught his gaze, he knowingly nodded.

“Eddie, you turned my entire world upside down and shattered my heart. I don’t think you realize just how much you hurt me. You weren’t here to see me at my lowest. I didn’t leave the apartment for a week, and once I did Steve and Robin took turns watching me because I was such a wreck.” Your eyes felt the familiar sting behind them that you had grown so accustomed to in the past few days.

“Peach, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I know it doesn’t make up for it, but I would spend the rest of my entire life trying. I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I know you’re trying to say your piece before telling me that’s it, but please. I am begging you. Just one chance, I’ll show you today and the rest of our lives.”

His big eyes boring into yours, glossy, tears lining his lashes ready to spill at any moment. You hadn’t seen him this vulnerable in a long time. Somehow you could feel he was telling the truth.

“Eddie, we live such different lives now. How would we even make it work? I’m not leaving Hawkins. I can’t leave Maddie.” The only words he focused on were “make it work.” You hadn’t turned him down.

“First of all, I wouldn’t ask you to leave Hawkins, not now or ever.” He dared to place his hand on top of yours, where it sat on the table. You didn’t pull away but turned your palm over so you could curl your fingers into his, pulling him closer. His heart fluttered at the gesture.

“Wayne and I have been talking. I’m not going back to LA, at least not right now. I need a break and a major detox. In case you haven’t noticed, I uh…I need…” He was struggling to say it out loud. Your thumb gently rubbed the tender skin you held, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, it would do me some good to sober up. I’ve been going too hard for too long.” Looking down, as if he were ashamed but you were proud of him. This was your Eddie.

“How about we take this one day at a time? It’s not going to be easy. But it doesn’t mean that I forgive you for everything you put me through. Words only go so far; you need to show me.” You squeezed his hand.

“I can do that. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Lifting your hand to his lips, placing a small kiss there. You smiled fondly hoping you’ve made the right choice. A second chance at a love you thought was lost.

“Alright, one day at a time Eddie.”

You sat there sipping coffee and fingers intertwined with his letting the gentle moment sink in. You were doing this; you were ready to try to love again.

“Walk me out? I’ve got to get ready for tonight.”

You both stood, as he placed his palm to the small of your back, guiding you back through the house.

“Hey Eddie,” turning back to him as you walked through the door. “There's this really cool band playing at the Hideout tonight. I could save you a seat. I’ll even have some virgin Pina Coladas ready to go. How about it?”

He grinned wide, “It’s a date sweetheart. I’ll be there.”

You were buzzing with electricity since you had left him, heading straight home to get a little more dressed up for a usual weeknight. You wore dark denim jeans, paired with a simple tank top and your own leather jacket with some old converse sneakers to keep your feet comfy. You kept your makeup simple but added a nice red lip. Something Eddie was always fond of.

The band you had hired brought in more of a crowd than you had anticipated, packing the place. The usuals grumbling about all these “young kids” taking their seats.

You were busy, helping out behind the bar or on the floor, wherever you were needed until your other waitress arrived. Your eyes kept glancing at the clock as it inched its way closer to 7 PM.

The band was set to perform at 7:30, and he would be arriving at any moment. You had roped off the two stools at the end of the bar earlier in the day, the ones directly in front of where your initials were carved what now seems like a lifetime ago.

You heard the commotion before you saw him.

Someone from the crowd shouted, as others joined in. “Holy shit, it’s Eddie Munson.” “It’s really him!” “No way!”

You gave him time, slipping in and around the people clambering to talk to the one and only Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin. The members of the band you’d hired finally had their chance, speaking with him briefly, asking advice which he gladly gave but his mind was elsewhere.

His eyes drifted to where you sat, back turned to him. The noise and voices slowly subsided as you came into view.

“Excuse me, boys, I’ve got a hot date. And I’ve kept her waiting far too long.” He clapped one of them on the back as he made his way over. “Have a good set.”

You were sipping your Pina Colada, virgin just as you had told him they would be.

“Hi there, this seat taken?” He asked, coming to stand beside you.

“Well, I’m waiting for some guy but he’s late. I suppose you’ll do.” You grinned, taking another sip of the sugary concoction.

“His loss,” he chuckled out, as he sat.

Your eyes finally found him as you smiled at each other. He had showered, his curls down and around his face and shoulders. He’d left his stubble; it was a good look for him. It made him look older, hiding those boyish features but it was fitting. You were both older now. Your mind wonders how he sees you now.

He scooted over into your space, slotting his legs on either side of you. He smelled of that familiar leather and cigarettes that you had always found comfort in, something reminiscent of home. You could also faintly smell a cologne underneath, woodsy and expensive.

“So, handsome, what brings you in here tonight?” Pushing yourself a little closer still, knee pressing into his thigh as you slot yourself in between his open legs, feeling a little brave, placing your hand on his leg.

You watched his breath hitch, as if it was first date jitters and you hadn’t spent an entire lifetime together, but it was time to get to know one another again.

He didn’t have time to respond. The band cut through the sound system that you had spent a small fortune upgrading a few years ago as both of you looked toward the stage.

“Hey everyone, we’re Punk Rats. Let’s hit it!” It was new rock, in a small town. Something Eddie knew all too well. It usually wasn’t welcome, but it looks as if you made the Hideout a safe place for people like them to play and invite their fans. You were like him in that way, always a soft spot for the outcasts and lost sheep.

The music poured out. Loud and fast paced.

He leaned in close, so you could hear him. “They aren’t too bad.”

“I know, I hired them. Remember?” You laughed. He was so glad to draw that sound from you. Something he thought he’d never hear again.

He slyly watched you, watching them perform with stars in your eyes. He remembered those days you were looking at him up there. He’d never gotten to see you like this, up close.

You reached over and threaded your fingers through his, holding tight, letting the music sway you from side to side. You had missed his touch.

“Hey Eds,” you turned to him, finding his eyes already on you. “I’ll be right back, I’ve to check on something.” You slowly unlatched yourself from him, kissing his cheek.

He nodded, eyes trailing after you, a little sway to your hips as you went weaving through the small crowd. He thought to himself at this moment how lucky he was to be here, and he wasn’t about to let you slip through his fingers. What an absolute fool he was. Young, ambitious but at what cost?

The minutes ticked by, and you hadn’t returned. He checked his watch, looking around nervously until the bartender caught his attention.

“Hey man,” Randy cut through the chatter, “she told me to give you this,” handing him a folded paper.

For a moment his heart sank. You’d changed your mind and didn’t want to tell him. He was getting his payback, and he didn't blame you.

A look of confusion passed his features before he took it from him hesitantly, fingers with a little tremble; from detoxing or nerves he didn’t quite know.

Hey Handsome,

Meet me upstairs. The door is unlocked.

XoXo, Peach

Breathing a sigh of relief, he got up. Making his way across the bar to the front door, pushing his way out into the cool Indiana summer night air.

He looked up at the apartment window. It was dark, anticipation stirring within him as he started to climb the stairs taking two at a time but trying to maintain his cool.

He stopped, should he knock? No that's stupid, you said the door was unlocked.

He held his breath, and slowly turned the knob, pushing as the door slowly creaked open. The only light seeping in from the window.

“Peach?” He called out. Closing the door behind him, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness that surrounded him.

He saw you moments later, silhouette outlined by the same window.

“Every time I come up here, I think about that night. Wondering what I could have done differently.” You gaze steady on the outside world, as he comes up behind you.

He’s well aware that he had the luxury to run away, forget it all. You had to stay, see everything that reminded you of him here in Hawkins.

He placed his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. He radiated warmth but your body erupted in goosebumps from the sudden closeness.

“Is this, okay?” Breath fanning across your cheek, as he spoke.

“It’s more than okay,” wrapping your arms around his.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing you in. You always smelled sweet. Something that always made him think of vanilla and summer days.

He wanted to cherish the moment, the time he had with you as he raised his head up, lips kissing tenderly at your temple.

“God, I missed you so much. And I’m sorry I’m a few years late. An apology that shouldn't even have to be made. I was stupid. Selfish.” He mumbled into your hair.

“Eddie, how about we make some new memories? Replace the ones that I need to forget.” You moved out of his grip so you could face him, as your hands snaked around his waist, meeting the warmth you missed so much laying your head to his chest.

“Yeah, Sweetheart. We can do that.”

You pulled your head away from where it rested long enough to look him over. His gaze immediately bringing you a comfort you so desperately craved from your time apart. His cheeks flushed, tinted the lightest shade of pink. Eyes drifting to his lips. His tongue darted out slightly, wetting them.

“You can make me forget? Remind me of all the good times?” He nodded.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

You tilted your chin upward, as he crashed his lips into yours. His hand meeting the back of your head, pulling you in, his other resting on your hip.

The moment your lips met, it was desperate and needy. Your hands find purchase on the front of his shirt as you move against each other.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip, begging for entry, silently granting permission as you gently parted them.

All at once, he’s everywhere but it isn’t enough. Hands roaming, feeling any of the exposed skin he could get to. You fervently wish in this moment you could crawl under his skin, desperate to be as close as possible.

You feel a familiar ache between your legs, with an intensity that has you reeling. He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss, pressing in as you feel the evidence of his own growing need against your hip, straining against his denim.

Pulling away slightly, he sucks your lower lip gently before releasing it with a gentle pop. You’re both out of breath, panting. Leaning his forehead against yours, the small breaths being shared in the space between you the only sounds in the room.

“Eds, I need you,” you finally manage to speak.

“I need you too, Peach. Can I please, have you?”

You brought your hands up to gently cup his face. “I’ve waited for what seems like an eternity to have you back in my arms. Please.”

“Wait, is there even a bed up here?” As if he suddenly remembered where you were, and no furniture in the immediate area that he could see.

You giggle and nod, “Yes, Eds. Though I know that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“I had to ask sweetheart,” he leans in close, dropping his voice to that husky tone that has your thighs clenching, “I’d like to fuck you properly tonight.”

You yelp as his hand comes into contact with your ass with a loud smack.

“Eddie!” You chastise him, with a grin.

“Come on, baby,” he gently tapped your ass then, giving you the go ahead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his narrow waist. Eddie was always strong; years of lugging heavy music equipment had its perks.

His large palms cup your cheeks bringing you even closer, grinding down so you could press your core to his ever-growing bulge making you both moan out with want. He wastes no time, managing to kiss you again and marching you both straight to the bedroom.

He only breaks the kiss a moment to look around once he’d managed to get you both through the doorway in one piece. Though the bed has changed it feels the same. It’s in the same position it was always in. Fitting, he thinks.

He gently moves to the bed, sitting you down with a small bounce as you giggle. Helping you quickly shed your jacket, tossing it haphazardly across the floor as he does the same with his.

He takes your sneaker clad foot and helps ease your shoe off and then switches to do the same with the other. You watched him, scooting yourself up into the pillows. He slipped his own shoes off and made his way back over to you.

Crawling over, he nudged your thighs so he could slot himself between them. His throbbing length meeting your core once again through the layers of still too much fabric separating you from one another.

You arched and moved into him when the rough denim meets your own, but finding enough friction where you craved it the most. You let out a breathy moan, sounding more like a sigh.

It was like music to his ears.

“God, I’ve missed those sounds.” Tenderly moving the hair from your face before caging you in.

His lips once again meeting yours, not as much urgency in the way they moved against yours, but just as much passion taking his time savoring the taste.

He pulled away, your lips chasing his, it only had you pleading once more, “Please Eddie, I need you.”

“I know baby, but I want to take my time. I’ve missed you so much.” He looked directly into your eyes, tears brimming at your lash line, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Needy baby, let me take care of you.”

He helped you remove your top, kissing down your jaw, then the column of your neck, making his way lower. Tender kisses all the way down your chest, as if reacquainting himself with each part of you. Thumbs brushing over the thin fabric covering your breast, earning him another moan. He moved to unclasp it, freeing you from the confines.

Then moving his lips lightly over each nipple, breath fanning, teasing you. Your head was already getting dizzy, thrown back with pleasure before his tongue licks hot, over your already pert nub while his palm engulfed the other. Switching the motions of his tongue before fully sucking and then lightly biting, making your core throb with need.

“Oh, Eddie,” an already breathless utterance falling from your lips.

Once he felt your breasts had enough attention, his lips began kissing down your stomach, before finally pulling away, easily popping the button of your jeans, bringing his face back down nipping at the top of your panties.

Once again, making you comfortable and giving you an out he asked, “This alright, sweetheart?”

You met his gaze, your own eyes reflecting the same lust he felt.

“Please, Eds.”

He helped you shimmy out of your jeans and panties letting them join the growing pile on the floor.

You spread your thighs for him once again, as his fingers began to trace patterns on your skin, getting closer to where you needed him the most. He moved inward, watching your pussy on full display for him.

“Baby, you're already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you.” He hummed.

He moved his finger to trace your slit. Your hips canting up to meet his touch, desperate for more.

Gently, he parts your lips, brushing his thumb over your clit and sees the way your aching hole clenches around nothing as it pulls another delicious moan from you making it hard for him not to take his throbbing cock out and pound you into the mattress right then and there.

“Fuck Peach, such a need girly. My needy girl.” He says as he lowers himself, head between your thighs, mouth now mere inches from your sopping cunt; breath fanning over your hot flesh as he admires the meal he’s about to devour.

He doesn’t give you time to respond, letting his hot tongue meet your core, painting a stripe from your aching hole, meeting your clit with just the pressure you needed.

“Ahhh, fuck.” You moaned out, gripping the sheets to ground you.

He began swirling his tongue over your bundle of nerves, like an exposed live wire, the coil already threatening to snap.

“God, yes Eddie. Please don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” He speaks into your pussy, drawing your clit between his lips sucking harshly.

His finger draws lazy circles around your entrance, you couldn’t focus on one sensation alone. Everything felt so good.

That same finger began to prod your entrance, sliding in easily, a welcome relief.

He quickly adds another, curling them upward, not missing the way you’re already fluttering around him as he reaches that sweet spongy spot that has you begging for more.

He lifts his eyes, but never removes his mouth from you, as you begin to writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as you feel the coil within you winding tighter.

His fingers brushing that spot over and over, as he alternated his attention from sucking and lightly nipping at your clit, it finally sent you over the edge. With a cry of his name the coil snaps, sending you into orbit. With stars behind your eyes bursting, all you seem to hear is the blood pumping in your ears and the distant thump, thump, thump of the music from the Hideout below.

He works you through it, drawing it out as long as he could before reluctantly pulling his mouth away and letting his fingers retreat, easing himself up.

He can’t help but admire the way you look so blissed out. Lips plump and kiss bitten; cheeks flushed. You lazily open your eyes to see him looking down at you.

“Come here,” you manage, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, bringing him back to your awaiting lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. It has you moaning again, threading your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him closer.

He finally pulls away, breathless, searching your eyes.

“Peach, baby, I’ve got to get my clothes off. If I don’t get inside you, I’m going to combust.” You laugh out, but ease up on your grip, letting him ease aside.

“Uh, that reminds me,” he starts as he sits up, “You got any condoms?”

“I’m on the pill Eddie, I want all of you inside of me.” Biting your lower lips watching his jaw drop.

“You are perfect.” He pecks your lips and moves off the bed.

His shirt goes first, you study his body, more tattoos on his alabaster skin than you were accustomed to. Across his chest and side. You made a mental note to study them later, as the clinking of his belt made you trail lower as he unzipped his pants, watching as he lowered the fabric from his waist, sliding them and his boxers down his legs as they pool at his feet allowing his cock to spring free, just as pretty as you remembered. Thick and long, your eyes follow it upward until something shiny catches your eye at his ruddy tip.

“Eds, what’s that?” You ask, continuing to stare almost mesmerized.

He follows your gaze, as if he’d forgotten himself. There at the head of his cock, a steel piercing is visible.

“Oh yeah. That. Drunken decision but it's hot right?” He states, with a sly grin.

You nod, as he brings his hand to his shaft, taking the pearly bead from his slit, smearing it back down. Teasing himself and you in the process, as he then moves to crawl back between your thighs.

He moves close, chest pressed into yours, as his cock nudges through your slick folds, wrapping your legs around his waist. He nuzzles into your neck as lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks, “And baby, I know you’re going to love how it feels.”

Canting his hips at the last word, his head catching your clit just right, pulling a breathy moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it Peach. Let me hear those beautiful sounds. My beautiful girl.”

He moves his hand to your thigh, gently pushing. You take the hint, spreading yourself wider to him as he holds himself up by your head and his other hand travels between you.

He takes his now aching cock, teasing now long forgotten as he brings his head to your entrance. He slightly nudges inside but looks up to you for a response. Your glazed over expression is almost all he needs, but he waits. You nod, as he begins to push in slowly.

“Fuuuuuck,” he draws out the word.

Your own head now thrown back, chest heaving. Each delicious inch stretches you out.

Finally, bottoming out, he holds for a moment, kissing the side of your mouth as you moaned out once more. The high of him fully seated within you taking over filling you to the brim.

He pistons his hips, pulling almost all of the way out and thrusting back in harder than he intended. He had every intention of taking it slow, relishing the feeling as long as possible.

The slow outward drag of his cock sent a shiver down your spine and ignited a new flame deep within. That steel ring was brushing against you each and every time he thrust in and out relentlessly. It was a new experience, something you had never felt before and it had your mind and body buzzing.

“God, Eddie, you feel so good.”

Your words ignited him, it was almost too much for him to hold back, he thrust a little too harshly as his head kissed your cervix.

“Ohhhh, fuck. Eddie. Please, you can move faster.”

“Yeah, that what my girl needs, huh? Need my cock to ruin you, huh?”

He moves, pulling your thigh higher up on his waist, suddenly punching the air from your lungs with each thrust. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

It was just Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

It felt like a lifetime of waiting and to have him back in your arms felt like a dream.

You reached for him, your nails digging crescents into his back. His pace didn’t let up, he felt like he was everywhere at once, invading all of your senses. Each thrust of his hips had his cock kissing your cervix, every withdrawal had him brushing that place within your walls your own fingers could never reach. Your second orgasm was building with each delicious drag.

“I’m… mmmm… Fuck,” you couldn’t get it out, but he heard your loud and clear. In one motion, he sat up, pulling your hips up with him. The new angle made it feel like he was impossibly deeper. He moved his thumb to toy with your clit, already sensitive from the first orgasm he worked you through.

“Come on baby, give me one more.” He showered you with praise, “I need to feel her. I need you to cum all over my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you baby?”

“Eddie, I…” A new sensation started to build, it had you feeling dizzy. Your orgasm was impending, but this felt different. Intense, building with each rock of his hips and graze of your clit.

“What baby?” He hummed, but it was too late you came harder than you ever have, crying out his name as it washed over you. Your pussy clamped down on him, making it almost impossible for him to keep pumping. A gush of fluid came down around you both, wetting everything in the process.

“Holy shit,” he huffed out, ceasing his movements. “You just squirted all over me. Goddamn, that was so fuckin’ hot. When did you start doing that?”

He draped his body over yours, thrusting slowly, giving your body a reprieve.

“I… I’ve never done that before.” You breathed out, chest still heaving from the exertion.

“I told you that you'd love it.” He chuckled, still balls deep inside you. Though your walls were still sensitive, you used your muscles and pulsed down around him, effectively cutting off his laugh, eliciting his own moan instead.

“Fuck Peach, you dirty girl. You could have just said you were ready,” he huffed, getting back to the task at hand as he rolls his hips back into yours.

“Where’s the… mmmmm… where's the fun in that?”

His pace picked back up; you were able to watch his lean muscles as they worked in time to reach his own release. A sheen of sweat across his forehead, eyes closed as his head was thrown back.

His thrusts became a little sloppy, so you knew he was getting close.

He groaned at your words. “Perfect, you’re fuckin’ perfect.”

A few more thrusts and he was following you.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he mumbled as he spilled inside of you, your tight cunt milking him for everything he was worth.

He finally stilled and collapsed onto you, chests heaving, both trying to come down from your highs.

He kissed your forehead, withdrawing his softening cock and lying next to you, pulling you over until your back was to his chest and nuzzling into your hair.

You didn’t speak, nothing more needed to be said in the moment. You listened to him breathing until it turned into soft snores. You relaxed into him, letting sleep slowly take you over.

You opened your eyes slowly, scanning the room, reaching over expecting to feel a warm body next to yours.

Instead, you were met with nothing but a cold space. You sat up clutching the comforter close to your chest as your heart rate ticked up.

“Eddie?” you groaned. Waiting a few beats, only met with silence.

Oh God. You grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around yourself, noticing his clothes were gone from the floor.

You raced out into the hall, running into the kitchen. Too crazed to notice the fresh pot of coffee that was brewed or the brown paper sack sitting on the counter with

“Benny's” printed across it.

Turning the corner, you barreled right into his chest.

Woah, baby, where you going in such a hurry?” He laughed but his smile dropped when he saw the worried look on your face, immediately pulling you into his embrace.

“I'm sorry baby,” kissing the top of your head. Realizing in your state what you must have thought. “You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you just yet, so I went out for breakfast to surprise you.”

You were clinging to him. Face buried in his chest, letting yourself relax into his embrace, as he rubbed soothing circles across your back.

"It's ok… I just thought… you weren't there and…” Coming out a little muffled.

“Shhhh, sweetheart. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

Thinking back to all those years ago, this is what you had wished for. What you needed.

You were both given a second chance at love. It was time to let go of the past and look forward to the future together.

He had you back and he’d do everything to keep you.

In the soft morning light, you had coffee and breakfast in the apartment you once shared, ready to take this one day at a time.

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