#ask blurb

[urcoolgf]

can you do rafe still wants you but you’re barry’s gf

this is so good yesssss

OFF LIMITS?

pairing. boyfriend’s bsf¡rafe && reader

content. 18+. smut. cheating (not on reader). unprotected sex. breeding kink(ig?). language. mention of drugs.

he couldn’t believe you were with barry.

you were everything he wasn’t; kind, smart, well-mannered, innocent.

God, you were so fucking innocent—not in the ‘never been kissed way’ just the way you looked at him, eyes wide like you’d let him do anything to you. it drove him crazy. rafe couldn’t help but think about ruining you. you were so delicate, so breakable. and rafe—he wanted to break you in. it was all he thought about; at night with his dick in his hand, at dinner when he was supposed to be partaking in family conversation, when he woke up in the morning, every. single. shower. you were every thought—even his dreams had you in them.

and you were with barry? what did he do to deserve you?

he was a drug dealer—a bad guy. he was an asshole with no morals, a guy who’d do anything for a stack of cash, or a bag of coke. rafe liked to tell himself that you were only doing it to prove a point, maybe fuck with your parents or friends, freak them out by dating ‘the drug dealer’. that was the only thing that kept him sane—not that he was. he was far from it when it came to you.

so, it was inconvenient that every time he needed his next fix, he had to see you.

—

rafe’s fist banged against the metal door of barry’s trailer. he didn’t bother to wait for him to open it—his pounding was a warning rather than a request.

he walked into the trailer only to find barry sitting on the couch… with you in his lap. barry played with the hem of your shorts with one hand, the other occupied with a beer bottle. your tiny tank top left little to the imagination, and your shorts had the same effect. the ‘B’ necklace hanging from your neck made rafe’s skin crawl. he hated it, hated you for wearing it, hated barry the most. your dark hair fell perfectly against your flawless skin, and your perfect legs were on full display across the couch.

this sight should be considered a form of torture.

“ayo country club! what’s goin’ on my man,” barry greeted rafe with a faux level of enthusiasm… and you just sat there, all pretty and perfect and fuckable and rafe was losing his damn mind. your big doe eyes looking up at rafe when he entered had blood rushing to his crotch. it was pathetic, and he hated it (he loved it).

you climbed off barry’s lap so he could retrieve rafe’s coke. you knew how this worked—not only with barry, but with rafe. he was a loyal customer. you sat yourself back down on the lumpy couch, the tv playing something on a low volume. you pretended to watch, but all you could focus on was rafe’s gaze burning into you. you shifted uncomfortably—mainly because the couch was uncomfortable, but rafe’s eyes didn’t help either.

barry came back with a bag of cocaine, exchanging it with rafe for some cash the blonde pulled out of his pocket. a sudden ring was heard through the trailer, barry reaching into his pocket to pull out a phone.

“yeah? … shit! a’ight, a’ight. … CALM DOWN. fuck ‘m on my way,” he hung up without another word.

“yo rafe, imma need ya to stay here with y/n. i gotta go handle somethin’,” he said frantically, grabbing the keys to his bike and something else before heading toward the door.

“wait! barry where–?!,” you started, you weren’t necessarily worried about him leaving—more worried about him leaving rafe alone with you.

“i’ll be back, princess. just gotta handle business. y’know how it is. stay here a’ight?,” and he was out the door without another protest from you or rafe—not that rafe had any protest.

“okay, bye…,” you muttered to yourself as you heard the bike starting, and sputtering off. rafe couldn’t help the smirk spreading across his face as he plopped down on the couch next to you.

“looks like it’s just me and you ‘princess’,” he mocked barry’s nickname for you (even though rafe would love to call you it at any given chance).

“looks like it,” you responded, bringing your knees to your chest. you didn’t mind rafe, but he had a tendency to ���flip switches’, and you would be lying if you said that didn’t scare you… just a bit.

“c’mon doll… ‘m not gonna bite,” he taunted quietly. he scooched just a little closer to you. he leaned over so his mouth was right next to your ear, “unless you want me to,” he whispered. you would be lying if you said that didn’t send chills down your spine.

the next thing you felt were his fingers pushing strands of your hair out of your face. he peered down at that awful necklace, reaching out to toy with it. you couldn’t move—you should have, should have gotten up and walked to the other side of the trailer—but you were stuck. not physically—mentally. you didn’t know why, but your brain didn’t even want you to move. told you to ‘stay put. let him do it’.

he released the necklace, letting the metal fall back against your chest. his fingers trailed around your collarbone, featherlight like you would crack if he was too rough. your breathing was uneven and shallow, and rafe was thriving off it.

“haven’t pushed me away, sweetheart,” his low tone aggravated you. not because he was annoying, just because he was so smug. he knew what he was doing to you right now, and he was enjoying it.

“y’know you’re too good f’r him, baby,” he was whispering as if he had to keep it a secret, as if barry was on the other side of the wall. you were frustrated with your speechless-ness, frustrated with the way your thighs clenched together at his words, at his touch. your knees were starting to hurt from being pressed together so hard.

you finally looked toward him, met his lust-filled eyes. his pupils were so blown that his eyes barely looked blue anymore. your breath hitched, plump, glossed lips parting ever so slightly. rafe could feel your warm, unsteady breaths against his face, and his mind went foggy.

he closed the space between you like if he didn’t kiss you now barry might come back before he could—like he had to seize the moment.

you wished you had pulled away, slapped him right across his face, told him how wrong it was—how messed up he was, and kicked him out… but, you didn’t. you couldn’t.

—

“shit, doll… so fuckin’ tight f’r me. barry not big enough f’r ya?,” he said breathlessly as he pumped in and out of you. your naked body was caged against the couch, rafe’s equally naked body moving above you. all you could do was whimper in response. you didn’t know how long barry had been gone at this point, and shamefully… you didn’t care. if he walked in right now while rafe’s dick was making imprints on you, you don’t think you’d even want him to stop. you felt shitty, but rafe quickly distracted you.

"answer me,” he demanded, moving his hand to grasp your throat just enough to grab your attention, and knock the wind out of you.

“fuck! no– no rafe,” you responded. you couldn’t even think—the way his dick was hitting spots you didn’t even know existed was making your head spin.

“say it,” he spat at you—not in a mean way, he was being cocky. he wanted you to say he was better, say barry couldn’t compare… unfortunately, you were too cock drunk to protest.

“barry’s– not… he’s not big– enough. shit!,” your words were broken by moans and sobs—and the pressure rafe had on your throat right now. your back arched off the couch after a particularly deep thrust, sending your eyes to the back of your head.

“yeah… ‘nd fuckin’ remember it, too,” he was putting his all into fucking you. he would make sure he got this opportunity again, but he didn’t know when. he was going to make the absolute best of this. make the best of his best friend’s girlfriend opened on his dick, mascara running down your face, hair messy, totally gone.

his hand left your neck, moving both hands to squeeze your tits—stabilizing him in a way—as he continued moving in and out of you. he looked back at the ‘B’ resting on your chest. you noticed a smirk spread across his face, but you were too blissed out to say anything.

he wrapped his hand around the metal, ripping it from your neck forcefully. you shrieked from the sudden movement, the back of your neck stinging from the action.

“open up, baby,” he cooed. your lips parted instantly, he smiled at your obedience, placing the ‘B’ between your lips, instructing you to bite down on it.

“let barry hear your moans, princess. let him hear how good i make you feel,” the smug look on his face drove you insane—not in the way it did not even 30 minutes ago—in a way that had you clenching around him.

“fuck– jus’ like that… holy shit, pussy’s fuckin’ perfect,” his jaw tensed at the sensation. your arms were hooked around his neck, but when you felt your orgasm approaching, your manicured hands mindlessly raked down his back. a hiss could be heard from the man above you.

"there ya go… cum on this dick, sweetheart. make a mess f’r me,” his hand moved down to rub circles into your clit, and that was all you needed. you were convulsing around him, shaking beneath him, and coming undone with a loud moan that was barely muted by the metal in your mouth.

“want me to cum in ya? get ya all fat with my babies? let barry see you carryin’ my kid? fuck you’d look so hot all plump f’r me,” his words came out in breaths. you could tell he was close.

“mhm! fuck– please ray,” you looked up at him, innocent, big, doe eyes staring right at him, and he was done for. he came in you with a shattered moan, painting your walls white. he pulled out slowly, watching his release drip out of you, and onto barry’s couch. he groaned at the sight, quickly pulling out his phone, taking a picture of your current state—he got all of you, from your messy hair, fucked out expression and glossy eyes, to the mess between your thighs. the ‘B’ still sticking out of your mouth in a sinful way.

you didn’t care. you never let barry take pictures of you—said it was ‘creepy’ and ‘borderline sadistic’, but for some reason when rafe did it… it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

"hope you can keep a secret, doll… because this cannot be the last time i fuck you.”

an: i’m working my way thru some more reqs, so if you sent something i promise it’s in my drafts.ᐟ this was a super fun one to write tho, so thank you to whoever sent this :)

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[finelinefae]

trust [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: bambi wants to try something new

word count: 7.9k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), shy reader, boyfriend!h, smut (soft smut like very gentle and loving), inexperienced y/n

this is part 4 of Bambi, read part 3 here

. . .

How do I shave down there without getting red, itchy bumps?

Follow these six simple steps to prepare for your first time!

How to suck dick 101

Y/N scrolled through a Reddit page at her desktop computer at work, the screen glowing softly in the dim office lighting. It was a page she had found after typing into Google, ‘how to prepare for your first time.’ Hundreds of subreddits appeared, each packed with questions and experiences Y/N hadn’t even considered until reading about them. She had fallen down the rabbit hole, finding a question and then getting lost in the responses.

Lostrabbit23: I lost my virginity at 15 and it was the worst experience of my life!!!! Lasted five minutes and the guy came before he even put his dick inside me, I swear.

Redberry5: Lost my virginity at 25 and it was a good experience. I’m glad I waited for the right person.

Whitedude32: Can’t understand how people can still be virgins past 18 tbh - just get it over with and live a little.

Y/N gnawed on her bottom lip, her eyes absorbing every word on the page. It seemed unnecessary, and she knew she was overthinking as she normally did, but… Y/N had a boyfriend now. A real boyfriend. And with every boyfriend, she knew what was expected.

The more she read, the more she realized how little she knew. A seed of doubt planted itself within her, growing with every scroll. What if Harry found out just how inexperienced she was? What if he didn’t think she looked pretty naked and ended up having second thoughts about being with her? The thought made her stomach twist in knots.

"Are you watching porn?" Lindsey sauntered over to Y/N's desk, balancing a stack of binders on her hip. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she frantically clicked off the incognito tab and opened a random Microsoft Word document.

"W-What?" Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "No! Of course not."

"Hmm," Lindsey placed the binders down with a soft thud and crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing. "Then why do you look like I just caught you red-handed? That’s not like you."

"I wasn’t doing anything," Y/N blurted, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just looking at today’s meeting notes."

Lindsey leaned in, peering over Y/N’s shoulder. "These notes are from three weeks ago."

Y/N’s eyes darted to the date at the top of the page. "I was catching up?" she added, her voice faltering.

Lindsey raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear on her face. "So, is this Reddit obsession new, or have you always had it?"

Y/N’s face burned hotter. "I-I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Lindsey gave her a pointed look, "You left your tabs open during lunch. Rookie mistake."

Y/N felt like dying, “I did?” She almost felt like crying, embarrassment washing over her entire body she could feel it burning, “I-I was just researching stuff,”

Lindsey’s expression softened slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. " What kind of 'stuff' are we talking about here?"

Y/N hesitated, her fingers nervously tapping the edge of her keyboard. "Just… things. You know, advice. Relationship stuff."

Lindsey’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Oh, relationship stuff? Now we're getting somewhere. Who’s the lucky man?”

Y/N and Harry were both sure that Lindsey already knew they were an item but they weren’t going to risk slipping their facade by bringing it up, “Just somebody.” 

Lindsey looked knowingly, “Okay well are you planning on taking the next step with this just somebody?”

Y/N hesitated, unsure how to respond. Whenever things got too intense with Harry, she had a habit of pulling away or steering the conversation elsewhere. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to share those moments with him—she did. But she needed to feel ready, to prepare herself for something so intimate.

“I... I think I want to,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. Her voice trembled as she added, “I just... I just want to be good.”

Lindsey’s expression softened immediately. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, stepping forward to wrap Y/N in a warm hug. The gesture brought a lump to Y/N’s throat. In the weeks since she’d started her new job, Lindsey had become like the older sister she’d never had—someone she could trust completely.

Pulling back, Lindsey held Y/N’s shoulders firmly, her voice gentle but steady. “First of all, you never have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Sex isn’t a performance, it’s personal. It’s about intimacy, connection, and trust. Whatever happens is between you and whoever you’re with, and that’s all that matters.

“Second,” she added with a small smile, “it’s not as complicated as people make it seem. Even if it’s awkward or messy at first, that’s okay. You’ll learn together. That’s one of the best parts of being with someone—discovering their little quirks, preferences, kinks and everything inbetween. Trust me, you’ll be fine. And if anyone ever makes you feel less than beautiful in the process? They’re not worth your time.”

Y/N exhaled, feeling a weight lift from her chest. “Oh no, he’s perfect,” she confessed, her voice tinged with a dreamy sigh. “Better than that. He’s... everything.”

Lindsey chuckled, glancing at her watch. “Well, speaking of perfect, it’s time for us to take a well-deserved lunch break.”

“What?” Y/N blinked in surprise as Lindsey grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the door.

Before she could protest further, Lindsey swung open the door to Harry’s office, revealing him seated at his desk in a perfectly pressed suit. Y/N hadn’t seen much of him that morning, and the sight of him made her heart flutter. She wanted nothing more than to cross the room and curl up in his lap.

Harry glanced up, his lips curving into a warm smile as soon as he spotted her.

“We’re taking an early lunch,” Lindsey declared.

Harry raised an eyebrow, checking the clock on his wall. “It’s 11:30. Lunch doesn’t start for another hour.”

Lindsey waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve been working so hard we deserve an extra break.”

Y/N snapped out of her daze just in time to nod in agreement, though the gesture only made Harry’s gaze soften further.

“Is that right, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. “Mhm,” she mumbled. “We’ve been working very hard.”

Harry chuckled, his gaze flicking back to Lindsey. “Fine. An hour extra, but that’s it. If anyone asks, you’re running errands.”

Lindsey grinned. “Yes, boss. Oh, and we’ll need your credit card.”

Harry scoffed. “Not happening.”

“Worth a shot.” Lindsey shrugged, then headed for the door. Before leaving, she shot them a pointed look. “I’ll grab my coat. No funny business, you two. I’ll be waiting outside.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, Harry stood, straightening his jacket before walking over to Y/N. He reached for her hand, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Harry,” she whispered, her breath catching as he leaned down to kiss her gently.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “You don’t have to go with Lindsey, you know. You could stay here and spend your lunch break with me.”

The suggestion was far too tempting, and Harry’s smile only made it harder to resist.

“She hasn’t even told me where we’re going,” Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the rapid beat of her heart.

Harry reached down, tangling his fingers with hers. His touch was warm, grounding. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Wherever she’s taking you, make sure you don’t overdo it, okay? We still have plans tonight, remember?”

Y/N’s stomach fluttered. Harry had been teasing her about the surprise date all week. She was excited, but also nervous—especially after his cryptic text telling her to wear something she didn’t mind getting dirty.

Harry kissed her again, but their moment was cut short by a loud knock on the door.

“Hurry it up in there! Time’s ticking!” Lindsey’s muffled voice called through the door.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of her, and Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile at the sound.

“Here,” he said, pulling his wallet from the inside pocket of his blazer. He slid out a gleaming gold AMEX card and pressed it into her hand.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “O-Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Bambi,” Harry interrupted, his tone firm but affectionate. The nickname made her heart skip. “Take it.”

His commanding presence was enough to make her stop arguing. She looked up at him, cheeks tinged pink, and nodded.

Y/N stared at the card in her hand like it might bite her. “But Harry,” she whispered, glancing up at him with wide eyes, “I don’t even know what to do with this. What if I lose it? What if I spend too much? What if—”

Harry chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her flushed skin. “Bambi, all you need to do is enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”

Her lips parted, and she blinked up at him, unsure what to say.  “I’ll take good care of it,” she promised in a tiny voice, clutching the card. “And I’ll bring it right back. I promise I won’t spend too much!”

“I know you won’t,” he murmured, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “I trust you.”

Before she could overthink it any further, Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead again, lingering just long enough for her to feel the warmth of him. “Go have fun.”

Her heart did a nervous little flip at the reminder. “O-Okay,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lindsey’s voice interrupted again, sharp but teasing. “Alright, lovebirds, seriously! I’m giving you ten seconds before I come in there and drag her out myself!”

Y/N squeaked and turned to the door. “Coming!” she called, her voice high-pitched and rushed.

Harry smirked, clearly enjoying her flustered state. He stepped back and adjusted his tie, looking every bit the polished professional, but his eyes were still soft as they followed her.

“Be good,” he teased, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. “I’ll try,” she mumbled, giving him a quick, shy smile before hurrying out of the office.

Outside, Lindsey was waiting with her hands on her hips, an exaggeratedly impatient expression on her face.

“About time,” she said, grabbing Y/N’s hand and tugging her down the hallway. “Now, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into with that fancy credit card of his.”

Y/N let out a soft giggle, her fingers curling around the card in her hand. She glanced back toward Harry’s office door one last time, her heart still racing. Even though she was nervous about tonight, she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, too.

Lindsey noticed the dreamy look on Y/N’s face and rolled her eyes with a grin. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

Y/N looked away, pressing her lips together as a shy smile spread across her face. “Maybe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Oh, you’re adorable,” Lindsey laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s make this lunch break worth it.”

. . .

Y/N stood in the small changing room, staring at the pile of delicate lingerie Lindsey had hung on the door hook. Each set was softer and more intricate than the last, made from lace, satin, and ribbons in pastel tones of blue, lavender, mint, and blush. She felt like a clumsy giant in a room of dainty, breakable things.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Y/N called softly through the door.

“You’ve got this,” Lindsey replied encouragingly. “Try the pink one first. It’s so you.”

With trembling hands, Y/N picked up the light blush pink set, the soft lace slipping between her fingers like a whisper. She changed quickly, careful not to look too long in the mirror, and hesitated before stepping out.

“Alright, let me see,” Lindsey said, her voice full of excitement.

Y/N cracked open the door and peeked out timidly. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Promise. Now, come on!”

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped out, crossing her arms over her chest shyly. The pastel pink lace hugged her figure, delicate straps tracing over her shoulders and down her back. Lindsey’s eyes lit up as she took in the sight.

“Oh, you look so cute!” Lindsey grinned. “It’s perfect! Very soft, very sweet. What do you think?”

Y/N glanced at her reflection in the mirror outside the stall, biting her lip. “I don’t know... It feels like... too much? Or maybe not enough?”

Lindsey shook her head, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “It’s not too much, and it’s definitely not too little. It’s elegant and adorable, just like you.”

Y/N flushed and retreated back into the stall to try the next set. The routine continued for several minutes, with Y/N emerging in pastel greens, blues, and creams. Finally, she reached for the last set—a soft taupe-pink shade, almost like the color of cocoa mixed with milk.

When she stepped out in this set, Lindsey gasped softly. “Oh my god.”

Y/N immediately crossed her arms again. “Is it bad? I knew it was too much—”

“No!” Lindsey interrupted, shaking her head vehemently. She stepped closer and took Y/N by the shoulders, turning her toward the mirror. “Look at yourself. You look like a little deer.”

Y/N blinked at her reflection, her brow furrowed. The taupe-pink color complimented her skin tone, and the simple but elegant design made her feel... grown-up, yet still herself.

“I... I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice shaky.

“Hey.” Lindsey crouched slightly to catch Y/N’s gaze in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Stunning. And Harry is going to lose his shit when he sees you in this.”

Y/N’s cheeks flamed. “Lindsey!” she squeaked, burying her face in her hands.

Lindsey laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What? It’s true! Now, I think we’ve found the winner. Let’s go pay before I start crying over how cute you look.”

Y/N nodded shyly, stealing one last glance at herself in the mirror. For the first time, she felt a spark of confidence in her chest. Maybe Harry would love it.

Or, at the very least, she loved it—and that felt just as important.

. . .

Y/N sat comfortably in the passenger seat of Harry’s Porsche, her old t-shirt soft against her skin and her blue jeans slightly worn at the knees. Her baby pink ballet flats rested lightly on the floor, toes tapping absentmindedly as she gazed out the window, trying to decipher where he was taking her. 

Harry, effortlessly cozy in his sweater and loose-fitting jeans, kept one hand on the wheel while the other held hers over the console. His black Vans were slightly scuffed, white socks peeking above the edges. At every red light, he lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing a tender kiss against them as if it were second nature.

“Did y’have fun with Lindsey today?” he asked, sparing a glance in her direction.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Y-Yeah, it was… fun.” She tried not to think about the underwear she had bought earlier particularly because she was currently wearing it beneath her very casual clothing. 

Harry’s lips quirked up in amusement. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“No, it was!” she insisted, sitting up a little straighter. “It was really nice. I don’t spend a lot of time with other girls, so it felt… different. In a good way.”

His smile softened as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before returning his focus to the road. “Y’know you’re welcome to spend time with Sarah and Alessia too.”

“But they’re your friends,” Y/N frowned. “Wouldn’t you feel like I was taking them away?”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course not. What’s mine is yours, love. You’re my girlfriend, remember?”

Y/N’s lips twitched, a giddy warmth settling in her chest. She let her head fall back against the headrest, a slow smile curling on her lips.

“What?” Harry grinned, flicking his eyes toward her for a second.

“I just like it when you say that,” she admitted.

“What? Girlfriend?” he teased, his dimples appearing as he chuckled.

“Mhm,” she hummed, cheeks heating up. “I can’t believe I’m a girlfriend.”

Harry laughed, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “You’re not just a girlfriend, you’re my girlfriend. All mine.”

She liked that label even more.

Later on, the soft crunch of gravel beneath the tires signaled their arrival. Harry pulled into a small stone parking lot in front of what looked like a quaint, cottage-style home. The windows glowed warmly against the dusky sky, lace curtains fluttering slightly from the inside. There was no sign or indication of where they were, just an inviting little house with flower boxes lining the window sills.

Y/N glanced around, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Where are we?”

Harry smirked, already opening his door. “You’ll see.”

Curiosity buzzed in her stomach as she climbed out of the car, the crisp evening air wrapping around her. Harry met her at the front, slipping his hand into hers and leading her toward the wooden door.

Before she could ask any more questions, the door creaked open to reveal an elderly woman with wispy white hair pinned up in a loose bun. She wore a pastel apron dusted with flour and had a kind twinkle in her eye.

“Harry, darling!” she greeted, pulling him into a soft hug before turning to Y/N with an equally warm smile. “And you must be Y/N! Oh, you’re just as lovely as he said.”

Y/N’s brows shot up as she looked between Harry and the woman. “He’s mentioned me?”

“Oh, love, he wouldn’t stop talking about you,” she chuckled, stepping aside to usher them in. The scent of vanilla and butter filled the air, making Y/N’s mouth water. “Come in, come in, we’ve got cakes to decorate!”

Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly as she turned to Harry. “Really?”

Harry grinned, squeezing her hand. “Thought you’d like it.” Y/N let out a delighted squeal as she followed him inside. 

The cozy kitchen looked straight out of a storybook—wooden shelves lined with jars of sugar and sprinkles, floral-printed tea towels hanging neatly by the stove, and a large wooden table in the center covered with piping bags, frosting tubs, and trays of undecorated cupcakes.

Y/N hesitated at the doorway, her fingers curling around Harry’s sleeve as she peeked inside. “I’ve always wanted to do a baking class,” she admitted, eyes wide with curiosity.

Harry turned to her with a grin. “I know,”

She furrowed her brows, “How did you find out?”

“You’re brothers told me,” He shrugged.

The elderly woman, who had introduced herself as Margaret, beamed at her. “Don’t worry if you’ve never done this before—I’ll show you everything!”

Y/N’s fingers fiddled with the edge of her sleeve as she stepped further into the cozy kitchen, taking in the warm scent of vanilla and sugar. She glanced at Harry, still feeling a little surprised that he had gone out of his way to plan something so thoughtful.

Margaret handed them each an apron, and Y/N hesitated before slipping hers over her head. As she struggled to tie the strings behind her back, she felt a familiar presence behind her.

“Here, Bambi,” Harry murmured, gently tugging the ends and tying them into a neat bow.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her apron. “Thank you…” she said softly, peeking up at him.

Harry just hummed, the corner of his mouth twitching as he reached for his own apron.

Margaret clapped her hands together. “Now, let’s get started! We’ve got a few cakes ready for decorating, and you two can pick whichever frosting colors you like.”

Y/N followed her to the counter, where bowls of pastel-colored buttercream sat beside trays of undecorated cakes. She hovered near the edge, unsure where to start.

Harry, on the other hand, grabbed a piping bag without hesitation. “I used to work at a bakery so don’t be surprised if my cake turns into a masterpiece,” he declared, scooping up a generous amount of frosting.

Y/N watched him for a moment, then turned back to her own cake. She carefully picked up a piping bag but hesitated before squeezing it. “What if I mess it up?” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Margaret overheard and smiled warmly. “There’s no such thing, dear. It’s just cake. If it doesn’t turn out how you want, we’ll eat the evidence.”

Y/N let out a small giggle, feeling a little more at ease. She took a deep breath and pressed down on the piping bag, carefully swirling the frosting onto the cake. Her hands were a little shaky, but as she stepped back, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit proud.

Harry glanced over and tilted his head. “That’s cute,” he said, nodding toward her cake.

Y/N tucked her chin down, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, before turning back to his own. “Almost as good as mine,”

Y/N peeked at his cake and bit her lip to hold back a giggle. His frosting was uneven, the swirls lopsided. She glanced up at him, unsure if she should say anything.

He must have noticed because he smirked. “Go on, laugh.”

She shook her head quickly. “N-No! I—I think it’s lovely.”

Harry chuckled, nudging her lightly. “lovely, huh?”

Y/N felt her face heat up and quickly focused back on her cake, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Before she could react, Harry swiped a bit of icing onto his finger and gently smeared it across her cheek. She gasped, eyes widening in surprise as he leaned in slightly, a playful smirk on his lips.

“I think you’re lovely,” he murmured.

Margaret smiled knowingly. “You two make a lovely pair,” she said as she reached for some sprinkles. “Now, who wants to add the finishing touches?”

Y/N reached for a jar of soft pink sugar pearls, her fingers barely brushing Harry’s as he reached for the same one.

He didn’t move his hand right away, just glanced at her with a small smile. “You take it,” he said softly, his pinkie finger poking her hand. Y/N ducked her head, feeling a flutter in her chest as she carefully took the jar.

With the finishing touches added—Harry’s cake looking as delightfully messy as ever, and Y/N’s decorated with delicate swirls and tiny pearls—they both stepped back, admiring their work.

Margaret beamed at them. “Wonderful, both of you! Now, how about some tea? You’ve earned it.”

Y/N nodded quickly, grateful for something to do other than stand there under Harry’s watchful gaze. She followed Margaret to a cozy table near the window, where a teapot and delicate china cups were already set up. The scent of chamomile and honey filled the air as Margaret poured them each a cup.

Harry stretched out beside Y/N, his long legs brushing hers beneath the table. He didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he wasn’t letting on.

As Y/N stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, curiosity finally got the better of her. She glanced between Harry and Margaret before speaking up softly. “How do you two know each other?”

Margaret smiled as she set down the teapot. “Oh, I’m an old friend of Harry’s mum. We go way back.” She turned to Harry with a teasing glint in her eye. “She’s actually coming to visit next week for his birthday.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around her teacup.

Birthday?

Her mind spun. Harry hadn’t mentioned his birthday. Not once. And now she had to meet his mum?

Oh. Oh no.

She must’ve gone silent for too long because Harry’s gaze flickered toward her, his brows furrowing slightly.

Then, under the table, she felt it—his hand, warm and steady, pressing gently against her thigh.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she looked up at him, wide-eyed.

He didn’t say anything, just gave her a knowing look—one that was both amused and reassuring. His thumb brushed lightly over the fabric of her jeans, a silent gesture that somehow grounded her and made her even more flustered all at once.

“You alright, Bambi?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N swallowed hard and nodded quickly, even though her heart was racing.

Harry’s lips twitched, clearly not believing her. But, mercifully, he didn’t push. He just kept his hand where it was, a steady presence beneath the table.

Y/N took a sip of her tea, hoping it would hide the blush creeping up her neck.

She had two problems now: figuring out what to do for his birthday and somehow surviving meeting his mum without making a complete fool of herself.

And, judging by the knowing smirk on Harry’s lips, he was well aware of both.

. . .

“Thank you for having us,” Y/N said softly, offering Margaret a small smile as they stood by the door.

Margaret waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nonsense, dear. It was lovely having you both.” Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “You’re welcome to come back and do some baking with me anytime, Y/N.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the offer. She glanced at Harry, who was watching the exchange with amusement, then back at Margaret. “Oh—I’d love to,” she said shyly.

Margaret patted her arm warmly before turning to Harry. “Take care, love. And don’t forget to call your mum.”

Harry groaned playfully. “You’ve been talking to her too much.”

Margaret only laughed, waving them off as they made their way to the car.

Once inside, Y/N fastened her seatbelt and turned to look at Harry, who was adjusting the mirrors. She hesitated for a moment before finally voicing the thoughts swirling in her head.

“You didn’t tell me your mom was coming to see you,” she said, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Or that it was your birthday.”

Harry shot her a side glance, lips twitching slightly. “I didn’t want to panic you.”

She frowned. “About your birthday?”

“I don’t like the attention,” he admitted simply.

That made her pause. She looked at him, watching the way his fingers tapped idly against the steering wheel.

Silence settled between them for a beat before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Are you mad?”

The question shocked her. Her brows knitted together. “No, of course not,” she said quickly. Then, softer, “Just… worried.”

Harry turned to her fully now, one arm draped over the steering wheel as he studied her. “Worried?”

“What if your mom doesn’t like me?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

His expression softened. “I think she already does.”

Y/N blinked. “Huh?”

“You’re all I talk about when I speak to her these days, Bambi,” he said, his voice warm, sure. “Believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about.”

A small huff left her lips as she sank deeper into her seat, still unsure if that made her feel better or worse.

“Bambiiiiii,” Harry drawled, his tone teasing. “Give me a kiss.”

She almost smiled, shaking her head as she turned toward him to say something—maybe to protest, maybe just to stall—but she never got the chance.

Before she could speak, Harry cupped her entire face in his hands, tilting her chin up as he kissed her.

Y/N melted instantly, her hands hesitating before resting lightly against his chest. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, his lips moving against hers with a kind of lazy confidence that made her stomach flip.

He pulled back just enough for their noses to brush, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You taste like frosting,” he murmured against her mouth.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her fingers curling slightly against his shirt.

Maybe she was still nervous about meeting his mom. Maybe she was still reeling from the fact that his birthday was next week. But right now, in this moment, all she could focus on was him.

“Come on,” Harry’s hand rested on her knee, “Let’s get you home.” 

The drive back was quiet, comfortable. The occasional hum of a song on the radio filled the space between them, but neither of them felt the need to talk much. Harry’s hand rested casually on the gear shift, fingers drumming lightly, while Y/N watched the familiar streets pass by through the window.

Before she knew it, they were outside her house. Harry shifted into park and turned toward her with a small smile. “Home safe, Bambi.”

Y/N reached for the door handle but hesitated.

She didn’t want the night to end just yet.

Biting her lip, she turned to face him properly. “Do you… want to come inside?”

Harry blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, “Yeah?”

Y/N nodded, suddenly feeling a little nervous under his gaze. “Yeah.”

His face softened into something warmer, more curious. He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You sure?”

Y/N swallowed, then nodded again. “I just—” She exhaled, giving a small shrug. “I’m not ready for you to leave yet.”

Harry’s expression changed, something fond flickering in his green eyes before he reached over, fingers brushing her chin briefly.

“Then I won’t,” he murmured.

With that, he shut off the car and stepped out, rounding to meet her at the front steps.

Y/N’s stomach fluttered as she unlocked the door, fully aware of Harry standing just behind her. And as she pushed it open and stepped inside, she couldn’t help but smile when she heard him close the door behind them.

“Everyone’s asleep. We can go upstairs to my room,” she whispered, locking the front door behind them. Slipping off her shoes, she glanced back as Harry did the same, his movements quiet and easy.

Without thinking, she reached for his hand, her fingers curling around his as she led him up the stairs. They tiptoed carefully past her brother’s rooms, the only sound the faint creak of the wooden steps beneath them.

Once inside, she gently shut the door and turned to find Harry standing in the middle of her room, his gaze slowly sweeping over the space.

It was strange seeing him there—so tall, so effortlessly cool—against the soft pink and white of her bedroom. He looked almost out of place, yet somehow, he didn’t.

His eyes landed on the mannequin in the corner, where a partially finished dress hung, delicate ruffles cascading down the fabric.

“Did you make this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he stepped closer, taking in the details.

Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly shy. “Yeah… it’s taking a lot longer than I thought it would.”

Harry turned to her, something like awe flickering across his face. “Bambi,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “You should be working with the design team at Pleasing, not stuck behind a desk.”

Her eyes widened, heat creeping up her neck. “Oh, no, no,” she protested quickly, waving a hand. “The desk job is more than enough.”

Harry just hummed, still admiring the dress. “At least give it a think.”

Y/N blinked, a confused smile tugging at her lips. “Wait, are you offering?”

Harry turned to face her, already standing just a step away, the small space of her room almost too close. His lips curled into a teasing grin. “I don’t know… do you want me to?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and before she could answer, Harry intertwined their fingers, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through her. He lowered his head, his lips ghosting over hers, just a breath away.

“I think you’re going to do such great things, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain. “You don’t need me for that.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, the sincerity in his voice melting the walls she had built up around herself. Her chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, she kissed him, her lips pressing against his with a soft urgency.

His hands cupped her cheeks gently, his touch grounding her as she stepped back, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of her bed. They both tumbled onto it in a tangle of limbs, Y/N’s heart thudding loudly against her chest.

His hands moved to her hips, fingers digging into her skin beneath her shirt, pulling her closer. The warmth of his touch made her pulse quicken, and her mind raced, completely overwhelmed by the closeness.

Her thoughts scattered, and she found herself whispering, almost breathless. “Y—you can take it off.”

Harry’s hands stilled, his brows furrowing in confusion. “My shirt, I mean.”

His lips parted slightly, eyes widening as he processed what she’d said. “Are you sure?”

She nodded, her heart in her throat, “I-I’m sure,” She replied. 

Harry didn’t respond at first, his eyes scanning her face to make sure she truly meant what she said. His fingers tugged on the ends of her shirt and she nodded once more to let him know it was okay and what she wanted. 

Harry lifted her shirt, his fingers grazing her skin as he pulled it over her head. The cool air prickled against her newly exposed skin, but the way his gaze darkened sent a different kind of heat through her. 

"God," he murmured, voice thick with something unspoken, his eyes scanned the underwear she was wearing. He said nothing at first, Y/N’s nerves growing at his silence. Her first instinct was to put her shirt back on to cover herself up but his fingers wrapped around her wrist, “Are you real?” 

Y/N giggled, “I think so,” she poked her tummy and Harry laughed.

“I must have been good at some point in time, I don’t think you’d be here if I weren’t.” 

“You are good Harry,” Y/N murmurs.

“For you,” Harry whispers, “I’ll be anything. Anything y’ want, Bambi. I’ll bend and break myself to be whatever you want me to be. I’ve never been one for religion, but I’ve only ever prayed long and hard for someone like you, and now here you are. You’re like holding a piece of Heaven.”

Y/N's breath catches, the weight of his words settling deep within her chest. She reaches up, her fingers brushing against his cheek, tracing the lines of his jaw with a softness that matches her racing heart. "Harry..."

His eyes soften as they meet hers, the intensity never wavering, but there's something tender in his gaze now, something that says he's not just talking about desire, but something deeper, more profound.

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers twitching at her sides before she reached for the hem of his shirt. He smirked, eyes locked onto hers as he helped her tug it over his head, his movements fluid, confident. Her eyes rounded at the tattoos that littered his muscular torso. Her hands hesitated over the hard lines of his chest, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips making her pulse stutter.

"Go on," Harry urged, his voice low, teasing. "Touch me."

Her breath hitched, but she obeyed, palms trailing cautiously over his chest, feeling the steady, unshaken beat of his heart. Unlike her own, which was hammering in her ribs. She traced her fingers over a particular tattoo on his left pectoral.

Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she noticed the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the warmth of his body against hers making her pulse quicken. Harry’s eyes softened as he watched her, his lips curling into a smile.

"Relax, love," he murmured, cupping her chin and tilting her face up to his. "S’just me."

And then he kissed her again—deep, sure, in control. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she melted into him, letting him take the lead, letting him guide her through the intensity of it all.

They kissed for a while, Harry’s hands roaming over her skin, slowly learning the contours of her body as though he were memorizing each moment. Y/N melted into him, feeling the heat between them grow, her heart racing, pulse quickening under his touch. 

Y/N pulled away for a brief second to catch his breath, his eyes were hazy, his lips were pinker than usual and lazy grin lingered on his lips. “What are y’ thinking about Bambi?” 

She wondered how he could already read her so well. Her mind had been drifting the entire evening to this very moment, and now she was in it, her mouth dry and she couldn’t seem to conjure up the words. “H-Harry I-” The words were on the tip of her tongue, her mind drifting to a reddit article she read three days prior with tips on this exact situation. 

Harry waited patiently for her to continue, letting her have her space to gain the confidence to ask whatever she needed to. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the hesitation in her voice, and he respected it, not rushing her, not pushing for anything.

She sighed, her words barely above a whisper, "I bought this bra today."

Harry nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "It’s very pretty, Bambi. So pretty on you." His lips brushed the side of her neck, a gentle, tender gesture meant to reassure her.

But Y/N could feel the weight of her own thoughts pressing on her chest. "B-but there’s a reason I bought it," she continued, her voice shaky.

Harry paused, his lips stilling against her skin as he pulled back slightly to look at her, his gaze full of warmth and curiosity. “What do you mean?”

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she gathered the courage to speak. "I... I want to try things with you."

Harry’s expression softened, the shock in his eyes mixing with a deeper understanding. He gave her a moment to continue, sensing that she wasn’t finished.

"I want you to do stuff with me." She felt her cheeks flush, but she held his gaze, refusing to look away.

He stayed silent for a beat, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his voice calm but filled with concern. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for his, needing his touch to ground her. “I want to touch you.” She whispered in his ear, her cheeks scorching.

Harry choked, “Bambi,” He could feel himself hardening in his trousers.

She quickly continued, her voice a little shaky. “But y—you have to help me because… reading things online make it hard to understand, and those articles about… it’s confusing.”

Harry took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles as he looked into her eyes, his expression filled with warmth. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her gently. “We’ll go slow. No pressure. I’ll help you, I promise. What is it you had in mind, Bambi?”

“I’m too embarrassed to say it out loud,” She admitted, breezing past the whole ‘pretending to be confident’ moment she had pictured in her head. “I feel embarrassed not knowing anything.”

Harry’s gaze softened, and Y/N wasn’t sure why it comforted her. He wasn’t showing sympathy, frustration, or excitement—his expression was unreadable, almost effortless. It was as if her uncertainty didn’t matter to him, as if knowing nothing made no difference at all. Being with her was enough, and whatever came with it was just a bonus.

“How about I’ll help you first,” He gently guided her onto his lap, his hands steady on her waist as he settled her against him. “Just follow my lead, yeah?” His voice was soft, reassuring, but there was an edge of something deeper in his tone—something patient yet undeniably wanting.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she adjusted herself, feeling the warmth of his body beneath her. His hands, warm and firm, traced slow circles on her hips, grounding her. “You don’t have to rush,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “This is just us. You and me.”

She exhaled shakily, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she let herself relax against him. The feeling was new, overwhelming but not in a bad way. Safe. Warm. Intimate in a way she hadn’t expected.

Harry’s fingers trailed up her spine, his touch featherlight but deliberate. “Tell me what feels good, Bambi,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Y/N swallowed, her body tingling at his words. “O-okay,” she breathed, trusting him completely.

Y/N shuddered as Harry’s hands splayed on her thighs, his fingers playfully playing with the hook of her underwear that rested on her hips. His thumb made circles on her skin, goosebumps rising where he traced, ‘Is this okay?” He whispered, eyes looking into hers. 

She nodded. His fingers sliding down further until they cupped her between her legs, “What about this?” 

She gaped, “Yes Harry,” 

“M’kay,” Warm breath fanned down her neck. 

Beneath her, Y/N could feel Harry’s hardening length. Her eyes widened, her breath hitching as she shifted slightly, the sensation unfamiliar yet thrilling. Harry’s grip on her hips tightened just a fraction, his jaw clenching as he exhaled through his nose.

“You feel that, Bambi?” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint.

She nodded, her hands clutching his shoulders, her heart hammering against her ribs. “It’s… um, it’s big,” she admitted shyly, her cheeks burning.

“Do you trust me?” Harry asked.

“Completely,” Y/N whispered with a nod. Harry didn’t hesitate, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before his hand drifted lower.

With careful precision, he hooked his fingers around the fabric of her underwear, tugging it aside. She wondered if he could feel the razor bumps from where she had tried to shave. If he did he didn’t say anything, just whispered, “Y’ the most perfect girl. How are you real?” She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or himself. 

The moment his fingers brushed past her folds, searching for her clit, she stiffened, a sharp inhale catching in her throat. Letting out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping his shoulders as a wave of unfamiliar yet intoxicating pleasure coursed through her. Harry watched her closely, his eyes dark with focus, making sure she was comfortable.

“Relax, Bambi,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her temple as his fingers moved with deliberate care. 

Y/N’s breath hitched as he found the sensitive bundle of nerves, his touch gentle yet firm. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and she instinctively pressed closer to him, seeking more.

“That’s it,” Harry murmured, his free hand stroking her thigh reassuringly. “You’re doing so good for me.”

She felt heat pool in her stomach, her body responding in ways she never imagined. “Harry,” she whimpered, barely recognizing her own voice.

His lips curled into a smirk as he pressed a kiss just below her ear. “I’ve got you, love,” he promised, his fingers working her with steady, patient movements. “You’re truly quite perfect.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words, but then her brows furrowed as a thought crept into her mind—she wanted to do something for Harry, too. This wasn’t meant to be just about her.

But as his fingers continued their slow, torturous movements, her thoughts blurred into nothingness. Her body responded instinctively, her hips rutting against his hand when he brushed a particularly sensitive spot.

Harry groaned, the sound deep and raw, sending a fresh wave of heat through her. The effect it had on her was instant—she wanted to hear it again. So she did it once more, rolling her hips into his touch.

“Y’ gonna kill me, Bambi,” he rasped, his grip on her tightening as he fought to keep control.

Harry let out a strained chuckle, his fingers tightening around her hips as he steadied her movements. His gaze was heavy-lidded, filled with something dark and reverent as he watched her.

“So damn sweet,” he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. “All wide-eyed and trembling… just like a little deer.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her breath catching at his words. His comparison made her feel small, delicate—like something precious in his hands. 

Harry’s breath grew heavier, his grip on her hips firm as he guided her movements, letting her find what felt good. Y/N was completely lost in the sensation—his fingers working her with precise, devastating strokes, his voice low and coaxing as he whispered sweet praises in her ear.

“That’s it, Bambi,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “Let yourself feel it.”

Her body trembled, overwhelmed by the pleasure building inside her. She clung to him, fingers pulling on the curls at the nape of his neck, his head falling back as she rocked against his hand, chasing the high she had never quite reached before.

Harry was struggling himself, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged as her movements sent jolts of pleasure straight through him. He was achingly hard beneath her, the friction almost too much, especially when she rolled her hips just right.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers faltering for a moment before he doubled down, determined to push her over the edge first. “You feel so good, love—so perfect.”

His words sent her spiraling. A broken moan slipped past her lips as the tension inside her snapped, pleasure crashing over her in waves. Her body tensed, then melted, a shuddering mess in his arms as she came undone.

The sight of her—the way she trembled, the breathy whimpers falling from her lips—was Harry’s undoing. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering as he followed right after her, lost in his own release.

For a moment, neither of them moved, both caught in the aftershocks of pleasure, their breaths mingling as they clung to each other. Y/N felt boneless, her head resting against his shoulder, her heart still hammering in her chest.

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Harry,” Y/N confessed, her voice soft in the quiet light of her room. It was the most honest thing she had ever said, the most vulnerable she had ever allowed herself to be.

Harry’s eyes shone with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe it was love, maybe it was more but she couldn’t quite figure out what meant more than love. Unless what she was feeling was exactly that- something more- because when she thought about loving Harry, the word seemed much too small. She wanted to be the same person, wanted to melt into his skin and never find where she ended and he began. 

His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns on her back as he held her, grounding her in the moment. “Maybe it’s your first orgasm talking.” He chuckled and she playfully nudged him before laughing with him. 

As her eyes fluttered shut, inhaling the scent of him—warm, familiar, safe, she heard him whisper, “I think I’m two steps ahead of you Bambi.” and her heart pounded against her chest. 

Maybe love wasn’t a big enough word for what she felt, but whatever it was, it belonged to him. And she had a feeling it always would.

[edenspoem]

i wanna ride ellie’s little nose :((

hearing her soft whimpers as I fuck her nose up

note: alright, since this little post i made sparked up some conversation, i will tap some actual content out of it! mdni. college au. loser!ellie. join the discord! | kofi

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬: 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞

ellie isn't so practiced to being in this position; her heart is fucking pounding. not a lithe beat, or a pitter-pattering across the flesh—you can feel it through your thighs curled around her arms. you can see it in her blown eyes, trembling, and thickened with those pupils staring up at you. the indents of her fingertips sharpening into your legs, tattooed wrist constricted—restless. she hates this little interlude you subject her to. you're fondling her fragile trigger when you're sat a mere inch above her pretty lips, wet and glistening; who could blame her for getting so riled up?

impatience drags her fingers over your ass. it gets gripped gently. “thought you weren't being serious,” she states through a laugh—a breathless one. “but, i should know better, right?” her laughs hit that damned sweet spot in you that gets you going.

you tug a couple more out with a tip-tap on that precious nose. “mhm.” and then, those fingers end their frolic in her hair, forming a firm grip. it tugs a different sound out of her. a captured whimper. she is starving, and cannot mouth an actual word to soothe or substantiate it. ellie—two steps ahead of her motions—is already thinking about her lips on your cunt.

you position your slit on her available tongue, and she moans like she met heaven. a long, loose-lipped moan of satisfaction. something of a curving, “mmhhh..” and a brow-pull to go along with it; your scent, taste, and pushing of her face into your grinding hips hit all the right wires. now, she cannot let go. you shift your hip one route, and she follows with hungered licks. groping her breasts, you encourage that wanton behaviour.

“good fuckin girl, el.”

she gives your ass a delicate slap in admission. subconscious admission.

all that movement creates a cathedral of pornographics sounds. ellie, whoring her face out for you, lets nothing go to waste past her chin. she bobs her head, attempting to steal more laps of you, but ends up with the head of her nose prodding your clit each time. it sends a coiling through your pelvis, agreements up your throat, “fuck—such a pretty little nose your parents gave you..” and gives you the idea to continue. “you like it when i fuck it, huh?” fucking the tip of it, until it folds up and pre-cum begins to line it. inside, outside. it's perfect position is a practical beg for you to spread your legs and sit on it. ride it like she doesn't know what she's doing (which—contrary to what bigots in her college circulate online—she knows how to fuckin' eat pussy; don't get her wrong.) she knows now—she won't be able to rid it from her mind for weeks; the poor girl has to dangle from memories considering how little she sees you. what, with astrophysics and all? it's pitiful enough watching her touch herself to it—touch herself to the feeling of eating you out.

you chew your resting lip and almost draw blood noticing: the bulge of a free hand in her jeans, gentle touching below the seam. then, on it comes. the repeated whining—moaning like she's the one getting fucked. all it takes is for you to tilt her head, tug her eyes out from under you—and it blows out. the sight of her red, fucked-out, rubbed-against and wet face makes you cum.

how could it not?

“that was.. actually pretty hot,” ellie would blurt, after it had happened. after she had tugged herself enough to cum. regardless, she still had a couple laughs left in her system, and urged against her ribs to get them out while the patron of her affection was still in her presence—still on her doorstep. she would rather you be more than just a hookup. “i'm so fuckin' stupid about you, it's a little embarassing.” the door frame quietly settled with her leaning on it. “uh, you free tomorrow?”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

nah cause all i can think abt it rafe being an absolute DICKHEAD to everyone but you. like he 180 changes when ur around and it completely baffles everyone.

OOOOH yes. everyone tellin you “he’s a dickhead, I don’t get why you’re with him.” And youre like “wdym? he’s the sweetest boy ever.” because you nd him and literally like this everyday

his friends hate it sm. I imagine it would go something like this

🪷 ꪆৎ 🕊️‧₊˚♡︎

Everywhere Rafe went, you followed. His friends never had the balls to say anything and just let it happen.

At parties, he was drinking and leaning in his chair, talking to Barry, who currently smoked a joint. A man sat in front of them, offering them an amount of money for the gold from the cross.

Rafe shook his head at the offer.

“That all?” Rafe asked him, unamused.

“I mean,” the dude scoffed. “How much would you take for it?”

“This bar is at least 5 grand. If you don’t got the money, fuckin’ stop wasting my time.”

“How is that five grand?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, irritated as he shut the case the gold was kept it. “Yo, what the fuck did I just say? Stop wasting my time. Get the fuck out.” He nodded, the man scoffing and shaking his head, standing up and walking away.

Rafe seemed irritated, his eyebrows furrowed and his face rested in an annoyed expression. That was until he glanced up and saw you walking towards him.

The man that had tried to buy the gold pushed past you, making you furrow your eyebrows at his rudeness.

Rafe had seen it, his irritation and anger bubbling once again. You just shrugged it off as you continued your stride to your boyfriend.

And he saw your bubbly demeanor, bouncing around happily as you walked towards him with the sweetest smile. He melted, the corners of his lips twisting up to form a smile. You fell into his lap, clearly drunk as you slurred out his name happily, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Hey, baby.” He mumbled softly and quietly, hands rubbing circles on your legs.

Barry raised his eyebrows at Rafe, Rafe motioning for him to leave, his old glare back before he turned his attention back to you.

“You tired?” He asked you quietly.

“Yeah. Wanna go home, Rafey.” You whined and complained. And with anyone else, the nickname would have had someone 6 feet under.

“Alright. We’ll go home. Lemme just clean up here, Kay’?” He patted your ass softly, gently getting you off his lap.

“‘Kay.” You mumbled tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and waiting, but before he could even turn around to you, you were fast asleep on the couch.

He sighed, shaking his head and smiling again to himself.

[3amfanfiction]

ghost johnny is diabolical

trying to bargain with him so you can pull your shirt back down and in a fit of desperation you tell him you’ll leave your bra off

he seems to back off and you readjust your shirt before carrying on with your evening, only to feel the temperature in the room to drop significantly after your guests arrive

suddenly your nipples are rock hard once again and he’s splashing a glass of water over your (now see through) white tshirt, and you have to play it off as being clumsy in front of all your guests 🌝

Yeeesssss you are cooking woolie

He starts whispering in your ear while you’re sat at the table. All of the filthy things he’s realized he can do to with you. How he might start before your guests can leave, give them a bit of a show

So you start ushering them out, making something up about feeling sick, so sorry, next time at one of the others’ house, see you then.

You collapse back against the front door, exhausted. That’s when you see him for the first time. This big burly man who had biceps wider than your head who looked like he could carry you for days. He grins charmingly at you before stepping close and you feel the weight of him press against you, pinning you in place.

“Well, if it isn’t the little thief who stole my home,” says the voice that has been purring in your ear all evening.

You can’t do more than than think oh shit

Part three

[melodiesz]

König & his demonic back shots are plaguing my thoughts 😣😣

Warnings: 18+, this is pure filth so like yeah🤨 König x female reader, p in v, just a short blurb ୨୧

Cause I know damn well this man would give the FILTHIEST back shots. Like you feel like your being resurrected every time he slams you onto his cock.

“Maus- oh fuuuuck…” He groaned, drilling into you with so much force the bed shook.

You were moaning and screaming into the pillow, your backside being held up completely by him. He manhandled you on his cock like a doll, mindlessly slamming into your cunt over and over like he was trying to fuck the demons right out of his body.

He reached down and circled your waist, holding you up with just one arm. With his free hand he rubbed at your clit, always making sure you feel good no matter how pussy-drunk he is. The man is just so big—it feels like he’s everywhere. If you didn’t know any better you’d assume he was reaching all the way down to your throat. The slight pain of him slamming into your cervix overwhelmed your senses and heightened the pleasure along with the feeling of him playing with your clit. You doubted either of you were making it there after this but you could have swore you saw a flash of heavens gates every time he plunged into you.

He spread your legs wider and angled his thrusts to meet that spongey spot inside you every time his pelvis met your ass with an audible slap ! Even the sound of the headboard slamming into the wall wasn’t enough to drown out both your noises. This was definitely gonna earn you a noise complaint—tho it was worth it for the mind blowing orgasm that washed over you when that coil in your stomach finally snapped.

You came all over his cock, leaving a sticky white ring around the base of it that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of every time he slid his thick cock in and out again. With a pathetic whimper you never thought you’d hear come out of a man of his size, he pressed into you as deep as your body would let him and came hard. 

So much of his seed was stuffed inside you that it began to flow out, dripping all over both of your thighs. Before you could complain, he collapsed on top of you, crushing you with his weight. It felt like being stuck under a city bus, but you just sighed and let him have this one.

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

longer aftercare with quinn after a particularly heavy intense session with him where ur deep in sub space and take longer to get out of it>>

i’m so soft for him, please i have so many other thoughts with Q and aftercare

“Did so good, so so good.” He’s mumbling as he presses slow, soft kisses against your tear stained cheeks.

“Daddy,” he cut you off.

“Nuh huh, just Quinny right now.” His hands rubbing soft circles on your reddened thighs. “Need you to look at me, baby.”

He’s sitting on his heels when your half lidded eyes meet his. “I’m gonna run into the bathroom okay? Gonna go grab the lotion for your wrists and some ibuprofen. 5 minutes and i’ll be back. I love you.”

He’s not even gone for 2 minutes. He can’t stand to be away from you after a rough session. Especially a rough session you’re barely speaking after.

Body so overwhelmed with the pleasure he was ripping from you. Brain just stuck on the mantra: daddy, daddy, daddy.

His hands brought relief to your worn skin, aches easing with each gentle touch he gave. Never letting the cold of the lotion hit you.

Once he finally looked down at you again he was quick to notice your lips perched up, chuckling to himself.

“Whatcha doing there, precious?”

“Wanna kiss.” Your strained voice let out.

“Oh yeah? Right here?” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

Noticing the shake of your head, he moved up to your cheek. “Here?”

“Nuh huh.”

“Oh! Here then?” As he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“Quinny.” You whined, dragging out his name.

“What baby? Gave you what you wanted.” He’s teasing now, he knows what you want. He always knows.

The sounds of you kissing the air made his heart flutter and his cheeks flush.

He leaned in, “oh, you mean right here” as he pressed his lips to yours. Warm, and welcoming. Moulded to him, just like you were made for him. All of you, was just for him.

“I love you so much, pretty.”

[maybanksprincess]

thigh riding.

warnings: thigh riding, fingers in mouth, kissing, jj cumming in his boxers, palming, tiny aftercare at the end.

summary: jj cums in his boxers to his pretty girlfriend riding his thigh <3

requested by this ask, (thank you anon!🤍)

it was 9:56 on a saturday night. your at jjs house and you had grown bored several hours ago. you were sick of scrolling on ur phone and seeing peoples instagram posts about their boring life.

you look over at your boyfriend in his gaming chair. he's wearing a wife beater and some grey sweatpants, his foot tapping the floor, softly drumming against the wood of the floorboard.

you can't help but bite your lip as you look at him, the way his arms flex, along his hands quickly pressing the buttons on his controller. you catch yourself pressing your thighs together in attempt to get some relief from the throbbing on your core.

you would've said something way sooner about wanting attention, but you couldn't bring yourself to draw your eyes away from how sexy he looked playing his video games.

you decide you want some attention, so you stand up, adjusting your shorts and then walking over to his gaming chair where his setup is.

He has his computer screen on the desk, along with a keyboard with crumbs of weed on it, (of course). Theres a joint, freshly rolled, beside his mouse.

you take a seat on his lap, straddling his thigh, and wrapping your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his shoulder and try to forget about the ache between your legs.

JJ immediately pauses his game, turning his attention to you, and setting down his controller on the messy desk.

"hey baby, what's wrong?" he asks in that raspy voice that never fails to turn you on. he looks at you with those baby blue eyes that make your heart race and your thighs clench.

"jus' wanted to be held..." you mumble, a little pout forming on your lips.

he can see the way your thighs clench as you look at his arms, and his lips involuntarily curve into a smirk. "yeah? you jus' wanted some attention, huh baby?" he can already feel his cock start to stir in his pants, and he shifts around, trying to get comfortable with you sitting on his leg all pretty like that.

in the process of him shifting around, his knee bumps up to your core, your eyes fly open and go wide, a high-pitched moan falling from your lips suddenly.

his smirk grows even wider "did that feel good mama?" he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it out of your mouth.

you nod and start to ground your pussy on his thigh, the wetness in your panties starting to seep through onto his grey sweatpants.

jj groans at the sight, "mm your gettin' so messy f' me baby. keep riding my thigh. mhm jus' like that" he bites his lip to keep himself from pathetically groaning at the sight of you riding his thigh.

he reaches over with the hand that isnt on your waist to palm himself through his sweatpants. his eyes roll back, and he thinks about how good it would feel to be inside of you.

he starts to hear your breathing get heavier, your movements more frantic. "are you close baby?" he asks in that soft voice, gently tracing his veiny fingers along your thigh.

you nod, and your eyes roll back as you continue to ride his thigh. you can feel the pressure in your core building up and his sweet praises have you at the very edge.

"cmon sweet girl, 's okay. you gonna cum f' me?" he asks while using one hand to brush your hair away from your damp forehead, pushing your hair gently behind your shoulders. he sticks his two long digits into your mouth to help with the pressure.

at his praise, and warm fingers gently weighing on your tongue, the pressure in your stomach snaps, and your orgasm rips through.

at the sight of you riding out your orgasm, and the feel of your warm cum coating his thigh, his cock twitches in his pants and he cums, shooting thick ropes of white cum in his black calvin cleins.

he groans softly, still caressing your thigh, gently squeezing the flesh.

after a few moments of silence, he speaks. "you good baby?"

you continue to pant softly, mumbling out a soft "mhm"

he nods, and turns off his gaming device, and scooping you up in his arms. he carries you over to his bed and you two cuddle for the night <3

[bernardsbendystraws]

It’s not unusual for Matt to stream. Typically, you’ll lay on the bed, out of view. You don’t like to be analyzed by his fans watching. It’s a lot of pressure. Matt is more than happy to respect this boundary even though there’s times when he just wants you to sit in his lap.

Tonight is different. He had already bitten his nails down to the nubs. He wants you. You’re scrolling on your phone, carefully keeping yourself out of the camera while you lay on the bed.

“Hold on, chat. I’m gonna put my camera off for a bit, something is glitching.” Matt’s words are followed by the sound of his fingers tapping a couple of keyboard buttons.

Using light steps, he crouches down to you, brushing your hair out of your face before gently placing a kiss on your forehead. “Will you…can you just—just come sit in my lap? Please?” he asks.

Your eyebrows furrow with confusion. Matt is quick to read your worries. “Camera is off, just….I just wanna hold you. Can I? Please, doll?” His question is sweet, overbearing with love. You let yourself nod, stretching out your arms as he picks you up—one of his favorite things to do.

Carrying you over to the chair, he lays you down gently in his lap, wrapping his arms around you to hold the controller.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispers, careful not to be loud enough for the mic to pick up.

You feel his warmth radiate onto you. Every once in a while, he’ll let his lips place a gentle kiss on your neck. He knows better than to shower you with kisses, knowing it would be too loud. But, the gleam in his eyes basically covers in your skin in affection. This is something so quiet—so peaceful. He’s not making you uncomfortable at all. In fact, your body feels like it’s floating.

And it’s all because of him.

[urcoolgf]

rafe pinning reader to a table, him inbetween her legs while licking, sucking, and eating her chest while he grinds his chest and abs on her pussy and her not being able to do anything

the way this request was just so straightforward made me giggle, but ask and you shall receive.ᐟ i hope i did it justice :) p.s. no pics for this one because i honestly couldn’t be bothered to find any…

SIT PRETTY

pairing: bf¡rafe && reader

content: 18+. smut (no actual sex, but ya know), basically every thing in the request (&& squirting). language.

you didn’t know what had gotten into rafe today, but he was… exceptionally horny? he had been on you all day—moving you into his lap on the couch, wrapping his arms around you from behind when you were making lunch, touching, grabbing. anything he could do to have his hands on you, he had done it.

you drove him crazy. you didn’t even need to do anything to turn him on, and somehow that made it even sexier. you pranced around in one of his too big t-shirts and your panties—he was losing his mind. the worst part? you were acting like nothing was out of the ordinary; making lunch, watching tv, you even did some laundry. at one point you fell asleep on the couch with your head on his lap, and he was fighting every urge to touch you everywhere while your steady breaths infiltrated his ears.

once you woke up, rafe’s lap was no longer beneath you—your favorite pillow taking its place.

“rafe?,” you called out to him, lifting yourself from the couch to find him. you knew he had been extra needy today, and you knew you had basically tortured him by ignoring the obvious, but you couldn’t help but play with him—just a little.

he didn’t respond, despite being in the next room over—the kitchen—you found him leaning against the corner where the countertops met, nail in his mouth as if he was deep in thought. his sweatpants hung low on his waist, and his abs were on full display—you almost lost your train of thought, but you were able to gather your words.

“hey, baby… somethin’ wrong?,” you asked quietly, walking up to stand in front of him, your arms crossed in front of your chest, only forcing your tits together. the crease in the fabric had rafe’s head spinning. he didn’t know why he was so damn insane today, but you were not making it easy on him.

“no,” was the only thing he said before grabbing your hips, spinning you around so that you were in his previous position—pinned into the corner. you couldn’t move from his grasp, and you were trapped by his body.

“ray… what’re yo–,”

“cut it out, y/n. you’ve been teasin’ me all fuckin’ day. thought i would just let it happen? you’re in f’r a rude awakenin’, doll,” his voice was low—half taunting, half desperate.

you knew you had been hard on him today, so you decided to just let it happen. what ‘it’ was… you didn’t know yet, but you had already decided you would let him do whatever he wanted. he deserved it, and it’s not like you weren’t just a little needy seeing him pining over you like this.

he stripped you of his shirt before you even knew what happened. his hands immediately moving up from your hips to the fat of your tits, squeezing them like his personal stress ball.

“fuck, baby. so fuckin’ perfect f’r me,” he mumbled under his breath. his full attention was directed at your chest, and the way you squirmed beneath his touch.

“ray…,” you moaned quietly, and it was like something snapped in him. he looked up at you through his eyelashes, a dark lust filling his blue eyes. your parted lips, and big doe eyes looking up at him had his primal instinct kicking in.

he picked you up, setting you on the cold marble, placing him between your legs. his erection was pressing against your core in a way that made your head spin. then, he instantly latched his mouth onto one of your nipples, playing with the other between his fingers. a loud moan escaped you from the unexpectedness of his actions.

he was lapping at your tit like a thirsty dog. wet, lewd noises echoed through the kitchen, and it only made you whimper more. you couldn’t do anything but sit there, and take it.

once he finished with one he moved to the other, giving the same love, now tugging at the other nipple. knowing the wetness underneath his touch was from his mouth had him embarrassingly turned on. he was grunting against your tits, the vibrations making you more sensitive.

you were trembling beneath him, and it was only slightly shameful how wet you were right now. your panties clung to your core as if you had just swam in them.

rafe detached from your chest momentarily, lifting your hips just enough to pull your panties down your legs.

“shit, doll.. you’re soaked,” his fingers played in your slick, running along your folds and you swore the breath was knocked straight from your lungs. he placed his hands under your thighs, bringing them high enough so your clit was rubbing against his abs. the sensation was heaven. the noises that left your mouth were out of your control at this point, you were at his full mercy.

“holy shit, rafe,” you moaned—loud. he was basically drooling over your sounds. his pants immeasurably tight against his crotch—he didn’t even care. he wanted to be all over you. he would crawl inside your skin, and live there if he could. his friends said he was obsessed… he disagreed. but, that’s because he knew it wasn’t obsession—it was something much stronger. he didn’t know what it was about you, but he craved you like nothing else, your scent alone was enough to get him off.

“just sit pretty f’r me, baby. be a good girl,” his hands held your legs in place as he latched back onto your tits. he left marks all over them, trailing from your collar bone down past your chest. they’d turn purple soon, and every time you looked in the mirror you would remember him—remember how they got there.

after sucking for awhile, he’d take a break, and lick stripes all over your upper body—his nose tickling its way up from your stomach to behind your ear, the warm sensation of his tongue following.

at some point rafe began to grind into you, his ab muscles flexing and un-flexing against your clit. it was too good—your vision was going white, eyes rolling so far back you were certain they would get stuck like that. there were so many sensations going on against your skin right now, you felt like you could explode at any given moment.

"rafe, shit– stop, stop– ‘m close,” you pleaded. not that you actually wanted him to stop, but you were basically convulsing beneath him, and getting off on his abs alone was shameful, dirty. he popped off your sore tit for a second to respond. they were all marked, and sensitive.

“‘m not stoppin’, doll. not ‘til you cum. cum for me, y/n. make a mess all over me, please– need it. need it s’bad,” his words became whines, and you had never been more turned on than in this moment right here.

rafe cameron was whining—begging you to cum on him.

you came undone with a shattered moan, his words giving you more pleasure than anything he was doing to your body. he didn’t stop though—not like he said he would. he went harder against you—with purpose that had you shaking beneath him. the overstimulation too much. his dick was so hard it hurt, but he paid it no mind. not when he had you like this—falling apart under his touch. he would never get used to the fact he could make such a goddess feel this way.

he kept going. his mouth roaming all over your chest, hands still holding your thighs, kneading the flesh between his fingers. before you could even think—not that you were really able to anyway—a new feeling washed over you. you used all your remaining strength to look down, only to find rafe’s chest and sweatpants drenched.

“damn, baby… who knew you were even more needy than me,” he laughed lowly before finally releasing you from his hold. he took a step back to survey the mess. he looked down at himself, taking in the wetness gleaming off his muscles, then looking up at you and your fucked-out state—your lips parted, breathing heavy, blown pupils, messy hair, and all his marks that painted your body.

“you’re so fuckin’ hot, holy shit,” he breathed out, “now c’mon, get on your knees. it’s my turn.”

an: i feel like my smut writing is so awkward for some reason—like it just doesn’t flow && lacks details… idk, so hopefully i can get better at it because it’s fun to write

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[eddiemunsonsmum]

Eddie loves morning sex. The kind of groggy, sloppy sex that comes with being half asleep. Both eyes closed, in an out of the dream realm. Sensation, the only thing in the room. No thoughts behind actions other than wanting to feel each other.

It starts with innocent shifting. Hands pulling and repositioning. His morning wood brushing up against your thigh in a way that feels so delicious to his sleep-addled mind. Hands go from pulling and shifting to grabbing and holding. He has handfuls of you and now he's grinding lazily against your core. Your hands are moving too because he's squeezing and moaning and he’s so hot in all the right places.

Before you know it, he’s pressing into you and you are so wet and ready for him. It doesn’t take long until he’s coming undone. His face hiding in your neck as he huffs and bucks against you at an uneven pace. His tip grinding against your insides and dragging you closer to release with every thrust. His thumb lazily circling your clit. Speeding up with his own stuttered movements as he hurdles towards climax. His hips stammering as he tries desperately to get you there before him but he’s sleepy and he's losing the battle.

A long, lazy moan emanates from somewhere deep inside your gut as you reach your peak. Floating along the rolling waves of pleasure and feeling Eddie falter.

He lets out a low groan that vibrates against your collarbone as he cums hard, burying himself to the hilt and trembling through his release. Your body milking him of every drop.

You're both still. Bodies humming with post sex hormones that help you drift back off to sleep. Waking up a few hours later after the best nap of your lives and wondering if it actually happened or if it was all a dream.

[fictionalmenxyn]

Snap stories from actress!reader with Drew

[27spoons]

yapping yapping to you dudeeee. have you seen how nat treated mari's brat ass (and some of shauna's, too)? i was like: panties? where? *inserts that meme of an emoji with a dangling lingerie* like, the way her care and natural protective instincts kick in, even though others might give two fucks about her 😭😭 my baby, come here, i'll take care of youuuuu imagining a brat!reader making nat's days a living hell, but she can't possibly lash out, so she puts reader into a time-out (house arrest tf), or even brings them their portion of the food into their hut, ending up in nat "teaching reader" how to behave 😇 yuk, an innocent lesson

what if i said i wanted to be put in my place. what then. what if i said i need to piss nat off until she snaps at me, realises that i liked it, and then does it again?

nsfw blurb / smut / gn!afab!reader / porn w some plot / self-indulgent / not proofread we die like the cabin at the end of s2/ wc: 1260

natalie stands outside your shelter, the fresh scent of damp earth and cool spring air brushing past. the spring out here is deceptive—warmer than the cruel winter was but still bitter in the mornings and evenings. the soft hum of insects punctuate the silence that settles in the dim light of the evening.

inside, you restlessly lay on your makeshift bedroll, leg bouncing as you trace the light strips that filter through the gaps in your structure with your eyes. when she finally steps in—carrying a wooden bowl of stew—you glance up with a cocky grin that you already know nat will not like.

"well, well." you drawl, sitting up. "The Queen herself. To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine evening?"

nat doesn't bite. she places the bowl on the tree stump in front of you unceremoniously. "dinner," she says simply, straightening and crossing her arms.

"wow, room service?" you let out a low whistle, leaning back and lacing your fingers behind your head. "i gotta say, i'm kinda liking this whole 'house arrest' thing, you know? the perks are nice." a beat, "actually, is it too much to ask, or could i get some dessert?"

her jaw clenches, but she manages to keep her voice in check. "you seriously think this is funny?"

"i mean... yeah." you shrug. "let's be real, nat. you're supposed to be running this place or whatever, but here you are, babysitting me." you groan and sit back up, "doesn't really scream..." a beat as you feign thought, "fearsome leader, you know?"

nat's eyes narrow, and you swear you can feel the frustration radiating off of her. the distant sounds of the wilderness around you seems to grow at the sudden tension, filling the space between you two. "you really wanna test how far i'll go?"

your grin falters slightly, but you can't deny the subtle rush that builds inside of you at the way her voice lowers. "what are you gonna do? give me another stern talking-to?"

she steps closer, her worn combat boots crunching against the forest floor. she leans down just enough to meet your gaze, her voice shifting to that tone she knows gets you weak. “no. talking doesn’t seem to work with you.”

before you can fire back a retort, she's grabbing your jaw with her right hand and squeezing. "you aren't leaving this hut until i say so, and honestly?" her voice lowers further, "i don't think you deserve to leave after all this shit you've pulled, do you?"

you stare up at her, unsure if you're supposed to be feeling afraid, aroused, or both."uh…" you blink a few times, "wow, nat. you really got the whole… 'scary leader' thing down. i'm shaking in my boots."

a scoff leaves her lips, but she doesn't visibly react further to your sarcasm. "you can joke all you want, yeah? but we both know you'll listen to what i say. because if you don't…" her eyes flash down to your lips for a moment, "well, they don't last very long."

your stomach twists, but not because you're scared. well, maybe a little. but mostly? well, mostly you're just aroused.

and nat knows, if the way she smirks is any indication. "yeah. you know that, don't you?" her voice carries a teasing lilt that does unpleasant (but not unwelcome) things to your insides. "all you really want is to be put in your place." she grips your jaw a little tighter, "open your mouth more."

you do. your lips part on command, and you're rewarded with nat spitting into your mouth slowly. "close. don't swallow." you do as she asks, of course. there's no way she doesn't know you're ruining your underwear right about now. 

you swear you haven't taken a breath in a million years as she looks down at you, eyes sharp and calculating. "good. swallow." you comply, maintaining eye contact, then open your mouth to show her that you listen.

nat grins. "look at you. you can listen." 

she gives you a firm shove back onto your bedroll and follows you down. "but i think i still need to prove my point." 

one of her hands slides underneath the waistband to your pants without hesitation, and it takes everything in her to not make a sound of satisfaction at how wet you are already. "jesus. already?" she manages, the words almost coming out in a whine and breaking this facade of control. "you're fucking soaked."

"can't help it." you reply immediately, already feeling the fight in you leave the second she gets her hands on you, "it's you. you do this to me." you're already clenching around nothing, staring up at nat's form over your body with an expression of pure want. "please."

the girl almost scoffs at how quick you get to begging, considering it usually takes far longer to break you down. "damn. that was fast. you a little desperate?"

"fuck you—" you try and start, but your protests are quickly cut off with a sudden push of her forefinger into your cunt. "oh—"

"that's what i thought." she grins, starting to move her finger without giving you time to get used to the intrusion. "all talk and no game, yeah? not so big once someone actually starts taking charge."

your fingers dig into the soil around your bedroll, knowing better than to grab onto her right now. "that's not fair—"

another finger. "nothing is fucking fair." she bites, leaning down closer to your face, "we're trapped in the middle of goddamn nowhere, and you're talking to me about fair?" a harsh scoff leaves her lips as she begins pumping her fingers faster, "life isn't fucking fair."

you'd make a smart reply to that if you could, but it's sort of hard to do when her fingers are ruthlessly fucking in and out of you, your wetness soaking into the fabric of your underwear. "already so worked up." she tsks, "bet i could give you a third finger right now and you'd—" 

she does.

three fingers deep, fingers curling in and out of your pussy with a passion that only nat can possess, you groan and throw your head back. 

nat slaps her free hand over your mouth with a hiss, "jesus! do you want them to hear what's going on in here?" her fingers never cease in their actions as her gaze flicks to the entrance for a moment, watching to make sure no one is about to walk in on you two. "shit, i would never hear the end of this…" she murmurs before returning her gaze to you, hardening it slightly. "should have known you wouldn't be able to keep quiet." 

she grinds her palm against your clit with every crook of her fingers, and you can barely keep your eyes open at the harsh movements she fucks you with—pain and pleasure blurring together somewhere along the way. 

her breath ghosts over your ear as she leans down, and you can feel her smirk. "you're gonna come for me, and when you do, it's gonna happen again." you whine, and she chuckles lowly in response. "and again. until i fucking decide that you've finally understood how to listen to fucking orders."you stare up at her with wide eyes when she pulls her face back slightly, and nat's grin only widens further. "and we both know you have a hard time following orders." her fingers find that one spot, and you swear you see stars—"so i think it's gonna be a long night."

[sassatoru]

"You mad? Wanna sit on my face?" With jason todd....

warnings. read the prompt from smut prompt list

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to piss you off, or if you were pissed at him at all but damn was he going to use it to his advantage. Angry sex was always one of Jason’s favourites, but usually it was him that was angry so this was a little happy twist. Maybe he could get you to take it out on him.

“Hi baby,” Jason grins smugly at you, tilting his head at you from the doorway. You merely huffed in response to him, clearly not in the mood as he lifts you up like a cat to sit you on his lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you grumble.

“Tired?” He asks, nuzzling into your neck. “Something else?” His hand runs down your tummy, “you mad?”

He doesn’t stop there, as he tugs your pants open. “Wanna sit on my face?”

You do, just to wipe that smug look off his stupidly perfect face. So instead of responding you push him onto his back, your lips meeting his when you press yourself down on top of him.

Jason groans when you do, nearly whining when you shed yourself of you clothes. And he just stares up at you like you’re his goddess with the most perfect body he could ever wish for. His hands immediately move to your breast once they’re freed, pinching your nipples much to your pleasure.

His eyes drop as you shed your panties, mouth watering as you push his hands away, moving yourself to hover over his face.

He doesn’t wait a second longer before he’s dragging you down to sit on his face, mouth opening to taste you. He groans as the taste of you, sweet and a little bitter just the way he loves you. His tongue drags up, through your folds and he groans when you whine softly into the quiet room.

Your fingers slip into his hair, gripping tightly as you use him to get off. Honestly this had to be one of Jason’s dreams, you using him to get what you want, to take your frustrations out on him.

“Just like that baby,” you whisper when he grips your thighs and presses his face into your pussy further.

He could die here, he thinks, happily right where he belongs under you.

Jason whines now, helplessly and pathetically when you roll your hips, clit bumping against his nose as you grind down trying to stimulate your pretty little bud.

When he realises he not getting you there all the way, his lips latch onto your clit to suck and he groans when your hips move erratically and your grip on his hair tightens.

He’ll get you there, as many times as it takes for you to let your anger out.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[stevesgother]

constantly thinking about how steve was alone in the back of the ambulance at the end of season 3 watching everyone else reunite with their families

baby boy needs a hug

STOP it. i will throw up.

his sailor's uniform that was once so cheesy and endearing is covered in blood and sweat and vomit; his left eye so swollen that he can barely see out of it.

he can't find his car keys, so he's kind of resigned himself to walking all the way from the mall with a definite concussion and probably at least one broken rib. every intake of breath hurts.

and you spot him from over your mother's shoulder, though you're not sure what to say. what could you possibly say to console anyone who just went through what the whole of you went through?

you can barely get your mom to release you from her iron-clad grip long enough for you to go see if he needs anything. a ride home or a hug or a joint. something.

he's the only person here who doesn't have a mother holding him in her arms. the EMT's have even stopped paying attention to him. there's no reason for him to still be sitting there-- wrapped in that tinfoil blanket-- and yet, he hasn't left.

steve offers you a weak, barely there smile that doesn't reach anywhere near his eyes when he spots you approaching. his grins usually incite the cutest crow's feet by his eyes, smile lines adjacent to his lips. but not tonight.

"hey," he whispers when you reach him

"hey," you whisper back, "what did they say about your--" you gesture around your head, your torso.

"pretty gnarly concussion," he tries to play off, "bruised...everything else," he chuckles but it's so obviously not funny. you don't even crack a smile.

"steve..."

"listen, um," he clears his throat, "this is so--lame, god-- but could i maybe crash at your place tonight? i swear, i'll go home in the morning--"

"steve--" you take a microscopic step forward, hesitant to touch him, to comfort him, but aching to. "of course you can. you can stay as long as you need to. c'mon," you settle on offering him a hand to help pull himself up. at least that could be played off as simply friendly-- if either of you are capable of remembering this night years from now.

steve takes it, his hand clammy and blood-streaked in yours. you hope you won't have to do much convincing for your parents to let a boy stay over, given the circumstances.

"mom, this is steve. he needs somewhere to stay tonight--"

you aren't even able to finish your sentence before your mother, ever the caretaker, interrupts you, "of course, sweetheart. oh, you poor thing." you're not entirely sure whether she's referring to you or steve. maybe both.

after refusing your mother's several offers to swing by his house on loch nora to grab a change of clothes, she finally accepts and lets him borrow a pair of your father's sweats and a t-shirt. he's settled into the pullout couch in the basement.

"um, if you need anything, my room is the first door on the right upstairs."

he nods, you can tell it hurts him to do so, "thanks. and thanks for letting me stay, you didn't have to--"

"don't." you tell him firmly, "you shouldn't have to be alone."

you're unsure what time it was-- having never checked your alarm clock-- when steve trudged his way up to what he really hoped was your bedroom door, nudging it with his foot. you were still awake to no one's surprise, staring blankly at your ceiling fan as it spun in an endless, hypnotizing circle-- it's only job in life. how enviable.

you let steve crawl into your bed beside you after he'd confessed he couldn't fall asleep downstairs. mindful of his injuries, you pet his hair, smoothing it away from his face as you did. you hugged him close to you after that, rubbing soothing circles into the tense muscles of his back. you were acutely aware of his shoulders shaking at one point, a wet patch on the shoulder of your sleep shirt where his head rested. you wondered when the last time that anyone held him was. you didn't call attention to his obvious weeping.

"you're safe, steve. you can rest now." you whispered softly into the shell of his ear.

his nod was nearly imperceptible, but he did sleep that night. and even despite the circumstances, better than he had in a long, long time.

[enwoso]

how convenient | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist | if you haven’t already i would recommend reading first heartbreak to get up to speed

the sidelines of the pitch buzzed with the usual saturday morning chaos — parent's chatting, children chasing stray footballs as whistles blowed too often and not enough. but leah had stood still, arms folded across her chest. her eyes locked on the man across the field.

harrison.

it was almost poetic, convenient if you will, even if it didn't make her stomach twist that the next time she saw him would be here.

at your football game. the one he was meant to show up for last time. the one he'd promised. the one he then conveniently forgot.

leah could still hear alessia's voice over the phone, quiet and tired as she'd spent the entire evening calming you down as the tried her best to stay calm over the phone as she retold the story to leah. 'she asked me if he even loved her, le.'

and that was it. that was the line.

you deserved a hell of a lot better than a broken promise with whiskey on its breath.

so leah waited, watching your entire game. you playing with that familiar fierce focus which had been missing the previous week as your blonde curls bounced as you ran for the ball. but something in your movement lacked the usual sparkle — it hadn't properly returned since that weekend.

when harrison finally wandered to the edge of the field, the game now finished. he’d been there since the 14th minute — leah had been watching.

a coffee cup in one of his hands, phone in the other, looking more like he'd stumbled out of bed then just stepped into fatherhood afterwards.

leah didn't hesitate after making sure that both alessia and you were occupied and distracted. you running circles with your teammates as alessia spoke to some of their parents, engrossed in a deep conversation. so you both wouldn't see what leah was up to.

"didn't think you had it in you to show up this time," she said, quiet but cutting sharp.

harrison blinked, startled, then smirked faintly, "leah. thought i might run into you today."

"lucky me."

he sipped his coffee looking out to the field, avoiding eye contact with leah. "so i take it less has sent you over here to lecture me then?"

"no, she doesn't even know i'm over here talking to you. i'm just here to watch the kid, who actually showed up."

his jaw twitched slightly, "look, i know i messed up. i didn't mean to forget - i had a lot going on that day."

leah raising an eyebrow humming slightly at his well, pathetic words, "enough going on that you forget your own daughters name?"

he flinched, taking another sip from his coffee. a beat of silence falling over the two as they both looked over the field, arms leaning against the barrier.

"i said i was hungover. i didn't mean it. i was half asleep, and—"

"—and yet you still found time to answer a phone you didn't remember promising her on."

there was another beat of silence, for a second too long, and then his face hardened.

"you don't know what it's like," he muttered, jaw clenched. "you don't know me, you don't know what i've got going on. what we had, how hard it was. you think because you're playing happy families with my ex and my kid, you know everything?"

leah took one step closer, her voice dropping into steel. "i know enough."

he just scoffed, amused almost as a smirk appeared on his face. "no, mate you know alessia's version. that's it."

"no, mate. i know a hell of a lot more than you." that stopped him in his tracks.

"i know how before she goes to bed she has to say goodnight to all of her teddy’s so that they don’t go to sleep sad. i know how she still draws you in every picture she makes cause she doesn't want to hurt your feelings. i know how hard alessia fights not to to bad-mouth you in front of her - no matter how angry she is with you. i know what it looks like when a little girl asks if her dad really loves her—and means it."

harrison looked away. he didn't say anything. he didn't have anything to defend him self with.

"you think this is about you and alessia? this isn't about who's in her bed now." leah added her voice quieter now, but somehow more dangerous. "it's not. it's about that little girl you keep letting down. and if you're not going to be a dad and a proper one at that then don't expect the world to wait while you try and figure out how."

for a moment, the only sound was the distant sound of children giggling and parents chatting as the field started to get less busier of people, the morning of football starting to slow down.

then—

"she's my daughter" harrison said, but it didn't sound as strong as convincing as he wanted it to.

"your right she is, so start fucking acting like it" leah replied, snappy and sharp as if she had a response to every thing he said. "because she deserves better and she not going to keep giving you pieces of herself for you to just drop every time it's convenient for you."

leah turned without waiting for a reply, she didn't want to listen to his pathetic voice any longer. she'd heard enough and said what she wanted to say.

watching as the group of parents surrounding alessia's was getting smaller, as she jogged to catch up with you two. alessia looked over her shoulder, sensing leah's presence. "you all good?"

leah reached for alessia's hand, slipping her fingers effortlessly between hers with ease, "yeah, just had something to take care of."

alessia raised an eyebrow, curious but also didn't push. instead making a mental note to ask later on. "that right?"

"yep, all sorted though. don't worry, love"

you rushed back to leah and alessia having said goodbye to your friends, as you were already mid-sentence. "did you see when i almost scored mama? i kicked it so hard!"

leah grinned, the tension easing from her shoulders just at the sound of your voice as she ruffled your hair, "i saw, you were brilliant today, you little superstar!"

and as the three of them walked off the field, you chattering away, alessia leaning in close as leah anchored them to her side — harrison being left stood alone in his own thoughts by the sideline .

watching what it looked like when someone actually showed up.