#this is the last I’ll pay attention to this until I get into the later seasons because I feel like I’m missing so much context

[inact-ice]

henren are still together but most of their plots are about their kids or issues in their marriage. They did have the set up for an interesting plot involving a corrupt public official in season 8 but the show resolved it in a single episode. There problem is there's one other gay man on the show, Josh, but he doesn't get relationships or even much focus outside of his work so Tommy being written out is pretty much the death of rep for gay men who started the show because of bucktommy and because they saw themselves in Tommy.

Idk this is kind of weird to me, I’m a black nonbinary bisexual person, and there’s not a single black nonbinary bi person in the show (as far as I know idk again I’m only on the beginning of season 2). And I’m really happy with the queer representation on 9-1-1 for the most part? Even w/ the henren cheating arc (ugh) and even though I can’t 100% relate to any of the queer experiences on the show, a show having a main couple that’s unapologetically black and Lesbian, is still representation for the community and the loss of 1 gay white man doesn’t mean that we’re losing representation in my opinion.

Though again, I haven’t met Tommy yet so idk, maybe he’s way better written than Hen or Karen. Also, I feel like all of the couples on the show have had marriage or kid issues? Maybe that’s all HenRen becomes, but if that’s the case, why are people less angry about that than Tommy leaving? If 9-1-1 is fumbling this badly with like the only black lesbian couple as main characters representation on network tv, that’s kind of a big deal.

Idk I was just kinda side eyeing some of the comments I saw like this, it feels like people are saying that Tommy is more important and better representation than HenRen and it’s making all my fandom racism alarms go off, like again, maybe they totally fumble HenRen and Tommy is like a beautifully written gay character the likes of which we’ve never seen before, but the things people have been saying have been WEIRD!

Also I just met Josh! Does he really never get a boyfriend??? UGH! And I know Athena’s mean gay husband doesn’t show up in later seasons bc the actors anti mask allegedly too, so I do kinda understand the frustration! It’s just like, still weird. But when I get to season 8 in 2045 I’ll do like a whole fun analysis thing with bucktommy in mind.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view. 

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

[jockbroski34]

The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester.  Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore.  He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school.  Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was.  He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball.  He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys.  A lot of guys wished they could be him.  I, however, wanted to be with him.  Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind.  At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him.  Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle.  His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place.  His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school.  He didn’t come off like the rest of them though.  His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks.  He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked.  Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried.  It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin.  I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention.  It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating.  The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class.  Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him.  He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct!  I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled.  “You always look like you’re off in your own little world.  But you still manage to do well.  You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.”  Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies.  Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s.  He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed.  All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework.  He helped clarify things for me thankfully.  I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you?  That’s his hat, right?”  he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.”  It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today?  If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next.  I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.”  I don’t know why I said that.  We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were.  I’m also not on the baseball team.  Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom.  He was probably long gone anyways.  After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat.  I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used.  I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on.  Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again.  I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it.  It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s.  It’s not like he had lice or anything.  What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would.  Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped.  The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping.  The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened.  My watch skipped a tick.  But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked.  I had to admit, I looked really good in it.  I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league.  Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face.  A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me.  Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore.  I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra.  I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out.  I must’ve lost track of time.  As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason.  I never used to make much of an impression on most people.  I was quiet and had only a couple friends.  Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?”  the teacher remarked.  Very funny.  I always showed up on time.  I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right.  My body squeezed tight into the desk.  I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler.  Weird.  Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative.  I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering.  I still felt a couple of their eyes on me.  I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room.  She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends.  Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion.  She was cute, but definitely out of my league.  I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today.  Something must be wrong.  The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache.  I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne.  I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch.  I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food.  Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time.  But for some reason, I didn’t really want to?  That’s weird for me.  I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally.  Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name.  They were two jocks.  I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot.  What did they want?  I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind.  Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym.  Wanna come with?”  the other jock asked me.  Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious?  Did these jocks actually think I was one of them?  I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed.  Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys.  My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them.  For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time.  I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before.  They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends.  I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me.  Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks?  It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad.  Thought you were someone else.  He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank?  He obviously knew my number.  Of course he knows who I am.  Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks.  I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends.  You know, my real friends.  I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed.  Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein.  I swear I almost never eat this much.  The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself.  But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them?  I had class soon.  But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros.  I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them.  As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym.  I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts.  To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine.  I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift.  It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner.  By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class.  But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue.  There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron.  At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him.  Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself.  He could always just get another one, right?  I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear.  Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.  I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that.  I shrugged it off.  They can stare all they want for all I care.  I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen.  If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with.  But in such a short amount of time?  With no prior lifting experience?  That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today.  All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later?  I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period.  Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave.  I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who?  Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?”  he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy!  You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude.  Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro.  My bad.”  I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with.  But as I looked at him, I realized something.  He was wearing his hat!  But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it?  “I thought you lost your hat.  How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude.  One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do.  But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up.  You’ll impress the ladies.”  But I was gay.  And I’ve only had this hat for a day.  If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine?  I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other.  Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it because we were going to practice?  I’ve never played baseball in my life.  Nah, that can’t be right.  I feel like I’ve swung a bat before…  We went into the locker room to change.  I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there.  Someone else’s was.  Someone much stronger and much taller than me.  That wasn’t me.  It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match.  There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron.  This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall.  I walked closer.  “Aaron” walked closer.  I moved my hand to feel my face.  So did “Aaron”.  A dull, confused look appeared on his face.  Had I really become him?  But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing.  Then who am I?  Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier?  I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name.  That’s…Aaron’s?  Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married.  As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday.  I knew my birthday, and it was in January.  Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror.  It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream.  It was like I was his twin!  Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters.  At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed.  Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis.  I realized that this all started when I wore his hat.  I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder.  My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro?  Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me.  I think it runs in the blood, you know.  You like that, right?”  He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head.  I nodded.  I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection.  I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body.  At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin.  The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together.  This is all you ever wanted, right?”  He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him.  Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong.  But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro.  This shit’s the life, dude.”  I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that.  The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro.  I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood.  As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen…  I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back?  During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro.  I remember.”  But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right?  I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right?  One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game.  I’ve never been more proud of you bro.”  Aaron patted me on the back.  I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it.  That year, our baseball team was the best in the state.  And I…led our team to a championship?  As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real.  But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away.  Turns out that I was the brother he never had.  We were a pair.  We complemented each other perfectly.  I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school.  I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro?  That’s gay as shit.  And weird.  This was my own twin we were talking about.  Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too.  After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…”  Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro!  I was just saying how good your hat looks on you.  Come on, let’s go.”  I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother.  Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as.  Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock.  I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic.  Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree.  But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school.  I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this.  But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times.  I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again.  I remembered I kinda struggled with this class.  I sat behind my bro as usual.  I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework.  I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class.  When I asked him, he wouldn’t say.  It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me.  We practically knew everything about each other after all.  After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you.  Is everything alright?  Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro.  I think I was just up too late partying the other day.  And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.”  I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.”  Mr. Martin smiled.  “I won’t leave you too long.  I know you two have your hands full with practice today.  Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see.  It suits you well, Aiden.”  I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left.  Mr. Martin was always cool.  I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here.  I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what?  I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros.  I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways.  Probably nothing important.  As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school.  I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights.  All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift.  Must run in the blood.  After school, I went to practice with Aaron.  We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer.  We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition.  Man, this was the life.  I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

[willowsnook]

Devils Bachelor

Heyyy can I get roast beef and thousand island on sourdough? from @wusyanamegirlfriend

luke hughes x childhoodbsf!reader

I wanted it to be you

It was a warm late-spring day as you walked back from the grocery store, a quick stop after work to pick up ingredients for your usual Tuesday night with Luke. Tonight’s menu was a salmon Cobb salad you’d perfected last week. These evenings were the highlight of your week, and the fact that Luke always made time for you, despite his busy schedule, meant more than you could say.

You’d been best friends since childhood, but you assumed that life — especially his NHL career — might eventually pull you in different directions. Yet a year after he was drafted, he’d practically begged you to find work in New Jersey. You’d landed a position in a biology lab, and the rest was history.

Letting yourself in, you found Luke and his brother, Jack, locked in a chaotic video game match. Luke glanced over and flashed you his usual sweet smile.

“Staying for dinner, Jack?” you asked, unloading the groceries.

“If you’ll have me. Don’t want to intrude on date night,” he teased, laughing as Luke shoved him back onto the couch.

If only, you thought wistfully.

Dinner was filled with laughter and chatter about work, the boys listening intently as you shared your day.

“Has Luke told you about his new media obligation?” Jack asked, smirking.

“No, what is it?”

“They want me to be the ‘Devils Bachelor,’” Luke explained casually, rolling his eyes. “Basically, they’ll set me up with influencers and other women until I find ‘the one.’”

You froze, unable to keep the irritation from your voice. “Is that so?”

Jack snickered, but Luke, oblivious as always, simply nodded. “Yeah, actually. Do you think you could help me pick something to wear?” At this, Jack burst out laughing, and Luke shot him a confused look, “What?”

“Nothing, man,” Jack said, slapping him on the back and shooting you a wink.

Jack left after dinner, and you sat on the couch, half paying attention to the movie Luke had put on, swirling your wine in the glass mindlessly. 

“You okay?” Luke asked, watching you closely.

Forcing a smile, you nodded. “Just tired. I think I’ll head home.”

He frowned; you never left early on Tuesdays. Walking you to the door, he pulled you into a hug, his arms warm and familiar.

“See you later, yeah? I’ll have to tell you how the dates go.” Your heart ached, but you pushed it aside, knowing he truly was clueless.

“Great,” you mumbled, stepping away. You wished you could be brave enough to tell him how you felt — but vulnerability was hard.

-------------------------------

You tried to busy yourself the next day to avoid thinking about Luke going out with other girls, but it was hard. It had never really occurred to you that he goes on dates, as he hadn’t since he had lived here. The two of you were so domestic together that it literally felt like he was cheating on you even though he really wasn’t. 

Lost in thought, you nearly bumped into Jack, who was waiting outside of your building.

“Jack! What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use a drink,” he said, giving you a warm grin. You appreciated his care and agreed, following him to a quiet bar nearby.

Settling into a booth, you sipped your drink as Jack spoke. “I told him not to tell you about the dates,” he said, looking you in the eye.

You groaned. “He’s going to think something’s up!”

“Y/N, he already thinks something’s up,” Jack deadpanned, explaining that Luke was worried you were mad at him. “I told him it was ‘complicated,’” Jack added with a smirk.

“Jack…” you groaned, putting your head in your hands.

“Speak of the devil, he just texted me about the date.”

Your head snapped up, “what did he say?” 

“He said it went alright, but he was annoyed that the girl didn’t want to order two entrees and share both,” he read off, and you laughed. Luke always insisted that you do that when the two of you ate somewhere, but you didn’t mind. 

Jack smirked at you before typing something quickly. 

“What’d you say?”

“I said, ‘you mean like y/n does?’”

“Jack!” You hissed. Jack put his phone down and looked at you. 

“Why are we doing this y/n?” Why won’t you just tell him? He’s in love with you even if he doesn’t realize it,” Jack said softly and you sighed, looking away. 

“That’s the thing, even if it’s true and he doesn’t realize it, what would happen if I confessed?” 

“Maybe it would be the push he needs,” Jack countered and you smiled sadly. 

“I can’t risk our friendship on a maybe.” 

Luke’s POV

“What’s with you today?” Jack asked, watching Luke take a break from his set. They were at the training facility to get a workout in, but Luke had been off all morning.

“Y/N’s been avoiding me since last week,” he muttered. “She just won’t talk to me.”

Jack gave him an amused look, thinking about how literally anyone could put two and two together. Maybe he just needed a little push. 

“How are the dates going?” he asked, changing the subject.

Luke shrugged. “A waste of time, honestly. None of them are really meshing.” To Jack's clear amusement, he went on about one who didn’t like sports and another who had never heard of Happy Gilmore.

“So let me get this straight,” Jack said, barely holding back a laugh. “The reasons none of them worked were… they wouldn’t split food with you, didn’t like sports, or hadn’t seen Happy Gilmore? Unlike Y/N, who does all that?”

Luke’s brows knit together. “Huh… that is kinda weird.”

Jack threw his hands up. “I love you, man, but sometimes you are so clueless.”

-------------------------------------

After you had destroyed the Taco Bell you had ordered, you were just about to settle in and keep watching Drive to Survive when you heard banging on your door. You debated not answering, as it was 9pm and you were wearing sweats and just a sports bra, but this person persisted, so you got up. 

You sighed and opened it, expecting a neighbor. Instead, Luke stood there in a suit, looking a little disheveled.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and you stepped aside, letting him through.

He paced in your living room, running a hand through his curls. “You know where I’m supposed to be right now?” he asked, and you shook your head.

“I was supposed to be at that Italian place by the water. The big finale date for the whole ‘Bachelor’ thing.” He stopped, his gaze intense.

“Why aren’t you there?” you asked softly.

“I got there… and saw her waiting… and all I could think was how badly I wanted it to be you. I wanted to have dinner with you by the water, order shrimp scampi and lasagna, split both dishes. I wanted you there, telling me about some crazy future you put on the college football championship. I wanted you because you’re the one who gets me. I just… I just wanted it to be you.”

Luke’s breathing was heavy as he finished, and you stood there, speechless.

For a moment, you just stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. All the little moments between you two flashed through your mind—every Tuesday night dinner, every laugh, every secret look you’d tried to brush aside. You’d waited so long to hear these words, but now that they were out in the open, you felt almost paralyzed by the intensity of it.

Luke took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “I know I’m slow, okay? I know I’ve probably missed a thousand signs and chances. But standing there tonight… all I wanted was you.”

The vulnerability in his gaze melted any hesitation you still had. Gathering your courage, you took a breath and whispered, “It’s always been you, Luke. I just… I didn’t want to risk losing you if you didn’t feel the same.”

He reached out, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at your cheek. “I’d never let that happen. You’re my best friend. But more than that…” He trailed off, his thumb grazing your cheek. “You’re everything.”

With his face inches from yours, you could barely breathe, but your heart answered for you. You leaned up and closed the gap, feeling his lips meet yours in a soft, unhurried kiss that spoke of all the moments you’d both been too afraid to admit. It was warm, familiar, and electric all at once, as though something that had been waiting years to begin had finally, perfectly, fallen into place.

When you pulled back, he kept his forehead resting against yours, eyes closed as he took a steadying breath. A small, slightly nervous smile crept onto his face. “Guess we’re going to have to relabel Tuesday as the official date night, huh?”

[narrycherries]

✰ baby honey ✰ #8 (part 1)

(dom!harry)

Harry let’s you come to the office with him..

masterlist

word count: 6.4k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, dom!harry, daddy k!nk, praise k!nk, smut, oral m receiving

There was a bit of excitement brewing as you squeezed Harry’s hand in the elevator. He was checking the time on his watch, somewhat ignoring your happy mood and bright grin. He decided the night before that he would allow you to accompany him to his office. You had an appointment you needed to be taken to later on in the day, so he figured it would be more convenient to have you with him. You were definitely thrilled to be getting out of the house. It had been a while since you last came to the company’s building. Usually Harry was extremely busy and he couldn’t tend to you, so you prefer to just stay at home and be comfortable.

When the elevator door opened, your eyes lit up as you saw the familiar floor. You saw his assistant sitting at his desk, jotting down something as he spoke on the phone. You saw another person you recognized and gave them a gentle wave. Harry didn’t pay anyone any attention as he gripped your hand and guided you towards his office door.

You caught his glance as he opened the door for you and gestured you in. A whimper left your mouth as he released your hand. You twirled around to face him, reaching for his waist. He let you grab him, but he easily gave you a stern lift of his brows.

“Baby love, remember what we talked about? You have to behave today.”

You pouted your lips out. “I will, I promise.”

“That includes not being a distraction, doll.” He gently took hold of your wrists and pulled your hands off. “I’ll tend to you during lunch, okay?”

“Lunch?” You frowned. “That’s in four hours.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t start complaining, baby.”

“M’not complaining.”

Harry wasn’t in a very good mood, so he didn’t want to deal with your attitude. You rolled your eyes as he walked past you, not bothering to entertain your nonsense this morning. You watched as he sat down at his desk and immediately occupied himself with the computer. Despite being joyful about being out of the house, you knew there wasn’t much you could do here.

So, as usual, you found a spot on the leather couch placed against the wall and crossed your arms and legs. There was a throw blanket specifically there for you, but you didn’t grab it. Instead, you huffed and opted to fixate your stare on him. Harry was very serious about his work and he did not like to be interrupted or bothered while he was doing important business. You knew that all too well, yet you’ve tested your luck with him way more than just once.

His hair was perfectly sculpted and neat on his head. You chewed on your cheek as you thought about the quick orgasm you received before you got out of bed. Harry wanted to give you something to hold you over for the day. He was well aware that you got extra clingy and needy while you were with him in his office. It felt like he was teasing you by just sitting there and ignoring you - so close to you, but refusing to entertain your desires. That was a big reason why he preferred to not have you in the office. Not only was it torture for you, but he hated knowing you felt that way. It was easier to send you a text or a quick call to calm your nerves while he was working than it was to meet every one of your needs while together.

Even though you were gifted a treat this morning, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. His mouth sucking on your pussy, his tongue slurping around and poking into you, his cheeks hollowing around your clit. He gave you an incredible orgasm that made your entire body tingle. You didn’t notice your hand had fallen between your legs until there was a sudden blaring of the office phone ringing. You jerked your hand up and swallowed as you watched him talk on the phone. The words he was speaking didn’t make any sense to you. Your mind was so focused on his mouth that you couldn’t make out any sounds. His lips were moving, his tongue being exposed as he spoke, and his eyes had shifted up to meet yours.

After a few moments, he sat the phone down and licked his lips. “There’s donuts and stuff in the kitchen. Go get something to eat, love.”

“Okay.” You were a tad nervous, fearing you had been caught in your trance despite him not saying anything. He didn’t even notice. “Do you want something?”

“No, thanks.”

Your stomach did a flip as you realized he wasn’t standing up to join you. “You’re not coming with me?”

He smirked slightly and lifted a brow. “You know where to go.”

“Yeah, but..” Your voice trailed off while your eyes dropped to your feet.

“You’ll be alright, sugarplum. Go get something to eat, alright?”

It was disheartening to see his eyes move back to the computer monitor. You sucked on your cheek as you mustered up the courage to walk to the kitchen area by yourself. You knew the layout of this floor very well. There were the bathrooms, the storage rooms, the meeting rooms, Harry’s office, the kitchen style break room, and a few offices that belonged to Harry’s more important employees. You shook off the worry and made your way to the room. There were voices coming from the open door, and that made you somewhat nervous. The attempt to ignore those feelings was weak.

“Boss man is wanting this meeting to last a while.” One of the men said.

You slipped into the room and went to the counter. There was a spread of donuts, muffins, and fruit that were provided for breakfast. You gulped quietly as you grabbed a plate and began to scan over what you wanted to eat. You couldn’t help but to hear the conversation between the two men sitting at the small table drinking coffee. You recognized one of them as the chief marketing officer for Harry’s company, the other you weren’t sure of.

“He’s got plans for an expansion.”

The man you knew sighed. “He’s got big ambitions but he knows what’s right.”

“Oh, it’ll be worth it for sure, just a shit ton of work and headaches to get there.”

You chose to ignore the men as they began talking about business. Instead, your attention returned to the selection of donuts. You saw regular glazed, chocolate icing, some with sprinkles, and what appeared to be caramel coated. You smiled to yourself as you picked out a glazed and a chocolate one for yourself, then grabbed a caramel for Harry. Despite him saying he didn’t want anything, you wanted him to eat breakfast.

Harry’s eyes flicked to the door as you returned, the plate of donuts balancing on your palm. Your gaze locked on his while you crossed the room. He gently tilted his head back as you stopped in front of his desk. You sat the plate down and carefully laid out the single napkin you brought. He was intrigued by your quiet movements, not quite sure what you were up, to if anything.

When you placed the caramel donut on the napkin, you moved your eyes back to his and gave him a cute smile.

“I got this for you.”

“Thank you, sweetness. But I already ate.” A smirk toyed on his pink lips.

Blush rose to your cheeks as you playfully rolled your eyes. Just minutes ago you were replaying that event in your head.

“You need actual food.”

“Hmm.” His response was light.

It was difficult to think about anything other than him right now, but you were trying to keep your thoughts under control. Your goal today was to behave and not receive any sort of punishment. Harry watched as your eyes trailed down to the desk, you seemed out of it. He thought maybe you were just tired. A sigh pushed past his lips and he slid his chair backwards. You looked up and caught his eyes instantly.

“C’mere.” He motioned for you with a pat to his thigh.

A flutter erupted in your stomach as you sat down on his legs, his strong arm wrapping around you. There was a rule that was very clear and simple - don’t bother him while he’s working. He would give you attention when he had the time. Perhaps this was his way of easing the tension. It was clear that you were distracted by your mind, and he assumed he was the reason.

“I want you to be on your best behavior today, alright?” He said as he moved his palm up to cover your jaw.

You coiled your fingers around his wrist and nodded. “I know. I will.”

“Do good for me and I’ll make sure you get all the attention you want when we get home, baby.”

“Promise I’ll be good.”

He smirked, his lips placing a kiss to yours. “M’sure you will be, kitten.”

You almost weren’t fully aware of what was going on. Your eyes fell to his neck and you bit down on your bottom lip. Harry’s thumb rubbed over your skin, but you weren’t focusing on that.

“What’s the matter, baby doll?” His warm voice was deep and slow.

When you shook your head, he didn’t accept that as an answer. He squeezed your hip and moved his hand to the side of your neck. Your skin was hot and flushed, he noticed easily.

“Baby love, answer me.”

Your eyes darted to his as those specific words left his mouth. He knew that would get your attention. You shrugged while your fingers fell down his forearm, rubbing over his elbow before you let him go.

“It’s.. almost nine.. you have to start working.”

Harry was aware of the time. “I know.”

You pouted your lips out. “Just.. just don’t want to.. get in trouble.. by distracting you.”

“I asked you to come sit, didn’t I?”

For a second, you thought there was a trace of annoyance in his voice - but you were incorrect and simply just nervous. He licked his lips and let his hand glide up your waist.

“Yes.”

He gave you a smile. “Then you aren’t going to be in trouble, darling.”

“I.. I should leave you.. alone.”

Harry grunted when you moved to get up, he stopped you. “Baby, you’re fine. Nothing’s wrong, okay?”

You shook your head. “I.. I don’t want to get-“

He guided your head forward so that his lips could gently kiss the corner of your mouth, bringing you to silence. A whimper came from your mouth as he pecked your lips a couple of times, trying his best to make you calm down.

Before you could process it, his lips were moving in sync with yours and his tongue was flicking around in your mouth. You started to feel extremely greedy, but not for anything more intimate than this. You wanted to make sure he knew he was yours, you never wanted to let him go.

One set of your nails sunk into his nape while the other scratched through his scalp. The kiss became sloppy as it normally did, with spit slipping out of your mouths and smearing on your skin. You couldn’t focus on his crotch, you were too deep in your thoughts and this kiss. He was growing underneath you, but he knew he needed to refrain himself.

The phone began to ring yet again, breaking up the moment. Harry groaned and pulled his mouth from yours. You frowned, but knew you had no choice. He slid the chair up and leaned forward to grab the phone, all while his arm kept a tight grip on your body.

“Hello?”

You could hear a muffled voice but had no desire to know what was being said. If it was the office phone, that meant it was work related. Instead, you furrowed your brows to yourself as you attempted to piece his hair back together. You didn’t destroy it completely, but there were noticeable differences. His eyes were on you as you did so, wishing he could return to your lips but knowing he won’t be able to.

“Yeah, nine fifteen works. I’ll send the file in a minute.”

The mention of the time made your heart sink. If he was scheduling a time that meant he most likely had a meeting. Your hand dropped down his chest, slowing pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt. He kept talking, which allotted you time to just look over the details.

His collar wasn’t buttoned at the very top. He hated wearing ties and opted for this look. His long sleeves were neatly folded up to his elbows, it was too warm to be wearing them how they are meant to be worn. You admired the way the light blue pigment of the shirt looked against his tan skin. You wish you could see his arms fully, have them wrapped around you as he pounded you. You squeezed your eyes shut and pushed out the thought. You didn’t need to let yourself fall into a pit you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Alright, thank you.” Harry said and sighed as he put the phone down.

“Guess I.. have to find something to do.” You mumbled quietly, toying with one the buttons on his shirt.

“Be a good girl for me, alright? I have a meeting soon.”

Your frown dropped lower. “Didn’t know you had one this early.”

You could feel his stare on you, watching you closely, but you never moved your eyes back up. He patted his hand gently on your hip, wanting to get your attention but it failed.

“I had a reschedule. I’ll give you some time when it’s over, alright?”

“Time?”

He smiled even though you weren’t looking. “We’ll see what I can do, alright? Might not be much.. but enough to hold you over.”

You nodded lightly and sighed, knowing this time with him was about to end. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words easily fell from your lips. You shifted your head and finally met his intense gaze. “I’ll be good.”

He chuckled. “I hope so, kitten.”

While Harry was attending his meeting, you occupied yourself with the few games on your phone. You weren’t thrilled to be in his office alone, but you had no option. You could explore the building if you wanted to, but Harry knew you would be too nervous to be alone. So you stayed put on the couch and tried to pass the time. If he were in the room, you could just stare at him and let that be your distraction.

You weren’t sure of how long you had been sitting there when the door opened. You almost jumped up to greet him, but thankfully didn’t as you saw two men following behind him. He was talking to them, but he paid you a quick glance. You considered asking if you needed to step out, but you knew he wouldn’t make you.

The men sat down in the two chairs placed in front of the big desk. You frowned as you realized they would be staying in the room. All you could think about was the “time” Harry promised you. These men were ruining that. As much as he wanted to tell you he’d tend to you soon, he couldn’t right now.

You waited patiently for an additional thirty minutes. Harry was talking back and forth with the men, carrying their meeting topic into the office. You glued your eyes to the screen of your phone and tried to stay focused on the game. It was hard to be fully detached when you could hear his voice. Most of the time, he’s not talking unless he’s on the phone so you can easily distract yourself.

Eventually, the two men stood up and headed towards the door. Harry didn’t follow them, his eyes were on the computer as he typed an email. You smiled to yourself as the door shut and you were finally alone. Harry’s brows were set low as he typed. You stayed still and waited for him. To your dismay, he grabbed a stack of papers off his desk and went towards the door. His eyes never looked your way. Your smile dropped to a frown as he left the office.

Although you were on his mind, he was extremely busy. The promise of giving you some time had slipped his mind and unfortunately for you, it wouldn’t return any time soon. He was carrying the stack of papers to someone because he was too impatient to wait on them to get them from his office. This work had to get done this week so he wasn’t wasting any time. He stopped by the coffee maker to fix him a cup, forgetting to do so before he came back from the meeting earlier.

You were becoming agitated while waiting in his office. You were lying on your side now, facing the room with the blanket draped over your body. You weren’t cold, but you craved his warmth and that was the best you could do. He was gone for nearly ten minutes, and you thought it would never end. The door opened and you swallowed gently, not sure what to expect. Would he ignore you again or would he spare you a few moments? Sadly, he didn’t even turn his head in your direction. He sat down at the desk and immediately started typing on the keyboard.

A frustrated sigh left your mouth, but Harry was so focused that he didn’t even notice. You closed your eyes and tried your best to fall asleep. You weren’t tired but you figured the boredom would make you sleep.

Luckily for you, it did. It was nearing lunch when Harry shut his office door yet again. The loud noise made you flinch in your sleep, a moment later your eyelids peeled back. It was almost a jumpscare to see him walking towards you, a smile placed on his pink lips.

“Hey, baby.” He said as he gestured for you to sit up.

The blanket fell from your body as you moved. “Hi.”

He chuckled at your cute voice and messy hair. He knew you had been asleep the whole time and when you would toss onto your other side, he’d glance your way to check on you.

“Is it time to go?” You asked, sort of confused on the time.

You reached for his hand and he gladly let you take it. He smiled and gave you a gentle shake of his head. He squatted down in front of you, his other hand grabbing your thigh.

“It’s almost time for lunch, darling. What would you like, hm?”

You shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He lifted his brows and squeezed your fingers. “Decide, alright? I’ll order it after I handle this email.”

“Wait!” You chirped as he stood up, trying to slip his hand from yours.

“What is it?”

“Don’t.. don’t go.” You muttered quietly, your eyes dropping down to stare at your joined hands.

Harry lightly sighed and reached for your jaw. He angled your head back, his eyes meeting yours. You pouted your lips out in attempt to get what you wanted, but he didn’t fall for it.

“Babe, I have to do this real quick. I’ll come sit with you in a few minutes, okay?”

You were going to protest again, but a thought shot to the top of your mind. “What.. what about giving me some time? Will you ever?”

He smirked, amused by the obvious irritation you were trying to hide. “I will after we order lunch, alright?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“You’ve been super busy all day.” You reminded him.

Harry licked his lips and smiled. “I’m at work, love. That’s how it is.”

Since you didn’t respond to him, you let him slip away to his desk. He told you to figure out what you wanted so he could order it. After a few minutes of thinking, you decided on what you felt like eating and told him what you wanted. He did the whole ordering process and scheduled it for delivery. You were glad he didn’t want to go out to get lunch like he did most of the time when you were at the office.

“Well, that’ll be here in forty five minutes.” Harry sighed out as he stood from his desk and started the journey to you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him undo two more of his buttons. His eyes were on his shirt as he walked towards you. When he lifted his gaze, he laughed as he saw you practically bouncing on the cushion.

“What’s up with you, missy?” He said through his smirk as he extended his hand to you.

You gave it a hard tug, trying to pull him down. He was too strong to move though. He didn’t make you wait any longer. You squealed as he sat down next to you, his big hands grabbing onto your body. You giggled as he wrestled with you, dragging your body on his lap.

“You made me wait long enough.” You smiled as you grabbed either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours.

He let out a moan as you settled over his crotch and swiped your tongue through his mouth. It was obvious that you were eager and ready for whatever he was going to do. He kissed you for a minute, just soaking in the taste of your mouth and the smearing of your tongue against his. Work was entirely too stressful for him today and he needed this. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

You groaned when he pulled away from your lips. “No, more.” A soft whine fell from your mouth.

He chuckled and lifted a hand to run through your hair, pushing it back from your face. “What do you want to do, hm? I’m letting you decide.”

Your lips puckered as you thought about the different things you could do in the short time. As much as you wanted to do absolutely everything with him, you knew it was unrealistic. You were working with borrowed time, so you had to make your decision quickly.

“Want to use my mouth on you.” You said sweetly, a smile shaping to your lips.

He grinned back, somewhat surprised by your request. He figured you’d want him to focus entirely on your pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, wishing there were no barriers blocking him from your skin.

“That’s all, baby? Don’t want me to eat you out or use my fingers, hm?” He asked with a lift of his brow.

You shook your head, fingers playing at the back of his head. “You gave me something this morning.. I want you this time.”

He lifted his arm so he could check the time on his watch. “A forty minute blow job, darling? Is that all you want?”

“No. That’s just the first thing.” You smirked back as you slid off his lap and dropped to your knees on the floor. You were grateful for the thick rug that laid in front of the couch. As much as you loved doing this to him, it was rough on your knees at times. “Want you to fuck me after.”

Your casual words made him laugh and shake his head in disbelief. He gave you a smile as a response, you already knew he wouldn’t deny you of what you asked for so there was no point in having to verbally tell you. He licked his lips and grunted as you tore his belt from its buckle and undone his pants. You wished you could see him completely bare, but he wasn’t going to do that in the office. He never had and today wouldn’t be any different.

Harry kept his stare fixated on you while you reached into his briefs and pulled his length out. You were pleased to see that it was already rock hard for you. He let out a light moan as you gripped the base, but you stopped before you did anything. You shifted your eyes to his and frowned slightly. He lifted his hips off the couch and tugged his pants down to his knees. It was much easier for you to access what you wanted, and much more comfortable for you both. You smiled when he relaxed back against the plush leather and gave you a nod, instructing you to carry on.

“So pretty when you got y’hands on my cock, baby girl.” He said through a sigh as you started to pump him.

His words made butterflies pop up in your stomach. You used your hand for a little bit before becoming impatient with yourself. You leaned up, one hand bracing on his thigh while the other squeezed the base of his cock. His head fell back as a string of spit spilled through your lips and landed on the head of his cock. Harry returned his eyes to you quickly, he didn’t want to risk missing the perfect scene.

A knot formed in his stomach as you closed your lips around him and started to suck. The sound of you hollowing your cheeks and stuffing your mouth full filled the room. Your head bobbed up and down as you took in a few inches, then pulled back before going even further. Harry was enjoying the vicious cycle you were performing. Your hand switched from squeezing his base to massaging his balls, both of which were just fuel to the fire.

Even though he fucked you last night after you both swapped foreplay routines, he felt as though it had been ages since he felt the warmth of your mouth engulf him. You hummed around his cock as his fingers raked through your scalp, his attempt at trying to keep your hair out of the way was sweet and meaningful to you. He liked to watch and have a clear view, but he also didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or bothered by any obstacles.

“There you go, fuck.” He groaned out in a thick, heavy tone as you took him down your throat, holding yourself still for a few seconds before gasping for air.

A trail of spit connected your lips to the end of his cock as you leaned back, your lungs struggling to keep up. Harry moaned at the glorious sight, it was always one of his favorite things to see - your lips swollen from sucking his cock, spit covering your skin and tears in your eyes from straining yourself. He was in awe at your beauty.

“Fuck, baby doll.. do you want my cum in your mouth?” He took the chance to ask you while your mouth wasn’t full.

You hadn’t realized you were staring at his cock until you shifted your eyes to his. You shook your head and felt a warmth come to your cheeks. “No, in my pussy, please.”

The corner of his mouth lifted as lust filled his eyes. “Alright, whatever you want, baby.”

You fell forward, your tongue running all over his skin. You swiped up from the bottom, already to the slit in his tip. You sent time poking and slurping it, knowing that he loved that. He was falling apart above you, moaning and grunting and cursing in whispers.

“So good f’me, kitten.” The words came in a low rumble, making your heart flutter.

There was nothing you loved more than praise. It made you feel the best kind of pleasure, made your heart skip beats and your stomach drop, it made your brain dizzy and stars fill your eyes.. It was perfect, especially when Harry gave it to you.

You swallowed him whole again, keeping him stuck in your mouth for a few long moments. Harry tapped your jaw, shaking his head at you. You pulled him out, a loud gasp filling the air.

“Baby, don’t hurt yourself.” He sternly said. “Y’know I don’t like it when you hurt yourself.”

“M’not.. I can handle it.” You whined back, sometimes you got annoyed by his over protectiveness. You wanted to shove him as far in as you could, whether it was in your mouth or your pussy.

“Behave, kitten.”

That worked almost too well on you. You nodded and decided it would be best to just listen to him. When your lips returned to his tip, he sucked in a breath and held it, a sign that he was close. You kept going, sucking on the top inches of his cock, making sure to squeeze the lower half as hard as you could. He felt a familiar feeling growing in his stomach. He wanted you to keep going, but he knew he was dangerously close to busting in your mouth. As much as he loved seeing you swallow his cum, you wanted it elsewhere and he was going to honor that request.

The sound of you slurping on his cock was sending him over the edge. He dug his fingertips into his own thigh as he watched your head bob on his cock. There was a string of spit dripping down his length, sliding over his balls, that was driving him mad. He wanted to explode all over your pretty face and watch you wipe it up with your fingers and suck it off, but he couldn’t.

He grunted, sitting up to grab your jaw. “Gotta stop, baby, or m’gonna cum.”

You whimpered as he pushed you backwards. You kept hold of him though and gave him a squeeze. He swatted your hand back and gave you a stern look. He pushed his pants down to his ankles and gestured for you to stand up. A grin swept over your lips as he reached for your body and easily yanked you forward. You squealed as he slid his hands under your shirt to grab the waistband of your leggings. He pulled them down, along with your panties, and tossed them on the couch beside him.

“Mm, look at that pretty pussy.” His eyes were just as hungry as his cock was for you.

“All for you.” You muttered back with a sultry tone, making him smirk and pull you down on his lap.

He spit on his fingers and gently stuck them in your entrance. You gasped at the sudden feeling, but instantly felt a fire spark to life in your gut. You needed him more than you thought.

“Take your time, okay?” He said while looking up at you. His hand was wrapped around his cock, preparing to line it up and guide it into your body.

You gave him a nod and started to sink down on his length. He moved his hand back once he knew he was in place, and quickly grabbed either side of your waist. A soft whine fell from your lips as he stretched you out. Being on top wasn’t necessarily your favorite position, only because you felt like he had less control and couldn’t dominate you as much, but you knew he liked doing it this way so you never complained. Besides, he quickly reminds you that he dominates over you in any position..

“Oh.” You chirped as you went to grasp your own breast but realized it was covered.

His lips curled up as he watched you tug your shirt over your head and discard it on the floor. Instantly, your hand cupped your boob and gave it a tight squeeze. Harry grunted at the sight and leaned forward to take care of the other one. He sucked hard on your nipple, knocking your hand away so he could squeeze the other one. You let him do whatever he wanted, it felt good to you either way.

Your head fell back and you let out a heavy moan. His length was completely lost in you, filling you to the brim with his pulsing cock. You wanted more.

You grabbed his face and pulled him away from your chest, tilting his head back so you could see him. “Please, please, I need you.”

He returned his hands to your hips and immediately started to assist you in lifting and slamming your body on to his cock. With each hard impact, you gasped and moaned to him. He kept the pace steady since he knew you struggled to stay strong during this. You weren’t weak but it was definitely tiring for you. Just as you grabbed onto his shoulder, he shook his head.

“Nuh uh, baby, you can’t wrinkle my shirt.”

“But.. but that means I.. can’t touch you.” You frowned back.

He sighed, this was a conversation you always had to have while doing this in his office. He wished you’d remember. “No, it means don’t grab onto my shirt.. you can hold on to me but don’t ball up my shirt, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

Despite your promise, you were already struggling with the reality of not being able to touch him. It was like torture for you. He’s so close to you, you’re literally on top of him and you can’t touch him. It felt completely unfair, his hands were gripping your body and fingertips glided over your skin. This couldn’t possibly be fair..

Harry watched closely as you kept hesitating to touch his body. It was almost painful to not feel him or hold on to him in some way. You went to grab his shoulder out of instinct as his cock buried deep in you, but you drew your hand back and let out a frustrated huff.

“Get up.” He said almost instantly, making your brows drop in confusion.

“What? What did I do? M’sorry.” You quickly began to apologize, fearing that something you were unaware of happened. Maybe you did something that made him irritated?

“Don’t apologize, darling, you didn’t do anything.” He said with a smile as you stumbled to your feet. You pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling oddly queasy. “M’not gonna watch you suffer ‘cause you can’t touch me.. Go over the couch for me, okay?”

“Oh, okay.” Your frown morphed to a grin and you hurried to the arm of the couch.

Harry laughed to himself as you quickly fell over the arm, your ass perched in the air as your arms folded beneath your head. You both knew that this was a good position. He was able to go deep and you were able to simply relax and lay there looking pretty for him. You obviously couldn’t touch him this way either, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have to suffer with being so close to him and having access to his body. This way, thrown over the couch with his cock pounding into you, you didn’t even have to worry about touching him.

He smacked his hand against your ass a few times, making you whine and beg for a few more. You were always his dirty girl, even underneath all the cuteness and the perfectionism - you loved a good spanking.

“More, please.” You said again, looking over your shoulder at him.

He squeezed both sides of your ass, pushing your cheeks upward as his cock disappeared into your pussy. He grinned at you, biting down on his lip as his palm landed hard against your skin. You whimpered and gave him a smile.

“Thank you.”

“My kitten loves getting her ass spanked, doesn’t she, baby?” He said, his tone lowered and his eyes dark with lust and sex and euphoria.

“Yes, Daddy. I love it so much.”

There it was. That one simple word, that second name you’ve given him - it drove him over the edge every time. He closed his eyes and just fucked you for a solid minute straight. Your moans circled through the office before floating to the high ceilings, echoes of your squeals and hauntings of your gasps followed. Harry was mesmerized by the sweet sounds you let out. His mind was drifting into the bliss as he was balls deep in your cunt. There was nothing he wanted more right now than you - your body, your heart, your soul, everything. He craved you.

“Fuck, kitten. Such a tight pussy, yeah? And, fuck, so wet f’me.”

Your eyes bolted shut as he splayed his hands on your ass and fucked himself as hard and deep in you as he could. You felt your toes curl and your stomach bubble with excitement. It was becoming overwhelming very quickly, and you knew you were about to let loose. A small gasp slipped out of your mouth as he pounded into you, not wasting a single second.

“M’gonna.. c-cum.” You managed to squeak out a few words.

He heard you, thankfully, and ran his hand down to the small of your back. “Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock. You’re such a good girl.”

His words pushed you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back and your lips fell apart as your body trembled, your legs shook a little as the orgasm rushed through your body. Your pussy was throbbing, your clit hadn’t even been touched by him, yet it was sensitive as it rutted against the arm of the couch. You fell apart on the leather, your feet went numb as you waited for the blissful high to fade in your head.

As you pulsed around him, your soft skin hot and tight around his cock, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could tell you were fucked out, but he was so close he just kept going. Within a few seconds, he was spurting ropes of cum deep inside of your pussy, filling with his warm release. You moaned sweetly as it burned through you. Harry let out a heavy groan as he slowly pulled out of you. His cum began to drip out of your hole. He watched as it slowly seeped out. As much as you wanted to taste it, you were too tired to even move.

[a/n: I decided to split this into two parts bc it was super long.. sorry for the long wait for this series update! hope u enjoy]

taglist: @cherrymelonx-blog @novasblogofstuff @rideeonstyles @esnyhoney @fuzzymelanie @hesvoid3434 @smutmecca @anxieteeeaa @luvonstyles @danaehldy @artist59 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @victoriasigaard @ariiscringe @harlowsgirl @lomllover @haniaaa04 @sideboobrry11 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @fangirl509east @fruity-harry @sassamanda77 @lizsogolden

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ "you wanna try it?"

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt sturniolo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you came across a tiktok, a couple on the screen doing the "kissing without our hands to see who gives in first". you had to try it?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, kissing, suggestive at the end

this is based off this request!

a/n: hiii🤍 first off i just wanna say thank you so so so much for 10k notes AND 800 followers, thats insane. im so so sorry its taken soooo fucking long😭 anyway, i didnt want to turn this into a smut, im sorry LMAO

───────── 🐇

You and Matt were lying in his bed, you on your phone, scrolling mindlessly through tiktok, Matt’s fingers intertwined with your hair. Matt didn’t pay much attention to what you were watching, but he stopped playing with your hair and looked down at your phone when he heard the same sound playing repeatedly.

“Why are you watching that over and over?” he chuckled. “The sound is pissing me off,”

You giggled and held up the phone for Matt to look at.

“Look, it’s this trend, haven’t you seen it?” you said, Matt holding your hand that was holding the phone to understand what was going on.

Kissing with our hands behind our backs until one of us gives in.

“No, I don’t think I have,” he looked down at you, locking eyes with you. “You wanna try it?”

Your cheeks flushed before you hesitantly nodded. Why not? He must’ve noticed because he started smiling at you.

“Sure,” you smiled shyly back, the both of you getting up to sit in front of each other. 

Matt looked down at you, his arms behind his back, before he leaned down to kiss you gently. Your eyes instinctively closed, leaning closer to him. He smiled against your lips, slightly tilting his head to the side to get a better angle.

You pulled away, looking up at Matt. You giggled, really wanting to hold his face and tell him how much you love him before he leaned closer again, leaving kisses on your jawline and neck, making you inhale sharply.

“Hey, that’s- that’s unfair,” you chuckled, throwing your head back to give him better access to your neck. His only response was a laugh against your skin, making you whine.

He pulled away, gazing into your eyes before kissing your lips again, which was much more passionate than the last one. He then slowly slid his tongue past your bottom lip, into your mouth, making you whimper against his mouth.

“Come on, I know you wanna touch me,” he murmured, continuing to kiss you. 

He was right. You really fucking wanted to hold him, but you weren’t giving up just now. Instead, you just kept kissing him, slipping your tongue into his mouth. 

You felt him tense up, making you smile against his now wet lips. He pulled away for a split second, before kissing along your jawline, down your neck, up behind your ear again.

“Matt- fuck,” you gasped. He knew you too well, your neck being your soft spot.

You couldn’t help it. You untangled your arms, your hands immediately finding their way to his hair, gently tugging at it, pushing his face closer to your skin.

Matt didn’t waste a second to grab your hips, softly pushing you over, your head hitting the pillow behind you.

“Oh thank God,” he smirked, his hand resting on your waist, the other one intertwining itself in your hair. He then started sucking on your skin, making you whine.

“Shit,” you whimpered, one hand tugging his hair, the other in a tight grip on his bicep. He just kept kissing you all over your neck and collarbone, leaving small wet spots that would surely turn a darker shade of purple later.

Matt left one last kiss on your chest, before pulling away to look at you.

“I win,” he smiled proudly, leaning down to give your lips a soft peck. You smiled back at him, running your hand through his hair.

“Yeah yeah. I’ll win another time,” you rolled your eyes playfully, Matt positioning himself beside you. Both lying on your side, staring into each other's eyes before you broke into laughter, your cheeks turning red.

“What?!” Matt giggled, his hand now shaking your shoulder as you laughed.

“The way you’re looking at me. You’re just- you’re just adorable.” you blushed, covering your face in Matt’s chest. His hands caressed the top of your head, now laughing himself.

“Oh um- I’m sorry?” his cheeks were now bright pink. You pulled away to look at him, a big cheesy smile on plastered on his face. You reached out to hold his hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Oh God, I love you so much, Matt.” your eyes fixated on his eyes, then lips. He blushed again before leaning in to kiss your forehead, nose, cheeks, and corner of your mouth, before finally locking his lips onto yours.

“I love you more,” he mumbled against your lips, before flipping you over, so he was leaning over you, one hand beside your head, the other holding your hand above your head.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” you giggled before his lips were back on your neck.

౨ৎ

a/n: i love this idea btw, thanks for the request!!

[kill4luvina]

✧ Never Again ✧

"I got a feeling one of these days You'll be the reason I stay Way you whine, girl, you make me insane"

PossisiveBf!TojixBlack!Reader 

CW - Modern, Overly Possisive Toji, OOC, Toji Smoking, Unprotected Sex, Public Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie. Probbably more but I’m lazy and not proofread. (I havent posted in so long give me a break.)

Summary: You and your boyfriend of 3 years go out on a date to celebrate when you run into a old friend who obviously can’t read the room. In a hurry to finish the short reunion your boyfriend leaves angrily waiting for you outside the car to ready to take his frustration out on you. 

“Tojii, this place is so wonderfu!” You’d gasp holding onto his arm in awe, as you both entered the dimly lit restaurant. Your eyes glued to the white plaster sculpture of a winged figure riding a horse above you two. Your boyfriend woud smile knowing you loved sculptures and this would be the perfect place to spend you 3rd anniversary.

After being seated , about 30 minutes later you were caught off guard by a figure behind you. You quickly turn to see a bright smile. Gojo, one of your old friends from High school who seemed to have not aged a day over 20. Though you knew he was around 25, you smile back greeting him with a wave. “How are you?” He asked. 

You glanced over to your boyfriend who looked unbothered before bringing your full attention back to Gojo. “Oh I’m doing wonderful, You?” You smiled happy to see him, the last time you two spoke waas at the end of after a trip with your high school friend group. You two soon lost track of time talking for almost 15 minutes! 

You notice Gojo give a strange look before looking around in confusion. You turn to see Toji’s gone, your heart dropping. “I-” you couldnt form words wondering how long he had been gone for, if he left you or what. You struggle to make a sentence before gojo smiles a nods. “Go on, it’s my fault i interrupted.” 

You’d smile, “It was nice seeing you!” you’d say quickly getting up and speed walking to the entrance of the restaurant. Your silver glittery heels slightly slowing you down, which made you quickly take them off as soon as you got outside panicking as you jogged to where he had parked. “Toji?!” You’d call out startled when you didnt see his car for a moment.

“Right here mamas.” He’d answer from a little farther down making you sigh quickly, seeing the smoke from his blund rising into the dark night. You’d slowly walk to the direction of his voice until you saw him standing against his blacked out Lamborghini Aventador. “Toji, I’m sorry I got so caught up in the conversation..” You’d say looking at the ground.

He’d huff ignoring your apology just hitting the blunt, his eyes not even moving in your direction. He’d stand there silently listening to pleas, as you kept apolging, tears filling your eyes as you started to sniffle. Your voice cracking as you came closer to him pulling on his suit begging him to even look at you. 

“Y/n.”  Your heart would completely sink, he only ever called you by your name when you really fucked up. You’d look up at him, and he was now looking down at you. His eyes cold and low as he blew some smoke into your face. The Earthy scent mixed with his La Nuit De L'homme Yves Saint Laurent colonne making you weak. 

“Y-yes?” You’d answer, eyes watering even more scared at what he might say this time. “Mamas, what’d I’d tell you about guys talking to you?” He’d tilt his head, his eyes softening up as he noticed your tears starting to roll down your face. “N-not to pay them any mind, and I’m sorry he was an old friend!” You’d try to explain only to be shut up with a kiss. 

“I’ll let you get away with this one because it’s our anniversary. But you owe me one thing..”

You don’t know what possessed you to let this happen but you found yourself getting fucked agasint this mans car. Lamborghini to be specific, out in a public parking lot. 

“T-Tojii-” You’d whine feeling him drill in and out of your squelching pussy, tightening around him as you heard footsteps nearing. “Shh, they’re gonna hear..” He’d chuckle knowing they were going to see anyway. “F-fuckk. too deep-!” you’d cry as you felt him bury himself as deep as possible. His smirk grew as he watched a couple gasp seeing this. 

You’d let out a loud moan feeling him slap your ass, your dress pulled up to your waist and laced panties in his right hand. “Your being too loud..” He’d whissper in your ear still fucking your now creamy pussy. “How about..” Failing to fight back you found your panties now shoved in your mouth to shut you up, your eyes tearing up in embarrassment as you saw another man walk past. 

Unfortunately for you, it was someone you knew. The person who started all of this, you felt your tears start to pour as you couldn’t stop moaning from the pleasure but the embarrassment was too much. “Y/n?” He’d titled his head to the side in shock, feeling himself get hard before quickly walking off trying to pretend he never saw.

“Toji!” You’d scream muffled by the fabric in your mouth, you quickly spit it out turning back to look at him. He’d without hesitation push your head against the car window, “who’s a good slut?’ He’d ask fucking you even faster as you felt yourself reaching the edge. Your eyes rolling back as he brought one of your legs up to fuck you deeper. 

“Omg! Fuckkk!” You’d cry cumming all over his dick, feeling him thrust into you a few more times before letting his load out in you. “Look at you, a little cum dump.” He’d snicker as he pulled out, giving your ass a little slap before picking your heels & purse from the floor. You’d feel yourself get picked up and gently placed in the car. 

“Never do that shit again.” He’d say coldly before givng you a kiss on your forehead and coming around the to the drivers seat. You’d sit there silently just rethinking your life as you felt yourself drip  your boyfriends cum onto his expensive seats.

Little did the both of know of a few cars down sat gojo in his own car, windows rolled down half way, cum all over his stomach & chest. Breathing heavily with the feeling of embarrassment overwhelming him. He had sat there listening to you, just to get off to his fist? He didn’t feel okay after that one yet he loved every moment of it while it was happening.  

yall should i make a part 2 with gojo telling u to leave ur bf :)

"Bad man looking good in Dior Bad man drip to the core Sport car's parked on the right spot Bad man sleek and you know"

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Red Velvet

Smut (anal, creampie, caught during sex, first time sex, mentioning of virginity)

Chapter 10

1935 Words

(OC wants to claim his prize for debuting Irene’s group. Not everything goes according to plan, and sacrifices are made.)

“Unnie, we’re excited to debut! Can’t believe it’s actually happening!”

“You girls deserve it.”

”It's all because of you, unnie,” say the members in unison.

”How are we debuting earlier than the other girl group?” asks Wendy.

“Irene unnie has pull with the CEO, that’s why, haha,” says Joy jokingly.

”Shhh, don’t even joke around; if the other trainees hear you, they are going to complain.”

”Don’t worry about what people say, you girls deserve it. As the oldest, it's my responsibility to take care of you girls.”

”How about we celebrate later tonight?” asks Seulgi.

”That sounds like fun,” replies Wendy.

”What about, unnie?” asks Joy.

”I wish I could, but I need to get some things done. You girls celebrate without me. Here, order some food with this,” Irene gives Seulgi the company credit card.

“Haha, we are going to eat!”

Irene then exits the room and pulls her phone out to see the text message she got during the gathering. “What does he want now?” She reads the message, “IU is out abroad, so get cleaned up; I’ll be stopping by your place later tonight.”

Later that evening, the members celebrate their upcoming debut by ordering some takeout and participating in around of round karaoke. Everytime they take a selfie they send it to Irene but get no response. “We should take some food to unnie. I don’t think she has enough time to cook food after working so late these past few days,” says Wendy.”

”You’re right, let’s surprise her.”

”Yes, maybe we can bring some party streamers and surprise her, haha,” says Joy.

The members pack some food in tupperware and head to Irene’s apartment. They try to be as careful as possible not to get caught by the staff who look for trainees violating their curfew. They exit the elevator and turn towards the hallway to find her apartment. Standing in front of her door, they try to remember her key code from the time they visited her a while back.

The door unlocks, and they all enter her apartment and place the food on the countertop. They look around, but there is no sign of Irene until they hear some noise coming from the room at the end of the hallway.

Curious, they slowly tiptoe and see the door slightly open and look through the little slit and are shocked at the scene. They see Irene, their oldest member and the mother-type figure of the group nude, getting pounded on all fours.

“I’ve missed this ass so much,” as you give it a nice smack. You spread her ass cheeks wide open, giving you a nice view of her pucker hole.

Irene whines,“Just get it over with.”

You align your cock to her pucker hole and slowly press it into her hole, causing her to grunt. She tries to hold her composure but can't when you grab hold of her hips and slam your cock all the way inside.

“Oh fuck! You're being too rough!”

You don't pay any attention and begin to thrust rapidly. Irene buries her head onto the pillow to muffle her expression. You slap her ass continuously, leaving your handprint on her ass.

Minutes pass, and you pull out and say, “How about I claim my present right now?”

Irene lifts her head and turns to you, “No, please, I'm not really yet. Just give me some more time to prepare.”

“Why should I? Remember the deal we made a while back?” as you trace your thumb against her folds.

“Yes, I remember and I'll do it, but just not today.”

“Then when?”

“How about after our debut? Give me a few more days.”

You rub your thumb against her lips and say, “Alright, but this is the last time I'm going to wait.”

“Okay.”

“Be thankful I'm patient with you; someone else wouldn't have done the same.”

“Yes I know, thank you.”

“Now raise up your ass; I want to cum inside.”

Irene positions herself a bit better and raises up her ass. With one hand, you spread her ass cheek and insert your cock back inside, “Fuck, to think that you offered your own virginity for the sake of your group, haha.”

Irene groans as she feels your cock stretch her ass completely and buries her head into her pillow to prevent herself from moaning.

On the other side of the door, the members watch as the oldest gets fucked from behind. They come to the realization of Irene's commitment to them, even at the cost of giving her own virginity.

Joy then whispers, “Unnie, let's go; I don't want to see what happens next.”

“Same here; I want to go.”

Seulgi responds, “Let's be quiet,” and the three of them turn around towards the exit.

Suddenly, they hear a loud smack and a shout, “I'm going to cum inside you!” They hear Irene yell out loud and try to cover their ears. The members rush back to their dorm and try to take in what they just saw.

“I can’t believe Irene unnie and the CEO were doing it” says Joy.

Wendy responds, ”I know; Irene said she was busy, so I thought she was working.”

”Maybe it was an excuse,” says Seulgi.

”I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like she was doing it because she liked it. I always thought Irene unnie liked girls and hated men.”

”What if she’s being forced by the CEO?” asks Joy.

”You have a point; he said something about a deal in exchange for her first time,” says Seulgi.

”Do you think she made a deal so that we could debut first?” asks Wendy.

The members look at each other in disbelief at the idea that Irene could do something like this. “We should try to talk to Irene about it. Tell her that it’s not worth it, we can always debut later.”

”How do you think we should bring it up? Are we going to tell her that we walked in on them having sex? There is a reason why she didn’t tell us” says Wendy.

”All I know is that we should do something about it” says Joy.

“Let's try to talk to her tomorrow morning before our schedule,” suggests Seulgi. The members agree and nod their heads.

The next day, the members are woken up by a sweet smell and make their way to the kitchen. They see Irene wearing an apron and holding a bowl of pancake mix, “Good morning! Take a seat, I’m making some pancakes.”

The members sit on the stools and look at each other, trying to figure out how to bring up what they saw yesterday.

“Sorry I wasn't able to join the three of you, I was so busy with work that I ended up falling asleep when I got back. How was your celebration?”

“It was good. We ate a lot and even saved some for you.”

“Aww, thanks. Maybe we can celebrate after our debut!”

“We'd love that. They try to find a way to bring up the subject, but instead Irene leads the conversation.

After eating, they arrive at the dance room and practice one last time before their debut tomorrow. “Alright girls. This is our last performance as a trainee group. Tomorrow is our big day, so let's call it a day and rest a bit. I'll see everyone later today.”

“Okay!”

Irene leaves the practice room and meets up with the managers to talk about tomorrow's schedule. The other three discuss their plan for the day when Wendy asks, “What are we going to do about Irene unnie?”

Seulgi responds, “I don't think we should get involved; maybe we didn't get the whole picture.”

“Seulgi is right; what if they were role-playing, and we caught them in one of those moments,” says Joy.

“Remember when we asked if anyone had a person they liked? Irene said she couldn't see herself liking a man but blushed when we asked if it was a possibility with a girl.”

Yeah, I remember.”

“I can't see her doing it with anyone, especially a guy.”

“Let's just wait until she tells us herself, we don't want to get involved in her personal life, especially if it's with the CEO. He can disband us if he wants to.”

“You're right, we don't want to get kicked out just moments before our debut.”

Exhausted with the situation Wendy replies “Okay, I won't bring it up anymore.“

The four members wait behind the main stage as the MC gets ready to introduce them as the new girl group. They hold each other’s hands and hope for the best before heading onto the stage.

”Give a big applause to the new group. Let’s welcome, Red Velvet!”

The audience applauds as the four of them walk on stage. They give a warm smile and wave, “Thank you! We are so glad to be here.”

They each look at each other and nod, “Happiness! Hello- We are Red Velvet!” The music starts and they begin their performance.

”Thank you, everyone for your support! We'll perform much more” as the members wave goodbye. They bow and watch as the stage light goes dark.

“Good job everyone. You all did so well. Let's keep it up!”

“Thank you Irene unnie.”

“Let's go celebrate!”

“Yes, let's get some food!”

After a night of celebration each of the members are back in their rooms.

Everyone is asleep except one, she makes her way to her closet and grabs her bag and a trench coat before heading out. Her mind is set; she can't let her unnie care all the burden while the rest enjoy the easy life and exits the apartment.

You're going over at some last-minute documents when you hear the doorbell go off. Curious about who it might be, you get up and check the security screen. “What is she doing here?”

You open the door and ask, “What brings you here this late?”

“I came to take Irene unnie's place.”

Surprised, you respond, “I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Like I said, I'm here to take her place” and opens her trench coat, revealing her nude body. “What do you think?”

”Not bad.”

“You can do anything you want as long as you don't bother her anymore. Just let her keep her virginity, and you can have mine.”

Not being able to contain yourself, you place your hand on her soft and tender breast, giving them a faint squeeze. Wendy's eyes squints, adjusting herself to being touched by a man for the first time.

“Are you sure you’re willing to take her place?”

”Yes, I’ve made up my mind.”

That’s all you got to hear as you grab her hand and let her into your apartment. You stop at the living room and say, “Let’s get you comfortable and take off that coat.” Wendy slowly lets the coat go, revealing her whole body but still trying to cover her shaved cunt.

“Move your hand, I want to see everything.”

”Okay.”

You walk around, inspecting 360 degrees, before grabbing her hand once more and lead her into the bedroom. She walks into the neat room and sees the large bed in the center of the room. Wendy takes one last breath before shutting the door, preparing herself for what she’s about to do.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

clicker

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only, smut, kind of pet play but it really is just the clicker, clicker training (duh), female recieving oral, p in v sex, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

your eyes are squeezed closed, so you don’t even realize the source of the sound as your eyes blink open, body still shaking from your high as rafe is smiling between your legs, one of his hands raised, a clicker held between his long fingers.

rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine when his lips make contact with your red sensitive skin.

“what is that?” you question, gesturing to the clicker, but rafe just smiles, moving to kneel between your legs, his cock rubbing over your wet folds before thrusting in.

you hear the clicker a second time that night when he makes you cum again.

--

you are trying to stifle your moans, palm pressed against your mouth, praying you won't get caught. you should have known rafe wouldn't be able to resist you in the tight dress, but you thought he could at least wait until you got home.

instead, he guided you back into the dressing room and pulled the dress up to reveal your cunt.

“r-rafe.” you whimper, eyes rolling back in your head as his cock repeatedly enters you, careful not to push all the way in and have the sound of skin slapping reveal what you are doing behind the door.

“cum for me baby, come on.” rafe whispers, moving your hand to your clit, encouraging you to touch yourself.

you rub at your clit, moving your head further into rafes shoulder, teeth gently sinking into his skin to keep you silent while he thrusts. you feel him swell inside of you and know he won’t last much longer.

you feel one of his hands leave your hip but don’t pay much attention until he releases inside of you, triggering your own orgasm, suddenly realizing that he has the clicker in his hand as he presses it at the height of your orgasm. 

“oh fuck.” you whine into his skin, body shaking as you come down from your high.

“shh.” rafe smiles, shoving the clicker back into his pocket and giving you a kiss on your pouty lips.

--

“give me a number between one and ten.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as he rushes around the living room, getting his things ready to go.

“uhh, six.” you shrug.

“thats how many times i’ll make you cum tonight then.” rafe says, wishing he could just stay with you today, but he’s been neglecting his guy friends and promised a golf outing as well as drinks at the country club.

rafe makes you cum six times once he gets home, one with just his fingers, three with his mouth, and two on his cock, each time your high peaks, he reaches over to press the clicker. you’re so exhausted and blissed out by the end of the night that you can’t even muster up the energy to ask about the clicker.

--

“come on.” rafe whines, pawing at your dress.

“no, rafe, i’m busy! give me an hour and i promise i’ll be done.” you continue to type out your essay, knowing you need to get it done. rafe is incredibly supportive of you taking online college classes, but it can be hard for him when you don’t give him your undivided attention.

rafe just frowns, leaving the room only to enter a few minutes later, this time with the clicker in hand. 

“rafe, no-” you warn, but his fingers press down and your thighs clench together, a rush of wetness flooding your cunt as you let out an involuntary moan.

“wanna fuck now?” rafe asks. you glance between him and the essay open on your laptop, sighing dramatically before shutting the screen.

rafe has a proud smile plastered on his face at the success of his clicker.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[sucker4vy]

“CAN WE SKIP DINNER, TONIGHT?”

SYPNOSIS: Nanami is always getting home late from work. You both haven't had any time for date night! He was supposed to take you out to dinner tonight actually, but you in that tight dress has him wanting some dessert first.

CONTENTS: Husband!Nanami, Fem!Reader, date night (gone wrong?), praise, dry humping, cum in pants, groping, manhandling

NOTES: Kinktober 24' Masterlist

You pat down your dress while looking at yourself in the mirror.

You wanted to make sure it fit perfectly. You didn't have time to try it on at the mall since you were in such a rush this morning. You still had to do your makeup, your hair, and a bunch of other stuff.

“Everything needs to be perfect,” is what you tell yourself every five seconds because it did, in fact, have to be perfect. Nothing could go wrong.

It's been so long since your last date with Nanami. You both just haven't had the time.

He’s always working and by the time he gets home you’re already asleep or you’re tired and getting ready for bed.

But today, Nanami told you he would be getting off work early today. “I’ll be home by six,” you recall him saying.

At first, you were thinking of lying in bed until it was time for you to get ready but the longer you laid down, the more impatient you grew. You felt antsy, beginning to do random chores around the house.

You did the laundry, you washed the dishes from last night’s dinner, afterwards you cleaned the rest of the kitchen, leaving everything spotless.

Even then you felt impatient. So you just finished cleaning up one last thing in the kitchen and you somehow ended up at the mall.

You bought your dress and a couple of other things you’ll probably use later in the week. It was a refreshing trip, to say the least.

—

You're almost done getting ready by the time Nanami arrives home. He walks upstairs to your shared bedroom and knocks on the door but you shout, "Five more minutes, Kento!"

He scoffs and shakes his head. Figures. You always take a long time to get ready, it's no surprise what you tell him.

Usually, he'll wait for you downstairs on occasion like this one, but he, for some reason, gets the urge to open the door instead.

He hesitates when his hand reaches for the doorknob, hesitating for a second, then proceeds to turn it. Behind the door lies you who's sitting so perfectly, a heavenly glow surrounding you at your vanity.

You look so pretty, so good, so pure it makes him want to ruin that a little. All of a sudden, his pants feel tight around his crotch.

You glare at him complaining, "I said five more minutes." Your bottom lip pushed forward in a pout.

Nanami pays no attention to your words and simply smiles at you, a strange yet familiar look in his eyes. He walks forward, hand placed on your shoulder.

There's a lovely smile on your face instead of a pout now. You could never stay mad at this man for long.

His hand slides down your shoulder, down your torso, stopping at your waist, and then his other hand mimics that same action.

A soft gasp can be heard from you when he picks you up, and a brush you are holding falls out of your hand. *Thud*

You're gently placed on the bed. Nanami stares down at you for a moment before joining you, his head meeting your chest.

“You look too good in that dress, darling,” he says.

His hands slide up your waist, back down, and back up again. He repeats that same motion a few times before he just stops completely, staring down at you with such hunger in his eyes.

He could devour you, right here, right now, but he takes his time with you instead. He’s so gentle with you that the look in his eyes doesn't match his actions.

“Can we skip dinner tonight?” He moves one of his hands to your stomach, patting and rubbing.

He doesn't notice but he’s pressing his bulge into your thigh, and when he shifts around you can feel it growing. Although, you can tell he’s not just getting “comfortable” but also trying to relieve himself.

He’s moving his hips, almost unnoticeable but you still catch it. It's completely out of character—everything he’s been doing today has been completely out of character for him.

“Sure.” You smile.

You are slightly disappointed because you spent so long getting ready to go out, but you do feel a little exhausted.

Nanami smiles but it quickly falters, closing his eyes and sighing. His head is resting against your chest, innocently, like he isn't rubbing his cock up and down your thigh.

“N-Nanami,” you stutter. He hums against your chest, the sound vibrating.

You feel a little embarrassed about what you want to say, it’s difficult to explain but it's not at the same time. It’s blunt, to say the least.

“Yes?” You begin again then stop, it has Nanami tilting his head upwards at you. The way you hesitate to speak has him intrigued.

He drags his bulge up your thigh, your eyes fluttering shut. He watches you open your mouth again, “That—”

He moves around so that his clothed bulge is pressing against your pussy, wet and soaking with your arousal. Funny how he hasn’t even done anything and you’re soaking.

“That,” you finally say.

He tilts his head back down, more down than it was before to take a look at his cock. It’s so hard that it’s painful for him to even be humping your thigh like this, like an animal in heat.

"Fuck, I can't take it anymore, Darling," he mumbles.

He repositions himself, now steadying himself with his arms, looking directly down at you. And instead of your thigh, he's dry-humping your pantie-clad pussy.

You find your soaking pussy clenching around nothing, nothing at all. Little moans escape from the back of your throat as your fingers make their way to your pussy, but they don't.

Nanami quickly grabs your wrist, bringing it up to his face to suck at your fingers. His eyes are low and filled with lust as he does so. The action is so simple yet you find it to be so hot, especially with the way he holds eye contact with you while he lightly bites your fingers.

He lets your wrist go, letting it flop down to your side. The same hand he was holding your wrist with now creeping up your torso, finding one of your plush tits. He fondles your boob, squishing and massaging it.

Your moans grow even louder with that. Your hand wrapping around his other one, staring so seductively up at him.

He starts humping you faster, listening to your soft, sweet moans. He could listen to those little sounds forever.

His breathing becomes fast, with short inhales. He knows he’s close, but he tries to hold it in. He doesn't want to cum when he hasn't even done anything to you yet. What kind of man would he be then?

You know he’s about to come. You encourage it by saying, “C’mon, Kento, come for me.” His hips move faster at your words and his eyes shut in ecstasy.

A loud groan echoes throughout the room when he cums. A damp spot forms in his pants, it's small at first but then progressively grows bigger as the moisture spreads.

His pants feel uncomfortable after what he just released into them. Wet, soggy, you name it. He just wants to pull them off already.

His hand quickly works at his belt but you stop him by grabbing his wrist like he did to you earlier, moving around to where you’re on your knees like Nanami currently is. You move your head down, keeping eye contact with him as you do so, licking at the damp spot on his pants.

“We’re not done yet,” you mumble. You move your hands to his waist, slowly sliding down his pants.

He just watches you, looking right down into your eyes. “Okay,” is all he says, watching as you begin to pull down his boxers as well.

“Guess, I’ll just have to get comfortable.”

[imtryingbuck]

Angeleyes. 

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n sings Angeleyes in front of her ex boyfriend and his new girl.

Word count: 2,010

Warnings: mentions of cheating, singer!reader (warning?) sexual innuendos. Bucky is…well he’s just gross in this.

Masterlist

“Are you ready Y/n/n?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be”

Swallowing her nerves she stepped on to the stage, the bright lights nearly blinding her, her heart beating rapidly all disappeared when the music vibrated through her whole body, as always when she was on a stage she came alive.

keep thinking 'bout his angel eyes

keep thinking, ah-ah

The girl under his arm smiled hugely at him when the lyrics filled the room. He smiled back before placing a soft kiss to her lips which had the girl blushing.

Last night, I was taking a walk along the river, And I saw him together with a young girl

And the look that he gave her made me shiver, 'Cause he always used to look at me that way

His heart stopped. He knew that voice.

Whipping his head from the girl to the stage he started to shift in his seat. He knew the singer standing on the stage like she belonged there, like she was put on to this earth to perform.

He remembers the first time he heard her sing, she was in the shower putting on a performance of a life time to the shampoo and conditioner bottles. When he asked her to sing to him she blushed violently before agreeing, she was so shy when she wasn’t singing but the moment she did she gained everyone’s attention.

Some nights after a pacticular nightmare he would ask her to sing something for him, she would always pick something from his era.

Then I thought maybe I should walk right up to her and say

"Ah-ha-ha, it's a game he likes to play"

She was a friend of Nat’s who had introduced the team to her, her and Bucky hit off straight away.

“Do you want to play a game?” Bucky asked once they were alone in the tower.

“What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare”

“Okay”

The game started off pretty innocent until Bucky dared her to kiss him. So she did.

The kiss ended up with them naked, panting for breath in his bed.

A few weeks later Bucky asked her out and she said yes.

Look into his angel eyes. One look and you're hypnotised

“Buck has anyone ever told you that your eyes are perfect?” Y/n asked one day as they were lying in bed together.

“No, do you think they are?”

“It’s like you’ve got angel eyes”

“Angel eyes?”

“Yep! Oh and they are so hypnotic”

Bucky barked out a laugh, he had always been told that his eyes were nice but this…this was new.

“Hypnotic? Baby can my eyes hypnotise you?”

“Maybe, no definitely can” she answered.

“Let’s put this to the test shall we?”

Neither one left the room for that whole day.

He'll take your heart and you must pay the price. Look into his angel eyes

That’s all she did, she gave and gave whilst he just took everything not once giving her the same or even a slither of what she gave him.

She gave him her heart, her soul, her body on a silver platter and he took it. The moment he was done he took the silver platter and smashed it on the ground letting it break into tiny little pieces, stomping on it just to finish the job.

He did it all whilst looking at her with those bright baby blue eyes, the ones that reminded her of an angel, no harm could be done not when he had those angel eyes.

What a lie.

You'll think you're in paradise

And one day you'll find out he wears a disguise

She was on cloud nine, her landlord had rang her earlier that day to say that he was getting maintenance out to fix the pipe under her sink that had been playing up for weeks. She had gotten the promotion at work, the one that she had worked so hard for.

Bucky had told her to come to the tower after work, said that he planning something special for them both. He always did that, always planning things for them he was the first boyfriend she ever had that always made time for her, always made her feel like she worth more than life had to offer, always one step ahead of the game.

He made her feel safe, secure and loved.

Until she walked happily into the tower and saw him with a brunette lips locked together.

Don't look too deep into those angel eyes. Oh no, no, no, no

“Jamie who is this?” the brunette asked looking at Y/n.

“A friend”

“Oh it’s so nice to meet you I’m Dolores but you can call me Dot, I’m Jamie’s fiancée”

Y/n looked at the woman’s left hand and sure enough there was a silver band with a huge rock sitting on her finger, her teary eyes met his angel eyes her heart breaking even more when she saw no remorse. She had no choice but to shake the woman’s hand.

Making up a lie to the woman who accepted it Y/n rushed out of the room to the elevator, looking back to see Bucky’s eyes trained on her.

(Ah-ha-ha, ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha) (Ah-ha-ha, ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)

(Ah-ha-ha) I keep thinking 'bout his angel eyes I keep thinking, ah-ah)

She was the other woman. She was the other woman and none of his friends told her, Nat hadn’t even told her and she knew. Nat knew Y/n was in love with a man who was engaged to someone else and she didn’t even tell her.

That night she curled up on the couch tears streaming heavily down her cheeks, the thought of sleeping in the bed that held the memories of them sweaty and naked in her bed and that was just that morning, made her feel physically sick.

Sometimes when I'm lonely, I sit and think about him. And it hurts to remember all the good times. When I thought I could never live without him

Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.

Like a fool that’s all she thought about. She thought about a man who had used her, made her into something she always swore she would never be, the man who took her heart in the palm of his hand a squeezed until there was hardly anything left to squeeze out.

He didn’t try once to reach out to her to try and explain or to try and make out that this Dot lady was a crazy woman who was just making things up, even though she knew it would have been a lie she kept expecting him to show up at her door and tell her that.

Was she a bad person? Should she have told Dot that her fiancé was a cheater? Would the woman believe her? Would it even make a difference?

He made her feel loved, she was in love with him whole heartedly and all she was to him was some dumb naive play thing whilst his fiancée was probably planning their wedding. There was never a dull moment between her and Bucky, their year together was full of passion, love, laughter. The memories he left her with were good, happy and now they were tainted.

He took a year of her life and the whole time she meant nothing to him when he was her world. Her mom always did say that when she loved she loved hard, and it was true.

Stupidly she thought she was going to spend the rest of her life with him.

And I wonder, does it have to be the same. Every time when I see him, will it bring back all the pain?

She had managed to avoid him out on the streets or stores until one fateful night when she had gone to the store after work to pick some more ice cream up, as she walked down the aisles her music blaring through her headphones she caught a glimpse of him laughing with Steve. Neither one noticed her.

Her heart ached at the sight of him. It had been over six months since she last saw him and every single thing she tried so hard to forget came rushing back. Dropping the basket she was carrying on the ground she rushed out of the store.

Not knowing that Bucky had seen her fleeing away from him.

Ah-ha-ha, how can I forget that name?

If it wasn’t in her memories his name haunted it was online.

‘James Barnes and Dolores Roberts tie the knot in beautiful ceremony’ the headlines read, in the photos they stood there with huge smiles on their faces.

‘James Barnes injured on a mission in Russia’ the urge to phone and check up on him had her throwing her phone across the room.

‘James and Dolores Barnes expecting first baby together’

‘James Barnes’

‘James Barnes’

‘James Barnes’

Though the world didn’t know about her they didn’t let her forget his name.

Look into his angel eyes. One look and you're hypnotized

His eyes haunted her dreams. The worst part of it all was that they still brought her peace and safety.

He'll take your heart and you must pay the price. Look into his angel eyes, You'll think you're in paradise. Then one day you'll find out he wears a disguise. Don't look too deep into those angel eyes. Crazy 'bout his angel eyes. Angel eyes

He took my heart and now I pay the price

He sat there and watched as she owned the stage, he took each word she heavenly sang in. The guilt eating more and more away at him for the way things went between them, he was so caught up in the moment of being able to get away with cheating on his then fiancée now wife that he didn’t think about the damage he was causing anyone else.

At least not his Y/n.

Look into his angel eyes

He loved the way she called him Angeleyes, at first it was something silly she would say to wind him up but then it became a name that every time she called it him she had his full attention, he even stopped answering to Bucky when it came from her.

You'll think you're in paradise

Bucky had no idea how his straying away from Dot began, he doesn’t even remember the first woman’s name or how she looked. Meeting Y/n was the best thing to ever happen to him, being with her was definitely like being in paradise. She wasn’t just another woman he cheated on his fiancée with, no she had his heart.

Then one day you'll find out he wears a disguise. Don't look too deep into those angel eyes. Oh no, no, no, no

He never wore a disguise…he was always himself with her. Well apart from telling her that he was engaged to another woman.

keep thinking. Keep thinking 'bout his angel eyes (ah-ha-ha)

Keep thinking (ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha). Keep thinking, had to pay the price (ah-ah, ah-ah-ah)

Keep thinking (ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha) Keep thinking 'bout his angel eyes (ah-ah-ah). Keep thinking (ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)

As the song came to an end everyone in the place stood and cheered, the girl under his arm that was most definitely not his wife as she was at home looking after their three year old and nine week old baby, stood up clapping along with the rest not knowing that the song she had been dancing along to was about the man she was on her third date with, nor did she know that he was married with two children. The cheering slowly came to a stop, Bucky watched as his Y/n climbed down the three steps off the stage and jumped into a man’s arms.

His Angeleyes filling with tears when he saw the man take her face into his hands and placed his lips to hers.

His heart breaking when he caught the light reflecting off a ring, a ring that sat on her left hand.

Keep thinking, I had to pay the price (ah-ah, ah-ah-ah). Keep thinking (ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[bellarkeselection]

I had an idea for rip. It’s kinda like the scene from season 1 where jimmy got beaten up by Fred but instead of Jimmy could it be the reader is rips wife and she’s secretly pregnant with their second child and she protects her stomach and then revel to rip she’s pregnant again. You can easily change bits to the story or even add a little bit of smut that’s fine with me .

The Rule Of Fighting…Especially my Wife

Threading my fingers through his black hair Rip broke the kiss pulling himself out of me where we laid under the covers naked. Running a hand over my face I began catching my breath. Moving my other hand over my growing pregnant belly until Rip grasped my hand in his. Rolling onto my side I whispered still not awake even though we woke up in a very pleasing way. “Do you have to go to work today. Can’t we just take a day and lay around the house?”

“You’re daddy wouldn’t like that. Besides I owe him everything for letting me work at the ranch.” He responded leaning forward and kissing me on the head gently getting up from the bed. He shrugs his jeans on and grabbed his black jacket with his hat off the hook.

Holding myself up on my elbow I held the sheet up against my chest even though he had seen me naked already. “Yeah you’re probably right, baby. Hey though where do you think our little Georgie is off too?”

“I ain’t too sure. He’s probably trying to sattle a horse or running around with his grandpa John. I’ll see you later tonight Y/n.” He placed his hat on his head coming over giving me one last kiss going to work.

Getting out of the bed, I ran my hands down my grown belly, looking myself over in the standing mirror we had in the corner of the bedroom. I slide on the pair of jeans that didn't press on my stomach, pairing it with a light orange flannel shirt that was tucked into them. With some light brown boots and a tan cowgirl hat on my head. Heading towards the barn, I grabbed the saddle for my horse about to throw it over until I heard someone make a remark about me entering the room. "Woah, I guess that Wheeler really couldn't let you go, so he just keeps knocking you up."

"I'm sorry do you have a problem with me?" Throwing the saddle over my horse I turned around on my feet with my boots kicking up dust.

My gaze met the appearance of one of the ranch hands who was named Fred if I remember correctly. "I've got a problem with you getting special attention from the boss."

"Your boss is my father, so.." Crossing my arms over my chest, I snipped in a slight tone.

Fred stepped closer towards me, glaring down at me since he was slightly taller than me. "I ain't talkin about your daddy, Dutton. You're sleeping with Wheeler and get off work early and still getting the same pay as we do. That isn't right in my opinion."

"First off, I get breaks more than you because of my five year old son Georgie and are you blind cause at the moment I'm pregnant again. Two, I'm heading to work now Fred - argh!" I screamed when he stomped up grabbing me by my hair yanking me backwards until I elbow him in the face.

He stumbled backwards holding his nose while I spun around on my feet. "You bitch!"

"You don't want to fight me, Fred." I warned him, getting in a fighting stance with my hands into fists ready to go.

Yet the ranch hand refused my warning and came charging straight for me. He tackled me to the dirt before I could really blink. He was throwing punches at me but I was blocking most until he gave a harsh one to my belly and I released a cry of agony. "God damn!" I cursed curling up in a ball for a second with him getting to his feet.

"You need to remember who is stronger here, Dutton girl." He spat down to me.

Sniffing through some tears i glared at him until I swiped my feet underneath his near mine where he topped to the dust. Forcing myself to my feet I held my stomach with one hand landing a good punch on his nose with the other. Fred came back trying to kick my stomach yet I buried my face close against it so he kneed me in the face. My nose begins bleeding where he quickly grabbed my arm throwing me over his back until we heard my son's sweet voice. "Mommy, why are you wrestling?"

"You're boys gonna see how weak you are - ohhh fuck!" Fred groaned in serious pain onto his knees when I kicked him in between his legs giving me the chance to rush to my son.

Grabbing his shoulders I croaked through tears and some pain myself. "Georgie, go find daddy now. Bring him here." He ran off when Fred started getting up until I charged tackling the man even though it was harder when I was pregnant.

Swinging a few punches at Fred I got some of his blood on my knuckles. He grabbed my wrists twisting them behind my back throwing me down again. "I told you I was stronger than you, bitch!" He growled in my ear where he about kicks me in the stomach again until someone harshly shoved his body against the wooden barn stalls.

Gasping for breath and some relief I sat upright seeing my husband Rip had him by the collar where he threw him against the stall and then did it again but it was down in the dirt raising his voice. "What's the rule about fighting, Fred. You wanna fight somebody, come fight me. I'll fight you all damn day!"

"That girl done started it with her saying that she deserves the same pay as we do but cuts out half the work. I guess you'll believe anything when you married a whore." Fred coughed looking at me when Georgie came over by my side.

Rip yanked the guy by his jacket holding him against the wall where he almost couldn't breathe by the choke hold he had on the ranch hand. "What did you call her!"

"She's knows I'm right that's she had to send in the little guy to get the big guns." Fred taunts until my husband kicked him harshly in the gut and he collapsed into the dirt.

He grabbed Fred up one last time against the wall for good measure croaking his deep tone with the words he declared. "If you ever hit or speak to my wife like that again I'll kill you, Fred! Are you okay, Y/n?" He released him from his grasp coming slowly over to me with his gaze softening.

"I hurt a little bit...here especially. But otherwise I think I'll be fine." I mumbled placing my hand in his with my eyes dropping to my pregnant stomach where he tugged me up to stand where he picked me up bridal style when I almost collapsed onto the dirt not able to stand on my own.

He carried me back to our cabin with Georgie following us and opening the door to the cabin, then our bedroom and finally the bathroom. "Georgie, go grab one of my shirts and the shorts off the foot of the bed for mommy." Rip spoke towards our son who quickly came back with what he asked.

"Is mommy going to be okay, daddy?" He asked with worry in his sweet voice.

Rip sat me down on the toilet lowering himself to his knees since I didn't have gotten my balance back yet. "She will be. I want you to go play with grandpa John while I help mommy okay little man." He nodded leaving us alone in the bathroom letting silence into the room.

He slowly tugged on my shirt shrugging it over and off my body giving him perfect view of my belly. "I'm sorry he did this to you..to our baby. I'll take him to the train station tomorrow morning if that's what you want." He placed his on my bump feeling me slightly pull away when he touched the sorest part of my body from the fight.

"Rip, don't blame yourself for this. Fred has always been a jackass from the day my father hired him. I'll go to the doctor and get the baby checked out." Resting my hands on his shoulders I sent him a half smile knowing he would start blaming himself for me getting injured.

He nodded, helping me remove my pants and slide the shorts up. He ran a hand through my hair once I slipped his shirt on that was like a dress on me. "I love you so much, darling. He will never touch you again I swear it." He softly took me into his arms carrying me into the other room laying me down in the bed.

He climbed in on his side and I snuggled up into his warmth knowing he would leave to deal with the rancher when I went to sleep and rested. "I love you, Rip and so will this second child of ours." Whispering up into his brown eyes I intertwined our hands together closing my eyes letting sleep overtake me.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[smuttyworks]

The game - Mattheo Riddle x reader

Shmuttttt warnings - aggressive, swearing, and pretty hefty smut

summary - Reader has the most fun teasing who ever she wants, making them beg for her, and leaving them like that, but she really meets her match with Mattheo Riddle.

-

Mattheo sent a glare your way, and it only fed into your infatuation. You bit your lip and leaned over the long table in the great hall, staring him down as he looked back up from the book in front of him and now currently resided on the exposed cleavage of your undone blouse.

With an annoyed sigh, he swallowed down his words before saying something in front of the other slytherin group. “Why aren’t you studying? The test is coming up and I doubt you know all the potions on it.” Draco nudged you.

With an eye roll you sat down on the stool, “I’ll do fine, worry about yourself.” You nudged him back as you reached for your bag and stood up. “See you guys later.” You waved at the group, your eyes landing on Mattheo last, and you gave him a small smirk, knowing the others wouldn’t see it, but he sure would.

You had to hold in your giggles as you walked down the mostly empty great hall, seeing some other students studying as well. You continued your pace out of the doors and down the corridor towards the stairs, hoping to get a quick smoke break in from all the stress of this stupid test, one that you were confident you’d pass, but not sure by how much.

Once you pushed through the doors you felt the cold air nip your skin and it was refreshing. You took a deep breath in and scurried to your favourite smoke spot.

You pulled out your cigarettes and lit one, inhaling the smoke and finally feeling that relief you’d been waiting for all day. With your lungs full of smoke, your mind landed back on the curly haired brunette boy who always held a glare, one that could make you wet with a single deadly glance.

Mattheo Riddle, the one boy you were having the hardest time cracking, but you knew you were getting close, no matter what every boy gave in, most of them quicker than this… you had Draco practically begging for you after an hour of attention. 

It was fun, toying with them until they begged for your touch, your soft kiss… but you never gave them it. But its been days of accidental touches, showing off cleavage with your blouse buttons down, flirty looks, he still hasn’t broke. But with his growing annoyance for you, well more than usual at least, you knew he would, you just needed to apply more pressure in the right spots.

-

You met back with everyone in the common room and watched as Mattheo was looking through the books on the shelf. You stood up from your spot on the sofa chair and strolled over to him. 

“I just need to squeeze in for a second,” you whispered, reaching for one of the books his fingers grazed over and pressed your butt into his crotch, “Got it…” you smirked up at him, his brown eyes glaring down at you as you slid past him and made your way back to your chair, peeking over the random book you picked up and watching Mattheo as he looked at you angrily, a noticeable bulge in his pants as he hastily sat down on the sofa a few feet in front of you.

Your mouth watered at the sight before you as he hid his erection with a book. You were so close, he would break just like the others…

Theodores laughter echoed around the Slytherin common room as they all looked through the potions on the tables behind your chair. And with a quick peek to make sure they weren’t paying any attention your way, you turned back to Mattheo with your lip between your teeth, and your legs spreading slowly.

His eyes fell to between your skirt and his lips parted slightly. You watched in awe as you knew he was putty in your hands. Mattheo’s head fell back but his eyes never looked away from between your legs.

Adrenaline filled your body like it always had when you finally broke your target, but somehow Mattheo making you work so hard for it was the most excitement from all of them. You dropped one of your hands from the book as you hiked up your skirt slightly, exposing your soaking purple panties to him.

Mattheo gulped and brought his fist to his lips, and that’s when you decided it was enough. A smirk covered your lips as you closed your legs and crossed them, your hand pulling down your skirt. He just glared at you, far angrier than usual, and that excited you. 

-

“Night guys,” you waved back to Theodore and Draco as they returned to the dorm rooms full of yawns. You smiled to yourself as you pushed the book back onto the shelf, humming to yourself quietly. 

But a yelp escaped your lips as you were pressed roughly into the shelf, a hand tangled in your hair painfully. “This what you wanted?” Mattheo’s voice whispered in your ear. You cried out at the pain from your scalp and the pressure of your body against the shelf.

“Mattheo?!” you gasped, “W-what are you doing?” 

“Im giving you exactly what you wanted,” he chuckled in your ear before biting your lobe, causing you to cry out. “And don’t worry, I put a spell on the room… no one can hear us.” He laughed, his hand roughly squeezing your breast through your clothes.

You didn’t know what to do, you didn’t think he would go this far after you pushed him. “Mattheo-“ you whined, but he spun you around and pushed your back against the bookshelf, your back stinging at the pain of the shelves.

“Shut the fuck up.” He spat, inches away from your face. And you listened, fear filling your body, but arousal took over. “Understand?” he breathed, his eyes staring into yours.

You nodded and just stayed completely still as his hands traveled up your body, over the curves of your breasts until he stopped at the skin exposed of your chest, and with his eyes glancing into both your eyes until he tore apart your blouse, the buttons hitting the floor all over the room.

Mattheo’s eyes dropped down to your bralette, and he effortlessly ripped the thin fabric of it. “Tell me, is this what you wanted?” he whispered, his warm breath on your bare chest causing your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.

You swallowed, “Yes.” You breathed, “I just didn’t think you had the balls to actually take me… no one ever does.” 

His hand quickly gripped your neck and held you in place, “And no one ever will,” he glared, “you’re mine now, sweetheart… I hope you know what you got yourself into.” Mattheo’s other hand slid up your bare leg and between your skirt, his fingers inching away from your soaked panties that were on display for him only less than an hour ago.

His fingers pressed against your clothed clit, the pressure causing a moan to escape your lips as you widened your legs further, giving him more access as he rubbed light circles over the sensitive bud. “Mattheo…” you moaned, your hands holding onto his forearm as he held you up by your neck still, not hard enough to restrict breathing, but forceful enough to keep you up against the bookshelf.

He chuckled and leaned his forehead against yours, whispering your name with that smile on his face, that smile you didn’t see too often, but the smile that aroused you to no end.

His slim fingers alone were enough to get you so close, but as quickly as it came, it all went away when he pulled his hand away. You whined as he dropped his hand from your neck, but he then grabbed your arm roughly and pulled you towards the sofa. You watched him as he slipped the torn fabric of your blouse and bralette down your arms and threw them across the room.

“On your knees.” He whispered, his head tilting slightly. 

His fingers lightly caressed your cheek and the hot and cold from his rough touches to his soft ones had your head spinning, Mattheo Riddle had you on your toes at all time, and this was the most fun you had since coming to Hogwarts.

Without another second pass, you slowly dropped to your knees, your eyes never leaving his as you anticipated his neck moves… but then you stopped and decided you wanted the control again. 

Your hands darted to his bent and quickly undid it, trying to hide the how shaky they were. But you undid his black pants and pulled them down along with his dark boxer briefs, his hard dick now exposed.

Mattheo groaned and his fingers found your hair again, holding you tightly as he took back his control and pulled you to him, your mouth widening to accommodate for his large size. His soft, warm tip pushed past your lips and he moaned at the pleasure, your tongue brushed against the bottom of his dick as he slid fully in your mouth.

“So pretty with my dick in your mouth.” He breathed, his eyes watching your every move as he slid in and out of your mouth, the taste of his pre cum driving you feral. Your hands gripped his thighs as you sucked his dick. 

You cried out when his hold on your hair tightened, but the sound came out muffled, his strong hands guiding you faster and deeper with every stroke. “This little game of yours… its over,” he breathed, staring down at you with his lips parted, “you’re mine now.” His tongue brushed over his lips lightly.

When you didn’t make a sound in agreement, he pulled your hair and disconnected your mouth from him, to which you immediately nodded, “Yes Mattheo, I promise.” You swallowed, drool dripping down your chin.

He smirked down at you, “Good girl.”

You gushed at his words, your panties now almost dripping in arousal. Mattheo lifted you by your arms and kicked off his clothes, then motioned for you to go to the table that the others were using to study at not to long ago, causing a blush to rise on your cheeks.

You did as he said and looked down at the table, then without warning Mattheo spun you around and lifted you to sit on the table, then crashed his lips to yours. You moaned into his mouth as his hard dick pressed against your crotch. 

His hands slid down your bare waist and down the sides of your pleated skirt, then he slowly ran his cool hands up your bare thighs until he reached the hem of your panties, and with a little help from you lifting your hips off the table, he slid your panties down.

He pulled away from the kiss and eyed your body, “Didn’t think anyone would claim you like this, now did you?” he breathed, clearly amused with how easily he had you now as putty in his own grip.

Before you could say anything, though you didn’t know if you could say anything… he dropped down to his knees, his head between your parted legs and his warm breath on your glistening core.

“Mattheo-“ you were cut off when his lips attacked your clit, his tongue working wonders on your sensitive bud, “Oh my god!” you cried out, not use to the magical sensation. Your head flew back as his finger entered you, pushing in and out at a deadly fast pace.

You couldn’t contain the moans as he added a second finger, stretching you to soon accommodate his dick, the excitement filled your body as you took in the realization of what was happening. Mattheo Riddle was on his knees for you as he pleasured you like no other, nothing anyone has ever had the balls to do before, not like this.

“Cum on my face, baby.” He whispered against your skin, his voice edging you closer and closer to your release, something you wondered If he would actually let you do, considering the agonizing torture you had put him through the past few days…

“Mattheo, I-I-I’m so close,” you moaned out, tangling your fingers through his soft brunette curls. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you completely undoing, your head falling back as you cried out profanities along with his name.

Mattheo wasted no time connecting his lips to yours, his tongue dominating yours as you tasted your juices from his lips. “Mine.” He stated, cupping your cheek, and positioning himself at your entrance.

“Yours.” You affirmed, and with that he pushed himself fully inside you, no warnings, just his moans filling your mouth mixed with your cries. His dick filling you up more than you could have ever expected.

His brows furrowed in pleasure as he took in your expressions. “So perfect.” He breathed, cupping your cheek softly, something you never imagined he could be capable of.

His other hand pressed down on your chest and you laid flat on the table, Mattheo watching your chest bounce with every hard thrust, his hands gripping either side of your waist to pull you in to meet his movement, further increasing the pleasure you both shared.

“You feel so good,” you moaned, gripping the sides of the table.

“Fuck, baby… you have me so close already.” He breathed, pleasure covering his face, and that only turned you on more and more, knowing your body could cause so much pleasure for him was an amazing feeling, as him knowing his body could have you crying his name out was a proud feeling for Mattheo as well.

You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy, and you knew he was close to coming undone. And with you moaning his name once more, pleasure engulphed his body, as his strong orgasm rose out you could feel him shoot his cum inside of you, something you had also never experienced before and was now definitely a new favourite of yours.

“Fuck…” he breathed, pulling your body up as he held you against his bare chest, both your breathing heavy against one another. He looked down at you and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “I lied about spelling the room by the way.”

You gasped and pushed back slightly to face him.

“Everyone heard you screaming my name.” 

[angelisverba]

achilles heel

in which y/n gets herself into another precarious situation and wants her dealer to help her, and harry can’t help but feel conflicted about how much he wants her

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

warning: bad trip! peer pressure, drug coercion, drugs, mentions of bullying, sexual content!

author’s note: there aren’t any facts to back up the use of any kind of sexual enhancers, so much of this experience is improvised and not actually something that would happen irl in terms of science. love you! 

Two slow, torturously long weeks pass- one in which he was out of business entirely trying to stock his inventory up again- before he hears from her again. In the middle of the night, it’s beginning to become a pattern for them. He only hopes that this time, it’s not for an asshole group of people.

His bohemian dream of a room is upturned, messy, as he’s been a grump about not seeing her. There’s shirts strewn everywhere, his bed is a rumpled mess and he wishes that it were because he had sex in it instead of restlessly sleeping. He’s coming out of the shower with a white towel low on his hips. There are clouds of thick steam coming out from his open bathroom door and while a majority is from the hot water he hoped would soothe his tense body, there's a bit of thicker, headier smoke from the skinny spliff he hotboxed while in the tub. 

And it hadn’t worked for shit. Because he was still cranky, still restless. His fingers were itching to do something, and if he hadn’t just smoked weed, he would be in his garage, throwing around weights like a madman to try and get himself tired. Sadly, he wasn’t even fucking horny, so jerking off wasn’t an option. 

Sidestepping his sweatpants by the edge of his bed, Harry grips the thick of the fabric at his crotch and reaches for a pair of clean underwear from a drawer at his bedside table, furrows his eyebrows at the box of condoms stashed in there, and pull on white boxers. He throws the towel at the end of his bed and lays back with his arms splayed wide, sighing dramatically. He felt deeply sorry for himself. 

Y/n was probably never going to talk to him again because the last few times they had seen each other, Harry was a complete dick to her, acting every bit like the asshole drug dealer that had a criminal reputation. God, the girl was probably scared of him. He fucked his all-

Ping!

This phone went off with a notification. The same tone he had assigned her, and Harry’s body lurched off the bed. His arms swept the expanse of his bed, ruffling his duvet in search of the device. 

Ping!

It went off again, and the urgency in which he was searching increased. Where the fuck was his-

He found it when it thunked onto the floor, and with shaking hands, he unlocked it. 

Y/n: Hi, Harry! 

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

Of course he is. Always, for her. But he didn’t type that back, obviously. He had to be cool.

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

The gray dots appear instantly, and he gets another text shortly after. 

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

He had been to a frat party earlier in the day in which a group of senior guys had taken some pot brownies off his hands. Before confirming with her, he double-checks his inventory on the notes app folder  he has just to keep track of stock. 

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

Should he have added a smiley face? No, that would have been creepy right?.... 

Y/n: Perfect :D ! I’ll take five, please! 

Harry: No problem. Can I have the address, please?

She sends it not even a minute later. All concerns regarding driving a vehicle while high unethically fly out of his mind because honestly, he wasn’t even high anymore. Not even feeling it. She was only twenty minutes away, ten if he didn’t pay attention to laws.

Harry: I’m On my way! 

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes. 

And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 

He didn’t realize it until the houses started looking nice and the parked cars on the side of the street started getting more expensive than the address she had provided him with was one on the wealthier side of town. He knew of a guy that lived here who everyone talked about because his method of acquiring money was sketchier than Harry’s, and well… that said a lot given that Harry sold drugs for a living.

The end of the driveway that he parks on is wide enough to be a two-way street. One of the lights flickered on by the motion sensor as Harry took his helmet out and shook his hair back. In his rush to get here, he hadn’t put on a shirt, and with his leather jacket left unzipped, his tattoos were on full display. The moonlight gleamed on the ridges of his abdomen, casting shadows across the markings on his skin. He was warm despite the chill in the air, and the cool drift of the night wind on his muscles was a welcome feeling. 

Harry just didn’t realize how… devilish he looked. He appeared every bit the bad boy ready to sweep you off your feet in the summer, and the serious expression on his face added to the mystery. Wondering if this time she was able to hear his motorcycle from deep inside wherever she was in that mansion of the house, Harry kicked his stand down, hung his helmet on the handlebar, and took his phone out to let her know he was here.

Harry: I’m outside

Grey bubbles pop-up, squiggling like a little wave. And then…

Y/n: Be right there!

All of the breath in his lungs vacates his chest, and he gets warmer than he already was. Pacing the short lengths of his motorcycle, he wonders how he may get more nervous to see her every time he sees her. He never used to be this way, not even with a girl he wanted to talk up at a bar. There was a confidence within him, this shine that sprouted from knowing that he knew he was the shit, and he was going to use that to his advantage, to make a girl blush and stutter. Instead, she was the one to turn him inside out. He forgot all about basic manners around her. He forgot how to smile without questioning if his smile was wonky. He thought-

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 

Coming from the front door, y/n is a wispy, gauzy mirage. Her feet are wobbly, and there’s a glass tumbler in her hand with a toothpick-skewered olive. She’s smiling so brightly at him, and this unrestricted happiness at his appearance alarms him. Where is the timid girl who speaks to him with a voice barely above a whisper? She must be drunk he thinks. 

An itchy feeling he can’t shake off overcomes him because the girl is wearing a lacy slip dress that is so sheer, he can see her pink undergarments underneath. A white cardigan slides off her shoulders and hangs on to her elbow like a satin bow slipping loosely from a gift. He can’t decide if he wants to tie her back up or unravel her. 

She runs the last few steps to him, and either she miscalculates her stop, or trips on a pebble because suddenly, she’s in his arms and he’s holding her upright. And he’s also breathing heavily because a rush of blood has made its way down to his cock and he knows she can see it pressing through his jeans and against her belly if the way her eyes go round is any indication. 

Her drink slips from her hand, and shatters at their feet. The loud scattering of glass makes her jump, and an apology is clumsily stumbling from her mouth while she tries to pull herself from his embrace. Harry, however, tightens his hold. His fingers squeeze at her waist, and through the lace of her dress, he can feel the overlapping fabric of her panties. Without saying anything, he lifts her and takes a few steps to the side before setting her down away from the hazard. 

“What-” her brows furrow, and her head tilts to the side. She isn’t rushing out of his arms now.

Interrupting her, Harry explains, “y’were about to step on the glass.” 

“Oh,” y/n is back to whispering as her eyes travel all over his face, “thank you.”

With her in his arms, Harry has forgotten how to act. His mind is blank as a sheet of paper, and his lungs are expanding and contracting but oxygen isn’t really reaching him because he smells something sweet combined with alcohol on her warm breath. He sees how y/n’s facial expressions resemble that of a guppy fish, and he realizes that maybe he should let her go but he can’t because… because her fingers are shifting around his arms and she’s kind of shifting her weight and writhing and Harry still has a fucking boner so this is all-

He steps back, observing her shiver, and clears his throat. “Of course. Are you…are you cold?”

“Cold?” she asks. Her voice is silvery like the incantation of a church bell and he wants to fall to his knees are revere her, to beg for forgiveness, for her to cleanse him of all his sins. The night air has turned him into some kind of animal, he decides. The moon has transformed him into the hungry, howling wolf who will only be silenced by knowing her in the most carnal way. Meeting under the blanket of darkness has decided their fate. 

“You’re shivering,” he states, voices unwavering and factual. That confidence he was missing before has somehow found its way back. Like tectonic plates, the tension has shifted in his favor. Harry gathers the courage to fix the cardigan on her shoulders. 

His hands graze the cool skin of her biceps, and he doesn’t miss the way she textures with evidence of her intimidation. The way her breath stops altogether and he mumbles under his breath, “Just fixing y’up, darling. Y’can breathe, m’not gonna bite,” and she drops her arms at her side to let him help her, and then…

He feels the thin, sharp glide of her fingernails at his sternum. How can a single touch be so erotic? His jeans are too tight over his bulge, and fighting a groan, he exhales deeply, looking up at her to find her eyes droopy, staring at his butterfly tattoo. Her mouth moves around the shape of pretty before her eyes flicker up at him. They both freeze. Prey and predator, caught before the deadly pounce. 

But y/n breaks their eye contact. 

Harry drags the fabric up so it sits properly on her shoulders, and slides his fingers down to the front, so he can begin with the first button. His fingers drag unnecessarily like syrup on the skin right above her slip, and her audible gulp along with her choked, thank you check him back into his manners. She might have toyed with him, albeit unknowingly, but he welcomed it. He doubted that she was 100% sure if she wanted that reciprocated, so he stopped. As much as it hurt him to do so, he stopped.

At the last button, he reluctantly steps back, “All done, don’t want to get sick now, do you?” 

And he manages a smile. It’s small, with just a bit of a cocky gap between his lips to white teeth. His hands slip into his front pockets, pulling his jeans forward subtly to give his dick some breathing room. He feels branded where she touched him, that sliver of skin hot with burning desire. Visions of them together flash behind his eyes like bits of a dream he’s trying hard to remember.

“You’re right,” she mumbles, “thank you.” Y/n wraps her arm around herself and can't seem to make eye contact with him.

The rational side of him that’s drowning in his tunnel vision reminds him that he’s there to do something (deliver drugs), so he moves around to the compartment and pulls out the paper bag. This time, it’s decorated in a field of smiling, dancing daisies sprouting from the bottom of the bag. “Here are your brownies,” giving her the bag, he laments that he’s going to have to leave her soon. 

“How much do I owe you?” Y/n blinks up at him like she’s just barely waking up. Like she’s trying hard to stay focused, just like him. But that would be silly, Harry thinks, because there’s no way they share the same feelings. She only touched him because she’s drunk, or tipsy, and he’s just a drug dealer, and no matter how much of a boner he has for her, his dreams of rutting over her like a dog in heat aren’t going to come true. She’s too delicate for him.

He feels shitty taking money from her, but that is his livelihood, and chances were the douchebags buying from her probably threw more money at her than necessary given how rich they were. So, he tells her the total, and he hands him- just like he expected- crisp bills.

“Thank you,” he says, taking the money from her and shoving it into his compartment. His legs make no move to straddle his bike, even though that’s what his brain tells them to do. They’re not really listening to him though. And y/n stands them holding the bag, staring at the shattered glass and worrying her lip between her teeth. She’s not in any rush to get back inside, so Harry asks her a question- something that’s been on his mind ever since he left her the last time- to keep her out a little longer, “h-how was it? Last time, I mean. Smoking with those people?”

The girl straightens at the memory, suddenly energized. “Oh! I didn’t actually do it. They tried to get me to, but I didn’t in the end.” 

Jerking his chin towards the bag in her hand, “Do y’plan on eating some of these?” 

Y/n shakes her head, “Not really, I have work tomorrow. So does everyone else but,” she shrugs, pursing her lips a little and looks over her shoulder at the house. The relatively quiet house. “I already drank a little more than I should have.” 

“I see.” Nodding, he’s left with no other choice but to reach for his helmet to put it back on. It’s time to leave. For the life of him, he can’t seem to figure out why such a sweet girl would continue to choose to hang out with people like this. Who drink and do drugs recklessly. He was concerned for her safety, and he made a mental note to ask Mitch about it. He wasn’t anyone to tell her what to do. 

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 

“Well, be safe, okay? Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you,” and she waves at him with a small, shy smile. The cardigan is already slipping off her shoulder even though it was buttoned up, and she turns around to walk back into the house.

Harry’s finally gotten to dozing off when his phone rings. 

Blindly, he slaps his hand around and curses whoever is on the other end of the line for interrupting his maladaptive dreaming about y/n. He got home grumpy, slamming doors behind him and stomping around his own home. Feeling sorry for himself, he had turned on his Sade playlist and allowed her smoky voice to lull him to sleep. Creases had decorated the space between his thick brows, his pink lips literally turned upside down and occasionally he mumbled curse words at himself. In effort to relieve his own stress, he turned on a lavender candle, and it burned dimly on his bedside. 

“Yeah?” He rasps sleepily into the phone, annoyance dripping from his voice. 

There’s a couple of sniffles on the other end. This gets his attention, his eyes snapping open as his ears strain to listen, and then, “H-Harry?” 

Was he still dreaming? Harry bolted upright from his bed, dragging a hand over his face. Was that actually y/n’s weepy, crying voice leaking through his speaker? He recognized the normally sweet voice, but instead of shy and timid, it was shaky and sad… maybe even a little panicked. 

“Y/n?” Harry asked, spiking up in volume as a million-and-one scenario of her in danger played out in his mind. “What’s wrong?” 

She hiccuped, “I-I was- Everyone was- They gave me a piece and said I should- But I didn’t want to and they- I don’t-” The poor girl was making no sense, and couldn’t seem to keep track of her thoughts, whether it be because she was too frazzled, or her irregular sobs stole the rest of her sentences and she would start new. The fact that he has just woken up, remnants of sleep leaving him more and more by the second, didn’t help either. He had to get her to calm down somehow. 

“Sweetheart,” He interjected, repeating the endearment twice before she stopped talking long enough for him to get his word in. “ Listen to me… Take a deep breath, listen to my voice.” 

Y/n made a long, keening noise, and something stirred his gut like the whirls of dark waters in turbulent seas. This wasn’t normal. She wasn’t herself, which only left one thing, “I’m trying but my skin feels weird and-” 

She was having a bad trip. 

Those fuckers have coerced her into taking something, whether it be the brownies he sold her, or some other drugs they had in the house. Y/n had taken drugs against her will, and she was stuck in a place where she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with anyone there because these were the same people that bullied her at her workplace. The situation she was in, and the simple fact that they did not respect when she said no made his blood boil. He felt like a caged cat, pacing back and forth, tail swiping low on the ground. 

But his next thought cowed him.

If the drugs she had consumed were his brownies, did that mean he was partially to blame? He was responsible for there being something to press on her, to begin with, wasn’t he? He delivered them into her hands, which she then transferred to her party, and they turned it around on her. Harry was at the start of all of this. 

He sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, swallowing back the sour taste that started at the back of his mouth and twisted his chest. Pushing all of it aside, he focused on her, “I know darling, I know. Close y’eyes. S’gonna be okay, y/n. Close your eyes.”

Rough, uneven breaths reverberated through his speaker, and he realized she was trying to calm herself. Harry wanted to scream and punch something. This is his fault. She was having a bad trip because of him. There were times when he was feeling generous and upped the milligram ingredient in his pastries, and he can’t remember if he did that this time but regardless, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt he’s ever felt this guilty. He could have said no, when she texted him. Or not respond at all. But he was selfish and wanted to see her. This is where his selfishness got him.

“M’kay.” She responds a little more sure, but it isn’t enough for him. He started this mess, now he has to fix it. He gets out of bed again, in such a rush that his duvet ends up strewn on the floor, and he reaches to tug his recklessly discarded jeans over his long legs. He yanks a burgundy knit sweater that he finds- also on the floor- but he’s not cold. He’s sweating with anxiety, and the sweater was just for her benefit. What if y/n is cold again? Harry has to be better not, he can’t fuck up with her anymore like this. He was going to take it off again as soon as he saw her and be shirtless again with his leather jacket. 

 With the device pressed between his shoulder and ear, he buttoned up his pants and shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he found, “Y’got your eyes closed f’me?”

“Yes, Harry,” she whimpers again, sounding so unsure, so small, and fuck, the crack down the middle of his heart grows. Closing your eyes while high was scary, especially if you were having a bad trip, Harry knows that having a handful of negative experiences himself, but it was the one thing he could think of right now. To get her to focus on his voice rather than anything going on around her. Wherever she was. 

“Good girl. Now just listen to me, okay,” walking out of his room, he swiped his keys off his kitchen counter, and snagged his leather jacket from -surprise, surprise- off the floor right before entering the garage, “Where are you right now?”

“I’m… I think I’m in a bathroom,” y/n peeps a response. 

“Alright, good. Good, sweetheart. Now how much did you take?” Putting the jacket on, Harry turns the key in the ignition and straddles his bike. He presses the button he keeps on his keys for the garage door, and walks his bike out. The street lamps in his neighborhood are on, illuminating patches of the concrete like polka dots. 

There’s some noise in the background. It sounds like knocking and the call of her name. “M’not sure… maybe… maybe half? They’re knocking on the door, Harry.” 

She’s so scared. For the first time, he realizes that she doesn’t trust anyone there. That’s why she was calling him. If there was, she would be resting her head in their lap, and talking things out with them. That’s what you do when you’re high. And this was her first fucking time doing any kind of drug? They made her take more than what she was supposed to. 

“All at once? Don’t listen to them, sweetheart, focus on me.” This time, the timbre of his voice is livid. He didn’t take kindly to these kinds of things, and he was going to find some way to get back at all of them. 

“Yeah, I took a bite only but Alana said I would be a party pooper if I didn’t eat more, so I did because everyone was watching.” There’s more noise, yelling. The knocking gets louder.

“Fuck!” Slapping his hand against his helmet, Harry tilts his head back and wills himself to calm down. He couldn’t drive like this. 

She gasps, startled, “Did I do something wrong? Oh my God, am I going to die? Harry, am I-”

“Shh, no. No, y/n. Everything is going to be fine. I’m on my way, okay. Everything is going to be fine. Can you set a timer for eight minutes on your phone, and walk outside when it rings?” He nears the end of his driveway, shaking his head at his lack of restraint. He had to hold it together for her.

“Yeah,” she responds.

“Perfect, I’ll be right there. I’m coming to get you, okay?” He’s firm in his delivery, so she doesn’t have any reason to doubt him. 

“Okay…” her single-word answer drags out, and he waits for her to say more. “Do you have to hang up?”

“I do, darling. My motorcycle helmet doesn’t have a Bluetooth mouthpiece, so I won’t be able to hear you. It’s only eight minutes, I promise.” He decides not to pay attention to how easily the endearment terms are rolling off his tongue, and to the sure-ness in his sternum that was missing at the start of their meetings. 

“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 

He doesn’t say bye, because it isn’t one. “I’ll see you in a little bit.” 

***

On his five (FIVE!!!) minute drive to y/n, full of felonies and annoyed car horns, Harry decides two things. One, owning a motorcycle is probably the best decision he’s ever made because it allows him to do things like this, and two, he’s come to the conclusion that he no longer cares for social formalities, and he’s going to… honor his cravings as long as y/n lets him. He knows that the moment he gets there, he’s going to want to coddle her, tug her to his side, and hide her inside his jacket as much as he could, like a bear with food in the winter. Besides, it wouldn’t be so bad to provide the feeling of safety if she needed it. In fact, he was eager to. He decides that just for today, it’s okay. 

Because he gets there three minutes earlier than the time he told her, so even though he doesn’t have to, he rushes to park his bike, swinging off of it before it’s even rolled to a complete stop and jogging up the long driveway to wait by some bushes near the window. He was partially obscured from the front door, and he wanted to stay that way in case Y/n wasn’t the first person to walk out. 

Sweat coated the back of his neck while the rest of him was ice cold. Looking each and every way, he took off his jacket and slipped off the knit sweater to slip it over her head as soon as he could. Harry listened intently, the ragged sound of his own breathing filling his ears as he tried to pick up on any noise that might indicate trouble, but all he heard was faint chattering and the occasional bout of loud, loopy chortles. 

Momentarily after, those voices get louder, some of them aggressive, and there are sounds of movement. The heavy pattern of feet moving quickly, the scratch of furniture on the floor. Someone- a female- is asking where someone is going, and Harry knows it’s y/n. Running to the door, he makes it just as it swings open, and a very red-eyed y/n stands there, one hand on the door with her eyes on the floor. She’s mumbling, something over and over, and he thinks one of those words is his name. 

He’s reaching out to encase her in his arms when she blinks a few times, slowly, like she's just waking up, and her eyes are dragging up her body to register his face. 

Tilting her head to the side confusedly, she steps out, closes the door behind her, and mumbles, “Harry’s waiting for me.” 

His heart melts and he feels the bursting of a thousand suns in his chest. Smiling down at her invertebrate state, with his eyes softening and a gentle caramel-like baritone streaming through the rough in his voice, “I’m here, darling. Come with me.” 

Poor thing is so out of it, her eyes start to water, her chin trembling and her shoulders beginning to shake with the rattles of oncoming sobs. Had he spooked her? Her eyes were puffy and hooded, but he knows that doesn’t mean she can’t see him. Y/n is probably just overwhelmed, he thinks. She’s out in the dark and cold, high, and he’s a tall, scary figure looming over her. Voices inside are getting closer, their sentences running over each other so that he can’t really understand what they’re saying, only that they sound upset. 

Ignoring the rumble that is bound to get to them, Harry kneels down to her level and takes hold of her cold trembling hands in his large ones, bringing them to his chest to get her to focus on him, “lovie, s’me,” he pleads for her to recognize him, “I’m Harry, I came f’you like I said I would, y/n.” 

“Y/n!” A man inside, short and skinny but snooty looking with a sharp, shark-like face stalks towards them. His parade of three- two blonde girls and a dark-haired guy- follow behind him. They all have glasses in their hands. One of them had a cigarette. “What are you doing?”

At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.

“Baby-” 

“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.” 

They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds. 

“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants. 

With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.” 

Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike. 

All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.

“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.” 

“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip. 

They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly. 

“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”

“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”

He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers. 

Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down. 

“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.” 

“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”  

“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”

“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest.  “And you really think so?” 

“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him.  “Come sit behind me, love.” 

Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat. 

“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.” 

“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition. 

“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.

“Yes.” 

She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.

*** 

“Who were those people?” 

It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry. 

He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him),  shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies. 

Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.” 

So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.

He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her. 

Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone. 

Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”

“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”

Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool,  but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie,  “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”

With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?” 

“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him. 

Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her. 

Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy. 

What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts. 

“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”

There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled.  Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.” 

“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants. 

“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad. 

Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table. 

Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype. 

“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.” 

Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?” 

Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”

“Where will you sleep?”

He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.” 

“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed. 

“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.” 

“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m

He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.” 

Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?” 

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room.  “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Y/n nods, “Okay.” 

The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 

Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.

And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.

Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what. 

He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.” 

A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken. 

“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped. 

Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.” 

“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”

“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.” 

Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…” 

Realization dawned on in. 

No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac. 

Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny. 

“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him,  “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.” 

Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.” 

It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do. 

If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions. 

He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”

Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked. 

“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes.  “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.” 

Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?” 

 “I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him. 

Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.” 

Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.” 

Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.” 

Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.” 

“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around. 

“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and… 

And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy. 

“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles. 

Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear,  “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?” 

Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace. 

Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold.  Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it. 

“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?” 

She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”

“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,”  Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?” 

He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her. 

“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants. 

“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her. 

He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white. 

“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”

“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers. 

Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”

“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth. 

He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths. 

“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”

“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly. 

“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving. 

The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion. 

Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.” 

She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”

“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him. 

“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go. 

With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky. 

“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”

Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”

“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”

“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting. 

“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short. 

Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”

“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”

Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”

“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him. 

“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.” 

There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”

“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times. 

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?” 

“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness. 

“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”

“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after. 

“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”

“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies. 

“Does it, baby?” 

“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat. 

“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them. 

“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth. 

Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-” 

“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.” 

Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…

But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much. 

“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.” 

Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips. 

So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face. 

They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them. 

“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms. 

[colormepurplex2]

Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart

A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.

A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.

Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.

The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”

Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.

He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”

That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.

His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.

As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.

You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.

“Do you paint?”

The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.

“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.

The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.

“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”

Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.

“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”

Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.

You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.

“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.

Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”

He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.

“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”

It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.

“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.

“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”

“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.

“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”

Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.

You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.

Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”

If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”

Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”

“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.

“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.

Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.

The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?

“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”

“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”

It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.

“Here is fine.”

“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”

“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”

“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”

“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”

“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.

Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.

☕☕☕

Yoongi

In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.

“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”

The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.

To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.

Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.

The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.

The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 

Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”

And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.

“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.

“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”

Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”

“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”

As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.

He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.

The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.

Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.

Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.

That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.

Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”

Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?

He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”

“I’m fine as long as you are.”

He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.

“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.

“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.

“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.

He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.

☕☕☕

Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.

At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.

It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.

There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.

The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”

“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”

Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”

You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.

“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.

You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.

“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”

Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”

“You’ve spoken with the owner?”

“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”

“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.

“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”

“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?

You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.

“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.

You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.

“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”

His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.

Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.

Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.

“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”

Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”

“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.

It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.

“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”

You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”

“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.

He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”

You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”

“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.

“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”

“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”

“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”

You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”

The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.

“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.

“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”

Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”

“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”

You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”

Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.

Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.

“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.

The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”

“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”

That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.

“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”

“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.

“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.

Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.

Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.

As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.

“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”

Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”

“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”

“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.

“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.

Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”

You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”

It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.

The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.

“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”

His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.

“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”

Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.

In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.

Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.

“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.

Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.

Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.

When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.

Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.

You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.

He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.

“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.

“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.

Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.

You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.

“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”

“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”

You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”

“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.

“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”

“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.

“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.

“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.

Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.

It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.

“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.

His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.

You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.

“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.

Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.

“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.

Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.

“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.

“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.

It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”

“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”

You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.

“Fuck,” you whimper.

Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.

His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.

The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”

Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.

You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.

“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”

“Too soon to say?” he prompts.

You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”

“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2023-12-30 ColorMePurplex2

[paradiseismine]

Twice as wet - Mike Wheeler x reader

Part 1/2.

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x f!reader

Warnings: slight NSFW, but tasteful I swear ok bye

It was a hot summer’s day, but not as hot as you. Your hair was shinier than ever and your smile was to die for, after all. Your confidence in your body had increased in the last year or so, and ever since you moved to Hawkins a month ago, it had sky rocketed, for some reason. You had just turned 18 and were ready to meet some cute guys.

Just not today.

Your mom had hired some neighbourhood kid to mow the lawn, and told you to stay home all afternoon to pay him afterwards, since she would be out to run some errands. So you sat on your couch, bored in a bikini and a pair of your shortest shorts, unable to jump in the backyard pool until that damn boy’s arrival.

At 1 p.m. sharp, your doorbell rang. You walked to the door and opened it gently.

- Uh, hello, are-are you y/n? - The boy asked, his head slightly tilted down so he would look you in the eyes. Man, was he TALL.

- Hi, that’s me - you smiled sweetly, trying to remember his name - and you’re… Michael, right? My mom told me to wait for you.

- Yes, that’s right… You can call me Mike, though - he scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, licking his lips.

That really got your attention. You examined his face for a second. His perfect jet black hair, his fair skin, plump red lips, delicate little freckles… Ugh. He’s so beautiful. Your lips cracked open as you wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. It was nearly a trance.

- So uh, should I get started on the lawn? - he grinned, shyly.

- Oh, yes - you said, as your eyes shot wide open, breaking that trance. - Sure. Come, I’ll show you where everything is.

You showed him around the garden and the garage: where the lawn mower was, how it worked and the area he needed to mow: your front yard first, and then the backyard, just around the pool. You tried to keep your cool and be normal about it, hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring when he arrived.

But he did. Mike Wheeler had been 18 for a few months right now, and he couldn’t believe such a pretty girl would check him out like that. He also tried to keep his cool, of course. He needed those summer jobs to afford a new guitar, and wouldn’t risk doing anything to displease you.

After the front yard was done, Mike circled around the house and got to the backyard - just to see you sunbathing near the pool.

Fuck, she’s perfect, he thought, as you got up and turned around, giving him a good look of your figure. What he wasn’t expecting, though, is that you jumped in the water a few seconds later.

As you emerged from the water, your hair darker and your eyes slightly squinted because of the sun, he couldn’t help but also notice all the little water droplets that were dripping from your face to your chest.

He was definitely checking you out. Ugh, thank God, you thought. Finally a cute boy I can obsess over. Because of course, you wouldn’t obsess over anyone who wasn’t obsessed with you too. As the work was all done, he put the lawn mower back on its place and walked over to you.

- Thank you so much, darling - you said, batting your eyelashes at him, your legs dangling from the edge of the pool. - There’s a red envelope on the fridge with your payment. I guess you could grab it later…

- Later? - he said, confused.

- Yes, after a little swim with me… in here - you said, smiling as if you had just offered him a drink of water.

Mike chuckled. He was definitely taking a sip.

- I mean… c-can I? - he asked, just in case.

- Of course, i got plenty of towels you could dry off with later… my mom won’t mind, she’s not coming back home until, at least, 7 p.m… What do you say?

Mike smiled at you as he yanked his shirt from the back of his neck. Just that single movement already made your insides twitch. Oh, that boy was in for a treat.

As he took off his pants and sneakers, you simply watched, no longer worrying about getting caught staring at him. He sat down next to you on the edge of the pool, his cheeks a bit red. Maybe from the sun, maybe from shyness.

You leaned in to kiss him, there was no point in waiting. He kissed you back softly, his hands grabbing your waist gently, as if he was afraid to scare you off. You were so pretty, he couldn’t believe it. Your right hand reached for his face, caressing it lightly, as you held his arm with your left hand and slowly guided him to actually enter the pool, so you would both stand up in it. Now your bodies were touching, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your heart beating out of your chest as you grabbed a fistful of his perfect hair and scratched his back with your nails, now fully making out with him.

He reached for your thighs and brought you up to his waist, intensifying your lust. You wrapped your legs around him, holding yourself in place, as his hands slowly left your butt after a few good grips. You had never been so grateful for that pool.

Mike Wheeler had the biggest boner of his life. His underwear was white and now completely wet, plus he had a hard-on - great. What if you were offended by it? Was that uncalled for? Those questions left his brain the second your soft hand reached down under the water.

Damn, that boy was packing some heat down there. He jumped out of his skin with your touch, at first, but melted into it a second later.

- I know you’re kissing me in the pool just to get me twice as wet - you said, chuckling, as your foreheads were touching. - But maybe we should continue this on dry land.

- Sure, whatever you want, princess - he said, enchanted by you.

- Whatever I want, huh? - you put your arms around his neck, tilting your head to the side. - That’s good to hear. I might take advantage of this later, though.