#to be fair hes being a dick about it. but he never wanted anything to do w/ svet in the first place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

not-neverland06 · 5 months ago

Text

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you.

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help.

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott.

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look.

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together.

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it.

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way.

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you.

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely.

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself.

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain.

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off.

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse.

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells.

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often.

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.”

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him.

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong.

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple.

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back.

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different.

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience.

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do.

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself.

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything.

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home.

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you.

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry.

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy.

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag.

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then.

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do.

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet.

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do.

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him.

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you.

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?”

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong.

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief.

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care.

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful.

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is.

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped.

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing.

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone.

It feels so wrong.

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you.

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face.

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low.

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore.

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation.

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism.

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch.

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself.

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself.

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you.

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other.

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new.

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great.

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable.

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting.

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily.

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you.

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging.

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut.

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you.

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair.

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets.

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other.

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore.

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone.

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on.

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy.

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

#wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine #wolverine fic #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman

2K notes · View notes

dollishmehrayan · 15 days ago

Text

# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )

a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”

Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”

Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)

Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.

He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.

Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”

Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”

You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.

The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.

He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.

Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.

You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.

Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)

Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.

Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.

Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”

Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.

Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.

Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)

You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.

Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”

1K notes · View notes

sp00kymulderr · 4 months ago

Text

awake

Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. No outbreak au, but it doesn't really matter. Just know this is older Joel :). teeniest bit of somno. Nuzzling the dick. Kissing the dick. Loving the dick. Living for the dick. Love. Unedited, unbeta'd. I dunno.

Words: 1.6k

Summary: He's the perfect package.

The alarm clock blares at 7 on the dot, waking you from a peaceful slumber with a grumble.

"Joel" you mumble, groggy with sleep. You give him a gentle shove but he doesn't answer with anything more than a grunt.

He was never a morning person.

Eyes barely open, you turn on your side and lean over him to smack the alarm with memorized aim, snoozing it and half smothering Joel with your body in the process.

"5 more minutes" you hear him groan somewhere beneath you before you move and settle back against your pillow. Joel moves at the same time, on his side and pulling you back against his chest to snuggle into your warmth, his favourite way to sleep. His steady breath fans against the back of your neck, large hand holding you against him and with the comfort of his proximity you close your eyes and will your delightful dreams to return to you.

But as much as you try to keep your eyes closed and let sleep lull you, you can't help be distracted. Rather then delightful dreams, what does make an appearance is Joels morning wood - half hard right now against your ass, as his sleeping form keeps you pressed close as possible to his front.

Really how can you possibly fall back asleep?

"You awake?" you mumble, squeezing his hand that rests flat-palmed against your stomach.

"Nuh uh" Joel answers, making you roll your eyes. He's on the periphery of consciousness, that dozy, hazy stage just before fully awake. You can tell because of how his breath remains heavy and steady, chest rising and falling and he's not fully responding when you press your ass back against him.

"Joooel" You whine, whole body suddenly very awake. Just the feel of him, hardening for you, has your stomach doing flips and your core tightening with that familiar heat.

There's not much better in this world than Joel Millers cock, after all.

You've told him so many times, told him how much you love it - the seemingly perfect size of him, girthy but not difficult to take, a pleasurable stretch every time he fucks you, a comforting weight in your hand or on your tongue every time you get him off. God, you love your boyfriends cock almost as much as you love the man himself.

All part of the perfect package.

You're worked up enough by the time the alarm goes off again that when Joel starts to wake properly, aware he has a workday ahead, he finds you not in his arms anymore but further down the bed, your head resting against his leg as your fingers barely trace the bulge of his cock in his boxers.

"Baby…" Joel murmurs, voice deep and gruff with sleep, blinking his eyes open to look down at you properly, dozy smile on his lips "What're you doin'?"

"Your stupid alarm woke me up" you sigh, one hand rubbing his thick thigh whilst the other makes a more intentional move to cup his dick and give it the gentlest, loving squeeze good morning, "Then you made me think about how good your cock is and I couldn't go back to sleep. And you weren't even awake to fuck me" You complain, looking up at him like he owes you an apology. "It's not fair"

Joel just shakes his head, chuckles at your pouty expression and tries to focus on that rather than on your proximity to his rapidly straining cock. The way you touch him isn't even intended to get him harder, just touching for the sake of it. Because you love it.

Glancing over at the clock, Joel sighs and gives the top of your head an affection, apologetic pat before making to move, Tommy will be here soon and he doesn't want to take shit from his younger brother for being late. Before Sarah went off to college she would make sure he was up on time, but with her gone and you rarely being a good influence he really had to keep himself responsible these days.

"I'll make it up to you later, pretty girl. M'sorry"

“Don’t go” You pout up at him, cheek comfortably resting on his meaty thigh as you bat your lashes and try your best to tempt.

“I gotta, you know that” Joel grumbles, he's not about to leave Tommy on the job alone, never been one to call out of work for any reason. He'll just have to ignore that warm feeling pooling inside as he stares down at you, watching as you lift your head and rest it closer to the sweet little wet patch forming in his boxers.

“Get back up here, c’mon” He tries to command but, well, you were never one for following orders and he knows that well enough. His insistence is starting to wane already anyway, feeling your breath all warm so close to him.

"I like it here. Feels nice. I think you like it too" you whisper, happy little thing as you press a kiss to the heft of him through his boxers. You hum a sigh of contentment, thinking about how he'd fucked you senseless last night, how you wanted that again right now. Could never, ever get enough, and he wasn't any better.

"Baby you're killing me here. Gonna be late..." he groans, sighing when you look up at him all sweet innocence, though he's very aware you're anything but.

"Just let me say bye to him" you plead softly, eyes wide, and knowing he's not really going to make you stop yet. Especially not when you nuzzle your face against his crotch and breathe in deeply, murmuring something muffled as you press more kisses across the taut fabric.

"Fuuuck" Joel groans out, making you laugh softly. Your fingers are tugging at the waistband of his underwear now.

"Can I? Just want to see…just for a minute" You ask, cheek smushed up against him and eyes flashing with desirous mischief.

"Greedy little thing" He responds, but there's a clear and definitive nod of 'yes' when he looks to the clock once more and does some mental work to figure out how late he can be out of bed without being late to the work site.

“Can't help it. He’s so pretty” You give a happy little sigh as you start to tug his boxers down.

“It ain’t…pretty” Joel replies with a scoff, rolling his eyes but the reddened hue of his cheeks betrays him.

“He’s so fucking pretty”

Joel acquiesce easily to your protest, that bashful lopsided smile making an appearance along with his blush. it had taken him some time to get used to your way of things but he couldn't pretend he didn't find your intense interest and stubbornness kind of hot. He tips his head back as his morning wood is exposed to the cool air of the room, boxers tugged down just enough to make his perfect cock and heavy balls available for your admiration.

"Wanna put my mouth on you. Wanna spend all day down here with you" You whisper straight to his dick, wide eyed and reverent - as if you're in awe of it despite seeing it so many times before.

"Darlin', I really gotta-" Joel starts, but his words are cut short by your mouth, pressing sweet little kisses to the crown, across the head. He groans as you grip the base, and make you're way down the underside of him, paying loving attention to every little bump and ridge. He's leaking a little, and you can't help but steal a taste.

If only you had more time.

"Better be ready for some real attention later" You mumble against his impressive balls, giving each a kiss of their own but your eyes meet Joels this time, "Gonna let me have as much as I want later, right?"

"Damn it you're such a pain in my side, pretty girl…gettin' me all worked up" Joel practically whines at the promise of later, mouth slightly agape, eyes hodded with desire as his cock twitches eagerly in your hand "Wanna fuck you…you're gonna have me hard all damn day"

"You can fuck me now, if you really need to" you giggle at his frustrations, teasingly licking the pre-cum from him "Tommy can wait, he already thinks we're sex addicts because of that time with the-"

"Yeah...yeah dont remind me about that right now baby. Not right now" He shushes you with a pointed look, then lets out a deep sigh as he relucantly turns to the clock "Not gonna fuck you...I only got 5 minutes and I think I'd be doin' you a disservice" He groans, exasperation building.

"You're such a big old softy, thinking about my needs all the time" You smile up at him, heart swelling with love for the man as give him a pinch to the thigh eased with a kiss before returning back to his cock, throbbing in your hand

"I'll see you tonight" You murmur lovingly, kissing the tip on more time before reluctantly making your way back up Joels body, pressing tender kisses to his stomach, his chest, his neck, and finally his lips.

"You drive me fuckin' insane, I swear to god" He breathes out against your lips, hand coming down hard on your ass and squeezing a cheek as your kiss turns more intense.

"And you love it" You giggle breathlessly once your lips part.

"I love it. Love you, you maniac"

He sits up with you, another series of quick kisses before he turns to leave the bed and you can't help but pout again. You wish he didn't work so hard, dedicate himself to so much. But then he wouldn't be your Joel, your man

"Joel…don't work too late"

"Wouldn't dream of it. Just make sure you're ready for me…" He gives your ass another slap that makes you yelp before he's heading off into the bathroom.

"You're gonna come all over him as many times as I tell you to tonight, baby"

#Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #i don't even know I was just sick of not posting fic

1K notes · View notes

stevieschrodinger · 8 months ago

Text

“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”

“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”

“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”

Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”

“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.

“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”

Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”

“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”

“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”

“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”

Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-

“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”

He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.

“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.

It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.

Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.

“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”

“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.

Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”

“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.

Part Two

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #pre getting together #pre steddie #dustin henderson #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #ao3 author #ficlet #ao3 writer #mpreg

1K notes · View notes

bandgie · 7 months ago

Text

Behave

prof!heesung x dean!Jake x fem!reader

3.1k words

warnings! mdni18+, DUBCON, 3some, throat fucking, piv, no protection, creampie, manipulation, cum eating (f!), fingering, reader is called 'slut' multiple times, abuse of power themes notes: please don't read if you're not comfortable OR before you read this! I also finally figured out how to do the three picture thingies yay!

All you did was talk back

There wasn’t any shouting, no cursing, no physical violence. Your professor was being a dick, as per usual, and you found it best to let him know how you didn’t appreciate his behavior. Truly, you didn’t think you said anything bad. Nothing that warranted an intense meeting between your professor and the university dean.

Professor Lee Heesung stood with his arms crossed, glasses resting low on his nose as he regarded you with disdain. It took everything in you to keep your eyes from rolling as the dean sat on his desk, disciplining your behavior.

“I think an apology is much needed to your professor, missy.”

Missy. You swear you see red when you hear those words. Mr. Sim Jae-yun doesn’t even acknowledge how demeaning that is to say. Not when he’s too busy looking at the exposed part of your thighs that bugle from you sitting. He’s beginning to think he should talk to the president to implement a rule that skirts must go past your knees. It doesn’t matter if being in a university doesn’t require a uniform, he’ll make it happen.

You scoff, crossing your arms in the same manner as Professor Lee. “With all due respect, Mr. Sim, I think not. Everyone in that class hates him. He’s such an ass.”

“Oh, I’m the ass?” Heesung unfolds his arms to point at you accusingly. “You’re the one wearing shorts that only show ass. I don’t need to take any type of ridicule from a slut-in-training.”

Any comeback you had quickly dies in your throat. It’s not as though you’ve never been called names before, but from a professor, that’s a first. You clear your throat and blink, still in slight disbelief. “See?” You look at Jake with desperation. “He’s being a dick right in front of you!”

But the dean doesn’t agree. All he does is sigh, “To be fair, it is really short.”

You groan. “As if any of that matters! I’m not gonna apologize to this asshole. And you can’t make me.” Ignoring their gawks, you huff and turn your head the other way. Maybe it would be better to swallow your pride and give them what they want. It would get them off your back and, hopefully, get everything back to normal. Yet, you catch yourself replaying how Heesung easily called you a whore and how the dean did little to nothing about it. Worst of all, how the tiniest part of you almost liked knowing that they were looking at you in a way that university staff should not.

The men exchange glances - looks you miss that involve smirks and nods.

“Go ahead and stand up.” It’s Jake who directs you. Rather than turning your whole head, you only peek from the side of your eyes. “Or what?”

“Or you’ll be expelled,” he says factly. Now you fully turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’re already stuttering about how he can’t do that, but he shuts you up with, “If you don’t want to give an apology, the least you can do is stand.”

So you do, hesitantly, but you do. Their gaze drops to your legs and you begin to tug your skirt just a few inches lower. It doesn’t matter how hot these men are, they still pissed you off. You couldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing your plush skin. Not unless they deserved it, of course.

Heesung crosses one arm over his chest while his other hand is at his chin, putting him in a thinking pose. He regards you much differently now. There's not as much disgust than there is interest. He takes a few steps around you, getting a good look at every angle.

You shift from one leg to the other, uncomfortable with his blatant stalking. “I don’t understand how this is going to help.”

Jake stands from his place at the desk and walks closer to you. Granted, he’s not the tallest man, but you find yourself shrinking from his aura. A presence that demands attention, respect. His ringed fingers grab a hold of your chin so you look him in the eyes. “You don’t know how to listen, but I think we can fix that. All you need is some discipline. If you wanna stay enrolled, I suggest you behave for us starting now.”

You’re too stunned to say anything. No words can form even when Heesung places his hand on your lower back. He applies pressure until you arch, the skirt inevitably exposing your panties for him to see.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he tuts. “I don’t understand how you expect me to act professional with you when you dress like this.” Heesung uses his other hand to reach down, cupping your clothed mound with no warning.

The warmth of his hand makes you gasp and Jake takes the opportunity to slip his thumb in your mouth. It’s not supposed to work on you, but it manages to turn your whimpers into mewls instead as you softly suck on it. The pad of his finger presses onto your tongue and you dutifully open your throat so he can shove it deeper.

Jake can’t help but smile, one side of his lips slightly turned more upwards than the other when he looks at you. All it takes is Heesung to apply more pressure to your cunt to make you suck harder. He can feel his cock hardening in his slacks, the blood leaving his head to rush to his groin instead.

Perhaps he’ll be able to blame his terrible decisions on that fact.

You whine when Heesung pulls away from you, placing his hands on either side of your hips to guide you closer to the dean’s desk. It’s all too quick when you find yourself bent over the wooden table, legs kicked open so your thighs are apart, and your hands bound by Jake’s grip.

“It truly is a shame we have to do it like this,” he sighs, though it hardly sounds regretful in the slightest. “But we just can’t trust you’ll be good for us, not yet anyway.”

Being restrained makes you twist and turn, trying to escape from the men who have you pinned down. Your stomach squeezes with fear, but you’re starting to think a different, more intense emotion, slithers its way to your core. “W-wait,” you turn your head in an attempt to look at them. “You can’t do this. I’ll get you fired. I��ll tell.”

“Oh no!” Heesung mocks fear in his voice. “Did you hear that, Jake? She’s gotta tattletale on us!” He laughs wholeheartedly, making sure to keep your thighs pried open no matter how much you try and push them together. “Even if you do, who do you think they’ll believe?”

His finger trails up your slit, prodding your entrance before sliding back down to your clothed clit. You jolt so violently that you lurch forward and whine. Heesung and Jake chuckle at your reactions, lifting your skirt over your ass so it’s only your panties in the way.

“Good, slut,” Heesung coos. “No talking back this time. See? You can behave.”

The only reason you’re not saying anything is because you’re scared that you’ll moan. There’s no way in hell you’d let them know that you’re feeling even the smallest amount of pleasure. No matter how wet your underwear grows, no matter how hard you bite your lower lip, your pride is too strong to succumb to their touch.

But you want to, so bad you do. Maybe they can already tell that you’re becoming more and more pliant for them since Jake only has to use one hand to bind your wrists. Both of the men have their fingers at your pussy: swirling, pinching, and rubbing your cunt until you instinctively grind back on them.

Jake does the honors of hooking a finger to the side of your underwear, finally revealing the source of arousal. You squeal, wiggling to cover yourself but to no avail. It’s near impossible to hide your soaked pussy, lips fat and wet from how disgustingly good they were making you feel.

“Damn,” Heesung breathes. “Must’ve been hard to pretend to hate it, huh?”

You snarl at him, teeth clenched and eyes ignited. “I hate you.”

Heesung smiles, “Seems like your pussy here doesn’t.” He pushes the tip of his finger on your nub, flicking it back and forth. Heesung laughs when your breath gets caught in your throat and all you can do is let out a high-pitched moan from his touch. “Fuck, it’s so wet.”

Jake focuses his digits near your entrance, dipping just the tips of his fingers in to watch your hole clench in anticipation. “More than wet, it’s sobbing to be filled.” He groans when your cunt tries to swallow his fingers. “I don’t even think you need to finger her. You can just put it straight in.”

Wait. That’s not what you want to happen. Your fight or flight should kick in, you should try to scream or kick, but you don’t. Getting away is the last thing your body wants to do. All its attention is on finishing as fast and as pleasurable as possible. So what if they’re older than you? Have authority over you? They can make you feel good, even if it’s at the cost of your dignity.

It’s as if Heesung can hear your inner turmoil, and of course, he has to add fuel to the fire. “You heard that, slut? Sounds like you really do like me. Go ahead and tell me how much you want it and I’ll fuck you real nice.”

Jake, despite being the one to say that fingering you would hardly make a difference, begins to push his digits deeper inside. Two of them slowly, but agonizingly open you up. As much as you hate that they're the ones doing it, your cunt is grateful for having something to finally clench down on. Still, your will is stronger than your desire. “F-fuck no.”

But deep down you know and they know. It’s how your curses turn into mewls. How you’ve begun to rock your hips back and forth to match the pace of Jake’s thrusting fingers. The men can see the pretty, white cream coating his digits. The sight makes Heesung groan, “Can’t you behave? Just look at it. You’re begging for this, slut.” Without being told to, Jake slips his finger from your hole. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, mouth agape as you silently whine. You’re too busy mourning the lack of fingers before you feel them prod your lips.

Jake reaches around and easily slips his fingers in your mouth. It’s an immediate reaction when your tongue swirls around them, tasting your arousal and gulping it down.

“Fuck. I hope you suck cock like that.” Jake grunts when he presses the pad of his fingers on your tongue. You bite on them, but it comes off more playful than painful. The taste of yourself is overwhelming and you can’t even notice how they’ve begun to position themselves with one in front of your face with the other staying behind.

A different, slightly smaller pair of hands pin you this time. You finally recognize Jake as being the one in front of you while Heesung rubs against the curve of your ass. He’s bare, you figure, from the waist down with his cock guiding up and down. You whimper and you’re comforted by Jake pushing the hair from your face to reveal your pretty, stained lips.

“You have sucked someone off before, right?” Jake tilts his head and lets his thumb run across your bottom lip. You don’t answer, both too stunned by the inevitable outcome and how Heesung has angled his cock slightly lower so it catches your clit instead. It’s the man behind that answers for you, “Course she has. You seen the mouth on this slut? All that talking she does is just ‘cuz there’s nothing to shut her up.”

When you feel a flush in your face, you know it’s from anger. “Oh, fuck you. The only way you’re able to get laid is by - hngh!” Heesung isn’t slow when he puts it in. His rough entrance cuts you off mid-sentence. You only feel his tip widening you for a second before the rest of his length slides into you.

Now you understand why Jake stretched you open despite everything. He must know how Heesung is, he must know because of how often they do this. It all begins to fall into place now that you’re bent over, skirt flipped up with a cock in your cunt and one soon to be in your mouth. Your behavior did not warrant a meeting with the dean, let alone one-on-one. This must have been their plan. To abuse their power on a whore of a student like you so that if word ever did get out, it would be easier to write it up as a girl who simply didn’t like her professor.

Not the most perfect plan, but you hardly care to focus on the cracks when you're being jolted forward and rocked against the desk. Jake takes the opportunity to shove himself inside your moaning mouth. Your tongue goes on the underside of his cock, throat expanding so he can fuck himself deeper while Heesung does the same inside your cunt.

It’s so that it can be bearable, you tell yourself. Not because you like the feeling of them filing you.

“Shit, see?” Heesung moans and squeezes your wrists. “She just needs something to shut. her. up.” Each word is enunciated with a thrust. Heesung makes sure the sound of your bodies echo in the office. You squeal around gag around Jake's cock, neck straining from keeping your head lifted.

Jake grips the hair from the top of your head to start fucking you at a rhythm. His hips rock upwards so his tip touches the back part of the roof of your mouth. “Her throats’ squeezing me like a pussy. Fuck! You caught a good one, Hee.”

Heesung laughs, but it sounds dark. Drool seeps from the corner of your lips from the stimulation. The edge of the table only slightly rubs on your clit when Heesung rocks into you. Just barely touching your nub to make you clench and gush around his cock. You try to get on your tippy toes so you can feel him deeper inside, but Heesung is set on having you nearly flushed against the desk save for Jake’s grip forcing your chest upwards.

“I’d hardly say she’s good,” Heesung argues. “She was giving us such a hard time. Making us play with her pussy just to make sure she was wet enough. Isn’t that right, slut?”

You muffle against Jake’s dick. Neither of them make a move to properly understand what you said, both caught in the pleasure you’re giving them. Still, Heesung continues. “Ah, now I get it. You were just playing hard to get. Calling me names and acting like you’re above this when all you wanted was to be bent like this.” He’s pumping into you harder, messier. You don't even have the coordination to suck properly on Jake’s cock anymore. Not that he minds, it seems. He uses your mouth like a fleshlight, careful not to hit so deep that your gag reflex forces him out.

You can wiggle your hands though. A final act of retaliation to let Heesung know that he’s wrong. He sees it, to your surprise, and he laughs at your futile ministrations. “I kind of like it when you keep fighting back. It’ll make everything so much more fun when you cum on the dick you hate.”

You don't want to cum, you don’t even want to think about it. Yet, the taste of your orgasm travels in your stomach. You swear you can feel the head of Heesung’s cock touching it, the tip of Jake’s prodding it from your throat. All you need is that final push, a last magical touch to make you tip over. Strangely, you wish for the feeling of being on the edge to never stop. So this moment of twisted humiliation and pleasure lasts for a lifetime.

That doesn’t happen though. Not when Heesung untangles one of his hands to play with the flesh of your pussy. His nimble fingers blindly travel up until they find your clit. It only takes a couple of rubs, a few harsh pinches that make you whine on Jake's dick before you flood his cock. The consistent moans vibrate the cock in your mouth and Jake doesn’t last any longer when he feels them.

“Oh fuck. I’m cumming. I'm cumming. I’m cumming.” Both of his hands grab ahold of your face as he buries his cock deep. You sputter and gag around him, being force-fed his load that shoots down your throat. It doesn’t help that Heesung keeps fucking into you to reach his high. It makes Jake’s cock bury itself deeper inch by inch. Your eyes water, saliva and cum drip down your chin onto the desk, but Jake is content with milking himself dry in your mouth and then some.

Finally, Heesung groans. He adjusts his stance so he can fuck harder into you. His fingers rub painfully fast on your clit and you're crying for him to slow down. The overstimulation nearly makes you want to claw your own skin before he finishes. Hot streaks of cum enter your pussy, the entrance of your womb. You pulse around him, and he pulses inside of you.

Your hips wiggle to get his fingers off your clit, and they listen to adjust on your ass instead. Jake slowly slips his softening cock from your lips, moaning when your head thuds on the table and you gasp for air. He shoves his cock back into his slacks, wiping the sweat from his forehead when he’s done.

Then Heesung slips out of you, pulling one of your cheeks apart to watch his and your cream leak from your gaping pussy. Your hole pushes out the cum and he shoves it back in with his finger. “Mmm,” he hums. “It looks so good like this.”

When Heesung releases you from his grip you don’t dash for the door. You don’t turn around and slap him; the thought doesn't even cross your mind. Your legs turn into jelly, falling on the floor disgracefully. You can’t even imagine how you look, cum dripping down your thighs and chin as you catch your breath. Still, Heesung smiles down at you, though you know it’s far from endearing.

“See, slut? It’s not that hard to listen, now is it.”

#smut #enha smut #enha x reader #enha #enha imagines #enha jake #enha heesung #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #lee heesung smut #jake enhypen #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake #jake sim

2K notes · View notes

prythiansprincess · 1 year ago

Text

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays.

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick.

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found.

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned.

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life.

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you.

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely.

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?”

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?”

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation.

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.”

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.”

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.”

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave.

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course.

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again.

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem.

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side.

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?”

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot.

“Nice slippers, princess.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?”

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?”

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.”

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.”

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?”

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy.

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon.

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

“I can feed myself, you know.”

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?”

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it.

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?”

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?”

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.”

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?”

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.”

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little.

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.”

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.”

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.”

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?”

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.”

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed. It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?”

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.”

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?”

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.”

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.”

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?”

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.”

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.”

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.”

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?”

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.”

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.”

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?”

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.”

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh.

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer.

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?”

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.”

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?”

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

#a cuddle from him could reset my brain chemistry #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff

3K notes · View notes

im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years ago

Text

As it turns out, Danny makes a pretty good leader. His little gang of homeless children has grown immensely, both from picking up strays and from assimilating other gangs into his group.

Danny might only be 10 and still figuring out his powers but dang, intangibility and flight are over powered even before you add invisibility and laser blasts. At first he regretted sneaking into the lab alone to check out the portal his parents made in this basement. Waking up in a cold alley in a city you've never heard of is a terrifying experience even without the corrupt cops trying to sell you into human trafficking, but finding out he had powers and could do whatever he wanted? That was great. It no longer mattered that adults didn't listen to him or chased him around. He could do anything now. Be anything. Take anything.

He and the people under his protection often robbed places, never banks or anything but high class restaurants and stores that usually wouldn't even let them in through the front doors. Yeah, Danny can admit most of thier robberies were because of grudges the other kids had because of how they were treated but Danny being ten thought this was fine.

The real issue was Gothams Paw Patrol (who absolutely hate being called that :3 ) they were always on thier case, Dannys especially. They kept insisting that the system could help them -Danny called bull. No one helped him or Jazz back in Amity and it was waaaay nicer that Gotham- and kept getting him and his fellow kids arrested. That didn't really matter. Anti-meta stuff never worked on him so getting himself the other kids out was no big deal.

After overhearing a conversation between Nightwing and one of the other bats a kid came into thier current secret base announcing that Nightwing was poor and the other bats weren't. This caught everyone attention. Appearently Nightwing was trying to establish himself outside of the colony cause he didn't get along great with whoever the bats super daddy was, which was fair. A lot of them were runaways for one reason or another and knew a bunch of reasons why you wouldn't want to except "free" money.

This led to them fetching Nightwings "wingdings" and batarangs instead of keeping them/selling them like they do with the others, sharing some of thier spoils with him like the groceries, jewelry, fancy clothes, ect that they stole.

Dick even catches one of the kids in his apartment in Bludhaven filling up his fridge which has him panicking about his secret id being compromised. Luckly the kids had only followed him there and didn't think to check who was on the lease or anything cause they assumed it would be a fake name or something.

Just Dick getting forcibly adopted by a child gang.

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #nightwing #dick grayson #hes getting so many heart attacks huh #danny is a farel ten year old in this #robin at some point gets sucked into the child gang and the kids demand they teach them stuff #they promise to lead him to some place stray cats like to go to give birth if he does #bribery at its finest #jason is not on the bats side with this #red hood is an ally to the children

6K notes · View notes

cybrasigilism · 20 days ago

Text

NSFW alphabet with Player 230 (Thanos/Choi Su-bong)

warnings: smut and all things of the like, of course | not proofread! | lowercase intended | these are my head canons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character differ from your own

character: player 230 (thanos/choi su-bong)

A/N: these are way too much fun to do, any letters in the alphabet that i skip are just ones i either couldn’t think of for the character or i didn’t feel comfortable writing about! also, thank you so much for the love on my min-su alphabet! i am currently working on a requested se-mi x f!reader fanfic but consider this a writers warm up! p.s welcome to the thanos world 😈🤟

MDNI! 18+ content ahead, reader discretion is advised!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A= Aftercare what are they like after sex?

↳ you know damn well that this man knows very little about aftercare. don’t get him wrong, he will do the bare minimum just to make sure you aren’t in any genuine pain, but aside from that, don’t expect much

B= Body part their favourite body part of theirs and of their partner’s

↳ due to the fact that thanos clearly loves himself so much, i would be surprised if there was a part of his body he didn’t like. however, when it comes down to it, he’ll most likely choose his dick as being his own “favourite” body part. as for his partner, he is an ass man and comes by it very honestly

C= Cum anything to do with cum, honestly

↳ he almost never cums inside, most of the time he will cum on your back/stomach (it all depends on what position you guys are in)

D= Dirty secret what dirty secrets do they have?

↳ he’s a switch. do with this what you will

E= Experience how experienced are they? do they know what their doing?

↳ i want you to look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn’t experienced. of course he knows what he’s doing. in fact, he may be a little too experienced. but fret not, he will get tested if you ask him to

F= Favourite position this one speaks for itself

↳ Doggy style, without a doubt. he loves that he can grab your hair and pull you back into it as he fucks you. (its also a great opportunity to bite your neck)

G= Goofy how serious are they in the moment? are they humorous etc.

↳ he takes sex very seriously, but he will probably crack a mocking joke at your expense in the heat of the moment

I= Intimacy how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect?

↳ he’s not exactly comfortable with intimacy, solely because of how vulnerable he feels. but, if you insist on taking things slower and softer, he won’t object

J= Jack off masturbation headcanons

↳ he likes to watch porn to get off, but he doesn’t need it. phone sex is also a big yes for him

K= Kink one or more of their kinks

↳ degradation, DACRYPHILIA, and bondage. need i say more?

L= Location favourite places to do the do

↳ thanos does not strike me as someone who would be opposed to public sex. anywhere that you two can be concealed is fair game for him

M= Motivation what turns them on, gets them going?

↳ no surprise, dirty talk totally gets him going. also if you match his energy and act like a little brat? you will be walking funny for a few days and that’s a guarantee

N= No something they won’t do

↳ anal, thats an exit only area (this includes pegging)

O= Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

↳ in the words of lil wayne, he’ll eat it ‘til you cry, call that whine and dine. he doesn’t have a preference in giving or receiving, but if he’s the one getting head, you best believe you’ll be deepthroating him

P= Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

↳ if it were up to him, rough sex would be the only sex you guys had. he’s willing to accommodate, but he might jokingly be begrudging to do so

Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies, are they game and how often?

↳ he’s always down for a quickie, he finds them super hot

R= Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks?

↳ of course! he lives by the “try everything once” motto, and he really does mean everything. how else are you supposed to figure out what you like?

S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? etc.

↳ whether it’s the drugs or not, his stamina is almost frightening. he could probably last for hours if you let him, especially if he pops an ecstasy pill beforehand. at most, he could go up to 12 minutes per round

T= Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?

↳ he’s definitely got a few toys of his own, mainly ones he can use on his partner. if he really wants to be mean he’ll tease you with a vibrator while he hits it from the back

U= Unfair how much they like to tease

↳ he loves to tease you, to see how far he can push your buttons. he secretly loves it when you tease him too

V= Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

↳ when he tops, he’s not much of a moaner. he’ll grunt and maybe moan a little if he’s getting close, but as for dirty talk in the thick of it he’ll call you his little whore or refer to you as a cock-drunk bitch. when he’s bottoming however? he whimpers and whines like a little bitch, especially if you tug his hair or choke him lightly.

W= Wildcard a random headcanon for the character

↳ it drives him wild if you LIGHTLY use teeth when you suck his cock

X= X-ray what’s going on underneath those clothes?

↳ he’s pretty lean, but that’s no surprise. as for size, he’s slightly above average hard, around 7” (he’s well aware of how big he is so he will allow you time to adjust during your guys’ first time. he isn’t a monster after all)

Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?

↳ he’s got a relatively high sex drive. he’s always up for fucking

Z= Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

↳ circling back to the aftercare piece, this dude does not wait for you to sleep before he does, but it all depends on how tired he is afterwards, too

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

As always, advice and constructive criticism for my writing are always appreciated! I hope you enjoy, and more to come of course :>

#thanos x reader #player 230 #squid game smut #squid game x reader #squid game 2 #alphabet #x reader smut

857 notes · View notes

rizzanon · 1 month ago

Text

00 | AND SHE CRIED OVER NOTHING

m.list | next

You weren’t supposed to be out here tonight. You knew that very well. The injuries that you sustained from your previous few night patrols hadn’t fully healed yet. Leslie warned you not to go out that night.

Yet you still went out.

Why?

Because you finally had a lead on the drug ring you had been tracking down for who knows how long. And if you didn’t act now, they’ll get away. Again. You couldn’t allow that.

You could have asked for some backup, but that wouldn’t suffice.

Not because you didn’t want help—actually no. You didn’t want help. This was your mission. Your lead. But backup would have been nice. Though you knew no one would come.

Dick? He was busy juggling his duties in Blüdhaven. Even if he wanted to help, his plate was always overflowing, and he wouldn’t drop it all just because you asked.

Jason? Yeah, right. You could already hear his sarcastic laugh if you dared to call him. “Why? Can’t handle it yourself for once?” he’d sneer, probably adding some comment about how this was why you didn’t belong in the field, before handling the whole situation himself. You weren’t about to give him more ammunition.

Tim? He was neck-deep in some case he swore was more pressing than anything else. The last time you’d asked him for help, he’d given you that look—the one that screamed—You can’t do this without me?—before ultimately brushing you off. You didn’t want to go through that again.

Damian? He’d probably make some cutting remark about how you lacked the skills to deal with it on your own. And while he might grudgingly show up, it wouldn’t be out of concern—it’d be just to make sure you didn’t screw up his father’s reputation. Or make things worse to clean up.

Cassandra? She had her own priorities, her own missions that rarely overlapped with yours. And truthfully, you didn’t even think she noticed how much you struggled. She always seemed so focused, so capable. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit how lost you felt in comparison.

Duke? He might’ve come if you asked, but it wasn’t fair to rely on him. He already did so much during the day. You didn’t want to drag him down with you.

And Bruce? Your father? Well. He was offworld with the Justice League. Besides, he never showed up unless it was absolutely critical. And let’s be honest—he didn’t think your leads were ever “critical.”

So you didn’t bother calling. You didn’t want the dismissive tones, the passive-aggressive remarks, or the lingering sense of being an afterthought.

This was your lead. Your mission. And if you didn’t do it, no one else would.

The warehouse loomed in front of you, its shadow stretching long across the damp pavement. Your heart pounded as you slipped into the shadows, your injuries screaming in protest with every movement.

You moved silently through the shadows, the dim light from the flickering bulbs overhead casting long, jagged shapes along the warehouse floor. The stench of oil, dust, and something far more pungent hit your nostrils as you crouched behind a stack of crates, eyes scanning the scene.

A small group of men huddled around a table near the back, laughing, their voices low but unmistakably clear. The bags of white powder scattered across the surface of the table made your stomach churn.

They're pushing more than just drugs this time, you thought.

Weapons, too.

A rough-looking man passed a large duffle bag to another, his fingers brushing the edge of the table. You could see the gleam of a few pistols tucked in the bag, alongside the drugs.

This was more dangerous than you thought.

You couldn't risk waiting for backup-you had to end it now.

You moved, a blur of motion, cutting through the darkness, your body fluid and quiet. The first guy was an easy target—a simple kick to the back of his knee sent him collapsing forward. You grabbed his collar and shoved him into the crates with a muffled thud, silencing his surprised yelp with your fist. He slumped, unconscious before he could make a sound.

Two more men turned at the noise, and before they could react, you were on them, one swift strike to the throat with your elbow knocking the wind out of the first. He staggered back, choking, and you took the opportunity to jab your fist into his ribs-hard enough to knock the breath out of him but not enough to take him down completely.

The second man lunged for his gun. You didn't give him a chance. Your leg snapped out, sweeping his feet from under him. As he crashed to the floor, you were already on top of him, wrenching the weapon from his hand and twisting it behind his back, forcing him to the ground with a grunt.

Three down.

But there were more.

You heard movement behind you. The fourth man was charging. You spun, ducking just in time to avoid his swinging fist. Your foot came up, landing a solid kick to his stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air, but you weren't done. Before he could recover, you snapped your knee into his face— cracking his nose with a sickening crunch. He crumpled, blood pooling beneath his head as you quickly swiped the gun from his belt.

But more men were flooding into the warehouse now, alerted by the noise of the fight.

You dove into the next move, tossing the gun to the side and using your momentum to launch yourself into a roll, just narrowly avoiding a swing from a fifth man. Your leg shot out, sweeping his feet out from under him. As he crashed to the ground, you were already on him, pinning his arm behind his back.

Your breathing was heavy now, muscles straining from the effort, but you didn't stop.

You couldn't.

Another man tried to rush you from the side. You twisted just in time, grabbing his arm and using his own momentum to throw him into a stack of crates. He hit the ground with a crash, dazed. You didn't waste time, hitting him hard with a knee to the chest.

But then, something shifted. You were surrounded. More men had come from the back, the entrance-everywhere.

You counted at least seven now, all armed, all ready for a fight.

Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears. You fought harder, faster, but exhaustion was creeping in. You could feel the weight of your injuries dragging on you, slowing your reactions, dulling your reflexes.

One man landed a punch to your side.

Pain exploded, sharp and brutal, as your ribs cracked under the force. You staggered, trying to keep your footing, but then another slammed his fist into your jaw, sending you spinning. Your head whipped to the side, and for a moment, everything blurred.

You barely managed to catch yourself before hitting the floor. Focus, you thought, shaking your head to clear the fog. But it was too late.

Gunfire erupted.

The sound echoed through the warehouse, deafening, sharp. You barely had time to react as the first shot rang out, grazing your shoulder. You cursed under your breath, trying to duck behind a crate for cover. But then another shot-this time, it struck you in the side. The pain was unbearable, like a fire burning through your skin. You fell to your knees, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of you.

You tried to rise, but the pain was too much.

Blood pooled around you, your body screaming in protest as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open.

But it wasn't enough.

Another bullet pierced through your side, and you crumpled to the ground, gasping, your body going cold. Your vision dimmed, the world around you fading into darkness.

Damnit, this couldn't be the end. This couldn't be the way you die.

You gritted your teeth, trying to will your broken body into motion, but it was no use. Your muscles betrayed you, trembling under the effort to even inch forward. Blood pooled beneath you, sticky and warm, and every movement sent a sharp, searing pain radiating through your torso.

Your hand, slick with blood, dragged itself forward, reaching for the comms device tucked at your side. Come on.

Just one call. Someone has to be there.

With a shaky grip, you brought the device to your lips, gasping into it. "H-hello? Anyone... anyone copy? Oracle? Batcave?"

The comms buzzed faintly, then fell silent.

Nothing.

Your heart sank, a cold weight settling in your chest. No one was coming. You pressed the button again, harder this time, as if that would somehow force a response. "Please... anyone..."

Still nothing.

Tears blurred your vision as the reality of your situation hit you like a freight train.

You were dying, and you were alone.

The sounds of movement around you grew louder. The men you'd fought earlier were groaning, pulling

themselves up off the ground. You heard their footsteps, slow and deliberate, growing closer with every second.

You swallowed hard, your breaths shallow. No. No, no, no. This can't be happening.

But then, the distant wail of police sirens pierced the silence, growing louder by the second. The footsteps halted. You could hear hurried whispers, curses under their breath. They weren't going to stick around to get caught.

And just like that, they were gone.

You lay there, helpless, listening to their retreating footsteps echo through the warehouse. The mission was a failure.

The drug ring was slipping through your fingers, and you could do nothing but bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

Your vision blurred further as tears fell freely down your cheeks, mixing with the blood beneath you. You felt hollow, a deep ache spreading through you that had nothing to do with the gunshots.

Flashes of your life played out in your mind, each memory sharper and crueler than the last.

You saw yourself as a child, training relentlessly, throwing yourself into every practice, every drill, every mission. You wanted so desperately to prove yourself.

To make your father proud. To make anyone see you. But no matter how hard you worked, how much you pushed yourself, it was never enough.

You saw the countless patrols where you'd fought harder, faster, and smarter, hoping for even a flicker of recognition from your father or your siblings. But they always moved past you, as if you were nothing more than a shadow in their much larger, brighter world.

Your father's dismissive glances, your siblings' subtle comments, their silence—it all piled up, brick by brick, until you were buried beneath it. And now, you were dying under that weight.

Tears kept falling as another thought crept in, sharper than the rest.

You shouldn't have put on the mask.

You weren't cut out for this life. You never had been. Maybe you were too stubborn to admit it before, or maybe you'd known all along but refused to face the truth. You wanted to be like them-to belong. But maybe you were never meant to.

After all, even your own mother didn't want you.

That thought cut deeper than any bullet ever could. If your own mother had abandoned you, why did you ever think Bruce or the others would be any different?

And then there were your friends.

Adrien and Caitlyn.

The only two people who had ever cared about you, who had tried to stop you from breaking yourself for a family that didn't care. You pushed them away—no, you drove them away. They saw through the cracks in your armor, saw the truth you didn't want to face, and you hated them for it.

You remembered the arguments, the cruel words, the way you shut them out of your life, thinking they didn't understand. You'd been so stupid, so blind. And now? You'd give anything to take it all back. To tell them you were sorry.

What would they think when they found out about this? Would they cry? Would they be angry? Or would they feel nothing at all?

They didn't have to care anymore. You made sure of that.

And then your family...

Would they even care? Would your father see your death as another failure? Would your siblings mourn you, or would they move on, like you were just another casualty in the war they'd chosen to fight?

You'd never know.

At least now, maybe you could finally see Alfred once again.

Alfred… the man who was your family’s butler, and someone who was more of a parental figure to you than your actual father.

Everything changed when he died. God, you missed him so much. Everything was so much harder, so much lonelier without him. At least now, you could finally see him again.

As the world around you dimmed, your thoughts grew quieter, like the fading notes of a melancholy song.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, each breath weaker than the last.

The pain ebbed away, replaced by a strange, cold stillness.

And with one final, trembling breath, everything went black.

Everything felt peaceful for a moment.

But then, you heard a sound.

The sound was faint at first—a low, rhythmic ringing cutting through the darkness. It didn’t make sense. Everything had gone quiet, hadn’t it? The fight. The blood. The cold, creeping sensation of death. Yet, the ringing persisted, growing louder, sharper. It was unmistakable now. An alarm clock?

Your mind scrambled for understanding as the sound grew deafening. And then—

Your eyes shot open.

You were staring at the ceiling. Your ceiling. The familiar, faintly cracked white plaster of your bedroom greeted you, sunlight streaming in through the blinds. It didn’t make sense. Wasn’t this supposed to be—? No. You were bleeding out in that warehouse, weren’t you? The pain, the hopelessness—it was too vivid to have been a dream. Wasn’t it?

Your heart pounded as you sat upright, your body reacting before your mind could process. Your hands flew to your torso, desperate to find the bullet wounds that had felled you. But there were none. No blood, no pain. Nothing but smooth skin under your shirt.

But something was wrong. Your hands trailed over your arms, your fingers tracing the faint scars you’d accumulated over the years as Batgirl. Only… there weren’t as many as there should’ve been. You froze. Your heart raced as you stood up, scanning your room with frantic eyes.

Things weren’t where they were supposed to be. Some of the posters you’d taken down years ago were back on the walls, curling at the edges like they hadn’t moved in years. Old trinkets and keepsakes cluttered your desk—the ones you distinctly remembered throwing away. And the books you’d obsessively arranged last year? They were still in the chaotic, haphazard piles from years ago.

Panic bubbled in your chest. You turned sharply, catching movement in the corner of your eye—a reflection. Your reflection. In the mirror of your dressing table, you saw a face you barely recognized.

Your hair was longer, falling past your shoulders, untouched by the haphazard trims you’d been giving yourself since your late teens. Your face was softer, your features less defined. The heavy eye bags you’d earned through sleepless nights as Batgirl were faint, barely noticeable.

You stumbled closer, staring at yourself like you were seeing a ghost. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t who you were anymore. You looked… younger. Much younger.

Desperation clawed at you as you rushed to grab your phone from the bedside table. Your fingers trembled as you tapped the screen, and what you saw nearly sent you reeling.

The date on your phone.

Four years ago.

You weren’t 20 anymore. You were 16. Somehow, impossibly, you were back in the past.

just a retelling of this

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows | ask to be added <3

(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

999 notes · View notes

slashingdisneypasta · 4 months ago

Text

Beetlejuice x AFAB!Reader || Drabble+Smut

Plot: You bet him he couldn't leave you alone (stop harassing you) for even one day, not realising that he would take winning s o seriously, but he's a stubborn old fuck so now its been weeks, and he still wont give in. And well... now you kinda miss him. Ironic, huh?

Warnings: Smut. Reader is DOWN BAD, FED UP AND WANTS THAT PERVERT DICK. A little daddy kink, panty stealing, creampie (WRAP IT BEFORE YA TAP IT. Especially with this guy 😅 We dunno what he has 😅), at points its even kinda f l u f f y?? I tried to connect with different facets of Beetlejuice 😅🤣 XD Unedited.

"Stay fucken still." That raspy voice sounding a hundred shades of pissed o f f creeping directly in your ear, as well as the boner you're sitting on, do absolutely the opposite to what he wants. They do not deescalate anything- in fact, you just feel even more turned on. Jesus christ, who knew it would only take 2 weeks no-contact for you to find him attractive.

But-- b o y, do you see it now.

Yeah he's mucky, but thats part of it?? The harsh mossy stubble and forearm hair (When he rolls up his sleeves), the deep greasy racoon bags around his dark beady eyes, the crazy hair that will not be tamed, everything. You know its kind of fucked up, but you have never wanted someone so bad. And if it weren't for that stupid bet 2 weeks ago-- you would have him! Goddamnit. You and your big mouth.

"Come on BJ," You urge softly, using the tip of your finger to guide his face towards you even as every muscle in his face fights to stay strong and remain stern- and most importantly, avoid looking at you. "Look at me." The ghost with the most hadn't looked at you since he accepted the bet, afraid of seeing you and immediately losing. Immediately being unable to keep his nasty eyes- hands- mouth, off of you.

He's been so strong. So boneheaded-ly strong.

Meanwhile you've been going crazy thinking about him stuffing you with his cock and then keeping your dirty underwear after.

Now sat atop his lap, face-forward, you intend to get him to look at you again and break his resolve. If it is the last thing you do tonight. Or for the week.

"I am lookin' at you." His face barely moves; the words coming out forced and humourless. No tone at all. But you can feel his cock painfully hard stretching the seam on his pants, and your underwear. Probably an embarrassing wet spot, too. "Whadaya mean."

You're so close he can surely feel your warm breath on his face. Giving his nose a cute little brush with your own, you feel his dick twitch in his black and white striped pants and a slow grin worms it way onto your lips. "No you're not... come on. Please, BJ?" With round eyes, you pout a little. "I miss you."

With that, he gives a frustrated and animated groan, and finally looks down from just past your head- to your eyes, causing a delighted smile to slip across your face. "Come on now baby- thats not fair at all. Come on."

You throw your arms around his neck as a familiarly slimy, hot, sex-crazed grin spreads across his grimy mouth. That wild look that apparently you love appearing in his eyes again, looking down at you- all over. Licking over your pretty willing body with just a look. "You didn't give me a choice!!"

"Hey, hey, hey- you bet me, sugar- "

"Hey. You gonna take your chance and fuck me, or not?"

He shrugs. "Well when you're right, you're right." Then he kisses you open-mouthed and all-tongue and just how you imagined he would kiss, and swallows any giggle you were going to give. Along with all your thoughts.

Neither of you can bring yourselves to perform any foreplay- even though you want to. Want to enjoy this; grind in his lap a while longer, feel his tongue in your cunt, tease him with your lips warm and tongue damp over the top of his pants- But you're more then wet enough already, the fabric of your underwear sticks to your pussy lips, and his obviously rock-hard boner fights to tear a hole in its confines. You'll have time for all that fun stuff later, anyway.

You barely have time to properly taste each other's tongues for the first time before his greedy fingers are digging under your skirt, underneath your underwear, and slipping easily right into you. Too easily, shit. He gives a filthy groan, getting 3 of his fingers good and drenched in your slick; feeling your pretty cunt squeeze 'em. "Fuck, honey, I think this is the best pussy I ever had."

Breathless, you give a giggle; forehead pressed into his shoulder at just the feeling of his fingers invading you; hips juttering slightly into is hand. "You haven't even had me yet."

"Lets fix that, then, shall we? Now."

Your fingers go down to the button on his pants and eagerly, with deft fingers, undo it. He's not wearing underpants, predictably, so you just have to reach in and carefully finagle his fat cock free. Then you swipe a finger over the insanely leaky tip for fun and watch his head fall back against the wall, listening to the wildly horny, gutteral groan come out of him at the feeling.

He clicks his fingers and your underwear disappears. You see it reappear in his hand a last time, just before he shoves it in his jacket pocket; flashing you a cheesy grin. "Souvenir."

When finally, finally you sink down on his gross cock you both let out sighs of utter satisfaction. 2 weeks was a hell of an edge.

You're almost happy to just sit there with him stretching you open, milking him with your pussy, but when he shifts his hips, just getting more comfortable and laying his hands on your hips, the movement sparks a change of mind. "BJ... " You wrap your legs more securely around him, around the back of the chair he's sat in, and lift your hands to grip the lapels on his jacket. Your eyes meet his very dark, lusty ones. Just watching you; a little scary and a little smug and a little pussy drunk. "... fuck me."

"P l e a s e?"

"Please, daddy."

His eyes roll into the back of his head and dramatically huffs, making you giggle. "Oh fuck, baby, you really know howta murder a guy." With all his strength, he pulls himself back together; straightening up again. "Alright, alright- hold on, daddy's gonna take you on a ride."

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can even make noise, you blink and you're in another position entirely. Off the chair now, you find yourself pressed against a nearby wall, your legs still wrapped around him and his cock still throbbing inside you.

While you're feeling dizzy from teleporting, Beetlejuice pulls almost all the way out of your messy cunt and thrusts all the way back in- hard. He does it again. Then the pace picks up and he's pounding you into the wall at an inhuman pace that has you hiding your face in his shoulder again and knotting your fingers tight in his greasy hair.

Your orgasm builds up at a record pace, due to all the build up. It would be embarrassing, if he wasn't fighting not to paint your insides already himself. "I gotta- I gotta be honest, sweetie, I- I don't think daddy's gonna last long in this cat. Not this time. The way you're suckin me in- Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuck. Pullin' my hair- Damn, shit, Fuck!- " Finally, BJ mashes his groin against yours and holds himself there; cumming hard inside you.

That causes your orgasm, rolling your hips against him and riding it out, making him shudder out a sigh. A vulgar dopey grin flickers across his jawline and black teeth.

... After a few minutes of heavy breathing- you catching your breath, and him just 'livin in it', enjoying the feel of breather meat for a while longer, you finally pull yourself together and raise your head carefully off his chest. "Um... " Suddenly you feel awkward. But not uncomfortable. You give a small, tired smile. "I don't know what to say?"

"... " He ducks down and presses his forehead to yours, and you're fooled for just a moment that this might be a sweet moment. "Uh. How about 'you win the bet, handsome?'."

Quickly you swat him, laughing. "Oh- Never!"

#i am officially on my 4 day weekend! so i decided to pour all my Feelings about beetlejuice into a fic #in an attempt to get back into the swing of writing.#i hope you like it! ^^#Beetlejuice x Reader Drabble #Beetlejuice x Reader Smut #Smut #Beetlejuice x Reader #Beetlejuice

933 notes · View notes

thef1diary · 1 month ago

Note

i feel like team principal!carlos would always be very professional with driver!reader around the paddock. no showing off, only if you have a moment for yourselves in his office or the driver room. discretion is very important for him. he doesn't want people to view you like someone who just sucked his dick to get the job.

but behind closed doors? lord have mercy. the most giving, attentive and caring man. that doesn't mean he doesn't like it rough, he'd do anything for you. you want the princess treatment? done. you want to be treated like a slut? your wish is his command. anything to please you and make you feel good.

i want him so bad😵‍💫

🩵

— I want him so bad too, nonnie! He knows the difficulties of being a driver, esp the media waiting for the smallest mistakes before putting out articles talking down on your character, so he doesn’t burden you with having to worry about your relationship with him in public. In private though…he’s bringing out the needy slut in you. That’s the duality of team principal!carlos 🤭 18+ content below

The moment you step into the paddock, it’s all business. Carlos barely spares you a glance longer than necessary, his demeanor calm and composed. He calls you by your last name in meetings, never straying into anything that could be misconstrued as favouritism. To anyone watching, he’s your team principal—fair, supportive, but strictly professional.

“Good session out there,” he says after a debrief, tone measured. There’s a flicker in his eyes that you catch only if you’re paying close attention, a quiet pride that he can’t fully suppress. It makes your heart race, but you force yourself to nod and keep walking, knowing his discretion is as much for your sake as it is his.

But the truth? The truth lies behind closed doors.

The moment the lock to your hotel room clicks, his professionalism dissolves like smoke. He’s on you instantly, hands cupping your face, your hips, pulling you close as his lips claim yours with a hunger that’s only grown throughout the day. “You’ve been on my mind all morning,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice low, velvety, and laced with need.

Carlos will do anything for you. Whatever you need, whatever it takes to make you feel good, to make you better—he’s more than willing to give it to you.

Stressed before a race? He’ll pull you into your driver’s room, press you against the wall, and slide his fingers inside your cunt, watching every flicker of tension melt away. His words are soft, coaxing, demanding your pleasure. “Focus on me, nena,” he’ll whisper, his thumb circling your clit just right. “Let me take care of you.”

A win? He’s your biggest fan and your most rewarding prize. Later that night, still soaked with champagne, he’ll lean over you while you’re on your hands and knees. He’ll fuck your pretty little cunt until you’re taking every drop of his cum as your reward. “You’ve earned this,” he’ll say, voice thick with pride and lust. “Take it all, hermosa. All for you.”

A bad result? Carlos isn’t cruel, but he believes in consequences, in helping you learn from your mistakes. He’ll pull you over his lap in his office that same night, his voice low and firm as he tells you exactly what you did wrong, sharp slaps alternating between your ass and your cunt punctuating his words. And then, when the next race weekend rolls around, he’ll bend you over his desk and bully his cock into you. So when you’re sitting in the cockpit, waiting for the lights to go out, your cunt is edged beyond limits and insanely sore, reminding you to never repeat the same mistake again. His punishment works beautifully, leading you to win the race, and he finally rewards you with multiple orgasms.

He’s your boss, yes—but in every way that matters, he’s so much more than that. He doesn’t just fulfill your needs; he anticipates them, giving you what you didn’t even know you craved. Sometimes he’s rough, sometimes gentle, but it’s always for you, for your performance, for your pleasure. He knows what you need better than you do, and he’ll always, always make sure you’re taken care of.

send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts about your fave au and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days!

448 notes · View notes

hugsandharrystyles · 2 months ago

Text

Change of Heart

Summary: Harry's a protecter, a good man. She's a shy librarian with a dog named Pickle. He can't stand her, so why does it fuck him up when he finds out she's scared of him? (Enemies-to-lovers) Word Count: 17k+ Warnings: Harry being a dick, smut

Harry always tried to be a good person.

Key word: Tried.

Growing up, it was just him, his sister, and his mother, so he always felt as a natural protector for women, not implying that women can't hold their own, but he always keeps extra lookout because he can't count all the times his mother and sister have been put in uncomfortable situations with men.

So, he can't understand why all that being said, he can't feel anything but disdain for her.

Y/N has been a part of Harry's friend group almost as long as he has, and he can't stand her. She is the fakest person he's ever met.

He remembers his sister dealing with girls like her in high school. They start off kind and sweet, but then suddenly they have everyone wrapped around their fingers and doing anything they ask. He remembers his sister crying to him about girls like her, so he can't understand why he has to entertain her presence.

He's talked to Niall, his closest friend who's also in their group, about it, but Niall doesn't see the problem. Hell, Y/N has Niall and the rest of them wrapped around her manicured finger.

He really just can't stand her.

"Y/N, tell us how your job interview went!" Harry rolls his eyes and shoots back some of his beer. It was rare that his friend group actually went out to a bar instead of gathering at one of their homes, usually because Y/N hated going out. He feels Niall hit his leg at his eye roll.

"Oh, yes! It went really well, in fact, you're looking at a professional librarian!" Y/N says, her excitement evident in her voice.

"That's so great, Y/N. I'm so proud of you!" Sarah says while the others all chime in with their own praise.

"Awesome, a job almost as boring as you!" Harry says snidely. He usually isn't so blunt, but he's had a few drinks in him.

"Harry- dude, c'mon," Mitch sighs.

"N-no, I get it," Y/N interjects. "It definitely sounds boring just saying it, but I'll be fixing binding on really old books and helping people out with-" Y/N is interrupted when Harry starts dramatically snoring. Y/N looks around the table, getting visibly embarrassed.

"Alright, H, I think you're tapped out. You're being an asshole," Niall says and tries to push him out of the booth.

"Oh, come off it. I'm just joking," Harry rolls his eyes.

"It's fine, I got the joke," Y/N tries to laugh. "I'm going to go get another drink," she says before sliding out of the booth.

"Do you want me to come with?" Sarah asks, knowing about her friend's social anxiety.

"N-no, I'll be okay," Y/N reassures her and grabs her purse before walking off to the bar. She's wearing a big sweater and jeans to a bar, and it's pissing Harry off.

"You need to fucking lay off, man," Mitch says and throws a napkin at Harry. "Just because she doesn't work with lumber and hammers and whatever else manly shit that you do, doesn't mean her job isn't any less important."

"Actually, to be correct, I am a project manager for a multi-million-dollar company-"

"Shut up," Sarah groans.

"You're so mean to her- that's not you," Mitch sighs.

"I'm not fucking mean- she's just annoying. And look at all of you, wrapped around her finger, just like she wants."

Niall goes to speak but is interrupted by Sarah reading a message off of her phone.

I'm so sorry, but I started feeling really sick, so I went home. Hope you guys have fun!

Once Sarah finishes reading the message she looks at Harry with a glare.

"Well, how the hell is she getting home? Didn't you drive her?" Harry asks Sarah.

"Oh, are you worried?" She asks with a condescending tone.

"Shut up."

Y/N thinks this is the first actual party she's been invited to. Sure she went to her fair share of birthday parties and sleepovers, but they were all PG. Never had she seen so many red solo cups in one place before. One of her friends released an EP, and they're celebrating by hosting a huge party at their apartment.

Sarah helped her pick out her entire outfit and assured her she looks amazing. Y/N has always struggled with her appearance because her parents weren't around very much. Between business trips and trying to live their own lives, there wasn't time to acknowledge their daughter. She would be dragged to their business parties, and she would just feel surrounded by a bunch of white bigoted men who thought they were superior just because they get fat checks.

When they arrived, they were immediately greeted by the stench of alcohol and weed. The apartment was crowded and loud, and Y/N was beginning to get nervous.

"Hey, it's okay," Sarah assures her, and she nods in agreement. "Let's go find our people," Sarah suggests and loops her arm with Y/N's.

"I think I see Niall," Y/N points out, and her theory was proven correct when she hears his booming laugh. It eases her nerves, and she wraps her arm around her shoulder when she finally gets next to him. He's standing with Mitch, Harry, and a few other people she's casually met before. Sarah greets Mitch with a kiss and settles into his side.

"Y/N!" Niall shouts when he finally realizes who's hugging him. He embraces her, and she can tell he's a bit drunk with the way he leans his weight on her. "I didn't think you'd come!"

"None of us did," Harry interjected lowly under his breath, but she still heard him. They hadn't really interacted since that night at the bar.

"Harry," she nods to him when Niall releases her. He barely acknowledges her before he turns back to the guy he was talking to, but he can't help the way his gaze would sometimes drift back to her. It's so annoying how pretty she can be without even trying.

Harry hates how enamoring she is.

"Harry, oh my gosh, how are you?" He hears a voice come up from behind him then feels a hand wrap around his arm. Emma. A clingy girl he hooked up with about a month ago- a good distraction from the thoughts he's facing at the moment. He wraps his arm around her shoulder as if he cares about seeing her.

"Hey, babe, I'm good," he tells her.

Y/N watches the scene and tries to limit the disgust that wants to appear on her face. Niall wonders off, and she's left alone with the pair.

"Who's this?" Emma suddenly asks Harry, as if she is entitled to any kind of ownership over Harry. He wants to be pissed off, but he also wants Y/N to go away.

"My friend's friend," Harry tells her. Y/N feels her heart pang. He couldn't even call her his friend out of convenience.

"Oh, interesting," she says, and Harry can tell she's not convinced.

"Yeah, I'm Y/N! It's actually my first party, and you're really pretty! Do you-" She's cut off by the girl who's practically hanging off of Harry's arm.

"Do you have a thing for Harry?" She asks.

"Oh! What? No- no-"

"Chill, Emma," Harry says, and Y/N almost thanks him before he continues, "Don't worry, she's the complete opposite of my type," he assures with a cocky smirk. The two laugh, and Y/N wills herself to walk away.

It's an hour and a half later, and Y/N is more than ready to go home. She's leaned against a wall, her phone dead and her head hurting. She doesn't have the strength to go find her friends, and she's kind of hurt they've all left her at her first party. She knows that this isn't about her, but she's scared and nervous, and they knew that but still begged her to come. She's just sad and scared and wants to go home.

"Hey, are you okay?" She hears someone ask in her ear, and she almost jumps out of her skin.

"Oh gosh, you scared me!" She gasps and meets the eyes of who's talking to her. He's a very cute boy who's holding a red solo cup.

"Sorry!" He apologizes and touches her shoulder with a smile. She smiles back. "I'm Ian," He introduces himself, shaking her hand in his.

"I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you," she tells him.

"So, I take it you don't usually come to parties," He asks, and she nods.

"My first one actually," she grimaces.

"Let's go get you a drink," he suggests and takes her hand in his, not waiting for an answer before taking her to the kitchen. It's surprisingly empty when they walk in.

"I don't- I uh- I don't drink," she admits.

"Ah, c'mon. One drink won't hurt," he tries to persuade her.

"No, thank you," she says again.

"Alright," he settles. "I think this punch is non-alcoholic," he says to himself and grabs her a cup. She zones out as he pours her a cup. She thinks this guy is cute, but she really just wants to go home. She's broken out of her thoughts when a cup is being handed to her, and an arm is being thrown around her shoulder. Her eyebrows furrow as 'Ian' leans closer to her. "Are you going to say thank you?" He asks, and his tone makes her skin crawl. She laughs awkwardly and tries to shift away from him, but his hands move to her waist and his grip is too tight.

"Ah- that hurts," she tells him, but he only tightens his grip, so she can't move. "I- I want to leave," she whimpers.

"Yeah? Let's go to mine," he says and tries to lean forward to put his mouth on her.

"No- no," she says and tries to push at him.

"Just one little kiss," he tells her. Her first kiss was about to be took from her. Tears roll down her cheeks as he gets closer, but fortunately, he's suddenly being roughly pulled away from her.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Harry's loud and rough voice makes its way to her ears.

"Ay- the fuck, man? We're a bit busy," the scumbag tells Harry. "Didn't realize she was already claimed."

"A woman doesn't need to be claimed for you to not force yourself on her. Walk away, or I'm going to drown you in this punch," Harry warns, and the dude scurries off.

Harry's glare makes her want to cry all the more.

"C'mon," he says gruffly and with a gentle hand, he wraps his hand around her wrist, pulling her all the way outside and to his car. She doesn't even think twice about getting into his car and buckling. Her mind is a state of fog. Harry starts the car and rests his head against the steering wheel, his breathing rapid.

"Are you okay?" She asks gently.

"You- You're asking me if I'm okay?" He laughs condescendingly and buckles himself in before putting the car in drive.

"Well, you seem really mad, and- and maybe you shouldn't drive if-"

"I need you to stop talking," he says suddenly. "I mean seriously- what were you thinking, Y/N?" He asks with his voice raised.

"I don't- I don't-"

"Yeah, you don't think." Harry doesn't think he's ever been this mad before. He saw the beginnings of her and the guy- him practically dragging her to the kitchen and her just going along with it. He saw red. "Did you even watch as he poured you a drink? Do you even know this guy before you just ran off with him?" His questions upset her further, making her feel stupid.

"I was- I was just flustered, and I wanted to go home, and I didn't know what to do-"

"You don't fucking follow a random dickhead alone at a party!" His voice is loud in the small car. It's quiet for a moment, giving him a second to just focus on the road in front of him as he heads to her house when he hears a stifled cry that breaks him out of his moment. "Are you crying?" His anger falters.

"Well, yeah!" She sobs. "I was left alone at my first party- then I almost get molested- now, I was forced to get in the car with you, and- and- and I'm just scared!" She cries.

Harry doesn't particularly know what to do in this situation. All he knows is that his heart is twisting and pulling in his chest.

"There's nothing to be scared about now." His voice is incredibly softer than before.

"I'm stuck in- in the car of the guy who hates me, and I'm scared," she whimpers, her chest heaving as she tries to suck in air between each word.

Harry's heart dies.

"You're scared of me?" His voice is quiet and insecure.

"Yes," she says simply as if she doesn't understand the gravity of her words. Harry continues driving as he feels wet droplets fall down his cheeks. "Are you- Are you crying?" She asks, concerned but also confused. The tables have turned.

"Well, yeah!" He laughs sadly. He's never felt more like a piece of shit.

"Um- I don't- I don't know what to do," she admits. The car is silent until they pull into her driveway. Harry still has tears running down his cheeks, and Y/N feels frozen.

"Okay- we're um- we're here," he announces as if she doesn't know she's at her own home.

"Harry, why don't you come inside. I don't feel comfortable letting you drive home," she tells him.

"I'm f-fine," he tries to laugh it off, wiping roughly at his red eyes.

"If not for you, I really don't want to be alone right now," she admits.

"But I thought- You're scared of me?" He questions.

"I was merely being dramatic. Tonight was heavy, and you're the most unlikely person to be with at the moment," she explains. "C'mon. I'll brew us a pot of tea," she encourages and gets out of the car. Harry thinks for a moment before ultimately getting out of the car and sheepishly following her up. She unlocks the door and ushers him inside quickly before her mut could escape.

"Hi, Pickle," he greets her dog quietly.

"You remember his name," she says, shocked while bending down to scratch at Pickle's ears.

"'Course," he agrees and also pets her dog.

"Okay, I'm going to go put on a pot of tea. Make yourself comfortable," she tells him before scurrying off to her kitchen.

Harry, still feeling emotional, wanders around the room, looking at pictures. He notices he's not in any. He knows he had no right to be. Still, it makes him cry harder.

"Okay, I've got- oh," she freezes with two cups of tea in her hands as she watches Harry breaking down in front of her. She sets the tea down on her coffee table. "Why don't you come sit down, Harry?" She suggests with a soft voice and sits down on the couch herself.

"I'm sorry. This is so em-embarrassing," he cries and plops down on the couch, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shake.

"Um do you- I can-" Y/N splutters words as she tries to figure out what to do. "Do you want a hug?" She finally asks. She thinks she's the one that should be being comforted right now, but it almost makes her happy to see this side of Harry. Not that she enjoys anyone's sadness, but it's nice to see him vulnerable instead of conniving. Harry slowly looks up at her, and she holds her arms out. He cries as he shuffles into her arms. His face is buried in her chest as she rubs at his back.

"I'm sorry, that's not who I am," he repeats over and over even though she shushes him. They stay in this position, Harry's arms wrapped around her and hers around him as Harry starts to calm down. Harry takes in the moment. She smells fucking divine and feels so soft against him. He never wants to move. Then her phone rings. She starts to get up, but he shakes his head groaning, "No."

"Okay, then," she sighs before shifting to get her phone out of her back pocket. Harry lays flat against her body as she answers Sarah's phone call, his nose nudging at her tummy as he continues to sniffle. She courses her fingers through his hair making him stifle back a moan. He can't believe the full 180 his brain has done on him, but he can't find an ounce of hatred he once felt towards her. He doesn't want to either.

"Hello?" She answers.

"Y/N? Oh, Y/N, I've been looking for you. Where are you?" Sarah asks frantically, and Y/N can barely hear her over the loud party music.

"I uh- I left," she tells her, and Harry rests his chin on her chest to look up at her. She hates to admit it, but her breath gets caught in her throat looking at Harry's red, puffy eyes. She's always thought he's the most attractive person she's ever met, but right now, he looks so effortlessly pretty. He looks gentle for the first time ever.

"Are you safe? Where are you?" Sarah continues to ask.

"I'm home."

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so, so sorry. I thought Niall would have stayed with you, so I thought it was okay to leave you with him, but he didn't and-"

"It's okay, Sarah," she assures. She doesn't want her friend to feel bad. The thought makes her stomach churn.

"No, it's not," Harry counters, and Y/N presses a finger to her lips, but it's too late.

"Is that Harry?" Sarah asks.

"Um, yeah. He took me home. There was a slight problem at the party- some guy wasn't leaving me alone," Y/N explains.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. Can I come over? Mitch and I will bring food, and Niall can-"

"No, no, Sarah it's okay! You don't have to do any of that. Harry's not bothering me- we're good." Harry smiles at that and lays his head back down on her chest.

"Okay," Sarah replies, doubtful. "I'm going to make it up to you. It was so fucking inconsiderate of me, especially with your past and anxiety-"

"Okay, Sarah, I got to go!" She says. Harry caught the last of what Sarah said, and his eyebrows furrow. They say their goodbyes before hanging up. Y/N sighs and tilts her head up to stare at the ceiling. They sit in silence as Harry's sniffling comes to an end. "Feel better?" she breaks the silence.

"Uh, yeah," Harry answers. "What did Sarah mean by 'your past'?" Harry asks. He feels Y/N tense, and he immediately regrets asking. "I'm sorry- you don't have to answer. I was being-"

"No, it's okay," she sighs. "I just- my parents weren't the greatest, and I just struggle with crowded environments," Y/N explains loosely.

"Oh," Harry answers. "I'm sorry," he adds.

"It's fine. People have it worse than me."

"It's still okay to be upset by it," Harry rebuts.

"Thanks, Harry, but you're kind of the last person I will take advice from. No offense," she tries to explain gently.

"Fair enough," he laughs without humor. He feels her push at his shoulder, so he takes the hint and gets off her. He wants to whine from the loss of her touch, and it confuses him.

"You're really confusing me, Harry," Y/N admits as she sits up. She grabs her own tea and takes a sip before continuing. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful doing something so domestic. "I mean, you've done a complete 180 in your behavior, and as much as I enjoy you not tormenting me anymore," Harry winces, "I don't understand it, and I don't trust it. I don't trust you."

"I know, I know," he sighs and covers his face with his hands. "I don't understand it either," he admits. Y/N scoffs and puts her cup down. "What?" he asks.

"You don't want to hear it," she mutters.

"Tell me," he encourages.

"It's just- It's really unfair, Harry. You do understand that, right?"

"I don't-" He looks at her in confusion. She continues.

"You can't just completely change your behavior in the course of an hour. I let you have peace for a while because I could tell you were really upset, but if you want to move forward- it's going to take a lot from the both of us," she explains.

A long silence ensues.

"I'm stupid- I'm sorry. You probably don't even care about any of that. Jesus-"

Harry realizes at the moment the exact mental state his actions have and still put her brain in. He makes her insecure and scared. His mom and sister would be so disappointed.

"Stop, Y/N, stop," he pleads. She stops. "Don't talk about yourself that way," he grimaces.

"That's how you talk about me to my face," she counters. "What the fuck else am I supposed to think?" Harry thinks that's the first time he's ever heard her curse. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice like that," she sighs and ducks her head. Harry can't help but admire her now. His brain is so mushed and confused with this sudden switch.

"Don't- don't apologize. I deserve much worse," he admits.

"I just don't understand your motive. Is this a joke?" she asks.

"Y/N, I'm being honest when I say I don't understand myself either. When I used to see you, you would just anger me. You reminded me of girls in high school that would bully my sister. They all started out super nice and kind, but somewhere along the way, they would realize that they had my sister wrapped around their finger, and they would toy with her. I love my mom and my sister, and I will always protect them and those around me, and so I just hated you. Dad was never around, so I had to step up."

The confession makes Harry feel as if a pile of bricks was finally removed from his chest. He realizes this is how he would have felt if he had just talked to Y/N in the beginning.

"I guess I can understand more now where your behavior came from but- I'm not like that. You've known me for so long, and I've never- I'm not-"

"Y/N, I don't think you realize just how completely entranced everyone is with you. Anyone would do anything for you because of the spell you put on people," Harry explains. "And I see now that it's not a bad thing to be under your spell. You're kind and patient and good. I've always known that. I just didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to like you, but how can I not?" By the end of Harry's speech, they're both in tears.

The draw he feels for her is indescribable.

He's leaning in before he knows it. His hand on her cheek, her eyes wide in surprise and confusion. Their lips are close when she speaks.

"What- What are you doing?" she stutters.

"Please," he whispers.

"Please what?" she asks. He doesn't know if she genuinely doesn't know what he's doing, or if she's asking him to beg, but both ideas make his dick harden.

"Please let me kiss you," he begs. He places his lips against her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, relishing in the way she sighs and softly moans. He cups her face with both hands, but before he could place their lips together, she stops him. She places both her hands on his wrists and turns her head.

"Harry, no," she whimpers. He immediately stops.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I don't- I don't know," she stammers.

"Talk to me, what's wrong?" Harry presses.

"I just- Harry, I want my first kiss to be with someone who actually likes me," she admits.

"I- I do like you," Harry tells her. "Wait- your first kiss?"

"Yeah, my first," she says sheepishly. "And I want it to be with someone who is attracted to me."

"I am attracted to you!" Harry encourages.

"No- Harry, you said it yourself- literally tonight- that I am 'the opposite of your type'," you counter while using air-quotes.

"That wasn't-" Harry realizes he's dug himself into a deep hole.

"It's okay, Harry. I know that it's going to be harder to find someone who likes me, but I know it can happen, and I want all my firsts to be with that person," Y/N explains. "I'm not going to kiss someone who just feels bad for me," she says, shaking herself out of his grip to look away, but he turns her face back to him.

"I am, Y/N. I am so attracted to you, and I think that's why I was even more of a dick because I hated that I was so fucking attracted to you," Harry tries to tell her, but she softly shakes her head with a sad smile.

"But you don't like me."

"I do."

"I can't tell. You have to realize how absurd your behavior is to me, right now. Harry, you've been so awful to me for so long, and I'm just not ready to forgive or believe you, I'm sorry- it's too quick," she tells him, her eyes holding all sincerity. Harry feels his own well up again, and she cups his cheek because even though she doesn't trust Harry, she never wants to see anyone sad. "Thank you for- for explaining to me why you acted the way you did- while it doesn't excuse your actions, I do appreciate it and your heart for your family and friends, and I'm more than willing to begin trying now with you." Her explanation ends with Harry in tears and her thumbs whipping them away. "Do you- Would you want to stay the night?" she asks.

Harry feels new hope in his chest.

"You sure?" he chokes out. She nods her head with a soft smile and stands. Harry looks up at her with all the wonder in the world and presses his chin to her stomach while she holds his hand.

"C'mon," she whispers, and she gasps quietly when he presses a gentle kiss to her clothed stomach before standing up with her.

They hold hands as they go to her bedroom, and Harry can't help the way he smiles.

"Let me go get you a change of clothes," Y/N says before disappearing in her closet. He looks around her room for a minute and can't help the comfort and warmth he feels. It's just so her. After a moment, he hears her talking in the closet and thinks she's telling him to come in. He opens the door, and his eyes grow wide when he sees her standing in front of her mirror in just her jeans and bra. Harry purses his lips as his eyes take in her body, and he fights the groan that wants to fall from his mouth. "Harry!" She gasps and covers her chest.

"Sorry!" He's finally broken out of gaze. "I thought I heard you- Hey, what is that?" His eyes zero in on the bruises that cover both sides of her waist and ribs. She looks down as well and bites her lip.

"Um, I think they're from that guy," she whispers defeatedly. He slowly moves closer to her, giving her time to back away or tell him to stop, but she just stares at him with wide glossy eyes. He carefully and with the utmost gentleness he can muster, places his hands on her hips. Softly caressing them, and the bruises littering her skin. He takes a moment just to take her in before speaking.

"I'll kill him," he sneers. It makes her softly laugh.

"No, you won't," she disagrees and shakes her head. "I'm okay," she says. dipping her head down to meet his eyes.

"You're very pretty," Harry counters. She blushes before moving away to get him clothes. Once she hands him the oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, she leaves the room to let him change. She finds and extra toothbrush for him, and once they both finish their night routine, they crawl into her bed, keeping to their own reserved sides and both staring at the ceiling. "Thank you for letting me stay," Harry says, his head turning to look at her. His breathing falters as he looks at her. She just smiles in return.

"Just no funny business," she says softly before reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. They sit in silence before Harry adjusts himself. They both quietly gasp when his hand skims her own. His hand freezes over hers for a moment before he gently intertwines their pinkies. She makes the bold decision to, with her free hand, lean over and feel for his cheek before planting the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. "Good night, Harry."

Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face and new hope settling into his mind.

Y/N wakes the following morning to a loud banging sound and a heavy weight on her chest. Her eyes squint open, the sun shining through her curtains and to her irises. She groans and closes her eyes again until she hears the banging continue. Her eyes are wide now with fear and confusion. She tries to move to grab her phone but quickly realizes her body is immobilized because of a big sleeping Harry laying on her, his shirt now off his chest. His mouth is slightly agape, laying at the top of her breast. His arms are encircled around her waist and holding her tight. It was much different from the pinkies they had entangled the previous night.

"Harry," she whispers and tries to budge his shoulder. He doesn't move, just continues to heavily breathe against her clothed tit. The banging, which Y/N has realized is just loud knocking, continues, and she really needs to get up. "Harry!" she says louder and pushes at his head. He groans and yawns sleepily. "Get up!" she demands, but he's barely conscious.

"Morning," he sighs dreamily and settles back down on her, pressing a wet kiss to the top of her boob. He's broken out of his dreamy state when he finally hears the knocking. "What the hell?" he groans and sits up on his elbows, still caging her in.

"I need to go see who's at the door," she whines and pushes at him. He whines as well and gets up, taking her hand in his to take them both to the front door.

"I'm going to kill whoever is out here," he tells her, and she laughs because she doesn't believe he's fully awake yet. She likes morning grumpy Harry a lot more than normal grumpy Harry. As soon as he opens the door, people are barging in.

"Finally!" Someone yells, and Y/N's able to place the voice to Niall. She watches as he, Mitch, and Sarah all welcome their selves into her home with bags of food. The chill from the outside makes her shrink into Harry's side, and he wraps an arm around her before shutting the door. He rubs his hand up and down her arm to create heat for her.

"Is someone going to tell me what you all are doing in my home on this Sunday morning? Not that I mind, of course," she says and hugs each one of them as they get their coats and hats off.

"We felt like shit after being the shittiest friends ever last night," Sarah explains.

"Hey-" Y/N begins to stop her, but Niall cuts her off.

"No, it's true, Y/N. Felt like my heart shattered in my chest when Sarah and Mitch came to me all panicked cause they couldn't find you," Niall explains. His eyebrow quirks as he watches his best friend, who seemed to still despise the girl not even twenty-four hours ago, wrap his sleepy body around her, his chin resting on her shoulder as his body pressed against hers from behind. "Though it looks as if it might have been for the best that we lost you," Niall suggests and cocks his head. Y/N shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips, saying 'yeah, I don't understand it either'.

"Anyways," Mitch breaks the silence. "We thought we'd bring you breakfast then go to the winter festival in town."

"Sounds perfect," she says and moves away from Harry to set the table. Harry has to physically stop himself from whining, but Niall, Sarah, and Mitch all see his pout and look at him with questioning eyes. He blushes under their questioning stares. When she walks into the kitchen to retrieve silverware, they start asking the questions.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah asks first.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry says innocently.

"You're acting like her pet, and not even a full day ago, you couldn't stand her. I'm definitely not saying it's a bad thing, but what-" Niall stops speaking because he genuinely doesn't know what to ask.

"Look, I don't understand it either," Harry begins, "But I just- I don't know. Something's changed. There was some weird fucking pervert at the party that was scaring her, and then when we were in the car, she admitted that she was scared of me, and it genuinely killed me to know that I was grouped in the same space in her head with that dickhead from the party," Harry explains. "I don't get it, but my mind has completely flipped, and all I want to do is just be around her."

"Wow," Mitch was the first to speak.

"Yeah, I know," Harry groans. "We had a really good talk last night, and I think she's willing to move forward."

"You know, Harry," Niall speaks, "There's a saying that there's a very fine line between love and hate," Niall sings with a mischievous voice.

"I'm not even going to argue with that," Harry sighs, and none of them have any time to speak on Harry's crazy admission because Y/N is coming back into the room with silverware, plates, and napkins. She eyes the tension in the room.

"What were you guys talking about?" she asks.

"Nothing, Angel. Let's get you some food," Harry tells her.

The town was decorated in the most beautiful festive decorations. Y/N felt real joy for the first time in a long time as she walked through the streets filled with vendors with her friends. She couldn't help how cute she thinks Harry looks as well. He borrowed a hoodie from her and was in his jeans and sneakers. He wore the hood up as he munched on a soft pretzel he bought. She couldn't help the urge to whip out her digital camera and snap a picture, not realizing the flash was on. She blushes when she realizes he caught her.

"Hey!" he accuses her. "I'm trying to eat my pretzel here!" He complains and pouts.

"Sorry," she laughs. "You just looked really cute," she admits. His cheeks flush red before he quickly shakes it away.

"Yeah? Well, you're cuter, and I'm keeping this hoodie by the way," he tells her before walking away. She follows him quickly and loops her arm around his waist to catch him.

Harry's cheeks seem as though they're now a permanent blush around her. He'd always seen how affectionate she was with their friends, and he thoroughly enjoyed finally being a receiver because he loves physical touch- especially from a very beautiful woman.

"You can't keep my hoodie, you thief. I barely have any as is," she complains and slips her hand under the hoodie to feel the plush at his hips. He always hated the extra skin at his waist, but now he thanks his mother for it. He feels overtly bashful at her touch, like he wants to smile and kick his feet like a teenage girl with a crush.

"I'll buy you some more, Angel. Just tell me if there's a shop you want to walk in," he tells her gently and wraps the arm that isn't holding his pretzel around her shoulder.

"Give me a bite," she suddenly says. Harry gawks.

"Uh- sorry, what?" He stutters.

"Of your pretzel, you perv!" she laughs at his flustered expression.

"Oh!" he laughs and reaches his hand out in front of her to let her bite the pretzel from his hand. He gasps when she takes the rest of the pretzel into her mouth. "Hey!" he whines and pouts at his empty hand.

"Sorry," she apologizes once she finishes chewing. She squeezes his side as she speaks, "I was hungry," she says with an evil smirk.

"Rude. Very rude," he comments though he pulls her tighter against him.

Little did they know, all of their friends were snapping pictures of them from behind, snickering and chatting about the newfound lovebirds.

Y/N and Harry seemed to be attached by the hip as the weeks went on. It had been almost two months since their new friendship was born, and neither of them realized how much they would click. Many nights were spent having dinner, singing karaoke, and watching movies together. When they were with their friends, they were always attentive to each other and sitting by one another.

It's a Friday, and Harry was on his way to visit her library right now. He'd been visiting her a lot and using it as a nice place to get work done. Work had been pretty stressful for Harry recently. He was managing a project for his company that's building a new stadium, and it's challenging in ways he hasn't been before, so while he's thankful for the opportunity, it comes with a lot more planning and map-outs than usual.

When he walks in, he sees her at the counter. Her shift is over in an hour, and he told her he'd pick her up once she got off, but he decided he could get some work done while he waited.

She's re-binding a book when he walks up, totally engrossed in the practice. So much so that she doesn't see Harry looming over her across the counter. He rings the bell that sits next to a box of tissues on the counter. She jumps and gasps when she looks up. A bright smile quickly covers her face.

"You're here early, puppy!" She walks around the counter to greet him as he blushes over the nickname. Ever since they became friends, their friends joked about how Harry follows her around like a dog, so she decided the nickname was fitting.

She squeezes him tight and wraps her arms around his waist as she looks up at him. Her chin rests on his chest as she speaks.

"How was work? Are you sore? I can give you a massage when we go to mine. I've been watching a lot of videos because I know your back hurts you a lot, and-" She tends to lose all sort of mind whenever he's around, and he has to reign her in.

"Angel," he interrupts her and laughs when she pauses abruptly.

"Sorry, I was rambling," she blushes. He kisses her forehead.

"It's okay. I love hearing you speak," he tells her honestly.

Harry never takes for granted the way she speaks to him because there used to be a time when she was too afraid to.

"I would love a massage, my love," he tells her and kisses her temple. "Work was good- fun. Got to tear down walls today, and that's always really fun, and before you ask, I promise I was wearing all the right gear, so don't go scolding me," he eyes her, and she smirks.

"Good boy," she says.

Harry damn near busts in his jeans at her praise. She continues talking like nothing happened.

"Why are you here so early? I don't get off for another hour."

"I- um. I- I know. I was- I figured I could get some work done," he stutters out.

"Okay, silly," she laughs at his speech. She unwraps herself from him and walks behind the counter. "You can sit back here with me. I'm the only one working," she offers, and he nods his head. She places a stool next to hers, and they both get to work for the next hour.

"We've watched this movie a billion times, H! Not again!" Y/N complains when Harry tries to put on The Notebook for the millionth time. They're both cozied on her couch after eating some takeout sushi. Harry's wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of grey sweats. Y/N's wearing a new purple hoodie Harry bought for her and a pair of tiny sleep shorts. Harry had been fighting the urge to stare at her thighs since they got back.

"Well, until you get some good movie taste, we're watching mine." They're banter was playful and not harmful.

Y/N huffed as he started the movie and scooted to other side of her couch, away from him.

"Don't be mad at me, sweet girl," he says before pulling her sideways into his lap. "Be mad at yourself and your terrible movies," he laughs and tightens his arms around her when she tries to escape his hold. She continues to squirm until he pulls her close and bites down on her neck. She lets an airy moan escape her lips as he sucks and kisses at the spot.

"Teething at me like a needy puppy," she tells him and cards her fingers through his hair. Y/N has never been with a boy before, so she doesn't know if what her and Harry are doing is normal or not for just friends, but she doesn't care. She just likes what he does. "Are you seeing anyone right now?" she asks him out of nowhere. The angst she would feel if he said yes would make her cry.

"I'm seeing you all the time," he tells her and kisses at her chin and jawline. It was when Harry got like this that she had a hard time thinking clearly. She thinks she would say yes to whatever he asked if he was being as lovey as he gets.

"I mean are you dating any girl right now," she corrects him.

"I know what you meant, Angel," he tells her. "I haven't seen anyone but you since the night of the party," he says honestly, and it makes her smile and place her head against his chest. He runs his fingers through her hair as he speaks. "It's totally okay whatever your answer is to this, but I wanted to ask you." Her head quirks up to look at him with a confused face. "Have you uh- Have you forgiven me?" He asks, and he immediately looks away. "It is more than okay if you haven't because I was incredibly awful to you for so long, and I know if I was you, I would have a hard time-" She presses her hand against his mouth to shut him up.

"I forgive you, Harry," she says. "Forgave you a long time ago," she tells him honestly and releases her hand from his mouth.

"You serious?" he asks, and she nods. His eyes well with tears, and he hugs her to his chest. "Thank you. I don't deserve you," he whispers into her hair and kisses her head. They watch the movie for a while until Harry speaks again. "You remember that night when I tried to kiss you?" He asks.

"'Course," she tells him, wondering why he's bringing it up.

"Have you kissed anyone since then?" She sits up to look at him.

"Now when would I have had the time to?" She gestures to his hold on her. "You've got me locked down 24/7," she laughs.

"Would you say no if I asked to kiss you now?" he asks, bracing himself for the answer. She takes a moment to think about it.

"I would definitely let you kiss me," she tells him, and he grabs her face, about to plant a big smooch on her lips until she stops him, laughing at his eagerness. "But wouldn't that make this weird?"

"Make what weird?" he asks.

"Us," she tells him.

"Nothing has to be weird unless you make it weird," he tells her.

"But- but we're in such a good place as friends-"

"Friends kiss all the time!" Harry counters, though it makes his heart clench at the thought of them just being friends. "Though I do think we're a bit more than that," he adds, and she smiles. He becomes serious again, holding both sides of her face in his strong, rough hands. "I'll make it so good for you," he promises.

"I don't know, puppy," she sighs, but they both know she wants it. She just wants to make him work for it a bit.

"Please, please," he whispers.

"Just one little kiss," she tells him. He nods his head and begins to lean forward. She cups both of his wrists like she had done that first night and breathes shakily until his lips finally meet hers. She sighs, her first kiss finally taken. She doesn't even know if it counts as a kiss because their lips are just pressed together until they start smiling against each other. She pulls back to giggle, but he pulls her back in, this time actually kissing her. His lips massage her own, and she doesn't really know what's she's doing, but she just tries to mimic his actions. He moans as she picks up on it quite quickly. "Okay," she breathes and backs away. Harry whines and cups the back of her neck to try and reel her in.

"Please. A little more. You're so good- taste heavenly," he comments. Harry feels like he's experiencing his first kiss again as well. Nothing had ever felt like that before. Nothing had ever felt so good. He could feel himself chubbing up in his pants just from the one kiss.

"I told you one kiss, Harry," she reprimands him, but he shakes his head.

"Was it not good for you?" He asks. He knows she enjoyed it. She's panting like a dog in heat, and he can see her subconsciously pressing her thighs together. He just wants her to kiss him again. "My lips not good enough for your perfect mouth, pet?" he asks with a pout and lets a finger caress her bottom lip.

"No, that's not it at all, Harry!" she says eagerly. "It was perfect. The best first kiss I could have asked for. I just don't want to complicate things," she tells him.

"It's already complicated, babe. That's our thing," he tries to reason, and she laughs. He can see her slowly start to let down her wall, and he takes the opportunity to lean down and kiss at her neck and jaw, trying to coerce her more.

"It did feel very good," she sighs and grabs the back of his neck, holding him against her own.

"Yeah?" he mumbles against her skin before sucking a hickey into her neck.

"Yeah," she moans softly. "Okay, okay, I don't care anymore. Just kiss me," she begs.

"Sound so sweet begging for me," he tells her and cups her cheeks, caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs. Her eyes well as she waits for him to lay one on her.

"Harry, c'mon," she whimpers.

"Don't cry on me," he coos. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait. I'll give you what you want, my love," he assures her and with that, plants his lips back on hers. She's more eager this time around. Her lips move more feral against his, and he groans deeply when she nips at his bottom lip. The exchanging of saliva makes her feel dirty in the best way possible. She's still sitting sideways on her lap, but her body is aching for her to straddle his thighs and grind against his crotch as she pushes her tongue against his. Harry realizes very quickly how dirty she is for being a virgin. Her tongue found its way into his mouth first, and she didn't hesitate to mold hers against his. Harry fights the urge to move his hands lower and grasp at her body, but he doesn't want to scare her by moving too quickly. Luckily, he doesn't have to wait much longer until she's requesting exactly what he wanted.

"Can I sit in your lap?" she asks breathlessly. She doesn't let him speak, instead missing the way his mouth felt against hers too bad that she kisses him again, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling in a way that makes him whine.

"You are sitting in my lap," he mumbles against her lips.

"No, I mean like- Can I just show you?" she asks impatiently. He nods his head and chokes on his own spit as she straddles his thighs and presses her crotch down onto his roughly. "This okay?" she asks.

"S-so okay," he tells her and grips her hips.

"Why does that feel so good?" she asks rhetorically and continues to roll her hips against his.

"Baby- I don't think you know what you're doing," he tells her. She shrugs and continues to do it because it feels good against her pussy. "Wait, wait, wait," he makes her pause.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"More than," he assures her. "But I want to talk to you first before we go any farther."

"Okay, well hurry up because I would like to continue." He laughs at her horny, foggy mind that's making her bolder than usual.

"I need to know what all you've done- sexually speaking," he tells her.

"You know I'm a virgin, Harry," she says. "I've never done anything with anyone- well, until now," she smiles, and he reciprocates.

"Right, but what have you done by yourself?" he asks, and she blushes. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he reassures her.

"I've touched myself before," she admits, and he tries his best not to whimper at the thought.

"Okay. Do you know all the terms of anatomy down there?" he asks.

"Yes, professor," she laughs.

"So, when you touch yourself, do you just play with your pretty little clit, or do you put fingers into yourself? Or do you have a toy?" She becomes bashful at his blunt speech.

"I usually do one finger inside and my other hand playing with my clit," she admits shyly.

"You're so fucking hot," he tells her honestly before grabbing her face to kiss her. She moans at his roughness. "Okay, okay, wait," he stops himself. She whines. "I need to know what you're comfortable with us doing, my love," he tells her.

"I just want to keep doing what we're doing," she whimpers.

"Okay? You like grinding yourself against me?" He asks, and she nods her head while biting her lip. Harry wishes he had his phone to take a picture of her. The embodiment of sex, and she didn't even realize. "We can both cum from that," he tells her. "You want to- Do you want to go that far?" he asks, and she nods her head eagerly. "Words," he commands.

"Yes, yes please," she begs.

"How would you feel about both of us stripping to our underwear, so we can feel each other a bit better?" he asks.

"Sounds really good, Harry," she says and immediately stands up to take her shorts off, but he stops her.

"You're incredibly cute with how eager you are," he laughs, and she turns red. He kisses her clothed stomach to assure her it's nothing to be ashamed of. "Let me take them off," he suggests. What she didn't expect was for Harry to sink to his knees in front of her and kiss at her thighs a bit first. It makes her feel extra hot having his mouth so close to her core. "Have you ever watched porn?" he asks suddenly as he bites a hickey into her thigh.

"Yes," she says breathily.

"What do you watch, dirty girl?" he asks as he sinks his teeth into the waistband of her shorts and starts to pull them down her legs.

"Um-" she stutters at the question.

"It's okay," he assures her. "It's just me," he says and squeezes her thighs in support. It was like those three words were all the encouragement she needed. He rests his chin between her thighs as she begins to speak.

"Well, I like to watch men um- eating out girls. I like to watch rough stuff, and I think I would like that a lot, but I think I would also like to just make love," she explains. "I also like watching girls giving blowjobs," she says suddenly like she had almost forgotten. "I also," she begins but stops herself in embarrassment.

"What is it? You're safe to talk to me, Angel," he assures her.

"I like to... read about things," she says.

"Okay. Explain," he tells her.

"Well, like- smut. I like to read little things people write about people fucking," she admits shyly.

"And what are the people doing in your favorite ones?" he asks.

"I like when they write the guy just being completely overtaken by his natural instincts to- to fuck the girl- almost feral- he's just taking what he wants, you know?" she explains.

"Did you know you're perfect? Like actually fucking enthralling?" he asks and basks in the way her face reddens. "I'm serious, Y/N," he tells her.

"Thank you, H. You're very captivating yourself," she comments.

"Oh?" he questions as he stands. His nose meets hers and they play tag with their mouth for a moment before she just leans forward and pecks him.

"You're an incredibly beautiful man. Always thought so- even before," she says honestly. His heart twists a bit at the mention of before. "The most alluring man I've ever seen," she tells him.

"You can't mean that," he disagrees, and his breathing shakes when he feels her play with the waistband of his sweatpants.

"I can, and I do," she tells him and presses her hand over the large bulge in his sweatpants. He actually moans from the contact- not expecting it from her.

"You're dirty," he gasps, and they both laugh. She doesn't waste another second before pulling his sweats down his legs and letting him step out of them.

She sits on her knees to love on him a bit. She's always loved his meaty sides, and now that she has the opportunity, she doesn't think twice before sinking her teeth into his loves handles. She smiles when he gasps as she kisses and nipples at his flesh. She surprises him once again when she presses her mouth against the bulge, letting her hot breath feed into the fabric and to his cock. He wants to push her away because he's afraid he's going to cum too soon, but he also knows that's the stupidest idea when he's got the most irresistible woman in the world with her mouth on him. It's when he feels her lick at his tip through his briefs when he back away and sits on the couch, shielding his clothed dick with his hands as if to protect himself from her.

She smiles at him as devilishly as an angel could. "You have an oral fixation," he notes, and she shrugs.

"Let's get to the fun stuff," she whines and crawls all the way to the couch and onto his lap. Harry doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on.

"You know you're every man's fantasy?" he asks, and she cocks her head in confusion. "A hot librarian," he expands, and she laughs.

"Yeah? You want me to read you a bedtime story, baby?" she asks, trying to make her voice sound sultrier, and it works. Harry's dick twitches in his boxers.

"I'm gonna cream in my boxers," he warns, and she laughs.

"Please, don't. We haven't even had any fun yet," she complains, and he shakes his head in amusement.

"Just start rubbing your cute little cunt on my cock," he instructs her, and she wastes no time before she puts her hands on his shoulders and begins to rut against him.

"Oh," she gasps. From the way his dick is positioned in his underwear, it's perfectly laid out for her to rub her clit against. "Is your- Is your dick big?" she suddenly asks. Harry, who was in a trance already from the way she was shamelessly grinding on him, splutters for words from her question.

"W-What?" he asks, his hips jutting up to press against her roughly out of instinct. They both moan at the sensation.

"It just- It feels really big, and sometimes you get a big bulge in your pants," she moans and bounces on his lap, trying to catch her clit on his tip.

"I have been told it is- yeah," he tells her. To be honest, he knows his dick is big. He knows it's really big. He usually would be cocky about it, but he doesn't want to scare her.

"Can I see?" she asks breathlessly.

"What?" he asks, his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Well," she begins, her hips stopping their movement. "I was just thinking that if maybe you were naked that it might feel better," she tells him. Harry's frozen in shock, but she takes it as him being unsure. "C'mon, please," she begs. "I'll let you cum on me," she adds.

"Where?" he asks.

"My- my pussy," she says quietly.

"Hop up," he tells her, and she quickly crawls to the spot on the couch next to him. She's about bouncing from how excited she is.

"Take your shirt off too." He laughs at how demanding the virgin is being.

"Need to spank your attitude out of you," he says as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah, right," she scoffs but is silenced with his glare.

"I'm not going to show you my dick if you're going to be mean," he tells her and watches how her eyes round with wetness.

"I'm not being mean!" she complains.

"Yeah, you are, pet. And I'm being so nice to you- showing you everything, and you're acting like you don't care," he reprimands her. He's surprised when he feels her arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug.

"I'm sorry, Harry. Please, puppy. Show me, please. I'll be so sweet to you," she pleads, her voice muffled in his neck. Harry smiles, feeling like he's won the jackpot in life.

"Give me a kiss first," he commands, and she acts quick. Because she acted on fast movements, her hands lands his neck to stabilize herself. Harry moans at the pressure it provides for him.

"You like my hand around your neck?" she asks. He feels himself begin to nod submissively but remembers that he needs to be in charge for the moment. He switches on her, instead cupping her neck with his hand. She gasps, and her jaw falls from the movement.

"I do, baby, about as much as I like my hand around yours." He uses the grip he has on her throat to pull her closer and spit into her mouth. She moans and swallows easily. "Okay, enough foreplay," he tells her and releases her neck to shimmy his underwear off. The gasp he hears from her when his dick comes into view is welcomed gladly.

"It's so big, H," she tells him and continues to stare at it. She gulps at the thought of it being inside of her.

"Don't have to worry about it being inside you tonight, pet," he tells her as if he could read her mind. "It's gonna make you feel so good though."

"It's so pretty, puppy," she tells him, and she feels the urge to put her mouth on him, but she holds back, not wanting to upset him.

He pets her hair as he talks to her, "Can we try a different position than last time?" he asks.

"Whatever you want to do," she tells him, and he smiles.

"Just make sure to let me know if you don't feel good or like what I'm doing," he asks as he cups her face. She smiles softly and leans forward to lightly kiss him.

"Thank you for doing this, Harry," she tells him sincerely and places another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for letting me," he says. They both lock eyes and their lips meet again, completely forgetting about what they were supposed to be doing. The kiss is passionate instead of rough. Their lips are eager but not rushed. Harry ends it with pecking her lips a few times, making her giggle. "Okay, enough sap. We can do that after. I feel like I'm going to burst," he says, and she laughs.

"How do you want me?" she asks.

"On your knees, face pressed against the couch," he tells her, and she blushes before complying. Harry moans as she sticks her ass in the air. He's quick to get on his own knees behind her. He holds his dick up and places himself against her, grabbing her hips once he's in place. They both groan at the contact. He slowly starts to use the leverage he has on her hips to grind her against him, making sure to angle her up, so her clit is grinding against him.

"That feel so good, puppy," she whines and begins to throw her hips back at him. His hold on her tightens, but he allows her to help his efforts in making them both feel good. Harry has never done anything like this before, and it feels so fucking good. He raises her up enough so that her clit is catching at his tip before he lowers her back down to rub along his length. He thanks his job for the strength he has to lift her up and down on him like this. He takes a break from the rubbing to harshly thrust his hips against her as if he was fucking her for real.

"I can't wait to have my dick inside you," he moans.

"Yeah, baby?" she asks breathlessly, and he whines a yes. He groans when he feels her wetness seep from her panties onto his cock.

"Creamy little pussy," he moans and takes his dick away from her for a moment to rub his finger on her clothed clit. Her hips just forward at the surprising touch, but he lightly spanks her as a warning to stay in place. His finger ventures up to press at her hold through the opening, and the whiny moan that she releases only makes him press harder.

"I wanna see your face," she says quietly, and he could almost cry from how sweet she sounds. He taps her hip, so she takes the hint and turns around to lay flat on her back. She smiles up at him once she can see him, and he can't believe there was ever a time where he hated this girl.

"You're so beautiful, and you're doing so good for me," he tells her as he cups her head and kisses her hair. "Do you feel good?" he asks.

"Very," she answers quickly. "I want to try something though," she says shyly.

"What is it? Whatever you want," he assures.

"Can I show you?" she asks, and he nods his head. He gasps when she wraps a gentle hand around his dick, a bit of precum slipping from the tip when she gives a little tug. He thinks he dies when she slips her underwear to the side and places her bare dick against her naked pussy. She throws her head back at the contact and more cum oozes from Harry's dick.

"Oh, baby," he moans and places a hand on the length of his dick to press down on it as he glides against her pussy. She isn't shaved, but she's trimmed and well-groomed like Harry is, and it makes it feel so much better with the extra sensation. He uses two fingers to spread her open, so his dick rubs right over her clit, and he thinks she might die at the expression she makes. Her mouth is dropped, and her eyebrows are scrunched together in pleasure. She holds her thighs up and apart for him, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so attracted to a human.

"You're leaking so much," she moans as she looks down at them together.

"It's for you- It's all for you," he whines and ruts against her harder. She loves seeing him so whiny and submissive. She moves her panties so that her dick is actually inside of them now, so he doesn't have to hold it down anymore, and it makes them both moan to watch the erotic scene unfold. Her cotton panties are becoming see-through with their combined wetness.

"Love your dick, H," she moans and presses on him through her panties.

"I love your pussy," he moans back. "So fucking creamy and soft," he adds.

"I'm gonna cum," she tells him and grabs him by the back of the neck to kiss him. It's sloppy, and they're basically just trading saliva, but it makes it so much hotter. They're both so far gone.

"Please, Angel. Baby, please cum for me. Let me feel it," he says and moans when he feels her push on his dick harder, the pressure making her orgasm. It's intense and prolonged because Harry never stops moving. He can't help but cum as well when he feels his tip catch her hole. He fights the urge to just stuff her full with his dick, instead cumming against her pussy that's still covered by her, now, ruined panties.

"Wow," she breathes as they both feel the aftershocks. She pulls her panties to the side, and they both moan at the mess they created. He takes his softening dick and spreads his cum all over her. He leans down to smear a wet kiss against her lips, and they both sloppily make-out until Harry's weak arms give out, and he lays on top of her. They fall asleep in each other's embrace.

It's Y/N's second party.

This one is already going much better than the last. Harry hasn't let one second go by that he doesn't have some sort of physical contact with her. It's been two weeks since their moment at her house, and he hasn't let her forget about it.

Right now, Harry and Y/N are standing in the kitchen talking to some of Harry's friends. Well, Harry's talking to them, Y/N's basking in the way he has her back pressed against his chest, and how his hand is casually resting at the bottom of her throat. His casual dominance makes her pussy throb.

"You okay, pet?" his voice in her ear spooks her until she relaxes back into his hold. His friends are occupied with themselves for the moment, so he takes the opportunity to love on her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and discretely squeezing at her throat.

"Y-yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought," she explains.

"It's okay. Just let me know the second you're ready to leave, and we can go," he promises her. She rolls her eyes and turns around in his hold to look at him. His hands gravitate down to hold her ass with a smirk.

"You know you don't have to babysit me, right?" she asks.

"Not babysitting. Why would I want to be without you?" he asks like she's acting dumb. She goes to speak, but she's interrupted by his fratty friends.

"Hey, H! Come play beer pong with us!" One of them shouts at him and shoves at his shoulder, making both him and Y/N stumble a bit. He goes to reprimand him, but Y/N stops him.

"He would love to!" she tells them when she turns around.

"Y/N-"

"No, H. Go have some fun. I'll be fine, I swear. I'll go find Niall," she assures him.

"Harry, dude, c'mon. Tell your babe goodbye for like twenty minutes, man," they all laugh at how whipped he is. Harry glares at them. Y/N makes the decision for him.

She kisses his cheek and says, "I'll see you later!" Before she scurries away to find Niall. Harry's grumpy as he goes to play beer pong.

Y/N somehow found Niall easily. All she really had to do was stop for a second and listen for his laugh to follow it. It had been about thirty minutes since she had seen Harry, and she was certainly missing him.

"Can't believe how whipped H is for you," Niall tells her as they walk outside to find the firepit. His arm is slung protectively around her shoulder, and her hand is holding his that's wrapped around her.

"He is not," she counters. "We just like to spend time with each other," she explains, and Niall gives her a knowing look.

"He told me about the other night," he informs her.

"He did not!" she says suddenly and releases herself from his hold.

"He's my best mate, of course he did," he says easily.

"I'll kill him," she says seriously and starts to walk off to find him.

"Oh, c'mon, Y/N!" Niall whines and hugs himself over her shoulders as she storms off, trying to find the culprit. "It's not like he told me what all did! Just that you got a bit intimate but didn't go all the way," he explains. She grimaces when she spots where Harry is with his friends playing beer pong. Well, where he's supposed to be playing beer pong. Instead, he's talking with a girl who's a bit too close for Y/N's liking. Y/N also doesn't like how into the conversation Harry looks. He's talking with his hands, and his facial expressions are animated.

"Let's go inside," Y/N says suddenly, and Niall furrows his eyebrows.

"Why-" he begins to ask but then stops himself when he sees the reason she wants to go inside. "C'mon," he tells her and doesn't give her an option to say no before he's wrapping a strong arm around her shoulder and pulling her along.

"No! I don't want to see this!" she complains, but Niall says nothing as they approach the group. Harry's telling the girl something when his eyes land on Y/N. It's like his whole world stopped, and Y/n doesn't have time to process anything before she's being engulfed in a rough embrace and kisses are being pressed all over her face.

"Y/N!" His voice is loud and joyful. "Niall, get off her," Harry scolds, and Niall just laughs.

"Don't be rude, H," Y/N tells him, and Harry pouts. He sinks his head into her shoulder and holds her tightly around her waist.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Niall," he says loud enough for Niall to hear. His words are slurred.

"It's alright, H," Niall just laughs.

"Harry, this is nice, but I can't breathe," Y/N tells him.

"I wish I was small, so I could climb in your lap," Harry says randomly, and Niall's loud laugh is heard for miles. "It's not funny!" Harry complains. "Oh, wait!" Harry abruptly turns around to face the girl he was talking to who's looking at him unamused now. "This is my wife, Y/N. She's who I was telling you about and why I did not want to make-out with you at all!" Harry looks and sounds disgusted at the thought of making out with the girl, and Y/N gasps. Niall's laugh somehow grows louder. "Once you've tasted her fucking mouth- oh, fuck," Harry groans just thinking about Y/N's mouth. "And her pussy- holy shit!"

"Harry!" Y/N scolds. The girl walks off coldly.

"Bye!" Harry tells her, but she doesn't even look back at him. Y/N turns around to find Niall bent over, hugging his stomach in amusement. "What are you laughing at, Niall?" Harry asks him and goes over to hug him.

"Nothing, H," he says once he's put himself together enough. "You drink a little bit, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry says with an evil smirk. "I was so shit at beer pong, so I drank like so much, dude," he tells Niall.

"I think we should get you home, buddy," Niall tells him, and Harry whines. Y/N comes up to Harry's side and wraps her arm around his hip. He seems to remember that Y/N was there and gasps.

"I missed you so much," Harry mumbles into her hair.

"Harry, I would like to go home," she tells him.

"Okay, let's go!" he agrees with ease, and Niall rolls his eyes. Y/N, Harry, and Niall all make their way outside and to Niall's car. Y/N gets into the backseat because she expects Harry to sit in the front, but she's surprised when he climbs in right after her and sits so close he should practically be on her lap.

"Oy, what do I look like? An uber?" Niall says when he realizes he's alone in the front. He starts his car up and starts driving towards Y/N's house.

"Sorry, Niall," Y/N says and grunts when Harry encircles her waist with his big arms and smushes his face into her neck.

"It's alright. I'm just messing with you, babe," he tells her.

"Hey, don't call her that!" Harry grumbles.

"Don't be rude, Harry," Y/N scolds and lightly swats at his head.

"She is my babe, H," Niall tells him, just to mess with drunk Harry some more.

"She's not your anything!" Harry cries.

"Niall, stop messing with him," Y/N now scolds the Irish man, and he just laughs in return. She suddenly feels a hand on her cheek and Harry planting kisses all over her face. He moves his hand down to rest at her neck, so he can angle her face however he wants. "Niall, can you hurry up? I'm being attacked," Y/N says.

"I'm a law-abiding citizen, Y/N," Niall tells her.

"Oh, please. I've seen you speed to go get a donut," she grumbles and grimaces when she feels a tongue lick her cheek. "Ew, Harry!" she pushes at him, but he doesn't move.

"You taste so good," he says before he erupts into a fit of giggles. "Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits," he groans randomly, and Y/N thanks God when they finally pull into her driveway. "Alright, goodbye guys," she sighs before getting out of Niall's car. She raises her eyebrows at Harry when he tries to follow her out. "Um, what are you doing?" she asks him.

"Uh, spending the night with you," he responds like she's acting dumb.

"H, I'm going to take you to your house," Niall tells him.

"What? No!" he cries and hugs Y/N's waist tight when she tries to walk away from where she stands outside the car.

"H-" she begins to say, but she's stopped when she sees Harry's eyes full of tears and his whimpery voice begging.

"Please, I'll be so good for you," he pleads, and she sighs. Niall doesn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted. He settles on taking a picture of a sad Harry practically wrapped around Y/N to send to him later. "Please, Angel. I don't want to be away from you," he cries, and how can Y/N argue with his pitiful little state?

"Alright, H. C'mon," she tells him and leads him out of the car.

"Good luck," Niall tells her before she shuts the car door and lets him drive off. Harry suddenly grabs her face and plants a sloppy wet kiss on her lips. She doesn't even have time to react before he's running up to her door.

"We're going to have so much fun!" he yells, and she shushes him, grumbling about her having neighbors. He waits impatiently for her to open the door, and once it's open, he's running inside in search of her dog Pickle. Y/N shakes her head, wondering what she's gotten herself into especially when she sees Harry laying on the floor with Pickle licking at his face. She grimaces, setting her stuff down and taking off her shoes before she makes her way to Harry.

"Let's get up and go to bed," she tells him, but he shakes his head and pouts like a toddler.

"I don't want to go to bed! You're being boring," he spits, but there's no real spite behind it.

"Fine, you can stay out here by yourself then," she says, knowing it will make him get up and follow her. As she's walking off to her bedroom, she hears Harry get up and scurry off in search of her. She quickly shuts herself into her closet to change before he catches up to her. Once she's changed into a large t-shirt and just her panties, she opens her door. She's not prepared to see Harry in just his boxers sitting at the edge of her bed pouting. She pretends to not notice him as she makes her way to her bathroom and does her nightly skincare and brushes her teeth. He follows after her quickly and shadows her routine, washing his face and brushing his teeth while looking at her expectantly the entire time.

Drunk Harry was needy for her.

Once they're both finished, they crawl into her bed. The lamp isn't even off before Harry is laying on top of her, weeping into her neck.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "Don't ignore me!"

"Why should I talk to you? Being so mean to me. Where's my sweet boy?" she asks, willing herself to not put her hands anywhere on him to mess with him more.

"I'm here, I promise," he whines. "You're not boring- not boring at all. You're the best person, and I love you." Y/N feels like the blood from her body was being drained at his drunk confession. "Don't be mad at me. I'm sorry. Am I being annoying? Oh, I am. I'm so sorry," he continues to cry.

"Puppy, I'm not mad at you," she tells him with a giggle. She finally lets her hand card through his hair, her other hand going to rub at his back.

"Okay, good," he says and begins to kiss at her neck again.

"You're incredibly needy," she sighs and leans her head back to give him more access to her skin.

"Yeah? Fuck, I'm so needy for you," he tells her, and her eyes grow wide when she feels him start to subconsciously hump at her leg. She feels his dick start to harden in his boxers.

"Maybe we should stop, H," she warns him.

"Why?" he whines like the thought of stopping brings him physical pain. His hips thrust into her thigh with more determination.

"Because you're drunk," she tells him.

"So? I want you just as bad when I'm not. I'm just better at being chiller about it," his speech slurs. "Can I suck on your tits?" he asks, and she feels one of his hands snake under her shirt to feel the bare skin of her stomach.

"Um," she stutters.

"Please? It'll help me sleep," he claims. "You can even turn off the lamp if you don't want me to see," he tries to convince her even further.

"Okay," she relents. She reaches over to turn off the lamp, so they're welcomed into the darkness. Harry wastes no time before his legs move to straddle her thighs, and he's lifting her shirt to feel at her breasts. They both moan when he glides his fingers over her taut nipples. He squeezes at them in handfuls and moans at the sensation.

"Fuckin' perfect," he sighs. She feels him scoot down so that he's resting his body weight against her now, and his mouth wraps around one of her tits. She gasps at the feeling and tries to work out the horniness she feels because she genuinely does want them to sleep. He spends some time swapping at both her breasts, biting, sucking, and kissing at both of them before he rests his head on her and keeps one of her tits in his mouth to lull him to sleep. The feeling begins to feel relaxing for her, and she feels herself start to drift to sleep as Harry sucks on her breast. She falls asleep with her hand in his hair and her boob in his mouth.

When she wakes in the morning, she's surprised to be in an empty bed. She thought for sure that Harry would still be resting on her chest or in her bathroom heaving over the toilet, but instead she feels no weight on her chest, yet she smells bacon and pancakes through her nose. She does her business in the bathroom and makes her way to the kitchen when she finishes. What she walks into is a sight she would love to wake up to every morning. Harry is in nothing but his boxers as he flips pancakes and sears some bacon on her stove. She says nothing for a long moment, just observes him. She finally decides to make her presence known when he walks over to the sink to wash some of his dishes once he finishes cooking the last pancake and piece of bacon. She feels his body tense then quickly relax when her hands wrap around him from behind and rub at his tummy.

"Good morning," his rough voice greets her, his body tensing with delight when her hands run over his abs and lower belly.

"Morning handsome," she greets him as well and rests her cheek on his back sleepily as her hands continue to wander. "How are you feeling?" Referring to his intense night of drinking.

"Better than I deserve," he laughs in self-deprecation. She laughs as well. "Honestly don't feel bad at all," he tells her and once he finishes the dishes, he turns around in her hold to see her beautiful morning face. He brushes a few strands of hair out of her face. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, I barely drank anything," she shrugs.

"Um, how are your- your uh," he stutters, and she's confused until he looks down at her chest. She laughs lightly.

"Not sure. Haven't seen or felt them yet," she says honestly.

"Can I look?" he asks. She gawks. "I just want to make sure I didn't hurt you!" he explains honestly. She eyes him.

"Okay," she agrees nervously and begins lifting her shirt. She looks away as he looks at her.

"Oh, shit," he gasps.

"Are they ugly?" she whines and goes to bring her shirt back down, but his hand stops her.

"No- they're- they're fucking perfect, but I- I fucked them up a bit," he admits honestly. Her eyebrows furrow before she takes a look for herself. She gasps too when she sees the damage he did. They're littered beautifully with hickeys and a few bite marks. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he tells her, and she looks up to see his eyes watering. She shakes her head as if to tell him not to feel bad.

"Is it messed up that I kind of like it?" she admits.

"You do?" he asks.

"I really do," she says and bites her lip. She finally drops her shirt to cover her abdomen again. She felt awkward just having her tits out in the middle of her kitchen.

"I really like them too," he admits as well and wraps his arms around her waist, bring her closer to him and leaning his face close to hers. He kisses at the corner of her mouth, and she sighs in contentment.

"Do you remember anything from last night? Anything in particular that you might have said?" she asks.

"Are you asking about me telling you I love you?" he asks boldly.

"Possibly," she replies.

"Well, what's to ask about it?" he wonders.

"Well, is it true?" she asks quietly and looks away from his gaze out of nerves. She feels his fingers gently grip her chin to make her look at him before he leans down and presses his lips against hers. She sighs into the kiss and wraps her arms around his neck to press him against her harder. Both of his hands cup her throat, and his thumbs rest at her jaw to direct her in any way he likes. He parts once he feels he's running out of breath. He rests his forehead against her own, and she looks up at him with expectant eyes.

"I love everything about you," he admits.

"You also called me your wife," she says with a grin.

"You are my wife- just without all the legal papers and rings and whatnot," he explains, and she shakes her head with a laugh.

"Harry, I want to have sex with you," she admits breathlessly and watches as his eyes grow wide at her statement.

"Are you- Are you sure?" he asks.

"The surest," she tells him honestly.

"You want me to be your first?" he asks and presses a quick, light kiss to her lips.

"And my last," she adds and sees him swoon. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay. Okay- um. Well, let's eat first. We need- It's good to have energy," he stumbles his way through his sentence. She whines in complaint.

"No, we can do that after," she says and goes to pull at his briefs, but he snatches her hands and leans in close to her face. The dominance radiating off him makes her sink into herself.

"I'm not going to fuck you if you don't listen to me," he warns. Her eyes gloss over. "Be sweet for me and go set the food on the table. I'll get our drinks," he instructs, and she scurries off quickly to obey. She's standing awkwardly by her own table when he walks in, and he chuckles lightly. He sets the drinks down and slowly approaches her. He cups her cheeks, and she nuzzles into his touch. "You're not scared of me, right?" he asks, wanting to make sure her behavior isn't out of fear. She shakes her head quickly with furrowed brows.

"No, no," she assures. "Just... want to please you," she explains and turns her head to kiss the inside of his palm. He smiles at that and leans in to slowly kiss her.

"Good," he says against her lips. "Then be good for me and sit on my lap while we eat," he tells her and smiles when she blushes. He sits down first and guides her by her waist to sit down sideways on his lap. She wraps one arm around his shoulders, lightly scratching at his hair as he cuts her up some pancake. He feeds her a few pieces with one hand on keeps the other arm wrapped snug around her waist. He goes to give her another piece, but she shakes her head and takes the fork from his hand to feed him instead. It goes on like that until all of the bacon and pancakes are ate. There's a tension that settles in the room once the plates are cleared.

"Please," she whispers, and that's all Harry needs to hear before he's carrying her off to her bedroom. She giggles when he throws her on her bed and crawls after her, hovering over her excited body. She moans when he rests his body weight on her and kisses her like he's starved. His tongue finds its way into her mouth quickly, and the once innocent kiss becomes messy and sloppy. Harry's pulling away from her panting and with swollen lips. He moans at the sight of her- bare-faced and fucked out just from a little kissing.

"Can I take your shirt off?" he asks roughly.

"You can do anything you want," she answers seriously, making him laugh.

"Don't speak too soon," he tells her before shedding her of her shirt. He moans at her only clad in underwear, her breasts beautiful and littered with his markings. "Oh, baby," he whines and gently tweaks her nipples with his fingers. She gasps and arches her back away from the bed. "Are they sore?" he asks before leaning down to flick his tongue against her nipple.

"A bit, but that feels good," she tells him. She moans when he kisses down her body and to the edge of her underwear. He bites the waistband of her panties and pulls back only to let go of them and let them snap against her skin. She whines at his teasing and buries her hand in his hair to encourage him to do something. He grins at her impatience.

"Bratty little virgin," he remarks, and she tugs at his hair as a warning.

"Big annoying man-whore," she retorts back, and he laughs before lightly slapping her clothed mound. Her body jumps at the sensation, but he's quickly tugging her back into place. He presses his mouth against her clothed pussy and blows hot air against her. She squirms at the new sensation.

"You need to stay still," he tells her and places his hands against her thighs, spreading them in the way he likes. He spends more time licking at where he assumes her clit is by the sounds she makes. He flattens his tongue and licks over her panties, moaning when he begins to taste her wetness. "Can I take these off?" he asks, but his hands are already dipping into the waistband to take them off.

"Please," she tells him and lifts her hips to help him take them off. She feels a bit exposed now that she's naked. She nervously closes her legs, but he quickly snatches them open again.

"Don't do that," he warns her. His jaw drops when he sees her bare pussy, a moan tumbling from his lips. "I missed her," he groans, and she shakes her head in annoyance. "Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you," he tells her, and he's suddenly hovering over her face, her eyes wide. "I'm going to make you cum on my tongue- finger you a bit until you're stretched," he pauses to act like he's going to kiss her, only to pull back at the last second. "Then, I'm going to fuck your sweet little virgin pussy. That sound okay?" he asks, though it's not really a question. Y/N nods her head vigorously and throws her arms around his neck to kiss him. He moans against her mouth, but before she could slip her tongue into his mouth, he pulls away. "We can do more of that later. Let me taste you," he says, and she bites her lip as he pushes down her body.

"Harry, do something please," she whines and grips his hair in her fingers. He pries her thighs apart and begins with a long lick from her hole to her clit. She throws her head back and lets out a long moan, her fingers fisting in his hair hard enough to make him whine, so she immediately let's go and apologizes. "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

"No, baby," he tells her and places her hands back in his hair. "I like it, I promise, so pull all you want," he assures her and quickly gets back to eating at her. He essentially makes out with her pussy, not caring about how messy or wet anything was getting. He pushes her thighs apart farther and shoves his tongue as deep as he could push into her hole. Her moans and whines could barely be heard over his own. His tongue curls and tries its best to get all of her in his mouth. He's addicted to the way she tastes. He takes his thumbs, using them to spread open her hole wider, so he can really insert his tongue inside her and taste her better.

"Fuck, Harry," she moans. It's like nothing she's ever felt before. It's so much better than anytime she's gotten herself off. Harry himself is pure sex, and it's hard to not let her brain get all muddled around him. "I'm gonna cum," she warns and digs her fingers deeper into his scalp when he switches to flicking at her clit quickly and moving his head side to side. Her orgasm is strong and continuous, taking her a few moments to actually breathe her way to the end. She has to push his head away when the overstimulation begins. He crawls up her body and kisses her cheek.

"I'm gonna have to go down on you again some time tonight," he admits, and she laughs at his eagerness. "Do you feel good? Was that okay?" he asks.

"Yes, and yes," she answers.

"Let me know when you feel ready, and I want you to cum on my fingers at least once before I fuck you," he explains, and she blushes and is a bit taken aback by how he can just talk about this stuff so easily. He sees her blush and smiles. "Don't worry. You'll be as dirty as me soon." His hand moves to her throat, and he teases her lips with his. "Corrupt your innocent little pussy and have you begging for me all the time," he tells her and kisses the corner of her mouth. She shudders.

"You sound very sure of yourself," she tells him.

"And your pussy already loves me. Just let it happen, babe," he sighs, and she giggles.

"M'kay," she agrees in content. "I think I'm ready now." He smiles before he begins to move.

"I'm going to sit behind you, so it will feel a bit safer and more comfortable for you," he explains, and she could almost cry at how thoughtful he is. They maneuver around so that Harry's is against the headboard, and Y/N is leaning back against his chest. He starts by reaching around and grabbing her throat, turning her head so that he can kiss her. They make out for a bit until Harry gets too impatient. "I'm going to start with one finger. Let me know if anything doesn't feel right, okay?" He kisses her cheek for reassurance. "Why don't you rub at your pretty clit while I finger you," he encourages, and she nods. She starts to rub at her clit, and her body sinks further into Harry's. His hand wraps around her, and he brings it to her mouth. "Get it wet, baby," he instructs, and she doesn't waste another second before welcoming his finger into her mouth and getting it wet with her tongue. She sucks on it like it's a dick and swear she feels Harry's dick twitch in his boxers. He takes his finger out of her mouth and rests his chin on her shoulder, embracing her from behind to see what he's doing.

"Feels so nice already," she admits and leans her head back, so they're faces are pressed cheek to cheek. She kisses his cheek right as his finger begins to circle her entrance. She bites her swollen lip and rests her forehead against his temple. He slowly enters the finger, and her hips grind upwards to push it in deeper. "I can take it, H. I promise," she assures him.

"You're tight," he hisses, his own jaw dropping as he feels her warm gummy walls embrace his finger. "And so wet, fuck," he groans, and he can already feel her wetness dripping down his finger.

"Feels really good," she admits, her own fingers still working circles around her clit.

"Can I add a second?" he asks.

"Please," she begs and nods her head in encouragement. She moans when he feels his second finger prod at her hole. She's tight, but there's no resistance as the second finger slides into her.

"You're going to be my perfect cocksleeve," he tells her, his head turning so his mouth is pressed against her cheek, her jaw wide in pleasure. She's almost panting. "Pussy's gonna make me cum so fast and so fucking hard," he admits. "Are you on birth control?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes- yes," she nods her head, throwing it back when his fingers begin to curl inside her.

"Shit- you gonna let me fuck you raw?" he asks and punctuates his words by beginning to thrust his fingers inside her faster. Her pace on her clit quickens to his speed.

"Yes- Oh, fuck- that sounds so good. Wanna- I want to feel your cum in me. Want you to- oh- fill me up," she fights to speak as her orgasm approaches.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, meaning for it to sound condescending, but it comes out whiney. He's on the verge of cumming himself.

"I'm cumming," she warns, but he just keeps his fingers moving inside her. Her orgasm seems stronger but doesn't last as long. The overstimulation comes quicker. "Okay- Okay," she winces and pushes his hand away. He removes himself gently as to not give her any pain. He doesn't waste a second more before he's sucking all her orgasm from his fingers, his eyes rolling into his skull at the taste. Once he cleans himself off, he wraps his arms around her waist to hug her to his chest as she gets her breathing under control.

"You did so fucking well," he praises, and she smiles.

"Thank you," she tells him and kisses his cheek. He looks at her, and when their eyes meet, they both feel the intensity. Their lips meet instantaneously, and she begins to turn around to straddle his lap. One of her hands goes to the back of Harry's head while the other cups his cheek tenderly. His hands settle on her waist, being careful not to make her grind over him in case she's still feeling any overstimulation. When she begins to mess with the waistband of his underwear, he pulls back.

"If you- We don't have to do anything else if you don't-" He's cut off by her hand groping his clothed dick. Harry's back slightly arches off the bed, and he moans quietly at the surprised touch.

"Trust me, I want to," Y/N assures him with a grin. She helps him get his underwear off and then gets back on his lap. They're positioned so that Harry is sitting up at her height as well, making it more intimate than if Harry was just laying down below her.

"It's going to feel deeper this way," he warns.

"Good," she says with a sly smirk, and he shakes his head with a smile.

"You're amazing," he says randomly. She smiles softly before leaning forward to kiss him. It doesn't last long because she's eager to have him inside her.

"I don't- I don't know what I'm doing," she suddenly admits with a laugh, and he laughs as well.

"I'll do all the hard work," he tells her. "Rub at your clit. It will help relax you," he explains, and she listens obediently. She has to raise herself a little so that Harry's dick can be placed at her entrance. "I'm going to push in, but I'll go very slow," he assures her with a serious look. He was so scared to hurt her.

"Thank you, Harry," Y/N smiles and continues to rub her clit when she feels the head of his dick press into her hole. They both gasp at the sensation, and Harry's presses her down until only his tip is inside her.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yes," she moans and fucks herself on the tip, in the process she sinks down about another inch.

"A fuckin' natural," he tells her. He's a little bit over halfway when she presses at his stomach. His eyes dart to hers that are closed shut. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it out?" he asks in a panic. She laughs at his worriness.

"No, puppy," she tells him. "It's just a lot, and I've never felt anything like this before," she explains, and he nods his head in understanding. "Starting to feel really good, though," she admits and scratches at his abs. She sinks herself a little farther down.

Harry's trying to be on his best behavior, but his instincts are telling him to just grab her hips and start fucking up into her. It's the best pussy he's ever been inside of, and he knows she can feel him throbbing inside her. His balls are tight and round, stuffed with cum that belongs shoved inside her tummy. The thought almost sends him over the edge, picturing her belly and tits, that are still littered with his marking, round and swollen with him. His baby in her womb. The thought makes him whine.

"Are you okay?" she asks with a chuckle.

"Feels- feels too good," he whines and has to throw his head back when he feels her seated on his lap, having taken him all the way in. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, willing his orgasm away. He thinks all it would take at the moment is the sight of her innocent little body being corrupted, his fat cock shoved as far as it can be inside her pussy.

"It's deep," she comments, her voice almost as whiney as Harry's. Her eyes narrow at him and his distraught expression. He's still refusing to look at her. "Seriously, are you okay?" her voice suddenly worried.

"Yes. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I'm trying not to cum yet," he explains. "You feel- really, really lovely. The best pussy I've ever been in," he moans.

"It's okay if you want to cum, Harry. I've already cum so much, and this alone feels really good," she assures him, leaning forward to kiss his lips. He whines into her mouth.

"No, no- I think I'm okay for now," he sighs and finally looks at her. He feels as if he just brought himself back to square one. She looks so perfect sitting on top of his cock it almost makes him cry. She's rubbing at her clit and biting her lip with the cutest smirk on her face. "I won't last long," he admits.

"Me neither," she agrees and begins to move herself on him. Her hips grind against his pelvis, making his dick press into spots she didn't know existed. She stops rubbing her clit and instead presses her hands against his shoulders for extra help.

"Fuck- don't even need my help," he comments. "Already the perfect slut," he says through a moan. Her eyes narrow at him.

"I can f-feel your dick throbbing inside me. Who's the- the real slut?" she stutters, the feeling of him stretching her out making her brain foggy and incoherent. He whines at her assertive tone and feels his balls tighten. He sits up further so that he can hug her waist, pulling them close together. He uses his leverage on her to bounce her on him, and the new feeling makes her third orgasm approach quickly. The intimacy of the moment adds to the intensity of her approaching orgasm. They stare deeply into each other's eyes as they both begin to finish with each other.

It's like nothing Y/N's ever felt before when his balls start to leak his cum inside her. Her own orgasm hits her like a truck when Harry's seed starts to fill her womb. He looks so beautiful fucked out in front of her, his eyes welled with tears of pleasure much like her own.

"I love you," he moans and dips his head into her shoulder.

"I love you too," she moans back, wincing when she begins to feel the overstimulation, though Harry's still finishing inside her. "Damn, you had a lot in there," she laughs, and he blushes into her neck. His hips rut into her on their own accord until he finally begins to calm down.

Harry's face leaves its hiding spot in her shoulder, and he looks up at her like she's everything in the world to him. And she is.

She's his whole world.

+++++++++++++++++

im never fucking looking at this story again. took tooooooo long. hope you enjoy though 🤪

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harrystyles #one direction #harry styles angst #smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader

784 notes · View notes