#took a few drinks to edit this

[lukesaprince]

The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you. 

“Go on Tinder dates.” 

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything. 

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed. 

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away. 

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh. 

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea. 

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore. 

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more. 

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night. 

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards. 

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

//

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships. 

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased. 

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now. 

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question. 

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together. 

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least. 

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

//

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry. 

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking. 

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right? 

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome. 

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence. 

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so. 

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…” 

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life. 

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage. 

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you. 

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty. 

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did. 

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man. 

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on. 

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores. 

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual. 

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate. 

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn’t an innocent kiss that’s for sure. 

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth. 

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait. 

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke. 

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.” 

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway. 

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” 

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house. 

You could see yourself being very comfortable here. 

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date. 

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this. 

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating. 

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man. 

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day. 

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is. 

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you? 

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts. 

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to. 

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table. 

“They are.” You defended. 

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face. 

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else. 

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him. 

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?” 

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon. 

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?” 

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you. 

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones. 

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic. 

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up. 

“What?” You chuckled. 

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.” 

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently. 

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy. 

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe. 

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck. 

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now. 

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap. 

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.  

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again. 

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands. 

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table. 

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too. 

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans. 

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could. 

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so. 

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face. 

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done. 

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out. 

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it.  “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth. 

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you. 

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.” 

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could. 

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body. 

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it. 

“That can be arranged.” 

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless. 

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear. 

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out. 

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him. 

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit. 

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire. 

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.” 

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth. 

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.” 

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more. 

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous. 

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received. 

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth. 

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling. 

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him. 

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours. 

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband. 

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.” 

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you. 

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table. 

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him. 

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately. 

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you. 

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist. 

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy. 

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene. 

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling? 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again. 

Starting with tonight. 

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch. 

“Yeah” 

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek. 

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air. 

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again. 

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved. 

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.” 

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close. 

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way. 

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny. 

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh. 

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick. 

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him. 

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you. 

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him. 

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious. 

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down. 

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards. 

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms. 

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.” 

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom. 

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind. 

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue. 

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself. 

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue. 

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down. 

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat. 

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.” 

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. 

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now. 

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?” 

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle. 

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.” 

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue. 

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.” 

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum. 

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you. 

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it. 

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever. 

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion. 

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more. 

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over. 

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going. 

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.” 

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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[gghostwriter]

Wanted: A Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

“I’m serious!” You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelope’s sofa. “It was the worst date I’ve ever been on!”

All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girl’s night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed them—JJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself. 

Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.

“It can’t be that bad—” JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. “Can it?”

Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.

“We had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himself—”

Emily nodded along. “Typical macho male behavior.”

“—that wasn’t even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!”

Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.

“I’m all for being healthy but really? On a first date?” You crossed your arms to your chest. “At this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.”

Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. “Oh no no, sweetheart. You’re too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!”

“Yeah, we’re profilers. Trust us to pick for you,” Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garcia’s shoulder.

Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. “I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.”

———

It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth. 

“He looks cute—” Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. “Never mind, look at that horrible grammar.”

JJ leaned in and read the poor man’s bio. “Theirs a million reasons why I’m your future boyfriend—Jesus, it’s really hard out there, huh?”

“I’d take any man who’s nice and breathes,” you laugh in despair. 

Emily’s eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. “You know, we could just set you up with Reid.”

“Reid?” you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its very…unique. “You have a co-worker named Reid? As in that’s his first name?”

“No, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,” JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.

Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. “You’re so right! Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Right,” Emily turned to face the other two. “They’d be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJ—” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “—can you talk to Reid about it?”

She shrugged. “I could but you know how stubborn he is.”

“I’ll blackmail him if I have to,” Penelope interjected. “Boy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. They’ll be perfect for each other, he just doesn’t know it.”

Your eyes volleyed in between the three. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

Emily tsk’ed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. “I’ll cash in on that prize I won last time.”

“No,” you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes,” her smile growing wider and wider with each denial. 

Your shoulders slumped forward. “Fine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head. He will be,” Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. “Cheers!”

———

It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid reader—like yourself. 

You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasn’t the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, he’d find you interesting, she urged.

But there was one information you weren’t privy to, how he looks like. The girls didn’t want to show any photos, stating it’s best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst. 

You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasn’t late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late. 

Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps. 

“Are you—” the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. “Y/N? Penelope’s friend?”

Oh damn. He was beautiful.

“Yes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” You squeaked. 

He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. “Hi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.”

“Should we go inside?” You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.

He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. “Your shoelace is undone. Did you know that there’s more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?”

“We wouldn’t want to contribute to that, do we?” You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.

He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” 

Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[almadelsur]

💋 The Turmoil One Suffers

summary: In the second installment of The Secrets One Keeps, a relaxing day on the pogue proves to be anything but, with your inner struggles getting the better of you and JJ hot on your tail.

jj maybank x reader, rafe cameron x reader

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, talks of suffocation ig? plz let me know if I've missed anything.

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering I first wrote this like 3 years ago. Also, for those asking, I won't be doing a taglist for this fic bc I'm lazy and technologically deficient.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

You shouldn’t have been smoking, it made you feel uneasy, paranoid even.

You had found yourself on the pogue in the wake of Pope’s incessant bitching about how you had to make up for ditching them last night. The guilt had made you cave in. As he spoke, all that had flashed through your head was images of Rafe. You on top of Rafe, Rafe with his hands around your neck, the way Rafe’s hair felt between your fingers as you gripped on it when he got messy between your-

“Dude” Sarah’s voice snapped you out of your recurring thoughts.

You turned your head to her as you took a drag of the blunt JJ had rolled, "hmm?"

“I asked if you wanted a beer?”

You checked the time on your phone, 12pm. After enduring 3 hours on this floating nightmare, you decide you're probably deserving of one.

“uh yeah sure.” You took another hit, extending your arm to grab the cold bottle.

You bought the edge of the glass bottle up to your lips and took a swig, letting the liquid wash over your cotton mouth. A swig swiftly turning into a gulp as thirst suddenly became itself known to you. One gulp then turned to two and before you knew it the bottle dried out.

JJ eyed your every move, the feeling that had been bugging him since you got into the Twinkie that morning had now grown into full-blown concern. Your unusual behaviour was deafening with the sounds of alarm bells.

“Thirsty?” He spoke with furrowed brows, prompting Pope to chuckle though no joke had been intended.

Your eyes flickered towards JJ momentarily and instantly you knew what he was  thinking. Anger disguised as adrenaline coursed through you.

“Sarah will you pass me another? Mines empty.” Defiance clear in your tone, causing a thick tension to settle over the boat.

“'s a bit it early to start chugging drinks isn’t it?” JJ speaks up again before Sarah has time to respond.

You scoffed as you turned to him once more, maintaining eye contact as you took a long drag from blunt. As you exhaled the smoke, the thick white cloud blurred his features.

“Sarah” you tried again.

You hear a small sigh as she hands you another bottle.

“Thank you” You took another swig at the bottle, hoping the liquid would force down the concoction of guilt and anger that swirled in your mouth.

“So like am I saying words out loud or is it just in my head?” JJ tried, at this point he just wanted a reaction out of you.

“You asked me to come here.” Your tone was snippy, as another burst of smoke entered your system.

“well my mistake clearly.” He was getting pissed off now, and you couldn’t deny the sick satisfaction it gave you. You knew it was unfair, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you just couldn’t help it.

Pope cleared his throat. “This is a whole lotta tension for such a little boat.” He tried to lighten the mood but his joke fell flat.

As you downed your second beer, you took another drag. “It is isn’t it?” You turned to him.

“Maybe you should have some of this JJ, it’ll help you relax.” You threw the blunt in his direction, letting it fall at his feet.

“What the hell crawled up your ass today?” JJ spat at you, picking up the blunt.

The mixture of alcohol and weed infected your system, your breathing became staggered as you suddenly became hyper aware of the layers clinging onto your body.

You don't answer. Instead choosing to stand up and remove your T-shirt. Rafe returned to your mind as you focused on the image of him mimicking your same actions. Your trousers were next to go. You pushed them down whilst picturing Rafe’s hands running down your legs.

Pope eyed Sarah and JJ who’s gaze were trained on you and your movements.

“Whatcha doing there bud?” Sarah asked watching you strip down to your underwear.

“I’m too hot” was all you said, stepping off the edge of the boat and letting yourself plunge into the cool water below you.

As you became completely submerged, you breathed out all of the air in your irritated lungs. Leaving you empty and heavy as you continued to sink. The muffled noises of the water hit against your head yet all you could hear was your thoughts racing. 

As the need for air increased, the rush of thought slowed. You liked it. The weightlessness of your body, mixed with the numbing of all of your senses was peacefull. A welcome change from the overdrive your body had been running on for the past year. 

You forced yourself to stay down there, pushing your physical boundaries. A split second before completely losing consiousness you emerged again, letting the air penetrate through your system and invade your insides as it worked to reboot your muscles before giving life again to the internal mayhem in your mind again. 

You floated with your head above the surface and your back facing the pogues. You couldn’t find yourself to act remotely interested in what they thought about your little show. 

JJ in turn felt as though he was slowly loosing his head. He felt dumbfounded because it wasn’t just your behaviour that was different, your entire demeanour and vibe was off and he failed to comprehend what could have happened in the span of 12 hours for you to return to him a complete different person. 

Sarah could see the way he looked at you, he was hot on your tail and she panicked trying to divert his calculating eyes from you. “So” she spoke up loud enough so that you could hear and be part of the conversation should you wish to. “Theres a party at my house tonight.”

“Oh really?” JJ answered, evidently uninterested as he continued his stare down with the back of your head. 

“Yeah Ward’s out of town with Rose and y'know Rafe, any opportunity he has to get shitfaced he’ll take it.” Relief washed over her as JJ’s eyes finally unglued from you. 

At the mention of Rafe your ears perked up. 

“Do you guys wanna come?” A devilish grin on her face evident as she spoke. 

“A kook party? We wouldn't be welcome.” Pope answered for the three of you, prompting a scoff from Sarah. 

“It’s my house too, plus I already threatened Rafe to let me invite you guys. I told him I’d snitch on him otherwise.” She shrugged.

“I’m sure he loved that” JJ added, amused at the thought of antagonising the Cameron boy. 

“Well what did he say?” Three pairs of eyes turned to you as you finally spoke up from the water, now facing the boat again. 

JJ couldnt help the face that your question caused him to pull. Why did you suddenly care about what Rafe Cameron had to say? Sarah already said they could go so why did it even matter? 

“He said whatever as long we stay away from him.” Her answer caused Pope and JJ to roll their eyes. It had been somewhat of a lie though. 

Because what Rafe had really said when Sarah had threatened him was, “whatever just stay away from us, and why don't you go ahead and bring that sexy little friend of yours.” 

To which Sarah had replied with, “We wouldn’t want to hang out with you and your classist friends anyway. Also, Kiara’s with JJ, and Y/N wouldn’t even touch you with a 10 foot pole so.” Unkowing of the situation between you and Rafe.

Looking back at it now, Rafe’s coy response of “we’ll see” suddenly made much more sense to her as she shuddered slightly in disgust. 

“Can’t we take a night off? I mean don’t you guys think we’ve been going a little extra hard recently?” Pope tried to reason as you swam back up towards the boat, forcing yourself on board again. 

“I’ll be there.” You interjected as the water ran down your body, soaking the deck of the hms. 

“we all will be.” JJ fired back, a confusing swirl of concern and anger towards your attitude fought for dominance within his head. 

You ignored him once more and lay back on the sodden deck, letting your persistant introspection rest as the blanket that was intoxication comforted you. You looked up at the clouds and the weighlessness returned. Before you knew it, he sounds of Pope and Sarah chatting drifted away with the soft waves that carried the boat. You lost grip on consciousness as the sun lulled you to sleep.

Around half an hour went by before JJ spoke up. “hey" he double checked you were definitely asleep.

He took your silence as confirmation before turning to the other two. “Y'all saw that right?”

“Saw what?” Sarah played dumb even though he she knew exactly what he was referring to.

“the way she was acting” He whisper shouted, confused as to why no one else seemed remotely worried. “It was like she hated us.” He spoke with the tone of a wounded man.

“Yeah… us.” Pope muttered under his breath.

“I think she’s just tired J, she uh- she had a long night.” Sarah stiffled what had been something between a laugh and a groan.

“Nah guys look- I know her, that wasn’t normal.” JJ didn’t ease up.

“We all know her.” Pope jumped on the defensive.

“c’mon dude it’s not just me, somethings obviously wrong”

At this point Sarah wished for anything to distract him, because as much as JJ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to academic performance, he most certainly wasn’t dumb. And he definitely knew what he was talking about when it came to you.

“Maybe It’s.. you know..” Pope waggled his eyebrows. “Her time…” he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck “of- of the month?”

“Nice Pope.” Sarah rolled her eyes.

“’s not that. Guys look listen to me somethings definitely wr-“ the ringing of his phone interrupted JJ mid sentence. Saved by the bell. Literally.

JJ grabbed his phone and his frown eased up slightly as he looked at the caller ID.

“Hey baby” his tone made it seem like whatever he had been worrying about softened it’s grip on him at the sound of her voice. “Uh huh, okay give us ten and we’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Kie?” Sarah asked, praying he wouldn’t resume his ramble.

“Yeah she’s finished up at the wreck, wants us to go get her.” And with that the subject was dropped.

—————————————————————————

The late afternoon breeze stroked you awake as you suddenly became aware of the voices around you.

Your eyes fluttered open and you stirred where you lay, your body stiff from the 4 hour positioning against the hard wood of the hms. You slowly sat yourself up and threw your T-shirt back on your body before turning back to glance at the now complete group of pogues. Fuck how long had you been out for.

You let your eyes linger on Kiara and JJ a couple of seconds longer than everybody else. He laughed carelessly pulling her tighter against his side. You groaned out quietly and reached for your phone, typing out that damned name.

To Rafe: Having a party and you didn’t invite me? I’m almost offended.

Almost instantly a reply came through.

Miss me already?

You rolled your eyes as he sent you another.

Figured Sarah would open her big mouth, better see you tonight ;)

“Morning Camper.” John B spoke up. You turned around to face him, every single one of them with their attention on you.

“Hey can you take me home?” You directed at no one in particular.

“You don’t wanna stay and hang out?” Kie asked, she wanted to reach you, connect with you.

“I just want to go home” You were irritated and your head hurt, you were certainly in no mood for any of this.

John B was next to try “C’mon man we haven’t all hung out like this in ag-“

“Fuck just take me home” You lashed out. “please” You added in an attempt to soften the blow.

Silence fell over the pogues as John B lifted himself up and steered the boat towards the direction of your house.

As you hopped down you muttered a joyless goodbye to everyone.

“Wait! I’ll walk you in.” JJ peeled himself away from Kiara and followed behind you, slightly speeding as you hadn’t bothered to stop and wait.

He walked beside you, waiting until you were both out of hearing distance from the others.

“why are you angry?” He spoke up.

“I’m not angry.” You tried to walk faster but a calloused hand stopped you.

“Stop. Just stop.” You heard the desperation in his voice as he turned you around to face him. “can you just talk to me? Look whatever I did to piss you off I’m sorry. You just- you were fine yesterday and now all of a sudden you hate us-“

“Stop JJ” You just wanted it to stop. The consequence of your actions pounding down on you with every word that left his mouth.

“Stop what?!” He couldn’t help but shake you.

“Talking! Stop talking!” You shoved him forcefully off of you.

“The hell's wrong with you?! dude I’m worried about you. Today’s just been so weird.” His fingers shoved themselves through his hair, a nervous habit of his.

The familiar lump in your throat began to form at the sight of your best friend.

“I’m tired J.” It wasn’t a lie, you really were fucking exhausted. You were tired of lying, tired of watching the boy you loved love someone else, tired of trudging through your life heartbroken.

“You’re lying.” He shook his head like a disappointed parent. “Why you lyin' to me?”

“JJ. I’m. Tired.” You screwed your eyes shut as your breathing began to quicken “I’m not lying I’m just-“

“Okay alright.”  His embrace cut you off. “I believe you.” He hated seeing you upset. Having known you practically his whole life, he also knew that nothing ever got resolved when you got like this, so he dropped the subject.

You almost broke down then and there, using everything you had in you to move your arms around him, hugging him back.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, the meaning behind your words far greater than he could realise.

“Hey it’s okay, we all have off days right?” He let go of you and gave you a small smile.

“Right.” Your remained court and quiet. 

“I’ll see you tonight. Go rest for a bit okay?”

You nodded and began to walk away before his voice stopped you once more.

“Yo” You turned to see that he had shoved his hands in pockets. “You’d tell me if something was wrong right?” He hated that he even had to ask.

“Mhm, course” You lied straight through your teeth before turning and walking away from him uninterrupted. You knew that as soon and as your bedroom door closed behind you, you’d sink down into a pit of despair and loathing.

Whilst the resolution had given him a little comfort, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t the end of it.

Perhaps he should have left things alone, maybe then things wouldn’t have escalated to extent that they were about to.

So as he watched you walk away, JJ stood there unknowing of what was to come. Unknowing of the way things were about to change between you forever.

[crystallinestars]

Just Confess Already! Part 2

Drabbles about Genshin men (or you) confessing with the help of a wingman. This is pure fluff.

Characters: Kazuha, Kinich, Ororon, Wanderer, and Cyno.

Part 1 here.

I apologize if the endings sound abrupt, I've edited and rewritten this many times, and at this point I just want to get this finally posted. I also apologize for the length, my writing style has changed since part 1.

🍁 Kazuha

Everyone and their mother at The Crux could tell you and Kazuha had a thing for each other. The way you guys spent most of your free time in each other’s company discussing poetry or music, the way Kazuha always volunteered to help you with your tasks, how you took care of Kazuha when he got drunk, and just the overall subtle romantic tension about your pair tipped off pretty much everyone.

Though Beidou didn’t want to pry into the love lives of her crew, she’d sometimes catch glimpses of you and Kazuha chatting up in the crow’s nest of the ship and noted that the way you smiled at each other was endearing. Otherwise, she paid little attention to it, thinking it was only a matter of time until one of you confessed and you guys became an official couple.

However, that time never came. The two of you pussyfooted around the topic of laying bare your feelings, and everyone at The Crux was getting a little annoyed that you were stuck in the pining phase. There was a limit to how long Beidou could tolerate watching you give each other pining glances without snapping and telling you two to get together already.

One time when you were out on an errand, Beidou and her crew invited Kazuha for a drink. The friendly and cheerful atmosphere prompted some members to share their life stories, and the topic breached romance. Someone asked Kazuha why he hadn’t confessed to you yet, and the drunken ronin answered that he treasured your friendship and didn’t want to jeopardize it in case you didn’t feel the same way.

Beidou could only scoff at his excuse. It was so obvious that you liked him back, and since when was Kazuha such a coward? He could go up against the Raiden Shogun’s deadly Musou no Hitotachi, but had his tail between his legs at the prospect of admitting he loved you to your face? Preposterous! Moreover, she had to tell her crew to settle down because they were creating a spectacle out of your crushes on each other and making bets on which one of you would confess first (she betted on you).

If Kazuha was too much of a coward, Beidou thought, then maybe you’d be braver.

That same evening, she happened to find you alone in your cabin and took the opportunity to bring up the issue of your longtime crush on Kazuha. Though she was no expert on romance, Beidou wanted to help you. She got you to open up and confide in her, patiently listening while you expressed your fears about confessing to Kazuha. You also didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him, so Beidou stated outright that he returned your feelings. If you didn’t believe her, then see for yourself.

With that, she pried open a window in the cabin. Over the gentle lapping of the waves, you heard the crew’s laughter up on the deck, and the faint sound of Kazuha’s familiar voice. It was a little difficult to hear what he was saying over the crew’s chatter, and his speech was slightly slurred, but you made out a few words. He frequently spoke your name while reciting a few clumsy haikus. But they weren’t just any random poems about the sea or sky—they were love haikus.

Beidou patted your shoulder and told you to have courage instead of wasting your life wondering about what-ifs and regretting not doing anything.

Over the following days, Beidou sent you and Kazuha out on joint errands in Liyue Harbour. The errands themselves weren’t all that important, but they served as good excuses to give you two some alone time. Kazuha was no fool and quickly deduced that Beidou was setting you two up on purpose, but he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to spend more time with you.

Beidou hoped something would finally change by the time you returned, and sure enough, when she spotted you and Kazuha walking back to the ship, she smiled. The two of you were holding hands and smiling warmly at each other, a good sign that your once-suppressed feelings were now in the open. Naturally, the rest of the crew noticed the change as well and grew excited when you confirmed that you and Kazuha were now in a romantic relationship.

That night, they brought out the good wine and food to congratulate you and Kazuha on finally getting together. Most of the Crux’s crew joined on the festivities, with some members being nosy and asking you for details on how it happened and who confessed first.

When you admitted to confessing first, Beidou smugly accepted her winnings and took a big swig of her drink before yelling out a cheer. Her crew followed suit in toasting and cheering much to your and Kazuha’s embarrassment, but it was all in good fun. Beidou made sure to make it up to you by distracting the crew with a drinking game and sending you a wink as she allowed you and Kazuha to make a quiet escape from the party. The Crux gang would have plenty of time to tease you in the future—for now, you and Kazuha deserved to enjoy this newfound relationship without others poking their noses where they don’t belong. Beidou would make sure of it.

🟩 Kinich

Kinich’s relationship with you perplexed K’uhul Ajaw. The Almighty Dragonlord couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but something between you two changed. Recently, Kinich had been giving you discounts whenever you asked for his help, and sometimes even did things for you for free. Kinich the Malipo giving someone special treatment? Unheard of! And on top of all that, his servant had been visiting you more frequently during downtime, and there was also that strange glint in Kinich’s eyes whenever he looked at you, something akin to endearment—

Oh.

Kinich liked you.

Oh, this was going to be good!

Ajaw’s diabolical nature wouldn’t let him keep Kinich’s feelings for you a secret. The next time you came to hang out with their duo, the saurian waved his little stubby arms and ran his mouth as soon as you were within earshot. “Hey, human! Our lowly servant has developed romantic feelings for you like some sort of prepubescent schoolboy! Isn’t that a riot?” and cackled, thinking Kinich would be thoroughly humiliated and put in his place.

To Ajaw’s dismay, instead of looking disgusted by the news, you appeared… hopeful? A tad surprised by his outburst, but was that hope shining in your eyes? To Ajaw’s even greater dismay, Kinich lacked any sort of outward reaction to having his crush on you vocalized so brazenly. Instead, the saurian hunter told you to ignore Ajaw’s nonsensical words in his usual calm manner, before smacking the pixelated menace away for a timeout. Right before he got locked away, Ajaw managed to catch a glimpse of disappointment in your eyes when Kinich brushed the situation aside as if it were nothing.

That day, K’uhul Ajaw realized that Kinich’s feelings were not one-sided like he originally thought. You liked Kinich too. The mere thought of you two acting all lovey-dovey with each other was sickening, but the saurian figured poking fun at you and Kinich would be a good source of entertainment.

After that day, Ajaw became even more insufferable. Every chance he got, he’d swoop in with a taunting remark and make fun either you, Kinich, or both.

One time while accompanying Kinich through a dense forest, you slipped on a wet tree root and were sent falling towards the ground. However, Kinich swiftly caught you and pulled you to his chest to help stabilize you. Ajaw had a field day laughing and crowing about how scandalous you were for practically throwing yourself at Kinich like that. Were you that desperate to be in his arms? Disgusting!

The saurian also used every opportunity he could find to reveal all of Kinich’s secrets to you. Did you know Kinich gave you special treatment? No? Are you blind?! Can’t you tell he does stuff for you for free? Why do you think he brings you game and wild berries free of charge every once in a while--to show off how good he is at hunting?! Have you at least noticed Kinich smiled more and acted softer towards you, or are you really that blind? He doesn’t treat anyone else that way, you know! …And so on and so forth, though most of his attempts to out Kinich are interrupted by the man himself locking Ajaw away before the dragon reveals too much.

As fun as it was to watch your pair’s awkward attempts at showing signs of affection for each other, Ajaw eventually grew frustrated with standing witness to the mutual pining that never progressed anywhere. It made the little saurian’s blood boil with annoyance.

Whenever he and Kinich were alone, Ajaw would complain that the hunter should stop being a dimwit and a coward and just confess to you already! How could he not see that you obviously liked him back?! Seriously, how bad was his luck to end up with such an imbecile for a servant?!

Kinich coolly rejected Ajaw’s insistence for confessing his feelings. It was not in his nature to recklessly rush into the unknown—he needed to carefully analyze and weigh his options before coming to a sound decision. As such, his relationship with you was not to be rushed. This didn’t sit well with Ajaw, but no matter what he said, Kinich stubbornly refused to listen.

The Dragonlord’s patience reached a breaking point during one fateful day. It was getting dark, and Kinich had offered to escort you home. Once you were safely at your doorstep, you made the bold move of kissing Kinich’s cheek in thanks. For a split moment, Ajaw swore there was palpable romantic tension between you as your and Kinich’s eyes met (gross). Kinich glanced at your lips, looking as if he wanted to lean in and kiss you (doubly gross) and Ajaw prepared himself to make disgusted gagging noises, except… nothing happened. With a seldom seen blush on his cheeks, Kinich awkwardly cleared his throat and bid you goodnight, preparing to leave.

Ajaw exploded.

“This is painful to watch! You two were clearly made for each other—both equally cowardly and blind to each other’s feelings! Just admit you like each other already; you’re not fooling anyone! Kinich, you cowardly, brainless, insufferable insect—just lean in for that kiss, you obviously want to! And you! Stop waffling and just spit out that you like Kinich already! Agh, watching you two is torture! What did the great K’uhul Ajaw do to deserve this fate?!” he yelled, turning red in the face.

Kinich promptly locked Ajaw away, for which the saurian would later chew him out once he was free, but not before interrogating you and the hunter about whether you finally confessed. Once Kinich revealed that yes, you had talked it out and admitted your mutual feelings for each other and were now in a relationship, Ajaw could finally feel some sense of peace regarding the situation.

Feeling proud of his contributions, Ajaw puffed out his chest and told you and Kinich to pucker up and kiss his feet in worship, for only with the help of the Almighty Dragonlord K’uhul Ajaw has your relationship progressed instead of stagnating like swamp water.

Though the saurian relic continued to be an annoyance, even Kinich had to admit that Ajaw played a part in getting you together. Though not in the form of worship or foot kissing, Kinich did repay the favor by procuring some quenepa berries and other fruits that Ajaw liked, hosting a small feast as a thank you. Though Ajaw complained about being scammed, the snacks did the trick of improving his mood and keeping him occupied while you and Kinich had some precious time to yourselves.

🦇 Ororon

Ever since you and Ororon were children, Citlali observed that the two of you got along well. So well, in fact, that Ororon had developed a little crush on you. He would pluck flowers from a nearby meadow to give you, follow you around like a loyal puppy, and one time, Ororon told Citlali that he hoped to marry you one day.

Citlali couldn’t help but find Ororon’s crush on you adorable, and a part of her anticipated the day when you both grew up and got married. She had no doubt you would make the sweetest couple among the Masters of the Night-Wind.

Ororon’s attraction to you persisted into adulthood. At that point, Citlali could no longer call it a cute little crush— “Love” was a more apt description for how Ororon felt towards you, even if he tried to hide the depth of his attachment to you. He was content to stay as just your friend and not risk ruining the close bond you had in case you didn’t return his feelings. Citlali was a little frustrated that Ororon continued to pine for you without doing anything about it, but she knew better than to force the stubborn boy to do something he didn’t want to. If you were both happy with the way things were, then why change them?

However, during one of her rare trips to the market for some divination supplies, Citlali overheard a conversation between two tribespeople. The topic of conversation was about love, and one of the men bashfully admitted that he thought you were pretty and that he hoped to ask you out on a date soon. This news washed over Citlali like a bucket of cold water as worry seized her heart.

This wasn’t the first time others had expressed romantic interest in you. After all, you’ve always had a bit of a reputation among the Masters of the Night-Wind for being attractive, so it wasn’t surprising others had an eye on you. However, now that you were an independent adult, it wouldn’t be strange for you to look for a partner to settle down with, right? Knowing Ororon, the dimwit wouldn’t ever think to confess, and what if someone else confessed before he did and stole your heart?

Citlali didn’t want to force you to choose Ororon, but she didn’t want things to end without her beloved grandson at least taking a shot at winning you over. The last thing she wanted was for Ororon to be left heartbroken and disappointed all because he let the chance to be with you slip from his fingers.

With these troubled thoughts, Citlali sought out Ororon and announced that he needed to stop dawdling and actively pursue you unless he wanted to watch your heart get stolen by somebody else. Citlali’s sudden proclamation confused Ororon, so she explained that he’s not the only one who is in love with you and that there’s a risk of you choosing someone else to spend your life with.

As she expected, Ororon stubbornly refused to go along with her urging, saying that who you wanted to end up with was your choice and he would respect it. Though he said that, Citlali could see it on Ororon’s face that the mere thought of you falling for someone else hurt him, and she couldn’t help but feel bad for her grandson.

After much convincing and reassurance, Citlali got Ororon to agree to court you and promised to come up with a plan to help him in this endeavour. There was, however, one major problem: how were two socially awkward outcasts supposed to win someone’s heart? Having never been courted herself, Citlali had no past experiences to draw from when designing her plan, but it shouldn’t be too hard, right? She’d read a lot of romance novels imported from Inazuma, so maybe if she got Ororon to do some of the same things the male leads did, then it would curry your favour? Regardless, it was worth a shot.

The plan was for Ororon to prove his worth as a suitable partner by giving you gifts, compliments, and always being there for you no matter what it was. In Ororon’s opinion, he was already doing all of these things for you as a friend, but Citlali insisted that his actions needed to be infused with romance to distinguish them from gestures of friendship. Her grandson was still reluctant to actively court you, but he had promised to try and try he did. Except, his approach subverted Citlali’s expectations.

When it came to giving gifts, instead of presenting jewellery, woven scrolls, or useful gadgets, the young man gifted you game he had caught in the wild and the best selection of produce from his garden. Citlali could only facepalm when Ororon told her which gifts he planned to give you, but she also knew he put genuine thought into them. Ororon handpicked the nicest veggies he could find in his garden and personally delivered them to your doorstep instead of sending Ifa like he normally would. Citlali told him that giving gifts in person held more meaning, and Ororon appeared to have taken her words to heart.

Ororon also gifted you flowers much like he did when you were little. However, this time he didn’t give you flowers plucked from the wild. Instead, he gifted you potted plants that he had also grown in his garden. “They will live and look pretty for longer,” he told you, then received a flick to the forehead once Citlali found out what he did.

His compliments were no better. Saying things like his vegetables grew better whenever you visited his home and spoke to his plants or your presence being calming for the aphids, was the best Ororon could do. Citlali admonished him for these strange compliments, but to Ororon, that was the highest praise anyone could receive. After all, you were an amazing person, and even his plants and aphids sensed it.

Ororon’s courtship was unconventional to say the least, and granny Itztli worried whether her grandson made a favorable impression on you. To help improve Ororon’s image in your eyes, Citlali sought you out more often to put in a good word for her grandson and get you to see him as a man. She highlighted Ororon’s good points to you, commenting how Ororon is a bit peculiar, but he’s also kind, resourceful, accepting, gentle, and so much more. A truly good kid. He would make an excellent romantic partner, wouldn’t you agree?

Her pushiness flustered you, but it also allowed Citlali to gauge how you felt about Ororon, and she had to contain her excitement when she pieced together that you loved him back. In her giddiness, she urged Ororon to confess.

When the day of the confession came, Citlali hid among some trees while keeping an eye on you and Ororon. She didn’t intent to spy, but the anxiety over how the confession would go made her antsy and she couldn’t sit still at home. She watched as Ororon offered you a basket of his finest produce and finally professed his love. The confession came out awkward because he tried to recite what he practiced with Citlali a few days prior, and he seemed to realize this because Ororon then took your hand and placed it against his chest. Using his own words this time, Ororon explained that he genuinely did love you, and the racing of his heart should be proof enough that you were more than just a friend in his eyes. However, it was alright if you didn’t feel the same way about him.

Citlali had to clamp her hands over her mouth to hold back from squealing in giddiness as she watched you reciprocate Ororon’s feelings. She would later apologize for spying since she knew it was wrong, but it filled her with joy to witness the blossoming of love between you. In some ways, this was better than any romance novel she had read in all her years of living, and it warmed her heart to see you both so happy.

Even if it was a childhood fantasy, perhaps Ororon’s wish of marrying you was not that far off now? Citlali certainly hoped so.

☂️ Wanderer

Nahida was no expert on romance, but she had observed enough couples during her 500-year-long imprisonment to know what romantic attraction looked like. The strange air surrounding you and Wanderer must have been that, she speculated, as she watched Wanderer hand you a box of your favorite foods with the flimsy excuse of having made too much. For your part, you seemed genuinely touched by the gesture despite Wanderer’s grumbling, much to Nahida’s delight. Wanderer’s prickly personality pushed some people away, but not you. You stayed by his side and gave him the companionship he needed, helping Wanderer open up and heal from his trauma.

It was clear you deeply cared for the young man, and a little peek into your mind confirmed to Nahida that yes, you did love him romantically. She couldn’t read Wanderer’s mind since he blocked all her attempts to do so, but she didn’t need mindreading to conclude that he loved you too.

When she next spoke with Wanderer, she carefully asked if he loved you. Wanderer’s response was a gruff “No” and “Stop asking”, however Nahida could tell he wasn’t being honest with his feelings. If he didn’t love you, then why did he treat you differently compared to everyone else? His manner of speech is gentler when with you, and despite all his grumbling he still complies with all your requests no matter how irritating he may find them. Not to mention, he spends most of his free time in your company, goes out of his way to make you little gifts and cook your favorite dishes. Surely all these behaviours were proof that you were someone special to him?

Being effectively cornered, the puppet had no choice except to come clean about his hidden feelings. With scowl and a blush on his cheeks, Wanderer reluctantly admitted that yes, he likes you, but it was none of Nahida’s business and she’d better stay out of it.

Despite Wanderer’s warning, the Dendro Archon wanted to help get you together. She felt confident that if both of you put in a little effort, a beautiful romance could blossom between you. Still, she didn’t want to outright reveal your feelings for each other. She believed that each of you should relay these intimate feelings yourselves. All Nahida would do is give you a gentle nudge in the right direction.

To help her with this task, Nahida sought help from a few Aranara and asked them to keep an eye on you and Wanderer and report any meaningful details that could help her bring you together. Through her little helpers, Nahida learned the full extent of Wanderer’s affections for you, and she couldn’t help but smile at how sweet he was, especially when it came to you.

Using this acquired knowledge, the Dendro Archon frequently brought up Wanderer in your conversations with her to explain the thoughtfulness behind some of his gifts and words. For as frank as he usually was with people, Wanderer was more close-lipped about the true extent of his feelings, so Nahida had some work cut out for her in making you realize how much he truly cared about you.

For example, the next time Wanderer gave you your favorite food with the excuse that he’d made too much, Nahida revealed to you that he actually spent several days perfecting the recipe before finally giving the dish to you.

That hand-made bracelet he gifted you, saying he got it for free during an arts and crafts event he visited? Wanderer actually made it himself during that event and used beads of your favorite colors. The Aranara watched him spend a lot of time crafting that bracelet with the greatest care, but Nahida left that part out.

In addition, she would subtly drop hints for you to invite Wanderer to hang out more often. For example, the Zubayr Theater was hosting a play and Nahida heard there was a discount if you bought two tickets. Why don’t you go and invite Wanderer to come with you?

As for Wanderer, she discreetly told him that you once mentioned wanting to try out a new drink at Puspa Cafe but had nobody to go with, so why not be a good friend and take you there himself? Wanderer initially objected, but ultimately caved in and invited you to the Café while commenting that a certain annoying sprout said you wanted to try a new drink there, though deep down he glad for the opportunity to spend more time with you. Nahida could tell by the way Wanderer went out of his way to spoil you that day, buying you anything you wanted and keeping you company until the sun set.

Little by little, Nahida softened Wanderer towards the possibility of being in a romantic relationship with you, and helped you gather the courage to confess. Wanderer was unlikely to ever confess first, so the responsibility rested on your shoulders. She could tell you were nervous about laying bare your feelings, but she reassured you that things would go well. You only needed to take that leap of faith.

When you finally confessed, Nahida and the Aranara secretly observed the scene from behind a nearby corner, curious to see how things would go while also quietly cheering you on (not that you knew). When a flustered Wanderer accepted your confession, Nahida was overjoyed. She had fun guiding both of you towards this moment, but the satisfaction of knowing you could finally be together the way you always wished was rewarding in its own way. Even when Wanderer later confronted her about spying on you during your confession and scolded her for it, the little Archon’s happiness didn’t wane. She looked forward to seeing what your newfound relationship would blossom into, and had no doubt it would be something beautiful and pure, just like your love for each other.

👁️‍🗨️ Cyno

It was no secret to Tighnari that you and Cyno liked each other. He had known about your mutual crushes as far back as your student days at the Akademiya where you first met. You became fast friends with him and Cyno, but Tighnari couldn’t help but think Cyno was a bit more special to you than you let on. After all, you were one of the few who wasn’t intimidated by Cyno’s perpetual stern facial expressions and actively sought him out, and who actually laughed at his lame jokes.

Tighnari also knew about Cyno’s crush on you since his friend confided about it to him. Not that Cyno needed to say anything because Tighnari could see his attraction to you clear as day. Cyno’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you in the distance, he tried to act “cooler” in your presence in an attempt to impress you, and Tighnari swore that if Cyno had a tail, it would have wagged like a dog’s every time you laughed at his jokes.

Though he knew about your mutual romantic attraction to each other, Tighnari didn’t want to stick his nose into your love lives. He figured you guys would resolve everything yourselves in due time.

However, nothing changed even after you guys graduated. Your group remained close friends and saw each other regularly, but Tighnari was starting to lose his patience with how you and Cyno hopelessly pined for each other. He had already lost count of the number of times each of you came to him for advice on how to win the other over.

Cyno asked Tighnari’s opinion on a lot of things: Would you like his newest joke? Would you be okay with Cyno volunteering to be your bodyguard for your upcoming desert excursion? Which of his limited edition TCG cards best represented you? Cyno wanted to express how much you meant to him by giving you a card that reminded him of you.

You were no better. Tighnari had lost count of the number of times you approached him with questions about Cyno’s work schedule. Your excuse was that you wanted to plan hangouts with him, Collei, and Cyno during their days off, but Tighnari knew there was another reason why you asked about Cyno’s schedule in particular. He had half a mind to tell you to ask Cyno yourself because it was obvious that you just wanted to spend more time with the General Mahamatra. You also pestered Tighnari with questions about Cyno’s TCG deck. Much like his friend, you wanted to express your appreciation for Cyno by giving him cards he didn’t have yet.

Seriously, you two were a match made in heaven…

Tighnari would have found your mutual crushes on each other endearing, if only he wasn’t stuck being the middleman. As it stood, Tighnari wanted nothing more than to throttle both of you for pussyfooting around your feelings and getting him caught up in being your messenger. He was on the brink of snapping and sitting you both down to explain that your feelings were mutual, so just hurry up and get together already.

That’s why the next time Cyno approached him with another question about you, Tighnari took the opportunity to convince his friend to confess. He and Collei assured Cyno that you liked him a lot, and urged him to tell you his feelings. Cyno was hesitant but did seem to want some closure about whether you liked him back or not, so Tighnari gave him an incentive. How about the next time he played TCG with you, you guys set some stakes? Why not have a rule that the loser must tell the winner a secret? If Cyno lost, he would have to confess.

Cyno wasn’t fond of the idea initially, but agreed after some contemplation, acknowledging that this method would be effective in giving him that necessary push. Still, Tighnari could tell Cyno was nervous about confessing, so he volunteered to come along as moral support, much to Cyno’s gratitude.

That was how Tighnari and Collei found themselves at Puspa Cafe, sitting a few tables away from you and Cyno, hidden from your line of sight. Tighnari tutored Collei while Cyno played that fateful round of TCG against you, but the Forest Ranger kept a close eye on his friend. Though he didn’t want to get too invested in Cyno’s love life, even he couldn’t help but grow anxious as he watched the TCG match end with Cyno’s loss.

Although Tighnari was too far away to hear what Cyno was saying, he could tell the moment of confession had come. Now, the ball was in your court.

You looked stunned by whatever Cyno said, but soon smiled and said something that made Cyno mirror the happy expression on your face and reach out to hold your hand. Though he couldn’t hear, Tighnari knew you had reciprocated his feelings. Even Collei quietly fawned over how cute you both looked. It had been a long journey, but he was truly happy for his friend. Out of everyone, Cyno was happiest with you, and Tighnari hoped you would continue to make him happy for many years to come.

With everything ending well, Tighnari beckoned Collei and discreetly left the cafe before you or Cyno noticed. As happy as he was for you guys, he dreaded the possibility of Cyno coercing them into a TCG match. With how elated his friend must be right now, it was only a matter of time until Cyno called him and Collei over for a new game to celebrate you accepting his feelings. In Tighnari’s opinion, you guys deserved to have some proper time to yourselves to explore your feelings and new relationship without him and Collei serving as thirdwheels. That, and he just really didn’t want to sit through another hour of watching Cyno show off for you.

[darnell-la]

Wolverine forcing you to squirt for the first time?? Pretty please?

note: if you’d like an older Wolverine, you can request again. we wrote this one too fast and made it the younger Wolverine. it’s still hot!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Can’t tell me you’ve never squirted before and expect me to move on with life,” Logan said after placing you on the bathroom counter he had dragged you to during a drinking game.

The party was loud and you could still hear people playing Truth or Shot. After one of the girls asked if a man had made you squirt, and you answered that you hadn’t even done such a thing, Logan knew he had to do something about it.

He had made an excuse, asking if you could come fill up his cup with him. Of course, you came with him. He was a good friend, but you didn’t know he’d throw his cup away and drag you to the nearest bathroom.

“L-Logan -- Calm down,” Y/n gasped as his teeth sunk into her neck. “Ah uh,” he crowled, needing to give her what she deserved. “Can smell you, baby -- Can’t just leave you like this,” the man’s hands ripped at her panties after he pulled her dress up.

The young girl let out a low and shaky moan as his finger pushed inside of her. His eyes glued right on her face, watching her fall apart on his fingers in an instant.

“C’mon, baby, give it to me,” he growled, as he turned and twisted his finger in and out of her. “Too much,” she said whined as her hands fell on his shoulder. “Fuck, there’s no way,”

Logan couldn’t believe it, It seemed like she was a virgin. There’s no way one finger would make her get like this.

“Don’t lie to me, baby — Just tell me another man’s made you cum,” Logan wanted to know, but he knew the answer already. His eyes still locked onto hers, as her eyes drifted away every few seconds. She felt high, but she hadn’t smoked or drank tonight.

“N-No one has, Logan,” y/n took a while to admit, but thankfully for him, she got it out. The young girl's mind was going crazy. Logan hadn't ever shown a lick of affection towards her, yet now he was worried about whether a man had touched her?

She was confused, but he wasn’t. The thought of another man making her squirt first was unacceptable to him. He couldn’t let that happen.

Logan let his ego get the best of him, but so what? He was going to make her squirt tonight, tomorrow, the day after, and then the days after that. He was going to be the first and then last.

“I know you can take another,” the man said as he pulled out, instantly pushing two in next. “Logan!” The girl moaned at the burning feeling of her walls stretching. She was wet, but she still had to get used to the new and unfamiliar feeling.

“Fuck, yes, baby,” Logan couldn’t get over her. She looked so damn pretty. He wished he had done this months ago. He’ll gain those days back. He’ll spend every day licking at her cunt until she drowns him.

“P-P-Please,” y/n stuttered hard, trying to close her legs, but the man used his free hand to push them back open. He gripped her tightly. She wasn't going to stop him. He needed this.

“Keep your fuckin’ legs open, or I’ll fuck this cunt dumb,” the man threatened, wanting nothing to get in the way of feeling her drench his fingers. She has already coated them with slightly white and clear liquid. She never knew a man would like how much she leaked.

“Logan,” the girl gripped his shoulders tighter with a sob, feeling the knot in her stomach getting harder to control. She was embarrassed, but he wanted all over her whether she wanted to give it to him or not.

“Be a good girl — Make a mess, and I’ll clean that shit right up,” the man told no lie as his two fingers curled. Within seconds, y/n’s mouth parted as her head leaned back. Her eyes crossed as she felt her legs go stiff and her toes curled.

“Augh,” she let out a choked cry as she released on the man’s fingers. “Oh, that’s it, baby — That’s it!” The man finger fucked her cunt a bit harder to get every last drop out of her.

“P-Please,” the girl pushed at his wrists, needing a break, but he wouldn't stop. She gave up after a while and decided to pull the man into a tight hug as she struggled to breathe.

Y/n was still leaking down his hand. She couldn’t stop. He had made the girl go on for almost an hour until she passed out on his chest. breathing lightly from the exhaustion.

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing he had the girl dumb and cute, all for him. She was his. She marked him, and later when he sweet talks her into taking him as hers, he'll mark her.

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[innerfare]

You Just Do It Better 

Summary: There are some things that are better left to you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:  

When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better. 

Zoro: 

Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better. 

Sanji: 

Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better. 

Ace: 

It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better. 

Sabo: 

You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better. 

Law: 

You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better. 

Kid: 

Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[evansbby]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Steve Rogers x naive!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: VERY DARK ELEMENTS, noncon, extremely rough smut, daddy kink, captain kink, age gap (Steve is very into the age gap), MAJOR size kink, no seriously Steve is HUGE, misogyny, loss of virginity, mentions of blood (heavy mentions), mean Steve (seriously, he has no soul and is very mean, honestly unhinged), anal play, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, naive reader, 18+ ONLY, NO MINORS. MINORS DNI.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Even Captain America deserves a reward after an intense, grueling mission.

𝐀/𝐍: Here we go! 16.3k words. Written very quickly. Not edited so please be forgiving. Also I don't have much knowledge on Shield and all that, so yeah! Final warning to PLEASE read the warnings! Anyways, enjoy!

“The girl’s ready, Captain.”

Steve nods at the SHIELD agent tersely, “She’s in my room?”

“Yes, sir. And all your specifications have been followed.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

The agent bows his head before leaving the office, and Steve finds himself pacing. He often paced after gruelling missions, as if trying to get all the leftover adrenaline out. Tonight had been particularly challenging; a local university under threat from HYDRA. Thousands of screaming staff and students, the air painted with gunshots and screams of chaos. But Steve’s team had come to the rescue. Just like they always did.

His team all had different ways of dealing with it, the trauma and evil they saw every day. Clint had his family to go home to, and some middle-of-nowhere farmhouse that Steve would’ve found quaint if he’d given more of a fuck. Tony’s solution was alcohol – copious amounts of it. And maybe that would’ve been Steve’s fate too, stumbling out of a bar at three in the morning having no idea where he was, but of course, he had the serum to thank for avoiding him that. Natasha immersed herself in her friends, Sam partied a lot, Bruce locked himself up in his lab because God knew he was wrestling more demons than anyone else. Except maybe Bucky… But even Bucky had a girl to help him cope.

That left Steve. But Steve had this.

I deserve this. He thinks it to himself as he makes his way out of his office and down the hall toward the elevator. There are SHIELD agents scattered here and there, chattering mindlessly about the successful mission and how, thanks to the Avengers, there were no civilian deaths. But they all hush when they see him, parting like the Red Sea, their heads bowed in respect as he walks past them. The Captain. The hero. Their leader. He’s still in his suit, the shield still on his back and bloodied cuts decorating his face. Nevertheless, he’s the face of the Avengers. Everyone in this building looks up to him.

Everyone on the face of this Earth looks up to him.

And a few minutes later, when he gets off the elevator and to his private floor, walks over to his bedroom door and opens it, he finds a large pair of eyes looking up at him too.

You jump, the fear on your face so evident that Steve can almost smell it. Standing in the corner of his room as if you want to permeate through the wall or maybe disappear altogether. Your arms hug your body in a bid to hide it from whoever you thought was going to enter this room, but you seem to relax once you see that it’s him.

“C-Captain, it’s you! Oh, thank God!” Your shoulders sag in relief, although – much to Steve’s displeasure – you continue to cover your body with your arms, “I-I don’t know what happened, but there’s some bad people here, and they took me while I was being evacuated from the university, a-and they brought me here and they wouldn’t answer my questions and–”

Steve frowns as you drone on and on, talking about a mile a minute – a quality he doesn’t particularly care for in a woman. But his eyes drink you nevertheless. You look young – a college student, no doubt – but he finds he doesn’t mind that. In fact, it makes his cock harden, seeing how wide-eyed and naïve you look, a lot younger than him. A pretty face, and an attractive body too despite the fact that you seemed hell bent on hiding it from him.

“Put your arms down by your side.” He commands you, watching closely as you stop mid-sentence, your voice trailing off. He can tell you’re uncomfortable, confused, and probably tired out from fighting and arguing with his agents. But he knows already what’s going through your mind: that you’ll obey because it’s Captain America, and Captain America was a hero who always meant well. Hesitantly, slowly, your arms fall down to your sides.

Steve had very specific tastes, and his agents knew to follow his instructions to a tee. Which was why you stood before him, your body sheathed in the prettiest, most expensive vintage lingerie. All lacy and intricate, just how Steve liked it – white and silky, hugging your body like a second skin and accentuating your curves, making you look like half angel, half seductress. He’d long ago, in a different lifetime, pored over old pin-up magazines, just like any other boy his age would. He’d likened the white lingerie in the pictures to be what his innocent bride would wear the night he deflowered her. Back in the forties, back when he’d been a different man, a man who actually cared about trivial things like marriage and family. Years of war and fighting had beaten that out of him.

And yet, almost a century later, Steve still has a partiality for white, lacy lingerie.

After every mission (successful or not) SHIELD would bring him a girl in vintage lingerie. Always an unsuspecting girl who had no idea what she was being pulled into. They came in all sorts of varieties; crying, kicking, screaming, paralysed in fear when they realised the reason they were in his bedroom. But Steve deserved it, for every single sacrifice he’d made for his country, for the world – he deserved this one bit of pleasure. Bucky had his girl, Sam had his parties, Tony had his alcohol, Bruce had his lab… And Steve had this.

And it was the least you could do, the least all those girls before you could do, because hadn’t Steve saved you? Saved all of you? This was his payment. You were his reward.

“C-Captain?” He notices how you can’t help but stutter, and he finds it amusing despite the fact that he’s used to having this effect on women – especially immature college girls like you. You gesture down to your body, “Th-This isn’t how I was dressed – they put me in this, those bad guys! N-Now I don’t know where my clothes are, and, and…”

Once more, your voice trails off as Steve walks past you nonchalantly. He heads to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open so he can keep an eye on you lest you try to escape. Not that you’d get very far – this whole floor was his and every lock required his facial recognition to open. In the past, other girls had tried to escape, and sometimes Steve enjoyed the chase. But tonight, he felt tense. He’d wanted to capture all the HYDRA agents but two of them had escaped. To Steve, that was failure, and failure made him tense. Angry. Frustrated. He needed someone submissive, obedient, quiet…

“C-Captain, I’m gonna be okay, aren’t I?” You ask, voice high-pitched and shaky, and Steve almost smirks. He stands in front of the sink, surveying the scratches on his face. They’d heal overnight, and once more he’d be the perfect face of the Avengers. The face of America. The face of hope, the face of good. If only they knew what went on behind his eyes, the thoughts he thought, the darkness behind the façade.

He washes his hands, observing the blood as it swirls down the drain of the sink.

“Sir… Captain… Is there a way I could call my family? They’ll be worried about me, and those people took my phone so I don’t–”

“Get on the bed.”

“H-Huh?”

“Get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself.”

Steve’s voice is soft, levelled, yet commanding. And he knows you’ll listen. He’s been over this with so many of the other girls brought in for him as a post-mission reward. You still trust him, he can see it in your eyes. You know him as the superhero you see on TV, where he’s all clean-cut and politically correct as he commands the hearts of millions through his motivational speeches and actions. And by the looks of it, you’re so naïve that he knows you haven’t yet figured out what “get on the bed” truly infers to.

And so you do, gingerly settling down on the edge of his king-sized bed, shaking like a little leaf but he can tell that you’re trying to keep a brave face as you look up at him, determined to trust the super-soldier that the whole country trusted. And breaking that trust, breaking that spirit that shone in your innocent eyes, that was the sweet release he needed tonight, or any other night after each mission made him grow more disillusioned. Breaking your trust, breaking your body so all of this was worth it.

Sometimes, Steve wonders when exactly he had changed. He remembers how plucky and optimistic he used to be. A little bit sardonic, a little bit sarcastic, but he really did have a heart of gold – at least that’s what people told him. Even after they’d dug him out from that iceberg, he’d still been that same guy. But that was years ago, and each day he grew more disillusioned with what he preached, what he stood for. He could never settle, never feel like he fully belonged in the world he kept risking his life to save over and over again. Even Bucky, who’d gone through so much, had managed to find fulfilment through finding love.

Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t think love exists.

What does exist is you… Sweet, quivering, innocent little you. The SHIELD agents know his tastes down to a tee, and physically, you’re everything he likes, everything he prefers. It’s nights like these when Steve really feels alive, when he snuffs out the innocence of some unsuspecting girl and reaps his reward for saving countless lives. He deserves this. God knows he deserves this.

“What’re you doing?” You whisper, eyes round as saucers as he reaches out to stroke your hair. He bristles slightly, annoyed by your persistant questions. You should know better – he was your superior after all. But you’d learn by the time the night was over, and so Steve resumes petting you, slipping his hand down to rub your cheek, feel your smooth skin under the rough callouses of his hand.

The same hand that had choked two or three HYDRA bastards to death earlier tonight.

“You will address me as Captain.” He says, dismantling his shield from his back and placing it on the floor against the bed. He follows your gaze, how your mouth drops open in awe despite how scared you are. His cock hardens, knowing you’re impressed by him. By his size, because he’s aware he looks even bigger in person than on the news – enough girls have told him that. And by the shield too, because it reflected his power, his status, everything that he supposedly stood for.

You clear your throat nervously, “S-Sorry, uh, Captain, I just, uh, I was wondering when you’d take me home,” you say the last few words quickly, as if you’re mouth’s dry and you’re rushing to get all your words out. “I n-need to get home, my parents will be worried about me, Captain, and I have homework–”

Steve almost snorts at that. Homework. You were even more innocent than he thought you were, if one of your biggest concerns was whether you’d get your homework done or not. And this naivete amuses him, enamours him, but most importantly, it gets him hard.

“You’ll be taken home tomorrow.” He informs you, his tone clipped and formal, clinical like a doctor informing his patient when they’d be discharged. He liked to keep it like that between him and his “rewards.” Steve didn’t believe in intimacy, and didn’t feel the need to waste kindness on you or any of the previous girls. He faked kindness and heroic optimism all day, it was only at night in the privacy of his quarters that he could shed all that away and allow his darkness to take over.

“T-Tomorrow? Why? Why not tonight? And why am I here, anyways? Everyone else was evacuated together!”

“Enough.” He says sternly, and you shrink back like a chastised child, or an injured puppy. He watches your lower lip as it juts out, and he wonders if you’ve done that on purpose as a way to appease him. He wouldn’t fall for it though, he was wise to women and all their cheap tricks they used to wrap weaker, lesser men around their fingers. Steve would never be one of those men. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”

Your lower lip quivers, “I don’t understand…”

He sits down next to you, acutely aware of how much bigger he is than you. Leisurely, his eyes drink in your body now that he’s much closer to you. The bra pushes your breasts upwards so they spill out attractively over the creamy white lace of the lingerie, and he watches them rise up and down as you breathe heavily, probably trying to keep yourself from crying. He wishes you would cry – tears have always turned him on. But the night is young, and he knows he’ll see some tears soon, he always does.

“C-Captain, please, please help me! I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know how I got into this outfit, I think they drugged me, and I’m scared, and I have homework, and I gotta go now, so pl– OW!”

Steve yanks you forward by your hair, till your face is inches from his, and he can practically smell your fear. Eyes as big as saucers look up at him, shining bright with unshed tears of both fear and pain. He loosens his grip slightly, despite the fact he isn’t holding you too tightly – but the serum gives him inhumane strength, and you’re just a weak little girl after all.

“Once again, I’m telling you not to speak without permission. Do not make me repeat myself one more time.”

You swallow harshly, bowing your head once he lets go of your hair. But your lips are now pressed tightly together, as if you’re hoping he’ll take you home if you shut up and listen. There’s still light in your eyes, you’re beginning to question him inwardly but you still trust him, Steve knows you do. And it’s not long now before he crushes that trust completely.

He sighs at your compliance, stroking your quivering bare arm, thrill shooting straight down to his cock because of how soft and smooth you are. He likes the juxtaposition between the two of you right now: you, so soft and small, so much younger than him, like a doll in your pretty lingerie that he’d picked out. And him, more than double your size, jaded with age that didn’t physically show, bloodied and scratched suit, rough hands, dark thoughts.

“C-Captain, I’m scared,” you whisper, and you really do look like you’re about to wet yourself, and it turns him on so much that he doesn’t even bristle at you speaking out of turn again.

“Good.” He murmurs, continuing to stroke you like you’re his little doll. There’s something about you, something so pure that he can’t really put his finger on. In the past, he’s been detached, unforgiving, often just throwing his “reward” on the bed, holding her head down against the mattress while he fucked the living daylights out of her. He would be detached and cold with you too, but this time he feels a peculiar need to savour you at the same time.

It's when he grabs your hand and places it on his hard crotch that you start crying in earnest, finally realising your fate.

“What’re you– No, please, not that! Please, I don’t know what’s going on, Captain, please–”

You try to snatch your hand back, but he holds it steadily in place. You’d never be a match for his strength, no matter how hard you tried – he had more brute power in his pinkie finger than you did in your whole body. And that turns him on even more.

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he repeats, not even sure why he’s explaining anything to you, because he usually doesn’t speak to the girls brought for him at all, let alone reassure them. “Tomorrow, you’ll see your family but tonight, your body is mine and I’ll do with it what I please.”

You look like you’ve seen a ghost, but quickly you shake your head, blinking rapidly as if you’ve misheard him. “N-No, Captain, I don’t want to! Y-You can’t make me,” you look at him pleadingly, trying to tug your hand back but he holds it firmly against his covered cock, “You won’t make me, will you, Captain? Th-That’s wrong! An’ you’re a good man so you’d never do that!”

“Take it out.”

A different man would have perhaps consoled you, told you it would all be over soon, or maybe even made up an excuse to manipulate you into sleeping with him. A better man would’ve taken pity on you, given you your clothes back and taken you home. But Steve wasn’t like any of those men. All Steve was right now was impatient, and more than ready for his reward. I deserve it, he thinks once more to himself, before pressing your small hand down on his crotch meaningfully.

“Take my dick out.” He repeats sternly, and when you still don’t comply (probably because you’re frozen in shock and fear) Steve can’t help but quickly undo his fly before pushing your hand down his suit pants, letting out a hiss when he feels your dainty palm and fingers on his rock-hard flesh.

“No, no, no, please no,” you cry softly, rivulets of tears streaking your face, “This is wrong, Captain, please.”

He makes you wrap your hand around his cock, smirking to himself when your fingers don’t even come close to wrapping around all the way. The serum had made him a lot bigger than average, and a lot thicker too. So much so that every time he had sex, no matter how much he stretched the girls out, there would always be blood. He’d grown to become turned on by the sight of it.

“I’ve seen you on TV,” you whisper desperately, and he knows you’re in that state of mind where you’re just so scared that you’ll say anything and everything, “I’ve seen how you are, a-and you’re supposed to be the good guy, Captain. Please, let me go, y-you’re a good man so please–”

“Shut up.” He says simply, making you take his dick out. That quietens you up for a second, and you gape at his huge dick as it slaps up against his abs which are still covered by the suit. He hasn’t had sex or jacked off in about a week now (missions, press conferences, community work and other bullshit had kept him busy) and his dick is almost angry hard, the veins so prominent as he throbs in your hand.

“Stroke it.” He instructs you.

You shake your head, hand limp around his hard cock, “You c-can’t, this is wrong.”

“Drop the coy act,” he orders you, feeling a surge of impatience when he’s tried to be level with you for so long, “I know what you kids watch these days on the internet, and all the vulgar movies on television. Now do what I fucking say, or else.”

You look both taken aback and hurt by his sharper tone, and immediately you’re shaking your head.

“N-No, Sir, please. I don’t watch any of that stuff, I’m not allowed to, okay? A-And this is wrong on so many levels, you’re meant to be a good guy!”

Steve finds his cock hardening even more when he hears how you’re not allowed to watch the vulgarity that’s become so normalised in the media now as compared to back in the day. Were you, perhaps, a girl with morals? Someone who was raised well? He had yet to run in to such a girl in the twenty-first century.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” you try again when he doesn’t speak, “you and the Avengers, you’ve saved c-countless people. You’ve won wars for us. I w-went to see you when you gave a talk at my school last year, the one about good versus evil. You’re an inspiration, Captain, you wouldn’t do this!”

You’re talking a mile a minute, and Steve knows you’re doing it to prolong time till your inevitable fate. He’s tortured enough men to know that goners loved to run their mouths. As for what you’re saying, it has zero effect on him. He didn’t believe in what he said, what he stood for – you could never use that to persuade him to take a higher road.

He starts moving your hand up and down on his dick, hissing again because of how pleasurable your dainty hand feels on his rock-hard length, not to mention how much it turns him on that you’re still trying to pull your hand away, looking anywhere but at his cock, embarrassment mixing with the bone-chilling fear on your face.

“Y-You’re not a good man!” you finally sob out, shaking from head to toe as realisation finally seeps through your head.

Your words bristle Steve for whatever reason. In the past, his “rewards” have often back-talked him, insulted him as if they thought their words would have any impact on him – which they never did. But seeing you, with your bright, optimistic eyes that clearly looked up to him up until this moment, hearing you call him a bad guy… It makes him feel defensive.

“I saved you.” He spits out, “HYDRA attacked your university and I saved you and all your little friends. You’d be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You nod desperately, “I-I know, Captain, that’s why I don’t understand why you’re doing thi–”

“I deserve this.” He says simply, cutting you off. “I risk my life to save unthankful people like you, over and over again. Even a super soldier deserves payment, or at least an incentive to do what I do.”

Your jaw drops open, speechless and horrified. Steve couldn’t care less, and he feels another wave of impatience. Two weeks ago, he’d endured a similarly gruelling mission, and his reward had been waiting for him in his room. She’d been mouthy, of course, as most women of the twenty-first century were, but he’d fucked her and sent her packing within fifteen minutes. So why, on this particular occasion, was he sitting here making idle chit-chat with some dumb-witted college girl who was half his age?

He's always been quick, and you yelp in surprise when he grabs you by the waist, his rough fingers digging into your soft skin. He drags you into his lap, till you’re crying on top of him, your back to his chest. You struggle and flail against him, but it’s to no avail as he presses you down on top of his thigh, spreading your legs and locking them with his own.

“Stop struggling,” he orders you through gritted teeth, although he has to admit that having a weak girl like you fighting against him with all her might while he held you down with just his one arm was quite arousing, “It’ll be easier for you if you just stay still.”

“Please don’t, I-I’m not ready for this, I’ve never done this before, I–”

Steve snorts at that. He knows you’re young, but he also knows that girls in this century are promiscuous, and that’s putting it kindly. How many lies would you tell before you realised they’d all be in vain? He was goddamned Captain America, and he was going to have his way with you tonight no matter what came out of that pretty, pouty mouth of yours.

Grabbing your soft, bare thighs with his hands, he pushes them further apart, all while you cry and quiver in his arms like a wounded animal. Your white, lacy panties hide your pussy from his greedy, impatient gaze, and he wants nothing more than to rip your lingerie apart and ravage you to soothe the ache of his hard cock which is currently pressing against your back.

“Push your panties aside.” He commands, “and don’t even think about arguing with me. One more word of insubordination out of you, and you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

You’re sobbing and sobbing as you gingerly do what he says, and he licks his lips when he sees your bare pussy, trussed out for him as he holds your legs apart. He can’t help but press a finger on your bundle of nerves before swiping downwards over your slit. He frowns. You’re not wet. That simply won’t do.

Of course, he’s been in this situation before. Not often, because truthfully, women got wet the second they looked at him, turned on by his size, his power, his authority. But sometimes, like now, when one of his “rewards” was very scared and non-compliant, she wouldn’t be wet. Steve didn’t care, and he’d go in dry if he could except, with the sheer size of his dick, it just wasn’t physically possible. Often, he’d tell the SHIELD agents to prep his rewards before they were sent to his room – stretch their pussies out by whatever means (he didn’t care) so long as they were able to take his girth.

But you… Oh, he reckons he’ll have fun with stretching you out all by himself.

“Touch yourself.” He says into your ear, holding you in place tightly.

“I…I…I don’t know how, I don’t– I don’t do this, I’ve never done this, I–”

There’s something about your frightened demeanour that makes him realise that maybe you’re not lying after all. He raises a brow, “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“N-No, Sir – I mean Captain – I’m not allowed to. My parents are very conservative, Sir, I haven’t even had my first kiss. Please don’t make me do this!”

Steve didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder, but it does. So big and painfully hard, it presses against your back almost indecently as he licks his lips, now infinitely more interested in you. So you were a girl raised right in these godforsaken “modern” times. His mind conjures up different ways in which he could teach you, mould you, ruin you… He doesn’t remember the last time he had a virgin – it was probably back in the forties, back when women were pure and of good heart and good intentions.

Maybe tonight’s reward would be sweeter than any other.

He grabs your hand, pressing it against your petal-soft folds. He takes your pointer finger and slowly, gently, circles it around your clit. You fight against him but it only takes you a few seconds to realise that your efforts are completely futile. Steve does not care for what you want, not in the least. You’re his reward, and he deserves this.

He leaves your finger on your clit, shooting you a deathly look that conveys that you better keep circling it or else. His own eager fingers explore your core, slipping down to probe you, finding that not even one of his fingers fits inside your little fuckhole. In fact, he tries pushing his pinkie finger up inside but to no avail at all. Fuck. You weren’t lying – you were definitely a virgin. Another telltale sign is how it only takes a handful of seconds before your wetness begins to spread, and you whimper softly – probably at all the foreign sensations you’re feeling as Steve continues to probe your hole.

“Feels good, huh?” Steve hears himself say softly, and he doesn’t know why he’s bothering wasting words on you. He never spoke to any of his other rewards – they were only there for his pleasure, and may as well have been inanimate objects to him. Dolls brought in for him to use and then promptly taken away when he was done with them. But you? Fuck, Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him.

“I-It won’t fit, Captain, please stop,” you cry softly when he tries to force his finger into you again. You’re adequately wet now, but your pussy continues to reject his finger, and he knows there’s no way you’ll be able to take his dick if he doesn’t stretch you out with his fingers first.

“I’ll make it fit,” he mutters, throwing you aside on the bed and standing up quickly. He sucks his finger into his mouth, tasting your sweetness and shutting his eyes for a second to savour your taste. And then he shoots you a warning look, “Stay there.”

He smirks when you don’t move an inch – probably paralysed with fear – as he walks over to the dresser next to his bed. Rummaging through his drawers, he sorts past all the sex toys that some agent had probably stocked up inside. Steve didn’t have much use for them, as he considered himself too traditional for toys. But he can’t help but be turned on by the idea of using a large dildo on you, or stuffing your virgin ass with a cute plug. But for right now, he grabs the bottle of lube – it’s half empty because of how often he’s had to use it on his past partners. Since the serum, his dick was way too big to go in naturally, especially when it came to a sweet virgin like you.

Roughly, he pushes you down till your back is pressed against his king-sized mattress. He climbs on top of you, rolling his eyes at the fight left in you, how you flail and fight against him despite his body being more than twice your size. He uses his arm to hold you down, but truthfully, he could’ve done it with just his pinkie finger.

“Stay still,” he commands, pinning your limbs down flat against the bed. You resort to sniffling and crying silently, your wary eyes watching him as he spreads your legs as wide as they’ll go. A sudden feral urge takes over him, and he rips your panties in half, the flimsy material landing gracefully on his sheets. Your bare pussy glistens up at him, now wet with your sweet cream despite how much you continue to cry. He can smell your sexy aroma; the scent of a virgin pussy and it goes straight to his dick.

With an animalistic snarl, he dips his head down between your legs. Using two fingers to spread your creamy petals, he lays his tongue flat against your quivering fuckhole. You scream in shock, body jerking underneath him but he doesn’t care. He grips your thighs, lifting your ass and lower back up off the bed, watching carnally as your wetness drips down to between your ass crack. He spreads your cheeks, smirking when you wail in surprise. He digs his eager tongue between your cheeks, probing your puckered, virgin ass before licking a straight line all the way back up to your pussy, ending with a harsh suck on your clit as he holds your hands at bay.

It’s come out of nowhere, this sudden need to taste you. Back in the forties; Steve had rather enjoyed going down on women. He knew he was skilled at giving head, he’d been told more than enough times. But he can’t remember the last time he’d done it. Never with any of his “rewards,” who were only ever good for fucking on their hands and knees like dogs. But you, you were different.

You wiggle, crying and begging him to let go of you but you may as well be a fly with how weak and inconsequential your pleas are to his ears. Instead, he laps at your baby cunt like he’s starved. Like a starved caveman, he spits down on your clit, wanting to make your pureness as messy as possible. He spreads his saliva all over your core with his fingers, marking you up with his DNA. He encases your now engorged bundle of nerves between his lips once more, giving it another hard suck but this time his teeth graze against it.

“C-Captain, oh-oh my God–Ah!”

It’s when Steve finally forces his one finger inside you that you squirt, drenching his digit as your walls clamp down around it. And God-fucking-dammit, he can’t believe how tight you’re squeezing his one singular finger, how tight and sexy and soft you feel around it. How your slippery walls pulsate around his digit like you’ve never cum before in your life – which would explain how quickly you’ve come undone. Some of your wetness lands on his face, some of it on the sheets beneath you, and that’s when Steve realises he’s given a virgin her first orgasm.

He can’t help but smirk, his finger still lodged inside you, but not even halfway because you’re still so fucking tight.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop after all, sweetheart.” He says, not realising he’s used the pet-name on you until it’s already out of his mouth. He sets the lower half of your body back down on the bed, his finger still inside you.

You sniffle as your whole body shakes with the remnants of your orgasm, “P-Please,” you say faintly, and you can’t even raise your head to look down at him, “Please, can I go home now?”

Steve’s lip curls into a snarl, and he drives his finger inside you with renewed force, curving it upwards even when he feels resistance. You scream bloody murder, and he knows if your orgasm hadn’t sapped all your energy, you’d be flailing your legs again. But for now, he easily holds you down, feeling your soft walls encase his finger which is now up to the hilt inside you. That’s when he grabs the bottle of lube, squirting out a generous amount onto the rest of his fingers.

“N-No, Captain, please, I can’t take another one, I can’t, I can’t!” You plead, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “Captain – Steve – please listen to me, please, look, I can’t take another finger, pl–”

His palm lands on your clit with a wet smacking sound, and you howl in pain, your pelvis lifting off the bed except he pins you back down with just one hand.

“Don’t fucking use my first name. You will address me as Captain. One more slip up and I won’t do you the favour of stretching you out.” His intense blue eyes meet your tear-filled ones, “And trust me, you want to be stretched out for when I fuck you.”

With gritted teeth and a cock that’s now painfully hard, he gets to work trying to stuff another finger into your pussy. His other hand grabs your hip in a bruising grip, and his fingers stroke your smooth, bouncy ass every so often like he can’t help it. You’re turning him on so fucking much; with your crying, how you’re begging him to stop, how weak and small you are, how fucking tight your pussy is. It makes Steve want to say something just so he can hear you speak in response, despite the fact that he’s never vocal during sex.

“Tell me, why is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You sniffle again, shooting him a pleading look that he doesn’t even bother acknowledging. He just looks at you with waiting eyes as he nonchalantly continues to force his second finger inside you. He wants to hear you say naughty things with your innocent little mouth, and talking would get you to fucking relax so he could penetrate you with his digits properly in order to stretch you out in preparation for his dick.

“I-I’ve never done this before…” you scrunch your eyes shut, but a quick slap to your thigh has you opening them again.

“You’ve never fingered yourself?”

“No!”

“Tell me why not.”

You bow your head, “I don’t know… I just… I never did, okay? I’ve never done any of it.”

A wicked thought crosses Steve’s mind, “Oh yeah? You’ve never done anything naughty, huh? You’re a good girl?” His second finger curves up to join the first, and your hips jerk forward as you suck in your breath. It makes him smile, and he slowly begins to pump his two fingers in and out of you, “You’ve never, say, humped your baby cunt against your pillow at night? Or your stuffed animals?”

The way you freeze and how your eyes widen is all the confirmation Steve needs. He chuckles darkly.

“So that’s the type of girl you are. Riding your pillow at night when you think no one’s watching, and you probably touch your body all over, too, don’t you?” Lightning quick, his other hand leaves your hip, grabbing your wrist and bringing your hand up to your chest. Through the material of your bra, he makes you cup your breast like how he would, wanting to watch with dark eyes as you play with your tits, trying to imagine how hot you’d look doing just that all alone in the privacy of whatever girlish bedroom you had.

Steadily, he continues to finger you, pumping his digits in and out of your greedy, wet pussy, and it makes slurping sounds as it swallows his fingers in over and over again. And he observes you carefully, notices your wide eyes, the sweat on your brow, the way your lips are parted as your breathing shallows out. He even sees the slight buck of your hips, and he knows he has you where he wants you, hanging on to his every filthy word despite your mind screaming at you to continue resisting.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Steve mutters lowly, “I know that’s what all innocent little girls like you do when they think they’re alone. You play with your tits and you rub your cunt all over your pillow, till you’ve got it all wet and messy. All while you fantasise about a man like me fucking you, taking care of you, huh? I’m right, aren’t I?”

You’re full on panting now, as if his beguiling words have made you forget all about your resistance, and you rock your hips harder against his thick fingers, little pants and moans sneaking past your pouty lips as he watches you closely.

“And then you act like a good girl, and you lie to me and tell me you’ve never touched yourself. But you and I both know that’s not true. Not when you spend your nights alone in your bedroom riding your little pillow while mommy and daddy sleep in the next room, and then when you’re done, I bet you bring it up to your face, just so you can smell your own wetness, right?”

This time, he gives your ass a swift slap when you don’t reply, and you cry out in pain before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Y-Yes,” you breathe softly, so softly that he barely catches it. But it makes him grin wickedly all the same. He hasn’t had this much fun with a reward since God knows when. He never bothers speaking to the lowlife girls brought to him as post-mission rewards, let alone engaging in dirty talk with them as he was with you, hanging on to your every word because it makes his dick so fucking hard.

“Of course, I’m right,” he mutters, “Captain always knows. I know you’re a little slut in the making just like all the other college girls of this century. You bring your pillow up to your face and you smell your cunt on there, and you lick it too, don’t you? You taste yourself because you’re curious, and you don’t have a man like me to show you how it’s done.”

He slips his fingers out of your cunt, your walls automatically squeezing around them as if they want to keep him inside you. But his digits are dripping wet, and he brings them up to your face. He shoves them past your lips, and you protest but all it does is create vibrations around his fingers as he smears them inside your mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he orders you, “suck on daddy’s fingers, don’t be shy.”

It takes him a few seconds to register that he’s just referred to himself as daddy. He hasn’t done that in a while – not since the forties, at least. Back then, it was quite common for women to call their man daddy, and Steve remembers enjoying it when he used to fuck the show girls during tours. But now? He usually stuck to being called “sir” or “captain” or just nothing at all. Because “daddy” was way too intimate, it suggested that he was going to take care of you. And he wasn’t going to take care of you – he was going to ruin you before you’d be taken away tomorrow.

And yet you look so sweet and cute as you suck on his fingers, too scared to fight back any more although your eyes blaze with objection, and tears stream down your face. He doesn’t think you’ll stop crying at all tonight, but he doesn’t give a fuck about that. Not when your pouty lips look so hot sucking yourself off his fingers.

“That’s right, get ‘em nice and wet,” he murmurs lowly, before deciding he misses the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his fingers – and he still has to stretch you out, too. He removes his digits from your mouth, watching as you gasp to breathe. He trails them down your front, down your chest, down your torso, all the way down to your clit. He gives it another smack, loving how you jerk upwards like you’re so damn sensitive.

He grabs a pillow, putting it underneath your ass so he has your cunt propped up and he can examine it better. Your cream is pouring out of you almost, dripping down to the pillow below you while you cry and pretend you don’t like it. But the signs are all there, he can even see how your pelvis shakes and humps upwards, because you need a man to fill you up no matter how much you protest.

“Tight little baby cunt,” he says softly as he spreads your pussy lips once more. You look so wet and slippery and yet he knows he needs to pour some more lube into your fuckhole, which he does. And then, without giving you much time to react, he shoves three of his fingers inside you, pushing harder and with more force when he’s met with any barrier.

“STOP, NO, PLEASE! STOP, CAPTAIN – TOO MUCH!” You scream so loudly that the walls seem to vibrate around the two of you.

“Shut up and take it,” Steve says, narrowing his eyes up at you before he focuses back on your gorgeous cunt, watching as your leaking hole finally swallows his three digits, “Look at this greedy little virgin pussy, so ready for my big dick to split her in half.”

You shake your head violently, crying and protesting, but it’s when you bat at his head that he sees red. How fucking dare you hit him? Just now, when he was thinking you’d been raised well, but clearly not if you didn’t think it was a problem to hit your superiors.

“You raise your hand at me again, and I’ll hit you back twice as hard.”

His menacing words make you freeze, and you whimper quietly in absolute fear as he continues to play with your pussy. He fingers you in earnest now, three of his digits stretching you out as he scissors you open, amused by the squelching sounds your cunt makes as it swallows his fingers over and over again.

“Apologise to me,” Steve demands, “say you will not raise your hand at your superior ever again.”

You sniffle, “S-Sorry…”

“Sorry, who?” He pinches your ass unforgivingly.

“Sorry, Captain! I won’t raise my hand at my superiors, okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You squeal the last few words, your pitch going higher and higher as your hips begin to meet his thrusts. And bless your innocent fucking face, you look so confused by what’s happening. Your pussy’s jammed tight but he knows it must’ve started feeling good. All greedy little girls like you needed was a little push in the right direction.

Off their own accord, your thighs lock around his hand as you cum for a second time, your walls squeezing and pulsating against his fingers so fucking tightly as you mewl and cry above him. You’re absolutely gushing with wetness now, and the pillow below your ass is stained dark with your juices. For someone who kept claiming she didn’t want this, you sure were receptive to his touch.

Steve snatches his fingers out of you, smirking when you, despite everything, cry in protest at the loss of friction. He bets your pussy feels all gaping and empty now, because he knows how big and thick his fingers are. A normal-sized man would’ve had trouble stretching your virgin cunt out with his dick – Steve had had that same problem with just his fingers.

But he knows he’ll somehow manage to fit his cock inside you if he prepped you well enough. Or else he’d spend the whole night trying to. Often, with the women he’d slept with in the past, he’d be too impatient and couldn’t be bothered to prep them properly. Because of that, he’d only be able to fit half his dick inside them, and he’d grown used to fucking them like that, only because it was physically impossible to go any deeper. He won’t let that be the case tonight.

He climbs up your quivering body, and you look spent already after two orgasms, your eyes fluttering like you’re about to pass out. Steve can’t have that though, and he taps your cheek not so gently, hovering on top of you till you open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“Please, Captain,” you whisper faintly, “E-Enough, please. Can’t take any more.”

Steve ignores you. He’s grown distracted by your lips. How wet and warm and pouty they look, glistening with a mix of your salty tears, your cum and your saliva. Fuck. He never kissed any of his “rewards” before, it was too intimate and Steve didn’t do intimacy. But maybe…

He spits down on your face, his saliva landing on your cheek as you cringe. Fuck intimacy, Steve thinks, using his hand to smear his spit all over your face, till it’s shining with a mixture of both your bodily fluids. So messy yet so pretty…

“N-Never been kissed before!” you blurt out once more all of a sudden, as if you’ve read his mind. Your eyes plead up at him, a tiny bit of hope in your eyes as if you truly believe he’ll show you empathy and spare you, “P-Please, Sir. I’ve never been kissed, a-and I want it to be special…”

How cute. You were worried about him spoiling your first kiss as if he hadn’t just finger-fucked you to two orgasms in the span five minutes. Amused, he brings his thumb up to your mouth, stroking your pouty bottom lip gently.

“You don’t let the boys at your college kiss you?” He asks, again not fully understanding why he’s even bothering to talk to you, but he figures it’s simply because he finds it amusing.

“N-No, Captain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m t-too shy, and they’re not… they’re not interested in me,” you sound so shaky, peering up at him as if you expect him to just get off you now you’ve told him your sob story about wanting to save your first kiss to be something special.

Steve snorts. And just how fucking naïve could you be? You’re fucking delectable, he bets the lowlifes at your college creamed their pants thinking about you. Suddenly, he bristles at the thought of sending you back tomorrow, back to the dumb idiots you went to college with. But he shakes the thought out of his mind to focus solely on you.

“There’s nothing special about kissing,” he tells you, “Love, intimacy, saving yourself for that special someone – none of that’s real. The sooner you realise that, the better.”

He kisses you, cupping your cheeks with his hands so that you don’t move your face aside. At first, he’s rough, unforgiving, pressing his tongue into your mouth because you taste so sweet and he needs to get more. And then he slows down, registers your soft, quivering lips on his, how rigid they are as you don’t kiss him back. He snorts inwardly, not caring in the least. He’d kiss you all he wanted – he doesn’t care if you don’t respond.

Steve sighs into your mouth, so tuned in to your senses that he feels your breath hitch, and a tiny squeak sounds past your lips and straight into his. His thumbs, seemingly moving off their own accord, stroke your cheekbones, and he feels your body instinctively relax underneath his – probably because that’s the first and only gentle gesture you’ve felt from him this whole night.

Slowly, he sucks your bottom lip almost sweetly, as if lulling you into a false sense of security. You’re still too scared or shy to kiss him back, but that doesn’t make the kiss any less enjoyable for him. His tongue plays with yours coaxingly, because he can’t remember the last time he kissed a girl and liked it so much. And then he feels you give a tiny little kitten lick, as if you’re testing the waters as you move your tongue shyly against his. And the feeling goes straight to his dick.

He pulls away slightly to watch your face, amused when he sees your eyes scrunched shut and your lips slightly pursed, as if awaiting another kiss. And that’s what he does, giving you one, two, three quick pecks that have you inhaling deeply, and your eyes open cautiously. But they flutter shut almost immediately when they find him staring back at you.

Steve goes in for another kiss, as if one wasn’t enough because suddenly it’s like he’s parched, and his raging hard on would have to wait a second longer. His dick is as hard as a metal rod, resting against your bare stomach as he makes out with you. One of his hands reach down to cup your breast, and he can feel your nipple, hard as glass, poke against his palm even through the material of the bra. You squeak into his mouth again, as if him touching and playing with your breast is making your body invertedly respond to him.

He can definitely feel you kissing him back now, even though it’s shy and periodic… Your tongue moving slowly against his for a few seconds before you remember you’re not supposed to be enjoying this and you freeze. And then you start again, your tongue timidly stroking against his once more. Then you stop again. Repeat. It makes him smirk against your lips, feeling a rumbling in his chest like he wants to chuckle in amusement.

He pulls away, examining how breathless and cute you look. And you gaze up at him with glassy, wet eyes, those perfect, pouty lips still slightly puckered, as if you’re asking for more. But he continues to just drink in every detail of your face and how you look a mix of scared and curious, afraid and confused.

“W-Was I bad?” you breathe, and your innocent face is begging for reassurance. He knows because little girls like you always want reassurance, are always seeking out the approval of men like him. And a part of him wants to tell you no, no you weren’t bad at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed kissing you. But he keeps his mouth shut, because it wasn’t his job to reassure you. And maybe he wants you to be a bit insecure; you’d work harder in pleasing him if you thought he didn’t like your kiss.

He’s still cupping your breast with one hand, and he suddenly feels a wave of irritation at the lacy material of your bra. Quick as a wink, he tears your bra apart, the two ripped pieces now lying on either side of you. A hungry growl emanates from him, and he feels like an animal, he really just wants to suck on your tits but his dick is growing impatient, and you’d probably pass out from fear and dread if he stretched this out any longer.

He reaches to grab a condom from where he stashes them in his bedside drawer. Protection was a must for him – who knew what kinds of diseases all these modern, promiscuous girls were carrying? And yet, his hand falters before he draws back completely, his mind clouding with thoughts of how sexy your soft pussy would feel around his dick if he fucked you raw. Yes. He had to fuck you raw, feel your tight virgin pussy around him as he ruined it. He deserved as much.

Instead, Steve grabs the lube once more, acutely aware of you watching him with eyes round as saucers as he squirts a generous amount of it on his dick. He looks back at you, lying deathly still underneath him, looking like you’ve seen a ghost. He wonders if your pussy’s still tingling from the two orgasms he’s just given you, and he absentmindedly pumps his dick at the thought. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on before in his life, his dick so hard he feels he’ll blow his load right there and then.

He lines his cock up against your entrance, his hands holding your silky soft thighs apart. A part of him wishes you’d fight back just one more time, just so he could exert his dominance over you once more, just so it would highlight how weak and small you are. But you lay there, quivering in fear, definitely too scared to fight back, or too distracted by his dick he glides it up and down your wet slit in anticipation.

Suddenly, you grab his arm as if to stop him, and Steve narrows his eyes.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly.

“Yes.”

You whimper, your grip on his arm tightening as another tear trickles down your cheek, and you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please, Captain, p-please could you… could you make it hurt less? Please?” You beg him so prettily, and he can’t help but focus on how your tears get caught in your lashes, and how you sniffle like a baby. “Please, I’m sc-scared, I– maybe if you were slow–?”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what,” Steve says briskly, feeling impatient beyond belief, and yet a part of him wants to brush and collect your tears. “In fact, if I go in slowly, it’ll hurt more.” He wonders if he should say more, say anything at all to ease your discomfort. But he reasons that that’s not his job – he’s not a lovesick boyfriend who needs to worry about your feelings. This is for him. He deserves this.

You start crying softly once more, your whole body shaking. Steve tries to ignore it, focusing on your cunt instead. His dick is twitching with excitement, the tip an angry red as he brings it up against your fuckhole. He grits his teeth and pushes in, but he can’t. You’re too tight – and he’s way too big. He sighs in frustration.

“Stop being so tense.” He orders you, pouring another decent amount of lube all over his cock as well as your entrance. He’d scissored you open with three of his fingers, but it had been an extremely tight fit. And three of his fingers didn’t compare to the girth and thickness of his dick – not even the tip of it. He frowns down at you, “You need to relax. It’ll hurt less if you relax.”

A panicked look flits over your face as you look down at his dick, and he knows you’re intimidated by his size. But then you take a deep breath, close your eyes and he feels your body get less tense underneath him. He smirks.

He grabs his cock by the base and lines it up against your hole once more. You flinch away from him, your innocent, puppy dog eyes blinking up at him. He doesn’t give a fuck though, and with a lot more determination this time, he grits his teeth and forces his way inside you.

Your scream is earth-shattering. But it’s music to his ears.          

“NO, PLEASE, NO, TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! TOO BIG!”

You thrash violently underneath him, limbs flailing before he pins them down. But for a handful of seconds, he can’t even really focus on you. Not when he’s finally basking in the glory of being inside your tight little snatch, and it feels almost euphoric. You feel so sexy around him, so hot and velvety, squeezing the life out of his fat cock. Well, he’s only got a bit more than his tip inside you, but it already feels fucking heavenly.

“Oh fuck,” Steve mutters under his breath, trying to get a grip and not get too lost in the feeling of your gorgeous fucking pussy. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and yet he feels like his balls are about to blow with how fucking hot it feels being inside you like this.

“It hurts! T-Take it out, Captain! Please!” Your tiny hand grabs his forearm again, lips puckered so sweetly, even the grimace on your face looks beautiful. You’re beautiful when you’re in pain, and he’s addicted to the sight of it. For a split second, he imagines it’s his wedding night, and you’re his beautiful bride – sweet, innocent, beautiful bride and he’s just popped your cherry and now you’re his forever.

The thought makes him shudder, and he quickly pulls out (not that there’s much to pull out, since only his tip had entered you. You were crying and screaming just from being penetrated by only his tip, and this makes Steve smug, despite everything).

You’ve barely caught your breath when he drives his dick back inside you, and this time he really forces it in. Now that he’s got a taste of your warmth, he wants to be completely enveloped in it. His hands grab your hips tightly, forcing his fat cock inside you inch by inch. He doesn’t care if it takes all night, he was going to fully penetrate you if it was the last thing he did.

“Shhh, shut up and take it,” he orders you as you scream and protest. If any other one of his girls had screamed bloody murder the way you were doing right now, he would’ve smacked them unconscious. Not you though, and he doesn’t know why that is. “God fucking dammit, how is your pussy so fucking tight?”

“Y-You’re too big,” you answer, shaking your head over and over again, “th-this… this isn’t normal, Captain, y-you won’t fit! Please stop, something’s gonna break, I-I’m scared, I–”

He wants to break your pussy. He wants to break you.

“Shut up,” he snarls, before a thought occurs to him. Out of nowhere, he kisses you once more. Silencing your protests as his tongue works against yours, and he finds that he was already missing kissing you. God, you felt so good. Your warm, sexy lips against his and your warm, sexy pussy gripping his dick. God, fuck… So this is what great sex was, huh? Maybe he’d been fucking the wrong girls this whole time. Maybe he should’ve sought you out from the beginning – or someone like you. Someone young, innocent, unexperienced, delicate, fragile, a cry-baby. Just the complete opposite of him.

Despite everything, you kiss him back once more. Steve bets it’s because your girlish mind is trying to convince him (and yourself) that you’re a good kisser. He makes a mental note never to give you this reassurance – that way you’d just keep kissing him as if you had something to prove. Or at least that was the hope. Nevertheless, the kissing distracts you enough for him to still inside you (he’d only gotten less than a quarter of his huge dick in) and then he pulls out.

The third time he penetrates you, he does it with more force than ever before. And he bites your lip hard, grunting against you till he can taste your blood. That’s when he finally pushes more than halfway inside you, and he hears something rip from within. And you scream, you scream so fucking loudly and straight into his mouth, but he continues to kiss you, basking in the feeling of being inside you properly now. His dick feels so constricted inside your tight walls, but it’s the best feeling he’s ever felt.

He breaks the kiss to look down into your eyes, and savour your reaction to being impaled by him, to being filled up by only half his length. But your head lolls to the side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You’ve passed out.

“What a fucking baby,” Steve hisses, shallowly thrusting in and out of you. “Can’t even take daddy’s dick inside this tight little snatch of yours without passing out, can you?” Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to pull out, he’s so obsessed with how good your pulsating pussy feels around his dick. But he knows he needs to draw back so he can thrust back in even deeper. He’s only got half his dick inside you now, but he’s determined to get in balls deep before the night is over.

“Wake the fuck up!” he commands, wanting you alert as he defiles you. He slaps your cheek lightly several times, to no avail. He sighs, reaching for the glass of water on his side table. He dips his fingers into the liquid before sprinkling the water over your face. He slaps your cheek again, harder this time, and it turns him on when he hits you, taps into his darkest, most masochistic desires that he keeps under wraps from even himself.

It's only when he pulls out and slams back into you that you suddenly rouse, and it takes you a nanosecond to start screaming again, panicking and flailing underneath him once more. But he’s not having it this time, and quickly plasters his palm over your mouth to silence you.

“Tell me... how does daddy’s dick feel?” He asks you darkly, and he can sense the sadistic smile on his face fuelled by the sheer power he has over you right now. “And I’ll backhand the fuck out of you if you start screaming again, so don’t even try it.”

He removes his hand from your mouth and focuses on pushing more into you, and you pant underneath him, silently sobbing and cringing in pain. And yet you swallow and look up at him bravely.

“I-It hurts!”

“Address me properly.”

“C-Captain, it hurts!”

He narrows his eyes, “No. I asked you how does daddy’s dick feel?”

Your jaw drops open, and it looks like you’ve momentarily forgotten that he’s currently trying to impale you with his huge dick. Your face has the audacity to look mortified, and he wonders how innocent you truly are.

“I can’t… I can’t call you… That’s wrong!” you sputter, looking almost – dare Steve think it – cute. With your wide eyes and indignant gaze and delicious pouty lips in the shape of an o. You seem to blurt out your next words without even thinking: “Y-You’re not my dad!”

Steve barks out a laugh before he can stop himself, but he straightens his face almost immediately, reaching up to grip your chin harshly between his thumb and forefinger. Faced with your horror-struck reaction to calling him daddy, he now wants you to address him as that and nothing else.

“Listen, sweetheart. You may have noticed by now that you don’t get much of a say in what happens to you tonight,” he licks up your jawline before his lips brush against your mouth, and he speaks in a whisper, “Now answer my question. And address me properly. Or else.”

You look mortified, scrunching your eyes shut as you breath rapidly in and out. “It… It hurts…daddy.”

Steve feels like he’ll bust a nut right there and then. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more turned on. You’re so small and shy, so tiny and naïve and scared like a baby, and now you’re calling him daddy in that sexy, shaky voice of yours. Goddamn, what a sexy little slut you were. And he’d take care of you tonight, just like any daddy would. Oh… damn right he’d be your daddy tonight. God fucking dammit, you were such a little slut for calling him that!

With a renewed, carnal type of lust, Steve grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders. You yelp as he folds you in half like a goddamned pretzel. And the juxtaposition, the visual of your naked body underneath him still in his bloodied suit from the mission – God, it turns him on so much. He presses another kiss to your lips, guiding you into making out with him, wanting you to get obsessed with the idea of kissing him. And then he pulls away, and looks you right in the eye.

“Now you can scream.”

“Huh?”

He slams into you so fucking hard, he’s sure you see stars. And if you were screaming loudly before, it’s nothing compared to now. His entire floor is sound-proofed, but he’s sure the people above and below can hear you. He’s pushed himself far deeper into you, so deep that he senses something rip inside you again. And you’re crying, your little fists pounding against his chest, and yet Steve grits his teeth and mutters, “take it, just fucking take it,” pushing into you bit by bit, inch by inch, so determined to finally get his cock all the way inside you. Pulling out a bit, then pushing in some more while your tight walls try to push him out but he’s so much fucking stronger than you.

A deep rumble emanates past his lips when he finally – fucking finally – bottoms out inside you, and he leans down to press his forehead over yours so he can savour the moment. You were his, completely, irrevocably, undeniably his. You whimper and cry underneath him but it’s music to his ears, your sweet reaction to him popping your cherry, completely snatching away your virginity and possessing it as his forever. He looks down to where you two meet, sees your pussy stretched out completely around his girthy dick, and it makes him want to spontaneously combust.

“You’re mine.” Steve breathes against your lips, and for the second time tonight, the image of you as his little bride flits through his mind. Yes, you’d make a very fitting bride for him. Small and submissive and innocent. And he’d never taken marriage seriously before now but… well, how could he give you up? When he’d taken your virginity and made you his? How could he possibly send you back to wherever you’d come from? The mere thought fills him with vitriolic rage. No. You were to stay with Steve, and you’d be his bride. His wife. His. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You don’t argue this time, or even hesitate. He knows he’s broken you when you look up at him, dazed expression on your face. “I’m – I’m yours, daddy.”

Fuck. And you’d gone and called him daddy again without him even having to prompt you. Yes. That more than sealed your fate. You would be his now. His girl. His wife. He’d keep you locked up in his room forever, the same reward that he’d look forward to coming home to after every mission.

“How does it feel to have your baby pussy split open on my cock, sweetheart?” He presses kisses down the nape of your neck, excitement rippling through him at his impulsive decision to make you his wife. The thrill of finding a bride as cute as you makes him want to kiss you even more, and he nips at your neck before reaching your lips, pecking them once, twice, three times. All while you look up at him with glassy, wet eyes and a pitiful expression mixed with something else.

“Please,” you breathe quietly against his lips, and with sapped energy you manage to grab a fistful of his suit, pulling it to get his attention, “Please, make it hurt less. Please.”

Steve smirks, pulling out of you and preparing to slam back in. But he grows distracted by the sight of his cock, completely coated scarlet with your blood. Your virgin blood. The pillow under your ass is stained with drops of dark crimson too, and he’s never seen anything like it. Fuck. He’d really done a number on you, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t even begun fucking you yet.

I deserve this, he thinks to himself.

He slams into you again, the gasp dying in your mouth when he grabs you by the chin and forces you to look down at where you two meet. Your eyes grow wider, your mouth dropping open as you shake your head in disbelief at the sight of your pussy so stretched out to accommodate his girth.

“What’re those conservative parents of yours gonna think when they find out their good little girl just got her pussy ripped apart by a man twice her age?”

You swallow and shake your head, “I–I…”

“Answer me!”

“They’d be d-d-disappointed!” You cry out, ripping your gaze away from the sight of his dick penetrating your formerly virgin pussy, instead looking up at him instead, your mouth looking so deliciously pouty.

Steve smiles wickedly, “It’s a good thing you’re not their little girl anymore, huh? You’re mine now, so their opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Th-They like you! They’re fans of you… They wouldn’t like this at all! OH MY GOD!” You gasp, and he has to hold you down to keep you from sliding upwards from the power of his thrusts. You cry out once more, “W-Was supposed to – ah! – wait till I was married…”

The mention of marriage has Steve imagining you as his little bride once more. He already owned your body, mind and soul – but the marriage certificate would make sure he owned you under the eyes of the law too. His kept woman you’d be, fluttering around his apartment like a bird in a gilded cage. Or maybe he’d move you into one of the suburban properties he owned, where he could come home to you and relieve all his tension and worries. Yes. It would be perfect. He’d make all the arrangements tomorrow…

For now, he focuses back on fucking you silly. Pulling out all the way, he rams his dick straight back into your cunt, and you let out a sound that’s a mix between a squeak and a moan. He looks down at you curiously.

“You like that? You like daddy’s big dick?” He grabs your hands, squeezing them tightly.

“T-Too big!” Your eyes flutter shut as if you’re about to pass out again. “C-Captain, please slow down! H-Hurts so bad!”

Steve bristles. Hadn’t he explicitly told you to call him daddy? After all, he’d be your daddy now. You wouldn’t be your father’s property after tonight. No, you were Steve’s. He was your daddy, and he’d take care of you because you’d soon become his bride. But he wouldn’t have an insolent, insubordinate wife who couldn’t take instructions well. That wouldn’t do at all.

He grunts, letting go of your hands and wrapping his fingers around your throat instead. You squeal in protest but it lands on deaf ears. His other hand presses down over your mouth once more.

“Shut up!” He snaps, “Stop squealing like a little bitch. It hurts but you’re just going to have to take it. And you better start calling me daddy, or else I’ll drag you back downstairs and fuck you in front of everyone.” He only means it as a threat, but he knows by the way your breath hitches that you’re innocent enough to believe him.

He removes his hand from your lips and taps you roughly on your cheek, “Tell me you understand.”

You nod, receiving a harder tap on your cheek and a menacing look.

“I-I understand, daddy, I – oh – oh my!”

He thrusts into you with such force, he knows you’re seeing stars. And it’s subtle, but Steve catches it. He catches the shift in your expression, this unfamiliar spark in your eye as if you don’t know what’s happening with your body. But Steve knows. Your body is finally starting to respond to his cruel ministrations – just like he knew you would. You were an innocent little baby but you were also a horny little slut who was enjoying getting fucked by a man like him.

“It’s starting to feel good, huh?” Steve whispers against your lips, imagining the different ways he’d take you for the rest of the night. Of course, you’d probably pass out again once he was done with this first round. But after that? Maybe he’d put you on top of him, bounce you up and down on his cock and get in even deeper that way. Or he’d make you suck his cock, or maybe he’d manhandle you till you were on his face, rubbing that sweet, gorgeous little baby cunt on his –

“I-I don’t understand!” You cry, and he feels you wiggle your hips subtly as if you’re trying to do it without him noticing, “Feels…feels…oh, oh god!” With abandon, your head lolls back and you rut your hips up against his dick, meeting his thrusts. Steve chuckles, a satisfied feeling spreading across his chest.

“All that crying and screaming, just for you to enjoy getting fucked by me,” Steve murmurs, brushing your hair off your face so he can gauge your expression better. You look so pitiful, biting your lip and looking up at him with wet eyes, humping up against his dick and your eyes reflecting the confusion you felt. “But don’t worry, all little girls like you love getting fucked by their daddy. It’s only natural, sweetheart.”

“D-Daddy, please,” you pant, and now your hands come up to grip a fistful of his suit, and he knows that you don’t even understand the pleasure you’re slowly starting to feel. And you’re gripping his cock so tight as he rams in and out of you, building up a steady pace now. He knows he’s found your g-spot and he’s pounding against it, but you have no fucking clue and it’s the hottest fucking thing ever.

“Look at you, humping your baby pussy up against daddy’s dick,” Steve shakes his head as if he’s reprimanding you. He spits down on your face, wanting you even messier. His hand leaves your throat as he shoves two of his fingers past your lips, spreading them open and spitting again. His saliva lands on your tongue, “Swallow it, you nasty fucking slut. I knew I’d make you my little slut before the night was through. I said fucking swallow it. That’s right. Good girl.”

“Ah, ah, ah– tingles… I – daddy! P-Please, I don’t know what’s – AH!”

 Your breathless moans and nonsensical garbles are like music to his ears, but nothing compares to the way you clamp down on his cock when you suddenly squirt around it. The way you squeak and clutch him tightly, and he fucks you through your orgasm. Your very first orgasm while getting fucked, and it’s so fucking sexy the way your tight walls flutter around him. God, he could get used to this feeling – buried deep inside your wet, tight snatch every single night from here on out.

“Did daddy make you feel good?” He breathes, hips moving like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your pussy as he continues to fuck you.

You nod timidly, wiped out from your orgasm to say anything else. He smirks, watching your breasts bounce up and down as he fucks the living daylights out of you and you just lie there beneath him and take it. As if a part of you had understood that this was to be your job from here on out – his little fuckdoll, his little prize after God knows how many listless years of saving the world, saving people who he didn’t give a flying fuck about.

He’d won countless medals of honour, rewarding him for his bravery in serving his country, in saving his people. But you were his true prize, with your tight cunt that was his and his only. And how jealous every other man would be! He knew they already envied his physique, his fame, his authority. Now all those assholes would have another reason to envy him – because his little bride was the most innocent, most vulnerable, most beautiful girl they’d ever lay their eyes on. And it would be his bed in which you’d be, night after night, waiting with spread legs for him to fuck you.

Of course, he’d fuck other women if he so wanted to. Steve didn’t believe in love or monogamy. He believed in ownership, though. And he owned you, every part of you from your cunt to your soul. You wouldn’t even look at another man ever again, or else Steve would have you killed. And the thought of you with another man is what incenses him even more.

With a low growl, he pulls out of you. Your eyes shoot open, your mouth pausing mid-moan to look up at him desperately. Your cunt shamelessly humps the air, and he can’t believe what a little harlot you’ve turned into after your first taste of sex. He looks down at his blood-covered dick, grabbing it by the base. He lays his fat cock on your stomach, painting your smooth skin scarlet with your own virginal blood. The sight turns him on even more, and with another growl, he puts your legs down and flips you over on your stomach.

He grabs your ankle, dragging you to the foot of the bed while you squeak in protest and confusion. He gets off the bed, standing up to his full height as you cower beneath him, looking back at him over your shoulder warily, a trail of blood on the sheets from where he’d dragged you.

“Hands and knees,” he orders, “and don’t fucking make me repeat myself.”

This time, you do obey pretty quickly. Mustering up whatever energy you have left, you shakily get on your hands and knees. He grabs your hips just in time, keeping you upright before your body has a chance to collapse. Your legs are shaking and he knows your body can’t take much more. He doesn’t care, because he owns your body and you’ll take what he gives you.

“Nice ass,” he smirks, squeezing and kneading your ass cheeks liberally before giving your ass a hard smack that has your knees buckling. He hoists you back up by your hips, “Thank me for the compliment, sweetheart.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You answer almost at once, and Steve grins wolfishly. He’s broken you. He bets you’d do just about anything to please him now. He bets you’ve forgotten about your life back home, and all your tiny mind can think about now is your daddy and his big cock.

With a grunt, Steve pistons his fat cock inside you once more. And god, from this angle, with your gorgeous, perky ass right in his fucking face, he feels like he’s going to blow his load any second. You start moaning again, rocking your hips backwards, garbling “please” and “daddy” and other nonsense. Your ass bounces with each thrust, and Steve can’t help but slap it brutally hard, over and over again, wanting you even more bruised and bloody than you already are right now.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he asks, slapping and pinching your ass while he watches his dick disappear inside your sexy cunt over and over again, “you tried to act all innocent and cute, telling me you had fucking homework to do tonight, fuck!” He lifts your hips up off the bed to get a better angle, till he’s holding your entire lower body up in the air.  It gives him better leverage, since he’s so tall, and he fucks you on his dick like you were nothing more than a fleshlight.

“I – ah, daddy! – I d-do have h-h-homework – OH MY GOD!”

It just gets Steve even harder, hearing you be so innocent despite being held up and fucked like a dog. You’ve got your elbows propped on the mattress to keep you up, your legs flailing helplessly as he holds your hips in the air, ramming you repeatedly with his fat cock till he knows you’re seeing stars.

“Forget about your fucking homework from now on,” he spits out, grabbing your ass lewdly and jiggling it, fascinated by how it bounces so cutely. “There’s no way I’m letting you go back to that college of yours.”

“Wh-What?”

He doesn’t answer, and the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping against skin, the carnal sound of Steve staking his claim on you. With all his other rewards, he’d be done in about fifteen minutes. You, he’d have you all night if he could. Well, he can – he’s built like a fucking tank with stamina for days. You, on the other hand, keep looking like you’re going to pass out and he’s pretty sure he’s done some type of damage to your pussy. He’d have SHIELD’s physician check you tomorrow.

He throws you back down on the bed, not giving you a chance to even catch your breath before he’s on top of you, flipping you on your back and urgently pressing his lips to yours. Much to his smugness, this time you respond as if it’s muscle memory, kissing him back as best as you can. And for a person who’s just learnt how to kiss, you sure were extremely desperate for it. You keep kissing him even when he enters back into you for the third time, fucking you on your back and this time you wrap your arms and legs around him like a goddamned koala bear, your kisses growing more fervent till Steve pulls away and chuckles against your lips.

“You like kissing me?” He finds himself asking you, holding you in place beneath him as he fucks you hard, but his one hand comes up to grip your chin so you don’t look away, “be honest, baby. You like kissing daddy?”

Your eyes widen in fear at the direct question, and he watches the panic on your face. But then your features contort in pleasure as he repeatedly hits that spot deep inside you, and you nod desperately, surging up to kiss him again but he pushes you back down.

“Use your words.”

“Ah, y-yes, I do, okay!? I like it! P-Please!”

You start doing that thing again, humping pathetically up into him as if to meet his thrusts. And he wonders if you realise how easy he’s truly going on you. He reckons he’s using about five percent of his power right now as he rams into you repeatedly. Any more than that and he’s sure he’d shatter your pelvis or cause permanent damage.

“Kiss me, then.” Steve says, not knowing why he sounds so gentle. He probably had something stuck in his throat, but he doesn’t dwell over it because, like a good little girl, you obey him. Your needy lips, your desperate tongue poking against his in a perfect kiss. He groans into your mouth, his thrusts going sloppy as your cunt squeezes around him because you’re so turned on by him kissing you.

“Am I… A-Am I doing this right, daddy?” You breathe, batting those fucking sexy, innocent eyes up at him.

Steve smirks, “You’re fine.”

You’re more than fine, of course – but he doesn’t need you knowing that. He needs you to be as insecure as possible. It made you even hotter, the look of self-doubt that you have on your face right now. He’s violated your body, he’s still violating your body, and yet all you seem to be focusing on is the fact that he thinks your kissing is “fine.” Not good, not great… but fine.

You kiss him once more, even more desperately this time, as if you’re trying to prove something. Steve relishes how easy it is to play with your mind, how naïve you are. How much he’ll enjoy playing with you when he makes you his wife. He continues pistoning his dick inside you as he lets his mind wander.

All the others would be so fucking jealous of him – even Bucky, who had a girl already but Bucky’s girl was nothing compared to you. He’d drag you around the whole building, the whole headquarters, the whole compound, showing you off like a shiny, new toy. That’s what you were – his very own toy.

He’d take you into meetings with him, make you sit on his lap and play with you in front of everyone. And he’d chop the dick off of anyone who looked at you in a way he didn’t like. He’d make you wear pretty dresses, make you look like a cute little housewife, train you to answer his every command. Fuck yeah, you’d be his reward. He deserved you, after all he had sacrificed for his country, for the world.

“D-Daddy, I’m feelin- tingly again!” you moan, your words shaky from how hard he’s fucking into you. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist and in return he clutches you harder, determined to make you squirt again before he had his own release.

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?”

“D-Daddy – nngh…ah, I–I–”

He swats your clit harshly, making you howl in what he knows is pleasure. His dick hammers in and out of you unforgivingly, and you’re such a fucking slut, humping up against him, crying for your release. And it’s such a far cry from how much you were resisting him at first, he can’t believe what a little slut he’s reduced you to in such little time.

“Stupid girl, can’t even talk anymore, can you?” he mocks, pinching your clit meanly, bullying it as he rubs it fiercely. Till you’re thrashing underneath him, so desperate to cum that you don’t even care that your body is betraying you. “Tell me you’re a stupid little girl!”

“Oh fuck! I’m a – a – a stupid little girl!”

He can see the remnants of your tears stained to your cheeks, and he feels a carnal level of possession within him. With a growl, he lewdly licks the side of your face, claiming his territory, tasting your salty tears. Roughly, he tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side and biting down on your neck. So hard that he draws blood, and then he licks that up too. God, what a little slut you were – a slut disguised as an angel and you were making him act like a motherfucking animal.

And now the side of your neck sported his bite mark, your porcelain perfect skin marred by his branding of you. And this was just the beginning – Steve already knows that he plans to mark you in many different ways. Tomorrow, he’d get one of the agents to bring over a tattoo artist to tattoo his initials somewhere on your body. Maybe right above your baby cunt, just so you would always remember who you belonged to. He smirks, and wonders what your conservative parents would think of that.

“What would your parents think now, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing one of your legs and hoisting it over his shoulder for a better angle. And you’re so pliable, so easily going along with whatever he’s doing to you like a perfect little doll. “What would they think of their perfect little girl getting fucked by Captain America like it’s her fucking job?”

You panic, as if the mention of your parents is a reminder of how wrong this all is for you – not that Steve gives a fuck. Biting your lip to keep from moaning at all the sensations you’re feeling, you shake your head. Only for him to slap you not so lightly on the cheek.

“Answer me, baby girl.”

“They’d – ah – they’d hate this, they’d be upset, they’d – OH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!” You scream out all of a sudden, your pussy walls gripping him like a vice, “O-Oh, I’m feelin– I gotta–”

“Hold it.” Steve hisses warningly.

But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. Babies like you couldn’t hold orgasms for shit. And you cum, crying for him and gripping him tightly, and Steve feels like he’s going to lose it with how sexy it feels. It feels like your cunt is trying to swallow him up, crying for his seed as it pulsates around his fat cock that continues to move in and out.

“Bad girl,” Steve chastises, giving you another not-so-gentle slap on the cheek because you look like you’re about to faint again. He jostles you with the forces of his dick, still ramming in and out of you at lightning speed. “You do things without permission a lot at home?”

You have the audacity to, despite everything, look indignant: “N-No, never, I never–”

“Then what made you think you could cum without your daddy’s permission?”

Your lips purse as if you’re about to cry, and you blink up at him so goddamned innocent. Steve’s honestly surprised he’s still going, surprised he hasn’t busted a fucking nut with how goddamned cute and sexy you are.

“I’m…I’m sorry, I couldn’t – ah! – I had to, I–I–”

“Give me another one,” he orders you darkly.

“Wh-What–”

“You heard me. Cum for daddy again. Since you like doing it so much.”

Frantically, you shake your head, “C-Can’t! Too much, daddy, it’s too much– O-O-HHH GOD!”

He reaches down to strum your clit before a dark thought crosses his mind. His fingers slip lower, gathering the wetness of your pussy along the way. Lower, between the cleft of your ass cheeks. He can’t resist giving one of your perky cheeks a hard smack, before going straight for your puckered hole. He circles it with his thumb and your body stiffens in shock and horror.

“N-No, daddy, no please, that’s wrong, that’s–”

Steve shoves his finger in your tight, virgin asshole. He hadn’t been planning on defiling that third hole tonight, but oh well. And it’s even tighter than your pussy, and you clench against his digit like a fucking whore because he knows you like it. You like your daddy’s finger up there. His fucked up little wife-to-be… God, you were so perfect for him.

 With his fat cock, Steve fucks your pussy and at the same time, his huge finger fucks your tiny ass. Pumping in and out of your tiny hole while you cry and yet once more you slowly begin humping up against him. As if the depravity of it all turned you on even more – which he knew it did.

Your hand tugs at his bicep, making him shift his gaze back up to you.

“It’s happening again, daddy, it’s– d-don’t stop, I–”

Steve licks his lips, “Say you’ll marry me.”

Your eyes widen the most they have all night, “Wh-What?!”

“Say it!” He orders, “Say it or else I’ll fucking stop and leave you hanging. Say you’ll marry me, be my wife and do whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”

“N-No, I–”

He stills his hips, only for you to shake your head and grip his arm harder in desperation, humping up against him hopelessly.

“Say it. Say you’re daddy’s little bride. Fucking say it.”

“I-I’m daddy’s little bride, okay? I’ll do it, daddy, I’ll marry you, I – OH FUCK, PLEASE – I’ll do whatever you say, I, just please, I–” You’ve lost it, completely lost it as new tears swell from your eyes and you beg him as if you have no shame at all. And Steve feels all the pride and smugness in the world as he resumes fucking you, knowing he won’t last any longer after this carnal display of submission from you.

“Cum.” He orders you, “right now, sweetheart, do what I say and cum for daddy.”

You squirt so violently around his cock, that your whole body shakes and shudders, you’re so overwhelmed by pleasure. Toes curled and tears streaking your face, you hold him so tightly that he’s surprised by your strength, and you keep moaning his name, you keep moaning “daddy” over and over again as if he got his agents to reprogramme your brain and it’s all you know how to say now.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he mutters lowly, “squeeze that pretty little princess cunt around daddy’s dick. You’re such a good fucking girl.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy,” your meek response, barely audible by how quietly you say it, is not something he expected, and it goes straight to his dick. Not you, not his little bride, thanking him for deflowering you in the most brutal way possible? Fuck, he’d broken you. You’d be licking the palm of his hand by tomorrow; he just knew it.

The thought makes him shudder, his dick twitches and then he unloads inside you. Spurt after spurt unloaded straight into your pussy, and it’s such a satisfying feeling, pumping you full of his seed. Filling you the fuck up, and he’s glad he didn’t use the fucking condom. And there’s so much of his cum, because of the serum of course, so much that it doesn’t even fit inside you. It pours out of you and you watch with wide eyes before letting out a soft cry.

“I’m not… I’m not protected, I don’t take birth control, I–I…” Your voice trails off, too weak to voice any more protestations as Steve continues to empty himself inside you, your words having no effect on him whatsoever.

“Good. You’d be lucky to carry my child.” Steve informs you, his cock already thickening again at the thought of him knocking you up. He’d never had an interest in having children before now, but fucking a whole family into you seems like the hottest fucking thing he could do right now. Captain America: the family man. It made sense for his image.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and he remains inside you, till he’s finally emptied out and your poor, raw pussy is overflowing with his cum. But he stays on top of you, propped up on his elbows as he watches you underneath him. Your chest rising and falling as you breathe, and you’re so pretty, and he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again. Once, twice, three times. He frowns when you don’t kiss him back, drawing back to take another look at you.

Your eyes have fluttered shut. Your body couldn’t take it. You’ve passed out once more.

Steve smirks, feeling himself hardening up again inside you. He had absolutely no qualms with fucking you back to consciousness again.

***

It’s gone past midnight when Steve hears a knock on his door. He calls for them to come in, and two SHIELD agents appear in his doorway. The same two who always come to take away his rewards after he’s done with them.

The female agent’s jaw twitches at the sight. Steve on the bed, having changed and washed up with a quick shower. And you’re next to him, passed out on the bloodied sheets. Steve reckons you look beautiful, like you’re sleeping.

“Would you like for us to take her away, Captain?” The male agent asks.

“No. She will stay with me. Contact her family and let them know, make them pack a bag for her and make sure it arrives here by tomorrow.”

The male agent nods, but the female – it’s always the damned females, Steve scorns – she hesitates.

“Captain, she looks like she’s in bad shape. Maybe–”

“That will be all.” Steve interrupts, “you can leave now.”

They do, and Steve turns his attentions back to you – his little girl, as you begin to stir.

“Shhh,” he orders, when you open your mouth to speak. Your eyes look bleary, you look confused, wondering whether all this was a dream or not. Steve’s in no mood to indulge you, and yet he presses his thumb past your lips. And fuck, it goes straight to his dick when you readily accept it, sucking his thumb like a baby as you blink up at him.

His beautiful, broken little bride.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve tells you, “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day for us. You need all the rest you can get.”

Yes, tomorrow. When he’d parade you around his teammates as Captain America’s little bride. It would be perfect. His forever reward.

Tony had his alcohol, Sam had his parties, Bruce had his research and Bucky had some girl. But Steve? Steve had drawn the best cards out of all of them. Because he had you. Your submission, your devotion. You.

He deserved this.

AKFSLA THE END!! Steve's inner monologue was unhinged af. I know! Please, please let me know what you think!!! It would mean the world, please do reblog and leave feedback!!! I have been writing this for around two weeks and would love to know what you think!!! As usual, thanks so much for reading my work and supporting me!!! I love you guys!! SORRY IF IT SUCKED ASDAGNL.

ALSO please forgive me if i got anything wrong about shield or hydra or any of that. like i literally am not an expert asnglagl okaybye!!!

[kaysungshine]

Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say. 

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

[harryspet]

well kept [4] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON/NONCON, corporal punishment, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: longest chapter yayyyy :):)

word count: 4.9k

In which Rafe's control pushes you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond.

well kept masterlist

Rafe Cameron could handle his liquor, you learned that quickly. After accompanying him to a few dinner parties and watching him down several shots of whiskey before finishing an entire pitcher of beer, you wondered how he maintained his physique. He never slurred his words or stumbled, he seemed entirely happier when he was drinking, a completely different person. 

He’d forced you to drink a cocktail and that quickly made you feel wobbly. The nights were a blur of conversations and you were tethered to reality by the feeling of Rafe’s hand on your lower back. He never introduced you as his assistant to his rich friends. You were just Y/N. “She’s cute, yeah?” He would say to people. Usually your dress was way too short or your cleavage was spilling from your top.  Unfortunately, you sipped your drink when you were nervous.

You were exhausted by the end of the night and a little tipsy though you hadn’t dared to drink nearly as much as he did. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home,” He’d said, hand on your waist as he guided you out of the restaurant. Sometimes it made you feel protected. Like Rafe could hurt you, sure, but at least no one else could. 

“Should you be driving?” You’d mistakenly asked, words slipping out before you could stop them. He took it as a challenge to his manhood and the look on his face made you regret it. 

“I’m fine,” He’d looked at you sharply before he commanded, “Get in the fucking car.”

You didn’t hesitate any longer and let him him help you into the passenger side of his truck. He kept his eyes focused on the road, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, and you hoped he wasn’t angry, maybe just deep in thought. 

When he pulled up to your apartment complex, you fumbled for the door handle, eager to escape the tension. But before you could step out, Rafe’s hand was on your arm.

“I’m coming up,” he stated firmly.

“It’s a weeknight,” you said, trying to find a reason that would convince him otherwise. “My roommates are probably asleep by now.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “I’ll be quiet,” a hint of his boozed up charm returned to his voice. Reluctantly, you led him upstairs.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find your roommates, Imani and Angel, still awake, standing in the kitchen with a bottle of wine between them. Their laughter filled the small apartment. Their expressions shifted to complete shock at the sight of Rafe behind you. You smiled, trying to give the impression that all was well, that it was completely normal to be returning to your apartment with your drunk, billionaire boss. 

Imani, with her flawless olive complexion and neatly styled curls, scrutinized the scene with furrowed brows. Beside her, Angel stood tall and vibrant, her unruly tight curls escaping their single hair tie, her mouth agape in astonished silence as she stared at you. Both much more beautiful than you, a sad thought crossed your mind, and you worried for a short millisecond that Rafe would realize he’d made a mistake in picking you. 

“Hey,” You did you best to sound casual, “Rafe, this is Imani and Angel. Imani, Angel, this is Rafe.”

“Your boss, Rafe?” Imani asked incredulousy, her arms crossing over her faded band tee. “I don’t understand-”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” Angel blurted out, practically bouncing on her bare feet, “Can I offer you a drink? We both had a shitty day so we whipped out the strawberry moscato.”

“It’s nice to meet you guys. And thanks, tempting offer but I’m quite satisfied at the moment,” His voice was smooth and effortlessly disarming. He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you into him, and your eyes widened, “I’m just here to make sure Y/N gets a good night’s rest.”

Both Imani and Angel looked at you with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Imani’s eyes, in particular, were sharp and disapproving, clearly questioning how you had kept this from her. Her gaze was heavy with the unspoken question: How could you be involved with Rafe and not have told her?

“Make yourself at home,” Angel said, clearly more excited than angry, and Imani’s intense gaze snapped to her, “I’m about to make popcorn and we’re about to watch a movie if you guys-”

“Angel,” Imani whispered harshly, “Leave them alone.”

“I’m j-j-just gonna, uhm, goodnight, guys,” You took Rafe’s arm and led him away from the tension filled kitchen to the narrow hallway that led to your bedroom. You felt he weight of Imani’s disapproval lingering in the air. 

Your small apartment that you shared with two other people was a stark contrast to the luxurious settings you’d been in over the last few weeks. As Rafe’s eyes wandered over your tiny room, the awkwardness of the situation continued to build. 

“This is …cozy,” He said after you shut the door. He was already taking off his suit jacket and undoing his cuff links. Was Rafe Cameron really going to spend the night here with you? Maybe he was drunker than you thought.  “So this is where you unwind after a long day of dealing with me?” 

Was that humor you heard in his voice? Dealing with him. You more than dealt with Rafe Cameron. You practically let him walk you around on a leash. 

“Do you feel bad for me yet?” You tried to joke but there was too much animosity in your tone. 

He chuckled before starting to undo his belt, “I try not to feel bad for other people. Life’s easier that way. Sides’, this won’t be your life for much longer.”

As he stripped down to his underwear, he started to settle into your bed, the lines between your professional and personal worlds now blurrier than ever. 

“I wasn’t expecting t-t-t-t … to have company tonight,” You said, gathering his pile of clothes from your carpet and doing your best to fold them and place them neatly on top of your dresser. 

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” He winked as he folded his arms behind his head, and you had to avert your eyes from his statue-esque physique. Broad shoulders, thick arms and chest, and abs that acted like an arrow that pointed down to his … “Plus, I wanted to see where you lived.”

“Now you see I d-d-don’t have sss-space for all my new work outfits,” You started to undress now, realizing there was no way out of this long night except by sleeping. You kicked off your heels, placing them neatly at the bottom of your closet. You put an oversized t-shirt on and used it to cover your body as you slipped off your mini-dress. 

“Yeah, I see that now. It’s like a shoebox in here,” You shot him an offended look and he smiled stupidly, “It’s cute.”

“You sss-say that word a lot,” You mumbled before finding a pair of fuzzy socks and taking a seat at the very edge of your bed, bending over to slip them on. 

“C’mere,” he patted the spot next to him and you hesitated. 

He wouldn’t, you thought, not while your roommates were on the other side of a paper thin wall. But he would, you remember, Rafe Cameron would do that. He already had the gall to walk into your apartment with his hand on your waist despite being the one who paid your salary. He would do it and you’d let him because you had no spine. 

“Y/N?” You pinched your eyes shut for a brief moment before you inevitable crawled into the spot next to him. You’d never really laid next to him in bed and it wasn’t what you were expecting. Even on his side, laying down, his presence enveloped you. You felt small like you usually did. He easily pressed himself to you, impossibly strong arms pulling your fronts together. 

“You hhh-have to be quiet,” You whispered. 

“I’m not the loud one,” He chuckled, warm breath tickling your shoulder and making you shiver. He placed a kiss there, one arm wrapped around your back and pulling you closer while the other tickled over the skin on your bare thigh, “I could fuck you so slow, so gentle, and I’m sure you’d be screaming.”

“No,” You argued though you weren’t sure why. 

“No? You think you could stay quiet?” A excruciatingly soft and wet kiss was placed on your collarbone. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, “I’m sss-sserious, Rafe.”

“So informal,” He shook his head, the hand that was on your thigh started to peel up your shirt. To your surprise, Rafe ducked inside the fabric of your shirt, beginning to burrow his head into your breast, “My fucking favorite place on your cute, little body.”

He seemed to groan, something animalistic, placing kisses along your skin. His breath tickled your nipples and you tried to pull away. He flips you fully onto your back, pinning you with his weight, his mouth threatening to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You couldn’t take it, “Okay, okay, y-yess,” You rushed out, “I c-couldn’t stay quiet. You’re right.”

You look down to watch him pop his head out from under your shirt, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” You nodded, “I-I admit it. Please.”

“Please stop? Please fuck you quietly?” Rafe teased you, “You’re not adding sir to the end of your sentences so it gets kinda hard to understand–”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” You pleaded with him through your eyes, “Please …fuck me quietly, Sir.”

“That’s better,” He pulled your shirt over your breasts before he completely devoured them. 

The next time Rafe decided to have sex with you was two weeks later, right as he walked into his office. You should’ve known by the outfit he had chosen for you. The white blouse had an air of professionalism, but the plaid, pleated skirt barely reached mid-thigh, making you certain the entire elevator caught a glimpse of your underwear when you dropped your notebook that morning.

It felt like he’d been teasing you up until that point. You'd lost track of how many times he made you orgasm in front of him during those two weeks. He had an insatiable fascination with watching you pleasure yourself, wanting you completely vulnerable, often in compromising positions, with your eyes locked on his the moment it happened. Whether it was on top of his desk, against the office window, or bent over a coffee table, you were starting to grow comfortable with being uncomfortable.

He couldn’t resist touching you, making you grind against him, or rapidly moving his fingers in and out of you until you were shaking. However, he had managed up until that point to not actually fuck you. It was getting to the point you found yourself pouting at him from your desk as you watched him complete his daily meetings. 

You didn’t have a chance to get out your usual spiel about his meetings for the day because his briefcase was already on the ground, and his arms were wrapped around your backside as he carried you over to his desk, “Take off your panties,” He commanded after setting you on his desk. He stepped back, fumbling with his belt and zipper, “Now, sweetheart. C’mon.” He said and you realized you clearly weren’t moving fast enough for him. 

Your panties weren’t even around your knees before he was lifting up your legs and pulling them off the rest of the way. He parted your legs, immediately dipping his fingers into you, “You’re already wet,” It was just an observance. No smile or smirk or evidence that he was at all pleased with the revelation, “Desperate little girl. You been thinking about me, yeah?”

You stared up at his lips, pink and parted and imagined them on yours, his soft stubble tickling the skin of your mouth. Why wasn’t he kissing you? Everything with him was a ritual. You couldn’t get what you wanted until you felt utterly humiliated and vulnerable. He couldn’t get what he wanted until you had tears in your eyes. You nodded, “Yes.”

“Fucking say it,” He barked and you winced. 

“I’ve b-b-been th-thhhinking about you,” You admitted although he already knew it. Your own well being seemed to rely on being obsessed with him. If you wanted any sexual satisfaction, he was the one who brought it. He was the entire reason you had a good income now. He was everything. 

“You haven’t touched yourself though, not without my permission?”

You nodded, “Nnn-not without your permission.”

“Cause you need me,” He finally placed his lips on yours and you nodded against them. 

“I nnn-need you,” You mewled between kisses as he pressed his crotch into yours. The two of you both tilted back towards his desk, “Please, Sir.”

You had consented, despite not being fully prepared. It didn’t feel like the first or second time. The first time had been overwhelming, your orgasms crashing over you like a storm, while the second time had been so gentle that the pleasure left you feeling like you were vibrating with ecstasy. You wanted him, undeniably, but nothing had prepared you for the intensity of him filling you completely. This was what you had desirel, feeling full, but now you were overwhelmed, as though he was consuming every part of you.

With his hands braced on either side of your head, he looked down at you, his gaze intense and focused. He moved inside you with a relentless, unyielding rhythm, driving into you with an insatiable need.

The room faded away around you. You couldn’t feel yourself breathing nor could you hear the sounds leaving your mind. You just stared back, your face a mix of anguish and pleasure, and accepted your fate. You didn’t fight your orgasm this time, your body moved instinctively, squeezing around him, your hips grinding up for more friction. 

When he was close, he pulled out of you. Your energy was already gone, your orgasm having taken almost everything from you, but he moved your body effortlessly. He pulled you off the desk before placing you on your knees in front of you. Your legs folded easily, weakly, “Fuck,” He cursed, pantting, and you watched him take his cock in his own hand. 

You reached out to take ahold of him but he pushed your hand away. His hands moved, determined, rhythmic, “Ask me to cum on your face.”

His breaths were heavy, desperate, and he clung to that control that had slipped away when he was inside you. 

“Will y-you cum on my face, Sir?” 

The question hung in the air, tension thickening, until he was finally gritting his teeth. He broke eye contact only as his orgasm ripped through him. The room filled with his moans and you did your best not overreact to that warm, sticky feeling that was now violating your senses. 

“Good girl, look at you,” He said and you squeezed your eyes tightly as it began to drip onto your eyelid. 

You breathed deeply, the intensity of the moment deciding to peak, and tears started to spill over. You became a crumpled pile of pleasure, shame and exhaustion. It seemed like the only way to release your emotions. Unexpectedly, you didn’t sit their alone. Rafe was the one to wipe your face with a tissue. He cooed, “Hey, you did good, kid. You’re a good girl,” He whispered sweet nothings to you. 

“C-C-Can you hold me?” You asked, voice trembling, so embarrassed that you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want to see how he was feeling or know what he was thinking. It was all too much.

Without a word, Rafe lifted you effortlessly into his arms. His strength was both reassuring and overwhelming as he carried you behind his desk, his body warm and solid against yours. He settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap with a sense of protective intimacy. For the rest of the morning, he worked with you nestled against him, your face buried into his neck. 

Rafe Cameron’s Appalachian cabin was one of the twelve properties he owned personally. You got to it by passing though a quaint and charming town. Despite the fact that he normally spends only three weekends of the entire year there, all the locals know him. 

The four of you; Rafe, you, Eleanor and Topper, made your way down main street which was lined with old-fashioned storefronts. In the middle was the town square which featured an old, courthouse building and a gazebo where you see a few locals gathering. The four of you enjoy a diner meal at the Blue Ridge Breakfast Bar before you walk through a few shops. It almost feels .. normal. You were surprised the three of them were even willing to walk through the antique buildings, let alone find the shops interesting. 

You didn’t know people like them even ate at diners or were interested in antique trinkets that cost less then five dollars. It was surreal. In another life, the three of them were normal people, and maybe you and Rafe could have been a normal couple. 

You often found yourself glancing at Rafe, marveling at the contrast between his usual, impeccably dressed self and the more relaxed look he wore today. Seeing him in jeans and a baseball cap, casually strolling through the town, was almost disorienting. 

It was a similar feeling you got when Rafe suddenly flipped a switch after being cruel to you and decided to comfort you. 

Despite the fact that he was technically on vacation, you were still his personal assistant, and yet he hadn’t asked you about anything related to assisting him since he picked you up that morning from your apartment. 

You wouldn’t say it to him, partially out of fear that he would deny it, but it felt like he wanted you appear like a couple. Topper and Eleanor undoubtedly new the truth so why was he acting like this? You never held hands like them but his hand would find your knee when you sat next to each other and sometimes he wrapped around your shoulder when you were standing close by. 

Sometimes, your body didn’t want to relax around him, and the intimacy brought you anxiety. Soemtimes he was easier to read when he was drunk, or inside of you, or yelling at you. You weren’t familiar with this version of him. But you were stuck with the three of them for the next three nights. 

Surrounded by towering pines and the soft hush of nature, the cabin was more of fortress nestled into the natural beauty of the mountains. You followed Rafe across a gravel path towards a large front porch which was framed by sturdy wooden columns. You stared up at large windows that endorned the front of the house, undoubtedly letting in a large amount of natural light, as you walked through the entrance. 

The house was a complete reflection of his taste and the extent of his success. As Topper and Rafe left for the bedroom to drop off luggage, you and Eleanor made your way to the kitchen with the bags of groceries you’d acquired from the local mini-mart. Surprisingly, this place didn’t come with it’s own personal chef. 

Like with everything else, you followed Eleanor’s lead when it came to cooking that weekend. She encouraged you to get ingredients for a dish you knew you could make on your own and you chose spaghetti despite the idea of feeding billionaire Rafe Cameron your homemade spaghetti making you feel stupid. 

“I’ll show you how to arrange a charcuterie board,” She said as she poured you a glass of red wine, “You’ll be the perfect housewife when I’m done with you, Y/N.”

The afternoon actually ended up being fun. You and Eleanor laughed in the kitchen while Rafe and Topper watched a football game in the living room, nursing cans of beer. The wine relaxed you and soon you were giggling over unevenly cut salami and spilled strawberry jam. The two of you ended up eating half the ingredients meant for the board, much to Eleanor’s amusement.

Eleanor loosened up even more, even getting comfortable enough to tell you a story about Topper, “You know, one time back when we lived in Kildare, he tried to make me pancakes for my birthday. From the box, not even from scratch, and he burnt every one. Literally every single one. The kitchen looked like it had been through a tornado. I don’t know how he even managed that.”

You covered your mouth, shaking your head, “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“He went through the whole box! He had to serve them to me like that. No amount of syrup and whip cream can mask that taste.”

“I didn’t realize we were telling personal stories,” You whipped your head around as you heard Topper’s voice. Your heart raced for a second, worried, but he made his way around the kitchen island and hugged his wife from behind. Rafe was following behind him but made his way over to you. You composed yourself as much as possible. 

“I was telling Y/N about how good of a cook you are,” She joked and he playfully tickled her sides and soon they were laughing together. 

The two male’s casual demeanors seemed to complement the laid-back energy of the afternoon. You watched Rafe’s lips pull into a smirk as he surveyed your work and your empty glass of wine. 

Dinner rolled around a few hours later, a relaxed atmosphere continuing to permeate through the air. You’d set the table in the dining room, the ten-person table sat next to a large window overlooking an expansive lake, and aided Eleanor in preparing her beef stir-fry. 

“It’s really good, Eleanor,” You complimented her once all of you were seated and digging into your food. 

“Thanks,” She grinned, “You’re a good sous chef, Y/N.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “Not better than me though, right, honey?” Topper asked. 

“Of course not, honey,” Eleanor winked at him. 

Small talk ensued and despite the fact that Eleanor warned the two men that business talk would bring down the room, they spent a good ten minutes talking about something called “tax increment financing”. 

Eleanor interrupted after it became too much, “So, Rafe, are you going to do any more renovations on this place?”

“After they finish the pool next summer, no. Did the home theatre, renovated the master bathroom and expanded the garage this summer. It’ll probably be move-in-ready next year.”

“Oh, are you selling it?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Rafe’s gaze flickered away, an unusual reaction for him. He usually had a quip or a witty retort ready. “No, I plan to spend more time away from Charlotte after New Year's. I’ll be living here at least five days a week.”

“Oh,” You nodded though you really hadn’t comprehended his words. You looked back down at your plate, and as you took another bite, his words started to set in. It was an inappropriate time to delve further but your mind started to race. He’d never mentioned that he wouldn’t even be living in Charlotte after the next few months. Shouldn’t he have mentioned this by now? “I-I thought …”

“We can talk about it later, Y/N,” Rafe dismissed you, bringing a piece of meat to his mouth, and looking away. 

He spoke as if you were annoying him now. Eleanor opened her mouth again to change the subject but you interrupted her, “I-I’m sorry … w-will you still need me then? If I’m in Chhhh-Charlotte and you’re here.”

“Did you hear me the first time, Y/N?” Rafe’s jaw set as he dropped his silverware. The clang made you jump but your mind was spinning. It was a simple question, wasn’t it? Was he stringing you a long? Would you be out of a job next year? 

“I-It p-p-p-pertains to me,” You continued, your heart racing as Rafe grimaced, “Can’t y-you just say if I’ll have a job or not?”

“You’ll have a job,” Getting confirmation made your shoulders drop from relief. It was almost worth whatever seed of rage you’d planted within him, “But you’ll relocate with me.”

“What?” You pushed your plate away, leaning back in your chair. 

Topper and Eleanor exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the escalating tension. It felt like you’d already poked the bull, you felt like you had to see it through,  “I’ll need you to move here. Won’t make sense to juggle from two places.”

“Mmm-my life is i-in Chhh-Charlotte. You n-never said this before,” You tried to keep your voice steady, to express your genuine disappointment despite your frustration. 

“It’s not my fault you haven’t caught on, Y/N,” He spoke sharply, “You know how this works. I manage my properties and business. My plans change. You’re a part of that. You’re making it an issue when it’s not. You’re acting like you have a million options.”

“I-I know I don’t–”

You looked at Topper and then Eleanor. Now, the two of them were looking anywhere but the two of you. 

“Then act like it.”

“Rafe–”

“I fucking own you, you don’t even understand that.”

“Rafe!”

“One more word, Y/N, and I swear to God.”

Your lips parted and your voice started to tremble as you felt the sting of his words, “This is so … shitty,” Perhaps it was the distance, the wood table that sat between you that made you feel so bold.

Rafe’s anger erupted, his face reddening as he slammed his hands on the table. “Boo-fucking-hoo, sweetheart! I’ve given you everything, the clothes on your back, keeping the lights on in your crappy apartment, and you’re still ungrateful?”

Your frustration reached its breaking point. “Fuck you, Rafe!” you shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t want it anymore!”

You pushed your chair back abruptly, no goal in mind for where you’d stomp off to but you felt your blood boiling. Was his entire goal to completely ruin your life? 

“Y/N!” He called after you and you turned your head to realize how close he was on your tail.  Adrenaline surged through you, the thought that you might never have control of your life left you close to completely spiraling. Determined to get away, you picked up your pace, practically running through the million-dollar home, over shiny waxed floors, moonlight shining through tall windows. 

He barked your name again and before you could reach the front door, his hand shot out and seized your upper arm. You screamed, his fingers squeezing your flesh so hard that you thought your skin might break. Swinging your body around, your feet lifted off the ground as he through you over his strong shoulder. 

Kicking, struggling, screaming and crying, Rafe carried you up a grand staircase, “Please,” You were begging but adrenaline was pumping though him too, making him moved with his own determination. He kicked open door and your head whipped as he stepped inside, slamming it closed. You couldn’t focus on any detail in the room but as he through you onto an expansive bed, you assumed it was the master bedroom. For a moment, you played a game of cat and mouse. You gained your balance, and tried to crawl off the bed. Every direction you went, he moved faster, until you were sitting on your knees in the middle of the bed. 

“You need to understand your place,” You watched as he started to loose the brown belt looped into his blue jeans. 

You shook your head frantically, “I don’t w-want this.”

“It will be easier if you just apologize,” Rafe let out a breath of air, a weary sigh, his face frustrated, “I promise, I’ll make it easier for you.”

“If I-I …w-will you use the belt?”

“I have to use the belt, sweetheart, you’ve been so bad. Tell you what, if you apologize, I won’t tie you down to the bed. How’s that sound?” 

The offer was as chilling as it was manipulative. You shook your head. You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize.

The process of what followed was both brutal and dehumanizing. You were left feeling exposed and vulnerable, your body laid bare and handcuffed to one of the posts of the canopy bed. The sting of the belt on your skin was relentless, each strike leaving a deep, aching mark that quickly turned to a disturbing shade of purple. Your apologies came out in frantic, broken pleas, but they seemed to come too late.

You even managed to ask him to hold you but he didn’t grant your wish that time. He left you to go back downstairs. You slid down to your knees when you couldn’t stand any longer, falling asleep in that position, head resting at a strange angle against the mattress. 

When you next awoke, the light of morning was gently filtering through the curtains. Rafe’s arms were wrapped around you, his steady breathing and soft snoring a stark contrast to the harshness of the previous night. His nose pressed into your hair, a reminder of his physical presence.

You cried softly against him, the tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to him. The sounds were muffled against his chest as you hugged him tighter.

hope you enjoyed!!

[beardedjoel]

oasis

dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌

warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.

a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!

Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?

The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.

Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.

Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy. 

He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.

You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.

He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.

Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.

So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.

When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.

It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.

Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.

Fuck.

His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.

Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks. 

When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.

“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.

You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.

“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”

“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”

You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.

The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight. 

You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.

“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”

Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.

Holy shit.

The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.

“M-Mr. Miller?”

Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.

“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.

“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.

“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.

“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.

Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing. 

“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”

“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.

Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”

Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.

“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.

“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.

“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.

“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.

“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.

“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for. 

You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him. 

And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man. 

“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling. 

“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward. 

“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you. 

Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle. 

“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little. 

“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him. 

Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”

You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.

Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch. 

A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you. 

“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away. 

“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.

Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”

You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.

“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches. 

The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now. 

“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are. 

“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch. 

“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants. 

It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied. 

Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you. 

When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to. 

“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.

“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.

“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”

“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.

You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.

“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit. 

“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”

“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy. 

“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.

“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.

“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”

“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting. 

“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”

His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.

Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.

“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.

“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core. 

Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff. 

“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”

“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.

Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”

You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon. 

“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”

You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago. 

“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.

“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.

Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”

Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.

“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.

“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”

Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward. 

“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”

Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.

You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you. 

You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.

“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.

“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.

“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”

“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.

“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.

“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”

“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.

A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin.  Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.

“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months. 

“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”

You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.

You let him.

The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.

“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”

“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.

“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.

“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.

“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”

“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking. 

“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”

You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air. 

“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself. 

You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.

You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you. 

But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you. 

“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking. 

“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words. 

Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be. 

“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.

“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 14

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 13 | Series Masterlist | Part 15

Chapter Word Count: Over 5k

Chapter Summary: The manager of The Red Room gives you a little advice regarding your situation with Bucky.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, backstory, reference to stalking, hopelessness. inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! I realize some of this may feel like filler, but it's happening for a reason. Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Ray kept a close but respectable distance as he took you to his car. It was similar to the vehicle he drove Bucky around in, but a slightly different shade of black that wasn’t as flashy. You should've spotted it sooner, but you weren’t exactly looking for it, were you?

“Have you just been driving around following me all day?” you asked once you were in the car.

“I followed you on foot, too. I’m good at blending in,” he said, giving you a sideways glance as he buckled up and made sure you were buckled up, too. There was no boasting in his statement, just truth. “It wouldn't surprise me if I’m the one asked to stay nearby when you join your friends on Saturday.”

“But perhaps if she really does want to go and you’re unable to accompany her, boss, someone could discreetly keep an eye on her.”

With his looks and massive build, he shouldn’t be able to blend in so easily. How many people paid that close attention to their surroundings though? You hadn’t before. You needed to be on guard more. And what was that going to do to your stress levels?

At least it would be Ray watching if he was asked and not one of Bucky’s other friends.

“Well, I hope watching me drink wine doesn't bore you,” you said, glancing out the window as he drove off, watching the cars and people go by. “How did you get so good at what you do?”

“Making sure you're safe doesn't bore me,” he said. Ironic considering his boss put you in danger. “And I think that’s a story for another time.”

Ray said he had been working for Bucky for a few years. You wondered just how they met. There had to be a story there. “Do you ever think about walking away from it?” you asked curiously, bringing your gaze back to him while he kept his eyes on the road. “I mean, you have a life outside of this, right?”

Did he have family? Friends? A loved one? He had to have a hobby at least. Something.

He tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Do you think one simply walks away?”

“No, I guess not,” you replied. It was unlikely that you would ever escape, but you didn’t know how it was for people who willingly ran in circles with men like Bucky. You still had a lot to learn. “But I’d like to think there’s hope for you if that’s what you want.”

“I appreciate the hope and I don’t want you to lose that,” he said, sparing you a sad glance. “But you should place it elsewhere.”

Where exactly would you place that hope when Bucky continued to infect everything in your life?

You nodded once, feeling a bit sad for him, too. He just seemed different from the others Bucky surrounded himself with. “Sorry for the questions.”

“Don't apologize,” he said, tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s nice that you care enough to ask.”

You smiled to yourself, content to sit in silence after that. Grabbing your phone from your bag, you aimlessly scrolled through your messages and stopped at Bucky’s name. There were no new messages, but would he send something at the stroke of midnight? And if he was in a mood without you around and Ray eventually told him that Zemo introduced himself to you, what would he do?

“We’re here,” Ray said after a minute, parking his car in front of a tall, sleek building and getting out. He held up a hand to stop the valet from opening the door for you, opting to help you out himself. “This way.”

The sleek theme continued as you went into the lobby and you understood why it was called The Red Room. The color was everywhere, balanced out by a mix of black and gray and soft lighting. The nearby sofa and chairs looked high-quality, as did the art. It appeared to be an oasis of luxury and a place for a well deserved break.

You stopped Ray before you got to the desk. “How much is a room? I get paid tomorrow, but…” You had some money in savings you could transfer over to cover what was surely an expensive cost.

“You haven't checked your account today, have you?”

Taking out your phone with a furrowed brow, you quickly logged into your bank account. An embarrassing squeak came out when you saw the amount, your eyes wide as you looked between your phone and Ray. That had to be some sort of mistake. There was no way…

Bucky.

“He put money in my account?” you whispered, double checking the amount to make sure your eyes weren't deceiving you. Why did he do that? “I can't…”

“He did and he won't take it back if you try,” Ray confirmed. “Regardless of how much you now have, if my boss found out that I suggested you stay here and made you pay he’d have my head.”

“Well, what’s the point of having this money then?” you pressed.

Not that you intended to use it. Spending even a dime of it would likely encourage Bucky to give you more. Or was it a test to see if you would spend it? Would he know if you did?

Maybe, just maybe, you could get Addison and Brady a nice wedding gift.

“To make sure you're taken care of in every possible way,” he said, gesturing to you to move forward.

“Welcome to The Red Room,” a woman in a black dress smiled, Ingrid from the name on her tag. “Do you have a reservation?”

“We do not,” Ray said, sliding a card over. “And I’ll need to speak with Natalia regarding a room, please.”

“Natalia?” Ingrid’s smile didn’t slip, but a hardened look took over her eyes and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I’m afraid that’s-”

“It’s fine, Ingrid. I’ll be happy to take care of them.” A redhead in a similar black dress walked over, her heels echoing on the marble floor. She carried herself with grace and power and looked like she could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. So did Ingrid for that matter. “Why don’t you go on break?”

“Of course.” Ingrid’s smile was back on her face. “Enjoy your stay,” she added, gliding away.

“Raymond. Good to see you,” Natalia said, her voice warm as he gave her a nod. “You’ll have to excuse Ingrid. She gets a little protective when anyone asks for Natalia. You know you're one of the only men around who still calls me that.”

“It’s your name, is it not?” he asked, though her tag read Natasha.

“Indeed it is. Maybe one day you’ll call me Natasha,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at you. You didn’t think she was judging you, but you still felt a little self conscious under her gaze. “I wasn't supposed to meet you until later. I also expected Bucky to be with you when that happened.”

You held your breath before you remembered that Ray said the manager had worked with Bucky before. “So you know who I am,” you said. For Bucky to preach about your safety, a lot of people were aware of who you were. “Does everyone know who I am?”

The corner of her lip quirked up. “Not everyone,” she said, turning her attention to Ray. “Why is she here early? Did something happen?”

“She needs a place to stay for the night and she’s not to be disturbed. That includes my boss.”

She raised an eyebrow again. “Understood. I’ll give her suite 213 and put you just across the hall.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard before she slid the card back to Ray. “Follow me.”

“Isn’t a suite a bit much?” you asked. And for Ray to pay for that, you had to pay him back somehow.

She paused to stare at you. “All of the rooms here are nice, but the suites are a bit more spacious. It’ll give you room to breathe while you relax,” she gently spoke. “You look like you could use some rest.”

Did she know the extent of what you had gone through? You weren’t claustrophobic but with Bucky smothering you, breathing and rest didn’t come to you as easily. “I appreciate that,” you said. A spacious area would feel nice.

She nodded, pressing the elevator button. “You’re also welcome to book anything in the spa at no charge and whatever you’d like from the restaurant or room service menu is on the house.”

You gaped at her. “So because I’m Bucky’s girl, you’ll just give me these things for free?” you asked, noticing that she stood on one side of you and Ray on the other. “I mean, I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, but there’s no need for the special treatment.”

Everyone so far in Bucky’s circle fawned over you. But what had you done to earn anything? Nothing. All you did was catch the eye of a powerful man.

“Nothing in life is free. There’s a price for everything,” she said above a whisper. “And I know you’re not ungrateful. You’re just not used to it.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it since you grew up with the belief that you had to work for what you were given. “You asked why I was here early. When exactly was I supposed to meet you?”

“Not to spoil the surprise, but Bucky booked a dinner reservation and our best suite for a romantic evening.” She gave Ray a glance, who didn’t look too pleased. “I think he plans to tell you the day of, if I had to guess.”

“Wonderful,” you muttered, a shiver running through your body. You weren't an idiot. If Bucky booked a suite for the two of you, he’d expect you to sleep with him.

“I thought you were good at keeping secrets, Natalia,” Ray uttered.

“I’m very good at keeping secrets that are actually worth keeping, Raymond,” she retorted.

“I’m glad you told me,” you said. In her defense, you asked a question and she gave you an almost direct answer. “Besides, it’s just another thing to add to the list of ‘surprises’ for today. Bucky having Ray follow me. Meeting Zemo.”

“Zemo?” She didn’t give anything away, but she gave Ray another look. This guy didn’t seem to have a lot of fans. “You met Zemo? When?”

“He introduced himself to me at the park just before we came here,” you replied.

She pursed her lips when the elevator door opened. “I can’t wait to hear how Bucky responds to that.”

Your stomach sank. You saw what he did to John after he insulted you. Zemo likely wouldn’t fare much better, but he also seemed to be a bigger player in whatever went on in the city.

“Will you let me do a sweep before she goes in?” Ray asked before Natasha could open the door.

“No one has been in this room and no one knew you were coming here, but I know you'll be chewed out if you don’t,” she said, stepping aside for him.

“You’re not planning to bug the place, are you, Ray?” You didn’t want to think he would, but you had to ask.

He didn’t look offended by the question. If anything, he seemed to understand your concern. “This is meant to be a safe haven for the rest of the day. I won’t take that from you,” he promised, shutting the door behind him. It was nice to have him somewhat on your side, even in the smallest capacity.

The hall was eerily quiet as you stood alone with the redhead. Your gaze darted back and forth, expecting Bucky to waltz in and tell you that this wasn’t a haven at all. That he’d drag you to the suite bed and do whatever he pleased.

“I’ve been told you have a kind heart,” Natasha said, bringing your attention back to her. “That’s good for Bucky.”

“Is it?” you asked, looking down the hall again.

“Relax,” she urged. “You don’t have to feel nervous here. You’re safe.”

“You work with Bucky, so I’m naturally going to feel nervous and suspicious,” you said. You wouldn’t apologize for that. “How much do you know about me?”

“A man named Jake who does security and surveillance works for both Bucky and I. When Bucky needed him for an extended period of time, I was naturally curious as to why. He gave me just enough pieces to put the puzzle together.”

“So you know I’m trapped,” you said. She had to know it wasn’t a consensual relationship.

“More or less,” she said.

“And let me guess. This Jake guy specializes in bugs and listening devices?”

“Hmm. So you know about the bugs,” she said. Bucky was all too proud to share that when you asked. “Jake does specialize in those and you might meet him at some point. If and when you do, don't blame him for doing his job, please. Not everyone gets to choose their line of work.”

“Well, I wish he would’ve stopped him,” you said. You could blame this guy, but it wouldn't do you any good. Like Natasha said, he may not have had a choice.

“If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t pleased when he realized he was helping bug an innocent person's place, but he has a sister and niece to consider,” she said, giving you a hard stare when you opened your mouth. “And before you ask because I know you’ll ask, I can’t help you.”

You tried not to get upset at her immediate denial to help. “May I ask why not?”

She sighed, toying with the delicate gold necklace around her neck. You wondered if the arrow charm was symbolic. “The women who work here… We didn’t exactly have the best upbringing and we didn’t have much freedom, even as adults. Including my sister,” she explained, a haunted look taking over her eyes momentarily. “But Bucky stepped in some time ago and helped us. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to open this place or give us normal life. I’ll be forever in his debt for that.”

“He helped you?” you asked. Marc mentioned that he donated to the local hospital and charities, but this was something else. Was this a normal hotel or some kind of refuge?

“He did. When he isn't doing bad things, he actually does some good,” she answered, still toying with her necklace. “In all the time I’ve known him, there have only been two things I’ve ever heard him say he wants and you’re one of them. If I help take you away from him, I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“So you won’t help me, but it’s really more like you can’t,” you guessed. She was essentially in Bucky’s pocket and had to think of the women under her employment and her sister. She couldn’t put them in danger. “No one will help me.”

“Barnes isn’t the kind of man you win a fight against. It’s better for most to stay on his good side than to be his enemy,” she said, putting a hand on your shoulder when you hung your head. “Hey. I’m not telling you to just lay over and accept your new relationship for what it is, but I don’t want you to be surprised when people keep telling you ‘no’ when you ask for help.”

“Everyone just looks the other way and that isn’t…” You bit your lip to keep from screaming.

“It isn’t fair. I know,” she whispered. Her sympathy didn't make you feel better. “I won’t make excuses for him because what he has done is awful, but he isn’t entirely evil. He’s… flawed. We all are.”

Would Bucky be so flawed if people didn’t enable him or look the other way? “Do you think I’ll get used to belonging to him? I keep fighting it, but…” Doors kept getting slammed in your face in terms of help and that hope continued to fade. Was it time to accept the inevitable?

She considered your question. “I can’t say if you’ll get used to it, but there’s a careful balance between embracing a circumstance while maintaining your own boundaries. You need to find that.”

“But I have no boundaries thanks to Bucky,” you argued. He took them away.

“Maybe not now, but you could get some back down the line. He isn’t a man most people win fights against, but he’s still just a man. Use what you know about him and sway him. You have a little more power than you think.”

You thought back to the club when Jax flirted with you. Bucky worked himself up, but your touch and soft demeanor helped calm him down. “I guess I could try,” you said. It seemed easy enough, but he was so good at swinging things in his favor that you had a hard time believing you had a chance.

“And it isn’t much, but I can offer you a space here to use on occasion if you need time away from him. I know you don’t believe he’ll let you use it, but I think you can convince him and you deserve a safe haven,” she said, smiling a little when she handed you a card. “I could even have one of the girls teach you some self defense if you’re interested in any lessons.”

You turned the card over. There was only a phone number listed and a black widow spider. “I appreciate the offer, Natasha,” you said, tucking it in your bag. It wasn’t freedom, but it was something. And whatever Natasha’s full story was, your heart went out to her. “Can I ask what the second thing is?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said Bucky has only wanted two things in the time you’ve known him and I’m one of them. What’s the other thing?”

She shook her head. “That’s for him to tell you.”

Ray came out of the room a moment later. “All clear. Not that I expected anything less from you and your staff, Natalia,” he said. It earned him a small smile as she passed his room card over. “I’ll be just across the hall if you need me.”

“And you can ask for me personally if you call the desk,” Natasha added.

“I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine,” you said honestly. As long as Bucky didn't show up. “I’ll just order some wine and food, curl up in bed, and finish reading my book.” You didn’t need much else.

“Are you sure?” Ray asked.

“I’m sure,” you smiled softly. He had done enough by bringing you there. “Thank you both.”

They each gave you a sympathetic gaze as you stepped inside and shut the door behind you. The red, black, and gray theme continued in the tastefully designed suite. It was the nicest hotel room you had ever been in. Too nice for someone like you.

Setting your bag down and removing your shoes, you went right to the bedroom with your phone and book. The large bed looked comfortable and inviting. Sighing as you stretched out, you stared at the ceiling and tried to reflect on what had recently transpired.

Natasha. She couldn't directly help you and she had her reasons, but she might be a good ally. She was at least in the camp that you deserved some sense of freedom and offered you a small form of sanctuary. It was better than nothing.

Ray, you still couldn't figure him out. Like Natasha, he wouldn't directly help you. Bucky said he was loyal and didn't let emotions cloud him. He seemed to care to an extent though.

You froze when a message popped up on your phone. It wasn't from Bucky though. It was from your coworker, Kate.

“Hey, girl! You know Clark? Pretty blue eyes. Super hot. He stopped in and asked when your next shift was.”

Your stomach twisted in knots. Why was he asking? “Hey. What did you tell him?”

Kate messaged back quickly and your stomach twisted up more. “Told him you’d be in tomorrow and he looked happy until Mrs. Crandle announced that you have a boyfriend?! Girl, WHAT?! I need all the details!”

You groaned and hid your face in the pillow. Mrs. Crandle meant no harm, but this was the last thing you needed. Maybe Clark wouldn't come around after hearing that. “I’ll tell you about it during our next shift together.”

You didn't look at your phone for the rest of the afternoon. Instead, you lost yourself in the pages of the book and only took a break to order a drink and meal from the room service menu. And true to Natasha’s word, no one disturbed you. The food was left outside of the door once ready. Natasha even had a nice pair of pajamas sent up for you.

It was a quiet and relaxing rest of the day.

But as the sun went down and you got ready for bed, you held up your left hand and looked at your bare ring finger. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you imagined a ring around your finger. How happy your friends would be that you found love. How happy Bucky would be to have you tied to him forever.

Glancing at the empty side of the bed after your delicious meal, you wondered how it was going to be sleeping next to Bucky. Was he a cuddler or would he want his own space? Would he hog the covers? You would find out soon enough, wouldn't you?

But for today, he left you alone. He kept his promise. Yes, he sent Ray to watch you, but he hadn't shown up or reached out. He actually gave you some space instead of smothering you. And with you in the suite, he didn't have eyes on you.

Who knows? Maybe his mood improved and he had a good day without you. One could only hope.

“Good night, Bucky,” you whispered, closing your eyes and getting the sleep you craved.

A loud knock on the door woke you. Slowly opening your eyes with a groan, you wondered what time it was. Your body alarm clock said it was too early. Stretching, you made your way to the door and stopped when you heard raised voices outside.

“Get the hell out of my way, Natasha.”

You gasped when you heard Bucky’s voice, the quick anger rushing through you making you clench your fists. God, you knew it. You knew he’d show up.

“Don't make me put you on your ass, Barnes.” Natasha didn't sound afraid at all. What was it like to not have fear? “I’ll repeat myself in case you didn't hear me the first time: My instructions were that she wasn't to be disturbed and that includes you. So unless you're checking in, I suggest you leave. The fact that you’re even on this floor after I promised no one would bother her-”

“He was up here to speak with me,” Ray cut in.

“And I did. Now I need to see her,” Bucky said, the desperation in his voice making your heart ache.

“Boss, it’s two in the morning.”

“Exactly. You need to let her sleep. It’s the least you could do,” Natasha urged.

“I promised her the day to herself, but that day is up and I have to see that she’s okay,” Bucky argued. You were lucky he didn't knock on your door at 12:01. “I just need to see her with my own eyes.”

The bugs at your place would've given him access to whatever he wanted, but he didn't have that in the suite. It was probably driving him crazy. He sure as hell sounded out of sorts.

“Wow, an entire day. How generous.” You almost laughed at Natasha’s snark. It was appreciated. “Is this about Zemo? I know he saw her at the park, but he hasn’t been around here. We both know I’d never allow him to set foot in the door without a very good reason.”

“I still need to deal with him and he’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him with my bare hands,” Bucky growled, making you tense up.

“You have enough blood on your hands, but what’s one more body?” Natasha asked, the conversation reminding you once again that Bucky was a killer. “Look, I’m not going to disturb her and neither should you.”

“Natasha-”

“No. You played this wrong, Barnes. You could've chosen a compassionate route of courting her and eased her into this, but you intimidated her from the start and made it so she won’t ever be free of you. Maybe you're more like your father than-”

The sound of something colliding with the nearby wall made you jump back from the door, your heart thudding. It took a moment to get your bearings before you threw the door open to make sure Natasha was okay. The redhead, Ray, and Bucky all looked toward you and no one had a single mark on them. The wall beside the door, however, had a fist sized hole.

“Kotyonok,” Bucky smiled the second he saw you. He looked like he hadn't slept much. Good. Now he knew how it felt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not having it in you to scream, cry, or anything else. “And did you just punch a hole in the wall?”

He chuckled sheepishly, brushing off his gloved hand. “Yeah, I did that.”

He was unbelievable.

“I’m so sorry he woke you,” Natasha said, putting out an arm to stop Bucky when he stepped forward. “Back up, Barnes. You’ve seen for yourself that she’s fine.”

“Yep. I’m fine.” You gestured to yourself and yawned. “Can I please go back to sleep?”

“Can I come in for just a minute?” Bucky asked, a touch of guilt in his eyes when you narrowed yours. He was pushing his luck when all you wanted to do was go back to bed. “Please?”

“Apologize to Natasha for damaging her property,” you demanded. He had no right to do that.

“I’m sorry, Natasha,” he sincerely stated.

Natasha’s mouth parted before her cool expression took over again. “Thankfully no one else was on this floor, so you hopefully didn't disturb anyone else.”

Bucky's eyes were still on you, full of longing. “May I please come in?”

You mulled over it. Technically he still kept his promise and let you be for a day. You could be angry later that he showed up so early. For now, you needed sleep.

“Come in,” you said, surprising everyone, yourself included. “It’s fine,” you assured Natasha and Ray.

The redhead nodded after a moment and lowered her arm, but the bodyguard shot his boss a subtle glare. “You know I'll have to bill you for the damage,” Natasha told Bucky.

“I know,” he said. He could afford it.

“Thank you, Ray. Natasha. I hope you both get some rest, too,” you said, letting Bucky into the suite and shutting the door.

Bucky let out a breath as he looked you over, but didn't move any closer when you backed up. Of course he had to invade what was meant to be your haven for the night. Strangely, you weren't as nervous as usual to have him so close. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you mumbled, crossing your arms when he slipped his jacket off. “You really couldn't wait until after sunrise to see me?”

“I’m sorry. I was up late at the club and Ray said you were here and… I missed you,” he explained, his expression soft.

It was kind of nice to be missed. “I’m sure you did,” you yawned again. “King of the loopholes,” you added under your breath.

He ran a gloved hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry about Zemo. I should've known he would-”

You shook your head quickly. “Nope. Not having this talk when I'm still sleepy,” you said, heading toward the bedroom. It was too heavy of a discussion to have in the middle of the night. “Take your shoes off. We both know you aren't leaving.”

He looked surprised all over again when you looked back at him. “You’re letting me stay?” he asked, a smile on his face like you handed him a gift. “You aren't telling me to leave?”

“Stay or go, up to you, but I'm going back to sleep,” you said, curling up on the bed. “And if you sleep next to me, don't you dare let your hands wander.”

“And you’re letting me lay with you,” he said, the mattress dipping beside you. “You’re being very agreeable.”

“You’re lucky I’m choosing to be nice instead of kicking your ass or letting Natasha kick your ass for disturbing me and my sleep,” you said, tensing up when he spooned you, his arm wrapped tight around you and his breath warm against your neck. “We have some things to talk about when I wake up.”

Ray following you. Zemo. Natasha’s offer. Bucky’s mom. Your relationship.

“We can talk about whatever you want,” he whispered, nuzzling you gently as your eyes shut. “Did you miss me yesterday?”

“No,” you mumbled.

Your reply didn't stop him from chuckling. “Not even a little bit?”

You sighed. “If I say ‘yes’, will you let me sleep?”

“I will,” he answered.

“I missed you a little,” you said, snuggling further into the pillow. He placed his hand over yours and you blamed your tiredness for why you didn't tense up again. “Now sleep.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, but didn't push any further, thankfully. “Thank you for letting me hold you.”

Your heart clenched. He sounded so happy just to be around you, just to be in your space. You were his everything.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, drifting off not long after.

Your last thought before you fell asleep was that you hoped Bucky would behave himself.

Lovelies, I think we all knew Bucky would show up the first chance he had. What do we think of Natasha? Is she being truthful that she can't help or is she biding her time? Will Bucky behave? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[daisyblog]

Watermelon Sugar

Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Watermelon Sugar was made.

warning: smut, oral (female receiving), swearing

Very highly requested.

“So Styles…what are we working on today? Do you want to keep working on Treat People?”. Kid asked as he span around on his chair to face everyone, readjusting his hat as he did.

Harry gently licked his bottom lip as he thought about his options. “I’ve kinda got these lyrics that I can’t stop humming…I wanna work on them…see if they go anywhere, but if anyone feels uncomfortable then just say and we’ll scrap the whole thing!”.

“Shit it’s getting fucking deep in here today!”. Tyler joked, earning a snigger from Kid and a small grin from Mitch.

“What are you talking about man, every song is fucking deep”. Kid couldn’t bite his tongue. Harry only flipped him off with a sarcastic smile.

This is what Harry liked about the team, they could joke around, not taking anything to serious. But at the same time, they’d all shared many of the deepest conversations.

“Have you got like a melody or anything H?”. Mitch quietly asked as he prepared to play.

Harry shook his head as he pulled his lips into his mouth. “Nah just go with it and see what happens”.

“Tastes like strawberries…on a summer evenin'…and it sounds just like a song”. Harry acoustically sang, trying to find the right notes and melody.

“What’s with you and fruit, man?”. Mitch asked the question everyone was dying to know. “Plus what the fuck sounds like a song?”.

Harry ran his finger under his nose, a nervous habit he had. “Nothing…it’s nothing…just open for interpretation”.

---

Anne didn’t need an excuse to host a summer garden party, so the moment the sun came out she invited all her close family and friends over for food, drinks and a good time.

Harry and YN had been finding it difficult to leave each others sides, whether that was Harry’s arm reaching around her waist to sit on her hip, an arm over her shoulder or sharing a quick peck when they thought nobody was looking.

So when YN was in the kitchen, reaching across the spectacular spread Anne had put on to place a few strawberries on her plate, she felt two hands slide around her middle and a face nuzzle into her neck.

“I’ve missed you”. Harry placed small kisses up her neck, YN trying not to let her body respond as she took a bite of a strawberry, placing the green on the plate.

“I haven’t been anywhere”. YN giggled as she swallowed the fruit, placing the plate down so she could turn in his arms.

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers gently played with his loose curls. Harry met her lips with his, the sweet taste of strawberry lingered between them.

“Let’s go upstairs”. Harry mumbled against her lips, that were now a darker shade of red.

“Bubs we’re in your mums…there’s a party going on”. YN pointed out as Harry’s lips nibbled down her neck, teasing and distracting her from her thoughts.

Harry only shrugged his shoulders in response. “When has that ever stopped us?”. YN knew he had a point, but she was still reluctant, glancing around to see if anyone would see them wonder off. “Please baby”.

“But I want more berries”. YN wined as she glanced back at her plate, sitting there full of fresh strawberries.

“Well I want you!”. Harry gently pulled her by the neck to place a lingering kiss to her swollen red lips.

---

��All I’m getting so far is you’ve eaten strawberries on a summer evening and it sounds like a song!”. Mitch was literal with his interpretation, looking at Harry like he’d gone crazy.

“Mitch just listen to the fucking lyrics man…we’re only like three lines in and I already know what it’s about.” Tyler laughed at how naive his friend was being right now.

Whilst Kid and Tyler fiddled about with some ideas for mixing and editing ‘Golden’, Mitch tested out a few chords to see what would fit with the current song Harry was writing.

Harry was noticing some lyrics down in his leather book, when Mitch played a particular melody that caught his ears. He listened carefully trying to find the right timing.

“I want more berries…And that summer feelin'…It's so wonderful and warm”. Harry sung, catching the other’s attention, all invested in where he was going with it. “Breathe me in…Breathe me out…i don't know if I could ever go without..”.

Harry paused as he processed where this song was going. But glancing around the room, he spotted a book on the table. Giggling to himself, he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching for it. “I don't know if I could ever go without…Watermelon sugar…High!”.

“Sounds like you’ve just named your next song”.

---

Once their hidden by the four walls in Harry’s room, he quickly reaches for YN’s waist, leaving traces of his fingers behind. Pulling her closer to him as their lips become ones and their fronts meet.

The warmth from their bodies being so close has caused them both to feel hot. Their movements feel quick and fast, but slow and soft all at the same time.

As Harry walks them blindly over to the bed, YN’s hands become greedy and pulls his T-shirt off and leaves it drop to the floor. Taking YN’s route, Harry’s ring clad fingers, find their way to the front of YN’s skirt unbuttoning it as their lips stay together like magnets.

Once her skirt and underwear are pooled on the floor, keeping Harry’s tahirt company, YN finds herself lying with her back on the duvet covered bed. Instead of joining her, YN feels his lips attach themselves to her inner thigh. Her mind becomes dizzy as she feels his wet lips trailing further up.

“Harry!”. Her lips moan, wanting to feel more as her lower stomach began to tighter already. His lips are now needier, moving higher and closer. In a quick movement, Harry grabs a pillow from the bed and places it under her hips.

Leaning forward Harry’s tongue meets her, licking up and down with a slow teasing start. His hands move her thighs so her bare legs are resting over his shoulders. Another moan leaves YN’s lips as she feels his mouth move against her.

“Oh, fook!”.

Her moaning only encourages his movements, as well as feeds his ego. Whilst his tongue teases her, swirling around as he tastes the wetness as it drips down his chin, he moves his left hand to rest on her lower stomach, pushing down gently.

“Fookin’ ‘ell, that’s good!”.

Harry could feel YN’s hips start to buck against him, so he gently held her hips down so the sensations hit harder. The sound of her heavy pants outplayed the sound of Harry’s tongue hitting the wetness between her legs.

Knowing YN was close as she muttered out small encouragements, Harry moved his tongue faster against her, lapping up the sweet taste. The addicted sensation began to build and the heat travelled down YN’s body. Her head swung back on the sheet behind her as the pressure built.

It hit her with force, causing her to feel light headed and unable to think of anything but the climax, when her thighs clenched around his head, Harry had no choice than to keep up his movements as he rode her through her high.

“Oh Harry, oh yes!”.

The sound was like heaven to Harry’s ears as he felt her vibrate against him. Watching her orgasm was still something he could never get bored of.

The energy had been wiped away from YN as she now laid still on the bed, unable to move due to the shakiness. Harry lifted himself up from his position between her legs, wiping away the wetness left behind on his chin.

Harry moved further up the bed with his knees, hoovering over YN’s tired body. He leaned forward pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“Worth missing out on eating your strawberries?”. Harry sarcastically asked, as he held himself up with his arms.

---

As they continued to work on the song, now known as ‘Watermelon Sugar’, the penny dropped for Mitch as Harry sang, trying to perfect the melody and pre-chorus.

“Tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin'…And it sounds just like a song…I want your belly and that summer feelin'…I don't know if I could ever go without”.

Mitch’s eyes went wide at the realisation. “Shit…fucking hell man…you’re singing about eating-”.

Before Mitch could finish his sentence, Harry cut him short. A large cheeky smirk covering his face as he did so.

“It’s a song about wanting to eat strawberries!”.

Tag List:

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[darnell-la]

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗜𝗫

pairing: dark!dom!Logan Howlett x non-mutant!fem!reader

warning: drugging, head butting, oral (fem receiving), nightmare fuck, woken from sleep, rough fuck, multiple orgasms, obsession, etc.

note: we can’t stop writing about this man. he’s everything we need.

please like, COMMENT, follow, reblog, and REQUEST us!

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!

————————————————————————

𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩

“Maybe you’re just no one’s type anymore, sugar. That attitude doesn’t sit well on women like you,” Logan said across the bar after hearing y/n complain to Storm that it’s hard to find a person she’s interested in.

“Or maybe you can mind your business!?” Y/n turned to look his way with a yell. Storm slightly touched her back to calm her now. “No! — I’m tired of him talking. It’s not like you’re so sweet yourself!” Y/n said.

Logan looked at the frustrated young lady with a grin as he placed his cigar in his mouth. “Ain’t like your dick could stand up still either,” she said, making the people who were listening, laugh.

“Ahh, wouldn’t you like to know,” Logan said, unfazed by the small words she tried to use to hurt his feelings. “Actually, I wouldn’t, because even Jean didn’t want a piece of you. And that was when you were younger,” she said.

People were shocked at her words, still laughing but watching out how much. They knew mentioning Jane was a topic he hated hearing.

“Watch what you say. Just because you ain’t a mutant, don’t mean I won’t handle you,” Logan said. Of course, her heart rate raised, but she stood her ground as she got up from the bar seat.

“Try me,” she said, making the metal-boned man laugh as he approached her. He could see her chest rise, knowing she wanted nothing she challenged him to do.

Logan looked back at Storm who was shaking her head as she pointed at the shit glasses y/n had downed. A whole tray that hold at least fifteen was insane for a human.

Logan looked back at y/n understanding why she felt so much emotion tonight. Her eyes were glossy and she slightly swayed back and forth. She was definitely halfway to passing out.

Logan leaned forward, mouth slightly grazing Y/n’s ear. “Go to bed, sweet cheeks,” Logan said as his hot breath hit the side of her face before heading to his room.

It’s been a few weeks since the incident at the bar with Logan. Y/n decided to keep it cool for a while until no one expected anything.

“Logan, can you please get my phone from the living room while I cook, please?” Y/n asked. He sighed loudly, always grumpy about something as he got up and walked out of the kitchen.

Y/n quickly pulled two pills out of her pocket and dropped them into his full glass of liquor. She had gone through the pharmacy they had for mutants downstairs, and searched for something that would make him rethink what he said to her.

Y/n went to walk away until she stopped and thought of his constant bullying since she got here.

Y/n pulled two boxes from her other pocket, took every pill from their wrapper, and dumped them in his drink. “One for your lazy dick, and the other energy since I should go to sleep early,”

Y/n quickly through the trash in the bin before running back to continue cooking. “Almost done,” she smiled as he placed her phone down with a fake smile back.

“For a mutant, you sure do get tired walkin’ room to room,” y/n snickered as he downed his drink. If he looked at the glass, he would’ve noticed something off, but he didn’t think of it.

“Does liquor get old these days? Fuckin’ hell,” Logan spoke with a few coughs. Y/n did her best, to keep her laughing. He had no clue.

“Logan, relax!” Y/n heard Scott yell somewhere in the mansion. At first, she thought they were arguing again until something broke and Jane screamed. What the hell is going on?

Y/n quickly got up from her bed and ran out of her room, toward where ever they were. “Logan, relax! Y-You’re safe!” Jane spoke. She’s told y/n she had to use those words whenever he got out of control.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked as she stepped around the corner. Logan’s head instantly snapped towards her. “No,” Scott said, having a feeling what Logan was going to do.

“Y/n, stay back. H-He’s not doing well right-“ Jean spoke but got knocked out of the way by Logan running towards y/n. As well as Scott.

Y/n tried to run, but before she could turn all the way around, he grabbed her, quickly throwing her over his shoulders before running away.

“Hey! — Let me go, Logan! Stop it!” She yelled as he ran towards the front door. Where was he taking her? Why was he taking her? He almost made it out of the mansion with her in hand until Storm used the wind to drag y/n back.

Logan stumbled, realizing she wasn’t in his hold anymore. He turned around stepped forward followed after y/n was dragged back until he looked up to see the whole crew staring right back at him.

Logan let out a loud growl before running off and out into the darkness of night.

“What the fuck!” Y/n shouted as Storm lifted her up and Jean checked her for any bruises. “What the hell is his problem?” Y/n asked as Scott ran out of the house to see where Logan had run off.

“Motherfucker’s taking my bike!” Scott shouted. “We don’t know. He was sitting on the couch, eatin’ the rest of the food you cooked, as always, then — then he started switching,” Jean said.

“At first it was mild, but I noticed it first. He then asked where you were and if we thought you’d be asleep yet,” Storm said. “We said we didn’t know, and he instantly grew angry,” Jean said.

“Motherfucker got up to go to your room and I stopped him before he could,” Scott said as he ran back into the mansion. It was late and y/n was confused. What was happening?

Y/n’s currently in her room as the crew took the yet to go find Logan. Xavier came with them. He said, maybe if he got closer to Logan, he could ease into his mind.

The school has been out for a couple of weeks, so the kids are either with their parents or in buddy groups somewhere in instate.

This means y/n has the whole mansion to herself on one of the worst days possible. While an animal is loose. A wild animal.

Y/n thought if she closed her eyes and went to sleep, she wouldn’t stress as much, so that’s what she did. Now she’s deep in her sleep, dreaming about what she was trying to distract herself from. Logan.

Logan was chasing her through the long halls. Every door being locked and the hall getting longer was the most terrifying part of the nightmare.

He chased her for what felt like hours. Each time he spoke, it felt like he was closer.

“Don’t run” “Stay still” “Mhm — That’s it” “All that shit talkin’ and you’re cryin’. Pathetic,” he said with a chuckle following behind his voice.

“Please, someone help!” She yelled in her dreams as she felt his breath on her neck. She was caught. Logan grabbed y/n and dragged her to a room that would’ve been locked for her.

“You’re a fast one, but I’ve gotcha,” he growled low as he hovered over the girl, lips inches from hers. “Smellin’ so good for me. You’re such a tease,” Logan ripped her clothes off. They disappear into dust. She knew she had to be dreaming.

“Runnin’ from me, but you’re soaked. You’re a lair, baby,” he said as he slipped her panties off, sniffing them before placing them in his back pocket. “Now how about ya cum for me?”

Y/n woke up slowly, hearing a voice in her room. “Now how about ya cum for me?” She heard for the second time, but in between her legs. Y/n whined as she looked down, not knowing what was happening until she saw him.

Logan was in between her legs, sucking on her pussy like a starved man. “Logan!” She screamed, scared at first until her back arched from the full effect of his tongue all over and between her folds.

Logan watched her reaction as he ducked on her hard, eating her out rougher than before. He’s been at this for. Good thirsty minutes and still couldn’t get enough.

“Gimme another,” he said. “What? — I-I don’t- Fuck,” y/n’s eyes rolled back. He was working her just right. He knew he was. He’s been waiting all night. From when he was eating the rest of dinner, to when he hid in the woods, waiting for the crew to leave, to sneaking in her room, hoping not to wake her up too early.

“Give me a 6th one, heh? Then I’ll fill ya up,” Logan said as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling and pumping into her to force another one he so desperately wanted.

The instant pressure of his fingers sent y/n over the edge with a loud cry and shake. She came all over his face, wetting him like a waterpark.

“Fuuuck,” Logan groaned, feeling in heaven. “Can never get tired of that, princess,” Logan said as he crawled up and over her until he attacked his lips onto her, softly.

Y/n kissed back for a second, feeling too deep into the mood. She only lasted for a little bit after she woke up, but she was sure this was the best orgasm she’s ever had.

“Logan- Logan!” Y/n pushed at his chest, making him lean back. “W-We can’t. They’re looking for you and you’re — You’re here eating me out and making out with me and-“ y/n’s mind ran everywhere until he cut her off with a short kiss.

“It’s okay, sugar. I need them out of the house for what I’m about to do to you,” Logan said, confusing her. “Logan — You’re feeling this way because I drugged you,” y/n blurted out.

Logan forced over her as she slapped her hands over her face in embarrassment. “Saying that out loud makes me feel bad, but, yes. I put a whole box of energy pills and Viagra on your drink when you went and grabbed my phone — I-I’m sorry,” y/n genuinely apologizes.

She thought he was going to lash out before she heard him chuckle. That chuckle turned into a laugh as he leaned up off of the bed.

“Baby, I pieced that together when I was in the living room, eatin,” Logan said as y/n backed up against her headboard. “My plan was to go up to your room and confront you before fucking you into your mattress, but Scott stopped me,”

“Then I saw you come around the corner and thought I could fuck you into the dirty in the woods like the low and pathetic slut you are, but Scott stopped me again,”

“So I ran — I knew they’d come looking for me. I waited in the woods for nearly an hour. Cock throbbing. Balls waiting to empty. I wanted to jack one off right then, but I knew it wouldn’t have been enough,”

“Besides — I’d rather fill every whole you’ve got to satisfy my needs,” Logan said before lunging at y/n. Y/n screamed and fought, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. He was stronger and wild. He needed her now.

“Keep fightin, baby. Always seemed hot knowing you couldn’t overpower me, even if you tried,” he mocked as he ripped his jeans off of him, as well as his boxers.

“N-No, no, no! Logan, I-I’m not doing this. I’m not doing — That!” Y/n said after seeing his length. He was long. He was huge. Veins nearly covered the whole thing. His balls looked stiff and in need of release.

“You’re gonna take it. You brought this on yourself, princess,” Logan said as he ripped his shirt off. Y/n had just noticed she was fully naked. He had stripped her from her nightgown when she was sleeping.

“I-It was a mistake!” Y/n tried pushing back as he came in between her legs. “Was it though? I smell how wet you get around me every day. All that anger is just an excuse because you’re too bitchy to ask for my cock,” Logan looked directly into her eyes, just a few inches away.

“Well, you won’t have to ask anymore. I’ve got the picture from now on,” Logan forced his huge length inside of y/n, stretching her walls in an instant. She cried at the pain but moaned at the pleasure.

“Yeah,” he growled, teeth stuck together. “Gonna fuck you all fuckin’ night,” Logan’s hips began to move at an ungodly pace. The huge man leaned over y/n like an inhuman form. Deep down he was.

He placed her legs on his shoulders and pushed down into her like some duck doll he had ready in his room for him.

Her lower back was slightly in the air. She could him thrust into her fully. She was forced to watch him use her cunt like some movie.

“L-Logan,” y/n threw her head back as she came unexpectedly from the angle he had her in. “Look at that waterfall. So fuckin’ pretty,” Logan wished he could slurp her up, but he was too busy digging in her guts for more.

“You know — That comment about Jean back at the bar — It was unnecessary,” Logan began a conversation with y/n. She was so confused about how because she was struggling to keep her mind straight. Her head already seemed light.

“I should’ve dragged you to my room then, but I was calm. Noticed you had a few drinks. Drinks always make sluts act out,” he spat.

“Anyway — About Jean. Yeah, I lost feelings a while ago. You wanna know when? When you came along,” he admitted. “Those sexy jeans and top that hugged your body set me off, quick. Jean was outta there,”

“Then your personality. Sweet and precious but evil to people like me. People who’re assholes,” he leaned closer to her face. “But, you know what, baby? I think you like assholes. Just look at the way you take my cock. I’m basically bullying myself into you,”

He wasn’t wrong. Before y/n signed up to teach at the school slash mansion, she was always caught up with some deuce. She wouldn’t be lying if she said she felt a type of way around Logan after realizing how grumpy and mean he can get.

She didn’t realize at the time, but when he felt the need to let some steam loose earlier today, he asked, looking for y/n. Not Jean. His mind was all on y/n.

“Such a slut — You’re squeezing me,” he teased as he felt himself grow close. “Keep goin’ — I know you like this,” he said as y/n’s mouth parted. The groan leaving Logan’s mouth as he watched y/n cum on his cock for the second time tonight, sent him over the edge.

The man had no words. All he could do was groan and growl loudly as he pounded into her, watching the light leave her eyes. She was definitely done for tonight.

“Fuck!” He yelled, cum spilling into her throbbing cunt. Logan thrust slowly, watching their cum coat his cock. He knew after tonight, that he’d need her every night. He was going to make that happen whether her attitude matched his or not.

[moonchildstyles]

harry at these soccer games…… 🥸🥸🥸 now THATS! my baby daddy prosecco h🥸

wordcount: 3.2k+

—————

"Sweetheart, are y'almost ready?" 

(Y/N) wanted to roll her eyes, huff out an attitude and shout back to Harry that she'd be ready when she was ready, until she saw the time. 

They were now running fifteen minutes behind.

To be fair, she thought she was doing much better on time than she actually was. She had figured the last time he had shouted to her was only a short two minutes ago, but it appeared he had given her a full ten minutes and she was still working on getting her hair to lay the way she wanted. At least her makeup was done and her outfit was laid out on her bed. 

"Almost," (Y/N) called back over the sound of the hairdryer, working the device a bit quicker over her strands. 

"We need to leave in five minutes, love. We're already running a little late, so try to be ready soon." 

Her lips thinned at his evergreen patience. Now she felt that much more guilty for almost giving him attitude. Besides, today was for him, one of the very few times he allowed himself to be the focus of their activities, the least she could do was hurry up and little and let him enjoy it to the fullest. 

Despite still not being happy with her hair, she took the strands at what they were and turned off the dryer. Worst case, she'd stick a claw clip in and hope that concealed the untamable strands. Rushing back to her bedroom, she made quick work of wiggling into her outfit. Finishing touches came in the form of clumsy perfume spritzes, extra swipes of lip gloss before shoving the tube in her bag, and blindly stuffing her feet into her shoes. 

Skittering out of her bedroom, she met Harry where he was standing with his phone in hand, forehead creased. 

"I'm ready, I'm sorry," (Y/N) blurted, fastening her emergency claw clip to the handle of her purse, "We can go." 

Harry looked up at her, clearly stressed with lines around his eyes and lips thinned, "'S alright, love. Y'look pretty." 

"Worth the wait?" she teased, feeling her cheeks warm from his smile praise.

The worry lines on his face melted some as she spoke, "Always. C'mon, pretty." 

Setting her hand in the crook of Harry's offered arm, (Y/N) suddenly forgot about each strand of hair that wouldn't cooperate, the fold on the heel of her sock from stubbornly stepping into her shoes. There was no way she could feel less than perfect when Harry talked to her that way—when he looked at her like that. 

—————

After the debacle of finding a parking space among the crowded lot, (Y/N) wasn't excited to see the amount of people that outnumbered the cars they had already trekked through. While she definitely enjoyed her nightlife, bar hopping among different crowds, there was something definitely much less appealing about this crowd she found herself among. 

(It was probably the lack of alcohol, if she was being honest). 

"Where are our seats?" (Y/N) murmured, clutching Harry's hand to keep him from straying. 

Absently peeking at the ticket on his phone, Harry rattled off the section and seat numbers. Truthfully, the information didn't mean much to her given that Harry was in charge of leading them to where they needed to go; she had hoped he would tell her in general where they would be watching the match, as in by the goal or something. 

She hummed in response, letting him pull her to go ahead of him as they ventured into a particularly congested area of the arena. A line for the concessions converged with the line of eager fans attempting to get special edition merchandise for the event, enough activity to leave a narrow space for both flows of traffic to travel through. 

"Jus' go straight ahead," Harry murmured as he ducked down to her ear, his hands on her waist from behind. 

A string of excuse me and sorry fell from her lips every time she encountered a new body, her steps minuscule as they moved beyond. If she had even wanted anything to drink or snack on during the game, there was no way she was even attempting the line unless they found a less noticeable stall or until everyone cleared out. 

Popping out on the other side, (Y/N) found a small space out of the way before turning to look at Harry once more. He made sure they got through the worst of it together, but his captaining job was far from over if the rest of the stadium was anything like that. 

"Y'okay, pretty?" he asked, looking to her through the dark of his shades though the stern line of his lips showed off all of his concern. 

"Yeah," she sighed, anchoring herself once more with a grip on his hand, "Just a lot of people. I wasn't expecting this." 

He hummed an acknowledgment to her as they started down the curving corridor along the bowl of the venue. "I've been wanting to take y'to other matches before this one, but someone's always too busy." 

The look he cast over his sunnies was accusing, though it lost much of his grit when a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"Because I am," (Y/N) countered, just a pitch away from a whine in her voice, "And, I don't think I've been missing out on much if this is how these things go." 

"'S no different than one of your concerts, love," he mused, ever-patient as he counted off each of the section headers above the doors leading to the seating, "And this is a big match, anyway. They're usually not this crazy." 

Before she could offer anything in response, Harry rapidly pulled her out of the way as a group of shirtless men with green painted torsos barreled through the corridor, drunken laughter spilling in their wake. His features were set in stiff lines as he looked over his shoulder at the rowdy group disappearing. 

"Maybe a little worse than your concerts, actually," he muttered, the admission made under his breath as he opted to keep his arm around her waist as opposed to leashing her by his hand. Easier to keep her safe. 

With that, he became her guard dog for the trek, sharp eyes keeping watch for any and everything that might cause his pretty girl harm while finding their seats. Rowdy patrons or those unwilling to give her space were given sharp glare before Harry elbowed around them, ensuring no one touched even a single hair on the top of her head. 

It was enough to have (Y/N) sighing as if in a dream. It was cute seeing him act this way, protective and adoring. It was even more interesting to see others' reactions to his behavior; when others cowered out of the way, (Y/N) wondered what was going on in their head. She couldn't imagine wanting to go the opposite direction of her Harry, not even when he had his lips pursed and eyes narrowed. She was too familiar with the dimples hiding in the folds of his cheeks or the bunny-like front teeth shielded by lips. 

"I'll go first this time. Hang onto me," Harry directed once they reached the correct section. 

As he started down the flight of stairs, he reached a hand out behind him for (Y/N) to take. She didn't hesitate before clutching his fingers, his grip tight as he started descending to their row. Looking around at the arena of fans around her, (Y/N) truthfully couldn't believe the energy. It was decidedly much different than any concert she had ever attended, even to ones she'd been to at this exact venue. 

There was almost something slightly aggressive about the audience with the differing sides mingling together, along with pints of alcohol and greasy food. There were costumed attendees complete with wild wigs and painted faces sat beside those with determined faces and brains full of the rulebook. Of course there were those like H, just excited to be there and hopeful for their favorite team, and those like her, there because someone they cared about wanted to be in attendance. 

Going lower and lower in the bowl, Harry finally stopped over a handful of rows away from the green. Pulling her to stand beside him, he pointed at a pair of vacant seats a few people in. 

"Those two, right there. I'll be right behind you," he murmured into her ear, urging her on with a hand on her back. 

Going ahead without a word, (Y/N) apologized as she skirted her way by those already sat down. She couldn't help the frown that plucked her features when the crowd around them erupted into cheers for no apparent reason. It spiked her anxiety, feeling as if they were missing something important, even if (Y/N) didn't really have any real interest in any of the events taking place this evening. 

Settling into her seat, she waited for Harry to join her with wide eyes. As soon as he caught the way she was looking at him, a small smile touched his cheeks. 

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he uttered, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his head.��

"There's..." she trailed off, emphasizing her point with her eyes scanning around the stadium, "so much." 

"I know, right?" he muttered, a giddy undertone to his words, "'S exciting." 

"Something like that," she smiled, happy to see how excited he was to be here. 

"It'll be more fun when the match starts," he insisted, "Everyone settles down a little." 

"When does it start?" (Y/N) asked, watching as the jumbo screen above the field went through an advertisement for the cheese sticks available at the concession stand. If she wasn't turned off by the mess of a line they'd seen, she would be asking Harry if they could grab an order of the fried cheese. 

Harry hummed, checking his phone. "Not for another forty-five minutes." 

Just as he spoke, just a couple of rows ahead of them, a pair of strangers began loudly arguing about some statistics she had no context for. 

This was going to be a long forty-five minutes. 

—————

Shooting to her feet, (Y/N) followed Harrys cue as he cheered. She wasn't exactly sure what for, considering she didn't see any of the players make a goal, but she would just have to ask about those rules later. For now, she clapped and cheered with him, watching from the corner of her eye for when he took his seat again. 

When the crowd settled once more, Harry held a giddy smile on his face, nose pinkened by the time in the sun. As much as this match wasn't her cup of tea, seeing him having fun the way he was definitely made up for some of the discomfort and how lost she was rules-wise. 

Leaning over the armrest with her mouth hovering by his ear, she asked the same question she'd already posed periodically through the match, "Good?" 

"Really good, pretty!" he answered in a chirp, "We've got the ball now." 

"Ohhh," she sounded. It was news to her that their preferred team didn't have the ball already. 

The ball was nothing more than a black and white spot going across the green while colorful jerseys followed after. The audience was raptured, almost caught in silence while the plays were made, but (Y/N) was much more interested in watching Harry. 

While he wasn't completely committed to watching any and every game that came on the television, she could tell being here was especially exciting for him. It made her excited about the game just seeing how much it meant to him; she was this close to grabbing a jersey to keep at his house for the nights she spent over. 

She couldn't help but to angle herself as close as possible to him despite the armrest separating them, leaving her arm pressed flush against his. Harry didn't even glance at her before he was lifting that same arm and dropping it around her shoulders, keeping her close. 

"Thank you for coming with me, sweetheart," he murmured into her ear, his voice clear over the rush of the crowd. A delicate kiss was placed on her temple, his lips warmer than even the sun's rays on the grass. 

She beamed up at him, admiring the angles of his features. The height of his cheekbones, the line of his sun kissed nose, the length of his curling lashes. Her man. 

"Thank you for bringing me," she said, craning her neck just enough to press her lips to the stubbled cheek. 

She could feel the dip of his dimple underneath her lips as he smiled.

Just then, a seemingly important goal was made. Harry pulled her to stand up and cheer with him, his hands over his head with the rest of the excitable crowd. 

"Did you see that!?" Harry yelled, eyes wide and smile broad. 

Of course she didn't. She was busy kissing on her boyfriend, she wasn't watching the match. 

Nonetheless, seeing him smile made it that much easier for her to do the same. "That was crazy!" 

His expression—bright eyes with a wide smile, his cheeks holding a pinkened glow—was well worth her little fib. 

—————

"That's gonna look really cute on you, sweetheart." 

(Y/N)'s beaming smile was directed up at Harry, looking at the colorful jersey he'd purchased for her. It was truthfully not her color, and the fit was going to be something she was going to have to fight to style to her liking, but it was Harry's favorite player. More than anything, this was for him, something she was going to keep at his home for the night she would spend in his bed. 

"You think so?" she chirped, looking up at him with bright eyes. Maybe her words were a bit of a ploy, fishing for some compliments. Could anyone blame her? Hearing softened words wrapped up in his voice, all while he was looking at her, was all too easy to become addicted to. 

"I know so, love," he smiled, quickly casting his eyes to the line of cars slowly moving ahead of them, "Gonna wear it tonight?" 

Her smile turned a bit sheepish as his voice drawled around the question. "I can, if you want." 

When she peeked at him from the corner of her eye, she saw the way his eyes dropped to the jersey in her lap back up to the line of her profile. There was a shade to his gaze now, something warming through the green of his irises as he looked at her. The raspberry of his lips was slicked over by the top of her tongue just before his attention was called back to the windscreen. 

"I want." 

The breathy laugh that fell from her lips was just as dazed as it was spurred on by the butterflies awakening in her stomach. "I can do that." 

Harry hummed, reaching over to place his palm against her thigh. Traffic finally began to shift from the stop and go lock the car park was caught in, into a slow crawl, leaving his eyes fixed on the windshield instead of on his pretty girl. Instinctively, she angered her body towards him, settling her palm atop his hand. 

The dimple in his cheek was his only acknowledgment of her move. "Did y'really have fun today, love?" 

"I did," she chirped, bouncing in her seat, "I don't think I really get it still, but it was so fun to see all of the people. It made me excited even though I didn't really know what for." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, glancing at her as he shifted into the flow of traffic, "'M happy y'had fun. I know 's not really your thing, but it means a lot that y'came with me. Thank you, pretty girl." 

This time, the warming pit in her stomach flushed away into something delicate, full of cotton candy clouds and saccharine threads. She was sure her eyes were practically hearts at this point, trained right on him.

"You always come to me with all of my favorite stuff, so I'm happy we did something for you today. You had fun today, right?"

"So much, baby. I always have fun with you." 

She could have melted right into the leather of her seat if not for his hand on her thigh holding her together. 

"I always have fun with you, too," she murmured, reaching across the center console until she had her lips pressed to his cheek. It was a lingering touch, something she was well aware she needed to cut short given the cars racing outside the windows, but she couldn't help but to take her time. The stubble under her kiss prickled against her lips, against the tip of her nose. "I love you." 

As she settled back into her spot, Harry's grip tightened on her leg. "Pretty, I can't pull over right now." 

Blinking at him, she sounded, "Huh?" 

He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Y'can't act like that—kissing on me and whispering—when I've got to keep us safe. 'S not fair, I want to kiss you, too." 

Biting back a smile, she wrapped her fingers around his clenching palm. "Just find a shoulder or something," she suggested, "Or, I'm sure we'll get to a red light at some point." 

He seemed to consider the former suggestion for a moment, eyes glancing out the windscreen to the lanes before them. After a moment, he shook his head. "I'll save it for when we're home. Are y'spending the night?" 

"I can if you want." 

"I want." 

This time, she couldn't help but let out a full, bubbling laugh. His response was quick—too quick to hide anything. "Are we still stopping for dinner?" she asked, despite knowing the likely answer. 

"No." 

Maybe she was missing the feel of his stubbled cheek, or she was teasing him just a little, but she couldn't help but to lean across and press another kiss to his cheek. 

His hand on her thigh moved in an instant, landing on the back of her neck in a weighty press. 

"Pretty." 

"Sorry," she giggled, pulling away though Harry's hand stayed just where it was on the back of her neck, "I'll stop." 

The sunburned glow to his nose and cheeks was only emboldened by the flush touching the cream of his skin. "Y'better, love. Y'like being good for me, right?" 

It was her turn to feel the warmth, the pad of his thumb skating over the column of her throat. "Yeah. Sorry, H." 

He gave one more lingering pulse of his fingers before his palm dragged down the curve of her throat and the length of her arm until it was back in her lap. "It's alright, sweetheart. Jus' save it for m'bedroom. And your new little shirt."

Who was she to turn down a plan like that? 

Maybe, they were going to have to start going to more of these matches. Especially if they ended like this.

—————

ive missed my king Prosecco:( I really hope everyone enjoys how this turned out! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if theres anything fun you want to share send them in!!!!!

[seaweedstarshine]

#this is lovely 🥰#I raise you 13/mels or fugitive Doctor/mels tho 👀 (tags via @jennyandvastraflint )

Mels says she’s a weapon, trained and conditioned for one purpose. She ditched a place called Leadworth when her tech detected Artron energy, because she couldn't miss a chance to kill the Doctor.

The Doctor doesn’t intend to die, but Mels seems sad, so she listens.

To stories of crushing loneliness, of escaping terrible places, of parents who mustn't know they’re her parents…

Of memory-tampering from her handlers, leaving her more frightened each time.

That one hits home.

The Doctor wishes she could trade her own stories, but Mels is a tank filled with secrets; bursting open in the presence of a perceived stranger. Anyone could see she has drowned alone for too long.

The last thing she needs is someone to kill.

He knows her as soon as he sees her.

Time Lords always do — when they’re looking. And by Rassilon, he has been looking. Afraid of what he’ll find. Afraid he can’t both save Pond’s baby and the naughty friend he loves.

He didn't recognize the child, but then, he hadn’t yet felt how time courses through River's veins. But now — now he can see.

Mels. Melody. The only water in the forest. His bespoke psychopath. His convicted murderer lover, intact. He failed to save the child.

A smile floods his face, and he runs towards her with open arms.