#there are No Kids at all did people forget how to fuck too
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almuerzo fluff
(husband!miguel x pregnant!reader)
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what’s happens when people find out about you? about your kids. idk but i had this idea so just bare (bear?) with me. writing on iphone and computer-- there's some spanish in there. i don' t practice all that often since i left home so excuse any off translation
tw: swearing, angst if you squint, no proofreading
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guards, hq doesn’t need ‘em. mainly because they have thousands of spidermen swinging around, ready to save. unfortunately those spidermen aren’t always the most aware when it comes to being in hq. considering you somehow managed to slip past them.
you, with a toddler on your hip and a basket of food in your hand combined with your intensely slow walking. you would expect to atleast have some hassle getting through the doors.
you were so close too, just one more hallway until you could have lunch in peace with your husband. unfortunately some spiders get nosy. some spiders try to detain you, take your kid from you, call over other spiders, and rummage through your food.
of course this doesn’t go without protest.
“ma’am who are you? and where did you get this kid? to what do you have business here?”
“give me back my kid.” you respond struggling against the grasp of a…dinosaur? no im just kidding, yet another peter parker.
“we have no way of knowing that she is yours.”
crying and kicking coming from your daughter, gabriella. “get away! get away! i want mommy!” she screams, trying her best to now push past the crowds to get to you. a spider picks her up, beginning to take her away.
“get your hands off my kid!” you say, as tears prick your eyes. finally struggling free and, slowly, running to grab gabriella. picking her up and holding her in your arms. “it’s okay honey, mommy’s here.”
wiping her tears you turn to face the group, looking around you notice your once perfectly made up lunch with all the food for a family of 5 (your husbands a big eater…) was now strewn across the floor.
“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you shout, covering your daughters ears, slowly rocking her. you hear a spider call the boss, your husband. how unfortunate for the group.
“we don’t know who you are, if you’re dangerous, what you’re doing here!”
“i’m pregnant, with my daughter, carrying a basket of food to my husband! how is that dangerous?!”
“well we-“ cut off my the stomping you know so well and the yelling you could never forget.
you could hear him, saying that “if it was something stupid he’d fire all of them.” that “if the woman was dangerous why didn’t they call him sooner?"
as he approaches you see his eyes widen and his body relax. he lets out a sigh. he easily makes his way through the masses, a path paved for him, through the sea of people.
the crowd watches in awe as he picks up the little girl. "hola mi princesa. ¿como estas?" he says softly as he wipes any excess tears from gabriella's eyes.
"papa they were s-so mean to mommy."
"i know baby, i'm sorry you had to go through that," he replies, glaring over at the, now, cowering and slightly shocked, group of spiders. he turns to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. "¿qué pasó, mi amor? pensé que venías a almorzar."
"yeah, well that's not what they thought. nuestra comida está arruinada," you hang your head in annoyance.
"i know, but luckily we have a food court, although nothing is better than your food," he lifts your face, sighing and turning around.
"what the hell is your problem? putos cabrones, THAT'S MY WIFE. idiots," he yells, still holding gabriella. who has now fallen asleep in her dads arms.
"s-sir we didn't know." a brave spider spoke up.
he rolls his eyes, resting his free hand on his hip. "and you think a pregnant lady, with her daughter, and a basket of food is really a threat? why did i hire such morons?!" he exclaims.
he turns towards you, putting on a sweet expression with a soft smile. "c'mon mami, let's go get some food." turning around once more he yells one last times.
"you all, pick up this mess and meet me in my office in two hours." everyone could pick up the sinister tone in his voice, it wasn't hard to miss.
"mi héroe," you say, and you all walk towards the food court. although when you have a group of teen spiders wandering around the building who are a little too obsessed with heir bosses personal lives, you don't get much privacy.
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alright what do we think? also yes mahagony pt 2 is coming but honestly i haven' t had any motivation to start pt 2 yet. so sorry to those waiting. i woke up at 5 am and suddenly had the urge to make this so heres hoping we all like it
#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#spiderman#miguel fanfic#miguel ohara#spider man 2099#miguel 2099#atsv miguel#might delete later
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Is Evie canon to the Yours Truly universe? I absolutely love her already, and I can only imagine the kind of hell she put poor Nel through growing up. Al would be so proud. Good on Nel for starting a law firm, too! That’s our queen!!!
But also the general heartbreak that Nel must have felt as every day Evie looked a little bit more like the man Nel thought she knew. Just looking at her daughter one day only to see someone completely different but so familiar staring back. :(
I’m also so curious how the realization that Nel was pregnant went down. Not well probably. Was it before or after Al died? How would Al have reacted if he was alive (He very clearly didn’t want kids). How on earth would he have behaved around a pregnant Nel?? Also not well probably.
And of course I can’t forget about the extended family. Where’s Grace, my beloved, in all of this??? The absolute agent of chaos that she is, she and Evie would cause so much havoc — I just know it. And I can’t tell if Marie would be ecstatic up in heaven or rolling around in her grave at the news lol. I’m assuming by this point in time she’d have passed away, but to know she just missed the big news — damn. Poor Grandma Marie. Nobody thought Al had it in him 😔
Sorry for the giant block of text lol. I adore Evie and she’s got my brain in overdrive rn. Your writing is amazing, and Yours Truly is genuinely such a wonderful read! Also don’t feel pressured to answer any of the questions if you don’t want to or if it’s spoiler territory — I just had to get all that off my chest :)
Stay safe out there and take care of yourself!!
No PLEASE send me asks about Evie I fucking love her and barely ever get to talk about her because I've kept her so private for so long!
Evie is "canon" to Yours Truly but not in the way you might think. She is never going to be born, she doesn't exist, but she will eventually have a small cameo in a later chapter. The rest is a mysteryyyyyyy for now. However, I love thinking about the au where she's alive since I LOVE family drama and angst.
The girl is a menace. She's a strange mix of Darla Dimple, Jessica Lovejoy, and Heather Chandler but also can be oddly endearing? There’s a strange innocence to her. Yes, she did stab that man but she hugs her momma extra tight when that haunted look comes over her face. There are a lot of layers to the silly gay girl that VERY few people will ever see let alone notice and process.
If Al was around for Nel actually being knocked up and aware of it, he'd be annoyingly overbearing. 100% he'd treat her like she's made of glass even though she's trying to bite his throat out for being so condescending. It would be a giant clusterfuck of Nel randomly crying cuz her hormones are raging and she’s too big to bend over and buckle her shoes, and then Alastor is staring at her like she’s insane because it’s Nel, crying. They’d make it work though. Well, in another universe at least, because in the drabble-I-posted-verse uuuhh….he wasn’t really around to know that he has a child kicking around on earth.
But heeeeey she and Grace are BFFS! They definitely gang up on Nel together while she smokes 28 packs of cigs with a thirst for blood in her eyes. Little shits of a feather flock together.
If Marie was around, she would SPOIL that child. Her only grandchild, and a little girl??? Whatever Evie desired Marie would deliver and you wouldn’t be able to tell that child no without her granny defending her. It’s probably for the best that they never met since Evie would be worse than she already is.
Thanks for asking more about her cuz I like to yap :D I can't really say too too much since I don't wanna accidentally spoil YT, but man do I adore this strange child of whimsy.
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playing we happy few lately and Damn i should have played this sooner
#it’s not perfect by any means but still i’m HOOKED#like the gameplay’s alright just ye ol’ run around doing quests upgrade your dude do some stealth w/e#nothing that hasn’t been done before except maybe the like#‘blending in’ stuff where you have to act and dress a certain way to fit the situation otherwise you get beat up#but it’s mostly the story that’s getting me like Basically#you’re bri’ish and the uk once lost a war to germany and then every child in the uk was sent away to germany#the people complied because the germans threatened them with tanks so they willingly surrendered their kids#germans never explained what would happen to the kids & all#everyone felt super guilty and depressed about this whole thing But around the same time a drug called joy was introduced#and it basically just… makes you happy and productive and induces memory loss#So joy was pushed on the population as like The Thing You Must Take and now everyone’s just hooked on it#forced to take it. don’t remember the children. happily swallowing any propaganda about the war.#now there’s people who either refuse to take joy or can’t handle it and they’re shunned and left to die in wastelands#Anyway. you’re a guy who had a disabled brother you were basically the caretaker of who was sent away to germany#and you were supposed to go with him too but No Spoilers you didn’t and you feel fucking bad about it so#you set out to find him or at least learn what happened to him and as you’ve stopped taking joy you start remembering more about your past#and Oh it’s. i wanna know more i wanna discover what happened to the kids and to the brother#who’s behind the joy shit maybe what state other countries are in#Also. why nobody in the entire fucking country has had new children since…. i mean god dam#there are No Kids at all did people forget how to fuck too#that’s not sustainable for the population bro shinzo abe would have hated this game
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also it really is shit how several popular bloggers were like. Horribly bigoted towards ace people when it was cool, but once it stopped being trendy they 1) deleted those posts so receipts couldn't be pulled 2) maybe put up claimed "redactions" or said "omg its been years if you really wanna know wether i still hate those people dm me" but never apologized for their behavior lmao. I don't think any of the people who did that actually changed, I just think they know it's not such an acceptable/fun target to bully anymore. It's really sick how that type of bullying was encouraged for years and how few people repented for their behavior.
#cipher talk#H*stlerose and lgbt*nis in particular come to mind#x***guiw*ng too tbh#They did a weird heel turn of being normal about ace people to insinuating most ace people are homophobic and self centered#And that believing a society which strictly controls your sex life doesn't like you not having sex and may punish you is a 'white thing'#As though the pressures around sex are not MORE strongly felt by PoC#I don't wanna say 'imagine if there was a mass movement of people who said they hated gay men and homophobia wasn't real and they never#Apologized or faced consequences' bc I know that exists. It's on Twitter and it's why I'm cagey around how people on tumblr say f*g#(I do mean like other lgbtq people tbc)#But like it's ridiculously fucked up that it happened. That people allowed it. That most people have forgotten about it either bc#They were targeted or bc they did the targeting#Remember when a real human being who had recently come out as ace was murdered for rejecting a man and people turned her into a fucking#Discourse topic? And posted decapitation photos claiming they were of her in tags about ace people/spread rumors about that?#I do. I fucking do.#Remember all the discussions about how 'denying your partner sex' was abuse? How ace people were p*dos for forcing discussions of sexuality#Onto kids? How wanting non alcoholic non sex forward spaces- something ND people and addicts also discussed- became a fucking crime?#Because ace people also thought it was cool?#Like g-d I know this was painful and I'm not saying we should do discourse again but forgetting all that isn't helpful either
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Kim Kardashian is not, never was, and never will be a victim.
#ppl bitching about her still being salty over the phone call an Kim's role in everything that came because of it#like you wouldn't be still seething too#why does Taylor have to be the better person tho? put the other cheek and such#no fucking way#she's making sure no one forgets how kim is not a girls girl#we no longer forgive people who aren't sorry and don't apologize#hey i might actually forgive all those middle school girls who would say i was anorexic & are the reason i still cant wear shorts in public#cause they were kids back then#we were kids#I'll probably never be able to let it go cause it's just taken so much from me#BUT KIM KARDASHIAN WAS A FULL GROWN FUCKING ADULT AND A WIFE AND A MOTHER#and you couldn't possibly say she didn't know better#taylor swift#awkwardifying life#honestly they might not be really on bad terms anymore but i feel like kim would definitely act like she's above apologizing and skip it#no bitch you caused real substantial harm and now look. she's got the power to take everything from you#the people you stepped on on your way up? they still can't get rid of the stains#kim kardashian#but honestly it hurts more than what Kanye did because he had a very evident condition even at that point#kim knew better than to stoop to that level#and then kims name dropping her like nothing even happened#now you're switching up your behavior kim#i know there's a parallel to katy perry here but katy was in fact the bigger person in the end#idk i get riled up about it still#yes swifties have issues letting go#and yes we're reasonably vindictive#Taylor's current success? you know for a fact there's a big portion of us just consuming her stuff mostly so scooter cries himself to sleep
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Wedded Bliss
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader
Summary: The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.
Warnings: 18+. Dubcon. Corruption kink. Virginity loss. Arranged marriage between enemies. Brat taming. Breeding kink. Beefy, mob boss Bucky devolving into a fall-to-his-knees-just-to-fuck-you kind of horny mess.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
You kissed him and wished him dead in the same breath. You said ‘I do’ and meant ‘I don’t,’ exchanged your vows like your own last rites, and felt him slip the ring on your finger as if he’d just tightened a noose around your neck.
You didn’t want to be a bride, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be the bride to Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.
Frankly, you were mortified.
And terrified, too, now that you knew your groom might actually kill you in the kitchen of your honeymoon suite.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”
“I walked down the aisle, didn’t I?”
Another plate went crashing on the wall behind your husband’s head just as he managed to duck. He side-stepped a spray of porcelain and glass and probably crushed several hundred shards beneath his polished black oxfords when he walked—stalked—over to you.
You’d just reared back to hurl a serving plate at his face when you found your speed swiftly outmatched. Bucky had your elbow gripped between his forefinger and thumb in less than a second, and, pinching the bone like he might readily break it, he said, even as always,
“Put it down.”
You did as he told you and dropped the platter to the floor with a crash.
Rather than berate you for the broken china—or the four other pieces before it—your husband only smiled.
“Are we done?”
Hell, you wanted to be. Slide over a pen and a one-way plane ticket to someplace in BFE, and you’d be signing those divorce papers in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, your dear husband was just referring to the temper tantrum.
You weren’t totally sure if you were finished on that front, so you looked him up and down and shrugged.
“Now darling—” he started.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Light of my life—”
“I’ll kill you.”
Your cool, level-headed groom took each gibe like it was his sworn duty, and only when he yanked your wrists behind your back and shoved you toward the bedroom door did you sense that he might not be too pleased with your behavior.
Your knees struck the edge of the California King at the center of the room, and before you could will yourself not to fall face-first, Bucky nudged you hard again.
Still pinning your hands behind you, he followed your collapse on the bed and leaned over your prone body.
His breaths were hot on your ear; you could tell he was smiling as he started to hike your dress up your legs.
“It’s all part of the deal, doll.”
You wriggled under his hold and tried to angle yourself better to see him, hoping he’d see your scowl.
“The deal was to get married,” you reminded him.
“Mhmm,” Bucky hummed, just then starting to trail a finger up the uncovered skin of your calf with his other hand, “And what is it that married people do?”
You kicked your foot reflexively, paused, then said,
“Fight. Constantly. Probably resent each other for the better part of two decades before we finally decide that ‘making it work’ for the kids isn’t worth it at all, and I claim half of everything you own in a bitter divorce.”
That earned a chuckle from Bucky. He kept his roaming hand brushing up the back of your thigh and squeezed the flesh just below the swell of your rear.
“Don’t worry, my lawyer drafted a pretty good prenup.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but then he was tracing the contour of your ass with his palm, and you cut yourself short. Bucky carried on, careless as ever.
“But the kids you mentioned,” he said, “How are we supposed to get those?”
You pursed your lips and tried hard not to move when his fingers drifted inward—you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. The bottom of your dress was bunched around your hips now, leaving you sorely exposed. Had your bridesmaids not thrust that stupid white lingerie set upon you hours before the wedding, you probably would’ve chosen something a little more modest than a thong. But here you were.
At least the sight seemed appealing to your husband, whose eyes hadn’t left you once while his hands grew even hungrier to feel your warmth.
“I’m hoping a sperm donor or one of your double-crossing mobster friends will knock me up, honestly,” you said, feigning enthusiasm at the thought.
A tart slap delivered to your ass told you that Bucky hadn’t found that funny. After, he started kneading the skin a bit harder.
“No shot,” he shook his head, suddenly gliding his fingers down closer to your core and waiting for you to say something in protest, “Only one that’s gonna be pumping this thing full of babies is me, I promise.”
It was like he wanted your retaliation, whether that be by a thinly veiled look of disgust or a reactionary jab of your own. You weren’t keen on fulfilling any wish of his, but at this point, you felt you had no other choice. When you sensed he was distracted by the newly-discovered heat between your legs and had loosened his grip on your wrists, you flipped yourself over on the bed. Shoved at his chest before he knew what to do with himself.
Of course, the push didn’t send him far, but it was enough to get his attention—and his hands off of you.
“I’m not having your babies, Barnes! I am never going to fuck you, no matter how long we stay fake married,” you spat.
At that, Bucky just raised his eyebrows and wet his lips. You were cramming your wedding dress back into place, glaring at him the whole time, and were scarcely more aware of the bright, teeming city outside the window than you were of your husband’s own growing erection.
Finally, you’d said it. His new wife wouldn’t fuck him. The sound of your resistance was almost a pleasure unto itself, and the longer you stared at Bucky with growing contempt and resolve not to do that thing, the more determined he became to make it happen.
Cat-and-mouse games had long been a staple in his life, and he was pleased to see them carry into his marriage as well. Surely if he’d triumphed in every pursuit for the last twenty years—facing the likes of some seriously execrable bandits and racketeers—he could take on a bratty woman less than half his size. You said you didn’t want his babies now, but just wait until he’d fucked you full of his cum once or twice. You’d be begging him for it in no time at all, and shortly thereafter, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant as many times as he liked. Always swollen with one of his children and whining for more.
The woman before him now had a murderous glint in her eyes, but he could fuck that away easy. In fact, he would live to do it. He traced the outline of your thigh over your dress and smiled when you tried not to recoil.
“Surely you didn’t think we’d be finger-painting and reading poetry to each other on our wedding night, hm?” he asked, almost delicately.
“Thought you might have one of your other women lined up,” you snorted. When you tried to move away, Bucky pinched your leg to make you stay. You winced.
“That’s not funny,” he said, a little more consternation in his tone. Like he actually cared whether you thought him a profligate Lothario or not, “Now that we’re married, it’s only you and me. No mistresses, nothing.”
Yeah, and he was just as likely arriving to your marital bed a blushing virgin. You rolled onto your side and pretended not to feel him tighten his grip as you did.
“Try the carnal part of our marriage yourself and I’m sure you’ll find I’m an exceptional fuck,” Bucky continued, speaking low as he stroked the chiffon of your dress.
You didn’t doubt the man was good—certainly the extent of his sexual escapades as a twenty-something seemed to demand it—but exceptional? No fucking way. You knew men like Bucky, with the world and every walking pair of tits at their fingertips, and almost all were incurably selfish. Cocky. The kind to jackhammer a woman for three consecutive minutes, roll over, and say, ‘Did you cum?’
No, there was not a snowball’s chance in hell your husband’s sexual prowess was even half as good as he claimed it was. Deciding to bite your tongue for the first time that night, though, you just stared at him blankly.
What you didn’t know was that your silence only stoked the flames of his ego, prompting him to press the matter further.
“What? You think I can’t fuck?” he said, “Any woman lucky enough to bed me has cum at least twice. Every time.”
Sure they did, Bucky, you wanted to say, but were suddenly drawn into his lap before you could speak.
“But let’s pretend I can’t,” he said, heedless of the face you made as soon as you were straddling his hips, “You wouldn’t let your husband prove himself tonight?”
“I don’t fuck strangers.”
Bucky smiled at that.
“Everyone’s a stranger until you get to blow them, honey,” he teased, squeezing your hips when you didn’t seem amused at all. Then you let out a cry, feeling yourself thrown back on the mattress like a rag doll while Bucky moved off.
Before you knew it, he was tugging your ankles down the length of the bed and widening his stance just a bit. He stopped pulling once your knees were grazing his black dress pants and your feet were dangling off of the bed.
“You like skylines?” he asked.
You frowned and raised a brow that he was quick to interpret as a ‘yes.’ He hauled you onto your feet.
“‘Course you do. All pretty girls like pretty skies,” he rattled on, strolling with you step-by-step to the set of French doors at the end of the room.
Bucky led you out to the balcony. The air was warm as it ever was, dull gusts of the evening wind curling up from the coastline below. Just as your husband had promised, the skyline of Santorini greeted you on either side, and you had to admit, it was more than just pretty. The views from your villa were absolutely breathtaking.
You stood with your back to Bucky, hands resting on the marble balustrade, and you felt him there, behind you. You didn’t bother to tilt your head when he drew even closer.
“What do you like most about it?” The question was simple enough, punctuated with a kiss on your shoulder. Your eyes scanned the horizon, the sea, even the quiet little streets down beneath, and you racked your brain trying to think of an answer that might satisfy him.
Before you could, though, you sucked in a breath when you felt your dress start to come undone at your back.
Bucky was unzipping your gown, gentle as ever, and probably grinning from ear to ear as he watched you shift uncomfortably in place and try to hold the material above your breasts where it had been fastened all day. Presently, you kicked your heel backward and hoped it would land somewhere near his balls. You missed.
“James,” you hissed.
Bucky groaned at the sheer intonation of his name on your lips.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why are you undressing me?”
Bucky had successfully dragged the zipper all the way down to your ass, and it seemed he was trying to shimmy the dress off your frame. You held on tight.
“I’d like to fuck my bride over the balcony railing, if that’s alright with you,” he answered truthfully.
The man was nothing if not blunt and crass. You turned around to give him a look, yanking your gown even closer to your chest.
“I’ll— I’ll tell my mother, Barnes.”
You felt stupid as soon as you’d said it—using your go-to threat whenever you were in distress. What were you, eleven?
“Your mother?” Bucky repeated, words steeped in derision, “Last I recall, mommy dearest was practically begging me to get you pregnant at the reception.”
Your jaw clenched, and you internally cursed your whole family. Your parents were supposed to be on your side throughout all of this—it was bad enough they’d pawned you off to a mob boss of unrivaled infamy all to settle a debt, but this? Your mother had assured you just the day before that Mr. Barnes was bound to tire of you within the year. No mention of sex or babies whatsoever.
The same mother who had beat you over the head with the notion of your own virginity since you were old enough to read, the one who had underscored just how important it was to wait for the right man to give yourself body, mind, and soul to, turning around and telling this filthy criminal to have you any way he liked. And knock you up? The fucking nerve of that woman.
You were so preoccupied with thoughts of your own backstabbing family that you hardly felt Bucky drag your dress the rest of the way down your body. It was only when you were completely bare before him, and your husband had just started to skim his lips over your tummy that you tensed with surprise.
“I don’t have to fuck you just yet, doll,” he murmured, having sunk to his knees and only moving lower. Then the corners of his lips twitched, “Least not with my dick.”
You tried to pry his head from between your legs before he could stretch his tongue so much as an inch.
“James!”
Again with that name.
“You know, I love when you call me that, Mrs. Barnes.”
Bucky was peering up at you now, soaking in the sight of your body in a white lace bra, panties, and stockings.
“Is my bride feeling shy?” he teased, gently nipping at your inner thighs.
You weren’t sure what you were feeling in that moment, to be honest. Revulsion, betrayal, arousal, you name it—each crowned with an all-encompassing hatred for the man currently occupying the space between your legs—while a still stronger desire almost hoped he would stay.
“You can hate your husband all you want and still let him tonguefuck you,” Bucky growled against your skin.
Like he’d read your mind.
In reality, your husband hardly needed the powers of telepathy to tell him just how turned on you were; the sopping wet spot in your panties said as much. From his vantage point, Bucky saw the disgust in your eyes slowly eclipsed by lust, and with a single flick of his tongue, he knew he would have you exactly where he wanted you.
“Just let it happen, honey.”
He felt your fingers thread tight through his hair and the first stir of your hips in tandem. One small, delectable whimper crossed your lips, and it took everything in Bucky not to tear your panties straight off with his teeth.
Instead, the man opted for a soft, gentle lick over your clothed slit. Testing the waters.
Your whimper was quick to meld to a moan, and then, just as fast:
“N-no, Bucky.”
To your dismay, his tongue didn’t retreat, only making firmer laps against your centre while his lips grazed the lace. He gripped your thighs and wedged himself deeper, and again, you cursed the paper thin fabric of your panties for letting you feel everything his mouth was doing. He hadn’t even made proper contact with your cunt, and your knees were already starting to shake.
He pressed a kiss above your clit through the flimsy material, and you almost tore a clump of hair from his head.
“No. Please.” You hardly made sense to yourself; it was clear you wanted his touch, but something inside you wasn’t quite ready to submit to the idea that this was all okay. That your husband’s tongue and lips might be meant for something like this, and you didn’t have to feel so guilty for wanting it either. Fucking purity culture.
“My pretty girl,” Bucky presently murmured above the fabric, words sending a dozen little shockwaves in their wake, “My beautiful fucking wife.”
The man inhaled your scent and could’ve sworn he was in ecstasy. Blinded by desire as he was, he really wasn’t bullshitting in the slightest when he gathered you to him and said you were the best; he’d genuinely grown transfixed by the feel of you, in spite of every fibre of his being telling him not to. The marriage was arranged, fake, and fueled by hatred—and somehow, Bucky couldn’t get enough.
Nor could he wait any longer. One light swipe of his finger tugged your panties aside, and then he was latching on, no cover this time, to take your clit between his lips. Sucking hard, going fast, needing it bad.
A moan rang loud in his ears, and your hand on his head was instantly joined by the other. You yanked his hair like you never had before, pulling so tight at the roots as though your pleasure depended on it. Bucky smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue.
“Feel good, baby?” he breathed.
His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions.
You didn’t know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Bucky flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking.
“You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?”
His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the marble and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
Bucky wanted to break that resolve. He brought one hand closer to your entrance.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside. The act surprised your husband almost as much as it did you—not quite, but almost—upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him.
When you whined a loud, protracted, ‘FUCK!’ he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this.
Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Bucky knew you were close.
He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else’s. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
Then, unexpectedly, both were robbed of your touch.
Seized with fear, you shoved Bucky off and stumbled away from his glistening face. You took off toward the doors and fled the balcony before you could think.
“What the f— honey? Honey?!” Bucky sputtered. He bounded after you.
You’d thrown yourself in the master bathroom and locked the door behind you in the blink of an eye. Outside, your husband had only to stare in pure bewilderment and awe, mind reeling at what had just happened.
Fucking hell, he knows. He knows! You collapsed against the door and slid down a couple inches. Your hand reflexively flew to your mouth to stifle the sounds when Bucky began pounding the wood behind you.
“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s—what’s goin’ on?”
In truth, you’d rather chug bleach than divulge the thought that had just scared the everliving fuck out of you back there. It was stupid and senseless and should’ve been frightening you for weeks before it ever came to this, but here you were, panicked in the bathroom of your honeymoon suite because you’d never done this before—and you’d never reached climax in your life without bursting into tears.
Fuck, you felt stupid. How could you think this would be any different—or that Bucky’s tongue wouldn’t eventually attempt to wrest an orgasm out of you?
It’d just felt so good, you thought maybe a new climax brought by someone else’s fingers might free you from the same unsavory demise you’d met a hundred times before, but then it hit you, shortly after Bucky had plunged his fingers inside, you were going to cry.
You winced when Bucky’s knocks grew louder, his voice gaining more ire by the second, it seemed.
“Open the fucking door!”
He’d rake you over the coals for this. Getting so close to what he wanted, only to have his silly little bride snatch it all away and run hiding in the en-suite bathroom? Your stomach turned at the thought of what men in the mob were liable to do with women like you—what Bucky might conceivably do now that you’d sparked his rage.
Your eyes darted to the window just as his fist shook the doorframe behind you. You ran over to the tub, tucked squarely beneath the windowsill, and climbed onto it just to get a hold of the fastenings around the glass.
One click synchronized with the furious cadence being hammered on the door, and just as you started to slide the pane up the way, a heavy thud sounded outside. The weight of your husband’s body being thrust against the door, most likely.
You bit your lip and lifted one leg over the windowsill, shuffling your body even closer to the outside world.
Three floors up! Have you lost your mind? You could hear your father’s words ringing in your skull already. There was a ledge, you reasoned, no more than ten feet below, if you could just grab hold of the frame right there and slide down the cool stone you might—
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned.
You watched your husband heave through the busted door of the bathroom, wide eyes and a ‘Here’s Johnny’ flourish raging hot on his face. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you started to lower yourself out of the window, hoping desperately for that ledge below to be sturdy. But before you could make it even half of the way there, strong arms were circling your frame and yanking you back inside, hurtling straight into the bathtub with Bucky tumbling over you.
“What are you doing?!” he roared.
You wriggled under his weight, petrified of the fiery look in his eyes as he lurched over your frame.
He straightened up just enough to shake you by the shoulders—like a parent reprimanding a child.
“What the fuck was that?! Huh? You think that’s fucking funny, jumping out windows?”
No, no, not funny, you wanted to bite back, but found your mouth dry and unable to speak. When Bucky shook you again, you had only to whimper a pathetic sound.
The man was enraged. Stubble still damp with your juices and looking undeniably frazzled and spent, he drew closer to your face and demanded you look at him. When he took hold of your cheeks in both hands, the command couldn’t have reached you any more clearly.
“What— what was that for?” his voice lowered as he tried to catch his breath. You still couldn’t move.
“I-I don’t—” you stopped and hardly knew how to say it:
Sorry to cut our tonguefucking session short, I was just afraid I might burst into a fit of uncontrollable tears while you licked and sucked me through the best orgasm of my life. I’d rather jump off, or out of, a building than tell my mob boss husband that I can’t cum without crying. By the way, I’m a virgin!
Instead, you just blinked and stared back at him.
“Can’t…do it,” you murmured.
Bucky’s expression only grew more puzzled by the words out of your mouth. He squeezed your face tighter and leaned in even closer.
“Do what? Sex? Fuck, I— I didn’t mean to be that aggressive, hell, I’m sorry.” He stopped to run a hand through his hair, and for the first time, you could’ve sworn you saw the first glint of compunction in his eyes.
He looked away a few seconds, as if collecting what fragmented thoughts he could, then brought his head back down to your level and took your hands in his.
“Honey?” he tried getting your attention, just barely above a whisper now, “I know the whole thing’s fucked, I know.”
That was the understatement of the century. To your surprise, Bucky’s gaze softened when he saw a scowl cross your face.
“We don’t…have to do anything. I was just pushing your buttons earlier. Being a dick.”
His tongue moved to wet his lips once more, this time without the seductive, smug demeanor he usually wore and simply exhibiting discomfort. He swallowed. The bow tie around his neck appeared to him to be fastened far too tight all of a sudden, and then, haphazardly, he started clawing at the garment to get it off.
You didn’t know why you felt compelled to help. It was like all ten fingers just lifted of their own accord to join Bucky’s hands in trying to undo his tie.
The silk fabric wasn’t tied, but knotted, crudely and inflexibly, beneath the little black bow. You frowned. Still unable to meet his gaze as you worked your fingers under the tangled material and tried to pretend like the two of you weren’t still sweating profusely from the events that had just transpired—both the tonguefucking and the window-jumping.
“Who tied this, a five-year-old?” you muttered.
“I’m thirty-eight, thanks,” Bucky returned just as quietly.
Both of you indulged in a smile that lasted no longer than a second, but you felt the tension ease a little.
This was not where you thought your dreaded wedding night was headed before. Curled up in a bathtub with your hands around your husband’s neck—and not actually trying to kill him—while Bucky blinked almost nervously the longer your hands lingered on his collar. It seemed he’d found something especially tantalizing on the wall behind your head, because his stare remained fixed on that spot the whole time you fiddled with his tie.
Maybe that, along with the last ebb of alcoholic influence from the reception still coursing through your veins, had emboldened you to come right out and say it while Bucky was looking away. You couldn’t be sure.
“I’ve never had sex before.”
At last, the tie loosened a little.
Bucky flicked his gaze back to yours in a second.
“What?”
You lifted a brow, wondering if he really needed an explanation as to what it meant to have never gotten laid before, but you decided against indulging him any further. Bucky seemed keen on doing that all by himself.
“You’re a virgin?”
You nodded.
“Didn’t my overbearing mother make sure you knew?”
“Yeah, I thought she was full of shit,” Bucky answered bluntly. Then, catching sight of the semi-offended look in your eye, mixed with a tad more amusement than indignation, he added, “I mean— I didn’t think you’d, uh, wanna wait…twenty-five years for some action.”
He winced when he realized that sounded just as bad. His throat cleared shortly to make way for a new attempt at comity, but you cut him off, shaking your head as you finally got the knot to untangle.
“No, I get it. I don’t know why I waited this long either,” you shrugged.
As soon as you’d freed him from his bow tie, you started to stand from the bath tub. Bucky, too, straightened to his full height and started to close the window while you walked back to the bedroom.
You eyed the rose petals strewn across the duvet and felt a little more relaxed this time around. The weight of the V-word had been lifted from your shoulders, and now you had only to share the crying-while-cumming stuff to Bucky later on. Much later on, you hoped.
You crawled onto the bed and stretched out on your belly, playing with the soft red petals and wondering if room service was still offered at this hour.
Bucky had just stepped out of the bathroom when he halted at the threshold. Saw your body sprawled out on the bed, back arched and ass pointed in the air as you reached over for the phone on the nightstand. He stared for a second too long and felt a familiar stir in his pants.
Sonovabitch, he started to think, before chiding himself silently, Shut up, man, she’s a virgin. Be cool. Be cool—don’t make her jump out a window again.
He ducked back in the bathroom and eased the door to just a crack while you discovered a voice on the line:
“Hi! Hey, I’d like to order room service to, uh…” your voice trailed off. Then, covering the mouthpiece, “James, what’s our room number?”
Inside the bathroom, Bucky squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of his name. Already palming his erection through his dress pants as he leaned against the wall.
“We rented the whole building, dear,” he called back.
“Oh.” He could just imagine the slight pout on your lips as you spoke. Then you asked if he wanted anything to eat, Bucky thought only of the sweet nectar between your legs, and he answered aloud, no, he was fine, really.
For the first time in his life, the man felt positively ashamed he was about to rub one out in a bathroom, alone. It wasn’t like this was the first it had ever been done, but now there was you, innocent and oblivious in the next room over, while Bucky undid his belt and quietly freed his cock from his dress pants. It felt kind of perverted, in a way, but he knew he needed this release to put his mind at ease and not feel so affected by you.
While you scanned your phone for a menu and chatted with the concierge downstairs about various food items, Bucky was spitting in his hand and fumbling for his shaft. You talked American Wagyu sirloin, lobster thermidor, and seared Faroe Island salmon while he thought achingly about the way your cunt had tasted and how badly he wanted to try it again.
How did he feel about an artisan cheese platter? Bucky hardly had the wits about himself to answer beyond a strangled, ‘Whatever you want, honey’ and a tightened fist around his cock, stroking hard to get the filthy thoughts out of his head before the food arrived.
Ever sweet, soft, supple, and savory—his mind reeled with fresh memories of that place between your thighs, and he almost lurched forward in pleasure.
Your brute of a mob boss husband was irreparably pussy-whipped and hadn’t even fucked you yet. He gripped the bathroom sink beside him and sincerely wished it wasn’t his hand doing the work right now. But of course, he had to be patient, had to be kind—couldn’t force himself on a woman who clearly wasn’t ready.
Again, he spit in his palm and jerked himself fast.
Any minute now, he thought with some relief.
Your feet padded softly into the living room as the pleasure inside him was starting to crest. Still pining for your warmth and the way your legs trembled around his head, Bucky was all but fucking his hand at this point. He’d snagged his bottom lip between his teeth in a lopsided smile and groaned, too low to be heard, and pumped himself even faster for his impending orgasm.
A thought crossed your mind as you stopped ahead of the sofa. You pivoted.
Suddenly, you were skipping back to the bathroom, wanting to know Bucky’s wine preferences before you placed another order.
You barged in and froze.
“Sorry!” you squeaked, darting out just as fast.
Five seconds slower and you probably would’ve seen Bucky blow his load all over the sink. As it was, the man was left sorely at a loss for any form of release and heaving fast, ragged breaths from the colossal scare you’d just given him.
Good fucking going, Buck—your wife wants to cuddle and eat cheese and you’re out here beating your meat.
Bucky shoved himself back in his pants and waited an excruciating minute for the sound of your second window exit of the night. A slammed door, a frantic phone call, a few sobs into your pillow as you realized how dirty and depraved your husband was, anything.
He was only met with silence.
Taking one more shaky breath, Bucky reached for the doorknob and started back out. Cautiously.
The man took his slow, silent leave of the bathroom with his gaze trained toward the doors—half-expecting to see his bride rappelling from the balcony—but then quickly shifted to the bed. Finding you kneeling at the edge.
“James?”
Your voice almost pained.
A word was all it took. Bucky was back on his knees.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted it to go away, honey. I’m sorry.”
Go away? You quirked a brow and couldn’t hold his gaze much longer; just trailed your vision down his torso to his pants, then his erection, still standing prominent as ever.
Bucky struggled to decide whether you were ticked off or intrigued, seeing your eyes make their painful appraisal of his length beneath his pants. Your brow was pinched, but your head was cocked. Almost curious.
“Are you mad at me?” you asked, gaze fixed on the spot.
Immediately, Bucky rose to his feet and crawled back on the bed, seizing your body with both of his hands.
“No! No, not mad at all,” he mumbled as he sidled up beside you. Pleased to see you hadn’t recoiled, “I was just, uh…missing you, ‘s’all.”
If his men could see him now, Bucky was sure he’d be the laughing stock of all the town. Doting and kind, eyes softened beyond recognition, he just watched you and wanted nothing more than to repair the smile that had ebbed from your face. Come ridicule, hell, or high water, the man was infatuated with his bride—all broken plates and attempted window escapes be damned.
Presently, you brought your hand down to his bulge.
Bucky stiffened but didn’t speak. He wanted you to do this on your own, of your own volition.
“You seem kinda mad to me.” You hardly knew what you were doing. Just rubbing his length and hoping it was something he’d like.
Where Bucky had wanted to see you smile, you just wanted to hear him grunt and whine—maybe grab your hips and beg you to do something, please. You’d never felt any such degree of control, and you suspected Bucky had never not felt it himself. You wanted him desperate.
You were playing a dangerous game, you knew it, but something inside those baby blues said he wanted to do it, too. Do anything for you, quite frankly.
You watched the rise and fall of Bucky’s broad chest and stroked his length even softer.
“James.”
“Uh-huh?” His mouth hung open with a gentle grunt, fighting every instinct to buck into your touch.
At last, you squeezed his shaft and prodded him on. Let your head drift closer to his so his lips would graze the apple of your cheek, and just when you sensed he wanted a taste, you tilted your face toward his own,
“We haven’t even kissed since the ceremony.”
Bucky stared blankly at you, enrapt with the pulse of your fingers. You could tell he was aching to move.
“Oh yeah?” he murmured.
You nodded a wordless affirmation and slid sharply back in bed as Bucky lunged after you. Your hands flew from his pants to the plush mattress behind you as you shifted—or, rather, scrambled—back in place and felt your husband climb over you hungrily.
“That what my wife wants?” he murmured, frame slotting tight between your legs.
You nodded again, and had only to suck in a breath before Bucky was devouring your lips. The kind of flushed, frantic, filthy kiss that would’ve doubtlessly wrought looks of horror on every face at your wedding had he grabbed you that way after the declarations of ‘I do’ had been spoken.
You loved him like this, impassioned and a bit unhinged.
His tongue worked his way past your lips and scoured every soft, fleshy inch between the insides of your cheeks before he took your face in his hands, kissing you roughly.
Something hard and throbbing nudged your sex, and suddenly you were whining in his mouth. Wrapping your legs around his waist.
“Ah, honey, don’t,” Bucky groaned, visibly straining to contain himself. When you dug your heels even deeper in his back, the groan that followed from him was hoarse and guttural.
“I thought— I…fuck,” your husband turned his head to curse as you grinded your hips up to his. You had to bite back a smile.
“I just wanna do what married people do,” you murmured coyly, pretending not to see when Bucky shot you the most red-hot, wanton look he’d imparted all evening.
“Yeah?” Like a kid in a candy shop the size of Sears.
Bucky took your face in his hands once more and made sure to scan your expression for any shred of doubt. On finding nothing there, he sat panting, half-disbelieving and half-contemplating all the wretched things he wanted to do to you. You squeezed his sides with your thighs and just hoped your husband knew what to do, because, in truth, you didn’t have the first fucking idea.
A few dry, clinical terms flashed before your mind’s eye, along with your mother’s bleak depiction of what treatment lay in store for a woman on her wedding night, and as Bucky started to work his belt and his pants off, you just hoped he wouldn’t be cruel.
He couldn’t be, right? He’d only mowed down a hundred men and dismembered dozens more, you were told, but surely a set of eyes this soft, caring, and kind couldn’t belong to a monster. You let him lift your hips and shimmy your panties, garter belt, and stockings down your legs, and when he returned, you tried your best not to betray the thoughts in your head.
Bucky hadn’t been with a virgin for as long as he could remember—maybe ever. His own ‘deflowering’ an ancient relic of his boyhood and the multitude of partners since then a mere flurry of nameless faces, he sincerely couldn’t recall a time when he’d asked, or cared, whether the woman beneath him had her cherry intact. He didn’t suppose it could be too different, as he peeled the last pieces of your lingerie set off your body and saw you seemed perfectly ready. He ran a finger between your folds and felt you shiver with what looked like excitement. Piece of cake, he thought, smiling.
No doubt he would take great joy in making you his own. His bride, his wife, an unblemished beacon of light in a life as sordid as his, looked perfect spread before him. You would adjust to his size. Bucky trailed the head of his cock up your slit and coated himself in your juices, and just when he’d bracketed his other arm around your head on the pillow, you let out a small sound.
“Are you sure it’ll fit?”
Bucky fisted his length and pressed the tip to your entrance.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
He hadn’t yet met a woman who wasn’t able to fit him.
“Okay.”
Somehow, your voice sounded even smaller, head lodged between pillows and the crook of Bucky’s elbow. You felt small. Frankly, it didn’t seem like your husband was quite computing the worries that were pervading your brain, but you decided he knew best—your mother had assured you that husbands always did—and when Bucky first pressed the head of himself to the seam of your cunt, you hardly even whimpered.
You watched his brow furrow above you. He tried to go further.
Your folds were as soaked as he’d ever seen a woman’s, your hole practically pulsing with desire, and somehow, he couldn’t push in.
Bucky snagged his lip between his teeth and braced himself with the aid of the headboard, taking your hip in his other hand. A breath sounded on your lips the second he adjusted, and shortly thereafter, he felt your gaze on the same place he was watching: the spot where your bodies were trying to connect.
His features darkened at the prospect of failing, or even appearing incompetent to you in the slightest. He’d done this hundreds of times before, why wouldn’t it work?
When he felt your eyes trail back up his body and study his face—maybe wondering why her new groom hadn’t gotten around to thrusting into her yet, he thought—he felt a swell of panic and pushed.
Against his better judgment and the feel of your body, he muscled his way through and forced his cock inside. Bottoming out in a single, stabbing thrust.
You seized in pain but wanted to be a good wife for him.
Bucky, too, felt his hips stutter at the resistance your walls were giving him, but then remembered how he’d sworn to be a dutiful husband, and kept going.
Together, you stared anywhere but the other’s face and gritted your teeth for two entirely different reasons—you, in agony, and Bucky, in ecstasy, the latter hoping with everything in him that you liked this as much as him.
Bucky took a tender, if not slightly awkward, rhythm rutting against your body and stared steady at the headboard like he always did.
You were in pain and faced with nothing but his hulking chest, moving up and down, back and forth, over and over again like a goddamn seesaw from hell while it felt like your insides were presently being torn to shreds.
Who fucking enjoys this? you wanted to wail, but feigned a moan instead, raking your nails down Bucky’s back, Why isn’t he looking at me? Why isn’t he touching me?
Your walls involuntarily clenched around him, and he swallowed a moan.
Just think of baseball, beer, math, the Roman Empire, anything to keep from busting right now, Bucky told himself as he clenched his jaw and fought to maintain his pace. Your pussy just felt so. fucking. good.
Beneath him, you had tried and failed to fight back tears. The burn was just too much; the longer he thrusted, the more your walls contracted, and confusingly, stupidly, it seemed like he was using you. Your mother was right, most likely, that sex was just a means to an end for men like Bucky, and your husband didn’t care about your pleasure at all. You fought hard to keep the waterworks at bay, that one thing you hadn’t wanted Bucky to see, but eventually, the tears were flowing freely.
You stifled a sob that your husband mistook for a moan.
He fucked you even faster and felt a grin start to twitch at the corners of his lips when you made a sound that seemed consistent with pleasure.
“Feel so fucking tight,” Bucky grunted, about to lower his gaze to your face for the first time since he’d entered you, “So nice and tight and w—hey, hey, baby?”
He stilled inside as soon as he saw that you were crying. Took your face in his hands and almost couldn’t believe the sight of your tear-stained cheeks beneath him.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, scanning your face for any signs of harm.
You just shook your head and tried to brush him off.
“Keep going, I’m good.”
Bucky seemed angered at the suggestion. He brought your face closer to his and stared almost reproachfully down at you. Then he paused a beat and swiped one of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“N—”
“Don’t lie.”
You squirmed a bit and winced. That was answer enough for Bucky, and he slowly pulled out of you.
“Aw hell.”
The two of you glanced down to see a blooming red spot on the comforter. Bucky rubbed the blood in disbelief.
He’d gone too far. Again. Hurt something inside of you that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. While you struggled to sit up among the pillows, Bucky was running a hand through his hair and cursing himself up and down.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he scowled.
“I didn’t wanna interrup—”
“If I’m making you bleed, you stop me, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well you seemed to be having a pretty good time!”
Bucky didn’t need to tell you in words what was painted on his face; he was pissed off and probably bound to slip off the bed any second, when your tears started welling up again. Then he eased off, remembering he was more mad at himself than anyone else, and slid closer to you. He tried pulling you into his chest, but you didn’t budge.
“C’mon,” you said, grabbing his wrist, “Let’s keep going.”
Bucky eyed you incredulously.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh,” you insisted. He shot you a glare but didn’t protest when you guided his hand between your legs.
You were spread back open for him in no time. Still stinging like hell and ready for another go. Bucky almost couldn’t believe it.
“My headstrong wife.” He managed a smile before kissing the crown of your head, and kept right on kissing that spot no matter how far his fingers were traveling.
“You owe me two orgasms, remember, Mr. Barnes?”
It seemed Bucky’s boastful claims of late were in fact the furthest thing from his mind as he crawled back over your body. He pried your knees apart and left just enough room for his frame, taking his fingers to your folds and rubbing in light, gentle circles.
The bleeding had stopped. What little remained was long forgotten, and duly, the pain from recent memory was slowly but surely purged with every flick of his thumb. Bucky planted an arm next to your head and kept touching you there until your face relaxed completely.
When he chanced a finger inside, he was careful not to rub so much as plunge in quick, shallow motions, and at the first signs of pleasure, press light and tender kisses on your skin.
“If it hurts at all, you tell me.”
He sounded stern as he inserted another finger, but really, the man was all putty in your hands, wanting to please you and tease you in any way that he could.
When you told him faster, he sped up; you gripped his hair and said slow down, he did the same. He curled his digits in time with every whimper and moan you made and took care not to be too harsh on your sweet spot.
The only time he paused was when you looked up and asked him point-blank: could he fuck you sweet and gentle now?
Bucky paused. Swallowed.
The man would’ve screwed you six ways to Sunday if you asked him; that wasn’t the problem. The only traces of hesitation remained where your eyes said something different. Even as he shuffled between your legs at your behest, aligned his cock with your entrance, and felt a wave of desire wash over him, he pressed his forehead to yours and searched your glossy gaze once more.
“You sure about this, bunny?” he murmured.
Your heart melted at the name. You couldn’t deny you were frightened, and perhaps a bit worse for the wear after your last attempt, but his words were a comfort, his hand on your cheek a welcome gesture. When his thumb grazed your lips, you kissed it and nodded.
“Alright sweet girl,” Bucky said, tone laced with affection.
This time, before pressing the head of himself inside, Bucky caught your lips and kissed you softly. Rubbed himself up and down your slit—paying extra attention to your clit—and coated himself completely before trying to penetrate you again.
Your cheeks flushed, and you kissed him harder.
“P-please, Bucky, fuck me,” you murmured against his mouth, eliciting a small grunt from him.
“Yeah? You want your husband’s cock inside you, doll?” He kept the pretense of teasing, but really, he was just trying to make sure you wanted this as badly as he did. By the blissed out look on your face and the soft, ceaseless squelching noises produced by your arousal, he got the message pretty quickly.
He breached your folds with just the tip at first. You both felt your muscles contract. Instead of blindly pushing ahead like he had before, Bucky trained his gaze on your face and watched for any signs of discomfort.
“Everything okay, bunny?” he hummed as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face.
You were half in awe of how attentive he was, and doubly impressed by the stretch that followed—like a pinch, but nothing like the pain you’d felt before. You peered up at your husband and squeezed his shoulders.
“It— it doesn’t hurt this time,” you said, breathless.
Bucky could’ve caved at the sweet, innocent expression alone—like you were pleasantly surprised this hadn’t caused excruciating pain—and his lips moved down to pepper your cheeks with kisses again.
“Doll, I’m so sorry.”
The sounds and sighs of your pleasure beneath him, along with the words telling him it was okay, really, he hadn’t meant to do it, all made him feel even guiltier for having hurt you in the first place. It took him some time assailing your face with tiny, apologetic kisses before he even thought to feed you another inch.
When he finally plunged himself deeper, it wasn’t without your express permission; even then, Bucky feared he might split you in two.
The whole time he eased himself inside, he was moving his gaze between your face and the place between your two bodies—watching you open for him and take him inch by inch. He rubbed his thumb over your clit when you whimpered.
“Doing so good for me.”
“Stretching so nice for this cock.”
“My beautiful, beautiful wife.”
Every syllable of his praises flooded your head like honey. Feeling him stretch you out, fill you up, and rock you softly with his first shallow thrusts, all while talking you through it, had your mind ablaze and near-euphoric.
Pleasure practically searing your veins, you didn’t even hear yourself, or really mean to say it, as soon as you did.
“This doesn’t feel dirty at all.”
An epiphany to you and a puzzle to Bucky.
“What’s’at, honey?” He was still rutting his hips and slowly picking up speed. Your husband groaned when you clenched around him and pulled him even deeper—before you realized what you’d said.
Your cheeks flushed.
“I— I was always told sex made you dirty. This feels—” you stopped to swallow a moan when Bucky grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you, “pretty nice.”
‘Pretty nice.’ Your husband couldn’t help the smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he leaned down to kiss you. He wrapped his big, muscly arms around you and pulled you closer to his chest.
“Makes you dirty?” Bucky said, disbelief evident in his tone before his smile broke into a grin, “Baby, you’re the cleanest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He didn’t let you endeavor to protest, just buried his face in your neck and pressed teasing kisses all over the skin while he continued to pump in and out of you. He knew to keep hitting that spot, too.
You were drowning in whimpers and kisses when Bucky brought his lips to your ear.
“Doesn’t make you dirty at all,” he assured you, “Just makes you my wife.”
You clawed Bucky’s back when he sped up a little, and you felt the pleasure soar to even greater heights when he propped your legs above his shoulders—a brand new angle for him to bend you like a pretzel and fuck you good.
“You take this cock too nice to be dirty,” he gritted his teeth and continued to soothe you just how he knew you liked it, “Such a good little wife, sucking up every inch of me like you were made for it.”
Your lips parted in a soft ‘o,’ feeling him plunge the depths of your cunt like he never had before. Bucky slipped his thumb in your mouth while he held your face.
“That what you are, bunny? A good girl?”
You nodded your head and sucked his thumb, feeling yourself fucked dumb as you did. Bucky loved that blissed out look in your eyes.
“Good girl for daddy?” he cooed.
Your ankles trembled around his neck as soon as he said it. You nodded again, yes, you were, and felt a light coil start to form in your lower stomach as Bucky kept pounding you and pushing his thumb between your lips.
Then, with a pop, he plucked the digit from your mouth and brought it down to your clit. He started soft at first, but before long he was rubbing vicious circles on that little bundle of nerves, watching you come undone before his eyes and clench around him even tighter.
“B-Bucky,” you whined, fisting the sheets underneath you both as you squirmed.
“Mhmm?” Your husband pretended to be oblivious.
“I w— I’m gonna—” The words could scarcely leave your lips without finding themselves punctured with a whimper as soon as they were spoken. Bucky thrusted harder.
“Gonna what? Cum for daddy?” he grinned, “Make a mess all over this cock?”
Your moans of pleasure more than sufficed for an answer. You nodded and winced, felt your whole lower half seize with a warm and heady feeling, and before you knew it, Bucky’s thrusts were sending you spiraling over the edge, with a wave of bliss following shortly behind. Sounds of skin slapping skin hardly faltered, and Bucky kept rubbing and fucking you all throughout the waves of your high.
Tears sprung to your eyes, and you didn’t care. Your mind was alight with more bright, fervid feelings than you could count or comprehend, and your body washed over with pleasure.
You clung to Bucky and felt him keep fucking you, even as you shrieked against his skin.
“One more for me, honey.”
You didn’t think that was possible. You had just spilled all over him, squeezing his cock like a vice and screaming his name, and now he wanted it all over again? So soon?
Your fingernails sunk into his arms as he continued to rut into you, and you started to shake your head.
“C-Can’t Bucky, I can’t, I can’t,” you sobbed, tears still streaming down your cheeks.
“Sure you can.”
Your husband had his mouth at your ear again, panting as the pace of his thrusts grew faster. He tilted his body slightly forward so your legs were pushed even higher above you—damn near grazing either side of your head—and pounded you relentlessly.
His voice seemed so calm and assured as he spoke,
“Cum for daddy. Show me just how fucking good this cock makes you feel and cum again for me.”
With a command like that, how could you refuse?
You came a second time, hands seizing Bucky's forearms, and screams tearing through your chest as you rode your high impaled on his cock over and over again. The sights and sounds and repeated, pulsing spasms of your pussy on his shaft sent Bucky chasing his release not long after, and you felt a warmth spread inside you.
Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears, your cheeks practically drenched already. As you came down from your high, you started to blink.
But just as you lifted a hand to sop up the moisture, Bucky was leaning over you and into you with the brightest smile. Then he was kissing each wet, salty stain like it was the most natural thing in the world, sponging soft and gentle touches all over the spots your tears had overflown.
It seemed every nerve ending in your lower half was on the fritz, your body little more than mush underneath him, but somehow you managed to catch his mouth as he traversed the skin. You kissed him back, and Bucky drew you closer.
The two of you separated for a second, Bucky’s cock still resting comfortably inside you and his broad frame engulfing you in bed. He paused a beat. Seemed to consider something in his mind before speaking aloud.
“Honey,” he started, unsure of how he wanted to say this.
You peered up at him, curious. His seed had filled every contour and crevice of your aching walls and was just then starting to dribble out of you. Bucky seemed unfazed. He cupped both hands around your face.
“I love you.”
You blinked. No fucking way you were hearing those words.
“What?” You felt too awestruck to say anything else.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated. A smile was starting to tug at his lips, his thumb tracing your cheek while you stared at him in disbelief.
You would’ve liked to speak.
Would’ve loved to say those three little words right back.
In fact, you had just opened your mouth to tell him that, when a sound at the foot of the bed startled you both.
The warm glow of moonlight pouring in from the window panes was your only means to see it. But sight wasn’t worth much at all when a man appeared and pressed the barrel of a gun to Bucky’s temple, letting out a chuckle.
Another man, clad head-to-toe in polished black tactical gear approached from the far end of the room. Bucky gritted his teeth but remained motionless, hearing that man cock his firearm as well. You were surrounded on either side of the bed. Your blood ran cold.
“Sorry to interrupt the fun, Mr. Barnes,” the man on the left spoke so low and gruff he could scarcely be heard.
When Bucky started to stir, the man on the right raised his pistol as well. Curled his finger on the trigger.
“We haven’t even met your beautiful bride.” A set of cruel, glinting teeth turned in your direction. Suddenly, all eyes were trained on you—along with a third handgun, pointed at your head, as another man approached.
“Wedded bliss treating you well so far, Mrs. Barnes?”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#mob bucky barnes#marvel smut#marvel x reader#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob bucky#mafia!bucky#mafia bucky barnes
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.
contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams
suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.
that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)
marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.
“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”
“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”
“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”
“you had a cult too.”
“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”
“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”
“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”
“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”
“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”
“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”
“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”
you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.
“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.
“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”
“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”
“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.
“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.
“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”
“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”
“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.
“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”
“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”
“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”
“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.
you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”
“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.
you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”
“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”
you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.
it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”
“you took the kids too,” you remind him.
“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”
“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.
“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”
“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”
“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”
“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”
he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.
“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”
hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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౨ৎ voicemails choi seungcheol leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, darling)
...one: hey darling! we just arrived at the hotel. i called right after we landed but you didn't answer and then jeonghan reminded me that we’re in completely different time zones. i feel like a total idiot for forgetting about it. good thing you didn't answer though, i hope you have the sweetest dreams. anyway, call me in the morning when you wake up. i love you
...two: the bed felt so cold last night. fuck, it’s been only a day and i miss you like crazy already
...three: i think the kids are sick of me. they say i keep talking about you but (laughs) how could i not? how was your day though? what did you do today? did eat something good for dinner?
...four: that photo of you and kkuma you sent me earlier. (pause) it made my whole day. i immediately set it as my wallpaper. (sigh)
...five: i hate cuddling these goddamn pillows, i want you back in my arms baby
...six: oh my god, yesterday was so much fun! mingyu and dino took me out to drink, and we ended up in the shittiest street ever, and like, there were so many people staring at us weirdly. i know we’re good looking, but come on. then mingyu started to get scared, which started to freak dino out too (laugs). and then i started to get scared too. but then we discovered the best bar ever. i can't wait to tell you all about it
...seven: i saw it’s raining back home. i put an umbrella in your bag before i left because you always forget to bring it with you, and make sure to dress well. go over to my place and take some of my hoodies and coats, and i don't want to hear any complaints
...eight: i miss you
...nine: i should’ve brought a bigger suitcase with me, i swear i have so many gifts for you
...ten: i wish you could be here with me. (pause) i love you
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee
#seventeen x you#svt reactions#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen carat#seventeen kpop#svt fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#scoups#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#svt#cheol#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reaction#scoups fluff
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I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator
🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???
🪴 plantdad Follow
You've got to be kidding me
🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!
5,324 notes
🩺 therealmccoy Follow
After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!
🩺 therealmccoy Follow
Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.
955 notes
🖖 iamspock Follow
Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.
For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.
Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?
I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.
💅 janicethemenace Follow
I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT
💉 xtinechapel Follow
DELETE THIS
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭
🔧 scott-free Follow
But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
DMing you rn 😳
🖖 iamspock Follow
You're welcome.
24,103 notes
🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.
My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.
🪴 plantdad Follow
I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀
🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
Do I really have to say it?
6,322 notes
💊 mmmbenga Follow
The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist
⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow
Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.
💊 mmmbenga Follow
Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole
#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them
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😎 ortegaaaas Follow
So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
Erica no! That's not how navigation works!
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
FLOOR IT???
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
ERICA NO
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID
🚀 mitchiemitch
ERICA P L E A S E
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🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.
How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO
💫 numerouna Follow
Wait what did I miss while I was gone
🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///
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#star trek#Star Trek tos#Star Trek snw#James kirk#Jim kirk#spock#Leonard mccoy#nyota uhura#spirk#una chin riley#montgomery scott#uhotty#Chris pike#joseph m'benga#Star Trek aos#pavel chekov#Hikaru sulu#erica ortegas#christine chapel#bones mccoy#Tumblr dashboard simulator#Star Trek meme#Star Trek strange new worlds#Star Trek the original series
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Walking in on Roommate! Chan | Pt. 2
❣ Summary: A lot can change in a month, but was it truly a change, or simply a realization? ❣
❣ Word Count: 7.41k
❣ Warnings: Non!Idol AU, Roommate! Chris, fluff, smut, slice of life, slight humor, friends to lovers, slight! dom Chris, Dom/Sub dynamics, smut with feelings, sir/daddy kink ❣
❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣
❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Sir, and Daddy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Good/Pretty Girl, and Princess, lightly edited
❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Pt. 1
It had been a month since the incident, and though you thought things had gone unchanged between you and Chris, your reality couldn't have been more wrong.
You seemed to linger more on every interaction with him, your brain working double time to process things he'd say or do as of they had a deeper meaning behind them - which they didn't.
He always left you little notes whenever he'd go out with Changbin for an early gym session, so why were you smiling at the hastily written messages and cutely drawn dragon-worm signature?
He always texted you on your break at work to remind you of any plans he made, so why did your heart flutter every time his contact popped up?
He always made sure your favorite snacks were in the pantry, and if you were running out he'd stock them up before you had the chance to add them on your grocery list, so why did you swoon every time your favorite bag of chips was sat on the kitchen counter?
There was no way your world flipped itself upside down over one incident, absolutely no way...
Unless.
"I'm screwed." You groaned woefully, dropping your head to the table in front of you.
Jeongin laughed, taking a piece of meat from your plate, "I told you to stop laughing at that guy's terrible jokes, now look at you!"
"What?"
"Jongsoo, the coworker you kept saying was trying to flirt with you but couldn't catch a hint?" Felix mused, tilting his head slightly, "Isn't that what we're here to talk about? 'Level three red alert', and all?"
"What? No, no," sitting up, you leveled him with a soft stare, "if this was about him, I would've picked a bar - he doesn't deserve the glory of being talked about over barbecue."
"Okay, so why are we here?" Minho huffed as he flipped a strip of beef on the tabletop grill, "Actually, better question, why am I here? Last I checked I never signed up to this whole 'red alert' code talk."
"Hyung, the last time we shared tea that you didn't know about, you ignored me and Felix for a week for 'leaving you out'." Jeongin spoke pointedly, recalling the way he practically cursed them out for 'disrespecting your elders'.
The former groaned, rolling his eyes, "Why didn't you just say you needed to shit talk someone?! Why are we speaking in code?"
"Because one of our friends has a big mouth, the other one forgets a secret is a secret the second you finish talking to him, another one likes sharing gossip online through subs and secret callout posts, one couldn't even buy a fuck to give about any gossip, and the final one... he's not allowed, he knows too much as it is already." You listed simply before taking a sip of your drink, "The group we have right now is formed out of the strongest tea holders, understand?"
"Anyways," Felix snapped you back into business, "what's happening? Why are you screwed?"
Steeling your nerves, you mentally prepared yourself for the word that were about to come out of your mouth.
"I might have a crush on someone..."
"I knew it." Minho announced smugly, taking another piece of perfectly cooked beef from the grill top.
"What?! There's no way you knew anything about this, Hyung!" Jeongin argued, sitting up in his seat next to you, "You don't even like people! How are you suddenly an insider?"
"Look at her!" He pointed the tongs in your direction, to which you tilted your head in confusion, "The past few days she's been watching her phone like a hawk whenever we all go out, she's been way too happy, and she spaces out more than usual-"
"Okay, that part could just be because of Lix's pot brownies!"
"Hey, hey, hey - ex-nay on the pot brownies-ay, okay? The whole world doesn't need to know - I only do it cause people ask me to!" The blond gritted out, pointing his fork in the direction of the youngest as a threat.
"Yeah, sure, next you're gonna say you only model for Hyunjin because he 'asks you to'."
"You little-"
"Hey!" The eldest of the boys snapped the tongs three times, effectively quieting them, "Shut up! We're here to get information, not talk about Felix's entrepreneur business, got it?" He pointed the utensil toward you yet again, "Talk. Now."
"Well- Uh... I don't know, it's not like I wanted it to happen, I was completely fine as friends with this person but then..." Shrugging your shoulders, you felt the events of the past month play back in your head, "I guess things just changed one day? Like, suddenly I could see them in this new light and now every time he does something so stupidly normal I find myself wanting to kiss him until I can't breathe."
"Ugh, that's both disgusting and cute - why did we have to talk about this over barbecue?" Jeongin whined before stuffing his face with a lettuce wrap. "Whosh th' lucky guy?"
"You really think I'm gonna reveal-"
"I swear to god, please don't say it's your coworker," Felix pouted, looking at you with pleading eyes, "you can do so much better than him - you don't have to do the charity work, I promise you."
"Lee Felix-"
"I know your heart's in the right place, but you don't have to cater to him, please."
"Would you please-"
"40 bucks says it's Chan." Minho hummed through a bite of his bulgogi.
The youngest nearly choked on his drink, swallowing a hefty gulp before coughing, "That's such a bad take! Chan Hyung? The man with negative rizz? The man who stays up long enough to say good night and good morning?"
"You say that like it's impossible!" The freckled blond argued, "It happens all the time in sitcoms!"
"Lix, please, I'd rather you not compare my life to a sitcom, I have enough happening for two seasons and a reunion episode as it is." You groaned, dropping your head in your hands with a sigh, "Can we just move on from the confession and talk about the movie night? I don't think my brain can handle the topic of my non-existent love life much longer."
Through a silent agreement, Minho ordered another round of food and the four of you continued onto much lighter - yet somehow more argument filled, conversation.
The coveted movie night was a monthly event that originally started with you and your friends, using the time Chris would be working late to have a movie marathon loaded with snacks, drinks, and cozy pajamas. It wasn't until Changbin caught word of the activity that the small gathering turned into a merged group affair; it was even enough to convince Chris to take time off to join in on the fun.
In the whirlwind of work and the existential crisis of realizing your crush, you'd completely forgotten that the event would be taking place tonight.
Funny, how fast time flies when your world is in shambles.
"Alright, that's all the blankets and pillows from the closet." Chris huffed, stepping back with his hands on his hips as he admired his handiwork; the large couch draped with various blankets and piled high with pillows that were sure to be rearranged in less than a minute of everyone's arrival.
You snuck a glance from your spot in the kitchen, a soft smile growing from his look of personal accomplishment. "Looks great, hopefully we won't have Han and Hyunjin fighting over who gets what pillow again."
He snorted out a laugh, heading over to you, "You think so? Those two could fight over who gets the last chip with an unopened bag right next to them - it's happened before!" Leaning his hip against the island, his eyes glanced over the various snacks covering the surface, "D'you need me to help with anything?"
"Um- Yeah, actually, can you get me the bowls from the cabinet? We can open the chips now, it's almost time for everyone to show up." You turned to look at the stove's clock; 7:33 PM, a little less than half an hour until your shared apartment would be filled with a sea of people.
Chris hummed, pushing himself away from the countertop, and you found your eyes drawn to his frame; a black tank top - sleeveless by his own doing - showing off the subtle build of his biceps, and a matching pair of black shorts you'd seen time and time again.
It was his staple look, simple, perfectly cozy for the impending activities, yet somehow you still felt your heartbeat racing the longer you stared.
Yes, you knew he was attractive, your friends gawked about it for weeks since you first moved in with him, but when was he this attractive?
"The big bowls, yeah?"
Snapping yourself out of your stupor, you nodded, even with his back still turned to you. "Mhm, those are perfect!"
You were in, deep.
You turned your attention back to preparing the chips, opening a bag and sneaking one of the plain potato chips when you felt a hand at the small of your back - the stack of bowls sliding onto the counter a second later.
"Here you go."
This was normal, it was normal for him and his affinity for physical touch, but you still felt a rush of electricity shoot up your spine from his touch - your body freezing as you registered just how close he was behind you.
"Ah- Thanks, Channie!"
Normal. So very, very normal.
"You need anything else?"
Lifting your gaze from the snacks in front of you, your eyes immediately found his; warm and kind, a shade of brown you caught yourself daydreaming of time and time again - distracting enough for you not to realize the mere inches between your faces.
He smelled like mahogany and lavender, a faint musk of the cologne he always wore tinted with your laundry detergent he claimed made his clothes feel softer.
"I, um..." His stare was hypnotizing, sending every productive thought in your brain out the window, "I-"
The sound of the doorbell snapped you out of your reverie, but you could've sworn you saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he stepped back.
"That might be Han, he said he'd be coming a bit earlier."
"Yeah, no, that's fine - can you finish opening these when you get back? I'm gonna go get changed."
Chris hummed out a short "Yeah" before heading toward the front door, leaving you to collect yourself amongst the colorful serving bowls.
This was going to be a long night.
It wasn't long before everyone showed up; comfort clothes on and ready for the night's movie queue and rounds of snacks.
The seating arrangements remained in their usual layout with the mix of your friends between the couch or the floor, while you somehow always found yourself tucked between Chris and and the corner of the couch - arguably, the best part of any couch in your opinion.
This time, however, the arrangement was met with knowing side eye glances from your half of the friend group, a few of your girls sharing barely hidden smirks and whispers.
Before you could throw a pillow as a warning sign, a blanket of polyester blocked your vision and filled your nose with an all too familiar scent.
"Here," Chris hummed softly, rounding the edge of the couch to take his place next to you, "in case you get cold."
"Aw, you thought of me?" You teased, nudging his shoulder with yours as you unfolded his blanket and draped it across your legs.
"I always think of you."
His words made you freeze, your heart stuck in a limbo of floating to your throat or falling to the pit of your stomach while he carried on with the rest of the group.
I always think of you.
Always.
The revelation had the gears in your head working double time, the events of the past month playing like a movie in your mind - akin to the one currently starting on the TV in front of you.
He always thought of you, his caring nature shown in so many ways besides the ones you grew used to while living under the same roof; if you were running late coming home, you'd always have a text making sure you were safe - or, when you had important dates in your schedule, he'd be the one to remind you when they were a few days away.
Chris always did little things to show that you were on his mind, he always made it clear that you were important to him, that he cared about you as much as he did his friends.
But maybe... Maybe there was more behind it.
Your fingers glided along the blanket covering your lap, the fabric soft and welcoming like the hug of a close friend.
I always think of you.
It was like the three movies passed in the span of seconds, some of your shared friends tapping out after the second film, while the stragglers and self proclaimed cleanup crew stuck around to take in a cheesy family comedy of a man taking his family on a wild vacation.
"Min, you don't have to do that, you know," you chastized the black haired man as he washed the empty chip bowls, "I would've gotten to it in the morning!"
He scoffed out a chuckle, throwing you a knowing side eye, "Yeah, says the person who told me how much she hates the dishes with a passion stronger than Han's coffee addiction."
Deciding to protect your pride - knowing full and well he was completely correct - you wandered back into the living room where Felix and Jisung were folding one of the blankets, while Jeongin rearranged the pillows and Changbin gathered any missed trash lying around.
Felix shot you a sleepy smile, nodding his head toward the stack of folded blankets, "D'you want us to put these back in the closet?"
"No, you guys have done more than enough, seriously! I'll put them away, don't worry."
"What about this one?" Jisung held up the navy blanket you were using, Chris' navy blanket. "Want it folded? Are you still using it?"
"It's actually Chris's, I'll give it back to him."
Said man slipped away to his bedroom in the middle of the third movie, mentioning something about double checking some files for work before wishing you all a good night.
Humming in acceptance, the remaining boys gathered their belongings and headed toward the door, giving each of them a hug and making them swear to text when they each made it home safely.
Minho gave you a soft smile, though a certain glint in his eyes raised warning sign in your head, "Have a good night." He hummed with an air of mischief, slipping through the door before you had even a second to question him.
Frowning at the wood, you clicked the lock into place before gathering everything you needed to close off the living room for the night; tucking the navy blanket under your arm while balancing the other blankets in your hand. You stuffed them back into their bin in the hallway closet with ease, sliding the door shut and making your way toward your last stop of the night.
The sound of your knuckles against the door echoed through the empty hall, "Channie, you up?"
"Yeah, you can come in!"
Turning the knob, you were bathed in a soft purple light from his LED's, walking into the cozy atmosphere to see him laying on his bed with his phone in hand, "Hi."
He smiled, dropping his phone to the side as he sat up, "Hey, you - is everyone gone?"
"Yep, they helped clean up as usual, I'm just here to return this," you held up the blanket, stopping just short of the side of his bed, "thanks for letting me borrow it."
"You know, you can keep using it if you want, it's not like I won't know where it is."
Rolling your eyes, you held it out to him, "Chris, you and I both know I don't need anymore blankets in my room."
"What if you get cold?" He grinned, challenging you with glittering eyes.
"Then I'll use one of my blankets!" You laughed at his cheekiness, tossing the blanket in his direction just for him to catch it before it covered his face.
The room filled with your combined giggles, warmth settling over you as you watched him unceremoniously ball the blanket up and toss it toward his computer chair.
Just as you were about to announce your leave, your mind seemed to have a mission of its own the minute you opened your mouth.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, always - what's up?"
Always - god, was he trying to drive you crazy on purpose?
You needed clarity, something to confirm that you were seeing things that weren't truly there - making a purpose out of words that were simply meant from one roommate to another, one best friend to another.
"So... About what you said in the living room, when you said you always think of me..." You dropped your gaze from his, your fingers suddenly becoming the most interesting thing to you, "Did... Did you mean it?"
"Of course I meant it, you're one of my best friends - I think about you all the time!" The smile he gave you was genuine, warm, filled with so much truth that it made your heart skip a beat.
Steeling your nerves, you looked up at him with a firm stare, "All the time?"
"Yes...? I mean, I think about other people and things too, but for the most part you've always been there... Why are you asking-"
"Did you think about me last month?"
His smile faltered, eyebrows furrowing as he searched your face for a hint of an answer. "What are you talking about?"
"Chris, did you think about me last month - when I walked into your room and I saw you-" Taking a sharp breath, you calming yourself before looking at him with pleading eyes, "Did you think of me?"
The silence was thick, the sound of your own heart filling your ears - you were certain it would beat right out of your chest and run out of the room to save you from this conversation.
"Would..." He cleared his throat, dropping his head as he picked at the sheets underneath him, "Would it be weird if I said yes?"
Your stomach flipped, your knees threatening to buckle and send you straight to the floor but you stood strong. "Would it be weird if I said I wanted you to?"
His head snapped back up and he stared at you with a look crossed between shock and awe, "Are you serious?"
"Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." The confession took you by storm, though you couldn't find it in yourself to stop talking, "And it's not just from that night - well, some of it is, but since then it's like... enhanced? Like, every little thing you do just lingers and sometimes I think I'm just going crazy because it's not like you've done anything new - it's just you, yet my heart feels like it'll explode after every text you send, or whenever we're in the same room, and I-"
The sound of your name from his lips stopped your panicked ramble, though the look he gave you did little to calm your racing heart.
"Come here."
Offering his hand, you cautiously accepted it and let him guide you onto his bed, straddling his lap at his instance while trying not to completely evaporate from the close proximity.
"Honestly, this isn't how I thought I'd end up confessing, but I guess there's a lot about us that isn't traditional," he chuckled to himself, his hands naturally finding their home on your hips, just below the waistband of your pajama shorts. "First, I want you to know that I think about you no matter what - you're always somewhere in my mind and at first I thought it was because you're my roommate, someone I care about just like everyone else in my life. But, recently things have been changing and I..." Taking a deep breath, his eyes found yours, a firm, yet comforting gaze holding you captive in those brown irises, "I have feelings for you- I like you, more than just a roommate or a best friend, and I didn't want to ruin things between us if you didn't feel the same w-"
You cut him off with your lips against his, swallowing the rest of his sentence with a small hum of delight - soft with a hint of cherry chapstick.
He melted almost immediately, tugging you closer as a hand slid up your back to keep you pressed against his body - almost as if he allowed anymore space between you, you'd somehow disappear into his dreams.
When you went to pull away, he followed like a desperate puppy and you had to fight the urge to laugh at him, placing your hand on his chest to keep him from coming any closer. "Just so you know, that kiss means I definitely feel the same way."
Chris huffed out a giggle, narrowing his eyes playfully, "No, really? I would've never guessed!"
"Well, I know for a fact you also feel the same way." The lilt in your voice was teasing, making a show of rolling your hips against the mass that was quickly making itself known between your legs.
Biting his lip, he leveled you with a firm gaze, daring, "Don't start something you can't finish, baby."
The pet name made your heart flutter, and you tilted your head up in defiance, "What makes you think I don't wanna finish it, hm?" Grinding your hips yet again, you were able to work out a low groan from those wonderfully kissable lips, "I can finish it, Channie, just show me how."
Before you knew it, he had you wrapped up in another mind melting kiss that had you letting out a shivering moan against his mouth as you tried matching his ferocity.
"You," he panted, nipping your bottom lip, "are gonna be the death of me, you little minx."
He kissed his way down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots he miraculously had no trouble in finding, leaving you wondering how much he truly knew about you to discover this information.
However, all of your critical thinking skills flew out the window when he sucked at a spot just underneath your jaw, turning you into a whining mess that only craved him and him alone.
Tilting your head to the side to grant him more room, you simultaneously tugged at his shirt - almost offended that he decided tonight of all nights to wear one in the privacy of his own room.
"Off, Chris."
He pulled himself away from the paradise that was your skin, gazing at you with simmering eyes, "Say please?"
Pouting, you pulled at the offending cotton once more, "Chris-"
His hands immediately found your wrists, tugging them gently behind your back as he tilted his head, fixing you with a tsk of disapproval. "Use your manners, princess, you know how this goes."
Your body temperature spiked, flashes of him saying the same fated words as a tease just to get you to beg for him before he inevitably gave you what you wanted, playing back like a film reel.
You know how this goes.
Swallowing down the demand threatening to bubble up, you relaxed in his hold and softened your undoubtedly needy gaze, "Please, Chris? Can you take your shirt off, for me?"
The smirk that stretched his lips had your stomach doing flips, the mere glimpse of the cocky energy he had inside of him making your mouth water and your pussy flutter with need.
"That's my girl."
He let go of your wrists to hike the hem of his shirt into his hands, before tugging it up and off with the coveted crossed-arm maneuver that he never failed to use as his prized flirting trick - and, god, was it a good trick.
Despite having seen him shirtless countless times, seeing him shirtless up close had your brain melting.
"Remind me to thank Changbin for keeping you in check with his gym routine."
"As much as I appreciate the compliment, could we maybe not talk about our other friends while I have you in my lap?"
Barely holding back your laughter, you nodded and slipped your own pajama shirt off in one go as a peace offering, tossing it to the floor where his currently laid. "Yes, sir - won't happen again." When he went rigid underneath you, you arched an eyebrow, "Oh? We have a sir kink, do we?"
Before you could tease him any further, he surged forward and caught your lips in a feverish kiss, passion fueled and determined as his warm hands found the new, uncharted territory of your back.
"You're playing with fire, princess." His tone was firm, laced with warning as he nipped at your plump bottom lip, "You really think you can handle it?"
The tantalizing threat of a challenge had your heart skipping a beat; you'd seen him get into one of these moods before, asking an open ended question that he already know the answer to, and playing that game now held too many promising rewards in the end.
Preparing yourself for the next words coming out of your mouth, you gave him an innocent smile, "I know I can handle it, sir."
That was the straw that broke the camel's back, graciously earning you the split second of weightlessness before you were pinned on your back with every sense of yours surrounded by Chris; the feeling of his soft, cool sheets against your back, the smell of him ingrained into the cotton threading, and the heart stopping sight of him hovering above you bathed in that soft purple glow.
"Tell me you want this." His eyes locked onto your own, brown irises filled with caution and hope, "If you want me to stop, I'll stop, and we can pretend we never let it get this far, I promise."
"I want this- God, I need this, I need you, Chris - keep going, please."
With your consent given, his fingers danced up your thighs and over the cotton shorts you wore - a matching set to the shirt that was long forgotten - before dipping past the elastic waistband to drag them back down the expanse of your thighs.
They were unceremoniously tossed to the ground with the ever growing pile of clothes, and when he turned to give your panties the same, eventual treatment, his jaw nearly dislocated from the rate it dropped at; a bright blush turning his ears and neck red.
"Holy shit- I-I mean, fuck- Please... Please tell me you planned this"
You were now laid in his bed fully nude, which meant you weren't wearing panties for as long as the movie night went on, and that thought alone had his dick painfully straining against his own shorts.
Shaking your head, you timidly knocked your knees together, bristling at the exposure of cold air against your pussy, "I, um... I really wish I could say I planned it, but I didn't." Blinking up at the ceiling, a sheepish laugh shook your shoulders, "It's more comfortable sleeping without them, you know?"
Of course, you knew he knew from a few fated encounters with him early in the mornings, courtesy of wandering eyes and a not-so-small situation he tried keeping tucked away - it seemed that between the two of you, underwear was a foreign concept in the privacy of your shared apartment.
Chris groaned, a low, aching sound that begged for mercy to be taken on him, "You're absolutely going to be the death of me, there's no way you're real right now - this has to be a dream." Resting his hands on your knees, he silently waited for your hum of permission before pulling them apart, following the angle of your thighs down to catch his first glimpse of your pussy. "Fuck, if this is a dream, please don't wake me up."
"Chris."
Your insistent whine didn't fall on deaf ears as he wasted no time in scooting down his bed and ducking his head between your legs; plump lips peppering wet kisses along your soft skin, from the inside of your knee down to the highest point of your inner thigh, before skipping entirely over your cunt to repeat the process to your other leg.
Each caress of his lips sent chills up your spine, sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves and powering the growing desire within the pit of your stomach. Thankfully, you wouldn't have to suffer much longer as his second trip down ended with the warm sensation of his tongue swiping through your lower lips with a careful curiosity.
A sound crossed between a sigh and a moan floated through him before his hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs and he all but dove his head toward your pussy; lapping messily at the arousal dripping from you while aiming to explore your fluttering walls.
"Oh, shit-" Hands flying to his hair, you gripped at the roots as shock tinted pleasure shot through you, "Oh my god, Chris- Oh, god!"
The only sounds coming from him were muffled moans and lewd slurps, the only instances of his mouth leaving your pussy being him shifting his head up to focus his devilish tongue along your clit, and him pulling away for mere seconds of air before getting back to work.
He was eating you out like a man starved, and all you could do was lay there and take it with wanton moans and whines of his name.
"Chris, baby," you panted breathlessly, fingers tugging at his roots in hopes of gaining his attention, "baby, w-wait-" Pulling a bit harder, you were met with a groan of pleasure, sending your back into a small arch as the vibrations flowed through you.
With a small gasp of air, he pulled away just enough for you to catch the shine of your arousal coating the tip of his nose and lips, pupils blown with a fog of desire that made your mouth run dry.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you? D'you wanna stop?"
"No, no, you're amazing - if we stopped now I might actually die," giving him a reassuring smile, you brushed a few strands of hair away from his forehead, "but as wonderful as your tongue is, I'd rather come on your dick first."
"Fuck." Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, he sat up with a groan, "We're going to have to do something about that mouth of yours."
Blinking up at him with faux innocent eyes, you tilted your head, "I'm just telling the truth, sir."
He smirked at the pout set on your lips, leaning over you to nip gently at the flesh, "That's fine, I just wonder what else it can do." Sweeping you into a feather light kiss, he murmured softly, "You'll show me later, though, won't you, princess?"
Your pussy fluttered, clenching around nothing as you nodded without hesitation - only focused on getting those pretty lips, tinted with the taste of your arousal, back on your own.
"Good girl."
Chris pulled back, laughing at your whine of disdain while his hands got to work sliding down his black shorts with ease, shifting to get them fully off and added as the final item to the pile on the floor.
In the midst of all of his moving, you were able to catch a glimpse of just exactly what he was packing and your jaw dropped - the accidental peek you'd seen a month ago barely comparing to the full on staring contest you were having now.
He was big, bigger than most you'd had before in almost every way, and you nearly began to consider if it would even fit; your gaze trailing up the slight curve it held, mouth watering at a prominent vein running along the side.
"I'll go slow."
Your gaze snapped back up to meet his own, the previously cocky aura he held now warm and comforting, and your - admittedly needless - worries subsided.
"And I meant what I said earlier," reaching over to his nightstand, he pulled open a small drawer to take out a small, obvious box, "if you want me to stop, just say so."
Leaning up on your elbows, you watched as he pulled out a foil packet, "Do you know about safewords?"
"Yeah," bringing his full attention back to you, he tilted his head, "d'you have one?"
"Pear, for a hard stop, or the light system if it's easier for you to work with."
Scoffing out a laugh, he shook his head, "Whichever works for you, baby - I'll remember."
As you laid yourself back onto his bed, he made work of ripping open the condom packet, taking out the rubber and sliding it on with careful, yet experienced ease.
"Y'know, I never thought someone could look hot while putting on a condom, but I don't mind being proven wrong." When he ducked his head in embarrassment, a familiar sheepish blush beginning to turn his ears red, you giggled at your small achievement.
"It's our first time together, I didn't want to just assume that... you know." Growing past his shyness, Chris settled himself between your legs once more, one hand holding the back of your knee while the other wrapped around the base of his cock - a shiver of brief relief running down his spine. "Ready?"
Taking a deep breath, you nodded, "Ready."
Dropping his gaze, he leaned forward to press the covered head of his dick against your glistening entrance, biting his lip at the warmth emanating through before pushing onward - working the tip past your walls slowly.
The increasing stretch had a low moan escaping you, each inch introducing a new wave of pain tinted pleasure that shot from the top of your head to your toes. "Fuck, Chris."
He wasn't faring any better on his end, the lack of attention given to his dick since you first sat in his lap had him beyond sensitive and holding fast to his promise like a lifeline - go slow, go slow.
"Relax for me, baby," he gritted out, shivering as your walls clenched around the half of his length he managed to sink in, "just a little more, okay? Just need you to let me in."
"'M trying - you're so big." You couldn't find yourself to care about the desperate whine that took your voice, not when you were being deliciously filled with more to come.
Abandoning his hold on your thigh, he licked the pad of his thumb before bringing it to your clit, rubbing gentle circles in hopes of helping you relax further - and it worked. He was able to slowly sheath the rest of his dick inside of you, breathing a sigh of relief, while you shivered underneath him, canting your hips against the consistent flicks of his thumb against your sensitive nub.
"M-Move- Oh god, please move, Channie."
"Are you sure you're ready for that? I can wait-"
"Channie," looking up at him, you tried your best to give him a firm stare through the mind fogging lust, "I need you to fuck me; the color's green, it's so green, I promise - please, just fuck me already!"
He took his thumb off of your clit in favor of holding onto your hip instead, hovering over your body and keeping himself balanced with his left hand.
Licking his lips, his eyes searched your face for any signs of doubt, but he was simply met with desire and need. "Okay, only because you said please."
A smile lit up your face, and just as you went to give him a teasing reply, your body jolted forward and a surprised moan shot past your lips instead.
Another sharp thrust rocked your body and your hands scrambled to find purchase on his broad shoulders, latching onto him to take every quick, deep thrust he delivered before he fell into a regular pace of thorough strokes that had you seeing stars.
Chris watched every subtle shift in your expression after each thrust, drinking in the cute pinch of your eyebrows and pout of your lips while the sounds of your moans created a symphony in his head.
"Beautiful," he murmured, shifting his knees to allow him to drive deeper into your dripping cunt, "my pretty girl, taking me like you're fucking made for me."
The shift in his hips led you to lift your own, and the resulting graze of his cock against your g-spot had a near pornographic moan leaving you - neighbors be damned.
Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, he made a mental note to keep that angle as long as he could. "There it is - Fuck, look at you."
Your nails scratched down his shoulder blades, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the man above you, yet he continued on without hesitation.
"I wish I told you sooner," stifling a grunt, he switched up the pace with slow, shallow rolls of his hips, "could've had this pussy wrapped around me every fucking night."
A helpless whine vibrated through you, but the following moan was something neither you or him was prepared for.
"Daddy!"
There was a brief pause, not even lasting a full minute though it was glaringly obvious to you - even in your blissed out haze. Blinking up at him with worried eyes, you were ready to apologize for the mortifying slip up until you realized he wasn't looking down at you in disgust - but, rather, unrestrained lust.
"Daddy, hm? Is that what my pretty baby wants?" Sliding his hand down your thigh, he maneuvered to hook your leg in the crook of his arm and bring it up higher, evidently opening you up more. "I don't mind, it's fitting - you don't need sir right now anyways, isn't that right, princess? So," rutting his hips into yours, a cocky smirk curved his lips, "keep being a good girl and tell daddy just how good he's making you feel."
You could've died right then and there and considered it a fulfilling life; pinned underneath your best friend, your roommate, fucked within an inch of your sanity while he murmurs the dirtiest sentences you ever imagined from those glorious lips of his.
"O-Oh, god- P-Please, daddy-"
"Please, what, baby? I love hearing you beg, but you have to tell me what you want."
He knew what you wanted, he could feel it with each pulse of your cunt, the way your leg tensed in his hold while your body writhed underneath him - you were close, and he wanted to see just how far he could push you.
"I-I want- Fuck-" You squeezed the flexed muscle of his bicep, while your free hand fisted the pillowcase underneath your head, trying your best to gather the brain cells to make a comprehensible sentence through his unrelenting pace. "I wanna come- wanna come for you," blinking up at him with glossy eyes, you submitted instantly, "please, daddy, can I?"
Chris' pace faltered for the smallest of seconds, his heart swelling and his dick aching for the release he'd been fighting back since he entered your warm pussy - there was no use in stalling for more time, not when you needed him as much as he needed you.
"Hold it for just a little longer, princess." When you gave a displeased whine, he leaned down to kiss the pout off of your face, "It won't be long, I promise - ten seconds, you can count with me, yeah?"
Nodding desperately, you snuck another kiss from him before waiting for his next instruction, trying your best to suppress your lingering orgasm.
"Good girl - now, can you use your fingers to play with your clit for me? You can keep holding onto me, just use your free hand."
You followed his directions diligently, quickly licking your index finger before managing to work your arm between your bodies and finding your puffy clit with ease; the lightest touch sending a shock of pleasure through your system.
"'S too much, I-I can't-"
He shushed you, "You can, I know you can, just count with me, okay? Focus on me, baby - starting from ten."
Swallowing back a whine, you took a shivering breath, "T-Ten."
"Good, keep counting."
As your slow, broken countdown continued, he took the time to adjust his position one final time; sitting up straight and using his left hand to gather your leg in the same position as your right, holding you spread open and fully subject to his will.
"Seven... S-Six- Oh my god-" Your eyes rolled, your body feeling like fire was liking at each of your limbs as you rubbed quick circles around your clit.
"Don't stop counting, princess," Chris grunted, licking his lips as sweat beaded along his forehead, "come on, five."
A short sob broke past your lips, eyebrows pinching together, "I c-can't- I can't, daddy!"
"Four." He continued on, angling your legs slightly higher and focusing on the almost hypnotizing wet slapping sound of your pussy all but drenching his cock and the sheets underneath. "Three - almost there, baby, keep holding it for me."
You made a noise, not caring what it sounded like as long as it was known that you were still hanging in there, if only by a thread.
"T-Two - my perfect girl, doing so well for daddy, s-so fucking proud of you," he gritted out, breaths coming in bated pants as he exchanged the speed of this thrusts for more power, watching your back arch off of the bed in the process. "One - come, come for me, baby."
Your body followed through before your mind had the chance to comprehend his words, white-hot pleasure flooding through your veins as you came with a cry of his name - at least, you hoped the sound that came out resembled his name.
Chris groaned, doing his best to fuck you through your orgasm until he came with a shivering gasp, almost pained, high pitched whines falling from his lips with each wave; his dick quickly being surrounded by the warmth of his cum filling the latex.
Hours could've passed before you were able to come back to your senses, blinking your eyes open and dazedly looking at the man above you.
Even after sending you to the moon and back, he looked as breathtaking as ever; chest heaving and head tossed back, large hands now caressing your thighs as your feet met the mattress once more.
"Fuck." He laughed breathlessly, lifting his head to look at you with glittering eyes, "You okay? That- I didn't go too far, did I?"
Oh, he was going to be the death of you.
Shooting him a tired smile, you shook your head, "I'm more than okay - that was amazing, daddy."
You didn't miss the way his dick twitched inside of you from your words, his hands squeezing you softly.
"Princess, as much as I love hearing you say that, I might end up fucking you through the mattress if you keep it up."
Biting your lip, you not-so-subtly glanced at the open box on his nightstand before looking at him with daring eyes, "If I call you my boyfriend, can you fuck me into the next morning?"
He paused as if heavily pondering your words, then slowly pulled out of your sensitive walls with a grunt, "If you let me call you my girlfriend and let me take you on a date, you can call me both and I'll fuck you until you can't walk."
A bright smile found its way to your face and you nodded happily, "Deal, boyfriend."
With a grin as bright as the sun, he made quick work of taking off the used condom before tying it and tossing it in the small trash near his nightstand; returning to hover over you with warm eyes, "Deal, girlfriend."
Safe to say, he upheld his end of the deal with flying colors, and you planned the date as soon as you regained the ability to walk a day later.
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies for Pt. 2 [If you want to be added to my official tag list please fill out the form below]: @turtledove824, @boi-bi-ahaha, @skzworlddomination44, @brojustfknkillm3
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan smut#bang chan fluff#bangchan smut#bangchan fluff#bang chan x reader#bangchan x reader
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get you back
summary: You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.
warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, semi-drunkenness, carsex (18+), fingering, oral, swearing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do it), fuckbuddy!bucky, dbf!bucky, implied age gap, mention of bad boyfriends (not bucky), using nicknames (princess, bunny) , slight degradation - nothing physical, some mention of food
minors dni
a/n: yes I AM BACK. please leave some comments/reblogs. thanks!!
A loud snap of fingers made you turn your head to him. “Are you even listening to me?” You sighed, pressing fingers on your temples to look like you were trying to remember.
No, you weren’t listening. You were thinking how that hot guy was about to give you his number, before James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the actual devil, snatched you away. Leading you to his car without giving you a chance to say goodbye to the best body you have ever seen.
You. Hated. James. Bucky. Barnes.
“Something about… bunnies?” You shrugged as you turned your head back towards the road. Even though it was almost pitch black, you fought your urge to look at his profile under car’s lights. Even though he was angry and sleepless he looked better than all the guys you’ve ever known.
“Really? You are not even trying kid.” He said as he emphasized on the last word. He knew how much you hated the nickname.
“Stop calling me a kid. I’m not that young.”
“I will stop calling you a kid, when you stop acting like one. What were you thinking? What was the point of all that drinking? Get my attention or liver failure?”
The point was to get over your ex boyfriend finding someone before you did. You didn’t want to be the one who was stuck in an ended relationship.
You weren’t even prepared to the idea that he would start dating in a few months. His post just popped on your phone while you were scrolling through pictures on Instagram. Selfie with her, cheek to cheek and smiling like a true dumbass he is.
Getting ass drunk would be a nice way to forget. But you shouldn’t been too drunk to start texting and calling other people.
Especially calling the guy you hated the most. Because he would show up just in time, and yank you away from the guy you were flirting with.
You really shouldn’t have drunk texted your on-again-off-again hookup. Neighbour of your parents, a close friend of your dad.
It started just a few days after your heartbreak. You weren’t sure of how it started, but you remembered how it ended. In his bed, literally begging him for letting you cum as he pounded into you like an animal.
When you weren’t fucking, all you did was argue. Arguments about when to meet up or where to meet up… You hated meeting up in his place, so close to your parents. And he hated meeting only for an hour max.
You started fighting and decided to not meet up again. Either of you got tired of all the lies and secrets. It was you more than it was him. Bucky was always sure you would come back to him one way or another.
“Remind me not to call you again.” You huffed, resting your head on the window. Sun was about to shine in a few hours and all you wanted was to get into your bed. All you needed was forget the day and move on.
“Sure your parents would be thrilled to know their daughter would end up in jail for DUI.” You turned your neck so fast that it hurt.
“I wasn’t going to drive the car!”
“You getting into car of a drunk idiot is stupid enough too!”
“Stop acting like you are my dad! He was fucking hot, and he told me his place was really close.”
“What made you believe in him? I know what that kind of guy thinks. It is only getting you to the bed. You would be considered lucky if he bothered to call you the next day.”
“So? What made you think I am not okay with it?” You saw all the blood rushing to his cheeks, decorating them with a soft pink hue.
“Okay...” He said trying to not go any further with that discussion.
You dropped your shoulders, when you saw how his grasp on wheel tightened and his jaw clenched. If you didn’t know him that well, you would say he was offended.
Whether it was because of anger towards him or how tired you were. You didn’t say anything back but leant your seat back to at least sleep for the rest of the ride.
“Oh no princess, you are definitely not sleeping.” He said just before he slapped your thigh. Small ‘Hey!’ fell from your lips. It was fair to expect him to snap and say you crossed a line.
You yanked your leg away from his grasp. He shut you up before you could say anything back. “You made me get all this way three in the morning. Ofcourse there would be consequences.”
“I didn’t ask you to come.” You said as you rubbed your thigh.
“You sent me a picture of you lifting your skirt and texted all those things you want to do with me. But when I come to pick you up, I saw you on the lap of some dickhead.”
“I was horny. We’ve decided to stop with fooling around. Life moves on James.” As you finished the sentence, his foot stepped on the pedal so quick that he had to use his arm to stop you from falling forward.
“Get in the back of the car.”
“James, I’m tired.”
“Get in the back, or I will make you bunny.” You didn’t said anything back. Bucky never called you bunny, if he didn’t have something on his mind. You knew better than to take the risk of getting him angrier.
You rolled your eyes before unfastening your seatbelt. He caught the sight of your underwear as you bent over to move through the gap between the seats. Even though Bucky saw your pink thong, you acted like you had the upper hand.
“Take off your skirt.” He said before coming next to you. He almost yanked off the door before squishing you on the backseat.
He pulled you by your legs, making you lie down. The cold leather of the seats caused goosebumps on your skin. That and you knew what he was capable of when he was angry.
And he was pissed.
“Not so tired ha, bunny?” His large hands wandered along your legs, moving slowly towards your hips.
A loud noise of your gulp echoed in your brain. You could get used to that view. You legs hooked to his shoulders. His charming face inches over your lucky thong.
“Tell me again bunny.” He said as his eyes locked on your figure under his, trying not to smirk at the wet patch on your thong.
“Tell you what?” You asked. Blinking at him with nothing else on your mind.
“Tell me again the last thing you told me before breaking up with me. So I would not have my way with you.”
“Uhm...” He started kissing on the top of your thighs. Index finger was tracing your slit over the thong.
“We can’t keep doing this and not expect one of us getting hurt. Ah-“ He bit inside of your thigh, sucking a gentle bruise. “James.”
He didn’t listen to you. If he ever did that was not it definitely.
“I’m listening. Continue.” Kisses, soft bites started decorating your body.
His hands placed next to your waist. His teeth brushed along the band of your thong. You wanted to raise your hips. But the way he looked up at you, the darkness in his eyes, made you stop.
You licked your lips, closing your eyes to concentrate. “We continue lying to our close ones and soon enough the lies would get out of—“ You stopped as he curled his finger like a hook to pull down your thong.
He mumbled something that you were sure was Russian as he got close to your heat. His eyes looked into your eyes. You knew he was daring you to stop.
If you stop I’ll stop too bunny.
He didn’t need to speak for you to understand.
“—hands. Lies get out of our hands. It is too risky and it does not worth it. We both know that this affair does not take LONG!”
He licked a stripe over your slit. As his cold fingers separated your folds. He loved to torture you like this.
“I don’t want any of us to get hurt.” You manage to finish your speech as you felt the familiar tingles build up.
The tip of his tongue flicked your clit and you had to hold on to something, his hair, to stop your thighs to close around his head.
“See this is where you are wrong, bunny. There isn’t any chance where you can hurt me...” He said as his fingers collected some of your juices, raising them to his lips. “Unless you try to neglect me of your sweet nectar.” He sucked his fingers clean, you heard a tiny ‘hmm’ as his fingers touched his tongue.
He raised his head to look at you when he was circling around your weeping hole. “Answer this, do you want to hurt me bunny?” He wanted to make you weep as much as your pussy.
“N-no. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then why you try to break things off?” The tip of his finger slowly pushed into your whole. He pulled it back before you could enjoy this. “Are you going to try and break things off again?” Another question he didn’t need to hear its answer to. He could read it from your tearful eyes and slight pout. “Oh bunny.” He whispered to himself, pride filling his chest.
His finger went back to circling around your hole as he used another one to toy with your clit. You could not stop yourself from curling your toes and try to pull him closer.
That arrogonat smirk on his face made a comeback. “Are you going to flirt with other guys who I’m sure does not even know what a clit is?” You shook head your again and he pressed his thumb.
“Fuck.” You said as you squirmed under his touch.
“Not the answer I am looking for. Do you want to try again bunny?”
“I—I’m not going to flirt with other guy a—and ohgod!” He pushed one inch of his finger inside curling the tip so it would reach your spot. You didn’t stop so he wouldn’t either. “I’m not going break things o—off.”
One more inch and you knew you would start to drip onto seats. Before you knew it, his mouth got back onto your clit. “James!” You said again as you pulled onto his locks.
“Shit! It’s only been a week but your pussy is crying out f’ me.” He said as he stood back up.
Your legs started shaking by the time. You whimpered at the lost contact of his fingers and lips. You also missed seeing him with your thighs wrapped around his head.
You knew if you touched yourself he would bite your fingers and deny you any sort of release. He quickly unfastened his belt and lowered his pants and boxers just low enough to take out his cock.
The tip was swollen red it was starting to leak some precum as he pressed it on your clit. “You are an attention whore bunny. It’s been only a week and I find you cosy with another guy. This deserves punishment don’t you think?”
“Please! I’ve been just trying to get your attention.” He smiled at your confession as he aligned his tip.
“Tell me you are mine and mine only. If you tell me that, I’ll give you what you want.”
“I’m yours James. I’m only yours, I do not belong to anybody else.” He started slowly push into you.
He leaned over you to fix the hair got on your face. His lips brushed along yours when you moaned as he found the spot. Your legs started to got down but he held them back. Pushing your bent knee to your chest as he started moving.
His hips started rutting into you slowly. “So pretty like this bunny. All spread out for me.” His tongue darted out from his lips to giving you a longing kiss. All teeth and tongue, full of lust and desire.
His large hands pulled down your strapless top, letting your tits out. His tongue clicked on top of mouth. “And thinking I would be sharing them with some dickhead.” He pushed into you hardly, making you jump into his arms.
“I don’t share bunny. Never.” You knew he meant more with those words.
Air inside the car was getting thick because of your panting. His fingers started playing with your nipples to get them erect as he held your tits together and started licking and sucking both of them.
“Not the teeth ah!” You tried to protest but he had already sunk his teeth into your extra-sensitive flesh. Sweet melody of your cries caused him to increase speed. He wanted more.
You yelped as you tried to find something to hold onto, best thing you found was the back of his shoulder as you pressed your nails against his skin. Bruises and scratches would be greeting both of you as first thing in the morning but it didn’t bother you as long as it came with pleasure.
“FuckFuckFuck!” Familiar coil started to form under your belly button, and you threw your head back. “James, please please…”
“Wanna cum bunny? Is that it? Mumblin’ because you are too close?” He said after detaching from your nipples with a pop. The little numb was all swollen and covered in saliva.
“Y-yes oh.” He slammed his hips onto yours with more force and stayed pressed into you. “Cum for me bunny. Cream all over my cock, fuck, you filthy girl, so eager for a release.” He said as he stopped your wriggling hips against is. “Humpin’ me like a cute lil’ bunny.”
Your hips started moving involuntarily, chasing after your release. He helped you with continuing the pound into you. You were chanting his name unable to form more coherent words or sentences.
“That’s it bunny. Cum for me come on! I’ve got you.” Just after he was finished your release hit you like a wave, causing you to lose all the control of your mind and body.
But he didn’t stop, he increased his pace. Chasing his own release using your numb body. “‘So pretty like this bunny. Makes me want to keep you all to myself.”
“I’m all yours.” You whispered, truly meant it. As you became used to the swell on your chest each time you look at him.
You were really his.
“Yeah? Are you going to take my cum? Let me breed you? I’m sure you would love that don’t you bunny? All swollen with my cum, looking at me with those pretty eyes. Fuck!”
“Yes, yes yes give it to me please.”
“Fucking take it. You little cumslut.” You felt the wetness and warmth of his release shoot right inside of you.
He stood there with your legs wrapped around his waist. Looking at your tired and ruined figure. Taking the sight in just before he slowly pulled out.
“We—“ You tried to speak up, trying not to show him how much you missed his cock inside you already.
As he was putting his clothes back on you once were aware of this situation.
There was no We, you two were just fucking whenever one of you needed some release. No matter what you do to get his attention, all you would get was his dick pounding into you. It won’t be his heart.
Sound of glove compartment’s being closed made you raise on your elbows to look at him.
You saw him take out some tissues to wipe off his leaking cum. “Are you on the pill?” You shook your head, you knew how those were messing up with you. “I’m not ovulating, it’s fine.” He shook his head, “Still gotta get you some plan B. We shouldn’t be risking it.”
“Sure.” You tried to swallow the ache in your throat, and your pride.
You fixed your top and found your thong on the ground, raising it to put it on. Tension between the two of you was so thick that a saw could not even cut it.
He got back on his seat and started the engine. “The sun is about to rise, I can drive to a diner and got us some breakfast. There is a place I know makes your favourite. They are also good at making it.” He couldn’t hide his smile when he saw your smile at the mention of the food. He loved making you smile like that.
Sleep was the last thing on your mind, since he fucked your brains out. Since it had been more than 10 hours since you last ate something; growling sounds from your stomach was about to come. “Sounds good but I want to wear my skirt first.”
“Sure bunny.” He said as he tossed your skirt back to you.
And it was a second, just a second, that he felt like he could get used to it.
He could get used to having breakfast with you. He could get used to your face being the first thing he saw as he started his day. He could get used to having sex with only one person, someone really means something to him.
But when your phone buzzed, and he saw your dad’s name on the screen he got back into reality.
You sent it to voicemail, and leaned closer to him over the table. He saw the same smile again on your lips and the familiar spark on your eyes.
“So what do you say? Your place or mine?”
He smiled back at you, leaning over you. “Which one do you prefer, bunny?” He knew he could go on as long as you looked at him like that.
As long as you looked at him with love. Even if you were just realizing, he was already an addict for it.
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#dbf!bucky#dbf!bucky barnes smut#dbf!bucky barnes x reader#dbf!bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes series
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streamer!ellie pt.2
summary: i hated the other one of this that i made, so REMAKE TIEM!!!
warnings: miiinor sexual content, shit talking, gay people 😒
authors note: heheheh ples don’t flop this time..
- during her faceless days, she opened up a po box so ppl could send her things, and she made an amazon wishlist and she unboxed stuff on stream 😍😍
- one day she was unboxing a giant box of cat toys. string, those little feather stick things, even that weird automatic flapping fish thing (that she secretly loves and taped to her back one time)
- she was playing with this one toy that was a little fishing reel, and it had string and a little fish on the bottom. she went on and onnn about how shes a self proclaimed “fishing master” while garf chased it around, letting out little meows and growls of frustration.
- eventually, she lost her grip and let go of the pole. she bent down to pick it up, forgetting that her face would be in view. thus, the chat started blowing up.
ewwwbruh: FACE REVEAL
ewwife: EW WE CAN SEE UR FACE
ewwife: JUST THE SIDE BUT WE CAN SEE YOUU
ewssidechick: her nose looks so rideable…
- she got distracted petting garfield, and didn’t realize anything until she stood up. she was getting tagged over and over again on twitter, blurry pictures of her face (curtesy of the shitty webcam) circulating through her subreddit.
- “guys. im gonna erase this from ur memory…” and she literally held up this goofy ass hypnotizer pendelum and started fake hypnotizing everyone like “that never happenedddd” “you don’t know what i look likeeee” “that was fakeeee” “chat that was not reallll”
- and everyone literally js went along with it and pretended it never happened. like ppl were tweeting about it and everyone was like “huh??? what are u talking about bruh??”
- she did the same thing after falling off her rainbow unicorn scooter 😞
- one time she revealed that the “ew” in her username stood for her initials, and everyone was making the most horrendous guesses. elliam willace being the favorite one.
- “guys, my name is not edward wilson??? i am…not a man”
- shes gotten into so much drama…multiple notes app apologies have been issued via her instagram story.
- people would ask her opinions on other streamers, and she’d literally just be like “…i have no idea who that is.” and people would get so MADDDD but homegirl is literally just blatantly unaware
- or she would know , and would literally be like “they’re honestly super annoying and i would rather kill myself than watch them but whatever floats ur boat ig!”
- she played that “womp womp womp womppp” sound effect on her soundboard afterwards.
- SPEAKING OF. she abuses that soundboard sooo much. its so obnoxious and annoying like I SWEARRR!!! she’ll tell a horrible pun and play the crowd laughing and cheering sound effects while literally no one laughed.
“guys. whats the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament??”
“…live streaming.”
(crowd cheering sound effect)
“nooo thank you thank you, you’re all too kind, really!!”
- meanwhile chat was dead silent.
- every time she gets to choose her own name on a game its some dumb shit like "jizzmaster" or "chris fucker"
- “it appears you have entered innapropriate content.” “OHHH LOOK AT EPISODE LOOK AT THESE CORPORATE BIGWIGS TRYING TO CONTROL THE LITTLE MAN???”
- she just ended up naming him “chris phucker”
- like when she played episode on stream and made up really annoying voices for all the characters and made her character look like an elderly man, and made the love interest look like you 😍😍
- she messes up sm on games when she streams normally, but when you're there? she is LOCKED THE FUCK IN. sitting there so focused the entire time just to show off
- whenever she randomly goes silent she just starts SINGING. it's either nicki minaj or some fucking fnaf song
"IS THIS THE THANKS THAT I GET FOR PUTTING U BITCHES ON???"
- speaking of, her favorite fnaf song is def “stay calm” cuz she loves saying “hey kids. Nice to eat ya.”
- bought one of those "i paused my game to be here" tshirts…ironically. you refuse to let her wear it in public
- beefs w kids on fortnite sm... she has definitely gotten banned for saying she was gonna bomb a kids house or fuck their mom 😞
- every time she plays a game, she'll literally sit there and watch an 8 hour long video about the lore. she'll plop down on the couch and watch it like a movie
"did you know everyone actually thought that fnaf one took place in 1993, but it was actually 1992?"
- she definitely had you sit next to her when she played through fnaf because she was lowk scared the entire time whenever she heard you walking around the house while she was playing she'd hear footsteps in the hallway and be like. WHAT THE FUCKKK
-she'd have you right next to her, laying your head on her shoulder and messing with her free hand. if you fell asleep, she would be sitting there slapping her hand over her mouth whenever she gets jumpscared bc she doesn't want you to wake up 😞
- sometimes, while she streams , she plays one handed games and lets you sit and draw on her arm for fun. even got you a whole set of those skin markers so u could go ABSOLUTELY HAM. she got one drawing you did that said “r + e 4eva” tattooed in ur handwriting…such a sap
- she loves watching fan edits of herself...AND OF YOU. she'll be on her burner account with a whole collection on tiktok of edits of you.
ewwsbiggestfan: shes so bad i want her to hit me w her car...
- speaking of. imagine her using that account to make shitty capcut edits of you like
- shes ur biggest fan ongod
-WHILE WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF “fans”…what if i made a completely new origin story for streamer!ellie and reader. what if they were both streamers….
- OKAY SO BASICALLY.
- you had started streaming about a year before ellie did. butttt, you two did very different types of streaming.
- you weren’t very into like, SERIOUS video games. sure, you played some stuff, like animal crossing and roblox and the sims, but nothing more than that.
- that wasn’t what you were streaming though.
- ever since you were younger, you had been wayyyy into…literature.
-by literature i mean fanfiction. heaps of it.
- actors, anime characters, BOOK CHARACTERS, you were in DEEP
- sometimes, for fun, you used to read them out loud in stupid voices. when you were alone, or with your friends, it was very entertaining
- that’s when you got the idea to start streaming it. if it could entertain your friends, and you, whos to say it wouldn’t entertain other people.
- well, it definitely did. in your first year, you hit 10k followers. people loved you. theyd make edits of you, send in requests of fics for you to read, everything.
- a while later, ellie started gaining more and more popularity. out of all the incomes of fame, fanfiction was the most. abundant!
- one day, you got a request to read an ellie x reader fic. at the time, you barely had any idea who she was, but you decided to just go with it 🤞🏽
- “who the fuck is elliam willace???”
- the fanfic was definitely very…graphic!
- “your hips rolled onto her thigh, her slender, tattooed hand palming at your waist. ‘you’re doing so good babe, fuck.’-“ “GUYS. ISN’T SHE NOT ON MUTE RIGHT NOW???”
- you couldn’t help but giggle the rest of the fic, feeling a nagging heat in your core. you didn’t even know who the girl was, but if this fic was accurate, someone would have to sedate you.
-“im actually. gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. GUYS. who is this woman…is she real… if she is. things are about to get WICKED.”
- not very thankful to you at the moment, she was very real. apparently, you and her were streaming at the same time, and your followers raided her stream telling her she was reading about you. her curiosity was obviously piqued, and why would she NOT join the stream?
- creeperewman: im definitely real!
- the text on your screen literally made your stomach fall into your ass. you stood up and legit just walked out of the room, camera still on. was she there the whole time???
- creeperewman: aww 😞 where’d she go she’s so badddd
- you eventually returned after a minute of calming yourself down, and low and behold, she gifted you 100 subs and followed you on instagram.
- she was definitely very real!! and that fanfic was…lore accurate. to say the least 😊
- after you two started dating, the two of you would often show up on eachothers streams. ellie, teaching you how to play cod, and you, reading with her.
- she secretly loves reading the fics people write about her and making fun of them, and every time you stream with her shes “subtly” hinting that you should read about her
sitting there pulling on her collar, looking away like “gee, wonder who you’re gonna pick today” with the worst fake laugh ever.
- “ellie can barely ride a scooter, idk why she’s in the mafia rn…” “you fall off ONE TIME and all of a sudden you cant ride a scooter. bullshit.”
- she makes fun of all the dumb pet names like “babygirl” and “darling” and randomly calls you them and bursts out laughing
- you still read those fics when you’re bored sometimes. and ellie MERCILESSLY makes fun of you for it
“yknow, if you missed me that bad, you should’ve just told me.”
#streamer!ellie#ellie williams au#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x f!reader#ellie williams x black!reader#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams
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play fake | part five
series play fake
— ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
zya's notes thank u for being patient with me! <3
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
You weren't a cuddler.
At least, not with Rafe. When you fell asleep on his bed last night, he scoffed at the sight. How tired you were. How you immediately fell off post-orgasm. He had other plans, to make you come more, but it was obvious it wasn't going to happen. Instead, he helped you get under the comforter, and when you did, you instinctively pulled to the edge of the mattress, like you knew to put as much distance between you and him.
Rafe thought it would change by morning. That you would find yourself in his arms and he would be able to tease you about it. You didn't. Your hands tucked under your head, you faced the wall, laid on your side, and you did everything possible to avoid contact with him.
For some reason, it pissed him off.
Like he was mad at your subconscious when you didn't do anything wrong. He thought—assumed—you would let him in. When he poured a bit of himself last night, letting himself be vulnerable with you, he thought it was a gateway for you to return the sentiment. But, somewhere, deep down, you still didn't trust him.
He was the one who got out of bed first.
He went to the ensuite and took a shower, washing away his sweat and subtle case of hangover. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. He doesn't know if it's because, halfway through the night, clarity dawned on him or because he was crossed with a different drug than his usual high. Either way, he was grateful.
Until the ringing started.
It happened once. It was your phone; the ringtone too obnoxious to be his. Then, it ended. And started again. This happened a couple more times until Rafe got annoyed and stepped out of the bathroom to check on who the fuck was calling you so early in the morning.
It was your job.
He softens for a moment. He forgot that you had shit to do, that the two of you were on opposite sides of the economic spectrum. He may have luxury and all the time in the world but you had work. You weren't kidding when you said you needed to pull doubles just to stay afloat.
He wanted to wake you up and give you the phone to handle it. But, something about your sleeping position makes him hesitate. You look so peaceful. Calm. Like you haven't had a good night's rest in a long time and he wasn't going to ruin that.
So, he did something he probably shouldn't.
He turned your phone off.
He went back to the bathroom to finish the rest of his routine and when he came out, you were starting to stir. Your hands were rubbing the sleepy haze out of your eyes and you were searching around the room to figure out where you were.
"You're up." He acknowledges, stepping out into his room. "Get ready. We're heading out."
"Go where?" You mumble drowsily, trying to remember your own name right now, much less try to get ready. "Wait, what time is it?"
Rafe doesn't say anything, glancing at the present that sits on his desk. He grabs it, throwing it onto the bed, which you manage to catch in the nick of time. "Here, before I forget." He declares, going to his closet to exchange his sweatpants for some outside attire.
You look inside the bag, more thoroughly this time. You counted a total of fourteen Plan B packs, the stems of the tulips were slightly-wilted from lack of water, and the envelope isn't a letter but rather a thick wad of something—like cash.
"I'm not taking this." You pull out the envelope and slide it across the bed. Rafe glances down at it, then back to you, a scowl forms on his face.
"You don't know what it is."
"It's money," you say, easily. "That wasn't part of the deal."
"So what?" He steps forward, closing in the distance as he stands before the bed, grabbing the envelope and holding it out to you again. "You need the money. Take it."
"No." You cross your arms, stubbornly.
God, this fucking early in the morning?
He clenches his teeth. "Why the fuck not?"
You take a beat before you answer. "You wouldn't get it."
"Try me."
He looks genuinely serious about knowing your answer. Not just another way to pick it apart and fight back, but to be willing. It makes you consider telling him the truth. Sighing, you explain. "It's just... it means that whenever you fuck up, you get to put some money in it and it fixes everything. I refuse to let you think that you can wave some cash in front of my face and everything will be forgiven."
There's more reasons why you don't accept the money, not for the exchange you're doing, but you rather not get into that right now. That explanation, in this context, was the most appropriate.
"That's not... I..." Rafe trails off, his mouth slightly slack from the confession. That's not what he meant to do, but there's some merit behind your words, nonetheless. It is easier to flash his wallet than apologizing for any misdemeanor he committed. It's something he does. It's something he learned from his father. "I'm not."
You chuckle. "Say that more convincingly and I might believe you."
Rafe swallows, watching the gentle smile light up your lips. He didn't realize how much he didn't appreciate it before. Not until you gave him the whole silent treatment and called him out.
"It's not," he starts again with a clear of his throat. "I do that. I'm not gonna lie about that. But, in this case... It wasn't just that. You needed the money. I took it out of your paycheck to buy Plan B. It cost nothing to me."
You don't answer him, glancing back at the bag. "You already bought me Plan Bs."
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can cover rent with fucking contraceptive pills."
Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you take his words with some consideration. You admit, this is a version of his apology, no matter how pretentious it may seem. With that, you accept the envelope out of his hand. "Thank you."
Rafe is pleased at that. That you finally didn't give him such a hard time to help you. That you just accepted it, even if it was done with some initial hesitation.
Pulling himself off the mattress, Rafe turns back to his closet, only for your voice to stop him.
"You know, it's a bit presumptuous of you to assume we'll be having sex this much."
He looks at you, seeing you tilt your head at him in a challenge. The bag lifted off your lap to demonstrate the amount he bought.
"It's so I'll ever have to hear you complain about spending money again."
You chuckle. There it is, the cover of assholery to make up for the vulnerability he exposed just moments ago. "If this is the rate we'll be going, you should've just bought me birth control."
"Fuck off, it's not going to be a regular thing."
You laugh. "I guess I'll just use these with my other boyfriends. Since we won't be needing them."
Rafe stills. He knows you're teasing him, to get a rise out of anything you can find yourself on. But something in his blood runs hot as those words escape your lips. At the idea of you with others. He turns back to the bed, lowering himself to your level before grabbing your cheeks in one palm.
It wasn't done roughly. That's the reason why your smirk is so fucking conceited right now. He wants to do something to make you take back your words.
But nothing came to mind. Not this morning. Not after last night.
Instead, he mutters, "you play too fucking much."
He releases you with a light shove, enough for you to fall back against the pillows. Rafe grabs the first thing out of his closet and walks back to the bathroom, and just when he's about to close the door, he hears your laughter erupt from behind.
—
After getting ready, by wearing whatever you could find in Sarah's closet—which Rafe made you use because she hasn't been home in over two months—you called to check in with Sailor. Your phone was off, for some odd reason, and when you called to make sure the place is running regardless of your absence, you agreed to go to whatever the fuck Rafe planned.
It was shopping.
You feel out of place the moment you arrive at the outlet downtown of Figure Eight. It's mainly for Kooks to come and shop, the boutiques and storefronts are out of your price-range for so many reasons. You thought it was a cruel joke for Rafe to give you some money, only to expect you to spend it in places like here.
"No," you shake your head for the umpteenth time, moving onto the next space. For the past twenty minutes, Rafe's been trying to get you to stop and try on clothes. You've been declining all of the options. You know you won't be able to afford them so there's no real point. You hope you reject enough of them that the both of you can leave.
"You have to pick a place at some point."
"I don't see why we have to shop here." You turn to him. "There's plenty of places near The Cut we can go to. It's cheaper."
His expression is sharp, as if the suggestion disgusted him to consider. “I'm not going to The Cut for their cheap-ass clothes."
"Well we're not going here either because there's no way in hell I can afford these clothes, Rafe," you retort, crossing your arms. He said he needed to get you some new clothes because your dress was too short, and since you don’t have many options in your closet, you agreed. You just didn’t expect to file for bankruptcy in order to afford it.
You're about to walk off again, furthering the sidewalk to preview the other shops you can't afford, when Rafe grabs your arm.
"You're not paying, alright?" He asserts. "Now, get into the shop before you piss me off."
You don't move. Not with that attitude.
"What's the magic word?"
"Fuck off."
You imitate a buzzer. "Wrong."
Rafe closes into you until he's right in front of your face. "If you are trying to get me to say please, think again, sweetheart, because there's no way in hell that I'm going to beg you for this."
You aren't intimidated. Glancing down at his hands, you ask, "how's your wrists, by the way?"
He rolls his eyes, forging annoyance, before pulling you to the nearest boutique. He knew it wasn't done without some willingness on your end, that your comment satisfied some power trip, and the two of you slipped through the glass doors of a fancy establishment.
An older woman welcomes you. She asks what you were looking for and Rafe answers before you get the chance to. When the saleswoman gathered the directive, she headed off to grab a couple of dresses from the store.
Rafe requested a private room. Since they had no such thing, this agitated him. However, since the store is mostly-empty right now and no one is using the fitting room lounge, Rafe’s mood slightly lightens. Sitting on the designated waiting couch, you head into one of the fitting rooms to try on the first item.
"What is this going to be for?" You ask, tugging on the strapless dress against your braless chest.
"There's a gala next week for Cameron Development. We're going."
You hum in response, acknowledging that this isn't a spontaneous trip done out of the kindness of his heart but because of your deal. The ploy you're fronting for Ward to see Rafe as reliable. You can't help but feel a small dose of disappointment.
Glancing at the mirror for a final check, you step out to find Rafe leaning against the long cream couch with his legs spread apart.
Rafe watches as you exit from the stall, reluctance pouring into each step you take. When you stop in front of him, you stretch your arms out to let him see the full details, before dropping them mere seconds later. "Good enough?" You ask.
"Turn around." He commands with a whirl of his ringed finger, making you roll your eyes but doing as he says. He studies the back. "Try another one."
Without another word, you head back to the room to pull off another dress from the rack. It became a routine for you: trying on one, doing a little spin for Rafe to see the completed look, waiting for his decision, before returning back to your stall to repeat.
None of the dresses have been a good fit, meaning you liked them, but Rafe found enjoyment in the process. This surprised him. He always hated going shopping for Wheezie or Sarah—especially the latter—but something about going with you, making you try clothes on for him, getting his opinions, stirs something primal in him.
He had to adjust his pants on the fourth dress you tried. That one revealed too much of your ass.
Despite your initial reluctance, you were starting to have fun. You never got the chance to be this girl—the one who spends their days dressing up, acting like a princess getting ready for her first ball—and it makes you excited. A little happy. But, you'll never admit it to Rafe.
However, your options are quickly dwindling. The saleswoman had to go to the front to gather some more dresses for you. As you pull the last one off the rack, you step out of the fitting room.
"Fuck." Rafe swears under his breath, watching you come out with a new piece. A long satin dress that clings to every curve of your body, showing off every impressive inch of your cleavage while leaving more to the imagination and a high slit that cuts up mid-thigh. It might be his favorite.
It was definitely yours.
"What do you think?" You prompt timidly, the lack of outright comment about your attire made you a bit antsy for his thoughts.
“I…” Rafe trails off, his eyes lifted to find yours. “What do you think?”
"Well," you spin, demonstrating with the little twirl that Rafe always makes you do. "I like it. I think it fits me."
"Then, let's get it."
You shake your head, laughing at the idea. "It's outrageously expensive. I can't afford it in this lifetime."
His expression shifts to an unreadable one. "I said I got it."
"And I don't think that's necessary. I can take care of myself." You say, which is true. You know Rafe has money, and you know he wouldn't feel a dent in his wallet if he bought it for you. However, the idea makes you uncomfortable. Not because he was spending money, but because you're letting someone else take care of you. Have power over something you spent your entire life controlling. It feels... wrong.
His jaw locks, his words sharper than before. "I took you here, that means I pay."
"No." You stand firm, shaking your head. "It's fine. I'll just try on something more affordable."
You go back to the dressing room without allowing Rafe to get another word in and he slumps back into his seat with mounting agitation. Rubbing his tense jaw, he can't seem to understand why you won't let him do things for you.
He's capable. He has money. All of this rationalization leads to one infuriating conclusion: why the fuck do you act like he has none of that?
It's simple.
You don't trust him.
"Rafe." You call out. It pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts and he turns to the closed door of your stall. "I can't get the zipper out. Can you help me?"
He was on his feet before you finished your sentence. Knocking, he hears the soft click of the lock as he pushes the door in, stepping inside the limited space. Standing in front of the large mirror, your back is turned to him.
Glancing over your shoulders, you offer him a sheepish look, "just pull it down. I think it's stuck."
He wordlessly steps forward before grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing it to the side. His large hands descend from your neckline to the tiny zipper tucked behind the fabric.
You watch him through the mirror, his expression is hard but his eyes are completely focused on the task at hand. A small smile rises to your lips.
When he lowers the zipper down to the end of the teeth, just at the midsection of your dress, he turns back to you. "Done."
"Thank you, boyfriend." You hum with a grateful grin, holding onto the front of your dress as it started to spill over from the lack of restraint. When you turn around, you’re surprised to find Rafe remaining. "I need some privacy to change—"
"Drop your arms."
The demand startles you. "For what?"
Rafe has the strongest urge to rip off your crossed arms himself, your questions delaying him of what he deserves, but he knows you. At least, he's getting to. Even if his mind is caught in a turmoil right now and he just wants to do something to prove to himself that you bare some semblance of trust in him, he can't force you. Not when he has an inch of restraint left in him.
He wants you to be willing.
Swallowing hard, he confesses. "Because I want to see you."
You can tell it took everything in him to say that. The corner of your lips finds your smile again. "You could've asked nicely."
"That is me asking nicely."
You chuckle, your arms still guarded over your chest. His eyes glance down. "Strip."
"Is this part of the arrangement?" You tilt your head, teasing out the moment a little longer. "An inspection for your girlfriend?"
He cups the underside of your jaw, almost in a chokehold. His eyes are hard on you, his patience wearing thin. "Stop playing with me, sweetheart."
You look up to him, doe-eyed and innocent. "Remove your hand, darling."
His jaw clenches at your own command, his grip around your throat sends a pleasurable sensation straight to your core. With great reluctance, he drops it.
"Who knew you'd do well with instructions?" You grin, taking a step back, closer to the mirror. Your heart is hammering with anticipation.
"If you don't remove them in five seconds, I'm ripping them off."
Excitement stirs in you. At the way he looks at you. The way he wants you. Rafe watches as you slowly drop your arms to your side, the flimsy satin glides off your body into a puddle by your ankles.
His breathing hitch in his throat as his hungry eyes take in your naked body, complete from head to toe, saved for a pair of panties hung around your hips that he's positive won't be there in the next few minutes.
There's a palpable silence. His eyes are intense but his words are obsolete. You needed something from him, some vocalization of his thoughts. Placing a hand on your hips, you ask, "did I pass?"
"You have a fucking nipple piercing."
You laugh at the astonishment in his tone, glancing down to your full tits and seeing the metal barbells lined through your nipples. "Is it not worthy enough of a Kook?" You ask with a tease, running the pad of your thumb over the sensitive bud, biting back a moan. "Am I going to get punished?"
He groans. Having enough, Rafe steps forward and captures your lips with his. His force pushes you against the cool mirror.
"I can't fucking stand you." He murmurs, his hand traveling down to cup one breast in his palm. "You were hiding these from me? The whole fucking time?"
The way he's handling you feels so good. "Didn't know I had to share everything with you."
"You do." Rafe asserts, his fingers pinching your sensitive tip and causing your whole body to arch. "God, they're sensitive, aren't they?"
You nod, needy. His hot mouth descends and his tongue swirls around the metal bar, eliciting a whimper from you. It's very sensitive, and you steady yourself against the mirror as Rafe lowers his other hand over your hips, pushing your panties down.
Rubbing your clit with one hand, teasing you with his mouth, you can't help but build towards a climax at the double sensation.
"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers against your bare skin, his eyes flickering up to meet your heavy-lid gaze. "Parading around in dresses all day, trying them on for me?"
You feel yourself getting closer, but you can't help but tease him. "They weren't for you—"
His hand covers your mouth, the one slick with your arousal, and the removal of his touch leaves you empty and aching. You regret it instantly. "I don't want to hear you mouth me off again. You had your fun." He warns, his expression hard and resolute. "Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to pick up that dress, fold it neatly on that chair, and I'm going to buy it."
A protest forms in your throat, but he catches it, deepening the pressure of his palm against your mouth. "Then I'm going to fuck you against this mirror. Remind you who you're with. Is that enough instructions for you, sweetheart?"
Desperate for a finish, you nod. Rafe watches as you pick up the dress and fold the fabric over the chair, before returning back to your previous spot.
"Turn around." He commands. You face the mirror, seeing your bareness in the reflection and the eagerness on your features. "Spread your legs."
You do, obeying him, and he chuckles darkly at the sight. "God, you're so fucking obedient now, aren't you?" He taunts, his eyes flicking to your face in the reflection as his hand lands a slap against your ass. "If I told you to touch yourself right now, you'd listen, wouldn't you?"
You would. The realization makes your face burn, your arms instinctively went to cover your chest. His expression hardens. "Not so fast, sweetheart," he grabs your wrist. "Do I need to tie them up for you too? Drop them."
Your pulse sputters, you lower your arms to your side, tucked. "I knew there was a good girl in there somewhere."
"Rafe." You whimper softly, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please fuck me."
He grins at your plea, removing his slacks and briefs in one swift motion. You watch his swollen cock spring free, the tip running beads of his precum. Your mouth waters and you resist the urge to squeeze your legs together.
"You want this dick, sweetheart?" He teases, approaching you from behind. "You want me to fill that sweet, tight cunt?"
"Yes," you beg, "yes, please."
"Put your hands on the mirror." He instructs, his hand grabbing a handful of your hair, tipping your head back to meet your gaze in the reflection. "Look at yourself when I fill you."
Lining his erection against your entrance, you watch as he slowly enters your pussy from behind. The image is so gratifying and sensual. "So tight for me," he groans, a hand grabbing your hips to steady him. "Feels so fucking good."
Your eyes roll back to the back of your head as Rafe pumps in you, finding a pace, the angle from behind allowing him to hit deeper spots. You hold onto the mirror tighter, trying to contain your moans and the pleasure coursing through you.
"Look at you," he mumbles against the shell of your ear, causing you to meet his gaze through the mirror. "Taking me so fucking well."
You nod desperately, moaning at his thrusts roughly slams against your walls. "You fill me up so good."
"Just for me, right, sweetheart?" He lands a sloppy kiss against the side of your neck, to which you respond with a mewl. "My fucking girl."
Nodding, your eyes flutter at the way he rocks inside of you, your walls clenching around his length.
"Rub your tits for me." Rafe demands roughly, his pace growing more fervent as he watches your body through the reflection. You do as he says, using a hand to pinch and pull your pierced nipples between your fingertips, the sensitivity of your buds adding to the quickly-rising climax. "Fuck, I love watching you do that."
The praise unburdens something deep inside of you and your goal becomes to make him feel satisfied. Steady yourself with one hand on the mirror, your handprint greasing the clean silver, you play with your nipples further, twisting and moaning in your own pleasure. "Like that?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods heavily, his chest sheen with a thin layer of sweat.
"Fuck." His rhythm goes faster, the sound of his balls hitting the back of your ass echoing in the empty lounge and overwhelming pleasures causing your eyes to close shut.
Rafe catches that. Pulling you into him, with your arched back pressed against his chest, he roughly grabs your throat and forces you to open them, staring right at your reflection. "You're going to watch me fuck you, sweetheart," he pants into your ear, the sight before you driving flips into your stomach. "And you're going to fucking remember this."
Your hair is a complete mess, his hand wrapped around your throat as the other gripping your hips harshly to steady his sloppier thrusts, and you're being fucked in a public dressing room and loving each second of it.
Both of your moans and his grunts echoes. Your peak rising.
"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your thighs burning from the intensity of Rafe's pumps and your position. "I think I’m going to come—"
Someone calls your name.
Rafe stills.
"Are you in there?" The old saleswoman asks, her voice soft and delicate. You know she would die of a heart attack if she looked inside this room. "I brought more dresses for you. Where did your boyfriend go?"
"I—" Rafe begins to slowly rock against your body, his smile devilish in the reflection. "I–I'm here." You choke.
"Where did your boyfriend go? Did he leave you alone?"
No, you answer in your head, but your words are muddled as Rafe quickens his pace. Not enough where you can hear the sound of your pussy squelching, but enough for you to feel the returning buzz of your orgasm.
"Answer the nice lady, sweetheart," Rafe mumbles into your ear with a smile, pushing your hair to the side, as you send him a glare. Which quickly turns into a look of ecstasy as he hits your g-spot. You slap a hand over your mouth. "Don't be rude."
You had many words for Rafe, but none of them were coming out. You could only do so much. "He's–he's fine," you declare shakily, "I think he went to—" you let out a small whimper. Rafe's hand is now rubbing your clit in unison to his penetration.
You want to kill him.
You want to come so badly.
"He went where?" She prompts sweetly.
"The bathroom!" You shout with a half-moan, Rafe chuckling as he lays kisses on your backside, against your shoulder blades, increasing his thrusts. Your walls twitching around his cock.
"We don't have a bathroom."
Rafe tsk against your burning skin, shaking his head in forged disappointment. "Bad little liar."
"I'm going to kill you," you croak. Your climax builds so fast, you're trying hard to hold it off as long as possible.
"How are you going to come, then?" He taunts through the reflection, watching the way your body rocks with each drive. Your legs are weakening. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head desperately, almost to tears, gripping the mirror edge for the life of you. "Please, don't."
"Then answer her."
"Hello?" The woman calls out, her voice pitched with a slight annoyance from your lack of response. "Do you want to try on the dresses? Should I bring them to you—"
"You can just le–leave it out there!" You moan with abandon. There was no way to avoid it.
"Are you sure—"
"Go away, please!" You plead, Rafe landing a hard thrust against you and causing your knees to finally buckle. He catches your waist with one strong arm, holding you upright.
The old woman huffs at your brusqueness, her little footsteps padding across the floor and exits from the lounge. With that signal, Rafe slams into you, with harsh desperate beats, to make up for the lost time. You come within a matter of seconds.
Worn out, he holds you up for a few more pumps before he spills into you. His hot cum filling your cunt. You're catching your breath, your face is completely flushed, and Rafe holds you tightly as the both of you come down from your high.
With enough strength, you pull yourself up and lean against the mirror for support.
"That was rude of you," Rafe declares with a tease, going to grab his discarded clothes.
"I hate you." You pant, your legs wobbling from your own weight. "I hate you so much."
He chuckles, redressing himself. Watching him as he collects himself, his eyes glance over to the chair before finding your exhausted face. "Now, are you going to let me buy that dress or are we going to have to do this again?"
—
Rafe ends up buying the dress. You were no energy to argue, and when he pulls you to the register to purchase the expensive satin, the old saleswoman gives you a withering glare—either at your rude outburst or the product of your image being a clear indication of you being throughly-fucked in the dressing room—that you quickly exit the boutique.
It didn't stop at the clothes. Rafe also pulled you to a nearby jewelry store too. He got you a gold necklace; your argument was completely futile with one glance.
"The necklace was unnecessary." You complain, pulling out the gift-wrapped box in the passenger seat of his car. Rafe is driving you back to your house.
He glances at you from his peripheral vision. "You need to look the part."
"But did you have to buy the most expensive one?" You retort, glancing over to him. "There were cheaper options. There's even fake ones I saw at the end of the display."
His hand, resting on your thigh, squeezes the flesh. "You think I'll let my girl walk around with fake gold? Do you know what they'll say about me?"
"That you're financially responsible?"
He scoffs, pinching the inside of your legs. You giggle. "That I can't afford to give my girlfriend some nice things. I'm not fucking broke."
You roll your eyes, opening the box. Your fingers trace the gorgeous details of the necklace, landing on the pendant at the center. "R, huh?" You say with a tease, looking over to Rafe again.
He shrugs. "Had to let everyone know who you belong to."
You know this is a fake relationship, that this is nothing more than to keep his image clean, but you can't help but feel a buzz at the possessiveness of his words. It almost makes you feel like you’re his.
Rafe pulls up to your neighborhood and is about to pull up to your house, when you stop him. "Right here is fine," you announce, holding your hand over the clutch to make him park. He does, his brows furrowed at your abrupt reaction.
"I could drive up—"
"No, it's okay." You wave him off with a small smile, unbuckling your seat and gathering your things in the leg compartment. "The walk is good for me."
It isn't that far. It's just off the edge of your driveway, enough where it doesn't look like Rafe is coming into your house but close enough where he can see the front porch.
Grabbing your bags, you bid him a farewell. You close the door of the passenger side and rush up to your porch, Rafe waits until you make it into your house.
This is the second time you've done this. You never let him go further up your driveway. Don't let him meet you at the door. It was like you were hiding him—embarrassed of him.
His hand grips the steering wheel as he watches you ring your own doorbell, waiting a few moments before the door swings open.
And it was fucking Heyward and Maybank.
They set out to greet you, pulling you into a side hug while pointing at the bags in your hands, to which you shyly tuck behind your back to hide from them with little avail. Rafe tightens his grip against the wheel, his knuckles whitening, as he watches you step inside, closing the door—with them.
He should leave. He knows he should. That's what he promised himself he would do. But, knowing you’re in there, with two men, drives him to stay. He can't go up to your doorsteps, you wouldn't allow it, so he waited. And waited. And waited.
It was over an hour and neither Maybank or Heyward exited from your house. It drove Rafe furious. Deciding that was time, he turns off the engine and marches up to your porch, banging on the door.
You open it in a matter of seconds, afraid that you were getting raided by the cops. Your outfit had switched into a baggy tee with shorts—too fucking short, he decided—and your expression etched with surprise.
"Rafe? What–what are you doing here? I thought you left—"
"Where is he?" Rafe declares, glancing over your shoulders with tightened fists. Trying to gain control of himself before he snaps. "Where the fuck are they?"
"Who? JJ?"
"Is that it?"Rafe snaps, his anger rising in waves. "What the fuck is he doing here?"
"I...I was helping him...?" You answer hesitantly, watching his expression shift from rage to fury.
"Helping him with what? Fucking him?"
You blink back in surprise. Your words caught in your throat by his outrageous accusation that it renders you speechless. Rafe, catching it as hesitation, had enough. His last string of restraint snaps. Finally, he steps inside, forcing you in and slams the door close behind him.
He grabs you by the throat, his fingers gripping the sides, causing a pleasurable sensation to your core. "Maybe you're right," he declares lowly, his darkened gaze lowered to you. "You do need to be punished."
— part six here —
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style.
written by @lilystyles
my masterlist xx & style masterlist
authors note inspired by a dream i had about this boy HAHAHA so filthy but that's just him. (also i'm sorry if ur names emma! if it is it's still cute to be best friends w ur name twin :3) ALSO it's also inspired by style (taylor's version)!
brief description y/n has had a crush on harry since they were kids but he’s off-limits. him being her best friend’s brother and all she has never made a move, knowing emma wouldn’t approve. but lines are blurred one night and she doesn’t know if she can follow the rules like a good girl.
warnings! slight age gap, SMUT (m!receiving, fingering, daddy kink, choking, missionary, doggy) sexual tension, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. wordcount: [around 11.4k words, also unedited sorry:(]
fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader
* * * * *
Y/n wished she didn’t fancy him. Oh, she wished it so badly.
On every shooting star or eyelash, she had to decide whether she would wish to forget him or for him to finally notice her, it was a constant tug of war between the two.
Honestly, there were so many things going against him. He was completely unavailable to her and she wondered if that’s why she wanted him most. People always say you want what you can’t have. He was older than her by a few years, he was hardly much wiser but liked to act as if he was.
Or maybe was it just that he was a total prick most of the time, like seriously, so mean?
She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly attracted her to Harry the most. She knew why others liked him, it was because he was so fucking pretty you just wanted to cry. He was that kind of person. And obviously, she had noticed that slight minor detail.
She could agree that was one of the many reasons she had a massive crush on him. But she’d known him for years before he was this fuckboy fratboy who wore backward caps with the body of a Greek god and the filthiest mouth you’d ever heard. She knew him before it all. She knew him when he was just her best friend’s goofy older brother, and she’d liked him then too. Before he was smooth and his words had a sting, when he was just this little giggly loud guy.
She thinks to herself often that a piece of her would always belong to him, even if he didn’t know that. She had tried to like other boys, many many times, and though she did like them she didn’t feel even a smidge like how she felt when she saw Harry. The best way for her to describe being with someone who wasn’t Harry was like being in a state of complete darkness, only this dull twinkle of stars without any moon, and then suddenly the sun came up, all these colours painting the sky as it rose. Harry was the sun for her and those boys were just the stars.
Nearly all the time she wished for a distraction from him but that was hard considering he was always around, Y/n saw him every time she went to their house it was like totally unavoidable. They ran into each other at parties even though he was a few years older, it didn’t matter now they that all went to Uni together. She saw him everywhere! Even when she closed her eyes at night.
So tonight when she went out with Emma she was relieved and sad all at once that he wasn’t at the party, it meant she let loose more than she usually did, completely free of the worry of his judgments. She had a few shots but not enough to get her as wasted as Emma was. They danced and sang, and enjoyed themselves. Exams had been stressful and they needed a fun night, they’d spent months cooped up in the library using flashcards and reading the big textbooks. Y/n needed some time away from her laptop screen and desk. She needed to wear a tight dress, get flirted with, have some drinks and relax. She needed to fucking let loose.
She worked so hard and she was enjoying just forgetting all her worries, Harry included, for a few hours. Sweating and dancing to trashy music was something she had been dreaming of since the start of exam season.
However, the night had taken a slightly sour turn later in the evening when Emma took a few too many tequila shots in a row and spewed down herself, covering her pink dress and shoes and some of Y/n’s shoes too, in sick. She wished she could say this wasn’t a recurring thing but Emma always took it a little too hard on nights out especially when her brooding older brother wasn’t there to help team with Y/n and wrangle her home.
It wasn’t too late probably only midnight, which usually meant they were only just getting started on their drunken shenanigans. But Y/n had to admit she was okay with going home, home being Emma’s place she was roommates with Harry, they were fairly close siblings and their parents felt better knowing they were together. Y/n desperately wanted some water, maybe a snack and to lie down in Emma’s comfortable bed.
As she was trying to find an Uber during the busiest time and hold Emma up from collapsing onto the floor a familiar Irish voice filled Y/n’s ears. She snapped her head around. Oh, thank god.
“Babe! Where are you two off to?”
Y/n turned, “Niall! Hey, we are going home. Emma isn’t feeling too well.”
Y/n had managed to clean most of the spew off in one of the bathrooms at the Uni share house the party was being thrown at, but Emma was all wet from being wiped down and Y/n knew she needed to get her home like now. She was fading and needed her bed and a bottle of water in her, she wasn’t particularly worried but she would feel better if Harry was with her in case something happened.
“D’ya want a lift? I haven’t drunk anything I’m on my way to Paddy’s place,” He said. He looked very sober.
Paddy was his most recent fling.
“You are a gem, I could kiss you!” Y/n said squeezing his bicep in thanks.
Y/n was eternally grateful for him being her saviour, she slid Emma into the backseat and clipped her into the seatbelt, brushing the hair from her eyes. Even with sick all over she was still pretty, Y/n envied that the Styles family had such good genes it was ridiculous. They always looked gorgeous, Anne had created three beautiful children.
Niall knew where to go since he was friends with Harry too and Emma and Y/n of course.
Y/n kept checking through the mirror to make sure she was okay and when she saw the familiar home she sighed in relief at the sight. It was this fairly small duplex but their neighbours were nice and the house was one of Harry’s parent’s properties. So they had it pretty good for Uni students. Y/n was living in a big share-house with a bunch of other people. She wished she was this lucky.
She grabbed all their purses, jackets and keys before she kissed Niall on the cheek in thanks.
“Love you, Babe. Have fun with Paddy!” She winked, knowing Niall really liked this new guy.
Niall blushed a nice rosy colour. “Need any help getting her in?” He asked diverting the conversation.
Y/n shook her head and the two girls stumbled to the front door. Emma was slightly more awake now, her arms slinging around Y/n’s shoulders making the straps of her dress fall as Y/n hunted for the keys in Emma’s little clutch. Y/n had a key to their house for emergencies and she knew where they hid a spare, but she wasn’t going to hunt around in the dark for it.
The door opened before she found them in the clutch which had ten lipsticks that she was rummaging through.
His eyes were so green she felt like they were glowing in the dark. He didn’t say anything he just grabbed Emma and helped her inside. Whispering something to her kindly as Y/n made her way inside behind them. She toed her shoes off before she entered, not wanting to bring Emma’s sick in any more than it already would be.
Y/n sighed shutting the door behind her as she placed all their things in Emma’s room down the hall. Harry had put her on the bed and was taking her heels off for her. He was a good brother. He was protective over both his sisters even though Gemma was the oldest.
“She always goes to fucking far,” He muttered more to himself than Y/n. Who was finding Emma’s sleep clothes in her bedside drawers, knowing she couldn’t sleep in the sick-covered ones.
He didn’t sound annoyed at her or angry, just worried. He was a prick sure, but he cared about his family and friends. His small circle is what mattered most to him. Y/n knew his gruff and broody presence was the exterior of a very gentle soul. When he was at home drinking tea in pyjamas that was the real Harry, not some douchebag.
But she knew that he had a reputation for being a heartbreaker and a lot of people would warn you of him. But Y/n didn’t think that was the real him.
Y/n nodded in agreement, tiredly pushing the hair from her eyes she wanted to tie it up it was sweaty from dancing.
“It’s okay, Niall helped me,” Y/n spoke softly as he stood up from the floor where he’d sat to take her shoes off. He was so much taller than Y/n, his face finally looking at hers now. She felt heat prickle up her back, and the hairs stand on her neck.
He had such an intense stare.
“I knew I should’ve come,” He said. “I worry when you two are alone.”
Two? She thought. He’d never really shown much protectiveness on his end over her, except when guys were being gross at bars or parties. Then he would give them a stern look and tell them to fuck off. But he did that for anyone, Y/n knew that she wasn’t special. She always felt like Emma was his priority always and he didn’t care what she did as long as Y/n got Emma home safe.
It was almost like he could hear her thoughts. “I don’t like when either of you go without me. The stories Emma has told me about what they say to you Y/n, makes me feel sick honestly.”
She despised the way her stomach flipped. She was about to say that she managed okay without him. But his hand slid onto her shoulder pulling the little spaghetti strap back up over her shoulder.
She felt breathless but tried to snap back into her usual self. Feeling more pink than usual, Harry always seemed to have that effect on her.
“I- do your frat friends know how much of a softie you are deep down? Be careful now, Styles, I might go around telling them how nice you secretly are. Ruin that scary reputation of yours.”
He smirked in amusement, Y/n had this ability to melt away that hard shell, stripping him bare to his true self. He hated and loved it all at once, he felt like she saw right through him. Even when people said mean things about him, Y/n never wavered and sometimes even defended him. The only thing she didn’t approve of was his restlessness towards women. He felt one was never enough, and was quite open about that with his hookups. Maybe he just didn’t have the right one.
He left after that so Y/n could get Emma ready for bed. He was pottering about in the kitchen and making tea, she assumed. That was his late-night ritual usually.
Y/n shook Emma awake enough so she could help Y/n a little to get her into some pyjamas. She even got her make-up wipes out and removed all the makeup on Emma’s face and tucked her into bed.
Y/n sighed tiredly at the effort of it all and felt sobered up almost completely now. Emma had the downstairs bathroom to herself usually, it was very clean in there. Y/n decided to take a shower and wash the sick smell off her skin and the sweat from the clubs and the dirty Uni sharehouse.
She washed her hair, face and body. Emma had a lot of really sweet expensive-smelling products, but Y/n had her own little section for when she stayed over. It was all coconut-scented. She felt herself begin to droop in fatigue when she finished cleaning herself. She got the last of the makeup the water hadn’t washed off and changed into a random shirt from Emma’s drawer and some fresh knickers from Y/n’s things she’d left here.
Y/n was here more than she was at her own house. Emma always said she’d kick Harry out and let Y/n take his place, but Y/n knew the siblings actually got on rather well. When Y/n was dressed for sleep she blow-dried her hair on the lowest setting so she wouldn’t wake Emma up, but Emma could probably sleep through an earthquake she was a really deep sleeper. Then she plugged both their phones in and slid in beside Emma tiredly. She shut her eyes and turned off the fairy lights Emma had kept on, ready to lull off.
Y/n had been friends with Emma since they were little they’d all grown up together in Holmes Chapel and it was the kind of place you were just friends with everyone because it was so small but Y/n had always been closest with the Styles family. They lived down the street from each other and Emma and Y/n were never seen without each other. So Harry was used to having Y/n around a lot too.
Growing up he had to make sure nothing happened to them, he was in charge but it was usually Emma giving him trouble Y/n was always a sweetheart, but she had a quick mouth with one-liners that almost knocked him over. He liked that about her, she was sweet but could challenge him feistily without much thought. He’d met his match when it came to arguments.
Often when the parents went away Y/n would be over and Gemma and Harry would have to make sure neither of them got up to anything wild. But it was usually just a sleepover that consisted of them laughing until dawn. Harry was a much lighter sleeper so he would always tell them to shut up.
Harry woke up to the sound of a pin dropping rooms away, he didn’t know how his sister could snore like a freight train and sleep through herself. He also didn’t know how Y/n could share a bed with her. Sometimes he’d get up in the middle of the night for a wee or some water and would find Y/n on the couch with a pillow over her face trying to block out the noise of Emma’s snoring.
So when he heard Y/n roaming about in the kitchen (he knew it was her because he could still hear Emma snoring) he pretended to need some water, wanting to see her. It was probably around 3 AM but he had been unable to sleep. And they hadn’t talked much when she got home. He had wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he knew better. She had worn a dress that hugged all her features, it was black and simple. Hair done naturally, and makeup that was subtle but just made her that tiny bit more pretty. She always looked pretty though.
He came down the stairs from his room and walked into the kitchen. Y/n was using the fridge as a light to find things. She was making tea by the looks of things. She found some of the chamomile that she used every night, in turn, Harry added it to the weekly grocery list in case she slept the night there, and hadn’t heard him creep downstairs.
She was in a big baggy dusty blue shirt that Harry actually thought was one Emma had stolen from him, and a pair of soft pink cotton knickers that were very small. Socks covered her feet making her practically silent. He stepped closer into the kitchen waiting for her to turn around and notice him.
She was trying to be very quiet in every step, knowing Harry was a very light sleeper, and not wanting to wake him. When she finally did look over her shoulder her body jolted in fright dropping the box of teabags onto the floor and a hand falling to her chest.
“Jesus, H.” She whispered, raspily.
He let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, Lovie.”
She squinted in the dark trying to see him. His hair looked messy like he’d been sleeping and he was just in some boxers as PJs. He ran hot in the night.
“Did I wake you?” She asked a guilty look crossing her face. Her eyes softened as she nibbled on her bottom lip.
He shook his head. “Nah. ‘Aven’t been sleeping well.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did. “Do you want a tea?”
He smiled, dimples showing. “Yes please.”
She brewed two as he whispered the truth about why he didn’t come out with them tonight. He was originally supposed to, and honestly, she had been slightly disappointed about it. Knowing she’d have to handle Emma alone.
But he told her why, in a soft hushed voice. A few guys in his friendship group had said some really mean things to Harry. Not realising he would feel them so deeply, she thought, they must think he was as mean as he seems. He told the story like he wasn’t phased by the mean comments, but Y/n could tell they had gotten to him. She knew better than his cold stone face.
“Alex said ‘I was a homewrecking prick and womanizer’.” He explained when Y/n asked what the boys had said about him. He heard a hint of protectiveness in her voice when she asked with a pinched face, and he felt a tug in his lower tummy. Why did she care?
Y/n looked up from the mugs at him. The dim lighting of the fridge meant she could only see the outline of his body and the shadows of his features. She saw a glimpse of his eyes, and she could see the look in his eyes. He believed them, he believed those comments. They were glassy with discontentment.
Her eyebrows were pinched in empathy, and she was about to speak but he cut her off. “I know I’m a total prick sometimes, but—”
She interrupted him, “—You are a prick sometimes, but people who really know you know what you're like.” She tried to reason with him. Because she wasn’t going to deny sometimes he would be just plain rude to her, and to others as well. But she also knew he did a lot of nice things too. He had a hard exterior and shied off people easily, if you didn’t know him well he would seem rude. But all his close friends and family knew that he was just standoffish with new people. And loved to tease, and was brutally honest, which Y/n had to admit sometimes that hurt more than the teasing comments.
But he did nice things. Wonderful things, that he went out of his way to do. Like helped his sister when she was drunk, drove people home so they wouldn’t have to walk in the dark after parties, picked Y/n up from the library at midnight if she was too scared to walk home, bought chamomile tea in case Y/n spent the night, made enough dinner in case Y/n was hungry, visited the girls when they were studying with snacks and coffee, and he even helped sometimes if they were confused on work. He called his Mum every day without fail and sent his Grandma photos of birds when he saw them.
He baked a new type of cookie recipe every Sunday and gave it to his friends. He adopted stray cats and played Scrabble with his grandparents every few weekends.
Yes, he was a prick, he said mean things and made fun of Y/n when she went on dates with idiots, and he called her names, filthy ones. And sometimes he would barely acknowledge her. But she knew there was a different reason for that, something she didn’t understand. Something between just the two of them. She thought maybe it was just a way for him to protect his sensitive side from people. From her too, hide himself away.
And yes, he did have sex with lots of people, but he did always tell people the truth before getting involved with anyone. He was honest, and open when it came to his boundaries. Y/n thought that was better than lying and acting like you wanted a relationship just so you can fuck someone. She wasn’t saying she approved of Harry’s constant line of girls coming over, maybe that was her jealousy talking, but she wasn’t going to judge him for doing what lots of people did and owning that he did it. He would never kiss and tell, he was respectful and clear with his intentions. What more could you ask of a fuck buddy or one-night stand? If you wanted a good shag no strings attached Harry was your guy, and surely most people knew from the rumours? She just didn’t understand why people put themself in that position if they knew what they were getting into with him.
He wasn’t a devious person who hid behind a mask of fake sincerity to get in your pants. He was blunt, he asked if you wanted to fuck and if you didn’t that was fine. He wasn’t picky with it either he just liked to have a good time.
She felt differently about being with a person. She usually only wanted to be with someone she had an emotional connection with. But she had a smaller level of experience than Harry, so she thought that maybe she was coming from the point of view of a less experienced person. But the point remained, Harry had his flaws, like anyone but he was good at his core. His intentions remained good. No one is perfect, and she knew Harry was far from it but so was everyone she knew!
She knew her flaws too. Flaws made people human. And she appreciated him despite it all.
“And what is that?” He was standing closer now and she felt suddenly very aware of the fact she was only in knickers and a shirt her nipples could be seen through. The way he was staring her down made her aware of her appearance, he looked almost hungry.
“Well as someone who’s known you for as long as I can remember. You’re kind, honest, open, and a good person with a rotten mouth.” She looked away from him as she spoke, flushed by his close presence. She tried not to stumble on her words but was struggling and honestly felt her hands tremble when she felt his breath hit her neck.
“Kind?” He scoffed eyes trained on her face, it was free of makeup. Her lips looked pouty and her eyes droopy in tiredness. She looked perfect. She always did. Even that one week during the bleak middle of winter when she had been sick as a dog; red nose, glassy eyes, snotty and nasally, hair unwashed, skin red, she’d looked beautiful.
“Harry,” She said his name meaning she was serious, she usually called him anything but, “these fucking friends of yours clearly don’t see you like we do.”
“We?”
She leaned back against the drawers sighing, “We. Me, Emma, Niall, Gem, Anne. People who know you, people who love you.”
“You love me?” He teased.
She rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he got from that. He was so annoying.
“You’re alright.” She replied, they both knew she did, handing him the tea. He said a quiet thanks.
He placed it back down, where Y/n was letting hers cool. The face she had made smile only seconds prior melted back to a stoic look, more serious.
He hugged her and Y/n was surprised, but she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled back when he started to get intoxicated on her sweet scent, her skin smelt edible and her hair was soft against his cheek.
“I’m sorry if I’m a prick to you.”
Y/n didn’t mean to but she laughed. A giggle bubbled from her tummy out of her mouth her as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“What?” He said, fighting back the smile that threatened to tug on his lips. It was contagious. He was trying to keep his attention very far from her chest.
She didn’t know what made her say it but, but she told him the truth. “I like it. It's like a game we have. A Harry and Y/n one. I tease you, you tease me. You act like I don’t exist most of the time and I act like I don’t care. You’re mean to me and I let you be.”
Hearing her say it out loud was kind of like being winded. It had always been their game, a game neither mentioned, some sort of unspoken thing they shared.
She could tell he was kind of speechless.
“I don’t know why I let you.” Now that was a lie. She was trying to backtrack.
“I do.” He said stepping closer. His bare legs were pressing into hers. She didn’t say anything, waiting for him to tell her. But he didn’t.
“You gonna tell me?” She said quietly, eyes widely looking up into his, as his hands rested on either side of her on the bench. He leaned in closely. So they were eye to eye.
She was trapped in his arms and had nowhere to look but at him, she squirmed under his smouldering eyes.
“You know why too.”
She didn’t speak. What did any of this mean? She had waited a long time to hear him apologise for being a dick to her, and he just did and she’d told him that she liked him treating her that way. What she meant was, that she liked him, she let him treat her that way because for Harry she would do anything. She didn’t care if that made her pathetic, at least she knew it was, at least she could admit it. I mean, wouldn’t you let him treat you like shit under his shoe if it meant he was at least looking at you with those gorgeous eyes? Could hardly blame the girl.
“Why did you have to meet Emma before you met me?” He almost whined with a soft scoff. As if complaining at fate’s hands for dealing them these cards.
She felt her heart rate speed up.
“What do you mean?” She asked, playing dumb. He was talking so much and she was practically drunk on his sultry voice. It was so deep and she just wanted to hold onto the sound forever and feel it melt into her spine like it was now, and listen when she wanted to sink into a state of lust.
He lifted one of his arms and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “Then she’d be the one who has to follow my rules, and stay away from you. I could be the one in control. Have you all to myself. No sharing.”
Y/n licked her drying lips, as she processed his words. He wanted her all to himself? “Wait, wait, she has a rule to stay away from me?”
Y/n knew Emma didn’t like it when her friends slept with Harry, it was just weird and they would always complain about how mean he was after, or even try and talk about how good he was in bed. She just didn’t like her friends dating or having anything to do with Harry period. But she assumed it was different for Y/n since she knew Harry pretty well and would consider him someone in her close circle. Even if he did ignore her a lot. She assumed she was fine with Harry and Y/n at least being friends. Y/n had bottled all her feelings away for years, she didn’t think that would ever change. Even if Harry liked her back, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise their friendship.
“You’re her friend, not mine.” He said, mocking Emma’s tone, making his voice all squeaky and high-pitched.
Y/n frowned. Emma had always been weird about this. She could understand to some extent, but sometimes Y/n wished she could just have a normal conversation with Harry. “Why can’t we be friends? I’ve known you my whole life, and haven’t slept with you. I think I should be allowed to have a conversation with you. I think I can handle that without pulling my pants down.”
Harry’s lips kicked up in a smirk, “You aren’t wearin’ any pants.”
“Oh shut up.” She replied cheeks bleeding pink.
“She trusts you.” Harry said trying to make Y/n feel better, “She just doesn’t trust me.”
Y/n smiled at that, trying to lighten the mood once again. “Who would? I mean this with respect, but you are a bit of a slut.” Her hand came up to play with the cross on his neck.
He giggled, “I simply enjoy myself openly. You should try, Y/n, it’s fun bein’ bad.”
She felt her cheeks warm further, “I can be bad,” Y/n argued but it was no use.
“Oh thas’ such a lie, Baby.” He laughed at her statement rolling his eyes, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He’d never called her that before and it brought a rose colour to her cheeks that Harry adored on her. She was so easy to make nervous. But he didn’t think anyone was as good at it as he was.
“It’s not,” She pouted.
He cocked his head in challenge. “Name one naughty thing you’ve done then. Bet y’cant.”
She tried to think, that growing up she was relatively good and even now she hardly participated in much other than seeing Emma or Niall and studying. But she felt this urge to impress him, make him proud almost. Or at least shock him.
“I stole a lolly once.”
Harry found a smile slipping onto his face, he’d always seen Y/n as a fairly innocent person. And she was, for the most part. Soft and sweet in real life, like a bunny or puppy. So soft, and you just want to pick her up and put her in your arms and tell her how cute she is. But she had some mischievousness to her, like all people. Something buried underneath her innocent aura, Harry thought of that side of her often pondering what she was like when she wasn’t hiding and she’d been cracked open raw and teased beyond return.
“Oh yeah? Anything else?”
She tried to think of what would shock him but she fell flat. Until—but no she couldn’t say that, it way was too personal.
“I can see you thinking very hard, c’mon tell me.” He whispered. Y/n shut her eyes. His voice sent shivers down her spine.
Fuck it. It was like she had no control over her mouth, the filth just slipped right out of her pouty lips. She wanted to blame the alcohol, but it was probably just his voice that had her feeling intoxicated.
“Sometimes when I touch myself I think of you.”
Harry practically froze, his lips opening to show he was indeed very surprised to hear that. There was a beat and Y/n didn’t know if she regretted it or not. She was about to tell him it was a joke and run for her life. Change her name, and move to Mexico. Her Duolingo lessons weren’t going to be enough to get by, she’d have to start really learning how to speak properly now.
Until.
“What do you think about, Y/n?”
She felt herself getting hot, she’d really fucked herself here. He would never let this go. Call it the tequila but Y/n wasn’t lying. Truthfully the only thing that got her off was Harry, she couldn’t cum unless his green eyes flashed in her vision. Which she did feel bad about like she was a pervert. But believe that she’d tried to think of others, or watching porn. But she could only ever think of him. Otherwise, it wasn’t as good, and she didn’t get the release she was chasing.
“A lot of filthy things, H.”
He bit his lip, “Like what?”
He could sense her getting shy once more as she crossed her arms and looked at her feet, cheeks all pink and pinchable. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Baby, whatever you’ve touched your lil’ clit too I’ve probably stroked m’cock too.”
Y/n was surprised, head snapping up at his words, and though he was normally very honest even he seemed a bit more nervous to admit it. He was just as bad as her. And he had such a filthy mouth, but that was not a surprise to her. She was just surprised he thought of her, she never saw herself as particularly desirable. She always imagined Harry to like those people who look good running in slow motion.
It took a lot of courage as she began to speak. “I usually think about you…fucking my throat, using my mouth however you like. I like the idea of those hands pulling on m’hair.”
Harry felt his pants twitch. His expression and dark eyes egged her on to continue. He didn’t know she was such a little minx. He’d always imagine her to like soft, gentle caresses. Which wouldn’t have bothered him, though he was fairly kinky, but he would’ve done whatever she liked.
She didn’t know if he would like this but she felt brave, “Like the idea of calling you Daddy….Want to be good f’you, Daddy.”
That’s what made Harry unable to keep his hands by his sides. He grabbed her face forcing her to look into his eyes.
“Wanna be good?”
She nodded coyly, eyes wide. His hands were warm and she practically melted into them.
“Sleep upstairs tonight then.” He didn’t ask her, he simply instructed her. And who was she to say no?
She nodded once again and he patted her lower back as if to say off you go then. She listened and walked slowly in front of him. She felt his presence close by, the sweet citrus and woodsy scent that followed him was right by her nose and she could hear his slow calm breaths.
Her beating heart was thumping against her chest and she wondered how it didn’t fill the quiet house (besides Emma’s window-rattling snores).
He noticed her shaky and anxious energy and his hand slipped onto her waist. “I jus’ wanna hear about y’dreams somewhere comfier, Petal, if thas’ all yeh’ want that’s all we’ll do. Plus I’m saving y’from m’lumpy couch.”
She couldn’t complain about that.
As they walked inside she was welcomed to the scent of Harry, she’d only been in Harry’s room a few times, but never properly. He ushered her to the bed and she sat down tucking her knees to her chest and resting her chin. Examining the walls of famous singers and art that covered it. In the corner by his desk where the only source of light in his room was a glowing lamp, other than some fairy lights above his bed, was a little picture wall.
In the mess of polaroids and film, she saw one of Y/n, Emma and Harry when the two girls had graduated school. He was between them arms around their shoulders and looking to his left at Y/n who was laughing happily with Emma at Gemma who made some joke about something. Y/n knew the picture instantly because it was one of her favourites of him.
“What else, Baby?” He said softly sitting in front of her, interrupting her thoughts of that day when he’d driven home to visit them for it, and looked over to see him leaning against the headboard, arms interlocked behind his head.
“You go.” She said, which made Harry laugh.
“I’m pretty filthy Honey, you know me. I don’t know if it’ll be something you like.”
She looked at him stubbornly. “Try me.”
He shut his eyes and only now did she see he was nervous too, “I often find myself thinking about you on your tummy, underneath me, letting me stuff you full while my hands pin yours to your back so that you’re at my mercy.”
She liked that, her tummy twisted in yerning. “I’d like you to be in charge. Help me forget.”
He was looking at her like she was the sweetest most edible thing. “Can I kiss you?”
She nodded and he placed his hands in her hair, kissing her softly at first just a whisper of a touch of two mouths moulding into one. She leaned in further into the warmth of him and hugged her arms around his broad shoulders as the kiss began to deepen, he tasted like a hint of beer and minty toothpaste. Her chest burned with what only could be described as Harry.
He moaned into her mouth softly, sighing at the taste of her sweet tea-soaked lips. The warmth of her curves pressing into him was comforting, and though he had a desire to completely ruin her until she was crying his name, he liked taking it slow and enjoying this first kiss with her. Exploring her mouth, teasing his tongue against hers, and soft hands roaming up and down her back.
He rubbed her back under the soft shirt, no bra strap blocking his gentle scratches. She arched into his touch.
After all, he’d been dreaming of it for years and he wanted to take his time, even though he was crazy for her and felt this deep animalistic desire, he was gentle with her. Like she could break if he was too rough.
The kiss began to pick up as she slid into his lap, and he encouraged her to rub against his bare thigh. She ground against his tiger tattoo and he could feel the wetness between her thighs leaking onto him already. She moved slowly and uncertainly, his hands moved from her shoulders down to her hips forcefully moving her against him creating friction that made her create a soft whiney noise in the back of her throat. He swallowed the sounds eagerly.
He pulled his lips away breathlessly and dragged his mouth down the column of her throat, kissing sucking and biting wherever he could. Her skin was soft and she smelt like coconuts and something that was just her. He would’ve eaten her whole if he could. She let out soft breaths and sighs, her hips had stopped moving — too distracted by his magical lips.
He stopped to look at her. Really looking.
Her lips were more red, almost like she’d been nibbling on them, and they were all swollen from his kissing. Her cheeks were dusted in a warm pink. Eyes wild and doe-eyed looking up at him. She was picturesque. He wanted to remember her like this forever and be able to come back to this moment at any time. He soaked it in, hoping to remember.
“You seriously are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” He said softly running his big hands through her messy hair. His rings were cool on her skin.
“Harry, don’t.” She said bringing her hands to cover her blushing face.
He sighed. “I’m sorry for not telling you every second of every day.”
“Don’t lie, H. I’ve seen the girls you fancy.”
“Only ever fancied you.” He said his hands grabbing hers and moving them away she looked at him, shocked. “Only ever look for your face in a crowd, Baby.”
She didn’t know what to say so she kissed him and he moaned softly when she rubbed herself against him. He was getting harder and harder with each movement until eventually she stopped and moved away.
“Can I suck you off?” She asked, and the filth was shocking to hear from her soft voice and lips.
He nodded hand stroking her cheek. “Yeah, ‘course.”
She moved down to her tummy between his thighs and looked up at him. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.” She whispered.
He laughed softly, there she was, there was his Y/n. “Thas’ okay, Love, I’ll teach you.”
She slid her hand up his thigh and her fingers found their way into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down when he gave her a nod of approval. His stiff dick sprung out against his tummy, and he was completely naked for her. The head of his cock was oozing precum and it dripped down to his balls. Even his dick was pretty. Which she should’ve expected.
It had a blush-coloured tip similar to the shade of his lips, he was veiny and long. So long that he reached his belly button. He was girthy too and as she moved her hand to wrap around it, he hissed at the contact, and she almost dropped her jaw at the fact her fingers weren’t touching. He smirked down at her.
Her reaction was boosting his ego in just the right way.
“You alright down there, Petal?”
She nodded, her lips grazing against his now throbbing cock. He ached for her. The sight of the swell of her ass and plush thighs was making him very needy.
And to the surprise of them both she pursed her lips and spat down onto his dick. She was basically drooling all over him, it leaked down over the length of him coating his prick and he practically whimpered at the sight — it was one of his dreams. She then took him into her mouth and began to suck and lick, slowly taking him deeper and deeper.
His hands had slipped into her hair holding it back from her face and he was letting out loud gravelly moans and sighs of pleasure. He was trying to stop his hips from rolling up into her throat. Her mouth was so deliciously warm and tight against him, he felt like a man deprived of water near a watering hole. Her tongue glided around swirling and sucking and teasing the tip of him. When she began to fondle his balls as well, gently massaging them, he let out a particularly loud whiney noise. She popped out off of him.
“Shh, don’t wanna wake Emma up.” She said before dripping another trickle of spit onto him and continuing her fast and merciless pace on him.
“Can’t help it, when you take me like that. S’fucking good.” He said, as his hips jutted into her throat roughly, without realising. “Shit, fuck, sorry,” He said hearing her throat gag on him.
She just went deeper onto him, until her nose was tickled by the snail trail on his tummy. Pulling back when all her breath had gone. She hardly needed to be taught.
She took deep breaths of air and stroked him slowly in her hand, he was panting at her touch.
“You can use my throat however y’like, Daddy.” She said, voice all raw from his cock having stuffed it just seconds ago, before going back down onto him.
“Just tap m’leg if you need me to stop,” He said and she nodded making a noise around him. His hands pulled her hair up away from her eyes. “sucha’ good fuckin’ girl.” He said pushing her head down once more. Again and again, until he was close to cumming. Which had happened fast, and he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed.
His balls ached for release and her teasing little hands that twisted and stroked him, along with her tongue, had him so loud he’d taken to biting his lip in an attempt to keep his sounds from slipping out. He pulled her off him stroking her cheek gently, swiping some tears away. Her eyes had begun to leak with tears from how deep she was taking him, and it made him throb.
“Gonna’ cum soon, Baby.”
She nodded. “Let me have it please, want your cum. Want it all.”
He stuffed her mouth once more at her words, rutting into her throat until she was gagging and coughing around him. His eyes squeezed shut, “Oh fuck, cummin’,” he hissed. Opening his eyes to watch the sight below him.
Her eyes looked up at him, and that’s what sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he was cumming, hard, so hard his eyes saw white spots and he shuddered into her. She pulled back coughing, she’d swallowed as much as she could but some of it made its way out and dribbled down her chin. She swiped the rest with her thumb and licked it up.
She was just perfect.
He pulled her up by her chin and kissed her.
“That was the best blowjob I’ve ever had.” He kissed her again before asking her, “Let Daddy take care of ya’ now, is that what y’want sweet girl?”
She nodded. “Yes please.”
“Good girl. So polite.” He said kissing her forehead. His hand slipped into her underwear circling her clit, which was slick with arousal. “So wet for me.”
She sighed leaning closer to his shoulder, pressing her forehead into him to cover her whines. He started to circle her clit faster, and her hips squirmed against his hand he then started teasing her weeping hole. She moaned deliciously into his neck. Felt so good.
“Come rest against me, my love.” She shifted her body at his command and turned to face away from him. Pushing her back into his chest, her bum tucked right against his stiffy. His legs spread open for her to sit in front of him and he grabbed the waistband of her undies pushing her undies down and she threw them to the side with her ankle. She leaned into his shoulder head tipped back and he watched from over her shoulder. Just like the rest of her, her pussy was beautiful. It was glistening in slick and begging for his attention. Beautiful and spread for him like a flower, her swollen bud was puffy and eager to be sucked, licked, and teased.
His hand slipped past her tummy and began to rub her softly coating his finger in her slick, preparing her for him to slip his fingers in. She sighed breathlessly.
“Please, Daddy.” She whispered which made his cock twitch from behind her, she felt against her back.
He slowly slipped one in and her mouth opened but no sound came out until he was all the way inside, knuckle deep, which made her let out a broken cry. “Oh fuck, Harry.”
He began to thrust and curl his finger, moving faster and faster. Her tight pussy clamped down onto him, pulsing every few seconds, as she cried out softly into the room. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth and her body squirmed in pleasure as his other hand kept her legs spread for him. His thumb drew lazy circles on her puffy clit which had her pussy leaking even more onto his finger.
“Like when Daddy takes you like this?”
She nodded. “Mm.”
“Say it, Baby, tell me you like it.”
“I lov-love it when you take me like this.” Her voice was so soft and airy.
He began kissing her neck and shoulder, sucking a mark near her ear. She was too distracted to care about it leaving a mark tomorrow. “My pretty Baby, likes when I tease her little pussy?”
She made a whiney noise and her legs twitched almost shutting.
“So sensitive f’me.”
He slipped another finger inside her and she dripped out even more onto him, crying out softly into the hand she’d brought to her mouth, her slick trickled down her thighs too now and he didn’t slow his movements only went harder and faster into her. Loving the way she melted into his touch.
“Gunna’ cum for Daddy?”
She nodded biting her lip. “‘Feels so good. I’m goin’ ta’ cum soon, Daddy.”
He kept going kissing her skin and massaging her thighs and breasts and eventually her legs shook hard, and shut on his hand and she cried out and pulsed rapidly around his fingers, and he could only imagine how good he’d feel with her cumming on his cock like that. She looked so beautiful he felt like he might cum then and there on her back without having even touched himself. As the peak of her orgasm washed over her he slid his fingers out of her and brought them to her lips, giving her just the middle finger.
“Suck,” He told her.
She obeyed sucking dazedly still trying to calm down from her orgasm, when he pulled it out he brought the other one to his lips.
“Mm.” He said softly, she tasted tangy and sweet.
She took some deep breaths as he held her close. “Thank you.” She whispered softly, shutting her eyes and catching her breath, she can’t remember the last time she came like that. So hard that she felt it in her entire body, so hard she saw stars and couldn’t contain her noises.
“Sucha’ good girl, you’re welcome my sweet girl.” She turned her head to the side and kissed him, very softly and slowly. Nothing feverish and rushed like their previous actions and his hands massaged her bare hips, kneading her plush flesh contently. God, she was just so soft, so warm, so wet, and so perfect. It was like he’d dreamt but better, if that was even possible. He was drunk on her touch.
When she pulled away she looked up at him. “I want your cock, please, I need it.” Her little pleads made his balls ache, and he wouldn’t have to be asked twice by her.
“Okay, Baby.” He said running a hand through his hair. She lifted her shirt over her head and threw it aside, completely bare, so perfect to him. Her nipples harden at the cool air, and her skin pimpled. Her body was perfect, every scar, mole, mark, and spot he’d have happily kissed and run his over for hours if she’d allow it.
He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it down in the middle of the bed right in front of her. “Why don’t you lie on your tummy f’me, Petal? Rest on the pillow.”
She nodded and put her hips in line with the pillow, her bum sticking in the air ready for him. His hands rubbed her softly, her skin was so smooth under his hands and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plush flesh. She was so fucking perfect, and the way their bodies knew exactly what to do to the other was just magic like they were made for one another. Just like a pair of contrasting colours splashed on a canvas together, it just worked.
“One sec,” He said leaning over to his bedside table pulling out a condom and ripping it open. He slid it over his leaking prick that was already standing tall at the sound of Y/n’s soft moans and perfect, wet, pussy that was waiting to be stuffed full of him.
Before he slid himself inside her she turned to look over her shoulder. “I ‘aven’t in a while. Be gentle please, Harry.”
He kissed her forehead, “‘Course, Gorgeous.”
He held her hand in his reassuringly as he slowly dipped the tip inside of her, feeling her begin to stretch for him. She was tight, from nerves and the fact he was just so fucking large. She wasn’t nervous because of anything being wrong, she just wanted Harry to like her. She didn’t know how, but he had this incredible talent of making her nervous always. He was just so much more experienced, older, and had much more sex than her. She just worried she wouldn’t be up to his standards.
But when he began to coo her gently and rubbed her back and bum with his hands to relax her, she began to feel less nervous. Harry, though a prick with a filthy mouth and a bit of an attitude problem, would never want anything bad to happen to her and liked her for who she was, as she was. They’d been around each other for years after all, and with that sort of time, you just understand each other. He was a mean prick who had sex with just about anyone and she was a naive good girl who strayed from any attention. But they could still appreciate their differences. She was pleasantly surprised at how well their bodies understood each other too. His cock was the perfect fit for her, and she melted into the pain.
Her thoughts of nervousness were lost when he had stuffed her completely full of him, she could feel the tip of him teasing that spot inside her that she could only ever reach with toys, she let out a whimper. “Fuck, Harry.”
It was millions of times better than anything she’d ever experienced.
He hissed throwing his head back, feeling her stretch around him. “So tight, Love.”
He began to move, keeping true to his word, slow and gentle thrusts. Remaining as shallow with his movements as someone could with a cock that big.
Y/n’s eyes watered in a mix of pain and pleasure. Her hand flew back again to grab his wrist. “S’big, Daddy.”
He moaned at the name, it was just so fucking cute coming from her. He wanted to take care of her when she acted all needy like that, “Yeah? Feels big inside your little pussy, doesn’t it?”
God, he was filthy, he made her stomach curl with desire. She never thought she’d like dirty talk all that much, before this she’d felt it was corny coming from boys but coming from his lips it was the closest thing to heaven she’d ever heard.
She nodded into the bed and took her hand back to grip the sheets but he grabbed her hands and held them behind her back. He used them as leverage to push her back onto him, pinning her hands back, just like he said.
“Feeling alright, Baby?” He asked.
And she nodded once more.
“Tell me.” He told her.
“Feels fuckin’ amazing.” She said struggling to find the words, her orgasm had made her foggy and his cock bottoming out made it difficult to think of anything else.
“Feel so good on m’cock, fucking made to take it, Y/n.”
That made her shiver, the pain had started to subside turning into just pleasure now. “Can go faster, H.” She said just above a whisper.
As he began to go faster and deeper like he’d been desperate to, she got louder and louder, and her pussy made these filthy noises against his cock. He was ruining her completely and she was enjoying every moment. Her eyes turned glossy in pleasure.
He let go of her hands to grab her hips and push her back harder, she began to move her hips to meet his, and he cried out.
“Fuck,” He swore, tossing his head back stray curlings falling over his eyes when he looked back down at her.
He squeezed the flesh of her ass and moved his hand forward onto her hair gently tugging it backward, as he began to pound into her even harder.
“Such a pretty little thing, letting me ruin you, what a good girl.” He said his voice all rough and coarse.
She keened clawing at the bed, “Feels so fucking good, Daddy, I love it thank you.”
Even in bed, she was so polite and obedient, that he wondered what she would be like after being edged for a while. Would her obedience turn to brattiness? He would have to try another time. Made him speed up even more at the thought.
“Wanna see tha’ pretty face while y’taking m’cock,” He said deciding to turn her onto her back he got rid of the pillow, flipping her to face him. Her cheeks were flushed rosy pink, her hair a mess from his pulling, and her eyes were practically black her pupils had gotten so big. She was perfect, his perfect good girl, and so beautiful he could’ve cum just looking at her.
He leaned down kissing her lips, as he continued his thrusts. He dragged his lips down along her jaw and down until he had one of her breasts in his mouth. Her nipples were sensitive to his tongue and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, scratching along the peaks of his back. She felt so close, she couldn’t control any part of herself.
He moved his attention across to the other nipple, massaging the one that had just been marked with his mouth. She was moaning breathily, back arching up into him. She was so sensitive to his touch, so much so that every brush of skin that he dared to touch felt like it was on fire.
“I’m getting close, Daddy.” She said and he began going even deeper, he could tell by the way her pussy was clamping down onto his prick harder and harder and more often that she was on the brink. It made his stomach turn.
“Atta girl, cum on Daddy’s cock.” Her legs were shaking and she screwed her eyes shut at his words.
“Don’t stop, please.” She said, clawing his back.
He didn’t dare change anything he was doing, he stayed hitting that spot deep inside her that made her scream out and claw him extra tightly. She pulled him closer so his mouth was hovering over hers, her legs wrapped around his back and she clawed his arms desperate for her release. She felt her stomach unravelling in the familiar feeling of her orgasm.
“Gonna- fuck, gonna cum!”
He felt her pulse rapidly on his cock and whined into her lips at the feeling. She made guttural moaning noise, all loud and high, as her legs squirmed and she shook around him. He helped her through her orgasm, stroking her cheek with his hands pecking her lips until she came down from it.
It was even more intense than her first and his cock greedily continued pounding her hardly giving her a chance to rest. He moved her leg up a bit higher against his hip and began to hit that spot even harder than before.
She whined hands reaching up to his hair, tugging it, and he moaned. He loved it when she did that
“Can you handle another, sweet girl?” He asked he had no shame in wanting to watch her cum once more. It was too beautiful of a sight you couldn’t blame him, he was greedy for more.
And she nodded tiredly. “Think so. Might have to make me take it though, Daddy.”
Her voice drove him up the wall. “Fuck, so fucking perfect f’me. Love this pussy.” He moved his hand down to rub her clit, he wanted to speed up this next orgasm to be in time with his, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Watching his cock disappear in her was a sight he hoped to hold onto in his mind. It made his eyes roll back in his head.
He kept throwing his head back and grunting as he continued the final stretch before his orgasm.
“Can you choke me, please? Wanna cum with your hand around m’throat, please.” She asked and it took him by surprise. Little innocent Y/n liked being choked too? God, this really was his idea of heaven.
“Please, what?” He asked sternly.
“Please, Daddy.”
He smirked, and Y/n knew she was done for. He slipped his free hand around her throat, rings cold to her neck as squeezed the sides, he watched her become dizzy with pleasure and she start to show signs of cumming again, which was good because he didn’t know if he’d last much longer.
“Cum for me please, Princess, milk me with that perfect pussy.” He said his voice all rough and slurring, his pussy had him losing his mind. He was so far gone.
With a few more circles on her clit, and deep thrusts she was squirting all over his cock with an intense grip on his prick. He felt her drip down him around his cock making creating more friction for him to continue his merciless pace.
“Cumming,” She cried out loudly lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it, and Harry had honestly forgotten they were supposed to be quiet. The only thing on his mind was filling her with his cum. She was still feeling the wave of her orgasm wash over her and was loose-lipped and limp as Harry started to feel the knot in his tummy unravel in a familiar feeling of complete pleasure.
Her pulsing pussy was squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t wait any longer. “Getting close, Baby.”
“Cum for me Daddy, please want your cum so bad,” She pleaded. He released his grip from her throat and let his forehead press into her shoulder as she pulled him closer. Hands scratching his hair and hugging him close to her body. Craving him.
“Fuck, cummin’ Y/n, cummin’.” He said as his cock twitched hard while he bottom out of her, when his loud moans began to spill from his lips she brought their mouths together and he moaned against her swollen lips.
Even after cumming he stayed inside her for a moment, absolutely spent, head resting on her shoulder. She gently rubbed his back with her hands and didn’t mind him staying close. Eventually, he lifted off of her and kissed her forehead before pulling out, she winced at the feeling of him pulling out of her ruined pussy.
“One sec, Love.”
She nodded. And shifted her hips knowing tomorrow morning she’d struggle to sit. Her hips would probably be bruised and her body would ache, but she did not care one bit. She wouldn’t change what had just happened. She had the best orgasms of her entire life, and Harry seemed pretty content too. And it had been with Harry, of all people it had been with the one person she wasn't supposed to get with.
He tied off the condom and threw it in a little bin by his desk. He walked inside the en suite in his room (he’d won the coin toss), and wet a flannel. He came back with a warm cloth to wipe her down. She squirmed at his touch, feeling very sore and sensitive. “Sorry, Love, I know, but can’t have ya’ all sticky before bed can I?”
She just nodded once again. He put the flannel back in the sink and switched the light off coming back out to find Y/n limp and star-fished in the middle of his bed on the mess of his sheets. She looked completely spent, her three orgasms had tired her out so much.
“Y’ want something to wear?” He asked.
She nodded. “Thanks, Styles.”
He smiled at her usual name for him. “What happened to Daddy?”
“Oh, shut up.” She said blushing, he was probably going to keep bringing that up whenever he could, just to tease her.
He grabbed a big baggy black shirt and some plaid boxers for from his drawer.
“Y’so cute when you blush, you know?”
She frowned hands moving to her face. “Stoppp!” She whispered loudly.
He handed her the clothes and helped her slide into them, and she half expected to be sent back to the couch downstairs and told thanks for the shag, but he pulled the duvet down the bed and patted the middle of the bed for her to sleep there. She moved to lay in the spot and Harry placed the duvet over her.
Sliding back on his boxers from before, and running a hand through his messy sweaty hair he looked over at her. “I’ll get us some water, be right back.”
She nodded. “Alright.”
When he came back with two glasses of water he placed them on the bedside table and sighed before rolling in beside her. She turned to face him. “Hi,” she said with a giggle.
“Hi.” He replied with a small laugh too.
“Your bed's very comfy, Styles.”
“Better than m’couch.” He replied sliding a hand onto her waist to rub her side, soothing her into a restful sleep.
“Much better, should’ve shagged you sooner if it meant bed privileges.”
He scoffed playfully, “Only using me for my cock and the comfy bed, aye?”
She laughed back. “Yeah, obviously, why else?”
He pulled her even closer and turned the tone more serious. “Thank you for before,”
She frowned confusedly. “The blowjob?”
He laughed softly. “No, in the kitchen.”
She laughed at herself. “Oh right,” She said lifting her hand to stroke his cheek which he leaned into. “Well, I like your rotten mouth and shocking brutal honesty and all the rest of you. Don’t worry about those guys.”
He leaned closer, a teasing expression lighting up his face. “You like me?”
She just rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully.
“I like you too.”
This made her blush. “Go to sleep.”
“C’mere then,”
She got even closer and fell asleep to the beat of his heart and gentle caress on her back.
The following morning, she woke up early, which was very unlike her, and in a total panic, that Emma might have noticed she was missing from the couch. Harry groaned grabbing her, “Don’t go.”
“Have to, Em’s gonna notice, she’d kill us both.” She said, voice all raspy and eyes bleary.
He whined not letting go. “Stupid Emma.”
“Shh. I’ll see you later.” She was about to leave back downstairs, but he grabbed her and she watched him waiting for what else wanted from her.
“Kiss?”
She leaned down and pecked his lips which he smiled at shutting his eyes to go back to sleep, and she left sneaking back downstairs. Sluggishly wrapping the blanket around her and shutting her eyes, even though she was much too giddy to sleep.
When Emma woke up with a throbbing head she smiled at Y/n and she started making coffee quietly since her head couldn’t handle anything loud. This made Y/n stir, sitting up and turning the telly on sleepily. A re-run of Friends was on and she wrapped herself up in the blanket and sat back watching.
Emma wordlessly passed her a coffee and sat beside her, stealing some of the blanket. They spent the rest of the episode in silence just huddling together for warmth and sipping away tiredly, until Harry’s footsteps could be heard creaking down the stairs.
“Want some pancakes, children?”
The pair nodded.
Y/n looked over at him smiling to herself, he’d changed into a loose navy crewneck and some pyjama pants. He looked gorgeous, and she was reminded of last night. She'd liked him for years, and now she'd done filthy things with him, would she ever recover?
When the pancakes were ready they all sat together at the table. Harry was a wonderful cook, he made a variety of pancakes.
Blueberry, chocolate chip, plain, some with strawberries and cream. He'd brought out lemon and sugar too because that's what Y/n liked on her pancakes, and lots of fruit for Emma. He'd brought out two big jugs of juice for them and a coffee pot.
“Sleep well, Em?” Asked Harry, with a mouthful of blueberry pancake chewing lazily. How did he even look sexy eating?
She nodded. “Yeah,”
“Me too.” He replied before turning to Y/n, who was mid-sip on some juice, it was a mix of berries and tasted sweet. “Y/n?”
She coughed, choking on her juice, and Harry smirked knowingly. Emma patted her back, “You alright, mate?”
“Yeah, just wrong hole. I slept fine.” Y/n said.
“Hate when that happens.” Harry teased, and she wanted to kick his shin but Emma definitely would’ve noticed.
They all finished their pancakes and after the big breakfast, Emma had an aspirin and told them both she was going back to bed for a nap.
“I might head off then,” Y/n said, she wanted to go home and nap herself. Harry had kept her awake for a good portion of the night after all, and her body was very sore. “I’ll get an Uber.”
“Alright, Babe,” She said hugging her. Y/n kissed her cheek and hugged her back.
“Bye, Babe,” Y/n said with a soft smile.
“Thanks for taking care of me. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Y/n nodded. “Of course, we have to do our monthly movie marathon rain, hail, or shine!”
Emma smiled. “Perfect, get home safe.”
They parted, and Emma went back to her room to sleep. Y/n’s Uber arrived moments later and Harry watched Y/n leave waving with a big devilish grin.
She waved back hopping in the Uber tiredly, as the car pulled away and Harry shut the door, her phone buzzed with a text.
Harry Styles🍒
Can I come over tonight?
Y/n felt a big grin overtake her face.
what on earth for mr. styles?
Harry Styles🍒
Didn’t get to give a you proper goodbye, did I?
Y/n blushed with a small laugh as she typed back.
see u at eight
Harry Styles🍒
See you then Baby X
Y/n bit her lip. What had she gotten herself into?
oh and bring snacks
and that new film u were raving about to niall
Harry Styles🍒
Ok, done. See you tonight. XX
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up similar to last in the kitchen. This was not the Harry she knew, but she didn’t have it in her to complain. She saw flashes of last night of them together and squirmed in her seat.
‘💗💗’ She replied.
When she put her phone down in her lap and stared out at the window she sighed to herself, knowing she was completely done for. Harry had ruined her, she'd never be able to stop thinking about him and last night. However, she had very few complaints about it. Her phone buzzed yet again. She checked it.
Harry Styles🍒 hearted your message.
She smiled even more and shut her eyes, head resting against the leather seat, as she wondered if he was smiling this big too.
#writing#harry#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry one shot#harry blurb#harry imagine#harry au#harry fanfiction#harry prompt#harry styles prompt#one direction#1d#harry styles album#meet me in the hallway#sign of the times#carolina#two ghosts#sweet creature#only angel#kiwi#ever since new york#woman#from the dining table#dunkirk#harrys house
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i absolutely cannot believe people are trying to start discourse about whether nex benedict was actually nonbinary / whether it was okay for him to describe himself as nonbinary to some people if he didn’t actually identify that way as if he isn’t literally DEAD because he was KILLED. this is a MURDERED CHILD and these monsters are so busy getting mad at the possibility that he might have been a trans boy who described himself as nonbinary to his family because that was easier for them to take that they’re turning a CHILD who was MURDERED into fucking discourse. even when we die at the hands of cis people’s violence, our own community finds a way to make us the villains of the story.
and all of this bullshit on top of the ways that cis people are already trying to say our grief over his death is unjustified. all of this on top of people claiming he wasn’t murdered and speculating on other causes of death (i literally saw someone say he “clearly went home and took the coward’s way out” and i have never been more disgusted) or claiming that he started the fight as if any action on his part could’ve been enough to justify his death. i am haunted by the sound of his father screaming that his child was not filth because that is what people have been saying about this poor kid, that’s how cruelly his memory is being treated, and even the trans community can’t get it’s shit together enough to look past the stupid discourse and see the tragedy in front of us. did you all forget that it was supposed to be up to us to grieve him in the way he deserves when the rest of the world fails to care if people like him live or die? did you all forget that this child was our sibling, the future of our community, a life that we should have had the chance to know and treasure while he was still here but that we now have a responsibility to hold close to our hearts in his absence? nex’s life was precious and it was ended far too soon and if you truly believe that anything is more important than mourning his life and fighting for a world where no more trans people have to meet such an awful fate, you’re a traitor to this community and you do not deserve the place you occupy within it.
i’m so tired. i can’t even imagine how tired his family must be, to see the public treat the child they’re grieving so horribly, to see the world fail their baby again. leave him alone. he was already robbed of peace in life; the least you can do is let him finally have it in death.
#as a trans man whose family still uses they/them and neutral terms for me and would describe me as nonbinary#because that was how i initially came out to them and me being a man is a much bigger hurdle than i have the energy to help them get over#it’s SO deeply disturbing to know that if my life ended in violence#my own community would be more concerned with how my family referred to me in death than with the fact that i was killed#how fucking dare you turn this poor child’s existence into discourse fodder when they aren’t even here to defend themselves#when you only even know who he is in the first place because he was killed#tw transphobic violence#nex benedict#tbh it feels wrong to even add my usual tags to this but i need people to see it so. here we go#transandrophobia#transandromisia#transmisandry#virilmisia#virilphobia#anti transmasculinity#transmascphobia#exorsexism#trans men#transmascs
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steve's favourite thing to do is interchange the names in songs with people's he knows. usually just as a bit of fun, like singing "gimme, gimme, gimme ro-bin after midnight!" to make her laugh in the car when she's had a bad morning. or, "i wish that i was dustin's girl!" in a horrific impression of suzie that makes the kid body slam him in retaliation.
so one day, when him and eddie are hanging out in his kitchen, amicably flitting around each other as they make food, he can't help himself. the drums start up from the radio in the corner and a smile spreads across his face, because he thought of this one weeks ago and has been dying to use it.
he whirls around and points at eddie, who's looked up at the sudden movement, with the business end of a wooden spoon. "oh, eddie you're so fine! you're so fine, you blow my mind! hey, eddie!" he takes a step forward, relishing in how munson's jaw drops to the floor. "hey, eddie!"
he does a sort of half shuffle, half dance around to eddie's other side, where he continues, jumping up and down and shaking his head back and forth with the beat, "oh, eddie you're so fine, you're so fine, you blow my mind!" he gets up in eddie's space, to where they're practically nose to nose, "hey eddie!"
"oh my god, what is happening?" eddie asks, trying his hardest to suppress a grin. steve continues to dance and sing like an idiot, abandoning the spoon on the counter to grab both eddie's hands and pull his arms back and forth in an attempt to get him dancing too.
by the start of the first verse eddie is half-heartedly bouncing along, watching steve with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he thinks he's fucking beautiful like this- big blinding smile, full of energy- and takes a second to ponder the turns his life has taken to bring him here, in this moment. where steve harrington is singing a cheesy, upbeat love song at him, having replaced the name in it for his.
steve cups eddie's hands together and uses them as a makeshift microphone, belting out the lyrics to the chorus as eddie giggles along in the background. "-oh, eddie! what a pity, you don't understand," puts his best pouty face and places eddie's hand on his chest, over his heart. eddie's eyes widen. "you take me by the heart when you take me by the hand! oh, eddie, you're so pretty," really fucking emphasises the word pretty. because, damn. "why can't you understand? it's guys like you, eddie!" grabs him by the shoulders and rocks them both back and forth with each word. eddie's hand drops from his chest to circle around his waist, seemingly out of instinct, and fuck, he liked that.
eddie was staring at him now, sparkly eyed and hopeful. steve clasped his hands together at the base of eddie's neck, as he sung, a little less overzealous now, "oh, what you do, eddie, do eddie," as the gap between them got less and less. steve had to work to bite down the grin on his face.
"don't break my heart, eddie." he said, barely loud enough for them to hear over the music. eddie grinned, pressing their lips together as the chorus ended.
it was objectively bad, with the way they both smiled and giggled through the whole fucking thing, but god, who cares. to them, in that exact moment, it was the best damn kiss either of them had ever had.
until, that is, when eddie pulls back (very fucking regretfully) and realises something.
"we did not just have our first kiss to 'hey, mickey!' by toni basil." he whispers, in genuine horror. steve throws his head back with such bright laughter, still pressed against him, that it almost makes it worth it.
keyword almost, because then the menace leans back in, all coy, and replies, "i'm never, ever letting you forget it."
#steve plays the song at their wedding AND sings the eddie rendition into his ear#eddie cries like a baby#stranger things#prompt#steve harrington#imagine#steddie#stranger things prompt#eddie munson#steddie prompt#steve and eddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#steddie hc#steddie fluff
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