#Apps are still open! :D

[zu-is-here]

Um...can you draw more killermare comic please? i love them very much (´,,•ω•,,)♡

I was never there

[thatoneaceinthecorner]

Is anyone else who recently canceled their dnd beyond sub in protest of the new OGL suddenly getting this message when they try to open a character sheet in the app?

[chenziee]

Get hype people, it’s time for some LawLu 👀

So excited and honoured to have been invited to the @strawhearttaleszine! Can't wait to shower the boys with love along with everyone :D

[underherofans]

I LOVE UNDERHERO CHARLIE! I LOVE UNDERHEROOOOOOOOO

EVERYONE GO YAAAAAY UNDERHERO WOO YEAH UNDERHERO I LOVE UNDERHERO YAAAAYYY !!!

[yeonzzzn]

can’t help but to think about jake being your family’s car washer, shirtless in the garage, sweat all over his face and dripping down his abs, panting due to extreme fatigue. You can’t help but stare at him as he noticed how you’re drooling over his naked body and how you practically eye fuck him. And of course, who is he to ignore your stares as he walk towards you and made you touch his exposed chests and abs, which leads to the both of you fucking on every car you have in the garage. 🥵

As one of the best writer here in this app, I request you to continue this 🤭 I love your fics btw and thank you for interacting with me 😫

HOLY FUCKING SHHIIIITTTTTTTTT YOUR BRAIN IS CHEF KISS ON G O D. I am so in love with this scenario like just imagining shirtless, sweaty, wet, and soapy jake fucking you on the clean car he just finished washing, leaving soapy stains and hand prints all over the hood…and THANK YOU for requesting this🤭 I am happy you put me into the category as one of the best writers…it gave me a hella ego boost fr fr!! this one is for you bae 😘🩷

jake x afab!reader word count: 2.2k

Ever since your family hired Jake as their personal car washer, you’ve struggled to keep your eyes to yourself.

You thought the idea of your family even hiring someone for such a job was, in fact, stupid. Completely ludicrous. Why hire someone to wash your cars when there are LITERAL car washes to drive your car through? Or ya know, the hands of the family members doing it

You guessed since your family had money to blow and not enough time on their hands, hiring Jake was something they wanted. You couldn’t argue with your parents, not when they are paying for your college and letting you live at home still rent-free…who were you to complain?

Obviously, the first few times Jake came to wash the cars, you’d scrunch your nose at him, purposely getting in your car and driving away, making his job harder on him. You didn’t care at first, you thought this idea was stupid and a waste of money when you could just wash your car yourself.

But it wasn’t until you took a nap after class completely forgot Jake was scheduled to wash the cars. Hearing the sound of water from the hose hitting the hoods of one of the cars that you jolted from your bed and quickly rushed to the window peeking behind the blinds, seeing Jake bent over your father's car, clothes completely soaked and soapy with the massive sponge in hand as he cleaned the hood.

You are filled with anger after seeing your car was moved and parked in the grass, seeing it was already cleaned.

Jake wasn’t stupid, he knew you hated him even if it was for reasons unknown, not that he even cared, he was getting paid bank to wash four cars once every week. So when he arrived for his scheduled time and saw your car parked in the garage…oh the sweet shenanigans that filled his brain.

He’d knock on the front door like he does every time, smiling at your mother’s face when she opened the door for him, her earpiece attached to her ear showing that she was in the middle of a meeting. She smiled at him, raising her index finger to her lips and giving him a wink, waving him inside to grab the keys.

Jake grabbed the keys from the key bowl your family kept beside the garage door, his smirk growing ever more wide at seeing your keys sitting there.

So Jake washed your car first, pulling it from the garage. He didn’t even put the seat back into place after he was done like he normally would. He wanted to make your life hell the next time you sat in your car. Wanting to give him side-eyes, scrunched nose, and nasty looks every time you saw him? He’ll play your game. He even moved all the mirrors so you’d have to move them back and purposely leave your car parked in the grass in the front lawn knowing once you put two and two together you’d either rush outside to yell at him or stare at him from the second floor in your bedroom.

But you took too long to notice him, and he went ahead and started on your father’s car.

The early summer heat was making Jake exhausted. He was soaked, had soap literally everywhere, and could feel the sweat dripping down his face and body. He flung his head back, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows cursing the heat. But when he opened his eyes and saw you staring down at him from your bedroom…the game was back on.

Jake dropped the sponge into the water bucket, eyes going back to you and keeping eye contact as his fingers reached for the ends of his shirt, slowly lifting it above and over his head and dropping it onto the ground.

You quickly looked away from the window, slamming your back against the wall, hands slapping against your face.

Oh god, he’s hotter than I thought.

Since then, you didn’t mind Jake being around. You purposely started putting reminders into your phone on the days Jake would show up.

You always found Jake attractive, but that day he took his shirt off…it sent you to another world you didn’t think was possible. You were so angry at your parents for hiring him, but now all you did was thank them.

At first, you tried to hide that you were watching him, but he’d catch you every single time. And as the seasons changed from spring to summer, the less clothes Jake started to wear.

Again, he wasn’t an idiot. Jake knew you were eye fucking him every chance you got. You stopped being so secret at watching him. Giving every excuse in the book to walk into the garage to “grab something” or “get something from your car before he washes it”. It boosted his ego every single time knowing that you wanted him. He purposely started showing up wearing tighter shirts to tight tank tops that showed off his toned arms. Tighter shorts that gave away completely that man is packing.

Jake obviously thought you were hot too and he couldn’t deny that fact he’s thought about dicking you down against every single car in the garage. Imagining how completely dumb he’d have you on his cock.

And he finally was given that opportunity.

It was one of the hottest days of the week. Jake took off his tank top to cool himself off for once instead of doing it to make you tremble. But it worked in his favor as he walked into the garage to cool and dry off before moving the final car back into the garage, and you walked out.

Jake stopped halfway into the garage, eyeing you up and down.

You were wearing a white crop tank top that hugged your breasts perfectly. Jake loved the fact you weren’t wearing a bra, noticing quickly how your nipples poked through. And oh GOD he noticed how tight your shorts were, hugging your thighs and pushing up in between your pussy’s lips, showing off the outline. Jake could only imagine how good your ass looked in those shorts, silently begging that you’d give him an excuse to grab something and turn around so he could see the view.

“Oh uhhh…” you said, eyes scanning his body and stopping at his abs. You weren’t expecting to see him in the garage, clearly already finished his job. Every excuse you had to use was thrown out the window, “Finished already?”

Jake chuckled slowly walking towards you, “Since when have you cared when I’ve…finished?”

Jake was getting too close to you, well not too close to the point you didn’t like it, you obviously wanted him closer, but you weren’t prepared for it at this moment.

“I uhh…” you tried to search for the right things to say, any excuse you could say. At this point any bullshit. You’ve only ever stared at him from a distance, talked to him in passing so you could stare at him. These were the consequences of your actions.

“Use your words, baby,” Jake said, his body now inches away from yours, chuckles escaping his mouth, “What? You were so vocal about how much you hated me when we first met, why so quiet now?”

Because you’re the hottest human being I’ve ever met

You just slightly shrugged, still trying to find literally anything to say.

“I said,” he whispered, his wet, soapy hands grabbing both of yours and blessing them on his wet, soapy, sweaty chest, “Use your words,”

You tried to not moan out just from touching him. The warmth of his chest was enough to send your whole body temperature skyrocketing. Your eyes wander down to his chest, watching as the water mixed with his sweat rolled down his body, how his chest raised and fell, feeling how fast his heart was racing.

You slid your hands down his chest, stopping at the top of his abs, letting your fingers trace around them.

Just from your touch, Jake was already rock hard. He wanted nothing more than to drag you up the stairs and bend you over your bed, face pressed so deep into the sheets while he railed you from behind. But he couldn’t get up the stairs without passing your parent’s shared office. The garage would have to do.

Jake wasted no time flying his hands to your waist and pressing you to him, his lips pressing aggressively with yours.

Your thighs rubbed together at feeling him against you. You wanted him. Oh god did you want him.

Jake mapped out the garage in his mind, looking for a place he could fuck you without making anyone in the house take notice of it.

And there was only one place he could think.

Jake quickly twisted you around, your back being pressed against the hood of your car. The water and soap from Jake’s body were now seeping into your clothes, making them soaked.

Jake groaned at your now wet shirt, your nipples showing through completely and he didn’t even have to remove your shirt for it.

Jake’s lips found yours again, his fingers sliding down to your heat, rubbing it gently. You were already so soaked and he barely touched you.

“Fuck baby girl, already so wet for me?” he smirked against your lips, “Already so needy for my cock.”

You quickly nodded, wanting to feel more than just his fingers rub against your cunt.

“Use your words, we’re both adults here,”

You now wanted to beat the shit out of him. Jake was loving this, loved the way you scrunched your nose at him teasing you.

“Fuck me, Jake.”

Jake took your wrists in his hands, pinning your hands above you, “Where are your manners?” he rubbed his clothed hard dick against your cunt, “Only good girls get what they want.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, wanted to be a brat, but didn’t want to test Jake’s patience.

“Fuck me please Jakey,”

Jake groaned at the nickname, his hand going back down to your folds and sliding your shorts to the side and pushing his wet shorts down far enough to release his throbbing cock.

You bit your lip at the sight of his cock, your pussy clenching around nothing at the anticipation of him fucking you.

Jake lined himself up with you, then pushed himself in.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you, pushing him deeper inside of you.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he moaned in your ear, having to steady his hands at the side of your head to help fuck into you, “Fantasized so much on how good your pussy would feel wrapped around me.”

You had to bite down on your lip to keep your moans from escaping, not wanting to get caught.

Jake had other plans.

His hand reached up to your chin, fingers pulling your lip from your teeth and spreading your mouth open, “Oh no sweet thing,” he growled, “You’ve been so vocal before, you aren’t going to go quiet now.”

He fucked into your harder, faster, making the car beneath you two shake at his pace, “Moan for me. Moan my name, use that pretty voice of yours.”

You tilted your head to the side, attaching your lips to his ear, moaning out his name.

If you were going to be vocal, it was going to directly be in his ear. And oh man Jake was loving it.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he groans, his fingers trying to keep their grips on the hood from how wet and sweaty he was, from the soap that covered his body making it hard to keep in place. But he didn’t care. He was balls deep inside you, you were moaning his name like it was the only word you could speak. He was in heaven fucking an angel.

Jake didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last, your tight cunt was sucking him so good and he was so pussy drunk he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop until he was unloading himself into you. His climax was fast approaching, but he’d be damned if he came before you.

His hand flew to your cunt, thumb rubbing circles against your clit and his lips sucking on your soft spot just below your ear and jaw, “Cum for me baby,”

Your pussy clenched around him, the sensation and the magic of his fingers was sending you over the edge. Your hands gripped the hood of your car the best they could as you released onto him.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he moaned biting your skin, his thrusts slowly coming to a stop as he made one final push, painting your gummy walls white.

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling out of you and setting your shorts back into place.

Fuck you were a sight to see, looking so fucked out against your car that he just finished washing that now had your and his hand prints all over the hood.

Damn, guess he now has an excuse to have to come back over tomorrow to “wash it again” or better yet fuck you against it and every car in this garage.

And by the look on your face, Jake knew you were thinking the same thing.

[hoshigray]

Hiya tojis darling ;)

I wonder if you can do this request but if not. Completely fine

wedding night with sexually frustrated toji. Reader is virgin.

Hello, krystal~ :D Been a while since you last requested, hope you're everything on your end is going okay! Lol, yes, I am indeed Toji's darling, currently watching TV with him as we speak~ Omg, I love this idea sm, hope I did justice with this one! Tysm for the request, nice to see you again~☆

Also, if you're reading this, know I'm currently away from this app for the week as I'm out on a trip with my close buds!! I'll still be writing when I get the time, so feel free to drop by my inbox as it'll still be open :3 Also also, I recently got to 1.8k followers!?!?? Sending hearts to y'all :D maybe we'll celebrate at 2k? I'll think about it while I'm gone...Anywho, plz enjoy this~

Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - soft one minute, then immediate smut, my bad haha - kissing/makeout session in a car; PDA (ig??) - Daddy kink - sex in a hotel room - oral (f! receiving) - missionary position - overstimulation - praise - biting (Toji nibble on your ear)- pet names (baby, darlin', cutie, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking, sucking, and rubbing) - Toji being a good hubby for your first time, but still a menace - mentions of handjobs, blowjobs, and drool. Wc: 2.7k

"So? You feeling excited~?"

"Umm, I guess so? More like a bit scared..."

"Hehe, I get that. Shit, I'd be nervous, too, starting my honeymoon off with that hunk of a man...Oop! Speaking of, here he comes now..."

You watch your best friend, Utahime, poke to the side with their chin, and you turn to see the direction they pointed to. Tonight was the night of your wedding; the boisterous atmosphere by your guests was still alive and well but will soon wane by the second as the moment you've been anxious about has finally come. You're about to walk out of the venue to the SUV, waiting for you to head to the airport. But before you could do that, someone else had to accompany you. Your groom, the man you married today, walked towards you.

The day you'd see yourself get married to Toji Fushiguro was a day you couldn't foresee. Even after a long while being in a committed relationship with the older man, it's still hard to believe that he proposed to you on your birthday a year and a half ago. Five years of loving and being patient together all led to this moment, and it still baffles you that you are no longer a girlfriend — but a wife. And he, your husband.

Now that the party is coming to a close and pictures are almost finished taken, Toji approaches you outside his wedding attire. Finished changing out of his wedding tux, now substituted with a black turtleneck and dark jeans, a silver chain decorating around his neck. He surveys your changed appearance, your stunning white dress replaced with a comfortable yet elegant jumpsuit that compliments your beautiful skin and figure. He gives you a grin, and your heart swoons. "Lookin' gorgeous, baby."

Your cheeks grow warm, averting your eyes somewhere away from your handsome spouse. "Thank you...you too."

"Awww, look at you being all shy!" Utahime pokes fun at you, snickering to themself when she sees you glare at them. "You better be good to this one, Toji. They just might faint if you look their way~."

The man chuckles at the comment. "Maybe that's what I'm hopin' for, now that I got 'em all to myself." He then moves closer to pull you by the shoulder, your body rigid being towed to his chest, and you just know your friend has a stupid look of glee from the display of affection. "Ready?"

You incline to face him and give a meek nod. He kisses your cheek with a smirk, and Utahime squeals before heading to the front door in front of you. Busting it open to showcase the crowd awaiting your arrival, you two walk down in unison as the guests cheer for the newly wedded couple.

As you make it down the aisle, you look around and share smiles with the familiar faces that came and had fun at your wedding until the blazing sun was replaced with the happy moon. Friends and family clapping their hands to you and your husband, wishing and shouting praises and good luck for the two of you. You saw Mei Mei blowing kisses your way, Gojo lifting his shades to wink at you, and your college buddies chanting your name with your relatives.

On the other side, you could make out Shiu Kong in the far back, taking out the cigarette between his lips and waving goodbye to you and his friend. Geto stands at the front, smiling while his two daughters yell, "Congratulations!!" as you descend. And at the end stands Nanami with a small smile, and beside him are Toji's children. Tsumiki, your pretty flower girl, comes to give you a hug. Megumi, the once stoic ring bearer, followed his sister to do the same.

You return the embrace to the kids, telling them to promise to be good until you return and proceed to walk into the backseat of the car. Toji closes your door and walks to the other side to take his seat, and a roar of applause and cheers erupts when the vehicle drives out of the scene. A tremendous wave of tranquility washes over you now that you're away from the gathering; the wedding is officially over.

However, after you release a long sigh and rest your eyes with shut eyelids, you hear the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling and something — or someone — moving closer to you. And a pair of lips on your neck has you snap your eyes back open.

"T-Toji!" You yell at him in a hushed tone, taking note of the driver in front of your seat. "Not here, wait til we're at—"

"I know, sweetie, I know," he says but resumes arranging your neck and clavicle with kisses. "You just look so fuckin' beautiful; can't a guy have a small piece of his wife before then?" As if you could give him a proper answer before he brings his lips onto yours, your moans taken by him while he sucks and nibbles on your bottom lip.

You grab his turtleneck as you try to suppress the whimpers from airing out, not wanting the driver to hear what's happening in his car (although he's secretly listening to his own music with his earphones). But when Toji's hand snakes down to your butt and gives it a squeeze, you squeak. "Toji!" you whisper shout at him again, and all you're given is a snicker from the sly bastard you're stuck with.

"Shhhhh, lemme have you fr' just a second." Your tiny glare fuels his hunger more, taking your lips once more. And he toys with you throughout the ride to the airport. Such a liar!! You cursed, but this moment was bound to happen.

Despite spending many years together, how you've managed to still be a virgin is still a mystery even to you. You never thought so much about letting your virginity go, so you treated it as something sacred that you only wished to give to the right person. However, when the right person came through, you realized you still weren't ready to let it go. Bless your lucky stars, though, that your [former] boyfriend opted to wait for you, even when you said that it would probably happen when you two get married. You thanked the heavens for having such a patient man, as it showed how much he loved and treasured you.

...But having such a patient, attractive, and brawny man in your life for so long was not an easy task on your part. There have been moments when you'd fantasize about the fateful day Toji would deflower you, so much so there were nights your fantasies took the best of you, and your fingers slithered down the hem of your panties. Or the days when your eyes would linger on his strong, muscular body for too long before your face would feel as hot as the sun, and you'd want to melt on the spot when Toji catches you glancing, a giant smirk plastered on his face. Or times when he'd be too horny, and you'd offer to help him with his erections. Your blowjobs and handjobs would do more bad than good for both of you. Because Toji's desire for you increased day by day.

So ever since you walked down that aisle, you knew your eventual doom was coming to get you. Even when you two fly on your honeymoon, you sense his patience dwindle by the hours. And once you make it to the enchanting luxury suite, he finally snaps. Hoisting you up bridal style and storming right to the bed, clothes discarded to the floor, and lights dimmed to a softer glow.

"Ahhhnn!! Ahhaaa!! Tojiii!! It's too much!! Too mu—Mmnaaah!" He's now between your thighs, your legs propped up by his strong hands and cunt coated with your wetness out for him to see. Your cries are ignored by the obdurate older man, who flicks your clit with his tongue.

"I know, , but gotta have you right fr' me." He coos, chaste kisses set on your inner thighs. "Don't wan' break my baby on their first night." His words meant out for comfort, yet contrasted with the raunchy, lewd noises he was making on your slit. Licking and sucking on your moist folds, teeth grazing your sensitive vulva while his tongue satiates his thirst with your slick. His nose bumping into your clitoris in the midst of it all has you gripping the shits beneath you.

Tears prickle the ends of your shut eyes, your face hot like the air in the room, and your body sweaty and shivering from being in this position for about fifteen minutes. Toji said that the best thing for you was to have him tease and get your body ready. Nevertheless, had you known that you'd have the man eating you out nonstop like this, you would've prepped yourself better! It's so bad that your head pounds, his wet muscle attacking your chasm precisely to the point of your mind being stuck in a haze. No wonder you're constantly jolting, and your legs won't stop shaking — you've come three times already!!

"Hey, mama," you hear him call you, but you can't format a functional sentence now. You respond with gibberish you hope he can make sense of. "Say my name, and I'll let ya cum."

"T...Toji—Eeeyaahh!" He sucks on your clit with vigor; you could've sworn you almost choked on a gasp.

"Aht aht, the other one." Emerald eyes examine your direction.

You bite your lip at the patronizing tone of his voice. You know what he's referring to; it's just too embarrassing to say. For the sake of putting an end to this pleasurable hell and getting what you really want, however, your tongue burns at what you say next.

"Mmmm, please, Daddy...Please, let me cum. I want it!" You whine with hooded eyes looking down at him, and his devilish grin almost makes you melt. Without saying another word, his mouth returns to your leaky cunt. But this time, he brings a. hand down south, and his fingers rub rough circles on your delicate bud, the two sensations shocking your body into an experience you've never experienced before.

It's only a matter of seconds that you come right then and there, your body jerking and legs quivering in sync with your walls clamping onto nothing. And your cries don't stop there, more wails fill the room as Toji drinks your creamy substance for the fourth time that night. His tongue protruded into your spongey core and roughly licked on its tender nerves.

You appreciate the moment he lets you rest for a few seconds after removing his mouth from you, your shivering body slowly calming down to a stable state. You feel so sticky and dirty with the mess between your legs, coated with come and spit. So vulgar to even think about it that your ears ring.

Toji licks his lips of your wetness, "Did s' good fr' me, mama. Such a good girl fr' Daddy." He then stations your legs around his waist, and you peer down to watch him align his erect cock to your entrance. "Ready, cutie? Gonna need ya' to take some deep breaths fr' me, okay?" You nod and follow his instructions. The head of his cock pushes to you with every exhale, and your eyes automatically sew shut when his girth bullying your entrance brings in pain. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into tan skin as you fight the discomfort.

But it all slowly vanishes once the tip slides in, a sharp cry escaping you. More whimpers and choked sobs fly out when he gradually pushes his length into you, tears striking down as his girth stretches your insides.

"Mmmm, holy fuckin' shit," he curses under his breath. "You're so tight, baby." You can only hum as a reply before his hips start moving at a slow cadence. The feeling of his dick between your walls is hard to comprehend. It's finally happened; you're no longer a virgin. So full of him inside you, unable to put into words the feeling you're experiencing right now.

It takes every part of his being for Toji to keep his ruts to a slow pace. He knows this is a big moment for you — it's necessary that you don't get too overwhelmed by him, or else something could go completely wrong. And he wouldn't want that for you. Despite that, a part of him really wants to relish your body. Five years of waiting for you to be ready for him. Five years of fighting the urge to pin you down and have you to himself. Five years of desire all crumble down for this exact moment. Now, when he finally has you for himself and no one else, the patience that was once there converts into that of pure lust.

His hips increase speed, and your hands cling onto him for dear life. The walls of your chasm clamp into him even harder, and your legs wrap around him, Toji groaning at your grip on him. He snickers through gritted teeth, "Jesus Christ, mama, y'r tryin' to snap my dick off? I'm not goin' nowhere." He coos while wiping tears from your eyes.

You open your mouth to say something, but all that leaves your mouth is a scream when he slams his pelvis into your cunt. The action has you arch your back toward him, his length brushing up on the sweet spots that you never considered were there. More mewls bounce off the walls of the suite as his thrusts recur with a vigorous rhythm.

"Daddy, I'm, Oh Jesus—Aiishhhh!!" You hiss out for him, eyes rolling back when he grinds his pelvis on your messy vulva. Squelching noises burn your ears. "I'm gonna cum, Daddy, I wanna cum!"

"Hnngh!! Yeah, sweetie, think y'r gonna cum?" He draws down closer for his lips to be dangerously close to your ear. Your slit clutching hard on his dick. "Wanna cum on Daddy's dick like a good girl?"

"Yes, yessss! Please, I want it!!" You wail out, no regard to how loud your voice is right now. All you want is your orgasm.

Toji's chuckle is too close to your eardrums. You squirm under him, and he playfully bites the lobe of your ears. "Go 'head, darlin'. Make a real mess on me, ya hear?" He kisses you lovingly while his hips snap at you at an erratic tempo, prompting uncontrollable moans to enter the air against your will. With every rut is an abrasive hit to the tender spots within you, and your clit doesn't go unnoticed when he brings his hand back down to play with it, grinding on the pearl rough with his calloused forefinger. And it's thanks to this that your fifth release comes to you in mere seconds.

Your husband tries to rut out more deep thrusts into you and plunge into you a while longer. But it's to no avail when your cunt flutters on his cock deliciously, forcing him to succumb to an orgasm of his own. Moans are exchanged between your mouths, and your bodies experience the aftershocks together.

And when the two of you enter a halcyon state with the quiet room, Toji frees your lips off his and wipes your pretty face off of tears and drool. "So," he kisses your cheeks. "How ya feelin'? Like a new person?"

"...I don't think I can feel my vagina anymore." You say aimlessly, happy to know your drained self has the older man laughing.

"Sorry 'bout that, mama." He brings his lips to your forehead. "Be lucky I'm tired from that wedding and flight. Otherwise, I'd be fuckin' the shit out of you all night." He snickers at your helpless expression, shaking your head at such a fantasy. There's all the time in your honeymoon for that.

You use whatever strength you have left to bring your hands to his face to cup. "Thank you for sparing me, my lovely husband."

Toji hums with a smile, the scar on the right of his lip lifted. And he kisses you until fatigue takes over you both, sleep being the only thing that shuts you from the outside world. The warmth of your embrace and the connection of your bodies are proof of the start of your newlywedded life.

[angelisverba]

achilles heel

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

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ping!

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

Ping!

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

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

Y/n: Hi, Harry! 

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

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

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

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

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

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

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

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

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

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

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

Harry: I’m On my way! 

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes. 

And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 

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

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

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

Harry: I’m outside

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

Y/n: Be right there!

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

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But y/n breaks their eye contact. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was having a bad trip. 

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

But his next thought cowed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” she responds.

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

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

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

“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the sound of her name, y/n’s eyes shut tightly, and her chest rises quickly with sharp breaths that escape her mouth. Dropping her head, a long whine seeps away from her like a sticky substance, and Harry wants to wipe it all away. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way, or what he should do to help her, because he’s had bad trips but they’ve all been hallucinogen-based.

“Baby-” 

“Y/n” the asshole with the dark hair calls her name so arrogantly, Harry can’t help but wonder what they’re like sober, “who is that? Will you come back inside? We’re about to start playing pass-blow.” 

They’ve interrupted him twice now, and with every second that passes, he gets huffier. Frustrated. Angry. Because he’s just trying to talk to this angel and they’re overwhelming her. Y/n is whimpering now, her hands moist in his, and she’s sniffling every few seconds. 

“Y/n,” he tries again to get her to look at him, to say something. He doesn’t want to act inappropriately, and with her consent already being disregarded once tonight, he’s doing everything in his power to get her to speak what she wants. 

With glassy eyes, y/n dazedly stared at him for a moment. Her expression was stuck between confusion and sadness, her lips downturned and her brows furrowed, “Wanna leave, H.” 

Harry nodded at her, “Okay, we can leave.” Then he stood up and grabbed the sweater over his shoulder, “Put this on first, lovie. It’s cold.” Slipping it over her head and helping her stick her arms through, he tugged it all the way down, near to her knees, all the while ignoring the group that started and whispered behind her. When he was done, he pulled her under his arm and walked in the direction of his bike. 

All of two seconds passed before an agitating, grating voice interrupted them, “Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” 

Harry can’t take it anymore. Placing his hand at the back of her head to cup her to his chest while he turns around to spit out a response at this douchebag, he takes deep breaths and tries to focus on her comfort. He tries to focus on the warmth of her breath against his chest and the way one hand is wrapped around his wrist, her fingers drawing loose circles on the tender skin, and the other is clutching his shirt tightly. But he feels that he has to say something, in some weird ‘marking my territory’ kind of way.

“Fuck off, asshole! You’re not getting shit from me anymore,” Y/n jumps in his arms at the tone and volume of his voice, and the wimp shrinks back, too. He mumbles something about it ‘not being fair’ like a whiny child and turns around. Harry gently removes her hand from his wrist so he can wrap it around her shoulders, and starts walking down the pathway back to his motorcycle, whispering, “C’mon baby, walk with me. Do you want me to take you somewhere? I can call an Uber? Sarah’s house? We can go back to my place, too. Y’name it, love, I’ll do it for you.” 

“Okay.” If she’s surprised at his sudden softening, she doesn’t show it. Hell, she’s probably too out of it to do anything but appreciate anyone that is considerate to her current state, given that she was hanging around assholes who were making fun of her while she was having a bad trip. 

They reach his bike, and Harry guides her by her shoulders to sit with her butt on the side of his seat. He crouches down in front of her, and wraps his hand on the back of her shins, grasping firmly to give her some kind of sensation to ground herself on. The loopy look in her eye that was there when he first arrived has drifted away like mist in a breeze, and she’s looking at him a bit more clearly. 

“You still doing okay?” He asks, trying to catch her eyes but y/n is fiddling with her fingers and looks a little… frustrated? “Y/n? Can you tell me what you want to do, love?”

“M’sorry,” Her lower lip wobbles and there’s a small tremble in her chin. Her eyes, when she finally finds his, are watery, and it makes Harry’s heart pinch. He wants to hold her until she’s okay. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but can we... go back to your place?”

He rises then and cups her face in his hands to ensure that she’s looking at him. A little voice in his head is telling him that he’s being too touchy and needs to tone it down, but y/n can’t seem to keep her hands off him. His elbows are warmed through his jacket by her nimble fingers. 

Cooing at her almost, “Hey, s’kay. Y/n okay. No crying, alright? I’m happy that I could be here to help you, okay? Of course, we can go back to my place, as long as you’re cool with it. Are you comfortable riding on my motorcycle right now? I can order an uber if you aren’t.”

 “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” Nodding, she sniffles and looks into his eyes finally. They sparkle underneath the light, like stars are trapped in her pupils, and the sight takes his breath away. She’s still whispering, but it’s no longer as panicked and short. It might just be the brownies wearing off, or her high calming down. 

“Right, then.” Before letting go of her sweet face, he swipes his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks in a soothing motion. He walks around to the back of his bike and unlocks the compartment to take out a spare helmet. Holding it up, he gestures for her to tilt her head towards him, “safety first.” 

“Your eyes are pretty. Like that thing that makes Superman weak.”  

“Kryptonite, baby?” He secures the helmet on her head and makes sure it fits by tilting her head this way and that to check for wiggle room. When he’s satisfied, he raises the glass panel and murmurs, “and yours are prettier than mine.”

“Mhm,” she blinks blearily up at him, and his heart expands three times its size in his chest.  “And you really think so?” 

“I know so.” They share a small smile, and Harry’s nose is pink from the cold and the warmth of her gaze. He swings a leg over to straddle his bike, and scoots forward to make space for her, and pats the seat behind him.  “Come sit behind me, love.” 

Y/n grabs the hand that he holds out for her, and clumsily takes the seat. 

“Now hold on to me. Hands around my waist,” There’s a strange pitch in his voice, and he has to clear his throat before speaking. Y/n listens to every word he says and places her hands on his waist so lightly, they might as well not even be there. The touch, as innocent as it might be, makes him squirm, and to hide it, he grabs them, and brings them around so she can splash her own fingers at his belly button. “Tighter, sweetheart. I don’t want you to slip off. If you don’t want to see, you can press your face into my neck, okay.” 

“Okay,” she peeps. Harry pats her hands and turns his key in the ignition. 

“Ready?” With his ankle, he kicks the stand up, and looks over his shoulder to check in on her. The muscles in his stomach are doing a strange tightening and flexing because they don’t know how to act normally under her touch.

“Yes.” 

She squeezes her arms tightly around his waist, and she can feel her face pressing into his back as he starts his engine to take her home.

*** 

“Who were those people?” 

It seemed as though removing her from the situation (Harry hates even thinking about the word because it wasn’t a situation, it was a fucking catastrophe that the poor little thing had to go through what she did) had been the best thing to do. From the looks of it, y/n was having a pretty normal high now, asking him if he had anything to snack on that was sweet and tart because she was hungry and her mouth was dry. 

He kept himself well stocked on berries and fruit for this exact reason, so while he stood at the aisle in the middle of his kitchen cutting strawberries into nifty little hearts and tossing them into a bowl with freshly rinsed raspberries and blueberries, y/n sat on the barstool, watching him and humming a little tune. She was much different from the way she had been fifteen minutes ago, when they had just walked into his house, blubbering about how she was so sorry that he was losing sleep because of her, and how she still didn’t feel right. It took ten minutes of holding her in his lap on the couch (he still felt overly warm at having her so close to him),  shushing and cooing at her, letting her know that everything was alright while stroking her hair, and another three before she stopped crying, and let him know he had a nice voice that tickled her spine and that she had the munchies. 

Not that she called them that, of course. Harry doesn’t think she had ever heard the term, given how she knows fuck all about drugs and being high, just said “I’m hungry, h. Do you have anything tart and sweet? It feels like there’s a dragon in my belly.” 

So he chucked, rubbed her back as he slipped her onto the spot next to him, and let her know that he had just the thing, and that he would be right back. But that didn’t stop her from trailing behind him like a duckling imprinted on her new human, pitter-pattering all over his tiled floor.

He hopes that she doesn’t feel like he’s prying, because while he was curious to know what compelled her to keep that kind of company, he wanted to know anything about her. This just seemed like a good segway into her. 

Y/n is bobbing her head side to side to keep time with the cat clock he has up on the wall. She’s matching pace with its swinging tail, and clicking her tongue every second, pausing only briefly to say, “my co-workers,” in a chipper tone. 

Casually, he hums, “The ones that bully you?”

“Yeah!” She’s quick to respond, and quick to realize what she confirmed. Meaning she also realized Harry knew something she had never told him about, and this confuses her. Snapping her head away from the clock, he watches as her shoulders droop and she takes in what he said. The gears were turning clearly on her face, when finally, she spits out her question warily, “Hey… how’d you know that?”

Harry froze mid-strawberry heart. He couldn’t exactly say that he had been asking Mitch about her, and that had told her about her relationship with everyone at work because then that would make him seem more like a creep and less like a love-struck infatuated fool,  but he also didn’t want to lie to her completely. He had to stick with a little white lie,  “umm, Sarah mentioned something about observing shitty things happening at work, and she mentioned your name.”

“Oh,” y/n’s lips form a little pout, “Are you mad?” When those words come out of her mouth, the possibility of him seemingly being mad at her starts overwhelming her senses, and she starts sputtering again, “I’m sorry- I’m just- I feel off, I-I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie. I’m sorry. You probably think I’m a wimp.”

With sympathetically pursed lips, Harry shakes his head and gently soothes her worries, “I’m not mad. Y’just having a bad trip, sweetheart. It happens sometimes, even to me. When you’re not in a comfortable environment, it happens.” He finishes with the final strawberry slice, and slides the bowl across the way for her, “this is for you, should help with the munchies. Want some water?” 

“Please and thank you,” she mumbles around a bite of pink fruit. Sliding a glass across the table, Harry stands across the island to watch her. Y/n hand one hand wrapped around the small bowl, and the other holds fruit to her pouty red lips, swollen by the assault of her teeth. A trail of juice glistens down the side of her finger, and he watches, transfixed, as a pink tongue flicks out to lap up the mess in one, two, or three, tiny licks. A thick glob of saliva collects at the back of his throat because she's moaning, too. Little satisfied hums of pleasure and barely audible sounds of suction don’t escape him. 

Blood rushes to the center of him, tenting his pants and he has to go somewhere because fuck she might see it if he has to get close to her. 

Clearing his throat, Harry averts his eyes and tries to find somewhere else to set his eyes. Anywhere else because it’s so easy to picture his the ruddy mushroomed head of his cock pressed against her mouth like the tip of the strawberry heart, glistening with the moisture of precum and strings of her saliva as she wipes away his mess with her tongue like an eager little puppy. 

What was wrong with him? She needed his help, and had turned to him when she needed him. She had already had people pouncing on her, she didn’t need someone else chasing her skirts. 

“S’good, Harry,” y/n gulped down the last few pieces, and Harry blinked. Hard. “Can I have some more?”

There was a wide, lazy feline smile on her mouth. She looked… hazy. A bit sweaty. Disheveled.  Y/n looked freshly fucked, and stray drops of fruit around her mouth were making it so incredible hard for him to breathe, “no more lovie,” he managed to say, “or you’ll get a stomachache.” 

“Okay, H,” y/n yawned, unfazed by his rejection. Unaware of how crazy Harry was about her right now. His composure was fraying by the second. His mind played visions of them together like little prophecies, his tongue licking a stripe across the side of her face as he pounded her from behind so hard her eyes teared up. Her nails left little marks on his back from where she tried to grab leverage to bounce faster in his lap. Her skin dipping where Harry pawed at her to bring back against his dick. Fuck, he had to go into the restroom and tuck his boner into his pants. 

“Sleepy?” He rasped, voice trembling, eyes glued to her glassy doe eyes, “come, I’ll show you to your bed.” It was easier to be quiet and gentle with her. A calm version of him meant a restrained version of him. Clean as opposed to filthy. Good instead of bad. 

Her bed was really his bed. In his hurry to angle himself in such a way that she won’t see his raging erection, she forgets the state of disarray his bedroom is in. He walks slowly so he can hear the pitter-patter of her feet trailing after him, and stops at his door. Opening it, he inwardly cringes at everything inside. Blankets strewn all over the expanse of his mattress. Untucked and unaligned. One of his pillows on the floor instead of on the bed, and a rolling tray with crumbles of weed and baked mango bits on his bedside table. 

Harry rushed to that first, not wanting her to see anything else related to drugs. So much for a first impression. What a way to enforce the bum-drug dealer stereotype. 

“Promise m’not this messy,” he grumbles, picking up loose t-shirts and sweaters off the floor as he goes to turn on the lamp (swipe the tray away before she has a chance to see it), “it was a rough night. Was having a hard time sleeping.” 

Y/n squeaks behind him and he turns. She’s still standing by the doorway, “t-this is your bed?” 

Oh, God, she hates it. Harry starts swiping blankets off the bed to remake it for her. What was thinking, giving the sweet girl a messy bed?.“Yeah. I know it’s a little messy but I promise the mattress is comfortable. I bought it last year because I was having back problems a-”

“Where will you sleep?”

He starts tucking cover on the edges of his mattress, trying to be quick about it so she can see it’ll be neat for her. “On the couch, lovie.” 

“B-but… this is your bed?” y/n poses it like a question, but Harry can hear the guilt in her voice because she would be taking his bed. 

“I know that,” smiling softly at her, he shakes out and fluffs the pillows. “But I want you to sleep here instead. It’s much better than the couch.” 

“Are you sure?” Her fingers tangle at her navel.m

He nods and tucks the used blanket under his arm to take to the couch with him. “More than, sweetheart,” Looking at her attire, he pulls open his drawer and grabs some items for him and a few for her, “want to change into something else or is that okay for you? Can give you a sweater or a t-shirt.” 

Eyes lighting up at the large black shirt, y/n reaches out and points to it, “Can I have a shirt, please?” 

“When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does. But it happens, low and gravelly like the drag of a big cat’s tail on a cave floor. He sees the way her cheeks burn with his effect, and his cock throbs in his pants. He needs to get out of the room.  “There’s a restroom down the hall if you have to go, and an extra toothbrush in the cabinet. I’m gonna sleep right outside, so let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Y/n nods, “Okay.” 

The moment he closes the door slightly behind him, his hand clutches his ground, shifting it sideways so he’s not pressing up against the zipper. 

It was going to be a long night. 

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 

Which is strange because he doesn’t own a cat, and high-pitched whimpering sounds are coming from… his bedroom? They’re muffled because his door is half closed. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes- if you can even call it that, he was tossing and turning because he couldn’t focus on sleeping knowing the object of his main thoughts is only a few strides away- Harry swings his feet off the side of the couch and pushes off with his knuckles. The sweatpants he had on dragged down low on his hips, the slant of his Adonis belt, and the thin skin right above the base of his cock visible. Sleepily, he tugged them higher and pressed the door open to check in on y/n.

And he felt his heart stop in his chest at what he saw.

Y/n was writhing in his bed, the sheet tangled between her legs and she was naked. Her face was flushed with tears, her chest choked up with sobs she was trying to keep down by biting on his pillow. Her hair was wild from her erratic movements caused by… well Harry didn’t know what. 

He rushed to her side, “Y/n! Y/n, baby.” 

A gasp wrenched itself from her chest, eyes were blown wide so that he could see how red they were, swollen at the waterline. She yelped like just his touch hurt him, and after removing his hands to ease her pain, Harry frantically ran his gaze all over her body, looking for anywhere she might be hurt. To see if maybe she had had some kind of reaction to the drugs she had taken. 

“What is it, love? Talk to me,” he whispers, not wanting to scare her even more. His thick brows are furrowed heavily, eyes heavy with concern and a touch of sleep. He had never felt so helpless before, at a loss for what to do. He wanted to cradle her close to his chest and rock her sweetly until her crying stopped. 

Y/n keened, whiny and long, “I’m sorry, Harry.” 

“Why are you sorry, lovie? Tell me what’s wrong so I can make it all okay,” he rubs a hand across her head, featherlight but enough to brush the hair away so he could see her clearly. She turned to him, following his touch with her nose like an animal searching for the warmth of touch, and then curled deeper into herself, hands clutching at her navel, “do we have to go to the hospital, y/n?”

“I was hungry, H,” y/n shuts her eyes tightly and gulps a breath of air, “but you said no more.. and there were brownies in the drawer.” 

Harry rubs her back, transfixed by y/n’s bizarre actions as she moans at his touch. Cocking his head to the side, he mumbles what she said, “brownies in the…” 

Realization dawned on in. 

No, no, no, no. Looking at the bedside table that previously housed his rolling tray, it now was covered with two, blood-red pieces of crumpled foil crumbs of chocolate dotted around the trash. The words Kitty-kat Brat in a sensual, curly font stamped on the side. A script of warning on the side said that each partner should only consume a fourth of the brownie every hour as desired and that after consumption, the effect would only be sated by the exhaustion of endorphins. And at the top, in a glitter color: aphrodisiac. 

Y/n had consumed two aphrodisiacs that Harry kept for himself on the occasion that a partner might want to experiment with them. The poor girl was hurting because she was… so fucking horny. 

“Oh, lovie,” Harry sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. What the fuck was he going to do? Leave her? No, he couldn’t do that when… when her pussy was weeping for attention. Call someone else to help? When help meant she would get fucked so hard she’d be cock-dumb? Absolutely not. But also, Harry didn’t feel right touching her when she was clearly under another influence. And if he didn’t feel right doing it himself, why the fuck would he let someone else do it? With a curled knuckle, he hooks her chin and forces her to look at him,  “can you tell me exactly what it is you’re feeling? S’okay, don’t be embarrassed.” 

Y/n shuts her eyes and tries to yank her chin away, but Harry tightens his grip, pinching the sides of her mouth so she can’t move, “can’t do that, H.” 

It’s laughable really, he thinks. How whiny she’s being when her actions are the reason she was in this position. He had told her no more, and did she listen to him? No. In fact, she went looking through his drawers and ate his brownies, which he did not give permission for her to do. 

If there was one thing that got him riled up, it was girls who didn’t listen and then cried at the consequences of their own actions. 

He chuckled at her, even though he was surprised at the change in his feelings about the situation, but he couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. Here he was, thinking she was this innocent little thing. And she eats his fucking sex brownies. Shaking his head, he taps her cheek with his finger to get her to pay attention to him, “I need to know what’s happening so I can find some way to help. Aren’t you hurting, baby?”

Keening, back arching off the bed, she cries, “So badly, Harry. My… pussy hurts. I’ve already cum so many times but nothing I do is working!” Blood rushes to his dick at the lewd confession. How long she has been in here with her fingers rubbing her cunt with him just outside the door. Muffling her moans so he doesn’t hear them. The thought makes him groan internally. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

His voice is low and gravelly, filled with a hunger that was kindling in his loins in preparation to spread like wildfire. “What doesn’t feel right?” He asked. 

“Me doing it myself,” she swallows wetly, and her hand comes up to grip his wrist, Her thighs are chafed from how urgently she keeps rubbing them together, and through the lace of her bralette he can see how hard her nipples are. The glassy look in her eyes isn’t just from tears, it’s a reflection of how deep her need goes.  “I-I… I want someone else to do it. I want you to do it.” 

Little crescents of broken skin are left in her wake, and he lets her. The sting of pain is keeping him centered at the moment. The sound of her harsh breathing, rustling of the mattress springs from all her movement, and the bursts of circling motion at her hips are testing him. He wants to squeeze the tip of his dick to alleviate some of the aches that are settling there. “You want me to do what, sweet thing?” 

 “I want you to help me, H. Please?” Blinking at him blearily, y/n pouts. She was begging him. 

Crooning to her with a condescending pout of his own, Harry cups the side of her face and runs a thumb under her eyes were tears have started falling once more, “help you what? Use your words.” 

Y/n huffs and sobs, her heels sliding against the mattress, “help me cum! Please, I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look at me, y/n. I said look at me,” he shakes her by the grip he has on her face gently to get her to snap out of the whining and whimpering. Needing her eyes on him so that he could read her, he asks “Are you sure about this?” 

“Yes, yes. I am. Please do something.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

The girl is back to mewling, taking the hand on her face and moving it down to her legs so that Harry would get the hint, “please touch me, H.” 

Y/n pulls him down onto the bed by his hand, and Harry lets her tug at him until he’s sitting down next to her before he pulls out of her grip and grabs both of her hands in one. Placing them above her head, he looks at her pointedly, eyes dark, so she doesn’t move her hands from where he leaves them. Big hands splayed wide across her trailed down the sides of her waist and stopped at her hips, rubbing gentle circles, “Open y’legs, don’t be shy now. M’just gonna help, and I need to see what I’m working with.” 

Briefly, she mumbles some kind of complaint, the remnants of any modesty making themselves known, but Harry wasn’t having any of it. He waited, glaring at her almost, until she allowed her thighs to fall open freely, and he hummed low at the back of his throat. Sliding his palms up the inside of her thigh, he began to talk to her in a tone that many didn’t get to hear, “want my fingers, lovie? Or my mouth? Don’t think you deserve my cock for being naughty and touching something that wasn’t yours. Only good girls get my cock.” 

“Everything, H. I’m sorry, won’t do it again. Give me anything you want,” y/n weeps, her hands in a fist above her head digging into the pillow that is halfway out of its case from all her moving around. 

“Think I’ll pet y’weepy cunt first, hmm? How does that sound?” Harry bites back a moan and feels the tip of his dick rubbing against the inside of his sweatpants. Reaching down to adjust himself doesn’t seem like a priority when his girl is beneath him with her legs wide open and pleas are falling from her lips for him to touch her. The inside of her thighs are irritated, the black gusset of her thin underwear stained white with the cream of her pussy. He wants to press his nose against her and lick her clean. His mouth is watering for him to do something of the sort but instead, he hooks her underwear aside and… 

And his own hips buck forward against his will. She’s so slick, it's running down the seam of her ass and onto his bedsheets. Drops of her creamy cut sit on the edge of her hole, accumulated from her previous orgasms. Y/n twists uncomfortably and pants. Harry, wanting to hear her cries again, smears her cum with two fingers around her entrance, and slides them into her pussy. 

“Perfe- oh, God.” She clenches around him, and he can feel that spongy place brush against the tip of his finger the second before she starts twitching from an orgasm. Her mouth drops open in a silent scream and her head tilts back into the mattress. Harry smirks as she cums from one touch, and his own jaw drops at the amount of moisture that comes out of her, dripping onto his knuckles. 

Guiding her through it, Harry continues moving his fingers at a steady pace, bringing his thumb up to the hood of her mound to press against her clit, “Oh, y’poor thing. Just a touch and y’already gushing on m’hand? Thought I was gonna have to try for it. Y’cum this easy for everyone, lovie, or jus’ me?” He leans over her with a hand braced beside her head and whispers into her ear,  “how ‘bout I work f’the next one?” 

Ripples of need were running down his spine and to his groin but he focused all of his energy into paying attention to what made her react the most. Listening for the hitch in her breath. He dragged his fingers out slowly, curling them on the inside of her wall as he did so where was persistent pressure leading up to her g-spot, and y/n made an animalistic noise mixed between a whine and cry. His tongue lolled against the side of her ear, the skin hot and flushed from the heat of her body. Harry nipped the tender flesh of her neck and waited to hear her yelp to soothe the sting with his tongue. Kissing his way down to her throat, he presses his fingers into her as far as they go and runs circles around her clit while keeping steady pressure on the bundle of nerves inside of her. He’s rubbing her inside and outside, slowly, slowly, and then starts picking up the pace. 

Y/n is mewling, her tits in the air as her back lifts up in a hold.  Her moans are becoming louder, her pussy tightening around his fingers and he knows she’s going to orgasm again. He’s mumbling how good she is being for him against the side of her breast, his nose holding back the flimsy lace as he leaves the plush skin and fights the urge to cant his hips into the bed like a dog in heat. He feels hot everywhere, like the heat turned on by itself in his room, and when y/n’s fingers curl into his hair and pull as she cums again and screams his name he can’t find it in him to reprimand her. Harry just talks her through it. 

“Good girl, y/n. Y’being so good for me. Think you can give me another, lovie? Because I want one more. Y’gonna give me one more, okay?” Cooing at the way she digs her head back into the pillows and shakes her head, Harry increases his rhythm so that the muscles in his bicep flex with every move. She’s still spasming around him from the orgasm she’s riding, but he doesn’t let it end, “ah, you’re so cute, saying no but this little cunt is weeping yes. Who am I to deny her, hmm?” 

She’s adamantly shaking her head no, eyes lulling shut and her mouth slacks with a cry, “too much… too much, h. Sensitive, please-”

“Weren’t you begging for it earlier, y/n? M’only giving you what you asked for,”  Harry thinks he could cum just from watching her body tense with unyielding pleasure. Her eyes are rolling into the back of her head and Harry is back to fucking her fast and hard with his fingers while licking and sucking on her nipple, “that’s it. That’s it right there isn’t it, baby? Abusing y’special spot so it’s too much for you, hmm?” 

He’s muffled against her skin and the sound of her wet pussy being penetrated by his fingers is so filthy, his own eyes roll into the back of his head. He takes a deep breath and smells the sex on her, the tanginess of her juices zinging his tastebuds, and god he has to taste her. 

“Yes, yes, please, Harry,” y/n is anguished, heels set firmly so she can meet his hand halfway, and she's so erratic he can’t focus on anything else but the furious pace she’s set. 

“Gonna cum, baby?” Harry groans, moving one of his legs so one of hers is in between his, and the movement of her shin against his crotch makes him pant. Every muscle is tense with a restraint that is slowly melting away. With every rub of her against him- she’s doing it unknowingly, and he’s rutting against her- he’s closer to spurting in his sweatpants. 

“Mhm,” her affirmation drags out into breathless gasps as the weak squeeze unclenches and clenches all over again as another orgasm rolls through her. 

He can’t take it anymore. He removes his hand to give her a chance to recover, takes the hand covered in her cum, and sticks it down his pants. Hissing at the relief he gets from squeezing himself from base to tip has him seeing white. 

“Good girl, baby,” stroking himself, he nuzzles against her chin. He wants to kiss her but he wants to talk them both up into a frenzy. “Took it so well, let me treat y’little pussy right. Does she still want more?” y/n nods, sniffling and scrunching her nose, “you do? Want my mouth or my fingers next, lovie?”

“I want more than that. It’s not… not enough,” she whimpers. 

Harry cocks his head to the side and thrusts into his hand once more before going to touch her again. He’s painfully hard, and the catch of his tip against the terrycloth fabric inside is overstimulating him. “Not enough? I made you come three times and it wasn’t enough?”

“Give me more, Harry, please I-I need it,” y/n angles her hips in his direction again. A thin film of sweat coats her skin, and the baby hairs at her temple are sticking to the skin. Her eyes are red, but she’s not crying anymore, and a line of clear snot trails into her upper lip that she keeps sniffling. She looks thoroughly fucked now before Harry’s even stuck his cock in her. He cleans her face with the edge of a blanket and kisses her under each eye. Before he can right himself again, she pulls him back down by his hair and presses her mouth against his. Little pecks at first, and then she’s licking at the seam of his mouth, all the while Harry just smirks. He doesn’t kiss her back at first, and when she starts to cry about it, he leans in and devours her mouth. 

He’s brutal in his kiss, sticking his tongue in his mouth and knocking his teeth against hers. She tastes sweet, like chocolate and strawberries and weed. Y/n melts against him, opening up her lips to him and licking back like a cat. When they separate, a string of saliva connects their mouths. 

“What do you need? Hmm? Want my mouth and my fingers, too? No?” He hums low, pretending to think of naughty ways to get her off, when in reality, he’s already thought of a million and one, “want to ride one off on my thigh? Rub that wet thing between y’legs all over mine and leave a sticky mess behind? Y’might give y’self a burn, but that’s what you get for poking into something y’should have.”

“No. I’m sorry, H, just please- help me-” she pleads meekly. 

“I want to help y’lovie, but y’gotta tell me because I’m running out of ideas here,” before he can finish her sentence, she makes a frustrated huff and buries her head into his neck. Y/n wraps her leg around his, trying to pull him on her but all she manages is to lift herself up and grind her molten core on the hard ridges of his abs. An absurdly loud moan resonates throughout the room, and Harry groans at the way she ruts into the air, a pull in his abdomen demanding his dick makes contact with something. Her hands find purchase on his shoulders, and Harry has to remain tense while she uses him as leverage to push her hips up so her clit drags against the ridge just below his belly button. He’s being mean, watching her struggle and pant, sweat gathering at her temples and between her tits, but he can’t help but watch her use him. She’s so focused on trying to get herself off, it’s almost like he’s not even there as long as he isn’t moving. 

The way he watches her is so nonchalant, it’s almost as if he’s not a few touches away from cumming himself. He merely smiles lazily at her efforts, mumbling lame encouragement and telling her she was so cute while she puffed and struggled to get herself off. She couldn’t keep herself touching his abdomen for long enough to pick up a pace. When she starts to tire out, her pants turn into frustrated huffs, and her thighs quake from exertion. 

Harry chuckles, “y’need help, baby? Y’were doing just fine before. Didn’t seem to need me then.” 

She sulked, and the expression on her face was only missing the stomping of feet to resemble a tantrum, “You’re being mean!”

“Oh, darling,” he soothed, licking the salty drop of moisture that fell from the side of her eye in frustration. He wanted to keep toying with her until the only word she knew was his name in different volumes and tones, but if his own dick was hurting this badly without an added stimulant, he can’t imagine what she was feeling. He gently kissed her lips and pulled away before her eager tongue made an earnest effort to deepen their connection. “don’t cry.”

“It hurts,” y/n turned her head to the side, into the pillow to cover her face, and mindlessly ran her hands across his shoulders. A smattering of gooseflesh covered her, and for some reason, it softened him. 

“Here, why don’t we try this,” he moves them so swiftly, so she’s on top, her legs on either side of him, her center sitting atop his belly button. Harry decides that he’s going to let her have her fun for a while before taking control. “Better, lovie? Like this?” Her jaw is slack from the contact of the muscular ridges, her clit grazing against the indent of his abs as guided by his hands on her hips, dragging her back and force to set a rhythm. Hurried ah-ah-ah’s are choked out from her, and y/n tries to go faster, her thigh muscles straining against Harry’s grip. And he lets her go. 

With his elbows planted on the bed to support himself, he flexed his core and smirked in satisfaction when she mewled and humped him erratically, muttering that it felt so good, how she was so close. There had never been a time like this before, in which he practiced such restraint, but just gazing at her was enough. He began to pant with a savage abandon, entranced by the bouncing of her tits, the little huffs of breath that interrupted her cries. Precum leaked out of his dick and made a dark sport on the gray fabric of his pants at the feeling of her wet pussy rubbing against him. Using him to get off. This sweet angel who had been scared to look him in the eye at one point, who didn’t know shit about drugs, who had captivated him before he knew her name, was using him to get off. He had never felt so lucky. 

“Go on then, use me,” Harry canted his hips up to press against her as she came down on him, and groaned when the tip of his dick touched her ass. “Give this pussy what it needs, baby. Whatever she wants,” grabbing her thigh, he stroked her, swiping up and down and skating his thumb on the tender skin that wasn’t touching.“Can I rub you right here? She wants me to touch her, will y’let me?”

Nodding fervently, so eager, “Yes, please. Anything you want Harry, need to going to-”

“Cum all over my belly?” Harry suggested, his palm stopping where her thigh meets her hip so that his thumb could reach her clit and swipe against it as she moved. Her hole fluttered against him, and then he felt her start to clench, grasping around nothing as the beginnings of another burst build inside her. His thumb flicked her bundle of nerves faster, rolling longer in bursts of two or three, and then she stilled, her thighs spasming from an orgasm announced by the shout of his name. “Look at you, y’shaking,” he whispered in awe, his hips stuttering when she feebly tried to rock against him while still cumming, “and you still fucking want more.”

“Make it go way, H,” y/n pleaded, her shoulders twitching from the continuation of the orgasm she had previously. The dim lighting in the room makes it hard to see but he doesn’t miss the way she arches her back and pushes her tits out. His mouth waters at the thought of sucking them again, but he wants her to be filthy. As filthy as his thoughts were getting. 

“No.” He says, taking his hand away and watching her pussy shudder against him as he cuts her orgasm short. 

Y/n whines low in her throat and lets her body fall forward. She rests on top of him now, her head by his ear. Her mouth is hot against his ear when she mutters wetly, “please.”

“You’re gonna do what I just did again, and again until it stops,” Harry rubs a hand up her back, through her shoulderblades and up the nape of her neck until his fingers are deep in her hair, and tightens his grip to keep her still from licking his jaw. He yanks her back so her face is a hair away from him, their noses a centimeter from touching, “or until you tell me exactly what you want”

Gulping, her head bobs up and down and her tone becomes pitiful, “Kay. Please.. can you… unbutton your jeans, please?”

“I said y’ have to tell me, not take what you want, y/n.” He feels try to slowly inch forward to kiss him. 

“I know! I know!” Shutting her eyes tightly and whimpering when Harry pulls her back to stop her movements again, her high-pitched tone of voice sounds like music to his ears, “m’gonna go again, I promise, but your buttons are hurting my… butt.” 

There's a beat of silence, and then he kisses her nose. Let's go of her hair, and tucks his hands behind his head like he's kicking back for a fucking vacation and not like if she accidentally touched his cock one more time he would cum. “Y’cute, lovie, go ahead, then. M’only watching this time.”

“S’not fair!” Y/n complained but reluctantly started moving over her own lubrication. Harry was so wet with her arousal that the filthiest suction noises were coming from where their skin touched. The insides of her thighs were hot against him, and he imagined it was from the irritation. Later, he would have to apply the cream to them. But he wasn’t going to touch her then. Not when she was being so bratty after he made her cum several times. 

Cocking an eyebrow, Harry growled “what’s not fair is you ate my sex brownie, y/n, but I’m not complaining, am I? What if I wanted to fuck someone else senseless, eat out their sopping cunt, and have them beg me ‘more, h, s’not enough’? Have them mark me with their cum like you’re doing right now, and play with their clit till they can’t talk properly?” She didn’t like what he had to say“Oh, I see, y’don’t like that, do you, baby? I’m doin’ these things with you, s’not enough?” 

“No!” A warmth spread in Harry’s chest at her disapproval of him doing things to someone else, at the thought that they shared the same possessiveness. 

“What more do you-” she lifts her hip and inches back, and then she pulled his sweatpants down and come down in such a way that her folds were fit snugly against the angry red tip of his cock. He hissed and stilled, “Y/n, what-”

“Want this, h,” y/n whispered and rolled her hips against him. That was all it took. One touch of her pussy on him and hot, thick white ropes of his cum were spurting between them. A long animalistic groan thrummed in his chest, the tightness in his core snapped and so did he. He grabbed her with a curse and held her still as he fucked out his orgasm, his dick sliding between her folds furiously as the orgasm continued like it would never end. Moaning as he watches her bite down on her lip, climbing up on another climax as moisture burst on the length of his cock. She was quivering, grinding against him as much as she could so prettily. His blood was boiling at it felt like he was going to have heatstroke from how warm he was everywhere, but the pleasure was lighting up each of his nerves and he could care less if he died right after. 

“My cock?” He snarled, his lips pulled back so he looked like the animal he was being. Puffs of air were sifting through his nostrils harshly, but he kept dirty talking her. “Y’naughty little thing, lookin’ like a fucking wreck with me sliding in between you like this, fuck, sucking me right in.”

“Feels so good,” y/n panted, her hands on his wrists at her hips. Her touch was featherlight on him, and Harry knew she was getting to the end of the brownies. 

“Does it, baby?” 

“Yeah, you’re so warm, it-it feels really really good,” bits of her words disappeared with gasps that took her oxygen away. She was so flushed, her skin damp with sweat. 

“Is that all you know how to say?” He slows his movements, and instead of moving her over him, Harry thrusts. His member setting a harsh, punishing pace that would have him reaching her g-spot repeatedly if he was inside her.“Or are you just not thinking right because you want me to fuck you so badly?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

“Say it,” snarling, he pistoned up into her, the familiar sensation of a coiling rope building in him once more. The tip of his cock between them was leaking precum, y/n’s pussy dripping creamy slick on him so there was a sopping mess between them. 

“I want you to fuck me, h,” on his name, y/n starts shaking uncontrollably, another orgasm running through her and this one renders her into a sobbing mess. Harry… well he’s moaning without reserve, eyes shut as pleasure overtakes him again. This time he savors it, slowing their bodies down so their sensual touches drag out longer. Low sobs shakes her, and she collapses beside him and starts to curl in on herself from the overwhelming sensations. Harry follows, climbing over her and turning her so she’s facing him and looking her right in the eyes. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you dumb, tonight, sweetheart. Not when you’re already stupid horny from a brownie y’took without permission. Remember what I said? Only good girls get me between their legs. And you were so, so, naughty.” He was pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses below her breasts, peppering them both and tweaking her nipples when they weren’t in his mouth. 

Y/n begins to cry, tears immediately falling at his rejection. Her beginning is desperate, “No. No, h. Please, I’ll do anything. Please, I want-” 

“I know you want to cum. So that’s what I’ll give you. But not with my dick. Gonna eat up all the honey that comes out of this puffy little hole and I don’t care if y’cum so much y’crying because your slit is numb. I’m gonna stop when I want to, understand? Nod if you understand.” She does as he asks, and sniffles. “Good. Now lay down and let me eat.” 

Her back has barely touched the mattress before his mouth is on her, devouring her like it's both the first and last meal he’s ever had. His tongue is hot on her already creamy pussy, and the taste of her has him rutting into the mattress like a fucking animal, fucking down on it like it’s her. He laps at her desperately, ears keenly aware of every moan, squeak, whimper that comes out of her. He fucks into her hole with his tongue, licking her cream before it's even fully out of her, and spitting it back out on her clit. The action makes y/n freeze, and he looks up, momentarily confused thinking that he’s crossed a boundary but…

But y/n’s head is thrown so far back he can count the veins in her neck, and her body is trembling, a restrained garble of words incoherently coming out of her in pants and Harry knows she’s coming. He blows on her clit, allowing his spit and her cum to drip before going back down to slurp at it. He focuses on that little button, suckling at it and flicking it with his tongue. Soon enough, y/n is yelping, her hands in his hair as she tried to wretch him away. It’s finally become too much. 

“Don’t you fucking pull me off, I’m not finished yet,” he momentarily takes his hands off of her thighs and wraps them around her wrist, pressing down on the tendon at the center to wiggle her fingers off his head. He tucks them under her back, and places his mouth on her once more, dark eyes threatening her as he mouths his words on cunt, “Lay down and don’t pull again or I’ll tie y’up.” 

Holding her down firmly, Harry splayed his tongue flat on her and sucks, surprised and pleased by the shriek that escaped her. Y/n is crying, saying she can’t take it, that it was enough, but Harry isn’t listening. He’s so lost in his own pleasure, the arousal he gets from her taste, the sounds she makes because of him, that he’s chasing after his own orgasm by rubbing his cock against the bed. He’s getting frustrated because he wants to get there as soon as she does, and he knows it's gonna be soon with the way she’s throbbing against his lips. 

So he reaches down and squeezes himself in a tight fist, lubrication not necessary because of how slippery he was already. The moment he does, his vision goes white, and there's a spurt of heat below his belly button, and moisture drenching the lower half of his face. 

They lay there heaving briefly, and he becomes aware that she’s no longer awake. Her breathing is stinted with hiccups from leftover sobs, but she’s asleep. The tip of her nose is red, her eyes red-rimmed. He knows she’s going to wake up tired and with a headache tomorrow, but he’ll be there with her. With the corner of a blanket, he cleans them up as much as he can and tosses that soiled sheet away, grabbing a much more clean one and throwing it over them. 

“Night, baby.” He kissed her forehead and tucked his Achilles heel close to his chest, the girl sleeping like a rock in his arms. 

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 2

First Date Jitters

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: theres a date ;) fluff, a little bit of anxiety/self consciousness on readers part. also reader has a quirk that allows them to talk to plants! it's talked about more in the next chapter

Word Count: 1.1k

previous chapter

It was now Saturday, the day of your date with Bakugou - which he told you to call him. He said Dynamight was too professional.

Since he had asked you out, the two of you had talked to each other everyday leading up to today. Sometimes even sending voice memos and photos to each other, which was nice. It was reassuring knowing it was actually him on the other side of the phone and not some random person playing a prank on you.

Currently you were getting ready for the date. He still didn't tell you where he was taking you, but he told you to dress nicely, but not over the top.

Whatever that meant.

As you added the finishing touches to your look, you smoothed down your clothing and looked yourself over in the mirror.

"I think this is okay...right?" You asked yourself.

"Mrow"

You looked at your feet and saw Cheerios standing in between them, looking up at you.

"Oh hey Cheerios!" You said and squatted down to his level, "You admiring me or what? Do I look okay?"

"Mroooww"

You giggled and lightly gripped his tail as he walked away, letting it run through your hand, "Thanks for your help."

Grabbing your phone, you looked at the time and saw that it was almost 5:30 pm, so you decided to wait in the living room until Bakugou told you he was here.

As you sat on the couch you couldn't help but bounce your leg nervously. You weren't so nervous about him being a catfish anymore, right now you were worried about how you looked.

Would he like what he sees? Would you be good enough for him? Oh god what if you get food stuck in your teeth or something. Would he even tell you?!

You didn't know how much time passed while you were wallowing in anxiety, but your phone ringing broke you out of it.

Looking at the caller ID, you saw it was Bakugou.

"Already?!" You cried, quickly composing yourself and answering the phone.

"Hi Bakugou! Are you here already?" You asked in a fake cheery tone.

"Yeah. Your place is the one with the big flower pots outside right?"

"Yep. I'll be out there right now, let me put my shoes on."

"'Kay. Bye."

"Bye!"

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and hastily put your shoes on, making sure to grab your keys.

While leaving you made sure to say bye to Cheerios, who only glanced at you from his spot on top of the couch, and to your plants who also said goodbye.

As soon as you stepped outside you locked your door and turned around to see an all black Camaro, which was probably the latest model. The windows were tinted, so you couldn't really see through them.

You walked towards the car nervously and opened the passenger door, seeing Bakugou in the drivers seat.

"Hi Bakugou, thank you for picking me up." You said as you got into the car.

Seeing him in person was much different than seeing him on TV or in photos. He didn't look bad at all, if anything he looked better. His eyes seemed to be an even brighter red in person.

He shook his head lightly, "'S no problem. You uh, you look really nice." He said quietly.

You smiled. "Thank you. I was worried I didn't dress the part, especially since you didn't tell me where we're going." You said teasingly.

He clicked his tongue and began driving. "I already told ya, it's a secret."

Laughing lightly at his words, you looked him over and his outfit. He had on a black cotton t-shirt tucked into a pair of black dress pants and a belt with a silver buckle. He was also wearing a silver chain and a very expensive looking watch to match.

Now looking at his face, you noticed that his ears were pierced. On his lobes he had diamond earrings, and a little higher up he had a helix piercing.

Cute.

"See something ya like or what?" He asked with a smirk.

Your face went hot, "Uh-sorry. I was just looking at your piercings."

He brought a hand up to his ear, fiddling with the earring. "Huh. I forgot that not everybody knows I have these. I replace them with clear piercings when I'm working."

"How long have you had them?" You asked.

"Since my third year of high school, I think. It's been a while."

The two of you continued to make small talk on the way to...wherever you were going. You were glad that he wasn't hard to talk to, considering the fact that first dates are always a little awkward.

When you finally arrived at your destination, you were expecting to see a restaurant, not a large open field of flowers with some patches of grass.

"Hey Bakugou, where are we?" You asked while looking out at the field.

"It's a flower field. You said you like them, right?" He asked as he began getting out of the car.

"Yeah, I do." You said and followed his actions. "You do realize how suspicious this is right? You're not gonna murder me or something are you?"

He smiled at you as he opened the trunk, "Nah, not until the fifth date." he said jokingly.

You laughed and watched as he lifted a large picnic basket with a folded blanket on top, out of his trunk.

"Do you need help carrying that?" You asked.

"No, just shut the trunk for me will ya?"

You did as he said and followed him into the flower field. He led you to a plain patch of grass near some flowers and began to lay out the blanket.

"A picnic date huh? I didn't peg you as the type."

"I wasn't gonna take you out somewhere with shitty food and shitty people." He sneered and motioned to the spot next to him on the blanket, telling you to sit down.

You sat down and asked, "So if the food you brought isn't shitty, where is it from?"

"I made it all." He said as you two unpacked all of the food. Now on the blanket, there were two bento boxes filled with tonkatsu, tamagoyaki, chicken karaage, and some vegetables.

There was another small box filled with onigiri. Bakugou continued unpacking the basket, handing you a bottle of water.

"Here. If you want something else to drink, I brought some sodas too. I wasn't sure what you'd want..." He trailed off, ears tinted red.

You smiled widely at him. "This is fine. Thank you Bakugou, this is really sweet and the food looks really good!"

The red on ears brightened even more, "Thanks. Just make sure to grab the green bento for yourself. The other one is spicier, since it's mine."

You hummed and grabbed the green bento box.

The date seemed to be going well so far, and you could only hope it'd stay that way.

...

next chapter

authors note

i hope you liked this chapter ! idk why but i think bakugou would be the type to take you on a picnic date, i hope you agree! also sorry for the little cliff hanger tee hee. i'm probably gonna post the next chapter in a day or two so you don't have to wait too long!

taglist: @doumadono @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @lovra974 @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl

those in pink cannot be tagged for some reason!

[cybrs4pphic]

camgirl pt 2!!

camgirl!reader x abby

afab/fem!reader, squirting (:p), full nelson (:0), abby yearns to be inside you, fuckin on the first date, reader has no idea abby knows abt her sex work, kinda awkward first-time sexual tension lol, abby has a fat dick (:D), this is so long???????

18+ mdni (goodbye minors)

it’s the next day and abby is still trying to work up the courage to text you. she doesn’t want to sound boring, but she also doesn’t wanna overdo it. she’s laying in bed, your number typed into the chat, her fingers hovering over the keys.

‘hey, you gave me your number at the coffee shop yesterday and i thought you were really pretty so… i’m abby,’

her thumb was now just hovering over the blue arrow to send the message before hitting it, eventually sending the message. abby immediately shuts her phone off tossing it on the bed trying to find something to distract herself with while she waits.

abby decides to just turn on some show she’s seen a million times. a few hours later you text her back with a ‘hiii abby!! thank u!! sorry, was at work :( i’d love to do somethin w you sometime soon if ur down :p,’

she’s almost, almost, embarrassed at how fast she replies. ‘you’re okay, how was work today? and i’d love to. what did you have in mind?,’

‘well, if u wanted to hangout today, i wouldnt mind just gettin to know you like at mine or somethin, i’ll cook u dinner too whatcha want :3,’

abby’s gonna blow up. ‘i’m not picky, surprise me. and that sounds great, how does 7 sound then?’

‘perfect, i’ll see you soon!’ you send her your address in a separate message with a little heart. abby could actually pass away right now.

2 hours later it’s 7:05 and abby’s standing outside your door, not wearing anything too special— just jeans and a shirt taking a deep breath before knocking. a few second later she hears the door unlocking and opening.

she sees you, looking cute as ever. she then hears the sweetness of your voice inviting her in, abby mustering up a smile through the nerves.

“okay, so, i‘m makin’ chicken alfredo if that works for you?”

“s’perfect,” abby slurs out, practically soaking her underwear watching you cook, mainly your ass in those stupid leggings. is she wearing underwear? floods abby’s thoughts.

“almost done. if you wanna go sit down i’ll get everything ready,” you turn around giving abby a quick smile before returning to your cooking.

abby’s in heaven right now. you sitting across from her, just getting to know each other. finding out you both actually have so much in common makes her feel ecstatic. you guys are having such a good time talking you both nearly forget about the food.

“you’re a great cook,” abby says as you, blushing, take her plate from her placing it in the sink after rinsing it off.

“thank you! tried really hard on this one actually,” you say, giggling. yeah, abby’s obsessed. she needs to be inside you, making you a mess on her cock-

“wanna watch a movie ‘er somethin’?” you interrupt her thoughts.

“what kinda movie?”

“was thinkin’ something scary, if you’re down?”

“works for me,” abby replies, moving to sit next to you on the couch as you scroll through the vast amount of horror movies on whatever streaming app you picked.

“oh! how ‘bout the new texas chainsaw?” you don’t even give abby a chance to reply before you hit play— not like she really cares what you guys watch anyway.

abby has her arm around the back of the couch manspread while you have your knees tucked under you half sitting on your butt half on your heels next to her. within the first five minutes of the movie, she has her arm draped over your side mindlessly drawing patterns into your hips and thighs while you lay on her chest.

you guys get about halfway through the movie before abby breathes out, “hey.”

“yeah?” you reply, picking your head up to meet her eyes.

abby glances at your lips, before asking, “can i kiss you?” to which you just nod a bunch.

abby leans in meeting you halfway to finally kiss you. not long after, she’s grabbing your hips pulling you onto her lap so you’re straddling her, deepening the kiss.

you pull away first, gasping for air. abby’s also gasping for air, but she could kiss you til she passes out, honestly.

“tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” abby breathes out as she toys with the hem of your shirt. you nod as a reply.

“words,” abby says bluntly.

“yes,” you breathe out, still catching your breath. abby wastes no time pulling you out of your shirt and bra before taking her own off.

“god, fuck, c’mere,” she’s pushing your hips up so that your tits are eye level with her before she immediately latches onto your tit. one hand is groping your ass while her other hand is toying with your other nipple. jesus, her hands are so fucking cold you’re practically shaking under her touch.

your hands run down her chest, stopping to play with her tits before sliding down to the button on her jeans.

“take ‘em off,” you whine out. abby happily obliges, gently grabbing u by the hips before laying you down on the couch. she gets up undoing her pants sliding them off. she’s immediately on top of you, thumbs under the waistband of your leggings breathing out a “can i?”

“please,” your voice barely above a whisper, but abby’s already peeling your leggings off realizing you, in fact, were not wearing underwear.

“s’like you wanted to get fucked tonight,” abby lets out a small laugh.

“by you,” you shoot back as you spread your legs in front of her making abby blush as she leans forward to kiss your inner thighs, seeing your glistening cunt clenching around nothing. she starts sucking like she’s about to leave a hickey, making your legs shake from the sensitivity.

“abby, please,” you breathe out.

“please what?

“fuck me, abby, please need to feel you,” you whine out reaching out to wrap your fingers in her hair.

“don’t have a strap, ba-”

“i do,” you cut her off. “come with me,” you pull her up by her hair giving her a quick kiss before getting up, taking abby’s hand, and practically skipping to your bedroom. once you open the door abby immediately recognizes it. your bed in the center of the room against the back wall, a desk across from the bed, probably where you set up your camera. what’s new to her is all the decorations that she didn’t usually see when you were live.

“cute room,” abby states as you’re digging through your closet for a dildo.

“thanks! what kinda cock you want?” you ask her it so casually abby nearly.

“how many do you have?” abby questions you back.

“a bunch,” you giggle.

“what, are you some kind of pornstar?” abby smirks and you can practically hear the smirk in the way she asks the question. you have the dildo in your hand, but you freeze at her question. you know it’s a joke, a rhetorical question, so you just laugh it off bringing her the dick.

“you seem like a fat cock kinda girl,” you smile handing abby the harness and dildo.

“and you seem like you love taking fat cock,” abby fires back sliding the harness up her legs, securing it. “now where were we?” abby says, sliding her hands up your stomach to your breasts watching them spill out from her fingers. you lean up to catch her lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it by tilting your head to the side and allowing abby’s tongue access to your mouth. she’s grabbing your hips and placing you on your bed before attacking your neck and chest with kisses.

“fuck, these tits are perfect,” abby says as she slides two fingers down your cunt, teasing your entrance. “you can take two fingers, right, baby? gotta get you ready for my cock,” you practically moan at her words and she’s barely touching you. is she even real?

“yes, yes! please just touch me, abby,” abby responds by sliding her middle and ring finger into you searching for that soft spot. she’s fucking her fingers back into you,, eventually finding your g-spot, hitting it with the tips of her fingers making you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan.

“found it,” she smirks to herself. she really can’t believe she’s actually touching you right now; this is like a dream come true for her. countless nights of her watching you touch yourself and her finally being the one to make you shake and moan under her touch. she has to fuck you.

“do you have lube?” she asks to which you nod telling her where it is. abby gets up squirting some lube onto the cock you gave her, taking her hand making sure it’s covered.

“are you ready?” she asks looking up at you, her hand still on her cock, stroking it like it’s attached to her. you give her a few eager nods followed by a ‘yes’. abby walks over to you, pushing you on your back before asking if you’re ready again like she’s scared she’s gonna hurt you

“please fuck me, abby,” you get right to the point and abby nods before pushing the dildo into your weeping cunt with her hips. the way you’re gasping and whining just from her putting it in makes abby want to absolutely ruin you. abby needs to fuck you so well every time you touch yourself on camera all you can think of is her.

abby begins rocking her hips back and forth at a pretty slow pace, nearly pulling out completely before pushing herself right back in, where she belongs, you letting out little whimpers every time she pushes back in.

“faster, please, abby,” you whine out as she’s pulling out.

“gladly,” abby takes your legs, throwing them over her shoulders before leaning forward to properly fuck you. abby’s fucking you faster like you requested but it’s still not deep enough for your liking.

“abby abby deeper, please please,” you plead for her.

“can i try somethin’?” abby questions to and you, obviously, tell her yes. before you know it abby’s completely pulled out of you, whining at the empty feeling, before she’s leaning her upper back on the bed frame, patting her lap for you to straddle her.

“face away from me, baby,” abby says.

“what’re you plannin’?” you giggle out, smiling at her.

“‘ts a surprise,” she smiles back before patting her lap again to which you throw a leg over her lap (abby definitely slapped your ass) before settling right in front of the dildo.

“now what?” abby put her feet up on the bed and threads her arms underneath your thighs beginning to pull them up towards your chest.

“relax f’me,” she says quietly from behind you causing you to relax into her hold, your back to her chest. once you’re fully in abby’s grasp, you take her cock sliding it back into you.

“you good?” abby questions to which you nod and abby’s hands snake around the back of your neck, forcing you to watch you take her cock.

before you can comprehend it, abby’s fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. you can feel how tight it is, how deep she is, all of it— you practically feel her in your throat and all you can do is take it and watch.

abby’s grunts mixed with your whines and moans is making abby soak through her fucking underwear

“fuckfuckfuck abby, y’re too deep! please please,”

“you can take it— know you can,” abby replies not letting up on her assault on your cunt. you’re a fucking mess of moans and tears and drool and you can barely handle it when abby’s hand snakes to your clit rubbing it in fast tight circles with her two fingers.

you’re practically fucking sobbing with how she’s stimulating your clit and constantly fucking up into your g-spot. your eyes closes shut as you’re so close to coming.

“eyes open, breathe,”

“can’t— i can’t s’too much, ‘m gonna come,” you’re shocked you can even get out even that much.

“‘m not stoppin’ you,” abby says, not letting up in the slightest. you do your best to keep your breaths steady, but the way your orgasm is building up, it feels different.

“abby… abby abby,” you chant her name, whether it’s a warning or a plea, she doesn’t care. all abby cares about right now is the way her hands and thighs are being soaked right now. your mouth is hanging open in a silent scream just watching the way you gush all over abby’s cock.

“did you just fuckin’ squirt,” abby’s giddy right now.

“are you even human?” you breathe out to which abby just lets out a laugh, releasing you from her grasp causing you to practically collapse on top of her.

“so the answer’s yes,” abby smirks, brushing her fingers gently along the back of your neck, where she knows she definitely put too much pressure on while fucking you.

you feel her slide out of you as you roll onto your stomach eyeing her up and down. you freeze as you hear her say

“i know you’re a camgirl,”

“what?”

pt 3 maybe :3 this is the longest thing ive ever written

[gremlingottoosilly]

Your ride is here (dark!Ghoap x fem!Reader)

CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation I really really adore @ohbo-ohno and @ceilidho for their amazing takes on writing dark fics with Ghoap and fem!Readers Word count: 3794 AO3

You were already way too drunk when you got out of the bar. It was an annoyingly loud party, too many people you never even knew – you thought that it would be nice since it’s a nice bar and not some weird tech music club, but it didn’t really matter in the end. You were still wasted, head spinning around and headache already forming with bile in your throat every time you opened your eyes. Your phone is dead, your brain is barely working, and the only thing you wish to do right now is to curl down in a small ball and cry. 

You barely managed to call for an Uber before your phone blinked one last time and turned off – and judging by the fact that the somewhat kinda, big-ish car was the only one in the dim alleyway, you assumed it was your ride. Hopefully, you’ll get home as soon as possible, get a shower, clear your stomach from alcohol slowly brewing into nausea, and fall asleep. 

You’re far too drunk to notice that the driver didn’t even ask for your name when you got inside. 

— H…hey there. You’re my driver, yea? 

You force the words out of your mouth as you slowly duck your head into the car and settle on the backseat before the guy even says anything. He is pretty, somewhat – a weird fucking haircut for sure, but has a roguish charm of a boy you might meet at the nearest gas station shop. You’re way too buzzed to think of him in any romantic way, but he is nice to look at, and you’re staring to the point of being inappropriate. 

He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up – probably just alcohol working its way up your system. But he looks nice and probably would feel nice in bed, too – he clearly forgot about shaving for a few days, and you almost think about the way it would feel on your face. Or between your legs. Or just right on your…

— Aye, it’s me. 

You can see his cheeks getting flushed as he stares back at you. The situation becomes slightly more weird with each passing moment, but he taps on his phone, probably searching for a map. You turn your head to look at the blurry image – not like you have any knowledge of the area, transferring here for your big girl job and trying to make your way in the city that couldn’t care less about you or your feelings. 

You press your cheek against the car seat, leaning over to help him. 

— It’s on…yeah, um, Maple 37-12. I think I might have typed the address incorrectly on the app. 

— Thank ye, lassie. 

He quickly turns on the map to head over to your house, and you smile, happy about your management skills even as you’re still drunk as hell. You allow your head to fall on the backseat headrest again, closing your eyes just for a second. It’s a long ride home, and you already regret every decision that made you go to this fucking party. 

The driver is chatty. 

Really fucking chatty. 

— So, where do you work? Ye shouldn’t be up in that hour. 

You grumble something in the answer, not wanting to speak too much. Your brain isn’t built for this kind of pressure right now. 

— Yer boyfriend goin’ to pick ye up? 

You slightly wince at the words, another reminder of how utterly alone you were. Of course, if you had a boyfriend or even some close, responsible friends, you would ask them to help you with a ride home – you never trusted public transport at this hour, and uber is often varies between a last resort and a stranger danger on wheels. 

— Don’t have any. 

Your brain is far too drunk to even comprehend why you didn’t just lie that a mysterious boyfriend will meet you. Somehow, the expression of the driver – he called himself Johnny with such a beautiful boyish smile that it made your toes curl – made you feel dizzy and light in the head. God, you don’t want to act like a high school sweetheart, but all of those drinks made you feel lonely. 

— No way. A wee bonnie like ye shouldnae be alone. 

You lick your lips, trying not to sound too miserable. You’re failing. 

— I’m focusing on my career. 

He actually laughs at that, and you feel even more embarrassed. 

— Career? How does that work out for ye? 

You just grumble at the answer, not wanting to bury yourself even deeper. Truth be told, it’s not what you expected when moving to a new city – you don’t know anyone, don’t have any friends here, your life has started from a blank point, and there is really nothing for you to do besides trying to connect with some uptight work buddies in a grimy bar. 

Driver says something else – just general questions, something about the weather. Silly jokes that make you snort and reconsider your sense of humor – he is really nice for a cab driver, and you kinda want to just listen to him talk over and over again. You kinda just want to close your eyes and sleep, but you suddenly realize that you need to charge your phone in order to check the payment – you don’t think you have enough cash in your purse, and you don’t want to make the driver’s life even more miserable. He must be low on money to work at this hour, and you kinda feel bad enough to leave him a big tip after all of this, especially if you would end up throwing up all over his nice, big car. It's suited for some brutal man from war movies, not an Uber driver. 

— Hey, sorry. Can I charge my phone for a bit? 

He smiles even more, getting you the required cable – you plug your phone finally, for the first time in the past few minutes, seeing your home screen again. God, this is late hours – you never got home at this time before. 

The car takes an unexpected turn, and you swing your head to look at the window – you don’t recognize the area. Of course, the road was dark, and you lived far away, but even with your blurry mind and hazy memories of the street you moved to,  you knew this wasn’t right. The driver is nice and all, but you feel like he made a mistake by relying only on Google Maps. You hope he made a genuine mistake, at least. 

— Um, sir? 

— Aye, lassie? 

He looks so innocent it immediately drops you off guard. You lean closer to him, a phone still in your hand – you were trying to refresh the Uber app quite a few times already, but it somehow never showed you the price you were supposed to pay for the trip – and try to sound as chill as possible. No use in making a scene, you both are tired, and he probably wants to get done with you as soon as possible. 

— I think you took a wrong turn. My street should be on the right side. 

— Didnae think I did. 

— What do you mean? My home isn’t…

The app blinks, and you look at it, trying to concentrate on the obscenely bright screen, punishing your eyes for simply having those. You lick your lips, blood running cold. 

You stare at the “Your driver will be here in 5 minutes”. With a description of a car that couldn’t be more different than the car you were in. 

With the driver, whose name wasn’t even remotely “Johnny”. 

***

Soap wasn’t intending to bring a girl home. What he intends is to find a nice chip place near the bar he and Simon used to go to together and then bring something home to eat because, of course, Lt came home before him, and his cooking skills are almost as bad as his jokes. Simon is a mad dog that will probably eat anything provided and isn’t against chewing on his shoes in case of an emergency, but he doesn’t want him to do this off-deployment. 

Johnny literally just wanted to buy some grub, get it home warm, and take off drinking beer and watching some mindless shit on the TV. Preferably with Simon by his side because their relationship cannot be defined by any labels, and he as a nice fucking ass. 

Well, turns out random drunk girls who slammed into his car just when he got the takeout bag securely on the front seat have nice asses too. And Soap can’t think of the last time he had his dick smothered by a woman’s lips and not his fist or, somehow, Simon’s hand. 

You’re pretty, drunk, and kinda dumb – just like he loves them. Silly girl, really, what did you expect when your phone is dead and you have no other means of contacting safety. He saw you approaching the car, not even looking at his plate – you probably wouldn’t remember when he would dump you in the morning. Not that he would, of course, pretty dumb girls like you should be protected, and his job is, well, protection itself –  he can drag you to his and Ghost’s apartment like a trophy in his teeth. 

He licks his lips, enjoying the expression of fear slowly creeping on your face. You’re so drowsy, so adorable, he can’t help but smile widely when you’re panicking. You try to open the door, but, of course, it’s child-locked. Fitting for someone who behaves like one. 

The last time he tried to convince a girl to have a threesome with him and Simon, she preferred to just watch them awkwardly jerk each other off. The last time he tried to convince a guy for a threesome with him and Simon, Johnny spent the whole night in the corner, blue-balled and lonely, as the twink preferred to suck Lt until he’d cum like two times in a row. 

Johnny knows that if he wants a chance for something other than a sloppy seconds, he will have to accept a quick car fuck, possible kidnapping, and forging marriage documents for a pretty girl he just locked in his car because why the hell not, why can’t a handsome Scotsman just kidnap a drunk girl who mistook him for an Uber driver. 

He stops the car in a more or less secluded area – poor bird, you’re still trying to bump your way out of the door with your shoulder, only risking dislocating it. The car was a fucking tank in disguise, the only thing that could survive Ghost’s driving skills – there is no way you would be able to get it to open without the owner wanting you to. Soap licks his lips, turning to you. Hell bells, you look divine. 

Tears in your eyes, panicked expression, hands curling into fists as you’re trying to get out of your personal nightmare, no matter how drunk you are. Poor baby, he really feels bad for you – you’re so sweet, so trusting, there is no way he was the first guy to ever try to harm you like this. Sergeant might like to think of himself as being more or less in touch with normal people, but when he sees a pretty girl in trouble, he wants nothing more but to become her trouble. 

He opens the car just for a second from the driver’s seat – he needs to get to you, after all, just looking at you, trapped in the backseat, won’t be enough for the throbbing erection he has in his pants. You try to fight him as he heavily lingers on you, almost crushing you under his weight. Car isn’t nearly big enough for someone like him to comfortably sit in normal position on top of you, so Johnny uses one hand to drag you back, deeper into the seat, and the other hand – to unbuckle his belt, proving to be fucking beautiful with his fingers. 

You look so pretty, he can’t help but snap a few pictures for the group chat – dumb idea at first, as he thought, but now he can’t wait for the Captain to see what a pretty catch he has on his arms. The last mission was pretty rough, and they all deserve a pretty thing to cover themselves in fear and tremble under them after they fuck her, one after one. Might even bring you to Captain’s house, show you what a good girl you can be for your daddy if given a chance. 

Soap smirks as he drags his hard cock out of his pants. Your eyes are wide in shock – he might not be the biggest of the group, Lt has the crown rightfully and deservingly, but it doesn’t mean that the Scot is small. Thicker than average, leaking pre-cum already – has been since you first got into the car, all cute and disoriented. He had to waste quite a few minutes driving you as far from civilization as possible without alarming your pretty, dazed head about anything – now he can reap his prize. A part of it, anyway. 

You cry and squirm, trying to fight him off when he pushes his hand into your hair and tugs angrily – you’re simply too fucking weak to be a reasonable challenge, so Johnny only laughs when he can put your fight with a single press on your windpipe. You cough, struggling again – soon enough, you learn to just stop and allow him to lead. Good girl, can be trained so well – you’d make a good soldier if you weren’t so pretty and so vulnerable. 

— Don’t make me break yer nose, lassie. Open up, aye? 

He smiles, too warm for the situation – you don’t understand what you did to deserve this, his hand presses your throat in a tight embrace, and you can’t do anything but squirm and try somehow to use your legs to fight – but oh, you’re far too drunk to do this. You whimper, and your head spins and aches with each hiccup, leaving your lips. Such a pathetic sight to see, you could almost feel bile in your throat as he pressed his cock closer to your lips, smearing bitter liquid all over your closed mouth. 

— Pl…please, don’t do this, don’t… what do you want? Money? I will give you money, or my phone, or…

He groans, the waiting time for this pretty girl is far too long already. He doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re too soft for this – a thought of slapping your face lingers in his mind, but ruining your pretty cheeks won’t be efficient in this case. Johnny tugs on your hair, hoping it will be enough to set you straight – he doesn’t want you to pass out from pain, after all. Already too merciful with just using your throat and now that tight ass hiding underneath your dress. 

Your words are slurred, hazed, your tongue can’t move quite right enough – still too drunk, and lack of fresh air only makes you go dumber by each second. Soap only lets go of you when he is sure you’re far too gone to try and bite him – still, he pushes his two hands in your mouth, opening you wide as you gag and cough. 

— Don’t worry yer pretty head ‘bout it. Just take me, and then we’ll go home. 

He will ride you home, make you ride him, and make you some really nice breakfast later. He will carefully wipe away the damp makeup from your face – poor girl, you’re crying too much and ruined all of your hard work on this skin – and send some pretty pictures to the group. But, hey, he can snap a couple right now. 

With one hand still in your mouth, he awkwardly moves his hips so his cock can point right against your lips – and presses down, making you gag more and more as he slowly but surely pushes his cock inside of your tight, warm mouth. God, this is the heavens – he can’t remember the last time he had such an amazing blowjob from such a cutie. Gaz would fucking love you. 

You’re so pretty from this angle, coughing on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks – Johnny tells you to smile for the camera and snaps a couple of pictures. Group chat was an amazing idea, after all – he can’t wait to share some more cute videos once you’ve settled it. The feeling of your warm mouth on his cock is absolutely divine – you’re tight, probably inexperienced, and he relishes in the fact he might be the biggest cock you ever took in your pretty lips. 

You try your hardest to pull away, but he keeps you close, a hand tugs on your hair again, making you cry harder. Soap is so sorry, bonnie, he will make it up to you later – will eat your pretty cunt sloppily, maybe mess with your ass a bit, making sure you’re all wet and open for the members of his team and their members. He snorts at the thought. smiling as you’re still fighting the urge to puke. 

— Like this, aye? Don’t fuckin’ try to bite me, I don’t want to prick yer teeth off. 

Threat lingers in your panicked mind as he drags his hips back before slamming in your mouth again, his balls slapping your chin with an obscene sound. The drool is leaking down your lips, creating a mess on the car seat – it’s not a problem, really, he will clean it later. Maybe would have to change the fabric of the seating for something less damp if he plans to fuck you in the car more. And oh, aren’t they all planning to do this? 

His phone rings when he was least expecting it – skull emoji on the display. No name, no photo – of course. He must have predicted that Lt would like some of the fun beforehand. Well, Soap isn’t the one to hoard every trophy to himself – even if he really wants to be the first with a pretty girl. 

He loves his team – and they will love you as much. 

He picks up with a smug grin on his face, staring at the screen. His moans become louder, grunts that make your cheeks burn as you just know he is faking it for more theatrics – pressing his phone between his cheek and a shoulder, leaving his friend to listen to his pleasure. Licking his lips as Ghost groans, a familiar sound of an unbuckled belt clanging somewhere in the background. You sob, trying to trash out of his hold again – he only presses you deeper, your nose flattening against his pubic bone. 

— Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, Jonny? Simon sounds tired, angry, jealous even – his sergeant smiles wider, slowly removing the phone from under his cheek and going into video call instead – showing your pretty face, all smothered with pre-cum, ruined makeup, and tears. You look so pretty, so perfect, he moves his hips more to remind you to suck on his cock and not just stare at him like a pretty kitten. He loves you like this, of course, but his dick twitches without proper movement, and Johnny was never the one for patience. Only for bombs, maybe. 

Well, you’re a freaking bombshell, aren’t ye. 

— Sorry, Lt. Dumb thing thought I was her ride. 

The other man snorts. They both laugh – a cruel sound, taunting your ears. You whine and cry, feeling the cock in your mouth pulsating. You try to turn away from the camera, but it’s impossible with a hand still pressing down on your head – you can only close your eyes, poor attempt at saving your dignity. God, you feel absolutely trashed. Soap adores that defeated look in your eyes. 

— And you aren’t? 

— Still a better driver than you, sir. But no, not this time. Can give her a ride, though. 

You hate their laughing, hate the way he is gently caressing your head like you’re a threatened animal and not a living, breathing being. He is being soft with you, like he isn’t forcing his way into your mouth – like he isn’t showing your fucked face to his friend. You hate the way your pussy burns, wet from humiliation, and the soft retirement you’re receiving. Bastard isn’t even thinking of your pleasure, and maybe that’s good. You don’t want to like it. 

— Goin’ bring her home? 

— Aye. Would look bloody adorable on our bed. 

They both snort while your blood runs cold. You hoped, you prayed he would let you go after this – traumatized, but mostly alive and well. You have a job, you have a life, and you can’t be fucking “taken home” to some bastard’s bed while he is using you like a sex toy. You try to squeeze your teeth on his dick, maybe do at least something to make him let you go – but Soap strikes your cheek with unknown anger, making you squirm in his grasp. You sob. 

— Don’t break her yet, Johnny. 

— Sorry. Dumb thing tried to bite me. 

— Doesn’t know any better. Gaz had a special muzzle for dumb girls. 

— Too tight for my dick. 

— Bloody hell, Mactavish. Don’t get too cocky. 

— Never intended to, sir. 

He pushes his dick deeper into your mouth. Your cheek burns from the slap, you can almost feel the bruise forming – and the bastard just tugs on your hair, filling your throat with sticky, disgusting cum. You drink it all, no use in trying to choke yourself on his seed when you’re already set in his hold. 

— How is her mouth? 

— Fuckin’ heaven, Lt. 

— I noticed. You finished fast, even for you, Johnny. 

— I’ll try better next time. Maybe get our dollie off after. 

— Selfish, Mactavish. 

— We all deserve to be selfish. 

Soap has the fucking audacity to wipe your mouth after you finish drinking it all, pushing the remaining cum and drool back on your tongue. He gently patted on your head, then made a small apology for being too rough. Was never his intention. 

— Sorry, bonnie. Don’t try to fight again, aye? You’re too tired to answer, and he just cradles your head against his chest. You whimper and cry, pleading senselessly for him to leave you – he only snaps even more photos of your tear-stained face. God, he can’t wait to bring you home. You’ll look heavenly as a fucktoy for the whole team. 

— L..let me…

— Naw, lassie. Shut up and let me take you where you belong. You’ll love it, promise. 

He kisses your forehead before moving to the front seat again. 

You clutch to the seat in silence, bitter taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue. 

[saleeba]

fool ; jude bellingham

summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)

a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)

you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.

on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off. 

it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.

it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.

instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?

no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.

with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person. 

a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.

jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)

jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤

he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad. 

you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.

you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤

you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.

***

and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends. 

as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.

“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.

“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for. 

“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”

the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.

“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”

you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.

he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.

“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”

jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.

“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.” 

this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it. 

you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.

“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words. 

upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.

***

not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.

“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.

the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though. 

“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”

he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.

“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.

instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.

his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other. 

it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel. 

you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.

you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests. 

your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.

you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again. 

the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.

the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.

***

you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude 

you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.

running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.

a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late. 

trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole  – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry. 

“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”

your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”

you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head. 

“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.

you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home. 

“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”

you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.

“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up. 

jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.

he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.

“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision. 

“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.

jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.

he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.

“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.

he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs. 

once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now. 

“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.

“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely. 

he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.

jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy. 

you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s. 

“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.” 

his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release. 

“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,” 

jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste. 

“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”

the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once. 

“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”

jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.

“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions. 

jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.

a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.

“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.

you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.

“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones. 

“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.

a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.  

he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail. 

the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.

after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.

“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.

“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.

“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.” 

you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.

you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.

[camilieroart]

LEO'S GENDER REVEAL

Price comic for winning the first round of @tmntaucompetition !

COLORCODED TMNT ITERATION

WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT ? CHECK IT OUT BELOW :D

When April returned from the bathroom, battle outfit off, and the dreaded fake breasts that started this mess back on, Leo was nowhere to be seen.

It wasn’t really surprising. But it was worrying. The common room was empty of any presence, including the pets. But, there was a trail. From the front door to the corridor that led to the boys’ rooms, discarded battle gear littered the ground.

And April was stressed. When April is stressed, she cleans things. She picked them up and gently put them on a table, folded neatly, separated by colors.

“Leo, come on man ! This is ridiculous, just open the door !”

Anyone who wasn’t used to Raph would think he was angry. The tone was sharp and calm, and the constant pounding of his fist against Leo’s door probably wouldn’t help. But Raph wasn’t mad. No, he was frustrated, and worried.

Leo and Raph always sought each other for comfort, and even when they didn’t, the other would come comfort them.

To Raph, not being able to get into the room and give his twin a hug or distract him from what was bothering him, not being able to make sure he was okay… It was torture.

April wasn’t surprised when she stepped in the corridor, to see Raph’s scrunched up face in worry, constantly fidgeting, scratch marks all over his forearm. He paced in front of Leo’s room, shaking his hands with energy, suddenly stopping to pound on the door some more, and resuming when he doesn’t get an answer.

Casey, Donnie and Mikey were sitting next to the door, while Meets leaned against the opposite wall. Splinter was with them, quietly catching up on what happened and why they had to cancel patrol for the night.

Donnie was tapping away on his phone, clearly opening and closing the same app over and over again. Mikey was leaning against him, struggling to keep his eyes open, but doing his best to jolt awake whenever his eyelids dropped too low. Casey leaned on the wall on the other side, occasionally whispering something to him that Donnie would answer just as low.

April went to Raph.

“I’m surprised you haven’t kicked the door down yet. I’d thought you would all be inside.”

“We would,” Answered Donnie, effectively jolting Mikey awake for the 5th time, “but when we tried to get in, he threw pillows at us until we were far enough for him to lock the door.”

‘Plus, we don’t want Donnie to be the one that has to fix the door later’ Supplied Meets.

“But why isn’t he answering ? He should at least be answering, right ? What if he hurt himself ? We should go in-”

April slowly crept even closer to Raph, who couldn’t get his eyes off the door. She reached out to his fidgeting hands but stopped an inch or two before touching. Without sparing a glance, Raph breached the gap and held her hands tight.

“He should have answered. Why isn’t he answering, Pril ?”

His hands were a bit awkward to hold onto, as he had now started to bounce on his heels, unable to keep still until he was able to check on his twin.

Raph finally looked at her and she sighed.

She gently rubbed his hands in a slow circle motion.

“Let me try, okay ?”

Still holding one of his hand to anchor him -despite the bouncing-, April knocked on Leo’s door.

“Hey, Leo ? It’s April, can I come in ?”

“...”

“Just me, Lee. Just me.”

A beat passed, and the faintest of click resonated in the quiet corridor. Raph instinctively rushed forward, but Splinter put a soft hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

“If Leonardo wants to see just April, my son, let him see just her for now.”

“But… Dad, he’s-”

“He’s confused and hurting and needs someone, and that someone is April. Once he feels better, we’ll all be able to see him, is that okay ?”

Raph looked over to the slightly open door, then to April that had still yet to let go of his hand. He reached over with his free hand to his forearm but Splinter gently took it before he could scratch himself. His dad offered a soft smile, gently patting his hand.

Raph let the tension leave his body, sagging like a rag doll.

“Fine, yeah...”

April gave a smile of her own and after one last squeeze, entered Leo’s room, closing the door behind her.

The room was a mess. It was already a wonder she was able to see it’s mess, considering how dark it was. The only light was coming from under the door, and some blue fairy lights she didn’t think Leo knew how to turn off.

The room was filled with destroyed wigs that she had never seen before, but that were probably gorgeous before they were ripped apart, dresses that came straight from a designer closet, with some intricate patterns and embroideries that must have taken hours to make now gone to rags thanks to some randomly placed scissors cut.

Makeup stained the floors, a lipstick that was crushed by someone’s heel, a powder that spilled all over the carpet…

April cautiously stepped around the mess, sitting on the bed next to a curled up Leonardo relatively unscathed.

He hadn’t even looked up, didn’t bother twitching as she sat beside him.

“What’s all this ?”

April worried for a moment, that she shouldn’t have spoken. Maybe all he wanted was some company, not to talk about it. As the seconds passed and no answer came, but Leo didn’t kick her out, she relaxed, gently leaning onto him. If he just wanted company, then she’d give him that.

“I don’t know. My inner girl that was trying to come out before I knew it I guess.”

Leo had looked up to the mess, his snout still buried in his arms, the slightest hint of eyes shiny from tears peeking out. April didn’t know what to say to that. She never really saw Leo wearing any of these, none of his usual dresses were in the mix. He seemed mad at something he did, but that was something she didn’t know about.

But she did come here to help, and if Leo was engaging, maybe he wanted an answer ? What answer could she give ?

“Ooooookay ?”

“I’m not a girl.”

Well, that seemed to work.

“No, you’re not.”

Finally, he looked at her, and April couldn’t help thinking about how his twin acted exactly the same only moments prior.

She smiled, gently pulling him closer to her until his cheek was almost squashed against her knees. Her big brother had always loved tight physical affection, and this time was no different as he instantly relaxed against her.

“You’re a boy, always been a boy. You’re Leo, you use he/him pronouns, and you say you’re a boy. So you are. You just… happened to be a boy without the dangly bits.”

The turtle let out a dry snicker, amused by her synonym. She couldn’t see the bottom of his face yet, as his eyes that had a spark of amusement dulled again, but she hoped he smiled, at least a little.

“I-it’s not the same.”

“Okay. Do you think I’m less of a girl because I do have dangly bits ?”

“What ? No ! Of course not !”

“Then why do you think you’re less of a boy than you were yesterday ?”

Leonardo grows quiet at that. His defensive position was gone, and he was playing with one of her sleeves, his eyes drifting somewhere else as he thought of the answer. April was rubbing slow circles on his shell, chin resting on top of his head, patiently waiting.

He already seemed less distressed than before. Talking about it, putting it into words, and more importantly, having his gender reaffirmed were some important steps to take. She knew he picked her specifically to take these steps because her experience was probably the closest to his, even if it wasn’t exactly the same.

“I thought… I thought I was… normal. I guess.”

April froze, and pushed him away just enough to look at him dead in the eyes.

“Leo. I love you, you’re my brother. But there’s nothing normal about you.”

He blinked a few times, and then realization and frustration fell on his face. He threw his hands in the air in such a childish way April couldn’t contain the giggles that bubbled up.

“I know, it’s not that ! It’s- UGH ! I don’t know how to explain it.”

He crossed his arms and pouted and April pulled him back into the side hug. Quickly, his tension left and he melted like he always did when presented with physical affection.

Leo was quiet for a bit longer than before, thinking, trying to put words into his feelings, and April was happy to let him do so. The silence was familiar, comfortable, and more at ease. Not still quite relaxed, but close to it. They weren’t far to breaking down the last point Leo felt uncomfortable with.

Although it’d be better if done quickly, as she could see that Raph pacing had resumed, and were getting more frantic the longer they were in there without any information given to the outside.

Oh Leo was not getting out of Raph’s hug.

“I’m not- I’m not trans.”

It was quiet, almost muttered, and if the room was completely silent, April would have missed it. Like he was embarrassed, or ashamed to say it. Or he was scared of the answer.

“Of course you aren’t.”

He glanced up at her, eyes big and wide and confused. Like it wasn’t a possibility. Like he was doomed with a label that felt bad and uncomfortable.

“I’m not…?”

“If you don’t want to be trans, Leo, then you’re not. It’s not as complicated as everyone makes it out to be. They’re just words. If you don’t want that label, then it’s not yours. Cis Leonardo who happens to not have dangly bits, why not !”

The turtle contemplated that for a minute, letting the words sink in.

“So… I’m not trans.”

“Do you want to be ?”

“No ! I-I mean… no. No. I don’t want to.”

“It all comes down to this you know. Everything. What do you want to do, or be ? As long as it doesn’t hurt you or others, you can do anything. You can be a vigilante. You can make art on walls, you can dress funny in public, carry a plushie… Does it hurt you or someone else ? No ? Then who cares.”

They sat in silence a little bit longer, enjoying each other presence.

The last of the tension had left, and April could already feel Leo preparing to face the rest of the family, whether it’d be from the quick glance at the door, or the occasional twitch, like he was about to move but decided against it at the last second.

The turtle was fully pressed against her, soaking in the physical affection, taking it in and changing it into bravery to answer the questions of his siblings and explain how he felt about it.

April was happy to provide.

[spiderlyla]

request for fluff-tober!

reader learning spanish behind miguel's back using an app.

he finds out one day when he comes home early and was surprised to hear a male voice talking in spanish, coming from the bedroom. immediately, rage filled him and he burst inside the room, startling reader who was using duolingo on the computer. reader is startled and tries to hide to keep the surprise, but it's too late.

eventually miguel questions them and learns that reader has been trying to learn spanish for a month now, so they could understand miguel better. also, so they wouldn't have to 'annoy' him by asking him to translate whenever he talks in spanish.

it ends with miguel teaching reader alongside them using the learning app :D he'll find it so adorable even if reader speaks in broken beginner spanish.

Day 6 of Flufftober

synopsis: your secret is out.

lumi's note: thank you, anon for this really cute request! this is actually the first request I've written for fluff-tober out of all of them.

pairing: gn!reader × miguel o'hara

Guilt was enveloping Miguel from the inside out for the past two weeks.

Work has been extremly hectic for the past month, but since the holidays were coming up, everyone was trying to rush their work so they could be able to spend the holidays at their universe's. Coincidentally, there have been alot of breachs in the multiverse, multiple anomalies showing up where they shouldn't be, and of course, with Miguel being the leader of the spider-society, alot of the work load fell on his shoulders.

He hasn't returned home in days, and when he did, he'd always find you fast asleep. It filled him with immense guilt that he was neglecting you for so long.

So today, he came home earlier than he usually would—much earlier. Early enough for you you have just returned home from work. He passed by a nearby flower shop to get you a nice bouquet of your favourite flowers, he couldn't walk in empty handed after all. He had a few plans for you this evening, maybe he'll cook you dinner, and you'll spend the rest of the evening making dessert together.

The walk home wasn't long, especially since he swung there, landing on your balcony. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, making sure he looked good in the reflection. His under eyes were a little darker than before, but other than that, nothing changed all that much.

He slid the door open and stepped inside, noticing how queit the apartment was. Weird, he thought, he did see your car parked on the street, and it was still warm when he passed by it. There was a faint smell of spices, something with curry? His eyes spotted your keys and phone on the table near the front door, your shoes tucked neatly to the side, with a little bit of mud sticking to the bottom of it.

So you are home.

He looked around, you weren't in the living room nor were you in the kitchen, which was odd, you usually liked to relax by the TV while eating.

He turned around, going to look for you in the bathroom, when he heard it. A hushed, baritone voice, that of a man speaking spanish.

In your bedroom.

Miguel's limbs froze, but he could physically feel an extreme pressure on his chest, his heart racing as he listened in to what he told you.

"Te quiero a ti, no a otro." [I want you, not anybody else.]

A pit formed in his stomach, his legs felt heavy when he tried to move them. There was a man, in his bedroom, talking in spanish for his partner, telling them how much he wants them.

Anger seeped theough every fiber of his being when he heard him repeat it, 'Te quiero a ti, no a otro.' but when he heard your voice, struggling to repeat what he said, he felt his entire being go numb before all that anger gave him the energy to move towards the door and push it open.

The door flew open, the handle coming off in Miguel's fist from how tightly he gripped it, his eyes fell on you, you wore one of Miguel's shirts, your plate of rice and curry set to the side on the desk, while you sat infront of your laptop.

"Mig!—Shit, honey, you scared me!" You exclaimed, looking rather startled. Miguel glanced around, eyebrows furrowed so hard it brought him a little headache. The bed was made, there was no trace of anybody being inside but you. Your feet carried you to where he stood, and you tip-toed, cupping his cheeks in your hands while his maroon eyes scanned the room once more.

"Are you okay, baby? Is something wrong?" Your fingertips felt wonderful on his skin, he could smell the scent of your bodywash, the arouma of your shampoo. It calmed his fried nerves and racing thoughts a little bit. "There was...someone speaking." He mumbled, putting a hand on the one resting on his cheek. "A man."

"Hm?" You then noticed his shifty glances, the way he tensed up when he said those words. Miguel couldn't feel the presence of anyone else in the room but the two of you, maybe the lack of his spider senses were the reason. "There is no one but me, honey. Calm down, it's okay." You seemed to be hiding something still, you've been alarmed ever since he entered the room.

"I know, amor." He mumbled, "But I'm sure I heard a man speaking. He was speaking spanish." When he looked back at you, your face had flushed with colour. His eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched, that couldn't be someone on the phone, right?

"Oh, um, well, I wanted this to be a surprise, but..." You intertwined your fingers with him, and led him to where you were previously sitting. You pointed at the screen of your computer, where a cartoonish man was standing next to a woman, holding hands. The words were scrambled, and there was a line at the bottom of the page, to assemble the sentence correctly. You leaned over the seat and clicked the little speaker icon, and that baritone voice erupted out of the computer, repeating the same words Miguel had heard earlier.

"Oh." His featured relaxed a little, while his ears and neck turned a dark shade of red. "What did you think was going on, Miggy?" You wiggled your eyebrows teasingly at him, but he kept his composure, trying to deflect the embaressing situation he put himself in. "You're learning Spanish?"

Now you were the one blushing, a little embarrassed. "Yeah, have been for the past month."

"Why?"

You fiddled with your fingers for a moment, before answering him. "For you. It must be more comfortable for you to speak in spanish, I want to understand you better, and I don't want you to keep translating everything you say to me, I figured how annoying that must be for you. I wanted it to be a surprise too..."

Miguel's previously sour expression softened at your confession. None of his previous partners had even tried to do that for him, but here you were, going the extra mile just to simply make him feel comfortable.

His big palm cupped your cheek, he leaned down to kiss your forehead, "You're too sweet." He chuckled, "But it's not annoying to translate, no, and I'm glad you're trying, mi sol." He put down the flowers on the desk, "Though, you should've asked me to help, I'm sure I'm more knowledgeable than this stupid bird app you're using."

You giggled, holding onto him. "I'm sure you are, honey, but you didn't have time, so I thought maybe I shouldn't ask."

"I'll make time." He spoke nonchalantly, pulling a chair beside you and sitting down. You raised your brows, but sat down on your own chair. "Now, show me how would you say that sentence."

You looked at the screen for a moment, then turned to Miguel, "T-Te qui-ero a ti, no a o-tro." Your visible cringing at the way you spoke evoked a chuckle out of Miguel, but he did not mock you. "No, baby, you have to roll your r's a little. And don't be afraid to speak, we're learning, aren't we?" You nodded, leaning forward. "Can you say it, Mig?"

"Of course," He leaned forward a little, so close to you that your noses almost bumped. He paused for a minute, crimson eyes trailing on your lips for a split second. "Te quiero a ti, no a otro." His pronunciation made it sound like a completely different sentence, or maybe it was the way he said it, his voice low, his eyes boring into your own. He brushed his lips against yours, and you let out a gasp. "Well, go on, amor.." He hummed queitly. You let out a broken sigh, speaking right before you pressed your lips on his.

"Yo también te quiero" [I want you too]

🏷: @lizard757 @thevoiceinyourheadx @lulu-baked-beans @obi-mom-kenobi @bibikaiherau @thechloralkatniss-blog @sukunamoon @crazy-ravioli @autismsupermusicalassassin @dangerousness15 @dumb-gemini12 @telefood @unear7hly @deffnotnia @ginger23 @vicravluv @sakinetic @longer-than-i-should-admit @dbiebxiwns @sweetlemongrove @currentlyinflames @minalovesyoubabes

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@heyohalie @johfaam @bubbsieeee @iite-cool @oharasmommymilkers00 @mousettea @jokmi @nayylas @namjoons-baby @liviiyyy @viriexo @vermillions @deltaworkwarmpepsi @number1gal @swiftyangx12 @millswifeyofkeigo @library-lunatic @zayai @amelialysm @jennwithobsessions @lovleystarfish @funhour @gracielukey @mazda99 @reabrigando @syd-vixious @sweetsonyangel

@kksverse @perrierbottleofproblems @motherfuckergentleman @lavielenrose

[queenpiranhadon]

ᴅᴀʏ ꜱɪx: April 19th

Syn: You make the cake and decorate for the party.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

A/N: I'm actually really happy about how this event turned out- all the fics written in this collaboration can be read separately, but it's recommended you read them all in order :) The master list is here, go check out the other writers because they're so amazing and talented AUGH.

Warning(s): Cursing (it's Katsuki what are you gonna do), bad baking terminology, maybe ooc idk, reader is referred to as female like once- Kiri calls her ma'am, reader compliments Katsuki's ass lmao, just fluffy in general though, class 3-A, reader is in the hero course.

This was it. Tomorrow, your plan would finally be put in motion.  

It was the 19th of April, and to say the very least, you were stressed.  

Stressed might not be the word for it. More like anxiety, excitement and fear into one overwhelming emotion that you couldn't convey into words. Tomorrow was Katsuki’s 18th birthday. And everything had to be perfect.  

You sat in your dorm room, thumbing the pages of the cookbook you so loving made him, picturing his own rough hands touching the book the same way when you gave it to him. Your heart warmed at the thought- your boyfriend never ceased to give you butterflies, even without intending to.  

Doubt plagued your mind however- what if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too dumb, or too simple- should you have done more?!  

No, you scold yourself. You needed to trust yourself. You knew Katsuki well- he excelled in the extravagant, but he still found joy in the smaller things.  

Still... you couldn’t help but worry. This would be a big day for him-a huge milestone. You didn’t want to mess it up.  

Setting the cookbook down, you finally place it into the bag you had for him, jet black with orange stuffing. The small action put the whole situation into perspective for you.  

This was finally happening. 

But you still had work to do today. Pulling out your phone, you open the messaging app, and click on the contact you needed.  

You: Mission Keep Katsuki Away is a go >:) 

Kiri🥊: Yes ma’am >:)) 

Turning off your phone, you pocket it, and leave your dorm room. All that was left to do was the cake.  

After slaving through the school day, you all return to your dorms, with the exception of Kirishima and Katsuki, the former dragging the latter away for something he called “a bro date”. You chuckled at his excuse, and left them to their own devices as you returned to Heights Alliance, sending a text to Kirishima as you walked.  

You: Hey! What’s your status? 

Kiri 🥊: Just got to the bus! I’ll keep him busy as long as I can 

You: Perfect!! 

You: Thank you so much again 

Kiri 🥊: No problem! He’s going to love it, you put so much work into making this special for him :D 

You: Aww...thanks Kiri! Fingers crossed 😭 

You weren’t terrible at baking per se, but you weren’t no Sato. And you would ask him to make the cake himself, but you didn’t want to ask too much of anyone.  

So it was up to you. You wanted to make a small two-tiered cake, it would be enough to feed all of 3-A and hopefully there would be leftovers.  

Sifting through the pantry you found what you needed one by one. Cocoa powder, dark cocoa powder, eggs, milk, butter, flour, baking soda, the list went on. You were making a chocolate cake, covered in dark chocolate ganache, drizzled with caramel. Katsuki wasn’t a big fan of sweets, and you knew that, but cake was cake. You also knew that he secretly did have a sweet tooth so he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully the bitterness of the dark chocolate would make the rest of the cake a little less sweet to align with the explosive blond’s tastes.  

Grabbing three large bowls and the mixer Sato let you borrow, you get to work, mixing wet and dry ingredients separately, cracking eggs, melting chocolate, and whisking like your life depended on it.  

While you baked, you popped in an earbud, sweet music, lifting your mood and dancing around the kitchen, in your own world.  

And hour later, the two tiers of the cake were in the oven, (not before tasting the batter yourself of course) and you look around at the kitchen, the adrenaline rushing out of you. It was a mess. The was flour in your hair, on your face, and you’re pretty sure the cocoa powder on your shirt is going to stain.  

You sigh, taking off your earbuds and pausing the music from your phone. At least the cake was done.  

Grabbing the cleaning supplies from the closet, you get to work, making sure the kitchen was spotless so no one (namely Katsuki, for obviously reasons, and Ochaco and the self-proclaimed Bakusquad because they would beg you to have a taste of their own) would know what you were up to.  

The cakes were done by the time you finished, taking them out of the oven and sealing the two layers together with some ganache.  

You had asked Mr. Aizawa to reserve Gym Gamma for you previously, getting his permission to decorate the space for the party, and so you made your way there now, deciding to decorate the cake in the Gym itself so you wouldn’t have to move it afterwards.  

You got Ochako to float the cake and the toppings for it to the gym itself, so in the meantime, you busied yourself with setting up all the food- something you didn’t want to do yesterday as it would’ve gone stale.

You recruited the help of Kaminari, Sero, Mina and Kyoka to help you carry everything- including the mini fridge you saved up to buy to store the food and drinks overnight. You’d take them out the next morning.

When you got there, you were surprised to see Midoriya, Todoroki, Tsu, Iida, and Momo there alongside Ochako who explained they all wanted to help. 

You feel your smile stretch across your face, happy to see so many people who wanted to give Katsuki the best birthday ever.  

Splitting up the work, Midoriya, Todoroki and Iida went to go find the plates, cups, bowls, and cutlery you bought with Mitsuki - something you thought may have been overkill, but she had planned everything down to a T.

The others flitted around, either helping to put food or drink items into the fridge, or checking to make sure nothing happened to the decorations overnight.

You took to decorating the cake. Pouring the ganache over the first tier, you used it as an adhesive of sorts and you lifted the second layer on top of it. Once you did that, you poured the remaining ganache over the entire cake, evenly, so it created a pretty coat on top that you were sure it would add a nice crunch to the cake itself.

You groaned, stabbing your spatula into the quickly hardening ganache, having to ask Todoroki to heat it up every few minutes so that it wouldn’t harden completely- an annoyingly tedious task, but you knew Katsuki hated the taste of frosting- so hopefully he would appreciate the favor.

You waited for it to harden, then adding drizzles of caramel everywhere, and strategically placing strawberries where you could for a refreshing change in flavor.

And then lastly, adding thin golden candles to the cake, ten on the bottom row, and seven on the top. Momo created a special candle shaped like one of his gauntlets that you put in the center of the circle of seven candles on the top. And finally, you were done.

Momo made another contraption for you, a tall glass dome with temperature settings that you would put on the cake to prevent the strawberry from going bad overnight. After setting the cake on its stand, you put the dome over it, thanking Momo for her help.

It was then when you received two texts.

You open the first one, snorting when you read what it has to say.  

Katsu 💥🧡: Oi, I know you’re up to something- Shitty Hair just dragged me to the damn movie theater to watch some stupid Crimson Riot movie. 

You: Aww it couldn’t have been that bad!! 

You: Can’t the all mighty Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight survive a short movie date? 

You: Plus I told you- I'm not up to anything lmao 

Katsu 💥🧡: I call bullshit 

Katsu 💥🧡: Plus that movie was three damn hours- short my ass 

You: To be fair, you do have a nice ass 

You: I KID I KID  

You: But I promise you’ll get extra cuddles when you get back my big baby 

Katsu 💥🧡: Fuck off 

Katsu 💥🧡: Meet me at my dorm after dinner

Katsu 💥🧡: And don’t think I’m letting at comment about my ass go 

You can’t stop the amused smile from spreading across your face as you check the other text message, one from Kirishima this time.  

Kiri 🥊: Hey! We’re about 15 minutes away- we'll be back around 18:32 PM 

You: Kiri jesus christ- you tell me this now?! 

Kiri: Sorry!! 

You put your phone down, yelling at everyone to finish up and get back to the dorms as soon as possible, people scrambling around to put the finishing touches together before bolting out of the gym, you along with them.  

Thankfully, you all made it back in time, flopping down on the couches just at the door opens to reveal a beaming Kirishima and a grumpy Katsuki.  

The latter raises an eyebrow at all of you, sending a narrow-eyed glare at you. 

“Why’re ya so outta breath?” He grunts suspiciously and you chuckle sheepishly in return.  

“Mina challenged Kaminari and Sero to go a piggyback race against Todoroki and Iida.” You laugh, the lie rolling off your tongue as the others nod in agreement. 

“We totally won.” Sero says smugly, and Todoroki sends him a confused look.  

“But-”  

Kaminari cuts him off, slinging his arm around the heterochromatic eyed boy nonchalantly. “It’s not winning if you use your quirk Todo-bro.” 

Katsuki rolls his eyes, all interest in the conversation out the window, as he starts making dinner for everyone, something he started doing a while ago when he lost faith in 3-A's ability to not burn the kitchen down.  

After you all settled down and ate, you and Katsuki returned to his room, making yourself comfortable in his bed as he joins you, pulling you close and letting his sore muscles melt into your embrace.  

You, however, couldn’t force yourself to relax, your body buzzing with excitement as tomorrow would arrive.  

Taglist ~

@gina239 @azzo0 @slayfics @zanarkandskylines @cashmoneyyysstuff

@xbabyd0lli3x @lowkeyremi @starieq @angels-fantasy

@ah-mya @food8me @katsuisbaby @meowze4r @bigsimpo343

@seonne @wheezdostuff @berryvioo @icedemon1314 @mystic60

@kit-katsukii @stoned-anime-babe @kukikoooo

@le000xxgrd @tr-mha-fan

[kentosovertime]

(adj.) deadly, destructive

➳ yandere best friend!yuta x afab!reader - 1.5k

➳ a/n: straight up brain rot- i just know this man is unhinged

➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, emotional manipulation, yandere themes, catfishing, friend zone, degradation, praise, pet names

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box | AO3 | Ko-Fi✨

Fat, ugly tears soak into Yuta’s white sweater as he wipes the wetness from your cheek while he rubs your back comfortingly with his free hand. 

“It’s gonna be ok, hun…” He coos with a warm hum that feels like home. It’s why you begged him to pick you up from the date you were stood up on and ghosted after months of talking. 

“N-n-no its n-not.” You sob into the pillow that you’ve curled around, clutching the fabric until your knuckles blanche in color. “I feel so fucking stupid!”

“What’s wrong?” He pretends to sound clueless, like he’s concerned about something you’re not telling him. “You still haven’t told me why you were at that coffee shop…”

“T-that guy I told you a-about-” Your breath shutters out of you, making it impossible to force words out for a second. “It w-was a d-date and h-he didn’t show up. I’m blocked on everything n-now.”

“The guy from the dating app?” He makes a show of furrowing his eyebrows in concern, frowning deeper when you nod your head into the pillow, sobbing even harder now. 

“Feel s’dirty and used… what’s w-wrong with me, Yu?” You want to crawl out of your skin, you feel so nauseous thinking about how close you had gotten to this guy, how much you had confided in him. “Why can’t all men be like you?”

“Oh hun…” You allow him to tilt you towards him as he settles on the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms as he gently shushes you. “Come ‘ere, baby.” 

His arms wrap around your body and settle you in his lap, sighing contently as you nuzzle into his neck, basking in the warmth and support he always provides you. Once you’re settled into him, even as your cries continue, he finally allows himself a satisfied grin that his plan is going better than he thought. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

His jaw clenches as he watches you from across campus, seeing you giggling loudly with yet another frat boy fuck ass who’s only with you to get his dick wet. You deserve someone who puts you first, who cares about you more than anyone else; someone like him. 

That night he’s decided he’s had enough of being the afterthought when he deserves you more than these boys who break your too soft heart.  One more terrible heartbreak would certainly break you enough for him to make a move. It's just one more… then you’ll never have to go through it again. 

That’s how he justifies opening his phone to download the dating app he knows you use the most, making a profile after he pays one of the men desperate for cash on campus to use his photos and have him facetime you a couple times to make it more believable. 

It doesn’t take long for you to match the profile or for Yuta to use the knowledge he has as your best friend to concoct the lies that would hook you fastest. The imposter he created enjoys all the same things as you, understands your problems, and supports you when you’re down. 

It’s almost pathetic how quickly you fall for him, folding after a couple months of talking when Yuta decides to be selfish and asks you for a video of you playing with yourself. Yuta digs his teeth into his bottom lip, stifling a guttural groan at the first sight of your finger spreading yourself open for the camera, teasing your clit before you burrow your middle and ring fingers into your cunt. You little pleading moan for him to send something in return so you can picture it while you fuck your fingers into yourself. 

Yuta seethed with jealousy, even if it was his cock you came to when he sent you a video back. You didn’t know it was him, you didn’t love him. It made him so angry that you refused to see what was right in front of you. 

Whenever you hang out with him, you gush about this guy that you met that was so much different from the shit bags you normally gravitate to. And Yuta would smile, listening to you describe everything about him except how you sent him to the dirtiest little clips while he glanced at your hand, itching for you to sink those fingers into yourself again so he can suck them clean. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Your sobs slowly calm with Yuta’s warmth sinking into your bones. Only small hiccups echo in the room as you feel him leave small kisses across your shoulder. 

His touch isn’t unfamiliar but this specific action is, he was normally so reserved with you, but you shiver as those comforting presses of his mouth on your skin, his breath skating across the surface, serving to fill the void left by a man you thought you could love. 

The low, desperate rumble that sounds from his throat has your eyes fluttering and goosebumps running down your skin. The kisses slowly turn wetter, sloppier as he lays one just below your ear, his tongue peaking out to lap at the skin there. 

“Yu…” Your voice cracks, pleading, as your head tilts to the side, giving him more room to continue his actions. “M-make it stop h-hurting… please.” 

“I don’t know what else to do, hun…” He almost can’t hold the condescending coo from his tone. Fuck he wants to hear you say it. He’s waited so long for the words to fall from your lips. 

“I… Can you…” You hiccup in embarrassment, burrowing into his neck as you grip his shirt as tight as you did the pillow earlier. “I w-want you to fuck me, Yu.” 

“A-are you sure…? I don’t want you to regret it later.” His eagerness is only betrayed by his fingers digging into your hips as an anchor. He needs you to know he’s going to care about you more than anyone, that he isn’t the frat trash you soil yourself with.

“Y-yes… but if you don’t want to- Yu!” You squeak, your eyes widening when your back hits the couch cushion and he settles between your thighs, his hardness already pressing against the fabric of your panties under your skirt you wore especially for your date. 

“Don’t want to?” He growls, pushing the fabric of the skirt to pull around your hips, reaching between you to rip the seam of your pretty lace panties you wore for the imposter he created. 

He deftly flicks the button of his jeans, pushing them along with his boxers to his mid thigh, entering you in a rush movement before you can decide you don’t want him. 

“Oh fuck, Yu-” You moan loudly, your sobs turning to those of pleasure as he sets a brutual pace, taking out all his frustration, anger, and jealousy on you. 

He grits his teeth, carelessly shoving his hand under your shirt to grope your breasts, gripping onto them to hold you in place, using it for leverage to drill into you harder.

“Finally woke the fuck up and realized I’m right here?” He hiss as you flutter around him, your cunt making a white ring around his cock as he fucks you raw. His brutal pace is matched by the demeaning tone. “So nice to be your second choice, you know? Stringing me along like a needy slut?” 

You jolt in shock, the rough treatment only serving to make you clench down on him harder, teetering on the edge.

“S’not like t-that Yu-” You whine, clawing at his chest through his shirt. “I’m s-sorry, I d-didn’t m-mean it like that- M’sorry ‘made you wait!”

He grins ferally at you folding so easily for him, ready to finally force the final blow.  

“Really, hun?” He reaches a hand to your clit, circling it slow enough to drive you crazy, keeping you right at the edge of your orgasm without giving you that last push. “Fuck toys don’t get to cum… only girlfriends do. Are you my perfect little girlfriend? Or a useless fucking cum dump?” 

“Girlfriend!” You shriek as he immediately applies more pressure, his thrusts stuttering a little. You’d give him anything to cum. “I’ll b-be yours ple-” 

Your back arches off the bed as you explode into a thousand little pieces, coming hard enough for your vision to go fuzzy, mewling when you feel Yuta still after pressing deep inside of you. His cum spills from your abused cunt, spilling out from around him to drip down onto the couch. 

“Good fucking girl, hun. Fuck-” The praise makes you tremble and cling to him and he knows breaking your heart was worth the pain.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210 @rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems @tsukikoxo [[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

You're my emergency contact.

König x reader.

Everything started with a simple favor and it all ended with your emergency contact accidentally attending your call.

(Give a ♥️ if you enjoyed it)

Warning: perhaps it is a very long and not good story, mentions of violence, as always grammatical and spelling errors.

You're König's neighbor, he's rarely at home so he asked you to keep an eye on his apartment, he gave you his number, just in case something happened.

- Danke, I Know I'm asking too much but I will give you my number, just... In case something happens, ja?

Your smile when he gives you his number In a piece of paper, he will never recover from that moment.

- For sure, it's not a problem, and thank you König I hope there's no need to use it for an emergency, I would prefer to use it in other circumstances.

-Ja, totally agree, well I have to go, thank you so much Schatz.

- Okay, have a nice trip König, see you!.

As soon as he left and you closed the door you started to jump with excitement, you finally had his number, you tried so hard for the last months to start a friendship with him and this is a big step for you.

But... What's next? You thought. After a few days you got an idea, you sent him a message.

«Hi König, I'm your neighbor, I forgot to give you my number, so here it is.»

An hour passed, two hours, four... Maybe it was a bad idea, then.

«Danke :D»

That's all? Well, at least he texted you back. You decided to not insist, maybe he was busy, another week passed, you really want to text him, why? Why do you want to be around him?

«captain's log: König's house is still safe, a package arrived at your door. :)»

You sent a selfie out of his door. A Risky move, you were getting nervous when you saw «seen» under the message.

«Hallo Schatz, danke for the notice, can you save the package at your house?, I'll pick it up when I arrive» «P.S. you look very pretty today ;)»

That was the beginning, for months you started to text each other. You send a lot of pictures about anything while he rarely sends you something, usually sunsets or just the sky. When he's at home you invite him to eat at your house or to drink a beer, you don't know yet but for König this is more than he expected, you and him are good together, jokes, loud laughs and a good conversation are always present when you're together, he's happy, he feels better with you, he feels affection for you.

- Well, this week I won't be at home for a few days, I hope you don't mind.

- What? Nein! Don't worry, I won't be at home either, I have some work, just a few days.

- ahh well maybe we will arrive home at the same time!

- ja! It would be a coincidence, a good one. Where will you go?

- Oh, my Mom's house, I'll visit her for a few days, my flight is this Wednesday, and I'll be back on Monday.

- Ah that's really nice, I hope you have a nice moment with her.

(...)

You're ready to take your flight, you were just waiting, when a group of armed men appeared.

- okay everybody, lay on the floor! We will not harm you if you obey!

Some people started to run, others screamed, the sound of shotguns...

The same man was shooting, while the rest of his companions were capturing people, you were on the floor, you took your phone and pressed the quick "emergency button" an old app your mother made you download just in case you needed, you knew it was useless because you and your mother lived far from each other, but after König gave you his number you added him on the emergency contacts list.

König was on his way to a mission when he Received a text. Your app sent a message with your location, an audio and a short video of what the camera phone could record, in those 15 seconds a man was yelling at you and others.

He opened it and saw that your location was the same as where he was going, he froze when he saw you were a hostage, the biggest fear, rage and desire to protect you grew inside him.

He and his team arrived, but they couldn't access the place easily, every door had a bomb, they didn't know if those were real or false but they couldn't take the risk, they started to plan and work.

You and the other hostages were on the floor, the group of men were kicking, yelling and hitting you, one of them was enjoying hurting you, taller than you and corpulent, you couldn't do much to protect yourself, he made you stand up pulling you by the hair, you yelped and asked him to stop.

- Sit this one in that chair, we're going to start the show.

You were sitting, you looked like a scared puppy, why you? What will they do to you? Why are they doing all this? What they want?. One of the men started to record everything, while another was talking and showing a photograph of a criminal.

- (...) Yeah, so we have hostages here, innocent people who are in serious danger, if you don't let this man free, we will start to torture and kill everybody in this place, we have bombs everywhere, don't be stupid and don't try to send cops or any kind of shitty government deal maker, those are our conditions.

Both men walked to you, while the guy who initially selected you to be tortured was ready to play his twisted game, he made you stand up from that chair.

- This pretty one is the first, we need an answer in 15 min or this one will be dead soon. Let's start...

You looked at all of them, scared, begging them to not do it, a knife cutting deep your thighs, a punch on your eye, your nose and mouth were bleeding, your ribs broken, you were crying, yelling because of the pain, one of them was ready to stab you when a big man dressed in black shoot at him, a clean headshot, you fell on the floor while all the men started to run, shoot and fight, you saw more people in black joining to the fight, you can't focus your view, you can't see clearly, you're fainting, you saw this big guy approaching, you can't see his face, he's wearing a black mask or something, he's talking to you but you can't hear him well.

- Schatz! Look at me, stay with us! Do you hear me?

Schatz? You remember that word, but... Where? Who? You're exhausted, your body aches, you're probably hallucinating.

«Hey! Prepare an ambulance!» you hear him yell at someone else then he carried you in his arms, this strange blurry guy in black saved you, you rested your head in his chest, you're feeling sleepy.

- Schatz, Mein Liebling, stay awake, I'm taking you to the ambulance, you will be fine, ja?

You didn't listen to him anymore, you closed your eyes, you just had flashbacks of the trip In the ambulance but that was all.

After two days you finally opened your eyes. There's a white lamp in the ceiling, the smell of medicine and sickness, a hospital? Were you alive?

You tried to sit but the pain in your ribs prevented you and a familiar voice filled the silence of the room.

- Hey, easy Schatz, you're fine, you're in the hospital.

There he was, König was in a chair close to you, he looked tired, and... Was he wearing black? What's going on?

- König? What... What's going on? What happened? Why are you here, what happened with your job?

He just let a small laugh out and handed you a glass of water.

- too many questions, drink some water first please, ja? You are in the hospital because you were hurt after the airport attack, I'm here because apparently I'm one of your emergency contacts... Schatz, Do you remember what happened in the airport?

You looked at him carefully, his voice, his clothes, and that word, «Schatz». Was he the one who saved you?

- I remember I was waiting to board the plane when those men appeared, then I... Well... You're my emergency contact, so I sent the emergency text, I remember those men hitting and hurting me and I remember the man who saved me, you probably will think I'm crazy but... That man looked pretty much like you... But he was covering his face with a mask or something.

He smiled nervously at you and hid his face with his hands.

- Was it you könig?

He looked at you once again and nodded in silence, the surprise in your face made him more nervous, he never told you about his job but you weren't expecting to find it out in this way.

- You never told me about your job...

You were playing with your hands and the glass, he was looking at his shoes, talking almost in a whisper.

- I can't talk about it... For your protection... And because it's better if you don't know how and who I am at work.

You don't want to make him feel as if you were angry or uncomfortable with it, you're just surprised, he looks too shy and kind to work in something like that.

- I understand... And I know it was really a coincidence and that you were just doing your job but... thanks for saving me.

He doesn't respond, he's still looking at his shoes. As if he was a little boy in trouble.

- König?

- Hmm?

- I won't ask you about your job, If you can't tell me about it, I'm fine with it... look at me Kö.

He finally looked at you, he looked sad or ashamed but you smiled at him and took his big hand on yours.

- Thank you for saving me. You're a good emergency contact.

You blinked your good eye at him, He smiled at you and kissed your hand.

- Just call and I'll be there Schatz.