#and then they. made him do it three times.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[foldingfittedsheets]

A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.

When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.

It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.

Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?

Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.

It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.

I stabbed him with his own pencil.

I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)

That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?

The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.

This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”

I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.

By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.

I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.

All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”

“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”

Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.

Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”

My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.

After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.

[vivwritesfics]

Hey.

I love your writing and was so excited to see ypu asked for blurbs.

I don't know if you got this last time. But are you able to do one (lando, max or carlos (maybe frat!)) where reader hears him agree with friends saying that she is clingy and just a handful. So she backs off and stops cuddling or asking for stuff and even just avoiding going to parties with said friends. Until he confronts her and finds out why and apologises and the friends also apologise. Just super angsty to fluff.

Sorry for rambling :)

i feel like i did this for frat lando (could be wrong) so i'm choosing carlos

"Finally got away, eh?" Lando asked as Carlos walked into the house kitchen.

Carlos grinned as he walked towards the fridge, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. Even after three rounds, his hair was still perfect, and a grin on his face. He stretched before pulling open the fridge. "Fuck," he grunted as he grabbed a bottle of water. "She's fucking clingy."

Clingy. A word Lando had taught him just a few weeks ago. He didn't have a good grasp of what it meant. He didn't mean to use it in that way, didn't mean such a harsh word.

Certainly didn't mean for her to hear it.

But she needed something to drink. Getting dressed into his shirt, she followed him towards the kitchen. When she heard what Lando said, she stopped.

Clingy. She was clingy. That was what Carlos had said. Clingy. It was undeniable, that was the word he had used. He had called her clingy.

Clingy.

Suddenly, she was no longer thirsty.

When Carlos returned to his bedroom, a bottle of water under his arm for her, she was gone. "Cariño?" He called as he stepped back out into the hallway.

And she didn't return to the frat house. No, he had called her clingy, and she wasn't going to stand for that. In class, Carlos attempted to sit beside her, but she moved away from him.

Clingy, huh? She was gonna show him. Ignoring his texts, not joining her friends at any parties. She was completely ignoring him.

And Carlos was sick of it.

The library had been a lucky guess. But he'd found her, headphones covering her ears as she made notes. Carlos approached, slow and cautious. But then he sat beside her and grabbed her wrist.

"Stop avoiding me," he said quickly and she stared at him. "What's going on?"

She pulled out of his grip and stared at him. "Clingy, huh?" She spat and shut her book. "You think I'm clingy?"

Carlos stared at her, dumbfounded. "Yes!" He cried. "And I love it."

The anger was wiped from her face. "Oh," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I've missed you."

Her hand came to rest over his. "Carlos," she moved closer. "Do you know what clingy means?"

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

divider by: @/floriseu

[iwassupremacy]

Going cross eyed on pro hero Bakugou Katsuki’s fingers because ugh they’re so thick and long and rough from all the years of fighting. He has you sit between his thick thighs every chance he gets, one beefy arm holding your body at the waist, pressing you against his chest and the other laying comfortably between your legs so his fingers can work you open real good. He has you moaning and squirming within seconds, his thumb rubbing your clit and two, sometimes even three, of his fingers entering you at once. He knows you can take it and he knows you love a little pain. Most of the time he isn’t even undressed, because he’s not planning on fucking you afterwards. He just loves watching your naked body covered in sweat and wants to play with his pussy, preferably for hours. And he will do it during the most random activities as well.

“Oh my~ Katsuki!” your body tenses as your boyfriend fucks you through your orgasm with his fingers, thumb never leaving your clit and never slowing down. Quickly you whine and sob from the overstimulation. “I can’t~ no more. Please!” You beg him to stop but he just huffs and fastens his pace, thrusting three of his fingers inside without a care. “This is only your third, doll. You and I both know you can cum so much more than that.” He grins, his other hand moving up to pinch your nipple. You yelp at that, eyes rolling in the back of your head. He has you spread out in his lap, your naked body sitting pretty in his clothed one. His name leaves your lips like a prayer, pleading and begging him to stop and keep going at the same time. Suddenly his fingers stop inside of you, stuffing you full but not moving any longer. “Do you even remember anything about the movie?” Oh fuck. When all of this started an hour ago, he made you promise to recite the plot of whatever movie you were watching. Otherwise, he said, he wouldn’t stop at all. You let your head fall down in shame, of course you couldn’t remember. “What a shame. Gotta start over now.” You whine as he picks up the remote to let the movie start over, his hand picking up movement again, making you moan. Only two more hours to go if you only paid attention, how hard could it be? You hear your boyfriend chuckle behind you. “And afterwards, we’re gonna watch part two, princess.”

mdni 18+ !!!

[dixons-sunshine]

So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.

Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.

Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.

Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.

Word count: 1.5k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!

Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.

This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.

Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.

Until now.

The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.

However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.

“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.

Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.

Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.

As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.

Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”

Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.

You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.

Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.

“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”

Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.

“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.

You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.

“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”

Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.

“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”

[myownwholewildworld]

THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune

“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”

Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.

The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.

“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”

You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.

Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”

“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”

“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”

“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”

“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”

“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”

“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”

“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.

“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.

The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.

You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.

When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.

Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.

There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.

His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.

“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.

Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.

“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”

“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.

You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.

As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.

Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.

Then Joel turned around to look at you.

“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”

“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.

“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.

Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.

“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”

“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.

Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.

“It’ll be $800.”

Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.

“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.

With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.

“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”

“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.

Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.

“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”

You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.

You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.

For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?

“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.

Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.

Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.

That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.

Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.

Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.

Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.

An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.

Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.

“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.

“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.

His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.

“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.

“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.

“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?

“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”

“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”

You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.

“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”

Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.

And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.

“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”

“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.

Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.

“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.

“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.

“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.

You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.

“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”

Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.

Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?

Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.

You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.

You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.

“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.

You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.

“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.

His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.

“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.

You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.

“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.

You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.

You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.

Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”

“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.

“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.

“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.

His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.

“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.

Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.

“Yeah, why not?”

Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.

You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.

And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.

After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.

“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.

He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.

Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.

He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.

Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.

“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.

Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.

You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.

“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”

“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.

“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”

“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”

Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.

“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”

“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.

“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.

“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”

“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”

You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.

“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”

“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.

Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?

“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.

God have mercy.

Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.

He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.

Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.

His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.

I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.

“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.

Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.

“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.

“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.

Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.

As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.

“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.

You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”

Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.

Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.

Until he heard you.

“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”

Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.

“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.

You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.

“I came to finish what I started.”

You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.

So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.

Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

 “We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”

You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.

Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.

“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.

“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.

That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.

Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.

You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.

At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.

“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.

His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.

He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.

Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.

“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.

“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”

Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.

Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.

“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.

You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.

“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.

In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.

“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.

The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”

You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.

“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”

“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.

But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.

Fucking torture that was.

Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.

From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.

So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.

With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.

The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.

Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.

The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.

But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.

It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.

So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.

You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.

When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.

Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.

Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.

“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.

You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.

“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.

He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.

“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.

You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.

“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.

Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.

Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.

“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”

You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.

“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.

“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”

“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.

With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.

Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.

Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.

His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.

Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.

Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.

You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.

He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.

“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”

Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.

“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.

You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.

“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.

You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.

What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.

Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.

“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”

“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.

And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.

You were not able to take it for much longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.

His turn to find relief.

Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.

Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.

Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.

“Spread your legs, kiddo.”

And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.

“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.

Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.

You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.

You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.

You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.

Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.

He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.

“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.

Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.

“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.

Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.

“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.

Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.

He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.

With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.

Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.

“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.

From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.

“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.

Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.

“Deal”, he agreed.

And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.

Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

[abswhore]

just a friend final

Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader tags:@macaroni676 @vqxen @grey-jedi12

A/N: this is the final part :( I’ve gain sm support I’m grateful also this isn’t proofread I’ll be going back on all the parts editing ! <3

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A month went by, and those three words continued to echo in Abby's brain . She felt the urge to contact you and make things right, to find out if you truly meant what you said. Yet, she struggled with the idea of confronting you after walking away like that. So, she decided that silence was the safest option, or at least the best choice for her.

She carried on with her life as if nothing had changed, focusing on soccer, her studies, and even finding time for jade, which brung comments from the group. Nora and Dina held her responsible for your absence from the friend group.

"You didn’t see my call? I tried calling you tree times. " Abby asked Nora as she approached the group's table in the dining hall,

"I did, but I was with y/n. You know she doesn't really like you much since you broke her heart." Nora clarified going back to her meal, causing Abby to click her tongue in annoyance.

“That’s not fair Nora.” Manny, speaking with his strong accent "You can't keep bringing this up; it's none of our business what happened with them."

The group genuinely made an effort to avoid interfering in you and Abby’s relationship , and Abby knew this. She felt as though she had caused a divide within the group. Abby understood just how much Dina and Nora valued you.

“She’s our friend.” Dina added in “ it’s kind of hard to mind our business.” 

“Whatever.” Manny mumbled sliding his headphones back over his ears .

“Okay, abs it’s been a month just tell us what happened .” Jesse suggested and Abby sent him a look throwing his hands up “or not.” 

“You or y/n won’t tell us, how bad can it be.” Ellie chimed in, Abby shook her head grabbing her backpack from beside her 

“I promised jade id meet her after , her class I gotta go.”  ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Abby laid in bed scrolling through your Instagram story, replaying the story where your face appeared the most in them. She felt a deep longing for you, and it took all her strength to resist the urge to reach out.

She slid up on one of the stories, typing "beautiful" with heart eyes. Biting her lip, she moved her thumb to the arrow to send the message. When the person resting on her chest shifted, causing her to glanced down.

She glanced at Jade with a sigh, erased the message she had written and tossed her phone aside, pulling the girl in closer. This is what she wanted to settle for. ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

The day had went on and Abby spent the whole day on campus, something she rarely did, hoping to bump into you, but so far, she hadn’t had any luck.

She exited the library, deciding to stop looking for you. And just send you a text something she should’ve been done. As she took out her phone to send you a message, her gaze landed on the recognizable tote bag you always had with you.

“y/n ?.” Abby's voice came out gently, tinged with uncertainty. You paused briefly, clutching the straps of your bag tightly, then forced yourself to look away and continue walking, your heart racing. It felt as though it was thumping outside your chest.

“Y/n wait, let me talk to you.” Abby called out as she jogged behind you, trying to close the gap, reaching for your arm in a bid to slow you down.

“What do you want, Abby?" you snapped, pulling your arm away from her. She stared at you, starting to say something but then stopping before the words could escape.

"Can we have a conversation?" she said softly, moving closer to you. You let out a scoff and shook your head in response.

“talk.”

"can we go to my place? I don’t think we should talk here."She proposed, glancing at the couple that strolled by,

You felt the need to keep your distance, saying, “I can’t; I have other plans.” You did your best to maintain a cold demeanor, but her expression softened you. Finally, you gave in and suggested, “How about this weekend? I’m free then.”

"Sure, that sounds good to me," she said, and you nodded uncomfortably as you walked past her. She turned to watch you as you moved away.

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The week had flown by, and at last, the weekend was here. Abby sat on her couch, anxiously waiting for you , repeatedly glancing at her phone to see if you had sent her a message. Ever since that day she saw you, you had occupied her thoughts completely.

A gentle knock on the door caught her attention, causing her to turn quickly. She got up, brushing her hands against her sweatpants. As she paced back and forth in front of the door, she contemplated what to say when she saw you. Finally, she approached the door, nodded, and pulled it open.

“Hi.” You entered quietly, and as you shifted to the side, you felt a bit out of place. You stood there, feeling awkward, while she maneuvered around you to shut the door.

You both stood quietly, exchanging glances that felt heavy and awkward. The silence stretched on, making the moment feel even more uncomfortable. Finally, Abby suggested that you take a seat, but you turned her down; you had no intention of staying there for too long. 

“ you look good.” Her words made you let out a frustrated sigh. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about ?”

“No, I ju- how have you’ve  been ?” 

“Abby.” You expressed your frustration by saying, “I could be spending my time on something better.”

She stepped closer to you “I wanna say, that I’m sorry for how I left things off.” 

“Your sorry ?” You nearly laughed, but it felt empty, weighed down by the pain you had kept inside. “Is that all you can say? Just ‘I’m sorry’?” Your voice trembled.

Abby paused for a moment, searching for the right words to convey her thoughts to you. She slipped her hands into her pockets, attempting to steady her nerves. 

“I was scared and i didn’t know your intentions. It was natural for me to protect myself, I wasn't sure how to handle it.”

You froze as you let the words sink in, “you could’ve just talked to me.” 

“I know, and I really do care for you and I’m  sorry I’ll spend everyday making it up to you.” She spoke closing the gap in between the two of you. 

“I should go.” You went to turn and Abby went to grab your arm stopping you turning you to face her . 

“No,I don’t want you to go.” Abby stepped closer, closing the gap in between you two , her gaze never leaving you. “I know, I messed up” she breathed. “And I’ll spend every moment proving myself to you. I can’t change the past but I’m here now trying to make it right . Please… let me make this right.” 

Your eyes meet her pleading eyes, and everything inside of you crumbled , she had finally got to you. Whether you believed what she was saying to be true or not. despite everything—you still wanted her.

“You promise ?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. 

Abby eyes lit up and  Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like she was afraid to let go. "I promise,"

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Abby had dedicated the last six months to showing you just how much she cared, and those months turned out to be the best moments of your life. She welcomed you into her world, sharing her thoughts and feelings, and you cherished every second spent together.

You both had introduced each other to your families, and if you had any issues with each other , you promised to keep them private and away from your friends.

“Did you enjoy yourself ?”Abby asked while leading you to the front door. As you both worked on rekindling your relationship, you emphasized the importance of not just focusing on sex but instead prioritizing quality time together, which meant going on dates every weekend.

“I did, thank you.” You leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. Gripping her belt loop, you both stepped inside together.

“What are you doing ?” Abby asked you as you pulled on her belt pulling her towards the bedroom “I thought our deal was no sex ?” 

“I know but I.want.you.”You whispered between kisses on her jaw while you unfastened her belt and pants. She then took control, gently pushing you back onto the bed.

She pressed soft, lingering kisses along your neck, and you tangled your fingers in her hair, tilting your head back and shutting your eyes tightly. This made her stop, and she took hold of your chin,

guiding your gaze to meet hers. “Look at me,” she whispered gently, even as your eyes remained closed. When you finally opened them, you took in the features of her face.

She drew you into a passionate kiss, and as she pulled away, she studied your expression before uttering those three significant words.

“I love you…”

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[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: ermm angst. and another ending that will make u guys mad at me IM SORRY

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

authors note: SRY idk how to write dramatic scenes like that ☹️ im gonna be better prepared for the next part so u guys can communicate PROPERLY w drew n not in some STUPID restaurant. anyway if u wanna be part of the tag list, let me know in replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

your fingers trace the outline of freckles on his arm as he talks about a memory from your past. the soft murmur of his voice blends with the steady rhythm of the waves outside, each sound wrapping around you like a lullaby. there’s no clear distinction between his words, just a gentle hum of familiarity and warmth, like he’s telling you something only the two of you could ever understand.

you can feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the slight shiver that follows each brush as if he’s waiting for you to react, to smile at whatever joke he’s just made.

and you do. you always do.

it feels easy, like breathing, like everything else fades away in this moment.

you’re both lying there, tangled up in each other, the world outside irrelevant. his voice is like the background music of a song you never want to end, and the smile in his tone is contagious, making your heart flutter in a way that feels like home.

and in this space, you’re in love. you’re safe. there’s no distance, no secrets, no hurt—just you and him, where time doesn’t seem to exist. it feels perfect, endless, like nothing could ever come between you.

his hand finds yours, and you smile—because here, in this place, nothing else matters but the two of you.

but that’s not your life.

the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers feels too real, too perfect—yet there’s a gnawing sensation in your chest, a quiet voice whispering that this can’t be right. you pause, staring into his eyes as they flicker with life, his laughter still echoing in your ears. and then, just like that, it hits you.

“this isn’t real . . .” you murmur, the words slipping from your lips like a confession, soft and sad.

the moment shatters, and you wake up with a start, eyes blinking into the early morning light. for a second, your heart races, still tethered to that dream. but as you take in the quiet room around you, reality sinks in like a heavy weight.

drew lies next to you, sound asleep. his breathing is slow, peaceful, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. his face looks calm, almost serene, and for a moment, you can’t tear your eyes away. you wish things could be this easy—simple, like they were in the dream.

if only he knew what you know.

after making that sundae with leila last night—past midnight, no less—you thought you’d be able to shake off everything that happened, but it just made you feel worse. the messages you saw on drew’s phone replayed in your mind, over and over, refusing to let you find any peace.

now it’s morning, and as you drag yourself out of bed, you already feel exhausted. your eyes are gritty, head foggy, and the sun through the windows of the house feel too bright, too warm—too much. you rub your eyes as you shuffle down the stairs, hearing the chatter of everyone gathered in the kitchen for breakfast.

everyone’s already there, looking refreshed. gia’s laughter rings out from the kitchen, and you catch leila’s voice, animated as always, chatting with theo. they’re all gathered around the kitchen island, passing plates of food around—scrambled eggs, toast, fruit. the smell of coffee hits you, and you could almost cry from how much you need it.

leila notices you first. “good morning, sleepyhead!” she greets with a wide grin. “we were wondering when you were gonna wake up. there’s plenty of food left—grab something!”

you give a tired half-smile, barely lifting your head as you mumble, “morning.” your voice sounds flat, even to yourself, and you trudge over to the counter, grabbing a cup of coffee first before anything else.

theo leans back in his chair, eyeing you. “late night?”

you nod, stifling a yawn as you pour your coffee. “something like that.”

leila doesn’t miss a beat, already steering the conversation to her plans. “so, now that we’re all here, i’ve got some exciting news,” she says, “theo booked us a reservation at this amazing restaurant in town tonight, the pearl. we’re talking grand—so dress up nice!” she claps her hands together, clearly excited about the idea.

the group is enthusiastic—gia’s already asking what she should wear, and roman’s grumbling about having to dress up, which earns him a jab from libby. you sip your coffee, trying to focus, but everything feels like it’s happening at a distance.

“y/n you okay with that? dinner?” leila asks, pulling you into the conversation.

you glance up at her, blinking through the haze. “yeah, sure,” you reply. “sounds fun.”

she narrows her eyes at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm in your voice. “you sure? you seem a little out of it.”

you force another smile, trying to shake off the sluggish feeling. “just tired. i’ll be fine.”

gia chimes in from her seat, giggling as she steals a slice of toast. “maybe you just need more coffee.”

you nod, lifting your mug in agreement. “definitely.”

the conversation continues without you as everyone starts talking about what they’ll wear tonight, throwing out outfit ideas and making plans for the day. drew is sitting across the table, looking as refreshed as everyone else, laughing along with them. but you can’t bring yourself to look at him for long.

he catches your eye across the table. he looks at you with a soft, questioning expression, maybe sensing something’s off. you glance away before he can say anything, focusing on your coffee again, but you curse under your breath when out of the corner of your eye you can see him get up from his seat.

he slides into the chair next to you, a casual smile on his face. “started the trip off with a pool day, and now we’re heading to the pearl for dinner,” he says, glancing at the table where leila’s organized a small checklist on her notes app. “leila’s really in planning mode.”

you manage a half-hearted nod, feeling the fatigue settle deeper into your bones.

“hey,” he continues, his tone light, “you okay? you seem a little—”

you’re already over it. before he can finish, you drop your piece of toast back onto the plate, the sound cutting through the chatter around you. without another word, you push back your chair and get up, taking your coffee with you. the others’ voices fade behind you as you walk away, the tension in your chest tightening.

drew looks after you, brow furrowed, and glances at leila, who’s the only other person who even notices your behavior. confusion lines his features as he points to you while looking at her, like asking if she has any idea what’s up with you.

leila shakes her head in response, but glances up at you walking up the stairs in concern. drew seems unconvinced, but he nods, turning back to the table as you disappear upstairs. and you’re grateful for the distance, even if just for a moment.

Liked by theohain, oscareyre113, and others

y/n 🐚

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user1 divaa

user2 I MET U THE OTHER DAY YOU WERE SO NICE!!! 😭😭

↳ user3 YOU ARE SO LUCKY

user4 mother

gia.carinteri ure so cute

↳ y/n love u

leilajharmon angel baby

user5 Are you and Drew still together?

user6 y/n annual post i’m so grateful to be this early

user7 I miss Tempest :(

↳ user8 me too

user9 Why don’t you ever post Drew?

as you step into the pearl, the warm glow of the lights and the soft murmur of waves greet you. leila and theo lead the way, their laughter weaving through the air as they navigate the restaurant. you grip drew’s hand reluctantly as you follow the group.

the server guides you to a table outside, and your breath catches at the sight: the seaside view stretches out before you, waves crashing gently against the rocks. a delicate black metal arch hangs above the table, draped with twinkling lights that flicker like stars. a large, lush plant sways in the cool evening breeze, and you’re in awe.

you take your seat at the outer corner of the table, next to drew. the space feels too open, and you can feel his gaze on you as you fidget with your napkin, trying to ignore the way your stomach knots.

as the conversations flow around you, he leans in, propping his elbow on the table to speak to you privately. “what’s going on with you?” he asks, “and you can’t use the tired excuse anymore. you’ve had loads of coffee this morning.”

you glance at him, caught off guard by the directness of his question. but take a breath, searching for the right words. all you can manage is a small shrug. “i’m fine. seriously. don’t worry about it.”

you wish you could sound more convincing as the server approaches, placing a beautifully plated dish in front of you. relief washes over you; at least you can focus on the food for now.

theo suddenly clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “i just want to say how grateful i am that everyone is here to celebrate with us before i marry this beautiful woman,” he gestures to leila, who frowns as she presses a kiss to his cheek. as the table raises their glasses, you join in but feel somewhat disconnected, and shut out the rest of theo’s short speech until you’re able to eat.

as everyone digs in, gia reaches across the table, poking at her food. “y/n, do you want this?” she holds up a piece of grilled zucchini.

drew interjects before you can respond. “y/n doesn’t like zucchini,” he says casually as he cuts into his food, and you look at him with furrowed brows.

“oh, right.” gia laughs, realization hitting her. “i always mix you two up.” she turns to libby, who’s already reaching her plate across the table.

gia’s cheeks grow red as she giggles, and you continue to watch drew. your eyes meet briefly, but there’s an unspoken barrier between you, so you quickly look away, picking at your food instead.

eventually he even seems lost in thought, his gaze fixed on gia’s plate as he dazes out. roman, sitting across from you, catches on. he leans forward slightly, studying the table as if trying to read the tension, but you notice his motor.

“what are you doing?” you mouth to him.

roman raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. he glances at gia, then back at the rest of you, sensing the unspoken words hanging in the air. he knows something is up between you and drew but decides to keep quiet, because if no one else is saying anything about it, why should he?

and you understand exactly that. you roll your eyes before returning to your food.

“i could die for this garlic bread,” leila groans as she breaks a piece off and eats it. just from hearing it, theo reaches over to take a piece.

you hum as you reach your hand over, and drew grabs a piece for you when he realizes what you want. just as you sit back against your seat, a server from a nearby table accidentally brushes against you as they rushed by, a full glass of red wine slipping from their hand.

time seemed to slow as the glass tumbled, spilling its contents directly onto your lap. your mouth is gaped open and your eyes clamp shut as some of the wine bounces off and hits you directly in your face too.

the others gasp as they stare at you in horror.

“oh my g—” the server exhales, eyes wide with panic. “i am so sorry! i’m so, so sorry!”

you’re frozen for a moment, the cool liquid spreading across your dress, soaking through the fabric. you feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you, and there’s a rush of embarrassment washing over you.

“perfect,” you mutter under yourself as you try to maintain your composure. “just what i needed.”

the server continues to apologize profusely, almost stumbling over their words. “i’ll get you some napkins! please, let me help!”

“it’s fine,” you tell him, forcing a smile despite the discomfort. “just . . . give me a moment.”

as you stand up, the chair scrapes loudly against the ground, and you can feel the wine seeping down your torso. you quickly glance at drew, who looks alarmed, his fork mid-air.

“y/n,” gia calls to you, but you’re already moving toward the doors, desperate to find a restroom.

“just let her go,” roman says quietly, sensing the tension still simmering beneath the surface. gia is worried as she watches you disappear inside the building.

drew rises from his seat and tosses his napkin onto his seat, pulling his sleeves up before hurrying into the restaurant to find you. meanwhile the server is urgently trying to clean your seat but frowns at the stained floors.

just as you reach the restroom, he catches up, breathless and urgent. you feel like groaning when you feel like you just can’t catch a break. “y/n! hey, wait,” he calls out to you, sliding past a man who tries to return to his table. “sorry.”

you halt, irritation surging. “what? what, what? what do you want?” your voice is strong and sharp, turning around to face him.

he stops in front of you and winces at the stains on your clothes, and he glances up at the doors of the restrooms when he realizes you probably should clean it off your arms and chest at least.

“i know you’re upset, but—” he begins, concern lacing his words.

“upset? you think that’s all it is?” you snap back, meeting his gaze. you actually feel insane with every word you release. “you don’t understand what this feels like.”

he looks confused, searching your eyes for clarity. “what?”

taking a deep breath to calm yourself as best as you can, you continue, “do you have any idea how humiliating it is to notice everyone stop talking and feel their eyes on you? and the moment you do get up and walk past them, all you can hear are their murmurs and whispers about how— how embarrassing this all is? it’s suffocating!”

he opens his mouth to respond, but you press on, frustration spilling out. “and it’s not even just about tonight. it’s about how it feels to find out your own fake boyfriend is keeping secrets from you and has been this whole time.”

his expression freezes, shock washing over his face. “what? keeping what from you?”

you consider your choices for a second before stepping forward to reach into his back pocket, but there he reacts—as swift as ever. like he has something to hide. and he does.

he grabs a hold of his phone before you can and when you look up at him, you can feel the guilt in his eyes. but seeing that doesn’t hurt you as much as it does when you understand how fast he is to keep his phone away from you.

you take a step back and feel yourself falter. tears well in your eyes as you watch the way he grips his phone like suddenly it matters to him. it never has before. and you know why it does now.

“so you do know what i’m talking about,” your voice is quiet, a mix of betrayal in your tone that causes drew to reach out to you to say ‘wait’.

“when in the last year did you turn into a child?” you whisper to him, a faint scoff leaving your lips as you stand before him. you’re confronting him in a hallway of a restaurant for crying out loud.

“when you make a plan with your ex-girlfriend, you make sure there isn’t somebody already waiting for you back home. you don’t get close to me while we’re here and you don’t keep it from me the whole time . . . i mean, when were you going to tell me? or tell mila?”

he shakes his head slowly, “i’m getting close with you for the others, remember? that’s our plan.”

“then you shouldn’t hold me and hug me when it’s just us, drew.”

his heart drops at the sound of his name, the familiarity twisting into something more painful in this moment. “y/n—”

“no, don’t ‘y/n’ me,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “you can’t just play both sides. if you’re going to keep secrets from me, then don’t pretend like we’re something we’re not when the rules don’t apply. it’s clearly more than just showing out in front of leila and everyone when it’s just us.”

“but it’s not like that,” he insists, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “we’re trying to make this work for everyone else!”

“for everyone else? or for yourself?” you ask him. “because i swear to you, if i had known mila existed, never in this universe would i have ever agreed to the plan. because it hurts all three of us. do you understand?”

you wait for him to say something—anything, but you’re not surprised when he just stares at you with the same look in his eyes.

it’s too much. way too much. and you still have so many things to say.

are you betrayed that your ex-boyfriend has someone new? are you even able to be mad at that?

“was it worth it?” your voice cracks as you struggle to get the words out. “i keep asking myself, was it worth it to feel so alive, even if it led to this? or would it have been easier if this just never happened at all and we just told them instead of doing all of this for fucking nothing.”

as the last words escape your lips, you push the restroom door open, leaving drew in the hallway in silence.

girl .. ill make a better confrontation in the next part or something what the fuck. im compiling a whole list of his mistakes rn so i can actually be prepared for it too LMAO

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @cl4uus @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy

[bbokicidal]

"I Guess I Never Knew You." | OT8 [SKZ]

Genre : Angst [NO COMFORT]

Pairing : SKZ OT8 x GN!Reader

Summary : Based off of a request asking for reactions/how it would play out if the members were to cheat on you during your relationship. Each scenario is different - and these are rather short simply because I am trying to focus on Kinktober right now. Hopefully whoever requested this will be satisfied!

Warnings : CHEATING, lots of crying, angry responses from the boys, dismissal from the boys, reader gets angry in a few of them, yelling, etc. Very emotional.

These situations are all fictional and are not made to represent the boys. While I do write them as well as I can - based closely off of their personality and how I think they would realistically react - I honest to God do not think any of these men would be capable of cheating on their partner. Specifically Jeongin.

Bangchan - He cheats while you think he's busy with work

The excuses were so easy to make with you. 'Sorry, Angel. I'm staying late at the studio again because Jisung is sick.' 'I'm going in early to work on choreography with Min. See you.' 'Be back late, don't wait up.'

When eventually he just stopped giving you warnings, worry set in. His health was your top priority - but nothing of your own was his apparently. You'd walked into the studio with a small lunchbox full of snacks and water for him, assuming he was staying late again, only to see him with someone in his lap.

It's enough to make you tense, barely hearing his whispers and gently shushes of worry. He was sorry, he meant it, he swore, he didn't know you would find out --

It took every bone in your body to not hit him with that little metal lunchbox.

Lee Know - He cheats with an old friend from school

A girl you'd seen in his posts before. You'd found them kissing in a park while you were on your way to work, walking along the sidewalk only to stop and stare. A few girls had also paused to point and giggle, assuming the girl he was holding hands with was his girlfriend as he'd never done anything with you in public - no one knew that you were the one he should've been sucking face with.

Minho kisses the girl once more before they depart, pivoting on his heel only to fault. He stares at you from where he stands, your unmoving form timid and beginning to shake as the tears streaked down your face. He lifted a hand to reach out, watching as your body turned and - in the pouring rain - dropped your umbrella in your pursuit to get away.

He yelled, crying out for you to stop and let him explain. You didn't seem to listen, putting your feelings first and refusing to hear him out as he chased you down. He was fast - you were faster - darting across the road and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle as you stumbled to the sidewalk before continuing to run to your apartment.

It really was a good thing you hadn't moved in with him when he'd asked you to.

Changbin - He cheats while away for a weekend

Seungmin had sat you down, told you everything. He'd shown you pictures he'd taken on his phone because he knew you were -- God, you were wonderful. And that wasn't his own feelings for you talking.

You'd been so good to Changbin. You made sure he ate three meals a day, made sure he had water, encouraged him to keep working on his music, his solos - choreography, etc. You'd done everything for him when he didn't have the energy to, visiting him during late nights and hugging him tight to tell him how wonderful he was and that he deserved the world.

Apparently, he grew a bit too cocky during their recent trip to Japan. Seungmin's pictures painted a portrait of your boyfriend with another woman in his lap, his face hidden by her hair as she sucked marks onto his skin that would disappear by the next morning.

You didn't confront him - didn't feed into it. You thanked Seungmin, left after patting his shoulder knowing it would likely be the last time you'd see him, and went home to move everything out of your shared apartment.

The next day, Changbin went on an indefinite hiatus.

Hyunjin - He cheats online

It started with the fucking instagram models.

Then he was messaging people, you find out. Contacting women he'd seen at fashion weeks or previous works with magazines. He'd asked them for photos, told them just how beautiful they were, and after looking through their profiles on your own, you'd felt like every ounce of self confidence you'd had was completely destroyed.

He'd only realized you'd found out when he came home from practice - no, 'practice.' - and found you sitting on the couch with tear stained cheeks and his phone in your hand. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind, so eager to meet up with the other woman in his contacts.

You'd packed all of his stuff, told him to get out, and he'd immediately started crying. You'd never seen him so devastated, kneeling at your feet to beg you forgiveness until you slapped him and shoved him back by the shoulders. He sat on the floor, stunned at your boldness to yell in his face that he was a liar - a cheater - and that he never loved you.

He'd sniffled, moving to get up and grab the bags you'd packed for him so he could leave. He stands in shame as he waits by your door while you seethe on the couch, silent, calling his new hookup to come get him. He couldn't call any of the members - they couldn't know about this. Not yet. The shame was eating him way.

Han - He cheats while on tour

He's in the USA when he texts you that he needs to break up. It's enough to break your heart, have you sobbing on the phone as you ask him over voice memo why he needs to break up with you now of all times. He was two weeks from being home in your arms - why now??

He'd chalked it up to just feeling distant, feeling as though you were neglecting him and his needs a bit while he was away.

Jeongin later reveals to you over a phone call that Jisung had hooked up with multiple women while they were gone over the months. He sounds broken as he relays the information to you, apologizing as you sob into the phone and saying how you never deserved any of it.

You were more angry than anything that Jisung had broken up with you in an attempt to cover up his own wrong-doings while also saying it was your fault.

Oh, but the twitter post you made the following day was enough to be near career-ruining for Jisung. And it was damn well enough to have him crawling back to you, blowing up your phone and begging you to delete the post. But it was already far too late for him by then.

Felix - He doesn't cheat on you because he's the most perfect sunshine angel baby on earth (I'm running out of ideas)

Seungmin - He cheats on you with someone you know

Your best friend - Well, ex-best friend - was the woman Seungmin had his eyes on. Not you.

He'd dated you to get closer to her, using you as a pawn in his little game until he was close enough. He would curl up next to you in the mornings, whispering soft goodbyes as he left for work before returning home late after he'd spent the evening in her bed.

You'd found out through another close friend who she had let the information slip to. Sleeping with an idol - definitely something to brag about.

He'd knocked on your door for nearly half an hour before you answered, threatening to hit him with a frying pan if he didn't leave. He was filled with confusion until you hissed out that you knew what he was doing. His eyes widened, puppy-like and scared after realizing you'd found out about his little scheme.

"Everyone is right about you! You're a fucking snake, Seungmin. You use people, you're full of fucking lies and bullshit! Do us all a favor and never date anyone again, you piece of dogshit!"

I.N - He cheats on you with a trainee

It's hard to stomach when you see it. He was so young when he entered the idol scene - How was he even doing it? Hooking up with a nineteen year old-- A girl who had just appeared at the JYPE building a few months ago.

She was set to debut in a new girl group - a pretty thing, tall and slim with long hair and a cutesy style. The ideal young woman for a girl group. And apparently he'd enjoyed her, too.

He isn't aware of your presence until you're stomping up behind him and shoving him by the shoulders, stumbling away to turn to you. He stops, breathing hitched and arm still around the girl's waist as she stands stunned.

You'd bit at him, yelling how he was full of shit when he'd said he'd never understand why 'I Like It' was a good song, how he'd never be able to imagine hooking up with people with no romantic intentions.

"You want to be with her then, right? You want to date her? If you really don't believe in just hooking up for fun, that must be the explanation."

He stutters, stumbling over his words as his eyes avert. "W-- ... Well..."

Your chest raised as you took in a breath, wanting to slap the man for his actions. Instead, you'd turned to leave, bumping into a very oblivious Chan on your way out. He'd stopped, asking what was wrong, before turning to peer over at Jeongin and the girl standing there, shame filling the two of them.

"Oh, mate..."

Permanent Tagist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersupriseee @possum-playground

[gamblersdoll]

fwb, relationships, small angst, smut. long fic alert, not proof read, some fluff and some jokey jokes :p worked on this since 11 am.

katsuki bakugou didnt do the whole relationship thing. he felt like it was.. too intimate, too intense for him. a mere distraction for him and his career.

he thinks hes the only one who thinks that, seeing how shitty hair and pinky got together. the way that idiot and the emo chick were always together— fuck, chargebolt made her his whole life, which was fucking ridiculous.

he was more fond of the casual fucking, either going on tinder or hinge or whatever fucking apps there were. his account was booming though, several thousand of messages every five minutes. it annoyed him, shockingly.

“dude, can i get a fuckin’ minute of peace?” he barks out, silencing his phone and pinching his bridge.

“bro, you literally downloaded a dating slash fucking app, and you are the second pro hero.” kirishima reminded him, feet on the coffee table and swigging his soda. “get what you paid for.”

“get your fucking feet off’a my damn table, are you a caveman?”

he hated how kirishima was right, thinking he wouldnt get some kind of attention from an app when he was a hero, an attractive one at that.

so he deleted it, he’ll try going out more than possibly be stalked on a dating app.

he hated how every woman threw themselves at him when they saw him, he doesnt like that much attention. even in highschool, it overwhelms him. every girl in this damned bar was all over him.

well… excepting one. which so happened to be you, you just wanted to be left alone and drink to your hearts content. bakugou can clearly see that, and keeps an eye on your for a bit. later on though? oh he’s gotten loose enough to finally come up to you with ease.

“what’cha drinkin?” he asks, an arm supporting his weight on the bar table.. his cheeks were a slight pink, but he doesnt drink enough to make himself so tipsy or drunk.

“strawberry mimosa?” you chuckle, it literally says it on the can. “you must be blind or drunk to not be able to see that.”

an eyebrow of his quirks up, he’s intrigued. “i ain’t drunk, hon’.” he chuckles, “and do you even know who i am?”

“even if you are the ‘great explosion murder god, dynamight,’ yer off duty.” you snark back, hearing a baritone laugh come from his throat.

“and how would you know that?”

“well, pretty sure they wouldnt let you drink onna’ job.” you retort, turning to him now and crossing your legs. you hear a ‘yeah?’ and you nod.

“you sure, sweetheart?” he asks, taking another sip of his ‘oktober fest’. he sees you nod, and he hums. “how are you so sure?”

“pretty sure its common knowledge, but, common sense aint common no more.” you pull the final last word, dynamight nodding and tilting his drink to yours. you both clink your drinks together, holding the eye contact that he initiated.

the drive home was hell, the way he had struggled to keep his eyes on the road, your foot sliding across his lap and feeling him slowly get solid by the second.. you were a little vixen werent you? and to open the door without dropping you was more smooth than anything.

he practically ripped your clothes off, a nipple becoming his first victim and you arching into his mouth. he chuckled, youre so sensitive, arent you baby?

god, he hasnt had a good pussy in a long time.

his body molded into yours, kissing your neck and then lying you down and dragging his tongue down your supple skin until he got to your ankles, then back up to your nipples.

he never kissed your lips though, yet, he also didnt taste you.

the crack of the morning dawn showed its ass bright and early, your frame still within the bed and he was on the other side. interestingly, you both groan groggily and flutter your eyes open, head peering up and looking around.

lucky for you both, you werent hung over. you both peak over to each other.

one blink, two blinks, three blinks… bitch, say something!

“uh—“ you both say, redirecting your gazes and chuckling.

“you wanna go or me go?” he asks, watching you point to him and he nods. “did you like last night?” he asks, just a common courtesy to ask. he sometimes cared. it just depended on how you were in bed.

“i liked it,” you said, getting up and putting your panties on. “i did sleep with the second pro hero.”

he hums only.

“did you walk or drive to the bar?” he asks, pulling up ‘uber’ and looking to you. you mutter a ‘walk.’ and you give him the addresses to your house.

“you just randomly give out your address?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and hes hunched over.

“you just sleep with random people you dont know?”

he sucks his teeth, “you got such a mouth on you.” he taps on the confirmation button, “your uber will be here in thirty.”

“you seemed to love it last night, dynamight.” you glares at you for a second, you putting your dress back on and smirking. “but thank you, sir.”

sir?

you both make small talk, until the uber gets here and dynamight walks you to the car. he leans against the door frame, watching you strap in and take off.

katsuki bakugou wasnt a relationship type man. no, those were distracting and too intense for him. but yet, he invited you over again after exchanging numbers.

this was just casual sex, nothing more nothing less.

“you mean to fuckin tell me—“ he cuts himself off, pausing the show that you both were watching. “you ain’t never had your pussy eaten?”

“well.. no? thats bad?” you ask, taking a sip of the apple cider he brought from his fridge. “you cant get mad either, you haven’t either.”

“i had eaten something spicy, you want burnin’ pussy?” he retorts, taking a sip of water to cleanse his palette. “dont answer that, just lie the fuck back.” he shakes his head, softly pushing you back.

“sir, yes sir.” you joke, feeling his body weight hover over you and kiss your neck. you moan, feeling your shirt be pushed up and shorts be pulled down. he kisses your inner thigh, licking a long stripe up your bare clit— you pulling back for a second.

he peers up at you, heavy and lidded eye’s looking at you. “you good?” he asks, pausing all movement. you nod, feeling him hum and then slowly and softly kiss your clit again. you settle down, moaning his hero name, thats all you know him by.

“call me katsuki, hon’.” he mumbles in your pussy, spreading your lower lips apart and putting your clit in his mouth. he suckles on it like the sweetest candy he’s tasted, his cock starting to get harder by the second.

your breath is starting to hitch, a hand flying to his hair and gripping at the root. he grunts, eyes rolling back for a second and then hips bucking into the couch.

“fuck— mhm.. pull my shit, baby.” he groans, moving down your slit and putting your legs onto his shoulders. his tongue alone is making you clamp down on nothing, he can feel it.

your hips move on their own, grinding down against his lips and chin and he lets you use him, use him to make you feel good and cum on his face like no other. he takes pride in this, being the only one whos ever made you writhe in pleasure because of him.

“go ‘head, come on my face, mama.” and that only set you off, legs trying to close as your orgasm ripples through you in waves and he laughs, rubbing circles in your clit to add more to it. you try to close your legs, you try to push his hands away, only for him to swat at them. “aht aht, dont you fuckin’ go anywhere.”

you lie limp, feeling drained and youre trying to come down from your high and how good it feels to be devoured by him. “you said.. katsuki?” you whisper, and he finishes cleaning up the spit that dribbled down your cheeks and up your back.

“yeah.” he reiterated, pulling your shorts back up and patting your clothed cunt, watching you jerk.

katsuki bakugou wasnt into relationships, no, fuck that. he wasnt into the intense stuff and was damn sure not really intimate.

but yet, he finds himself liking the little things on social media, primarily tiktok. he hates the way people look so happy within relationships, some of them even being heros in different countries or even just here. but, he hates the way it gives him ideas, and brings a smile to his face.

ping!

he looks back at your messages, a small smile on his face and he feels his heart race—

the fuck was his heart racing for?

“do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he replies back, feeling a pang in his chest, but it wasnt out of fear or anything. he watches the three bubbles pop up, and your response is all he wanted to read.

‘sure, surprise me.’

and he does, taking you to a michelin starred restaurant and making you order the most expensive thing. because he would feel bad if he only order the most expensive things, right?

“do you like it?” he asks, cutting into the steak that he ordered and watching you eat your food.

“yeah, i do. i just sometimes eat slow.” you reply, him nodding and then tapping his foot. “do you mind if i take it home?”

“… why would i be mad if you took food home, stupid?” he asks, like you just asked him if he claps with shitty hands.

“just askin..” you say, watching him wave over the waiter and ask for a box and the check. “we can split the bill if you want.”

he darts his eyes back to you, scrunching his face up and giving you a once over.

“what?”

“split the bill?” he asks, making sure he heard you right. you nod, and he nods with you. “give me yo fuckin’ wallet.”

“because i asked if you want to split the—?”

“did i speak japanese? give me your damn wallet.” he snarks back, snatching your wallet from your fingers and putting his metal card on the check book. “some damn split the bill.”

“well sorry..” you mumble, putting the left over food in the box.

“you can tell me how sorry you are later when we get home.” he suggests, an eyebrow raised at you and a smirk. “you can choose how much to tip.”

“deal.”

both of you could barely get up the stairs, him slamming you against the walls of the corridor that lead to upstairs, but hes already on his knees and shoving your panties to the side, spitting and licking on your pussy.

“wrap this around— yeah, good job.” he praises, holding you up by your legs and thrusting into your soppy walls. “fuck, yer tight tonight.”

your fingers pull at the root of his hair, open mouth moaning against his neck and kissing at it. you feel his groans reverberate in your body. “katsukiiii..” you moan, biting your lip.

“yeah, yeah, yeah, there ya’ goo..” he strews out praises, pressing his head against yours and kissing your neck back. “make me proud, thats it.”

“gunna cum.. gonna cum, kats—“ you say, feeling you clamp and feeling your walls contract against his walls of the house. he grunts, spilling his seed within the condom and growls in your neck.

“hey.. katsuki?” you asked, lying next to him in his bed. he opens his eyes, looking down to you.. “can i ask you something?”

“ask away.” he says, patting your rear and focusing in on you.

“why dont you ever kiss me?” you ask, he furrows his eyebrows, leaning up a bit.

“i do kiss you?” he retorts, something that he doesnt understand. the fuck were you talking about? he kisses you.. he kisses your neck, your head, your fucking pussy for crying out loud.

“yeah, everywhere but my lips.” you reject, sitting up and watching his movements.

he tilts his head for a bit, clicking his tongue. “thats just too intense and intimate for me. and, quite frankly, im not into it.” he admits, then he watches you frown. “what you frowin’ for?”

“we are literally laying in the bed, in nothing but boxers and a shirt and panties.” you remind him of your situation, the fuck did he mean it was ‘too intimate?’ “how can this not be intimate, but a kiss is?”

“this..” he circles to you and himself, “this is just casual fucking.” he tries to remind you, but he starts to grow agitated when you get up and start clothing yourself. “the fuck you doin?”

“this is just casual? but yet you took me on a fucking date.” you say, growing agitated and frustrated yourself.

“that was dinner, not a date.” hes starting to get annoyed, thats why he didnt do this shit often. “i am in no fucking bounds to you, youre not fucking special.” he says, running his fingers through his hair and breathing through his nose.

you stare at him, putting your shoes on and then grabbing your purse. “youre right, im sorry.” you say, grabbing your phone as well and then looking back to katsuki. “ill see you later, ‘kay?”

he stays quiet, getting up to open the door for you and then closing it behind. “for fucking christs sakes..”

he goes back to the king sized bed, closing his eyes and turning the television off. this night already went to shit, and he just wanted to sleep it off.

he wakes up the next day, he’s got another two hours before he goes into patrol. he figured he could just text you to come over, its a new day and apologize, have you stay for a couple hours until he came home and fix something.

“hey, you wanna come over and talk about it?” he typed, sending it to you and waiting for your reply.

twenty minutes had past, its weird. usually youd be up by this hour, but eventually you did respond a thumbs up, and he tided up the living room and waits on you.

“hey.” he gruffly says, letting you in and closing the door behind you. he smells something strong. “did you use incense or some shit?”

“no, its body spray.” you say, plopping on the couch and he smells it again, then it wakes him up even more.

“you wanna try again?” he asks, folding his arms and holding his scowl. “did you just come from someone else’s house?”

you stay quiet, staring at him. the fuck did he want from you?

“you fucked another guy?” he asked again, caging you in and staring into you. “because im not in the fucking mood for these fucking games.”

“am i not allowed to?” you ask, getting to his level as well and then matching his scowl. “im in no fucking bounds to you.”

“so you want to be fucking petty, thats what the fuck this is?”

“to the fuckin’ t.” you respond, grabbing your things and shoving past him. he grabs your arm, pulling you back and staring into your soul.

“who the fuck was it?”

“none of your fucking business, i didnt ask you about the bitches you be fucking that’s not me.” you retort, but it only deepens his scowl, into a face filled with venom.

“i dont be fuckin other bitches.” he growls, then scoffs when you laugh softly. “the fuck is funny?”

“you dont be fuckin other girls?”

“why the fuck would i?” he asks, putting his hands in the air in confusion. “you think i just spread my legs to anyone and everything?”

“wow, i must be so special to know and have that.” you snarkily say, walking to the door.

he groans in agitation and yells. “bitch, fuck you!”

“fuck you, too bitch!” you shout back as he makes his way to you and you slam the door behind you.

the fuck were you both even arguing for?

bakugou wasnt the same after that, he was more stressed at work, feeling the after effects of the argument and not hearing from you in weeks. its shown in the way he fights the villains on the job, a tad bit— no, alot more aggressively than usual.

and he wasn’t going out anymore, just work, gym, then home. he wasnt in the mood, he felt… alone, depressed, like he was missing something.

he had everything that hes had, so what could possibly be fucking missing?

he scrolls on his timeline, seeing that you posted another story at work. he felt his heart pang, a knee bouncing, and like he wanted to reach out.

was he seriously missing you right now?

he sucks his teeth, his head dropping and he’s feeling like such a fucking idiot. he felt it, like he couldnt go a couple of days without you. he needed relief, a certain one.

you both meet up at the bar, the same very place you met and then flirted hard. he watches you sit down, a new dress, huh?

you looked so damn gorgeous, it genuinely pissed him off.

“what do you want?” you ask, telling the bartender for a strawberry mimosa, your usual.

“i..” he tries to say, he hasnt done the whole ‘im sorry’ thing since highschool. “i was wrong.” he admits, staring back at you and watching your face. “was wrong fer callin’ you a bitch, and saying you werent special. and fer gettin’ mad that you slept with someone else.”

“hm.” you hum, tapping your foot and holding your drink. “ill let you in on a secret through the grape vine.” you say, watching him raise a single eyebrow.

“i didnt sleep with some other dude, it was your old cologne.” you say, watching his face contort into confusion. “you showed me an old cologne you used to wear when you were scrolling on tiktok with me. you were half asleep though.”

it all finally clicks when he remembers, and he rubs his face in pure embarrassment and anger. “im going to fucking kill you, bitch.” he says, not truly angry, but embarrassed.

you laugh, and his chest feels less tight. “im sorry for doing that, just tried to show you that what you said wasnt cool.”

“i respect that.” he says, drinking his moonshine.

“thats such a bitch drink..” you watch him swig, and he growls.

“says the one drinking a gotdamn mimosa.” he retorts, and you both finally have a good laugh after about thirteen minutes in.

he feels good, better.

katsuki bakugou wasnt the relationship guy, its too much for him.

but with the way he has you laying ontop of him, a discarded used condom in the trash bin next to his bed. he liked where he was at, the way the sun shined on your face and skin.. he pondered at the earliest hours of the morning. he didnt have to work today, that was good for him since he had you to spend time with. might even a plan a date for you tonight—

a date? the fuck?

he feels himself inclined to you, watching tiktok on the lowest volume so you dont awaken. he keeps seeing these couple tiktoks, watching how they go from tinder, to being married and shit.

could.. could that happen to you? he feels sick, like he was getting clammy and his heart pounded, a imaginative feeling that he finally proposes to you, gives you a couple brats that run around the house he just bought—

…aw fuck no.

“which dress fits me more?” you rummage through the hangers of dresses in the store, he only watches you and picks one out in particular. a split thigh dress with sleeves, since it was about to be fall. “oh, so you want my ass to fall out?”

“your ass aint going to fall out.” he chuckles, pulling it and putting it against you. “youd look good though.”

“would i really?”

he tilts your head up to his, looking into your eyes instead of your soul this time. “always.” he watches you get heated in the face, pulling away out of flustering and scramble to the next aisle.

once you finally start to check out everything, which was just a mere dress that he suggested and some more shirts, you pull your wallet out, just for him to slap it out of your grasps.

“the fuck?!” you say, picking it up and the cashier was already inserting his card.

“told you that when youre with me, i pay.” he reminds, taking the receipt and bag and then holding the door for you.

“did you have to slap my wallet out my hand, though? couldve been robbed!” you say, putting it back in your purse and grumbling.

“anyone trying to rob you infront of me is just stupid.”

“i guess..”

eventually when you got home, katsuki put the goods down onto the couch and then headed to the kitchen, cranking up the flames on his stove. “oh em gee, youre going to cook for me?”

“why did you say it like that, you dumbass?” he turns to you, a confused but laughing face. “yes, im cooking. you need to stop eating out as much.”

“i eat out maybe twice a week.” you say, and he purses his lips. “what? you saying im big?”

“i did not say that.” he growls, tossing the pan and sautéing the veggies. “what?” he asks, seeing your concerned face.

“you have no care for your pans or pots..” you say, watching his shrug and mock you. “on tonight’s episode of hells kitchen..”

“gordon ramsey wouldnt last thirty minutes with me.” he comments, shaking his head and sighing. “im the best cook.”

“no objections.”

and he was, making you a chicken bowl with rice, sautéed vegetables and toasted brioche bread. “thank you, katsu.” you say, the nickname rolling off of your tongue and you didn’t really think of it, but kissing his cheek.

he freezes, staring at you and an eye twitches.

“…what? did i have to brush my teeth after every meal too?”

“katsukii katsuki katsuki!” you moan out, legs pressed to your ears as he pounded away into your cervix. he growls into your ear and pulls you back up, flipping you onto your stomach and wrapping his arm around your throat, holding you in a headlock.

he groans, drilling his cock into your gummy spot that made you see stars like no other. this was more rougher, deeper, and fast paced than any other of your fucks. this one felt.. different.

all because of a fucking kiss on the cheek.

“katsuki!” you squealed strained, eyes rolling back and gritting your teeth trying to endure his cock inside of your fluttering walls.

“fuckin cum, beg me to let you cum.” he growls with venom, and desperation runs him completely now. he hears you, crying out his name and then fucking him back. “fucking god—hah!”

you cream along his shaft, his cock starting to twitch and he drags you up again, putting you back into missionary to slip away into your spasming cunt to just still inside and keep going.

“k-katsuki what are you?—“ he cuts you off by crashing his lips onto yours, a pang into your chest and arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. he groans in the kiss, stopping his hips.

he pulls away, looking down to you with a narrowed gaze. “what?” you ask, his face getting a little bit softer.

“i dont want to just casually fuck with you anymore.” he says, getting closer to you. “think… think im in love with you.”

“..so.. because i have sex with you, youre in love with me?” you ask, his face dropping and he flicks your head. “ow— fucker!”

“no, stupid..” he says, “i like the moments we dont fuck. like dinner dates and the.. domestic shit i guess.” he says, biting his lip.

“so you admit that they were dates?” you snicker, and he chuckles in defeat.

“whatever you wanna call them, baby.” he says, but puts a hand on your cheek and. “i love you.”

you try to take it serious, but one factor. “can you tell me this without your cock being in me?” you ask, he shakes his head and pulls his hips back, allowing you to sit up.

“love you.” he says, his heart beating out of his ass.. or so it feels like it.

“i love you too, dummy.”

“now you fuckin ruined my moment.”

[x0xomady]

broken cd (pt.1)

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

summary: you’re an assistant for a designer at prada, and you run into a mucisian on the streets of manhattan which leads to a long night of music, pizza, and fuzzy blankets. (rockstar!harry x fashiondesigner!reader)

warnings: smut in part 2! (they just makeout in part 1)

playlist to listen to while reading: 🎧

a/n: was this based on a cheesy "sex in the city" or “the devil wears prada” reference? yeah 100%. is this a corny romcom plotline? yes absolutely, don’t be a hater. this is just cliché after cliché after cliché. i honestly like the second half more, but enjoy!

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

‧˚⊹ October 15, 2003 ⊹˚‧

you LOATHED your job.

no, scratch that, you didn’t hate it, you just heavily disliked the work that you had to do. when breaking into the fashion industry, everyone knows you have to start from the bottom. you know that to, that doesn’t mean it’s fun.

your boss, an executive designer for prada, was currently making you run through the streets of manhattan with three bags of clothes, dry cleaning, and two cups of coffee.

of course, it was an opportunity of a life time to be able to work for someone with so much power, but still. it didn’t make it any better that it was 40 degrees and raining.

“shitshitshit” you try to run as quickly as you can in your heels to catch the cab, but some business man in a suit gets there before you. “asshole.” you mumble to yourself and groan in frustration as you try to find another taxi.

the streets are filled with rain and mist, making the cars drive slower, and taxis less available.

you huff in frustration and turn around, desperately trying to keep a grip on the drink holder and clothes. THUD

“ah!” you gasp in surprise as your body meets another, effectively knocking all of the coffee out of your hands and onto the floor. you stumble back, stepping on something on the ground.

“shit-” you hear a voice come from the person you just hit.

you look up, blinking raindrops out of your eyes. in front of you is a man, roughly your age, with a leather jacket and messy brown hair. he's looking down at the mess of spilled coffee on the sidewalk, then back up at you.

“ah fucking hell-" he mutters, noticing the cd of his that you stepped on.

there’s a pang of guilt as you look at the ruined cd. "i'm so sorry," you say, trying to keep your balance on your heels. "i wasn't looking where i was going."

you pick up the broken cd and it’s case and hold it out for the man apologetically, also grabbing the coffee cups that had dumped all over the ground.

the man looks at you for a moment, then takes the cd from you.

"thanks," he says, "but i think it's a little too late.” he holds up the broken cd, which is in two jagged pieces.

a horrible rush of guilt and also panic that you had just lost all the coffee for your boss runs through you.

“oh god- i’m SO sorry, i- here take this” you quickly pull out your wallet and hand him a twenty dollar bill.

the man looks at the bill and then back at you with a small smile as he helps you pick up the spilled coffee cups and put them in a trash can.

"uh, no it’s alright, love. i’m afraid that was a cd i made, so money won’t do much."

you look at the cd in his hand, now realizing that it’s a homemade music cd, not something you can buy at a store, and feel your guilt double.

“oh- i’m so sorry, i didn’t realize.” you say, feeling even worse now.

he shakes his head and pushes his damp hair out of his eyes.

“it’s fine, it happens,” he helps you adjust the clothes and bags in your arms so that you’re not dropping everything. “are you alright? you seem a bit frazzled.”

you nod, trying to keep your emotions in check. there was an overwhelming since of anxiety and guilt

“i’m fine, just in a hurry.” you glance down at your watch. “i need to get these things to my boss, like, right now. i’m so sorry about your cd-”

the man smiles and shakes his head again. "really, it's no problem. it was nothing important."

you feel a little relief at his nonchalant attitude, but you're still feeling guilty for ruining something of his.

"are you sure? i feel terrible. is there anything i can do to make it up to you?" you ask, shifting your weight awkwardly on your heels. you had to leave, but you didn’t want to just break this man’s cd and then run away.

the man looks at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes, the rain was picking up, leaving some drops to fall from his curls.

"i'll tell you what, you make it up to me by helping me out. i’m supposed to bring a pretty girl to my concert tonight, and i don’t have anyone yet."

you blink, surprised by his proposition.

"your… concert?" you say, your mind quickly racing back to your boss and the bags of clothes in your arms. you were a bit nervous to be around this very attractive man, so you spit out the first lame excuse that comes to mind “i, um, i have work…”

he grins, clearly enjoying the look on your face. "oh, come on, it’s not until 9. just pop by and hang out with me for a bit. it’s just a gig at webster hall, nothing too fancy."

you think for a minute. was it really a good idea to agree if you didn’t know this guy? probably not, but, how often do you meet a hot british guy in new york?

“uh… alright, sure."

his smile widens, and he looks genuinely pleased that you agreed.

"great, i’ll give you my number so i can let you in."

he pulls out a sharpie from his pocket, takes the cd case that was broken and writes his phone number on one of the broken shards before handing it to you.

you stare at the broken cd in your hand for a moment, then look back at the man.

“so… i just need to go to the venue, and call you?" you ask, checking the time again.

he nods, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. "that would do it, darling. can i have your name so i can tell them to let you in?”

you nod and smile a little bit, feeling less anxious and upset than you did five minutes ago. “yeah i’m y/n”

he grins “y/n, lovely name. i’m harry. i have to get to soundcheck, but i’ll see you later, yeah?”

he starts walking down the street but turns around and smiles. “be sure to look extra pretty tonight, gotta impress my friends!”

you nod and watch as he walks away, feeling a bit flustered at his comment. you look down at the broken cd shard in your hands, with his messy handwriting scribbled on it.

“okay then…” you mutter to yourself suddenly the realization that you were late to work and needed four new coffees hits you. “OH SHIT-”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ at the office ｡⁺˚｡⋆

after successfully running two blocks to get more coffee, running two more blocks back to get to the office, you made it. your boss wasn't angry, just neutral and stern as usual.

“thank you, y/n, phoebe should have your assignment on her desk.” your boss takes a sip of her coffee without looking up from the sheets she was looking through, waving for you to leave.

(a/n: i 1000% thought about gisele bündchen in the devil wears prada when i was writing phoebe. this is so cliché im sorry)

you nod and walk back out to your desk. your friend and co-worker, phoebe, is sitting at her desk. she immediately sits up and looks at you as you approach your desk.

“you’re late. i was beginning to get worried.” she says, putting the papers for the new design on your desk. “what happened?”

you sigh and sit down in your chair, putting your head in your hands.

“ugh, don’t even ask. i stepped on music that some hot english guy made and had to run around manhattan looking for more coffee because i destroyed the first three cups on the sidewalk.”

phoebe's eyes widen at the mention of the hot english guy.

“wait, wait, wait.” she says, leaning forward in her chair. “hold on, rewind. who is this hot guy?”

you roll your eyes a little, amused by her excitement.

"his name is harry. he said he's a musician performing at webster hall tonight. he's the guy who owned the cd i destroyed.”

you reach into your pocket and pull out the shard of the broken cd that had his name and phone number on it.

phoebe's eyes seem on the verge of popping out of her head as she grabs the shard from your hand and reads the messy handwriting.

"he gave you his phone number? and you’re going to his gig tonight? this is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen!"

you smile and take the shard back from her. "i'm not even sure why i agreed. i've got work and i don't really know anything about him or his music”

phoebe's grins and leans back her chair, looking smug. "oh, please, you know exactly why you agreed. it’s because he’s hot and british."

you roll your eyes again, but your face flushes for a moment.

"okay, fine, but there’s still a chance his music sucks, then what?" you ask, picking up the papers and starting to look through your work.

she shrugs, looking unconvinced. "i suppose. but let's be real, there's no way a good-looking guy who's british and a musician is going to suck. that's just against the rules."

you scoff a little and shake your head, although you had to admit, phoebe had a point. most british rockstars are hot...

"alright, alright. but he could be a jerk, or crazy, or-"

"or you guys could fall madly in love and get married and live happily ever after and you show your kids this cute little cd" interrupts phoebe.

you laugh and roll your eyes. "yeah, or that. in reality, i'll probably end up going home after the gig and never hear from him again."

phoebe frowns at your negativity. "oh come on, have some optimism. maybe he's 'the one' and this is your meet cute."

you smile and shakes your head at her response, going through the new designs for your boss. "yeah, we’ll see.”

phoebe grins and turns back to her computer, typing as she speaks up again. “…. you’re gonna wear that mini skirt aren’t you?"

you smile and shrug, writing down notes for the designs.

“maybe"

phoebe hums in response and continues typing for a few seconds before responding

“someone’s trying to get lock him down-”

"shut up!"

⋆｡˚⁺｡ that night ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you did, in fact, wear the mini skirt. obviously.

how often did a sexy british musician come up to a girl in new york? never! this is a once in a life time opportunity, and you needed all the leather mini skirts you could find.

it only took about one mental breakdown, four calls with your friends, and a shot to convince you to leave the apartment.

there was a HIGH chance this guy was like every other up-and-coming mucisian in new york, annoying and pretentious. however, you were getting hope that maybe he wasn't as bad, he was pretty sweet this morning afterall.

(a/n: THIS is the outfit i imagined, but it's up to you! imagine whatever you would feel most comfortable in!)

you hail a cab and give the address for webster hall, looking at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. you made sure to do a little heavier makeup than usual, and your leather mini skirt matched with your black sleeveless top and boots.

the cab pulls up in front of the building and you pay the driver. you look up at the building, it was already crowded with people lined outside the venue. you pull the cd shard out of your pocket and dial in the number written on it, holding the phone to your ear.

it rings a couple times before he picks up.

"hello? is this the pretty girl i ordered?” he asks, teasingly.

you smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it. “yeah it’s her. she's waiting outside in the cold so you better hurry up, rockstar.”

he laughs, the sound of people chatting and music playing faintly in the background.

"rockstar, huh? i like that. gimme a minute, love, i just have to let security know you're here." you hear him talking to someone as the phone hangs up.

you put the phone back in your pocket and lean against the front of the building, waiting patiently as a few drops of rain fall from the sky. after a couple minutes of waiting a security guard appears in front of you, looking you up and down.

“are you y/n?”

you nod, adjusting your jacket. “yeah.”

the guard looks you over again before nodding and gesturing for you to follow him inside, going back through a door that lead into the venue.

you walk into room, which seemed to lead to backstage. people were either standing around chatting or sitting on the couch, some of them were holding instruments. you looked around, wondering where this man disappeared to.

you turn around and look at the man with the irish accent. he had a big smile on his face and was holding a guitar so he must be part of their band.

“hello, love! what are you doing here?” you practically jump out of your skin as a blonde man pops up behind you.

“oh- hi. i’m y/n, i’m looking for harry…”

the blonde man's smile widens and he nods, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the room.

“oh, yeah, he’s over by the couch. c’mon i’ll take you to him” he says, and you allow yourself to be led across the room to a couch in the corner where a group of three men were sitting.

one of the men sitting on the couch was the one you were looking for. harry was wearing a loose faded t-shirt and jeans, and he was laughing at something one of his friends said. he notices you and his eyes widen in surprise, and his smile widens.

“there you are!” he says, standing up and walking towards you, playfully shoving the blonde guy away. “niall will you back off? i don’t need you scaring the pretty girl before i have a chance”

niall laughs and puts his hands up in the air. “just showing her around. not trying to steal your girl.” he pats harry on the back before walking back over to the other guys.

harry turns back to you and grins, looking you over. “wow” he says, raising an eyebrow. “you look fantastic”

you smile and roll your eyes a little, he looked hot as well, but you weren’t going to say that out loud. “yeah, yeah, well i had to make sure i didn’t embarrass you while i made up for breaking your cd.

harry grins, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, still looking you over approvingly.

“oh darling, i don’t think you could embarrass me even if you tried. now, the concert is about to start, but you can watch from the side stage or go sit down in the booth, whatever you want”

you nod, looking out at the growing crowd just outside the side stage. “side stage if that’s okay”

he grins excitedly and nods, grabbing your hand and leading you with him. “perfect. get a better view that way” he leads you around the side and down a narrow hallway to one side of the stage.

you followed him back, walking through the halls until you were out near the side stage. the music had already started and he turned back to you, still smiling.

“i have to go on now, but we’ll meet up after the show alright?” he asked, starting to hurry back towards the stage

you nod and smile as he runs off to go get his guitar and microphone. there were about 2,000 people in attendance, so needless to say it was cramped down below. you could see the hoards of people moving towards the stage as the lights dim and the music starts.

"who are you?"

you hear a voice behind you, and you turn around, met with a pretty brunette girl. she looks at you curiously as she walks over and stands next to you.

you look up and the girl who walked over next to you, returning the curious look.

“i’m y/n…” you say, wondering who this girl was and why she was talking to you.

“ohhh” she smiles in realization and stands next to you, looking at the crowd as well. “i’m amelia, niall’s girlfriend. harry was bragging earlier that he found a hot girl on the street and we didn’t believe him.”

you nod and smile at the mention of their disbelief. “yeah, he ran into me on the street this morning- well, actually, i ran into him, quite literally”

amelia nods and grins as she watches the guys on stage. “yeah, that sounds about right.”

she turns to look at you again, still smiling. “i heard you broke the infamous cd…”

you nod, a little embarrassed at the mention of the broken cd.

"yeah…. that happened. it didn’t happen to be important or anything… did it? harry didn’t tell me, but i felt really guilty about it.”

amelia smiles at your question and shrugs. “all the guys call it “the infamous cd” because they’re dorks. it’s just a lucky charm that harry carries around with him everywhere."

you sigh in relief and nod, a little glad you didn't actually ruin anything important. "lucky cd, huh? does it work?"

amelia laughs and shakes her head. “that’s what niall says - apparently it’s what got them their first record deal”

“really?” you ask, looking out at harry who was about to go on stage. “he didn’t tell me that. i feel even worse now…”

amelia shrugs and smiles again, looking amused. “don’t worry about it. harry’s a little dramatic, he just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

there was a certain air of excitement in the crowded room, and the buzz of people talking around you slowly started to disappear as the music got louder. you leaned against the side of the the wall, peering into the crowded room as harry and his band stepped on stage.

the concert starts, people singing and screaming along to the lyrics. each song had deep bass, guitar solos, and of course harry singing. did you feel a little bit stupid for not recognizing a guy that was apparently famous on the street? yeah.

the concert continued like that for about an hour, harry’s voice filling up the whole room. he had a certain stage presence to him, something about his charisma that drew you in and captured your attention.

"She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect And all the boys, they were saying they were into it Such a pretty face on a pretty neck”

as harry sings the lyrics to his next song, your eyes widen in realization. oh… you DID know their songs.

you watch the rest of the concert dumbfounded by the fact that you didn't realize that harry was in one the most popular bands in the modern century. you were joking before, but, he really was a rockstar.

amelia notices your look and smiles a little, leaning over. “they’re good right?”

you nod in agreement, your eyes glued to the stage. “yeah, they’re amazing… i didn’t…i didn’t think he was famous when we met…”

amelia smirked a little as she watched your eyes follow Harry around the stage. “yeah, he’s really humble. you’ll never find him flaunting it. he’s a pretty good guy”

as the concert comes to a close, the crowd starts to cheer and scream for a final song.

harry, who was now glistening with sweat and grinning like an idiot, looked straight into the side stage where you were standing and nodded for you to follow him backstage.

amelia smiles and looks at you before you walk away. “well it was nice to meet you, i’m sure i’ll see you around sometime.”

“yeah, you too” you smile back and walk away from amelia, following him behind the side stage into the messy back rooms. you could still hear the crowd of people screaming and cheering just outside of the door.

harry was standing there, panting as security guards were directing people around, still grinning and high on adrenaline from the performance.

he turns to look at you and grins again. “so, love, what did ya think?”

you smile and nod, walking over to him. “you should’ve told me you were famous, i feel like a dumbass.”

harry shakes his head and smiles, wiping his face with a towel. “nah i’m not that famous yet, maybe one day.”

he smiles and looks down at you for a second before speaking again. “did you want to go get pizza? i’m starving and i would die for a greasy slice.”

you nod and return the smile, leaning against the wall next to him. pizza sounded good after sitting under those bright lights in a crowded room for an hour.

"sure. lead the way, rockstar"

harry hums and smiles, he slips a hoodie over his head and yells something out to the other guys before turning back to you.

“alright, let’s go pretty girl.”

he nods for you to follow him, walking out of the back door of the venue and onto the lightly rainy streets of new york.

you follow him out and shiver as the cold air hits you. you weren’t sure if it was from the weather or the fact that harry called you “pretty girl”.

harry pulled the hood up on his hoodie and started walking down the sidewalk. he was still grinning like an idiot. “so…. talk to me… what do you do? i could tell by all the clothes from this morning it had something to do with fashion.”

you nod as you walk with him and shiver again. harry seems to notice and moves closer to you, your shoulders brushing as the two of you walk.

"yeah, i'm in fashion design." you say with a smile. "it's a pain in the ass, but it gives me some sort of purpose. hopefully after i finish this internship i can get an actual job for prada, at least i hope."

harry grins and nods as he looks over at you. “no kidding? i guess it fits. you’re like… really good at dressin’, and all that.”

he looks up at the sky as the rain starts to come down harder. he leads you down the street towards a pizza shop. the streets are dark other than a few people leaving clubs or taxis driving around.

you smile a little as harry compliments you, kind of embarrassed.

the two of you reach the pizza shop and harry holds the door open for you, still smiling. inside the small shop the air is warm and smells like bread and grease.

harry walks up to the counter and looks at the menu on the wall. “alright, love. what do you want?”

you look up at the menu before walking to the counter and standing next to harry."hmm… i'll just have a pepperoni slice and a coke"

the man behind the counter nods and looks up at harry, as he also orders him a few slices of pizza and a drink. harry pays for the food before walking over to a table in the corner of the small shop and sitting down, still looking cheerful.

"so prada, huh? so they've got you runnin' coffees and doin' menial work then?" he sighs as he stretches in the chair before looking at you again.

you sigh and smile a little, sitting down as well. “yeah but everyone’s gotta start somewhere.”

harry nods and smiles. “yeah, i know what ya mean. i was broke for years until someone finally picked us up.” he takes a big bite of his pizza as you also start eating.

you smile and takes a bite of your pizza. “so you’re british? are you in new york just for a show or did you move here?”

harry nods as he finishes chewing, he picks up his drink and takes a sip as he replies.

“i just moved here last year."

you look at him curiously as you take a sip of your own drink. "how do you like it? do you get homesick at all?"

harry shrugs as he swallows another bite of his pizza.

“it’s alright. new york is way bigger than where i’m from. there’s no getting homesick when i constantly talk to my mum and sister back at home, i don’t have time to miss it.”

he grins playfully and takes another bite of pizza before speaking again. “i like it here. there’s a lot to do. the pizza is good, there’s pretty girls everywhere running into me on the streets…”

you smile and shake your head, holding up the shard of cd from your pocket. amelia had told you that it held some signifigance for their band, and you didn’t want to take that away, even if it was broken.

“yeah about that, you should take this back.”

harry smiles and shakes his head, taking a bite of his second slice. he leans back against the chair, looking at you with an amused expression. “nah it’s alright, i still have the other chunk.”

you look at him hesitantly for a minute before nodding and putting the broken cd back in your pocket. “okay…”

harry swallows the pizza and watches as you finish before speaking again. “so how did you like the show?”

you look up at him and smile. in truth, you loved the show. they sounded good, harry had a great stage presence, and you recognized a few of their songs. “i really liked it, you did a good job. i recognized that one song… um… what is it called? the one about having babies?”

harry laughs and takes a drink of his soda, nodding. he runs his hand through his slightly wet curls from the rain and smiles. “ah yeah… that would be “kiwi” you like it?”

you nod, smiling at harry with your chin resting in your hand. "yeah, it was good." you take a bite of pizza, looking down at the table for a moment, then looking back up at him. "i didn’t think i would like it as much as i did. i’m not usually much of a rock girl, but i had fun."

you think for a moment, then smile sheepishly. "it's mostly pop stuff, like beyonce or christina aguilera. i told you i'm not much of a rock girl, but you sounded good."

it was embarrassing, he was a rockstar and you were casually admitting to listening to pop music, but at the same time it wasn’t. harry was very easy going, and very easy to talk to. he always had a smile and always knew what to say. it's comforting.

harry grins at you, finding it cute that you listen to pop music. "nothing wrong with that, they're both pretty damn talented, not just in their songs but their styles as well. if i could pull of low waisted jeans i would totally wear them"

you can't help but giggle a little as harry mentions low waisted jeans. you can picture him in those kind of jeans, the tattoos along his stomach showing slightly above the low waist… yeah… you wouldn’t mind that at all. (ew shut up shut up)

"well, it's mainly pop, but sometimes i listen to rap. it all depends on what mood i'm in"

harry smiles at your giggles and looks you over. he finishes the last bite of his pizza and wipes his face and hands with a napkin.

"yeah? okay… so i know you like pop music, you work in fashion, you're very sweet, we’re practically best friends now."

you smile and roll your eyes at his remark. "best friends? really? i don't know anything about you other than you’re british and you sing. cmon, tell me something."

harry’s eyes widen a little, he pretends to be offended by your statement and places his hand over his heart as he speaks. he is just so cute.

“woah woah woah, we’ve only known eachother for a couple of hours, don’t rush me love” he grins jokingly before continuing. “alright, let’s see… what do you wanna know?”

harry grins and looks at you, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his head in his hand, his other hand placed on the table.

“favorite album of all time huh? that’s an easy one. it’s probably… abbey road by the beatles. i know it’s the basic answer but i can’t help it, i grew up on the beatles. for favorite color… i guess black. i wear a lot of black, in case you hadn’t noticed…”

he grins as he says he last part jokingly.

you smile and nod, taking a sip of your drink. other than the owners, you two were the only people in the pizza shop left. even though you’ve only known him for about 10 hours, and it’s midnight, you felt oddly comfortable with him. you pretend to think for a minute before speaking again.

“okay… since we’re basically playing 20 questions now… do you collect anything?”

harry smiles and leans back in his chair, stretching, looking up, and thinking. “hmmm..”

he grins and looks at you. “yeah i do actually, i’ve collected vinyl ever since i was a teenager. it’s kind of my thing. i have a whole room full of them back at my house and i’m still collecting them.”

you raise your eyebrows, slightly surprised, and smile again. “really? that’s cool. i didn’t think anyone collected vinyls anymore, besides hipsters who listen to the doors.”

harry grins and shakes his head. “it’s the best way to listen to music, it’s got an authentic tone. you can tell a record comes a lot more from the heart than a song on the radio. you should come over sometime. i’ve got a lot of really old, rare ones i can show you”

you smile a little and look down at the table. you had only met him a couple of hours ago and he was already inviting you over to his house, to see his vinyl collection. it wasn’t weird though, he was a very friendly person and you didn’t think he was asking you over for any other reason than to show you his collection.

“yeah… i can come over to see your vinyl collection sometime, that would be cool”

harry grins at you and nods. “great”

he glances up at a clock on the wall, noticing the time. “damn, you don’t have work tomorrow do you?”

you look over at the clock on the wall. 4 am. damn. “yeah i do actually. i’m supposed to be there at 8am”

you would get around two hours of sleep if you went home right now, not enough to function as a normal human the next day, but that’s prada for you.

harry looks at you suprised. “damn, 8am? they make you come in at 8am? i thought you fashion girls didn’t wake up until noon.” he jokes

“yeah maybe if i was a model, but i’m not,” you roll your eyes at his remark but you can’t hide a smile. “they don’t care that the only thing keeping you going at 8am is coffee and cigarettes.”

harry laughs and looks at you. “coffee and cigarettes… you have the same diet as me.”

you smile at his remark, leaning on the table with your head in your hand, mirroring his position. “coffee, cigarettes, and ramen noodles… the breakfast of champions.”

harry smiles and nods. “it’s a healthy lifestyle for sure”

he checks the time again, noting how late it is before speaking again. “so… tell me, on a scale of 1-10 how reckless are you?”

you look at him and smile. “uh… i don’t know. it really depends. i’d say i’m kind of reckless. if this is your way of asking me if i’ll ditch work and come over to your house i don’t think so, even for a cute british rockstar.”

harry laughs and leans a little closer to you. “aw that’s a shame, i was hoping you’d ditch work to listen to my music and see my collection”

he smiles at you and speaks again, getting a devious look in his eye. “cmon… just stop by?”

you roll your eyes playfully at his remark. “cmon rock star, you’ve only known me for a few hours, don’t go being too hopeful now”

despite your reply, you were actually very much considering going over to his house to see his collection. he was hot, nice, and you were tired as hell.

harry grins at your response and leans closer to you, looking into your eyes. “cmon… i promise i won’t keep you long, i just want to show you my vinyls”

his eyes darted toward the clock and then back to you. “please? one hour, tops.”

you look into his big green eyes, you were already tempted. then you look down at the clock. 3:53am.

“ugh…” then back up at him. “an hour, tops?”

harry grins, already sensing that he had convinced you, and nods. “one hour, pinkie promise.”

he smiles and intertwines your pinkies which makes you smile. you were either going to go home and get 2 hours of very little sleep… or you could go with the attractive British rockstar and at least have fun for a little while. who needed sleep anyways?

you look down at your pinkies, smiling as he intertwines them together. you couldn’t believe you were about to do this with a guy you had only met this morning. but yet, here you were.

“okay fine… one hour, that’s it”

harry grins widely and laughs a little, knowing he had won and you were coming with him. he lets go of your pinkie and looks at your expression, watching you think to yourself, probably thinking about if this was a good idea.

“perfect, cmon” he stands up and tosses your trash away, thanking the restaurant owner, before helping you up and walking out the door. there is still some rain, and the air is damp, making it misty.

you walk outside with harry into the cool, misty air. the city was oddly quiet for it being new york, but it was 3:55am so it wasn’t surprising.

you weren’t sure how you felt about this. you’d just met this guy and here you were ditching sleep to go to his house and see his vinyl collection, it definitely seemed crazy. but at the same time… he was cute, and nice and you really did want to see his collection.

harry is smiling at you, seeming to read your facial expressions and your body language, like he was trying to guess what you were thinking. he could see that you were excited yet at the same time nervous about this whole thing.

he looks at you and smiles. “come on, my apartment is just down the block”

he motions for you to follow him and starts walking, sticking with his usual fast pace for his long legs.

you nod and start walking next to him. the rain wasn’t heavy, but it was a slight drizzle and got you slightly wet as you walked.

it was weird. this whole thing was weird. you had only known harry for a few hours and already you were going back to his place to look at his vinyl collection, when in reality you should’ve been at home asleep, preparing for work tomorrow. but you weren’t, you were following a rockstar through the rain.

you smile and look over at him as you walk down the street. “be honest with me… how often do you do this with girls?”

harry glances over at you and smiles, noticing the quizzical look on your face. he grins a little as he responds. “you’re joking, right? i do this with girls all the time. i take them home to my apartment to see my vinyl collection after they go to my concerts.”

he grins jokingly and glances over at you, seeing you roll your eyes. “alright, alright… not that often. i’m assuming you’re asking me about my hookup habits, and honestly, i don’t take people to my house if i’m going to hook up with them. i just do it in the bathroom or wherever we are.”

you raise your eyebrows, and smile. “oh wow, so tell me, are groupies real? do you really have girls following your band around, or is that an 80s myth?”

you were honestly slightly suprised he didn’t take people home to his house. in the short amount of time you’ve known each other, that doesn’t seem like something he would do.

harry laughs a little and shakes his head as he walks, still having to slow down a bit so you can keep up with his long legs.

“that’s like… one part myth and one part real. yeah of course girls like us, but we don’t just have them following us around everywhere, that's a bit extreme”

he smiles and runs his hand through his wet curls as you walk down the street together. “i’ve had girls follow me home a few times after shows and stuff, but they aren’t really what they’re cracked up to be in the movies”

“oh really?”

“mhm you’re much prettier.”

“yeah sure…”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 30 minutes later ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you and harry are laying on the floor of his music room, listening to a pink floyd album he put on. the needle scratched back and forth on the vinyl, the music filling the room as the two of you lay on the floor. harry had a fuzzy carpet on the floor that was fun to run your fingers through as you lay there listening.

the two of you are, both of you laying on your backs, staring up at his ceiling and listening to the music. you had expected him to be more hyper and excited, but he was actually very calm and… sweet?

harry was laying with his hands behind his head, his hair fanned out around his head as he stared at the ceiling. a small smile was on his lips as he listened to the music, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying this.

he glances over at you, seeing you looking at the ceiling, smiling lightly as the music plays. “what do you think of this album? it’s one of my favorites”

you look over at him and look into his green eyes. god he was attractive.

you listen to the music for a moment before replying. “it’s good… like i said… i’m a pop girl, but this album is…. pretty? if that makes sense, the sounds are pretty.”

he laughs a little, finding it cute that you called the music pretty. he looks back up at the ceiling, his smile getting wider as he responded. “yeah, pink floyd’s music is pretty…”

he glances over at you again, speaking teasingly. “you’re kind of pretty too.”

your cheeks turn pink and you can feel your heart rate slightly increase when he said you were pretty. why were you getting flustered? you had barely known this guy for 12 hours and already he was calling you pretty.

you roll over onto your side, laying on your stomach, looking at him, still blushing a little. “kind of?”

harry smirks at you as you turn over on your stomach to look at him, your hair hanging down.

he rolls over on his stomach, mimicking your position to look at you, his smirk still on his face as he replies. his head propped up on his hand so he can be face-to-face with you. “yeah very pretty”

you feel your cheeks get pinker as he compliments you, but you try to remain casual and not get flustered. it was hard though, he was laying facing you right now, and the look in his eyes as he looked at you made it hard to focus.

you shake your head as he says you’re pretty, jokingly rolling your eyes at him. “yeah, yeah you’re pretty too.”

harry gasps dramatically and looks at you with a grin. “oh i’m flattered, darling.”

you smile and nod, looking into his pretty green eyes. “yeah you should be.”

he grins again with the smile that makes his eyes crinkle. please kill me he’s adorable- the album stops as the record meets the end, and harry stands up. he walks over to the record stand and changes the record out. “are you flirting with me?”

you sit up, still sitting on the floor of the music room, watching him change the record, then processing what he just said. you smile and shrug, bringing your knees to your chest as you sit on his shaggy carpet. this room was so comfortable, like the rest of his apartment. he had little trinkets everywhere, pillows and bankets in every corner, and warm lighting from his string lights filled each dark area.

“oh… so you invite me to your concert, take me to get pizza, invite me to your house, and I’M the one that’s flirting?”

harry laughs a little, turning back around after placing a Jeff Buckley record on the machine. he walks back over to the carpet and sits down right next to you. he looks at you with his bright green eyes, smiling as he speaks. “mmm, you have a point”

he reaches behind him and grabs multiple pillows and blankets. “alright settle in, love, this is the prettiest album yet.”

you smile as he grabs pillows and blankets from behind him and starts handing them to you. so he was going to get comfortable too.

you take the pillows and blankets from him and start situating them on the ground next to harry so you can lay down. “alright, if this album isn’t pretty, this is the first and last time we’re hanging out.”

harry laughs and smiles again, loving the way you banter with him. he grabs his own blankets and pillows and gets comfortable next to you on the floor.

he smiles and lays down, getting comfortable under his blankets. “trust me, jeff buckley’s album is absolutely beautiful. it’s gonna break you, make you cry, throw up, all that good stuff.”

you smile as he jokingly describes the album, trying to imagine what about it would cause you to throw up. you lay down in your own little nest of blankets and pillows, getting comfy in the dimly lit room, the only light coming from string lights hanging across the ceiling and the moon shining in from the window.

you look over at a comfy looking harry who’s smiling at you, seemingly more relaxed and sleepy laid out on the floor.

it only takes three minutes for the two of you to completely pass out on the floor of his music room.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 8 hours later ｡⁺˚｡⋆

you slowly wake up, confused for a moment and wondering where you were. but then you remember that you had fallen asleep in harry’s music room, and now the morning sun was shining through the window, illuminating the room and waking you up.

when you open your eyes, you see harry still sound asleep next to you, curled up under his many blankets and pillows, looking adorable as he breathed softly. it also reminds you that you’re a complete idiot for letting yourself fall asleep to a complete stranger.

you lay there for a moment, admiring the way harry peacefully slept next to you. he looked like an actual rock star, his hair fanned out on the pillows, his tattoos peaking out through through the sleeves and collar of his shirt. you were still baffled at the fact that less than 24 hours ago you didn’t even know he existed, and now here you were.

you look over at him again, studying his sleeping face.

the room is still and quiet as you look at his calm sleeping face, your eyes roaming over his long lashes, his sharp jawline, his plump lips. what is wrong with you. you’re laying there watching a sleeping man, a man you had only known for a day.

you look away from him, trying to remind yourself that this is just a man you met on the street and not a dreamy love interest in a romantic movie. you sigh in frustration as you remember that you had slept through work. hopefully phoebe would cover for you….

you sit, up rolling your shoulders, they were sore from laying on the floor all night. you grab your phone from your pocket to check the time. great. you had slept through work, it was already 10AM. you also had several missed texts from phoebe and your boss wondering where the hell you were. this is gonna be hard to explain.

whatever. that’s for another time when you’re more awake and less infatuated with a British man you hardly know.

you rub your face sleepily, yawning softly as harry starts to wakeup.

harry starts to shift around beside you, making noise and groaning softly as he starts waking up. he sits up slowly, looking around the room, taking in his surroundings. he runs a hand through his messy hair, then glances over at you.

“morning, pretty girl” he says in a groggy morning voice, grinning at you as he stretches his arms over his head.

your heart does a little jump as you hear his morning voice, which you’re starting to decide is a million times sexier than his normal voice.

”morning, pretty boy” you respond, stretching your own arms over your head and letting out a yawn.

you look down and notice you’re still wearing the uncomfortable mini skirt and tanktop from last night. “do you have something i can change into? i do NOT want to do the walk of shame back to my apartment in this.”

harry smiles as he sees you sit up and stretch, he also notices you’re still wearing the clothes from last night… and that the tiny skirt and tiny tank are a sight to see first thing in the morning.

he shakes his head, trying to bring himself back to earth, and responds. “yeah ‘course. i’m sure i’ve got some clothes that will fit you” he glances down at your clothes again before standing up.

“although i’m not sure it can be considered the walk of shame if we didn’t do anything shameful, yet.” he smirks and walks out of the music room and down the hall towards his bedroom.

you roll your eyes, but smile a little at his last comment, knowing it was true. sure, you’d slept in the same room, but you hadn’t done anything shameful… yet. hopefully you wouldn’t end up doing anything shameful, this guy was turning your brain into mush.

you crawl out of your pile of blankets and pillows, then get up and follow him out the room and down the hall to his bedroom.

you both walk into his bedroom, which has a similar look to his music room. it’s not a huge bedroom, it has a queen sized bed, a large dresser, and a door that leads to the bathroom.

he goes over to the dresser and starts rifling through the drawers, looking for something you can change into. he looks over his shoulder and looks at your outfit again. “can’t lie, i like the outfit, but you’re probably not very comfortable in it.”

he smiles and tosses you light washed jeans and a band tee. “you’re a fashion girl, i’m sure you can make anything look good.”

you caught the pants and tshirt he threw at you, holding them up to look at them. he was right, you might be able to make this look good, these jeans were cute and the band tee looked vintage.

you smile. “i’ll attempt to look good in your clothes.” you glance toward the bathroom. “do you mind if i change in there?”

he nods. “yeah, ‘course love. bathroom’s right in there” he motions to a door across the room.

after about 30 minutes of getting ready, arguing with harry about needing to go to work, and eventually caving because… well beacause he’s hot…. you and harry were walking down the street towards a coffee shop.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ 30 minutes earlier ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“no harry! i had fun, but i need to go to work and apologize for sleeping in.” you shake your head as you stand in the bathroom, washing your face of the makeup from the night before.

“uh no you don’t”

you roll your eyes and look back at the mucisian. “uh yes i do.”

“why? you’re already six hours late, might as well just tell them you’re sick.” he smiles like a teenager, standing behind you in the bathroom as you got ready. it’s weird, being this comfortable around someone after you’ve only known them for 24 hours.

“yeah but-”

“no buts”

“yes buts! i have responsibilities.”

“i’ll buy you donuts and we can hang out more! that sounds like way more fun whatever fashion bs they would have you doing.”

“…”

“…”

“fine.”

“… :)”

“stop smiling, dumbass.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

harry is walking down the sidewalk next to you, taking a bite of his donut and sipping his black coffee, watching you as you both walk. you look cute in the clothes he gave you, cute and relaxed. he loves the way the jeans are cuffed at the bottom and the faded band tee fits you perfectly.

he glances at you, smiling as he speaks. “see? ditching work was so much better. you can have more fun with me, instead of working in a boring old office”

you roll your eyes as he smiles and speaks. “yeah, because hanging out with the random man i met yesterday is so much more fun than the job that pays my rent and feeds me”

you try to hide the smile that creeps up on your face, you have no idea why you’re falling so effortlessly into this banter with him, but it just felt natural.

harry grins as you respond, loving the way you banter with him. he can’t stop smiling whenever he sees that pretty smile appear on your face.

he nods jokingly as you mention the job that feeds you and pays your rent. “yeah exactly! who cares if you don’t get paid this month, im sure being unemployed is a completely valid excuse for missing work!”

he takes another sip of his coffee, looking at you. “i mean we’re basically having a date, which is way more entertaining than whatever you were doing at work”

you roll your eyes again, smiling as he teases you about having a “date”. it isn’t a date, its just the two of you hanging out, like friends. yeah…

“sure, this is a date” you sarcastically respond, taking a bite of your donut. “a date consisting of two people ditching work and eating breakfast food. don’t you have a concert later? you should be practicing.”

he grins a little as you sarcastically agree that this is a “date”, that means you’ve acknowledged it. “yeah, i should be, but i’d rather hang out with you.”

harry stops and grabs a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and taking a long drag. “besides, i can practice later. today is our day. i’m marking it in my calender, october 16th, 2003, the day we became best friends.”

you try to suppress your smile as you hear him say “our day”. he’s way too charming for his own good, you think to yourself.

you watch as he lights his cigarette and puffs on it, the smoke billowing from his pouty lips. a little part of you hates how you think he looks hot as he stands there smoking, but you try to ignore it.

you roll your eyes a little, trying to pretend this isn’t affecting you. “yeah, us ditching work and eating donuts is sure the start of a great friendship”

he smiles again as he sees you roll your eyes. cute. he thinks to himself as he watches you eat your donut in small bites.

he lets out a puff of smoke as he brings the cigarette to his lips again, looking at you. “you say that like ditching work and hanging out isn’t the best bonding activity for the start of a friendship.”

he grins as he starts walking again, glancing over at you. “we’ve had a jam session, we’ve shared sleeping quarters, and now a proper meal. what more could we possibly bond over?”

you shake your head and smile a little as he responds.

“well you’re wrong,” you say. “i’ll do anything for donuts.”

you take another bite of the donut and glance over at him as he walks next to you, watching his curls bounce as he moves. it really was a good day, you would never say it out loud, but a ditch day with him was the most therapeutic thing you’d done in months,

the two of you walk through central park for a few more minutes before reaching a bench. you sit down and sip your coffee quietly, warming up a little bit.

he laughs and shakes his head as you mention you would do anything for a donut. “yeah yeah, admit that i’m right.”

he follows you over and sits on the bench, letting out a tiny cough as he flicks his cigarette into the trash. he glances over at you as you drink your coffee, you look cute sitting there sipping coffee in his clothes.

he plops down on the bench next to you as he leans back, letting his body rest comfortably. “you know, you’re very relaxing, it’s nice.”

you glance over at him as you sit down, raising your eyebrows. “i’m relaxing?”

you look at him incredulously. “i’m pretty sure you’re the one with the relaxing british accent”

he grins a little as you say he’s the one who’s relaxing. he smirks a little. “just because i’ve got an english accent doesn’t mean im relaxing. i could be annoying, ya know”

you laugh and roll your eyes. “oh please, everyone likes an english accent. they’re soothing” you say this with a small smile, knowing damn well you love his accent.

he smiles and looks over at you through his sunglasses, he just felt so comfortable at the moment. “well i’m glad you like my accent.”

you roll your eyes and laugh a little at his comment. his accent was nice. no, it was more than that; it was sexy, especially when he sang or spoke softly.

he looks relaxed as he sits there on the bench next to you. you watch as he closes his eyes behind his glasses, taking in the cool breeze.

you sit back against the bench, watching people walk around the park, kids playing, dogs running, adults working out. it was all very peaceful.

“thanks for not being creepy last night or anything…”

he opens his eyes and glances over at you as you lean back against the bench as well. “course love. i wasn’t gonna try anything, you just looked like you needed a good sleep. but of course, i’m happy to do anything when you’re awake.”

he smiles teasingly and leans back against the bench with his eyes closed.

the next hour is spent with the two of you walking around the park mindlessly, talking about random things. harry told you about england, you told him about your job and your friends. he told you about his bandmates, you told him about your cat. it was the most relaxing day you could remember having for a long time.

“but yeah my cat is the most an-”

suddenly harry stops walking and looks at you. without any warning or hesitation, he gently grabs your face and pulls you towards him, planting a kiss against your lips.

your eyes widen in surprise as he kisses you. you’re in shock, freezing up for a second as you feel his lips against yours.

the kiss is gentle, but there’s a firmness from harry’s part that makes it feel like he’s been wanting to do this for hours. he brushes his fingers through your hair as he kisses you, bringing you closer to him as he does.

you’re still shocked, but you instinctively begin to kiss him back. the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair, the feeling of his lips moving against yours, all of it makes you lose your senses. you bring your hands up and grip onto his arms, holding on tightly as you kiss him back.

“this is stupid and you can laugh at me, but i think i’m more comfortable with you after a day together, then some people i’ve known my entire life.”

you feel your stomach flutter with butterflies as you look up at him.

“yeah i,” you start before hesitating, “i feel the same way.” that’s an understatement

he smiles gently as you say you feel the same way, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. he scoops you up, pulling you so you’re legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s holding his arms under your bottom to support you.

“yeah?”

you wrap your arms around his neck as he holds you up, looking at him. “yeah, it’s,” stupid, crazy, insane, “cool.”

harry grins and kisses you again before he starts walking down the street, running a bit to make you laugh, until he finds an empty ally. he pushes you against the wall with your legs wrapped around his as he presses his lips to yours.

as he presses his lips to yours, the world around you melts away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in this moment. the cool brick wall behind you is a gentle pressure against your back, a reminder of the physical world that's still spinning, even as your senses are consumed by harry's kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, and you feel your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him closer.

the sound of the city fades into the background, replaced by the gentle hum of harry's contented sigh as he deepens the kiss. his fingers dig gently into the flesh of your bottom, holding you up, supporting you as you wrap yourself around him.

as harry's lips move against yours, he mutters "so. fucking. pretty." in between kisses, desperate to get closer to you. his body presses against yours, the heat of his chest radiating through your clothes.

his hands roam over your body, gripping your waist, running up your back, and threading through your hair. the feeling of his fingers in your hair feels amazing, and you can't help but moan softly into the kiss.

harry pulls away and looks down at you with a flushed expression.

“back to my place?”

“yes. now.”

˖⁺‧₊⟡₊˚⊹

oops that was really long, i got caught up. this isn’t really proofread so sorry if there were mistakes. this is literally my favorite story i’ve ever written, so i hope you guys liked it too! (requests are open)

-💋

[corazondebeskar-reads]

get some on my love

QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader

my masterlist | joel fic recs

This is for @justagalwhowrites' Birthday Celebration for Joel. I picked the prompts for QZ!Joel and breeding kink. It, uh. It got away with me. Title from "Gasoline" by Seether because that's what made this get so feral. Please read the warnings.

dedicated to @covetyou bcus it's your tumblrversary bb! and also because of SWAT, the ultimate slutty qz joel fic that lives in my head and pays rent

words: 1.6k

summary: You visit Joel Miller to get what you need.

warnings: dub-con, dubcon due to sex in exchange for drugs, and he kind of springs the breeding kink on her (but there's not a risk), abuse of prescription medications, QZ!Joel Miller, dealer!Joel Miller, smuggler!Joel Miller, filthy!Joel Miller, breeding kink, creampie, menstrual sex, inappropriate uses of period blood, spitting, pussy pronouns (she/her), vulgar language, god i don't even know it's just nasty and they like it, kind of hate fucking, no y/n, no betas no proofreading no nothing lol

dividers by @saradika-graphics

also on ao3

“Well, well. Look who’s come crawlin’ back,” Joel drawls when he opens the door. 

You scowl. “You gonna let me in or not?”

He leans against the frame, a lazy smirk curling. “Gee, I don’t know. You had some mighty strong things to say ‘bout me last time.” He does step back, though, ushering you in. 

“Pretty sure you said you were never gonna look at my ugly mug again,” he adds as he shuts the door behind you. 

“Yeah, well,” you mutter. 

He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Yeah, well,” he mocks. “Well, what? No one else want that sloppy pussy as payment?”

“You like my pussy, jackass,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says, cornering you against the door, your back hitting it with a thump. He leers, leaning in. “You know why it’s so sloppy? ‘Cause I fuckin’ ruined it, and you loved it.”

You scowl again, turning your head sharply to the side so you don’t have to look at his smug smirk. The worst part is how right he is. 

“Look,” you mutter, heat rising to your cheeks, “I-I can’t pay today. But I need them, bad. I’ll… I’ll make it up to you.”

It nearly kills you to say. The only thing worse than dealing with Joel Miller is owing Joel Miller. 

“Whaddya mean you can’t pay today? Cunt closed for construction or somethin’?”

You shove him away roughly, ducking out of his grasp to stalk into the living room. “No, dumbass, I’m… bleedin’, you know.”

His responding grin is feral and full of teeth. “I don’t give a shit. Go bend over the bathroom sink.”

“Are you fuckin' serious?”

“You want the fuckin’ pills or not?”

You could scream. Of course you do. There’s not a part of your body that doesn’t hurt. It’s settled into every joint and crevice, an ache you can’t stretch out or shake loose. 

You’d know. You’ve tried. But you’re losing sleep, and the pain makes you too nauseous to eat. His drugs will only take the edge off for so long, but god, you’d do nearly anything for a few hours’ respite. 

“Fine,” you whisper finally, and make your way to the apartment’s tiny three-piece. 

He follows, watching you with amusement. “Strip,” he says. 

You glare, and he shrugs. 

“Or don’t. But I ain’t responsible for what happens to your clothes.”

Oh, fuck him. Fuck him. But you strip—all the way, even though you could have left your top on, but because mother nature has you on her shit list, your usual pain is compounded when you’re menstruating. And when you’re ovulating. Really, so many women don’t even have a fucking cycle anymore from all the stress and malnutrition, but noooo, you were cursed with a fertile fucking uterus. 

The point was that your titties were sore and aching, and the thought of his warm hands groping and pawing at them sounded nice, so off goes your shirt.

He chuckles when he enters the bathroom. “Well, look at that. Eager?”

“Hurry up,” you snap. “It’s cold, and there’s gonna be a mess.”

“Gonna be a mess either way,” he taunts, his hands rough against your hips.

And ain’t that the kicker? There’s gonna be a mess. Your cunt is already sore, and he’s gonna leave a trail of destruction in his wake. 

“Don’t look so grossed out, sugar,” he says, cupping your breasts and looking at you in the mirror. “It’s all natural. Plus, I gotta say, it’s been a long time since I got to do this.”

You’re busy meeting his eyes in the mirror and pulling a face, not catching his last words. He rolls and pinches at your tender nipples, but it’s the kind of pain that sits on the right side of pleasure. As expected, his meaty hands grope unmercifully at your breasts, and you moan in relief at the free massage.

“That’s it. That’s what I like to hear. You ready for me, huh? That greedy pussy o’ yours ready?”

“Uh-huh,” you say distractedly. “Wait—”

“I didn’t forget,” he murmurs in your ear. “Open.”

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out. He sets a round, white pill on it and turns your head with a firm grip on your chin, his spit landing right on the pill.

You swallow and avert your eyes as he watches your reflection.

“Get on with it,” you rasp.

One hand wanders down between your thighs and strokes through the folds, working you open with two thick fingers scissoring side to side. He doesn’t spend long there, dragging them up to rub at your clit for a moment.

“Make some fuckin’ noise; I can’t tell if you’re wet or not with all this goin’ on,” he grumbles, withdrawing his hand and showing you the slick blood coating it.

You wince, and he laughs. “Y’ain’t scared of your own period, are ya?”

“Fuck off, ‘course I’m not. Doesn’t mean I wanna look at it.”

He grins. The expression is always unnatural on him and usually heralds something vulgar.

You’re not wrong. He brings his hand up to cup your breast, leaving a smear of blood on your tit. 

“Somethin’ kinda hot about it, don’tcha think?” he muses.

“If you say so,” you mutter, but you can’t look away. It’s striking, blood against your skin that isn’t borne of violence.

The thick tip of his cock interrupts your thoughts as he pushes down on your shoulder. You bend, gripping the sides of the vanity as he buries himself inside with one slow thrust.

He groans, gripping hard on your shoulder. “S’better than lube.”

“You’re so gross,” you say, shaking your head.

“Yeah? Then why’re you clenchin’ around me like a goddamn vice, huh?”

“You always talk this much when you fuck, or am I special?”

“Oh, sugar, don’t flatter yourself,” he says with a slap on your ass. “Y’ain’t special.”

“You—ahh—you hate-fuck all your customers?”

He snorts. “You ain’t even special enough to hate, honey. And you can hate me all you like, but we both know you’re gonna keep comin’ back.”

As you scowl up at him in the mirror, you almost wish looks could kill. But he’s right. He’d be no good to you dead because no other dealer in this godforsaken QZ will dose you in exchange for sex.

As it is, he only lets you once a week. You need more than that? Gotta pay like everyone else. Even when you can afford it, you find yourself back here or on your knees or however he wants you every fuckin’ Friday, because a free pill is a free pill. It’s 3-4 hours you can nap without nearly killin’ yourself to afford it.

Today’s pill hasn’t begun to set in yet, but that’s the other thing about Joel. He’s good at making you forget.

Real good.

His hands are on your body, roughly gentle. He’s not careful with his touch, but not careless, either. He wants you to come, wants you to shake and fall apart on his dick, so he can flash you that little self-satisfied smirk borne of bravado he’s rightly earned. 

And you do. You come for him, with his hands on your breasts and your clit. You tremble and moan and your pussy tries to stake a claim on his cock, clenching and hoping to never let go. But it will, and you will. In the end, you always let go.

He’s a different kind of beast tonight. Panting and grunting in your ear, teeth on your neck, sweat dripping and blending with yours. After he’s rung pleasure from you, he settles one hand on your hip and another on your shoulder and ruts into you like a jackhammer. Like he can’t get deep enough, can’t stop until he’s carved a spot for him within you.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters, pushing you down further. “Fuuuck, darlin’, you want this, huh? You want me to fill you up?”

“Wh-what?” you gasp, air knocked from you with each punch of his cock against your cervix.

“Gonna fill you up good, gonna—nnng— gonna make it stick.”

You reach back and smack him. “The fuck are you—” 

But he doesn’t let you finish. He holds on tight and grinds his dick deep. “That greedy pussy, sugar, she fuckin’ wants it. Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till she’s full o’ me. And you’re gonna take it, right?”

You whimper, holding tight to the sink while he loses his fucking mind or whatever is happening. You don’t know. It feels too good to question.

“Thas’ it,” he rambles. “Gonna look so good, stuffed up, and ev’ryone—everyone—will know you let me fuckin’ breed you.”

Oh god. It shouldn’t be hot. Those words should be stopping your heart, you should be pushing him away, but your dumb cunt has a mind of its own and holds tight to him, each thrust of his cock squelching as you come around him again. 

“Jesus, baby, it’s been too long, too long since I got to fill up a cunt like yours,” he groans, hips stuttering, “oh shit, take it—fuckin’ take it.”

His cock pulses inside you, and you think maybe you die and go to heaven for a little bit—just a little, because when you open your eyes, you’re still in Joel’s grimy bathroom—but there’s a sweet moment where you think he’s right. It’s been too long. Far too long since a man’s come undone inside you, let you feel that hot burst and twitching, it’s divine, it’s—well, it’s making you come again. 

When he pulls out, you stumble right to the toilet, glaring at him as you try to clean up the mess before it happens. “Gross,” you grumble.

When you look up, the way he’s looking at you makes somethin’ awful churn inside, and it’s not just the apparent buckets of cum he filled you with. 

The silence between you is thick. Finally, he jerks his head to the shower. “Get cleaned up ‘n get out,” is all he says, and the door clicks shut in his wake. 

[yanderestarangel]

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻... 𝓯𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)

"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.

You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.

Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.

You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.

Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.

All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.

The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.

Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.

"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.

You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.

"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.

[emphistic]

MEDDLE ABOUT

SYN. Being co-stars with your ex-boyfriend of three months is basically hell; or at least, that's what you think. AKA: Sukuna wants you back, whether he's acting or not.

TAGS. actor AU, fem!Reader, mean!Sukuna, exes to lovers, forced proximity, sharing a cigarette, smoking, arguing, eventual smut, Sukuna likes to shut you up with his dick, cockwarming, answering the phone during séx, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, porn w/o plot, use of pet names: baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, my dear (mockingly)

WC. 5.4k (please read anyway 😞)

AN. requested by anon (you didn't specify any genre, so i just freestyled 🤷‍♀️), animated dividers by @/cafekitsune; i'm a sucker for actor AUs; available on ao3; MDNI

“I know you wanna kiss me,” you smiled, leaning closer to Sukuna’s face. Your noses were barely apart, and you couldn’t tell where his breath ended, and where yours started. To be honest, this was far more intimate than any other kiss scene you ever had to film.

“Yeah?” Sukuna grinned, getting equally as close. “And what’re you going to do about that, pretty girl?”

“. . .Fucking slap you, that’s what.” 

“CUT!” The director yelled, groaning in exasperation. “C’mon, people. I know it’s been a long day, but put your differences aside for the sake of one movie, will ya? When you receive your paycheck, you’ll regret all of this ‘huffing and puffing’ you two are both doing right now.”

You exhaled, pulling away from Sukuna. It’s not that you couldn’t remember your correct lines, it’s just. . . You couldn’t take it anymore. Being in the same room as him, breathing in the same air as him, starring in the same movie with him. Fuck, you hated this.

You and Sukuna had broken up exactly three months ago despite having what seemed like a pretty healthy relationship. Seemed is the key word.

Of course, you two had your ups and downs, like an ordinary couple, but what differentiated you two from a normal couple was the fact that you guys both juggled busy careers as an actor and actress. Being booked with interviews, PR stunts, and in general, movies, you and Sukuna didn’t have the ability to spend much time together. And, as if that wasn’t enough, there was constantly a multitude of women on his arm during movie premieres. Yeah, you knew those were all for PR, but still, it hurt to see your boyfriend standing with a woman that wasn’t you every day.

At first, you thought you could take it. Being an actress yourself, you had your fair share of rumors and made up scandals. But it came to a point where you couldn’t take it anymore. You and Sukuna broke up, consequently, and fans immediately voiced their opinions and concerns, bombarding Twitter with trending tags, and posting videos on several apps. The internet had been obsessed with you guys as a couple since the first movie you two co-starred in—which was years ago—so their complaints definitely weren’t for naught.

Originally, you thought that your relationship with Sukuna would end on good terms, but boy, oh boy, were you wrong. Sukuna, just mere days after your breakup, was spotted by paparazzi walking around the city with his arm around a girl you definitely did not recognize as one of his current co-stars. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to hit you up and ask if he could come over to your penthouse right after.

Men, am I right?

You two may or may not have slept together as exes a few times after your inevitable argument about him and that new girl, but rest assured, you did eventually break things off permanently. Well, you thought you did. As if by fate, you and Sukuna were casted as co-stars in an up-and-coming romance movie that had your fans just dying in anticipation of finally being able to see their favorite (broken up) couple together on screen again.

To be frank, you were originally going to pass up the role as the female lead—seeing as your luck had landed you as co-stars with Sukuna—but your manager apparently really, really wanted you to work on the film, saying things like Think of how elated your fans will be and It’s an adaptation from a book that made millions and Just imagine all of the PR and promoting you could do. It took a while of convincing—and coercing—to get you to finally agree to the role since, after all, PR was the main reason for your and Sukuna’s breakup. But, honestly, you would be lying if you said there weren’t any feelings left for your ex-boyfriend, Sukuna.

“I think we should all take a breather,” Sukuna began, jeering, “before someone gets all hot and bothered by just being on the same set as me. Wouldn’t you agree?” Sukuna turned to you, an expression on his face that just made you want to punch him in the nose.

“‘Hot and bothered’, seriously? Don’t make me laugh.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

Sukuna tilted his head to the side, grinning. “Do you think I’m joking? I could feel the way your heart was racing earlier, when we had to shoot that hugging in the rain scene. Just admit it, this isn’t acting for you.”

He was definitely self-projecting, you scowled just by the thought of it.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, sweetheart. We all know how you really feel,” Sukuna teased, leaning down to your eye-level. His breath fanned your reddening ear as he whispered, “You want me so bad it makes you look fucking stupid.”

And when he pulled away, Sukuna added one last remark, “I know it’s been a long three months for you. Say, how’s that blondie treating you, hm? I bet his dick is as small as his future in acting.”

“Ryomen, just stop.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that with him, and you know that. Just leave me alone.”

You shoved at his chest as you walked off set, your assistants following you promptly with water bottles and towels.

In all honesty, you remembered it like it happened yesterday. Before you and Sukuna became boyfriend and girlfriend, your first meeting was in a movie that you both starred in as the female and male lead. It was a romance movie, of course, that was about a couple meeting on an island while both on individual vacations. You two spent most of your days on set in swimsuits and bikinis, consuming fake alcoholic beverages, and, consequently, sleeping together—after the tension just grew unbearable.

On and off camera, Sukuna had been growing an attraction towards you. I mean, who could blame him? You two had to be near each other while being basically half-naked. And, if your pretty face wasn’t enough to beguile Sukuna, your ass definitely was. From the moment he shook hands with you at your first meeting as co-stars, he knew he had to have you—acting or not.

That movie was the start of the skyrocketing of both your and Sukuna’s career in acting. Fans quickly noted how much chemistry the two of you had together, and how well you two could act out emotions and intimate scenes. What the audience didn’t know, though, was that you and Sukuna had started seeing each other a few weeks after shooting together.

Sukuna had invited over the whole cast and team for drinks after a successful movie premiere, and you two ended up talking and conversing in his kitchen whilst a little under the influence. You two hit it off, and learned that being an aspiring actor wasn’t the only thing you two had in common. One glass turned into two, and two turned into stumbling into Sukuna’s bedroom after everyone had responsibly ordered a cab home.

Waking up the morning after, and deciding it wasn’t just going to be a one night stand, you and Sukuna thus began your new relationship. At first, you two avoided being spotted in public together, but it came to a point where your relationship just couldn’t be hidden anymore and you both decided to go public. The internet responded almost immediately with cheers, enthusiasm, and occasionally, expressions showing how un-surprised they were. I mean, you two had been shipped together almost constantly; making it official was almost expected. 

Years passed, the honeymoon stage was over, your careers were more demanding and busy than they had ever been, and, well, you know the rest.

—

“Fancy seeing you here.” 

A grimace immediately made its way onto your face at the sound of Sukuna’s voice calling out to you from behind. 

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, turning to face Sukuna as he sat down beside you and slung an arm around the back of the couch, “I was hoping the next time I saw you would be at your funeral.”

“A little harsh, don’t you think?” chided Sukuna, as he brought out a cigarette and lit it.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back against the couch. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sukuna leaned his face closer to yours, his eyes running down your face and naturally drifting to your lips.

“Unless you’re being your usual asshole-self, and here to annoy me in my dressing room, I’m afraid not.”

After you stormed off set, the director decided it was best to just call it a day and continue filming tomorrow. You went outside for a bit to get some fresh air, before deciding to return to your dressing room and get unready. Stripping down and putting on nothing but your robe, you had sat yourself down on the couch and picked up a magazine, planning on spending a few minutes relaxing before making your way home. Sukuna barging in, despite being off the clock, was something you definitely weren’t expecting. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and if someone found out. . .

“You’ll be in a lot of trouble if my makeup artist comes in here and sees you,” you commented. “Go smoke somewhere else.”

At this, Sukuna’s eyes flickered up to your own, and he removed the cigarette from his lips before blowing out the smoke right in front of your face. Your nose scrunched up, as if on instinct, and Sukuna booped your nose with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I swear,” you began, snatching the cigarette out of Sukuna’s hands, “if I don’t kill you, I hope these will.” Now was your turn to put the cigarette between your lips. You inhaled, and took a deep breath. But, only moments after, the cigarette was out of your hands and abruptly stubbed on a nearby ashtray.

Sukuna looked at you with an intent look on his face. “As much as I find that hot, I’d rather I be the one damaging my lungs. Not you.”

“Looking out for little old me? How cute,” you smiled, your tone sarcastic. “I see you’re not over us, yet, hm? Did that new girl change your mind?”

You leaned closer to Sukuna, your shoulders brushing ever so slightly.

As soon as you mentioned that other chick, Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. It was nothing, we didn’t even hold hands. C’mon, all we did was sit next to each other at a party, and now you’re on my ass about her?”

You shrugged, picking up the magazine you had previously discarded and flipping through the pages with faux interest. “Oh, really? Didn’t look that way to me. You two sure seemed buddy-buddy.”

“Like hell we did. Fuck, do you want me to bring up that twig you were with last week? Kid’s got no meat on his arms. Can’t even call him a man. Is that seriously how low you’re willing to go, babe?” Sukuna scoffed at your lack of attention to him. “Shit’s even worse than a downgrade.”

“You can think that all you want. But I definitely disagree.” You struggled to stifle a giggle.

Sukuna, furrowing his brows, narrowed his eyes at you. “The fuck do you mean by that? Don’t tell me you’ve seen his dick.”

“I dunno, have I?” You turned to Sukuna, meeting his gaze with an equal amount of irritation.

“Must’ve been pretty small, though, if you can’t even remember it,” Sukuna pressed, leaning closer to you, your noses touching, before pulling away. “Whatever, this is boring. Say, how about we get back to where we left off, and practice that kissing scene, hm? I think it’s a great idea.”

“Ryomen, let’s not. You know we’re done. Been done. We’re through.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“Oh, is it not obvious? I think it was pretty obvious when you had the nerve to get with a new girl just days after we broke up. And then you have the balls to call me right after the paparazzi catches you two. Really, Sukuna? I don’t mind the idea of us ending on neutral terms, but . . . 48 hours? Two days after we broke up, and you’re already fucking some girl? Way to go, Sukuna.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, baby. We didn’t even kiss, did you see any pictures of us kissing? No. And, besides, it’s called provocation. Honestly, you should be praising me, because it worked in the end, didn’t it? I came ‘crawling back’ like one of your little bitch boys, and what happened? Oh, I remember; you let me right the fuck in to your apartment.”

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t deny Sukuna. He was right. And, just the mere thought of what you two did after he hit you up brought heat to your cheeks.

The very same night after pictures of Sukuna and that new girl started circulating around the internet, Sukuna decided to text you:

hey pretty girl,

you up?

You were drying yourself off with a towel when you received two notifications on your phone, and when you saw the contact name, you frowned and turned off your phone without giving a response. Minutes after, there was a ring on your doorbell, and when you checked the camera, lo and behold, stood none other than the last pink-haired man you wanted to see that evening.

When you opened the door, wearing nothing other than a towel around your still dripping body, Sukuna couldn’t help but shamelessly check you out, deciding then and there that this definitely wasn’t going to be the end of your relationship. Of course, an argument ensued soon after, because that’s what life was like dating a dick like Sukuna. Luckily for you, however, Sukuna’s bulge in his pants was bigger than his ego, and so it made up for all of the playful bullying and teasing remarks that he frequently gave.

Sukuna—because he wasn’t born yesterday—knew his looks and charms fairly well, and often used them as a weapon or bargaining chip. That’s why, after you spent a minute or two berating and yelling at Sukuna near your front door, it only took the man one look into your eyes and one sultry comment to have you both stumbling into the . . . bedroom? No, you two had been apart for two days too long, and just decided to utilize your expensive kitchen counters for purposes completely unrelated to cooking.

The next morning, you two woke up—after getting just half an hour of sleep—and didn’t untangle from each other’s limbs until your manager called you nearly a hundred times, and forced you to get up and attend some interview or something. That, however, was not your last night with Sukuna. You two met up—intentionally or not—within the same week, whether it be at interviews or just random outings, and meddled with the other until one of you would fold (usually Sukuna) and consequently do something you would end up not fully regretting the next morning.

This affair continued until you finally came to your senses and blocked Sukuna out from your life in all ways possible. But, due to his bank account, Sukuna did end up purchasing multiple different phones just to be able to contact you. You may or may not have given in a few times, but in the end, you did end up leaving Sukuna for good.

“Reminiscing, are you? It’s okay, I’ve been doing that every night since you left the penthouse,” Sukuna laughed, noticing the way you went silent. You hated the way he referred to his place as The penthouse, and not, simply, his penthouse because, to be frank, for the years you both spent as a couple, you practically lived together despite having individual residences.

“What the hell, Sukuna. Just—Why are you even—?”

Sukuna cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I find it pretty hard to believe that not a single part of you misses me. Don’t lie; lying is a sin, y’know.”

“Sukuna—Excuse me? Don’t give me that shit. ‘Lying is a sin’ my ass. You must have to ask for God’s forgiveness pretty often, then. I can’t believe you want to call me a sinner, I mean, just—just look at you! You’re no saint, either, and you know that damn well.”

Sukuna raised his hands in defense, humoring you. “Woah, looks like I’ve been caught,” he laughed, before getting a little more serious. “But, don’t try to avoid the fact that you’re not innocent. Okay, we broke up due to not being able to make time for each other, and because of how much women I had to be around. Yeah, I get that. But it’s not like I was the only one taking up PR stunts. You did the same, too, didn’t you? So don’t try and paint me out to be the bad guy, when, at the end of the day, we did the same fucking thing.”

Irritated, you pinched the space between your brows. “I barely have any energy to say something to your stupid face right now. We broke up because of that, but also because of how much of a fucking dick you were and are. I knew you weren’t a total angel when we got together but—”

“Look. Do you want a nice guy?”

“. . .”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, baby. We all know how you really feel.”

“Go. to. Hell. Sukuna. Seriously. This? Again? Do you even know how much of an ass you are? I should deserve an award for putting up with your shit for so long, God—”

“Yeahh, just keep talking,” said Sukuna in a teasing manner, as he leaned back against the couch, spreading his legs apart. You had never wanted to sit somewhere so bad.

“Are you fucking kidding me—mmph!”

You would’ve continued yelling and cursing Sukuna out for being such a dick had he not roughly pressed his lips against yours, immediately shutting you up. Because you still had some self-respect left, you fought back, throwing weak punches at his chest; but when Sukuna caught your wrists in his hands, you knew it was game over. Your muffled complaints soon turned to whimpers and sighs, as you shut your eyes and let your body do the talking.

Minute after minute, you gradually turned to putty in Sukuna’s hands. Fuck, as much as you hated to admit it, you had truly missed this. The feeling of his large, coarse hands roaming your body, tracing your curves, the feeling of his soft, but unruly hair under your fingertips, but most importantly, the feeling of his lips on yours.

At this point, you couldn’t even remember why the two of you broke up.

“Sukuna,” you murmured, pulling away for a moment to breathe. “We’re not together anymore. We shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t?” repeated Sukuna, eager to get back to where you left off. “Are you in a relationship with someone else? Am I in a relationship with someone else? No, and no. So enlighten me, my dear, why should we stop?”

“. . .” It was like he was challenging you, except, this time, it was a battle you could afford to lose. You wanted Sukuna, you really did. But admitting it was the hard part. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating every outcome, as Sukuna continued to stare at you with so much desire you could practically feel it.

“Are you hesitating because,” Sukuna paused, “—because you fucked someone else while I was gone?”

You sighed, swallowing the lump in your throat; you had never been more conflicted in your life. Placing your hands on Sukuna’s shoulders, you pushed back until Sukuna was sitting on the couch, and you were sitting on top of him—seated on his lap. As if on instinct, his hands made their way from your hips to the curve of your ass.

Sukuna gripped the globes of fat and muscle with a purpose, and let out an exaggerated groan at the missed feeling of you practically sitting on his dick. You were wearing nothing but a dainty, silky robe, and you clearly didn’t cross it over your chest too well, as Sukuna could see almost everything he had been missing out on during the past few months.

“Don’t even think about lying to me. I can feel you throbbing on my thigh, y’know.”

“. . .And?” You raised a brow; whispering in Sukuna’s ear, “What about it?”

Biting your lip, you let your hands wander up and down Sukuna’s neck, the spot you knew he liked you touching. When you broke things off with Sukuna, you didn’t know you could miss being able to trace his tattoos as bad as you did.

“Oh?” asked Sukuna. But when his fingers wandered up your robe, there was a sudden change in Sukuna’s demeanor, and he sucked in a breath.

“Adorable,” you laughed. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shit, baby,” Sukuna groaned, “I bet you were expecting me to come and visit your little dressing room, huh. Even planned ahead and gave me a little surprise. Cheeky thing.”

Just seconds earlier, Sukuna’s fingers had been teasingly ghosting where you wanted him most, but when he noticed the lack of underwear you had on, he nearly lost it. You clearly weren’t making it easy for Sukuna to stay composed, he was sure of that much. Despite all of his belittling and teasing remarks, he definitely wasn’t as unaffected as he let himself seem to be.

“We’ve just been apart for so, so long.” You looked into Sukuna’s eyes, a faux pout on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your tits up against his chest. “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck, girl,” Sukuna kissed his teeth. “You’re dripping wet. All for me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

Sukuna’s fingers danced around your entrance, collecting your slick as you pressed your thighs together, trapping his hand between your legs (not like he was complaining, though; that was probably the closest to Heaven Sukuna would ever get in his lifetime). “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.”

It wasn’t a surprise when you pressed your lips against Sukuna’s, bringing him in for another zealous kiss. In an effort to get impossibly closer, your body curved into his, like you were puzzle pieces molded and created just for each other. You two moved in sync, as if you had both rehearsed this before; but, in truth, you two had just made out too many times to count, so kissing Sukuna was basically like breathing air. You needed it to survive, and, it was light work. What more could you say?

The tension and lust between you two grew, and your dressing room soon filled with the sound of sensual desire, moans and quiet gasps, and the creaking of the framework of your unfortunate couch, which had the misfortune of being beneath the two of you.

From the moment you had begun straddling his lap, you had pretended not to notice the growing erection below you; but, by now, it was pretty hard to ignore the bulge pressing against your ass. It was like, during the months you two spent apart, Sukuna’s dick was growing even larger than before. You didn’t remember it being so big. And, just the sight of it was enough to make you lick your lips in fear? Anticipation? . . .Definitely a mix of both.

As Sukuna made a show of removing his belt and pants, he grinned at the evident look of unfamiliarity on your face. “Scared?”

“Of course not,” you quipped, trying to put up a front, but your body betrayed you, displaying otherwise.

“Naturally,” Sukuna mocked, “that’s why I can practically feel your arousal, right?”

You bit your lip, “Shut up.”

Sukuna laughed, pushing the ends of your robe up to rest on your hips, and sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing each cheek with an equal amount of force. Damn, thought Sukuna, he had missed his favorite girls.

“Just because we haven’t done this in a while doesn’t mean you have to be afraid of it. C’mon,” Sukuna slowly repositioned and lowered your hips and spread your legs apart, easing his dick through your cunt, “there’s nothing to be shy about. I know you’ve been missing this.”

It was true, you and Sukuna hadn’t fucked in three whole months, and your body was definitely starting to forget how he felt. The feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s length and size burned pleasurably, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan, which, in turn, just came out as a whimper instead.

Bracing yourself, you planted both palms on Sukuna’s broad shoulders as your lashes fluttered and your eyes shut tight. “So—nngh—So big, Sukuna. God.”

“Bet you’re real glad you decided to accept this role, after all, huh.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you glared at Sukuna. “Will you just shut—oh!”

Just as you were about to yell at Sukuna, he decided it was the absolute perfect time to give a rough thrust; and you could’ve sworn you felt him in your womb. Throughout all the years you two had been together, you rarely had the opportunity to actually sit on his dick, and, now that you had the chance, you realized how full you felt in this position compared to how you two usually fucked. Sukuna knew you liked it rough, but this . . . was like nothing you had experienced before.

Sukuna—laughing—leaned down just enough to whisper in your ear, “You were saying?”

“Fuck,” you gritted your teeth. “Just move, Sukuna, goddamnit. What’s the holdup? Don’t tell me the late twenties are catching up to your libido.”

“Ha! in your dreams. I was just thinking of a new way we could have fun. Let’s see, just how long can you go without moving, hm?”

You gulped. “W-What? Why would you—?”

“Because it’s exciting, and spices up things. Don’t you think so?”

“. . .”

As the minutes idly passed by, you grew hot and bothered, and exasperated. You couldn’t believe Sukuna was making you do this. Nearly ninety days you two spent apart, and now that you had gotten back together, he had the audacity to leave you high and dry? In a final attempt at getting any satisfaction, you moved to roll your hips, desperate to create any amount of friction to free you from this everlasting state between Heaven and Hell; but two rough hands abruptly caught you in motion, and swiftly held you down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” tutted Sukuna, in a mocking tone. “Did I say you could move?”

Clearly frustrated, you let out a whine; but as your hands move to give punches against Sukuna’s chest, he catches your wrists in his hands with ease, an evil smile on his face, like a predator that had successfully cornered their prey and was just seconds away from latching their teeth in.

The belt was already pretty loose, so when one of the sleeves on your robe slipped down your shoulder, revealing your bare chest, no one was that surprised.

“Oh?” Sukuna began. “What have we here?” His scarlet eyes roamed up and down your figure, as his grip on your wrists turned almost deathly.

“You . . . bastard,” you—suddenly feeling a bit shy—tried to tug your wrists out of his grasps, in order to cover yourself up, but your attempts were futile. “Let go of me—hnngh, shit.”

Your back arched, body curving closer to Sukuna’s as his lips abruptly wrapped around one of your already hard nipples, catching you off guard. You had never felt so overwhelmed; the feeling of Sukuna sucking on a tit while his dick was buried inside of you—unmoving—was nearly enough to make you cum, despite the lack of movement that Sukuna allowed.

Bringing you out of your dazed state was the sudden ringing of your phone on the table beside the ashtray. Your eyes widened in surprise, as you softly pushed Sukuna off of you. “Just—Just ignore it. It’s not important.”

“Right. But where’s the fun in that, huh?”

“You don’t mean. . .”

“You know what I mean. Answer it, on speaker,” Sukuna pressed. His tone told you he wasn’t going to repeat himself.

With shaky fingers, you reached for the phone, answered the caller, and put it on speaker. “H-Hello? Katayama?”

Katayama was the name of one of your co-stars. Or, in other words, the blonde dude, which Sukuna kept mentioning earlier.

“Hey, you! It’s pretty late right now, perfect time for us to go out and get some drinks, y’know? I’m a bit bored, as of lately.”

You were about to respond with an apologetic declination to his offer, but Sukuna cut you off as he roughly lifted up your hips and abruptly slammed them back down, causing you to choke back a moan, and cover it up with a faux series of coughs. “I’m, ah, a little . . . busy,” you whimpered, wincing at the tight grip on your hips—which was sure to leave a bruise in the morning, “right now.”

“Are you sick?”

“Uhm, no—I mean, yes!” You let out another fake cough just to seal the deal. “Yup, just a little under the weather.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a string of moans and curses as Sukuna continued slamming your hips up and down onto his.

“Well, if you’re ever in need of an extra warm blanket, don’t be afraid to—”

“Hahh.” A breathy moan slipped past your lips, and you could practically see the surprised look that was probably on Katayama’s face right now.

“—call . . . me. Uhm, are you sure you’re sick? You sound like you’re in the middle of . . . something. Is everything okay—?”

“Yup! Yeah, everything is totally okay,” you forced out, with an enthusiastic tone. Gripping Sukuna’s shoulder with your free hand for leverage, you shut your eyes tight as you quickly ended the call. “I’m a little occupied at the moment, I’ll call you ba—I’m gonna go. Bye!”

As swiftly as you hung up the call, you threw your phone across the couch, and let out all of the noises you had been previously bottling up.

“I’m so c-close.” You mewled, now even more desperate than you were before.

“If you dare cum,” Sukuna began, his voice low, “I’ll stop.”

“Sukuna!” You whined, scratching at his back and leaving little crescent shaped marks from your nails on his tricep. “I need to—ahnn!”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you held onto Sukuna’s shoulders for dear life as he quickened his pace. Lifting your hips up with ease, and slamming them back down with equal force. Fucked out of your mind was not enough to describe your current state, as your eyes rolled back into your head, and your lipstick was smudged across your mouth.

Sukuna leaned down to whisper into your ear, never stopping his movements. “Bet the little blondie didn’t fuck you like this, huh?”

It was obvious that Sukuna wasn’t an insecure guy; I mean, he had no reason to be. He had nice muscles, a good body, overall, sharp features, tempting eyes, and tattoos for days. But, you had to admit, the spark of jealousy was definitely a good look on Sukuna, one that you wouldn’t mind seeing every once in a while, if it meant seeing him like . . . this.

“. . .S-Sukuna, we never—we never even fucked in the first place.”

“Oh, yeah? How long you been without cock, then, huh? Must be why you’ve been acting like such a bitch. I almost feel bad; all this time, my baby’s just been depraved.”

“. . .F-fuck you,” you shivered, body practically shaking with need.

“No need to state the obvious, sweetheart. Fuck, even your tears taste sweet,” Sukuna groaned, licking a stripe up your cheek. “It’s as if you were literally made for me to devour.”

“Please, please let me cum! I’m so—hnngh—close.”

“Yeah, no. C’mon, I know my girl can last just a little longer, can’t you?” Sukuna grinned, biting his lip as he admired your dazed state. He hadn’t been able to touch you in three months, ninety days, 504 hours. If anyone was going to get their fill, it was him.

—

“Oh!” Your stylist exclaimed, after walking into your dressing room and noticing you lying asleep on the couch. “You’re already here. And, Sukuna’s here, too. Wait. . . SUKUNA’S HERE, TOO!?”