#god there was so much stuff tonight that has needed to be said for a long time

[sidleyparkhermit]

Laura Bailey did so good. She finally walked this thing around to Laudna and gave that talk the time and space it needed and let us see why only Laudna could really pull her out of this

[taeyongdoyoung]

good for you

summary: your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control 😇 pairing: mingyu x reader genre: smut, tooth-rotting fluff warnings: established relationship, home intruder roleplay, consensual somnophilia, safeword exists but isn't used, rough sex, no lube, no protection, neck biting, size kink (no one is surprised), titty slapping, sir kink, spanking, praise+degradation, slight dumbification, subspace, pet names, shy dom gyu, crying, mentions of pee (non-sexual context), aftercare!!! word count: 1.7k

You and Mingyu have not been together for long but from what you know so far he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated. He treats you like a princess, brings you flowers or chocolates with or without occasion, drives you around everywhere, gets stuff from the top shelf for you and is basically the kindest soul to ever step on this Earth. You are, of course, beyond grateful for that, and do your best to show him how much you appreciate him every chance you get.

However, a little demon inside your brain kind of wants him to not treat you as if you are made of glass all the time. While the sex is great and Mingyu makes sure that you reach an orgasm, you can’t help but fantasize about him going rough on you. Even when his friends tease (bully) him, he almost never uses his height and strength to his advantage, instead accepting everything with a good-natured smile.

But you would be lying if you said that the idea of him just snapping doesn’t excite you. Nevertheless, you are not sure how to bring this up to him. You don’t want to sound ungrateful or for him to feel insecure about his abilities because he’s perfect the way he is. It’s your filthy brain that needs fixing. Still, you decide that honesty is the key to a healthy relationship and you gather all your courage to approach him about this.

“Hey, Mingyu, can we talk about something?” you ask one evening after you two have finished having dinner.

His eyes are immediately filled with worry. Judging by the tone of your voice, this is something serious. So far, your relationship has been lighthearted and devoid of any problems. Mingyu thinks that it’s going great but apparently he’s been fooling himself.

“What’s wrong?” he wants to know. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?”

“What?! Of course not! Do you want to break up with me?” you panic.

“No, no, please,” Mingyu shakes his head fervently.

“Good, good,” you exhale in relief.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“Um, it’s kinda embarrassing but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”

“Secrets?” Mingyu blinks in curiosity.

“Yeah…You know how you’re always super gentle with me, both outside and inside the bedroom?”

“Uh, sure? What about it?”

“Can you consider…not doing that all the time?”

“In what sense?” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“In the sense that…can you fuck me harder without holding yourself back? You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”

“Oh…” he finally realizes what you’re getting at. Because he doesn’t say anything rightaway, you hurry to explain.

“Not that I don’t like how sweet and patient you are with me! It’s more than amazing, I just thought that…maybe it’d be fun to try something new. If it’s not your thing, forget I mentioned it, I’m so-“

“It’s not that it doesn’t sound appealing. But I’m afraid that if I’m not holding myself back, I’ll end up hurting you,” Mingyu confesses, surprising you.

You reach your hand out across the table to hold his comfortingly.

“You won’t. I know how caring you are, Mingyu. Which is why I would trust you with something like this. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods. “Did you have a particular scenario in mind or do you want me to surprise you?”

“Surprise me.”

Mingyu smirks sinisterly. Oh God. What kind of demon have you unleashed?

🎀🎀🎀

A few days later, you receive a text from Mingyu while you’re walking home.

Mingyu: Busy tonight?

You: All yours

Mingyu: Unlock your door at exactly 10pm and wait for me in your bed. If I’m not there by 10:30, lock it again, alright?

You: Yes, sir 🛐

Mingyu: That’s my good girl.

Fucking hell. Your heart flutters upon reading these words. He’s called you that before but in this context, it thrills you even more than usual.

Mingyu: Safeword is butterfly. Use it if something is too much, if you’re in pain or for any other reason that brings you discomfort, okay?

You: I’m gonna need a safeword?!?!

Mingyu: I hope it doesn’t come to that but just in case. See you in a couple of hours, baby.

You’re too excited for tonight. You take a long shower. You wear your prettiest lingerie and make your room as cozy as possible. Not that it matters. You spray perfume over your neck and wrists. You put on some lipbalm and mascara. You want to look good for him. But the truth is, you had an exhausting week and already feel sleepy. You unlock the door at 10pm, climb into your bed and…

Somehow you fall asleep. You feel disoriented as your consciousness is slowly returning to you. You feel too hot, too weak and too full. Fuck. What’s going on? You don’t dare to open your eyes for fear of ruining the sweeter than sleep reality.

“Dumb baby couldn’t wait for me and fell asleep all by herself?” Mingyu’s deep voice coos in your ear.

In your half-awake state you feel your boyfriend’s cock thrusting deep inside of you, taking you rougher than ever before. Well, you asked for it.

“So cute and helpless, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter and use you like a whore,” Mingyu murmurs.

He rubs your clit vigorously while still fucking into you, making you wetter than ever before.

“Nnghh,” you whimper drowsily.

“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep,” Mingyu whispers. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything.”

He squeezes your boobs, leaning down to bite your neck like a hungry wolf. And here, you thought your boyfriend was just a cute puppy.

“S-so big,” you cry out pitifully.

“You can take it, slut,” Mingyu says confidently.

You don’t offer a verbal response but your body speaks for itself. Mingyu is almost splitting you in two but your pussy is swallowing him up greedily.

“H-harder, p-please,” your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because it speaks against any common sense.

Mingyu slaps your tits, a little hesitant at first.

It stings but it’s such a sweet hurt you’re already addicted to it.

“Like this?” he asks, making sure it’s okay.

“M-more,” you beg, forgetting all inhibitions. “Use me.”

He does it a couple of more times, while still fucking you roughly. His dick is so enormous that you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow but it will be more than worth it. You lose count of how many times you’ve come around his cock. Sliding out and flipping you on your belly, he takes you from behind, too, spanking your ass and gripping your hair.

“Such a good girl, just for me, right? No one else gets to see you like this, yeah?” Mingyu’s words come out rushed, almost in trance.

“All yours, sir,” you promise.

Mingyu seems satisfied with your answer because he spills his seed inside of you seconds after. You follow his lead and eventually, your knees give out, your mind goes blank and you collapse on the bed.

“Baby?” Mingyu checks up on you worriedly.

You are not capable of responding, brain barely functioning anymore. He moves you gently to see your face. Your eyes are open but unblinking, which scares the shit out of him.

“Come back to me, my sweetheart, please,” Mingyu cries out, hugging you tightly.

A couple of moments later, you still don’t remember your own name but something more important to you leaves your lips:

“Mingyu?” you whisper cautiously.

“Oh, angel,” Mingyu sighs. “I’m right here.”

Then, you suddenly burst into tears. Overwhelmed by how good he made you feel and how much he cares about you, your emotions fully take over.

“What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Mingyu positions you so that you are sitting on his knee and rocks you gently back and forth.

“N-no,” you shake your head. “I’m s-so happy.”

“You poor thing,” Mingyu chuckles softly. “Can’t believe you worked so hard to doll yourself up and make the room smell nice. You knew I was gonna ruin your lingerie anyway, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to look good for you,” you admit with a pout.

“You always do. My best girl,” Mingyu kisses you sweetly and wraps you in his warm embrace, lulling you back to sleep.

🎀🎀🎀

The next morning, you wake up to the feeling of wanting to pee so badly. You manage to climb out of bed but barely make one step and trip on the ground. Uh oh. You got fucked so good you literally can’t walk.

Awakened by the loud thud, Mingyu is by your side in no time.

“What happened?”

“You happened,” you reply truthfully, but you don’t blame him because you brought this upon yourself.

“Oh…” Mingyu understands what you mean. “Did you want to use the toilet?”

“Uh, yeah. Gosh, this is so mortifying.”

You cover your face with your hands.

“I was literally deep inside of you a few hours ago, get over yourself,” Mingyu laughs and lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom.

“Are you gonna stare at me?!” you ask in embarrassment.

“Might as well,” he laughs but gives you some privacy, even though there is no need to be shy after all the things you’ve done together.

After that, he insists on doing everything for you. You tell him you are perfectly capable of brushing your own teeth but nope, Mingyu wants to do that, as well. And honestly? It feels too good to reject.

He even makes breakfast and brings it to bed so you can share it together. As you take the first bite and drink the first sip of coffee for the morning, the feelings come crashing once again. And you start crying even harder than last night.

“Oh, baby, what is it?” Mingyu wants to know, as he brushes your hair behind your ear and wipes your tears.

“N-nothing, you’re just so amazing and kind I feel extremely touched.”

“You do realize this is literally the bare minimum, right?” Mingyu seems shocked. He just made pancakes. It’s not some heroic act, in his humble opinion.

“It’s so rare to find a lovely guy like you, though,” you admit.

“Well, my good girl deserves only the best,” he smiles shyly and kisses your cheek.

You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning wider than ever before.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll want to be good for you forever.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The End

[tatoda]

Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader

masterlist

request

summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention

pairing: conrad fisher x reader

warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff

wc: 800 (i think)

put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out

It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.

“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers

“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink

“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes

“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted

“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward

“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”

“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you

“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up

“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls

“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out

“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away

“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled

“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head

“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”

“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.

Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.

“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows

“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk

“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone

“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”

“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone

“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents

“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”

“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over

“hey sis.”

“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”

“oh yeah please,”

“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”

“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend

“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”

“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back

“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”

“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed

The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.

You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.

“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”

“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven

“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him

“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”

“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”

“told you.” conrad muttered

“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face

“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”

As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.

“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”

“hm?”

“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”

“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on

Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.

“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle

“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”

“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs

“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him

“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled

“come on you big baby, good night mom.”

“night laurel.” conrad muttered

“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice

Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.

“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly

“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”

“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night

“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him

“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck

Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.

[nadvs]

home before dark (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe is being selfish again. When he offered to sleep in your room, it was so you’d feel safe. But that wasn’t entirely why he did it.

He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t for him, too. Something about being around you gives him a sense of quiet when he’s so used to noise.

It’s disorienting feeling a pull to someone he used to avoid, but life stopped making sense to him a long time ago, so why try to find the logic?

Rafe collects the blanket and pillow from the guest bed he slept on last night, figuring he’ll just sleep on your floor.

The way he touched you earlier tonight is playing like a song in his head. When did he get so soft? He’s hardly ever sober for this long. It must be messing with him. It was just a kiss on your cheek, but his heart pounds when he thinks about it.

Then you noticed his gun and looked at him with such disgust that he knows you’d be horrified to learn what his mind sounds like these days. To learn how much anger he has burning through his veins. You’d run in the opposite direction.

You told him you’ve never said anything bad about him. He’d like to keep it that way. So he’ll take all this fake stuff and enjoy it from a distance, far enough removed from you to avoid taking any risks.

You’ve been tucked into bed for a few minutes when Rafe comes through your open door, darkness filling every corner of the room.

After you accepted his offer downstairs, you parted tensely, as if either of you had said one wrong word, the agreement to sleep in your room together would lose all legitimacy.

Rafe’s tall figure quietly makes a bed on the floor a few feet away. He lets out a low grunt when he lies down, turned away from you.

You stare at his back, thinking about how he said whatever you did wrong wasn’t on purpose. You should probably let it go. He’ll never talk about it. But the curiosity is relentless.

After a few minutes of watching Rafe turn from his back to his side over and over, you break the silence.

“Is your brain doing it again?” you ask. Your voice makes the knot in his chest loosen.

“What?” he rasps.

“Is it not turning off?”

He doesn’t respond. You talked about this hours ago at the party, but it stayed with you. He’s not used to this much attention on him. He usually has to fight for it.

“If it isn’t, maybe I could bore you to sleep,” you offer.

“I bet you could.” A second later, Rafe feels a pillow you threw from your bed hit his chest and roll beside him. He smirks in the dark.

You clarify, “I meant I could distract you.”

“For real this time? I don’t need another interrogation.” You love that you can hear a smile in his voice and hate that you can’t see it. Little by little, he’s acting like your friend again.

“Since when is asking one question an interrogation?” Last night, all you did was ask why he was helping you.

“See?”

“Oh, my God,” you sigh with a laugh. “Okay, let me think… I can tell you about the errands I ran today?”

“I’ll be out cold in a minute.” You laugh again and Rafe smiles up at the ceiling. Making you feel safe feels good. Making you laugh like that feels even better.

“Rude,” you say. “Pass me that pillow so I can throw it at you again.”

In the dark, you watch him reach for the pillow on the floor and tuck it under his arm. You breathe out a chuckle.

You pull your duvet up to your chin, unable to believe that the same Rafe who ignored your every attempt to talk, who wouldn’t even hold eye contact with you, is on the floor of your room, joking around with you.

You start to ramble about the shopping you did after he left your house this morning, getting into every menial detail, down to the long line at the gas station.

At first, Rafe can’t imagine falling asleep to this. Your voice humming through the dark is soothing and even though you’re trying to make your story boring, he’s interested.

But eventually, his eyelids get heavier. You’re dozing off, too, but it’s not until you hear his breaths grow deeper that you allow yourself to succumb to the fatigue.

Your senses are blurred and bleeding into each other like paint on a messy canvas, and while you’re confused, you know one thing for sure: you’re terrified.

Ty’s behind the wheel and the car is barreling down the busy freeway at a vicious speed. It’s storming and he’s laughing and you can’t scream. You can’t even speak.

Anne’s car is coming right for yours and Ty won’t slow down no matter how hard you try to gain control of the wheel and you brace for impact, but suddenly you’re in your fifth grade class and you’re crying and everyone is staring at you.

You wake up to big hands holding your shoulders, gently shaking you. A low and soft voice whispers your name, coaxing you to wake up.

Your eyes open to see Rafe standing over you in the dark and you realize your cheeks are wet with tears. Consciousness slowly wraps around you. It was a nightmare.

Your adrenaline pushes you to sit up, your chest heaving. His hands drop off of you, but he’s still standing and leaning over your bed, inches away.

“Bad dream?” he asks over the sound of your shallow breaths. Your whimpers are what woke him up. Hearing you crying in your sleep like that was painful.

You rub both eyes with your knuckles and try to catch up with reality.

“I was in the car with Ty and he was driving too fast and then I saw your mom-” You immediately shut up. In your fog, you forgot what you’re allowed to say and what you’re not, and by the way Rafe stands straight, you know you messed up.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. His fingers are still and don’t curl around yours. The fact that you pull him towards you shows just how disoriented you are. “Can you sleep up here?”

“What?”

“Can you sleep up here?” you mumble dazedly. Rafe’s already sinking onto the mattress before you finish asking your repeated question.

You turn to face him when he lies down. You curl into a ball, your hand still gripping his as you try to breathe slower. You remember your other pillow is on the floor and you lift your head to shift your pillow to the middle so that he can rest his head on it, too.

Rafe stares ahead, listening to your fast breathing and his loud heartbeat. He’s struck that even when you’re in a half-asleep trance, your instinct is to make sure he’s comfortable.

And to ask him to lie next to you. To be close when there’s nobody around to prove your pretend relationship to. You actually find comfort in him. He thought he was starting to find it in you, too, but then you mentioned her.

You shudder when Rafe’s hand twists out from yours, losing the anchor reminding you that none of it was real. But then you realize he did it to put his palm on your cheek.

“You’re good,” he reassures you. He frowns when he feels a tear on your skin. “It’s alright.”

You nod under his touch, your eyes shut, swallowing hard and cupping his wrist. He’s still trembling from withdrawal.

The dream took you to when you were ten and Rafe’s desk was empty and your teacher told the class he lost his mom a couple of nights ago, so you’d spend the period making sympathy cards for him.

It’s important we show him he’s not alone, she said and you were so upset that you didn’t know how to do that when you were supposed to be best friends. You stared at a blank piece of paper for long enough that your teacher told you that you could work on something else.

You did eventually make him a card. And you visited. And you called. And you tried talking to him over and over.

But nothing you did or said was ever good enough. He shut everybody out and you were no exception. Maybe someone else would be mad at him for it, but you couldn’t ever find it in your heart to be. You still can’t.

“I’m sorry,” you say into the dark, wishing he knew just how heavy the pain you carry for him is. You feel frantic now, the emotions washing over you with no mercy, as if you just learned she died all over again. “I’m sorry for everything. You were just a kid-”

“Don’t,” Rafe interrupts. “Just sleep.”

You sniffle and he swears he can feel his heart crack but he can’t indulge you. He can’t open the wound he pretends isn’t still bleeding. He can’t talk about how his life crumbled into ruins and he’s still sitting in the rubble.

He lost his mother, his security, and eventually his mind, and there’s no point in talking about what he can never get back.

Rafe’s hand slips off of your cheek but your fingers remain wrapped around his wrist. He lets you keep holding onto him as you fall back asleep.

The sunlight is coming through slitted blinds when Rafe’s eyes open. He couldn’t see your room last night, but now that he can study the space that is so you, his mind starts racing.

You’re asleep next to him, head tilted towards him on the pillow you’re sharing. He gazes over your pretty features, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips.

How could someone so sweet hurt him so fucking bad? Last night was brutal. You mentioning his mom without any warning was like a sharp jolt of electricity. He was an idiot to think he could find comfort in you.

You’ll always remind him of it. Of the helplessness and the horror and the agony. He can’t handle it. Even if you never talk about it again, your presence alone is a reminder.

You shuffle awake and reach out for him, but his side of the bed is cold. He’s not on the floor, either. You look out the window to see his motorcycle is still where he parked it last night.

When you come down to the front room, Rafe is in the same chair he sat in the night of the storm, grudgingly playing with his ring, staring ahead with a hard frown.

He sees you and immediately stands up, eyes darting away from you like the last few days didn’t happen at all. All his coldness is back.

“Finally,” he grunts. You watch him stalk past you with screwed up lips. “Lock the door behind me.”

You realize he was waiting for you to wake up. And now he’s acting like you’re contagious with something he’d rather die than catch, rushing out of your home, triggering the alarm when he opens the front door.

You follow him to punch the code into the security system and then quickly open the door he closed, watching him stride down the steps towards his bike.

You’re in a haze. Last night, he held you so gently and you fell asleep inches away from each other. This morning, he can’t get away fast enough.

It’s what you said. You mentioned his mom. You knew it was out of bounds, but you were so frightened and disoriented and spoke without thinking.

“Wait,” you say to his back. But Rafe continues on his way, making you feel just like you did in your nightmare. You’re speaking but it’s like nothing is coming out.

“Please don’t go back to ignoring me,” you call louder, a shake in your voice. This makes him pause. You swing the door shut behind you and close the distance, stepping out into the brisk morning air.

You face him and he looks absolutely wrecked. Guilt digs its sharp claws into your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I was out of it.”

Rafe stares down at the paved ground, his jaw tightening.

“You’re always gonna remind me,” he mutters.

His sentence is simple, but it carries the weight of your broken friendship. It hits you that you could never mention the past again, not a single memory or anything about his loss, and it still wouldn’t be enough. You’re a constant reminder.

“That’s why you never wanted anything to do with me?” you say. Rafe looks at you again. Your eyes have lost all their light.

It’s just a part of the reason the bridge between you can’t ever be rebuilt, but talking about it with you is torture, so he’ll let you believe that that’s all there is to it.

“You can go,” you say quietly, stepping back. If being with you just brings back painful memories to him, you won’t subject him to it any longer.

Every muscle in Rafe’s body aches as he drives home. His head is hammering with pain and his bones weigh a million pounds and he’d kill for a hit of anything right now. He needs the escape.

Just when he thought he found a place to slow down, you reminded him of why he’s always running. As soon as he’s sure your ex is done bothering you, he’s out.

As you watch Rafe drive away, the gate opens when the sensor detects a vehicle leaving the property, and you notice the mailbox is open.

You pick up the mail to see an envelope with your name handwritten on it. Panicked, you rush back inside, locking the door. You know it’s Ty, finding yet another way to contact you.

You would’ve noticed the mailbox was open when you got home with Rafe last night. He did this overnight or early this morning.

When you finally find the courage to read his letter, dread forces its way into your body so roughly that you’re not sure you’ll ever feel happy again.

You feel some relief when Sarah texts in the group chat a couple of hours later asking if anyone wants to go shopping. It’s the distraction you need.

It’s late afternoon when you meet her and your mutual friend Lia at the mall, trying to get your mind off of Rafe’s coldness and Ty’s persistence and your own pain.

Afterwards, Sarah invites you both to her house and soon, the three of you are sitting in her room, chatting and listening to music.

The door is open and when a figure passes by, you look up to see Rafe. He glances at you for a second, then goes right back to ignoring you, continuing on his way without another second of hesitation.

When he got home, he took a couple of shots before he fell asleep in his bed. He woke up still partly buzzed and he can’t handle seeing or talking to you right now.

Sarah shakes her head in the corner of your eye. She noticed him, too.

“Jesus, Rafe, that’s how you treat your girlfriend?” she half-shouts. Two pairs of eyes land on you as your friends await your reaction.

“We’re in a fight,” you say, anxious that the topic has come up and that you’ll have to lie your way through it.

“Already? Didn’t you just start dating?” Lia says.

“Yeah, it’s sad,” you say with a downcast laugh.

Rafe chews on his thumbnail as he kneels against the hallway wall. He should’ve kept walking, but he’s secretly hanging onto your every word.

“I still can’t believe you guys are together,” she says. “I didn’t even know you liked him.”

“I did,” Sarah laughs. You look at her with wide eyes. “Come on, you never let anyone say anything bad about him.”

“Why do you?” Your eyes jump to Lia.

“Why do I what?” you say, trying to play it off.

“Like him,” Lia replies.

You figure while all of this is a sham, you can at least answer this question with full honesty.

“He takes care of me,” you say. You think about how you laughed together in your bedroom last night. “And I have fun with him.”

Regret gnaws at Rafe. Even though you’re upset with him, you still speak of him kindly. His growing feelings for you would be so much easier to get rid of if you were like everybody else, writing him off, calling him psycho.

“Yeah, you look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Lia replies with a playful nudge, trying to bring some humor to the room. “Seriously, are you okay? You seem off.”

You believe it. Your mind doesn’t feel any clearer since last night’s nightmare.

“I’m really freaked out because of Ty,” you admit.

“It’s crazy that he’s still bothering you,” Sarah says.

“It is. He won’t stop. I saw footprints outside my front door last night and I think they were his. That would mean he found a way around the gate,” you tell them. “And then there was a letter from him in my mailbox this morning. It was so creepy.”

Rafe’s body stiffens.

“God, that’s like stalker level,” Lia says. “What’d it say?”

The sound of Rafe saying your name interrupts you. You look up to see him standing in the doorway, staring at you. He cocks his head, silently beckoning you to come out.

When you face him in the corner of the hallway, far from Sarah’s room, you cross your arms and let him start the conversation.

“That asshole left you a letter?” Rafe mutters quietly. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Embarrassment turns in your stomach. He was eavesdropping.

“You wouldn’t have answered,” you reply.

“Yeah, I would’ve,” he says sternly. “What’d he write?”

You bite your bottom lip in anguish, choking back your tears.

You’re clearly shaken up. Rafe’s protective instinct overpowers him. He grasps your arm, squeezing gently, giving into his every impulse around you like he always does. You breathe slowly, eyes darting away.

“What did he write?” he repeats. His hand is so warm, a hard contrast from how cold you know he can be.

Your mind turns over the scribbled words on the crumpled page Ty left for you. It was mainly nonsensical, but some phrases stuck with you like a dagger to your heart.

“That he and I are meant to be,” you recall. “And that I know deep down we’re supposed to be together and he’ll keep waiting until I realize it.”

“What a fucking creep,” Rafe snarls, dropping his hand off of you. He’s not going to miss the next opportunity to beat the hell out of the guy and get him away for you for good.

The intensity of your nightmare and the shock from your argument still hurts, and as you look at Rafe, his hair falling over his forehead, his skin pale and his lips pursed in anger, you don’t have it in you to ask him to continue doing this for you.

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” you say. “I’ll stay with friends until my parents get back.”

“What?” Rafe’s pulse quickens. This thing with you isn’t real, he knows that, but it feels like you’re breaking up with him.

“We’re just hurting each other,” you tell him.

“No,” he says. “No. I’m keeping you safe. I’m taking care of you.”

He can’t possibly be hurting you. He can’t be fucking up yet another thing in his life.

“Rafe,” you exhale, defeated. “This whole thing was a bad idea. I’m just a reminder to you. And you’re…”

“I’m what?” he asks.

“You’re always going to keep me at a distance,” you say.

You hang on to what feels like your last shred of hope. You wait, hoping he’ll deny it, hoping he’ll finally meet you in the middle. You thought you had infinite faith that he’d let you in again. But after this morning, you’ve reached the end.

“Listen, I’m…” Rafe begins. Being with you hurts sometimes, but he can’t allow you to be in any danger. “I’m not letting you deal with him on your own.”

“I won’t be on my own,” you respond. He scoffs. Your friends couldn’t scare him off like he can.

“I can’t risk anything happening to you,” he says quickly. “Just… we’ll keep doing this until he finally gets it, alright?”

You’ve been barely grasping onto hope and his words are enough to keep you from letting go. That’s when you accept the fact that you’re doomed. You’ll never give up on him.

“Alright,” you say. Until he finally gets it. Your time with Rafe is limited. But nonetheless, it’s time.

He breathes out in relief. The possibility of disappointing you is more painful than he imagined. He can’t mess this up.

You leave him standing in the hallway, knowing you’ll have to walk away for good when all of this is over. You wonder if you’ll be able to do it without it breaking your heart.

Later in the evening, Sarah invites a few more friends over, who then invite their friends, and soon, the backyard of the Cameron estate is buzzing with conversation and laughter, the beach a glittering backdrop to the spontaneous party. You’re not surprised the space filled up so fast. This is all Kooks do these long summer days.

You find relief in the fact that Ty probably wouldn’t come. Not to Rafe’s house. You stand by your group of friends under the setting sun, the crowd growing around you.

When you spot one of Ty’s friends, your stomach sinks. If he’s here, maybe your ex is, too. It’s best to be cautious.

You search the crowd for Rafe. You noticed him a little while back, drinking with his friends, but he’s nowhere to be found now.

When you break from your group to ask Rafe’s friends where he went, they only offer you shrugs.

You slip into the quiet house, your heart starting to pound at the possibility of Ty finding you and Rafe not being around.

You find Rafe’s name in your phone and dash up the grand stairs, your phone to your ear as you decide to hide in Sarah’s room until you’re sure you’re safe.

It rings once before he answers.

“You okay?” he says.

“Where are you?”

“I’m - uh…” Rafe starts to clean away the lines of coke he made on his nightstand. He never hid it before, but with you around, he’s ashamed of his drug use now. That he needs it. That he couldn’t stay away. He finished his first line before you called. “I’m in my room.”

“I’ll be right there,” you say.

He panics, spilling the powder in his rush, wondering how many seconds he has left before you catch him mid-relapse.

The door opens and he catches your eyes darting to the hardwood floor, covered with coke he didn’t clean up on time.

Rafe’s at the edge of his bed, glaring up at you.

The last time you were in this room, he was just an innocent kid, and now he’s hunched over and drugged up and living through grief you’re not sure he’ll ever be able to bear.

He tries to shove past the shame, focusing on what he’s supposed to be focusing on.

“Is he here?” Rafe asks, standing up, filled with a rush of energy from the drugs.

He approaches you, his pupils blown, rubbing his nose. You stare up at him with concern. He’s so obviously trying to hide the fact that he just used.

“I don’t know,” you say. “I saw his friend and I thought I should find you in case he came.”

“Shit,” he mumbles, erratically shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have left you alone out there.”

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not,” Rafe says, his agitation growing. He was fighting the urge to use as long as he could. Then he told himself he’d just do a couple of lines and go back downstairs, but something could have happened to you in those few minutes. “It’s not okay. I fucked up. All I do is fuck up.”

You watch him pace back towards his bed, raking his hand through his hair. He’s nearly hysterical.

“That’s not true,” you say. Is that really what he thinks of himself?

“You don’t…” Rafe lets out a defeated huff as he sits on his bed, his head in his hands. “You don’t know me.”

It’s a painful reminder. But he’s right.

He stands up again, his breaths heavy. He needs to get this anxiety and anger and fear out the best way he knows how. With a fight.

“He better not be here,” he mutters.

Rafe stalks past you quickly and you follow him as he rushes down the stairs.

He darts towards the crowd scattered across the backyard. You trail him as he pushes through groups, his fists clenched tight.

He realizes your ex isn’t here and turns to look down at you in the middle of the crowd.

“Who’s his friend?” he asks, panting. You can tell that at this point, he just wants to hit someone. He doesn’t care who. And you’re not going to lead him to a guy who hasn’t done anything wrong.

“He has nothing to do with this,” you say over the chattering surrounding you. “Ty isn’t here, okay? That’s what matters. I’m safe. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

The worry in your eyes is almost too much for Rafe. He doesn’t get you. Whatever you see in him doesn’t exist. He feels like he needs to prove to you how wrong you are.

“I couldn’t last two nights,” he says. “I wanted to get clean and I couldn’t last two nights.”

Your face falls. The ground you’re both on feels shaky. You didn’t know he thought so low of himself.

“It’s not all or nothing,” you say. “You don’t have to get it on the first try. It’s…” You almost say an addiction, but you don’t want to insult him.

“It’s a habit and it takes time to break,” you conclude.

Rafe exhales shakily, his body jittery. He looks so upset that you couldn’t leave his side if you tried.

“I need to get away from all this noise,” you say. “Can we go down to the water?”

Rafe curtly nods. He needs to get away, too. The commotion around him is only fuelling his rage.

You stride towards the boardwalk leading to the private beach. The party wasn’t too loud for you at all, but he looked overwhelmed, so you fibbed just to get him out of the chaos.

You quietly walk towards the beach under the dark orange sky. Even with the baggage between you, it feels good to be by his side like this. You just wish it didn’t hurt him to be around you.

You ran up and down this boardwalk so many times as kids. One morning, you fell and scraped your knee and even though you were fine, Rafe put his arm around you to lean on him the whole way back up to the house so his mother could bandage you up.

Now it’s your turn to help him. However you can.

You make it to the sand. The crowd’s sound is just a dull roar behind you now that you’ve reached the beach.

You look over at Rafe to see his chest still rapidly rising and falling as he gazes out at the sea. You wonder why he was hiding it. He never shied away from snorting lines in the middle of a party before.

But by the look on his face, you can tell. He’s ashamed. His words ring in your head. All I do is fuck up.

“You can do it,” you tell him. “You can quit.”

Rafe looks at you and expels a dismissive scoff.

“Doubt it,” he murmurs.

You settle onto the sand, legs stretched out towards the water.

“Why?” you ask.

He stares out at the sea again, the shallow waves curling and tumbling into the shore beneath the setting sun. When he thinks about the hours you two spent out here, it’s like the memories aren’t even his.

He leans to sit next to you, arms resting on his propped up knees. You want so badly to talk about all the silly games and conversations you had out here years ago, but you know better now.

“Why do you care so much?” Rafe finally says, his voice low. You gaze at his profile and notice his lower lip just barely tremble. There’s a fragility in his face that you’ve never seen before.

You take a breath. How can you possibly answer without bringing up the past?

“I just do. Whether you want me to or not.” You say it with a soft chuckle in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

His shoulders slump. Before all this started, he was sure nobody cared about him. Not really. Not when it mattered. But you do.

You bite your lip, desperate to make him feel better.

“I’m not scared of him when you’re around,” you say. “I didn’t think that was possible. And maybe you weren’t downstairs when I was looking for you, but you answered my call right away. So, no, you don’t fuck everything up. You’re helping me when you don’t even have to.”

“I do have to,” he replies.

“Why do you think that?” You know he has a sense of loyalty towards you, a sense of owing you something, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll give you a warmer answer this time.

Rafe’s heart is racing. He’s failed so much. He failed making his own dad like him. He failed staying away from the coke. He’s not going to fail you.

“You’re the only person left who gives a shit,” he admits, unable to say about me out loud.

His words send a shiver through you. Just like in your bed last night, even though there’s nobody around to prove anything to, you touch him. You cup your hand around the inside of his elbow and squeeze.

Feeling your skin on his is a rush for him every time. The only contact he’s had with other people for years has been violent. But you’re so gentle with him and it unravels his anger.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat. Or he tries to. But he can’t. The coke is making him manic. He took too much. He’s overwhelmed by your affection and he can’t stop what his body’s doing in response.

When you watch a tear run over the curve of his cheek, your shock and concern and sadness give you an ache so painful, your breath hitches.

Before he can try to leave, you lean on him, your temple pressed against his shoulder.

He’s humiliated. He’s actually fucking crying in front of you. So much for being the strong person keeping you safe. Behind everything he pretends to be, he’s weak.

It’s odd to cry in front of someone and not have them tell him to man up. You simply nuzzle against him and tighten your grip.

“Rafe!” someone calls in the distance. “Dude, what the hell? Why’d you leave?”

You both look back to see a group of his buddies stumbling down the boardwalk, laughing drunkenly.

“Shit,” Rafe grunts, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands. His friends are probably looking for some blow. They can’t see him like this. He’s pissed you’re seeing him like this.

You can see how his guard is suddenly up again, how frantic he is to cover his tears.

“Should I…” you stammer, “try to get them to go?”

Rafe shrugs, at a loss, pulling the collar of his shirt up to wipe the evidence off of his face.

You watch his friends get closer and your mind rushes through how you can possibly get them to leave him alone.

It’s ridiculous, but it may be the only thing that’ll work.

“Maybe…” You take a breath to gain a bit of courage. “Maybe we just do what we did at the party last night?”

Glossy blue eyes land on you. He thinks back to the way you held each other, the way he kissed your cheek.

“I don’t know,” you say, words rushed. “Maybe if they think you’re in the middle of a hook-up, they won’t interrupt? It’s stupid, but I don’t know what else we could do.”

The invitation ignites a fire in him. Suddenly, Rafe’s hand cradles your jaw and he pulls you in. You were expecting a hug or something tame. But he kisses you.

Everything that felt heavy in you lightens. His lips are even softer than you imagined. Your mouths melt together and it feels so natural that you almost forget this is all a tactic.

Everything in and around Rafe blurs when he kisses you. He doesn’t feel weak or fucked up or like a failure. He just feels you. Kissing him back. Tasting him like he’s tasting you.

You hear Rafe’s friends’ voices grow louder and you pull back, glaring at them.

“He’s busy!” you shout. Some of them laugh, others holler, but the guy at the front of the group throws his arms up and turns around.

“Say no more,” he slurs, laughing. “But hurry it up, will you?”

You watch them stumble back towards the house and you realize you can hear your heartbeat. You wish it was from the rush of getting away with a lie. But it’s not. It’s from the lie feeling this good.

“It worked,” you say. When you focus on Rafe again, his eyes are on your lips. Then, he quickly looks away, his hand lifting off of you.

The air between you is thick and awkward and you nervously clasp your hands together.

He looks out at the water again. So do you. You’re not touching anymore. And even though he’s right next to you, he suddenly feels miles away.

(part five)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[exactlymaximumgarden]

schlatt with a celebrity s/o. maybe you're famous from acting, from music, streaming, modeling, literally whatever. either way, you're famous in your own right.

so imagine schlatt is doing a simple gaming stream, specifically another drunk truck simulator. he has media share turned on to entertain himself while on the road, and his viewers are submitting the usual stuff they know will make him laugh. however, one submission throws him for a loop.

it's a thirst edit of you.

schlatt has to stop a second and watch, ogling at the screen as the edit plays. "god damn," he softly mutters under his breath. meanwhile, his truck slowly starts drifting to the wrong side of the road, half of chat laughing at his reaction and the other half screaming at him to pay attention to the drive.

"who sent that in? who sent that? that is- ope." schlatt quickly veers back into the correct lane. "that is not funny. do not send me edits of my girlfriend while i am on the road, okay?" he can't help himself as he starts dissolving into laughter. however, his cheeks have very visibly heated up. "i am not a distracted driver, chat! i will not become one of those... those drunk crashers they warn you about."

this, of course, only enables chat further. more and more edits of you are flooded into the media share queue, and every single time, schlatt can't take his eyes off you. he tries to play it off by laughing, yelling "STOP!" at chat, but he secretly loves it. any opportunity to admire you is a welcome one. however, finally, he pauses his game and playfully scolds the viewers.

"guys, guys. look, i love looking at (y/n) as much as you do. i do. but i really need you guys to curtail it for tonight, alright? i'm gonna flip the fuckin' truck again if i keep takin' my eyes off the game."

he squints at chat as the responses come flooding in.

"someone said, 'you know you like it, sclit.' i know i do! you got me, man, i do! my girl might kill me if i set a bad example on the road, though. y'know how it is."

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 2

Summary: “Y/N’s first self defense class leads to some inevitable tension, all of which is thrown out of Y/N’s mind when she gets an unexpected visit at her office desk…”

Wc: 4.8k

Tropes: boxer!Harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: sexual TENSION😈, brief mention of SA, blood

A/N: hi everyone! I am so positively overwhelmed by the great response this new series has been getting🥹. I have such a good feeling about this and I hope you’ll appreciate this little adventure we’re going on😋. Xxx

P.S. I would also recommend listening to ‘Knuckles’ by the Snuts. Not only because it’s a great song, but along with NFWMB, it’s kinda the theme song of this series🤭.

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It was 8:55pm.

Harry had never been so fixated on time before. It was like his brain was counting down each second, even when he was trying to concentrate on quite literally anything else.

All weekend he had been wondering whether or not Y/N would show up tonight. Even though he had other things to do, and plenty of more urgent matters occupying his mind, the thought of her still managed to take up some space.

He hadn't heard from her. Not that it was technically possible; he didn't give him any contact information. God, why was he sweating this so much?

8:59pm.

The gym was entirely empty. He always closed early on Tuesdays. The rest of the week he stays open until 12am. There are more people who go to the gym late at night than he thought, but since he needed to cut himself some slack, he decided to use Tuesdays for that.

Not that he really cut himself some slack. He'd stay and do his own exercises, then stay longer to work on administration. He would eventually go home at around 11pm. Greg scolded him for it, demanding he take some time for himself, but that seemed to be impossible for Harry.

He loved this. He loved helping people and the shitty administrative stuff was nothing in comparison to the smiles he would see on people's faces upon leaving the gym. Whether that was one of the women in his defense classes, or a man who'd reached his new weightlifting goal. He loved seeing people happy.

9:04pm.

A wave of disappointment flooded through Harry's body. He didn't even know why he thought she'd come. It's not like he gave any indication that she wanted to. She actually told him, outright, that she didn't. He needed to check himself into a mental hospital or something... occupying himself so much with a girl he met once. He needed some sort of reality check.

The sound of the reception bell tore Harry from his thoughts, his head shooting towards the hallway where the sound was coming from. His feet began to move before he could even comprehend, and when he turned around the corner, a small sigh left his mouth.

Shit. There she was. Wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail, much like it had been the last time he saw her. It still looked different, though, as if she had put in more effort this time. There were no stray hairs, and the ponytail was braided. Her eyes were as big as ever, and he could've sworn they gleamed a bit when they landed on him.

Angel.

"Hi." She smiled shyly, adjusting the strap of her duffel bag that slung around her shoulder. The corner of Harry's mouth tugged up.

"Hi."

She didn't say anything, just stared at him and waited for him to continue talking. Harry, however, was too busy with looking at her that he forgot he should probably say something. It's why it took him a little longer to say:

"C'mon, let's go to the other room."

He waited for her to pace towards him before he turned around and walked to the training room. He tried, he truly did, to stay casual and just keep walking, but he couldn't help it. His head turned—just to check, he said to himself—to see the beautiful woman still walking behind him. She really was here.

Having entered the training room, Harry walked onto the mat, Y/N following him closely. He turned around and gestured for her to put her bag on the ground. She did as instructed, and stood back in front of him. He noticed her posture, the way it was extra straight. She was compensating for the insecurity that displayed in the way she fiddled with her fingers behind her back. She probably thought he didn't notice, but there were mirrors all around the room, so he could see every single part of her.

Harry titled his head downwards and looked at her. He was only realizing it now; the height difference between them. He had seen it last week, but now that he was standing close to her, it was more prominent.

"I want to say beforehand, that during these classes I will have to touch you." He said softly, his voice still in that low baritone. Y/N's lips slowly parted, but no words came out. "Is that okay with you?"

From the way her cheeks flushed after vigorously nodding her head, he could tell she had found her quick agreement to be a bit embarrassing. Harry only smiled.

"Words, please, Y/N."

"Y—yes," She quickly answered, and Harry opened his mouth to communicate his approval, but the continuation of her consent caught him off guard. "You can touch me."

His heartbeat began to pick up a bit, blood rushing towards parts that it should definitely not be rushing to. He clenched his jaw and balled up his fists, hoping the tension in the other parts of his body would refrain his cock from straining too hard against his pants.

Jesus, what was wrong with him? Why was he acting like he just got out of prison?

"Let's warm up." He said gruffly, sounding more moody than he wanted to. Y/N nodded, looking at her feet as she took a step backwards. She waited as Harry walked to the bench to get jump rope. When he walked back and handed it to her, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"It's to get your heart rate up. It'll have you ready for the exercises."

"Okay." She took the rope from his hands and got ready, but never started the exercise.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. Her eyes went all big like it did in that first class.

"Oh— no, nothing. I was waiting for you. I don't know why... you're the instructor, of course." She was rambling again, shutting her eyes tightly for a few seconds after closing her mouth. Harry bit his lip to keep himself from chuckling at the woman in front of him.

"You know what, you're right, I'll join you. I haven't done my exercises today anyway." He said as he grabbed another rope. It was a big fat lie; he had trained for a good two hours today. But these exercises were harmless fun, and if it would make her feel more comfortable, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Would you like some music? I always prefer it because it tends to get kind of quiet in here. But we don't have to. It's really a personal preference." Harry explained, holding up his phone. A small smile appeared on Y/N's face.

"Uhm, yeah, that would be great. What do you usually listen to?"

Harry shrugged. "Uhm, rap usually."

Y/N hummed. Harry squinted his eyes at the woman in front of him, then raised a brow.

"You don't like that, do you?"

"What? No! I don't care, really. You can put on whatever you want." She was quick to defend herself. She wasn't exactly lying. Y/N didn't care, she wouldn't dream of opposing the man in front of her.

"What do you usually listen to?"

"Uhm, I like older music." You confessed. Harry tilted his head.

"Yeah? What kind?"

"Jazz, Soul, classic rock, a bit of hard rock, disco."

Harry nodded, and looked down at his phone to type in something. Y/N frowned—probably wondering what he was doing—but a giggle escaped her as 'Let's Hear It For The Boy' started playing through the speakers. Harry's eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of her. He couldn't help but smile pridefully, knowing he made her laugh like that. It felt like an accomplishment.

"Okay, let's begin."

And so, Harry and Y/N began jumping with the jump rope next to each other. He told her to count until fifty out loud, and she obeyed him. By the time they were done, Y/N's heavy breathing made her realize that her physical shape had gotten a lot worse since moving out. She always used to run back when she lived with her parents, she told Harry, but she hadn't found time for it since she'd moved.

They did a couple other warm-up exercises together, and when stretching the final time, Harry dared to comment.

"You're pretty flexible."

Y/N looked up, shrugging at her instructor. "I was a cheerleader back in high school, and I used to do a lot of yoga in college. Maybe it stuck."

"Yeah, probably." Harry nodded, admiring the woman in front of him. She talked so casually about herself. She was actually impressively flexible; it's why he noted it in the first place. She was taking herself for granted, he could tell.

"Okay, let's start, shall we?" Harry said, getting up to his feet. Y/N silently nodded as she followed in his footsteps. "I'm going to teach you some basic things, but I also want to ask you if there are some specific exercises you would like to focus on. If so, we can start by handling those after having learned the basics, okay?"

"Okay." Y/N said, taking a deep breath.

"You can think about it, and tell me next time." Harry added, and as The Jackson 5's ABC began to play, the real exercises started.

Y/N listened intently as he explained her the basic things about throwing a punch. Balance was the most important thing, Harry had said. She followed his instructions closely and stood with her feet shoulder-with apart, her right foot—the dominant one, he told her it had to be—slightly ahead of her left one.

"Good." Harry's sound of approval had awakened something in your stomach. "Now clench your fist— you have to wrap your thumb around your index and middle fingers. Otherwise you'll break your thumb."

Y/N did as he said, keeping her wrist straight. Her stomach dropped as he let out a disapproving hum. He went to stand beside her as he lowly said:

"Bend your knees."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Y/N bent her knees a bit. From all the nervousness she kept stretching her limbs all the time, going against his order. Seeing her answer to him so quickly had made him smirk a bit.

"Good."

He didn't miss the deep breath Y/N took as he spoke. She desperately wanted his approval. It was endearing... and other things that it shouldn't be. Harry mentally slapped himself in the face. This was a professional environment, why were his thoughts racing the same way they used to back when he was a teenager? It was pathetic, really.

"Now, when you punch someone, it's important to put your entire body into it. If you punch without moving the rest of your body, it won't have as much of an impact. You have to generate the power from your core and legs. That way, the blow will land way harder." He explained, trying not to smile at Y/N's faint frown as she took in all the he was saying. She was so concentrated, wanting to absorb every piece of information he shared. "Like this."

He showed her what he meant. Y/N nodded and tried to imitate her instructor, but without much luck.

"You don't have to lean forward that much. If you turn with your entire body, it'll do that for you." He said, and had to fight the small grin that threatened to form on his lips when she tried to hold herself back too much this time. She huffed in annoyance.

"How am I ever going to be able to defend myself again if I can't even get a punch right?" She murmured, mainly to herself, as she pinched the bridge between her nose. Harry's ears perked up at what she said.

What did she mean with 'again'? Rage started simmering in his body at the sole implication of someone having done something to this woman that made her have to defend herself. Is that why she was so interested in the class? Why she wanted to learn so bad despite being so shy? Because someone had hurt her, or threatened to, and made her feel unsafe?

"Can I touch you?"

Y/N's gaze shot up to Harry's, keeping them locked for a few seconds before she let out a soft 'yes'. He nodded once, went to stand behind her, and told her to get back into position. As soon as she had, he grabbed her hips. Firm, but light.

"Do it again, slowly."

Y/N did as he said, and let him help her move her body in the right way. Automatically, her foot stayed in the right position, and she wasn't really leaning forward anymore.

"That's it." Harry said proudly. He was kind of caught off guard when Y/N sucked in a breath and turned around, his hands falling off her hips immediately. For a second, he felt bad, not having wanted to make her feel uncomfortable in any way, but when he saw her swallow, biting her lip, he knew that his touch had caused something else.

Fuck. He was definitely better off not knowing.

"I— Can I drink some water?" Y/N asked, almost sounding like she was out of breath. Harry did his best not to let it get to his head too much as he nodded, biting inside of his cheek. She scurried over to her bag, and took out a water bottle, of which she probably gulped half down before she set it down on the bench.

"Okay, c'mon. We have a lot to cover." Harry said when he felt she was lingering by the bench too much. She immediately walked back to him, and there was sense of pride that filled Harry's chest. Such a good listener, she was.

Y/N was exhausted. Her first self defense class was finally over, and it was a lot harder than she thought it'd be. They went over the basics of punching, and Harry had decided that she definitely needed to build some muscle. In the end, they practiced half an hour longer than the original hour Y/N thought the class was going to be. The regular classes were sixty minutes, so she'd just assumed.

It was also unbearable. She couldn't believe how worked up she was getting over the proximity between her and Harry. It was embarrassing, she had to be ovulating or something. Of course, it probably also had something to do with the fact that Harry was singlehandedly the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, but she shouldn't have let that distract her from her goal. She needed these classes, she needed not to be weak anymore.

After the class, Harry told her to be here at the same time next week, and she thanked him before walking out of the gym.

Harry probably didn't expect her to still stand outside ten minutes later when he walked out to lock up, but when he noticed the pouring rain, it looked like he understood.

"Did you walk?" He asked casually, locking the door. Y/N shook her head.

"Bike." She pointed to the soaking wet bicycle a few feet away.

"D'you need a ride?" He questioned, stepping towards her. Again, she shook her head.

"It's fine, I'll just wait until this blows over."

As if the universe and the weather were playing a crude joke on her, loud thunder ripped through the sky just as the sentence left her mouth. Harry tilted his head a bit.

"Yeah, no. I'm dropping you off at home." He said, and before she could protest, Harry began to walk away, right into the rain. He stepped into his car and drove over to Y/N, then got out of the car again. As he approached her, he asked:

"Where are the keys to your bike?"

Too stunned to say anything, she just handed him the keys. She was a little occupied with how hot he looked all soaking wet and— oh Jesus, she needed shock therapy.

She watched as Harry carried the bicycle and out in the trunk of his car. The grey hoodie that he must've thrown on before leaving the gym was a few shades darker now, and strands of his hair clung to his forehead. He made his way to the passenger door, and opened it, a wave of his arm gesturing for her to get in. She ran into the car, the door closing behind her with a harsh thud.

Harry ran around the car and got in himself, closing the door and turning the vehicle on immediately. Y/N's eyes went wide as Harry pulled the hoodie over his head, tugging his t-shirt up a bit along with it. She eyed the tattoos that inked his hip bones. They seemed like... leaves of some kind? She couldn't exactly make it up in such a short time because she shifted her gaze to the car window and strictly kept it there as soon as she'd realized she was staring.

"Where to?" Harry asked, but Y/N only replied with a distracted hum, not daring to take her eyes off the car window. She had never been around someone who'd made her so nervous before. Sure, she'd been awkward a whole bunch in her life, especially around her crushes in high school. But she was 23 now, she shouldn't be behaving like this around men anymore!

"Y/N?" He leaned forward, waving a hand in front of her face. She snapped her head to him.

"Oh, sorry!" She said, her tone revealing how stressed she was.

"It's okay. Just type in your address, and I'll drive you home." Harry answered sweetly. His soft, green eyes made him seem like much less of an intimidating man. That was, until one would look further down his body of course. The man was extremely jacked, and while that was very hot, it could also be quite scary. But she couldn't find any part of herself that was afraid of him.

No, he might've intimidated her, and that might've made her act like an complet fool in front of him, but she wasn't scared of him.

The silence during the car ride was mostly filled up with Harry asking Y/N questions about herself. Where she was from, what she'd studied. She, alike, returned those questions and found out a bit more about Harry's past as well.

The he was a boxer, retired two years ago, and now owned several gyms. Y/N knows she should've been taken aback a bit when she asked Harry's age and he said he was 29, but for some reason it worked the opposite for her.

Was this a topic for therapy?

She hadn't time to think too much of it, as he soon pulled up in front of her apartment complex. They both got out of the car and Harry helped carry her bicycle to a little garage for bikes at the side of the apartment.

They walked back towards the car, both drenched in water by now, and Harry turned around to say goodbye, but Y/N interrupted him.

"What do I owe you?" She asked, not caring that she was standing in the pouring rain and she was shivering from the cold. A sort of didn't want the conversation to end just yet. Harry thought it over for a few seconds, then shrugged.

"Nothing." He said, to which Y/N knitted her brows.

"But I need to pay you for the classes." She stated the obvious, at least she felt like she was.

"It was a try-out class." Harry replied with a smile.

"I already had my try-out class." She reiterated. Harry shook his head.

"That was your group try-out class, this was your private try-out class. Try-outs are always free."

Y/N bit her lip, unsure of what to say to that. Eventually she settled on something in the middle. "Fine. I'll just tip you extra good the upcoming classes."

Harry let out a laugh. "Sure, angel."

She could've sworn that her heart skipped the beat at the sound of that nickname rolling off Harry's tongue. Did he really just call her that? Y/N scanned for answers in Harry's face, and only noticed a slight shock in his eyes, but it was quickly covered up with that casual ease that always seemed to be hanging over him.

"I— I'm gonna get inside. Thank you for the ride, and the class."

Harry just gave her a small nod. "Anytime."

With that, Y/N turned around and hurried to her apartment complex, shivering by the time she got inside her own place. Her mind was racing, everything that had happened tonight kept flashing through her brain and it was like she could feel the burn of his fingers on her hips.

This was so unlike her. Unlike anything she'd ever done. Taking this class was a risk, one she'd thought being worth it, because it would bring her safety and security.

But this... these tingling feelings crashing into her like an avalanche— she hadn't felt like this since college. Hadn't had a crush become so intense in such a short time.

What the hell was she gonna do about this?

All she knew is that she couldn't stop thinking about him. Not as she got in the shower, nor as she got into bed. She kept tossing and turning until she gave into that feeling that had been nagging at her all night, her hand slowly sliding down her belly and to the sensitive ache that had been growing between her legs.

She closed her eyes and didn't even have to try to imagine Harry's hands on her again, the way he'd said those words to her. As if he wanted her to misinterpret them for something dirty.

"Can I touch you?"

"Do it again, slowly."

"That's it."

The sound of his voice ringing through her head had Y/N rubbing her fingers faster over her clit, her legs starting to close from the immense stimulation. Nevertheless, she forced herself to keep them open as she pleasured herself. Small gasps for air began leaving her body as she felt her climax coming closer and closer.

"Sure, angel."

The teasing tone in which he spoke, the playfulness in his eyes and the accent with which he said the nickname, that memory is what made her make a mess all over her fingers. A small moan even left her mouth in the sound of his name, and although no one was there to hear it, Y/N was embarrassed as she went to the bathroom, cleaned herself up, and went back to bed.

She did fall asleep quite quickly after, though. She was exhausted.

The next morning, there was a slight flutter in her stomach and a smile on her face as she opened her eyes. A new reason to get up in the morning had been making its way into her life, and she couldn't feel anything but giddy about it. Having a crush was always fun.

Despite the replaying of yesterday's practice over breakfast, and the heating of her cheeks at the memories of his words in the car on her way to work, Y/N knew that she was playing with fire by letting herself indulge in this crush. She needed to be careful not to let it go too far. A simple crush wasn't a problem, but he was her instructor and if she truly wanted to learn something in those self defense classes, she better separate business and pleasure.

With the loads of work she had to do at work, Y/N managed to drown out most of the thoughts about Harry the rest of the morning. She was finally relaxing after getting some important papers sent over—which was a stressful problem, as they had to be sent yesterday but some incompetent idiot messed up, leaving Y/N to solve it by herself first thing in the morning—when she got an e-mail from Sophie.

You are invited to

SOPHIE'S 30th BIRTHDAY PARTY

SATURDAY 5 OCTOBER

8:00pm (don't be late!)

Theme: Casino Night

Y/N stared at the invitation on her computer screen, a wide smile covering most of her face. She knew she didn't have any plans, but she still checked her agenda to make sure she was available Saturday next week. She felt like a child who'd just gotten her first ever birthday invitation. It sure felt like that.

Y/N hadn't really had such sweet friends before. Getting along with Sophie had been so incredibly easy and although she always felt like it was too good to be true and there must be some sort of trap, there never was. Sophie just enjoyed Y/N's company, and vice versa. It was like having a big sister and a best friend in one.

About five seconds after silently celebrating having received the invitation, Y/N began to stress about what present she should bring her new friend. It had to be something good. Sophie had earned a lot of money, and could basically get herself anything she wanted, so it had to be more of a sentimental gift.

Y/N had her eyes on a present already. She was very enthusiastic about it; it was something Sophie would really like.

All caught up in the excitement, she didn't notice a tall shadow standing over her until he coughed to get her attention. Y/N looked up, dread filling her stomach as she locked eyes with Oscar. She was still trying to remember how to breathe since her body just shut down out of anxiousness at the sight of him, when he started talking.

"Look, I'll keep this short, because I know you don't want to talk to me," He looked to his left and right before grabbing onto the desk and leaning over it. "but I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

Y/N could do nothing but blink at the man in front of her. What was he talking about, 'same page'?

"Things didn't really go how I thought they would that night, and I've accepted that. But I would appreciate if you wouldn't go around telling people."

"Telling people what?" The words left her mouth before she could stop herself. Originally she didn't want to utter a word in front of this man, nor did she believe she was able to, but this demand of his made her stomach twist. The way he said it, the distaste so apparent on his tongue. As if she were an inconvenience to be dealt with. He'd really mastered that heartlessness that only the cruelest of lawyers could conjure.

"You know what..." He said through clenched teeth, giving her a bit of a warning glare. The anger that boiled within her was new. She had never experienced it in such a large quantity before, and it had her acting out of character.

"What? About you assaulting me?"

The sentence had barely escaped her mouth when Oscar leaped forward a bit, frown so deep that it had made the vein in his forehead extremely prominent. She flinched at the sudden movement, tilting back into her chair. She felt the sped up pace of heartbeat as she clenched her fists, the rest of her body frozen in anticipation of what he was going to do.

"I did not assault—" he stopped himself, his crazy eyes calming a bit, as if he realized he was still in the office. "You know what, you can run to whoever you want. This firm trusts me, and they know what kind of man I am, that I would never do such a thing. Either way, it’s most likely not my job you'll be risking by bringing forth such an accusation."

Y/N had no idea what to possibly say to that. Not that Oscar gave her the chance, seeing as he backed away and walked off before she had the chance to come up with something. She began breathing more heavily with every step he took away from her.

Did he just threaten her?

A tingling pain in her hand distracted Y/N from the rabbit hole of thoughts she was just about to fall into, and when her eyes moved to see what it was, she raised her brows at the sight of blood in her hand.

Unconsciously, somewhere in between looking at the invitation and Oscar's impromptu visit, she must've grabbed the pair of scissors that were laying on the desk. She must've balled up her fists so much that she cut her hand.

Staring at the blood, a thousand thoughts running through her head, only one was the loudest.

She needed to get out of here.

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno

[sturnskiss]

imgonnagetyouback ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: matt sturniolo x popstar! reader

word count: 2.1k (holy shit)

summary: you are a world renowned popstar, and after a very public breakup with youtuber matt sturniolo, he can’t bare to watch you look hot on stage and know you’re no longer his. he’s determined to get you back.

warnings: smut obvi, p in v, fingering, swearing, use of ‘y/n’, nicknames (baby), overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t be fucking stupid), matt calling reader ‘slutty’, probably more i can’t think of

authors note: I HAVE RETURNED!! i have come back from like a two month long hiatus (HIATUS??? DONT USE BIG WORDS MATTTT) to bring you guys the much requested imgonnagetyouback inspired fic featuring popstar! reader! in my mind i see popstar! reader as sabrina carpenter/madison beer type, not necessarily looks wise just their presence. anyways i love ya and thank u for all the kind words on pretty voice :(((

you walked around stage with more confidence then ever. you questioned if fake confidence still counts as confidence, but nobody seemed to know that you’re faking it. it had been 2 weeks since your breakup with matt, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t wreck you. but you don’t want to ruin the fans experience while you’re on tour, so you maintained your confident-happy-seductive-popstar act.

you were considered the new it girl of pop music. even though you were at your worst, you were getting a lot of attention. most questions fans asked you were about the breakup, but you were trending on twitter for a week straight. fans were making sad breakup edits and update accounts were notifying everyone about the latest stuff regarding the breakup.

because of those update accounts, you knew that matt and his brothers were at your show tonight. you didn’t know why, and even though it made you sick, you got up on the stage and shook your ass and sang your little heart out.

you wore a short lilac skirt, the one that fits you like skin. it drive matt crazy; the way it matched your skin tone so perfectly and accentuated your curves. you were a humble girl, but there were times you knew just how hot you were.

you felt bittersweet about this being the last stop of your tour. you were excited you could rest and grieve and mourn your ended relationship. but you were sad because of the happiness you did feel at one point performing to your fans and the family you created with your band.

with it being the last stop of tour, your team is throwing a little party at some club nearby the venue in seattle. it was planned for weeks now, and at the time you planned it, you added matt and his brothers name to the guest list. and you didn’t have the guts to remove it after the breakup, you didn’t even think you needed to because why would he show up? you regret it as you look at him from your spot on stage. he’s standing on the balcony with his brothers, and he looks guilty and mad at the same time. you quickly look away before you became sick, like how you normally feel seeing his face anywhere.

you say your goodbyes to the crowd and walk off stage as confetti shoots from the ceiling. you make your way backstage where your team awaits you, showering you with compliments and praises. the usual ‘you did so great tonight’ shit. matt used to be the first one to compliment you after a show, whispering sweet things in your ear; odd compliments that nobody else would tell you but that’s why they meant so much. you shake the thought of him from your mind as you pray that he won’t attend the party later tonight.

standing at the bar like somethings funny, bubbly.

God didn’t answer your prayers, unfortunately. you stood talking to one of your best friends, madison beer, but instead of keeping eye contact with her as she talks to you, your eyes are on matt. he’s on the other corner of the room by the bar, with his brothers. chris is sipping on a pepsi, nick with a dr. pepper, and matt has nothing in his hands. he glances over to you and goes back to his conversation with chris. he laughs and you wonder what he’s laughing at, you brush it off and engage in your conversation with madison.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. an endless stream of curse words run through your mind because knowing he’s in the same room as you, at your party, is driving you insane. you wander through the crowds, making small talk but never staying with the same people for long. you sneak a quick look at matt who seems oddly bubbly while he’s talking to some blonde girl. as if he can feel your stare, he looks at you and makes a face. not a disgusted face, but one that reads ‘i see you too.’

an hour or two passes and i see some blonde girl approach him, and i know he wouldn’t *dare*. while we technically can see other people, we were never *not* each others. the blonde girl, who had to have been someone’s plus one cause i know damn well i didn’t invite her, is so obviously flirting with him. how bold of her! he seems uninterested but he’s still talking to her, which makes me feel sick. i hate he still has that effect on me.

say you got somebody, i’ll say i got someone too.

i know it’s petty, but i just want him to know that i can have someone too. i walk up to the first boy that i see, making small talk and his eyes almost pop out of his head when he realizes who i am. i can feel matt’s stare from across the room. i have zero interest in this guy i’m talking to, i just want to piss matt off. i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing. i tell all of my friends that i hate him, but i go fucking crazy when i see him or hear anything about him.

part of me wants to yell at him and curse him out, and the other half wants to take him back to my hotel. your phone is tucked into the neckline of your dress, feeling it vibrate. you smile at the stranger and pull your phone out, matt’s name on your lockscreen. you look over and see him staring at you. it definitely worked, this man is furious.

ten minutes later, you wait in the gender neutral bathroom. you apply more lipgloss in the mirror when matt walks in, quickly locking the door behind him.

“you hate parties,” you mutter as you layer on more mauve lipgloss, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

he shrugs, “yeah, but i don’t hate you.”

you roll your eyes, “well, i hate you.”

he laughs dryly, “yeah? how come you’re here then? in this bathroom with me, with the door locked?” he says, walking up behind you. you can feel his bulge against your ass.

you sigh and turn around, less than an inch of distance between you. “i hate you.”

he nods, “for sure.” he brings his thumb to your glossed lips, smirking. “so pretty.”

before you could even think twice, you’re sitting on the sink, wrapping your legs around matt’s waist, making out. maybe if you were sober you wouldn’t be in this situation, but if you were sober you probably would have wanted it more.

“hate you so much,” you mumble in between sloppy kisses.

“i know,” he mutters. he taps your thighs, signaling for you to spread them more. and of course, you do. he reaches his hand under your dress, pulling your panties to the side. he does all of this without breaking your kiss, too. and to no one’s surprise, you’re soaked.

he looks up at you, “you hate me so much but you’re soaking wet? doesn’t make sense.” he says.

“stop talking,” you whine.

he plunges two fingers into your cunt, and your hand immediately flies to your mouth. while it isn’t out of the ordinary to have sex in a bathroom at a club, you don’t want people to know it’s you.

he uses his other hand and pulls your hand away from your mouth. “let ‘em hear you.”

he continues fingering you until he feels your walls clench down on his fingers, and he pulls them out.

“matt!” you whine.

he nods, “i know, baby.” matt loves to edge you, and it pisses you off.

you roll your eyes and push him away, hopping off the sink. “no, i really do hate you.”

matt rolls his eyes, “oh, here we go again with that bullshit.”

you’re about to unlock the door and walk out of it before matt stops you. he swats your hand away from the door knob and walks closer to you until you’re up against the door.

“off,” he says, tugging at the fabric of your dress. and even though you said you hated him 5 seconds ago, you obey him.

he helps you wiggle out of your dress, you step out of it and slide it across the bathroom.

matt takes his belt off and unbuttons his jeans, you slide his boxers down to his ankles along with his jeans.

you’re still against the door when matt says, “jump.” you quickly obey, wrapping your legs around his hips. he uses the door to help not drop you, and you’re sure your back will hurt and have some bruises after this.

his dick is firmly pressing against your clit, and matt uses one arm to support you and the other to slide his dick inside your entrance. you hadn’t had his cock in a couple months, and it’s like it’s the first time again.

“oh fuck,” he groans. “still so tight. none of the other guys can stretch you like i do, huh?” he whispers into your ear.

“shut up and fuck me already, matt.” you reply bitterly.

“if you say so,” he whispers before bucking his hips into you so hard you think you might have a bruise.

“oh!” you gasp.

matt maintains eye contact with you, “you miss this dick?”

you nod as he continues to fuck into you, the door rattling against you.

“i don’t believe that, use your words, y/n.” he teases.

“i missed— oh fuck, missed your dick,” you whimper.

he pushed you harder against the door behind you so he could use his other hand to rub circles on your clit.

“well, i missed this pussy too. know it missed me back.”

your hole fluttered at his words which made him let out a soft groan. you felt his dick everywhere, in your soul.

he moved his hand away from your clit, leaving you trembling.

“m’back hurts,” you whined as he slid his dick in and out of you.

matt looked at you with sympathy, “i know baby… but we’re in a bathroom cause you’re jus’ so needy, so there’s not much room for me to fuck you like i want.”

this was true.

he rammed into you harder and faster, causing you to let out an almost pornographic shriek.

matt dryly laughed, “sound so pretty. such a pretty voice.”

you knew how much matt loved your career. the most famous pop girl at the moment wrapped around his finger. he loved watching your shows and seeing how all your female fans would bring their boyfriends to a concert and he’d watch their intense stares as you pranced around on stage in nothing but a tiny dress and heels. everyone wanted to fuck you or be you, and he loved that you were his in every way. but after the breakup, he’s gotten angry so of course he has to make up for lost time with a very intense fuck.

he slammed into you and pulled out just as quick, repeating this until he can feel your walls tightening against his lengthy cock.

“c’mon, baby. know your close, give it to me.” he whispered in your ear.

“oh god,” you moaned.

matt stopped fucking you, “s’not my name, baby.”

you whined, “fuck me, matt.” you said, putting emphasis on his name.

he smiled and started pounding into you again. “good job, baby. love when you use that pretty lil voice of yours.”

your nails scratched artwork onto his back, maybe breaking skin but matt didn’t mind at all.

“you gonna cum?” he taunted.

you nodded, “matt!”

“cum for me baby,” he demanded.

“oh god! oh, oh matt!” you said it correctly this time as your orgasm ripped through you. the first genuinely good one in two weeks.

matt didn’t slow down, he stayed fucking you through your orgasm.

“can’t!” you yelled.

matt shook his head, “you can. jus’ gimme one more. one more.”

you shut your eyes tightly gripping onto his back as tight as you can. you start squirming as your next orgasm approaches.

“m’cumming! oh! matt, i’m cumming!”

he nods, “i know baby.”

after you come down from your orgasm high, matt helps you adjust yourself so you look presentable to go back out into your party.

you reapply your lip gloss and run your fingers through your hair, combing them out. you fix your dress while matt hands you your panties.

“well, it was nice seeing you.” you say sweetly, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“very nice.” he says with a smirk on his face. he adjusts his hair too before unlocking the door and holding it open for you. you’re greeted by a long line of upset faces waiting to use the bathroom.

you and matt make side eye each other as you walk away from the crowd, giggling.

you and matt both know you were never not each others.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"doing laundry and taxes with you" ft. the monster trio!

ft. (domestic!) luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader in which, you make their house a home (a/n: im sick and needed some comfort so this got very long im so sorry!!) warnings: nsfw towards the end! nsfw stuff includes car-sex, in public, dirty talk, rough sex, penetration, squirting, sanji takes a picture of you choking on his dic- (ahem, not sorry); MDNI (thankyou very much okay byee) m.list

luffy:

they are so precious to me 😭😭

- whatever you do, don't imagine domestic!luffy - don't imagine cold mornings when you're under the cover with him. he's holding you tightly, snuggling against you and whispering a soft, "good morning, baby" - do not imagine him coming back from home and holding you by your waist when you're doing something, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as you asks you how your day was - don't think of him as one of those guys who start a tickle fight when poke him once and laugh at him - absolutely do not imagine his as one of those s/o who are down to make everything into a game "whoever loses mario-kart makes the dinner, okay?" he grins, pulling you down onto the couch with him "oh really?" you laugh when he holds you tighter, "i really want some pasta tonight then" - he ended up making pasta that night - but as i said, don't imagine luffy as that because he is certainly that man and more - he will fret over you when you fall sick, trying to make you laugh your way out of a fever (canon). he won't leave your side, no matter how much you insist that you're fine "what do you need? water? soup? pizza- oh wait no that's unhealthy" a pause, "wait, do you want a pizza? it'll probably be fine if you eat one tbh, right??" - also the kind of guy who will ask his friends to turn their car around (because in no parallel universe do i believe luffy knows how to drive ffs) because you only said "love ya" and missed the i (how dare you, he's heartbroken now) "yn!!" he's yelling from the driveway, "YOU FORGOT TO SAY I LOVE YOU!!" so now you're sticking out your head out of your apartment window, looking down at a pouty luffy, annoyed zoro and unbothered sanji - also, man has TERRIBLE separation anxiety - (people now know that wherever you are invited, luffy is invited too "what are you doing here?" nami hisses as she vaguely looks at luffy, "this is supposed to be a girls night out!" luffy shrugs, "pretend im not even here" yeah, luffy that's kinda hard when you're practically draped over your girlfriend the entire night) - but as it's been established, don't fall for his perfect acts because he is the kind to park in a distant corner of a grocery store parking lot and beg for you to let him fuck you "it'll be quick," he's whining, tugging you towards himself and kissing you senseless, "baby, i promise. just one hit." - he's feral, holding you flush against himself as he fucked you with your top still on and your hands holding tightly against his neck - your arousal drips into his thigh and he's groaning about how good you feel, you feel him thrust into you harder and now you're spasming and cumming around his girth - he didn't infact let you go after one hit. - you both walked into the grocery store 37 mins later with your faces flushed, hair tousled and a familiarly uncomfortable wetness nesting between your thighs - (cause i know he's fucking nasty and he will absolutely make you walk into that store with his essence still inside you. sorry, i do not make the rules :/) - eitherways, best guy ever - he's the perfect s/o that never lets you have a dull moment in your life as long as his annoying ass is around

zoro:

- i will stand by what i've always said. soft zoro is the best zoro. 'nuff said, i will die on this hill. - but god, nobody can ever imagine how soft domestic!zoro is with you by the way he shrugs and grunts off any and all people around him (except for his crew) - frankly speaking, you didn't expect this either when you started dating him - you would have never imagined this green-haired, stoic-faced, dry-ass motherfucker to hold onto you tightly and lightly close his eyes whenever you forced him to see another horror movie - he claimed watching horror movies was the equivalent of mind torture but followed along cause you seem to like them (you don't probably like them that much, you just like his heavy figure against yours as he snuggles in deeper and deeper against you) "this is so stupid" he hisses at the girl in the screen, groaning when she blatantly ignores him, "she will die if she follows the fucking voice!!" you don't fail to notice how shrill his deep voice can get whenever there's a jumpscare (but he will blame the wind for that noise, never admits what he knows is true) - he is so soft in the way he offers to shampoo your hair when you drag him into the shower. his calloused fingers are light, gentle, against your scalp and you can't help but smile when he flashes you a small smile and asks if it's fine - domestic!zoro is so soft in the way he would carry you bridal-style/on his back everywhere (wdym you only had to go to the kitchen?? he can carry you there, he's strong, do you not believe him?) - also, we all have sorta established that he's not a pda guy but my lord, behind those four walls, he needs to be around you one way or the other - doesn't matter if he is just standing at the bathroom door, making small talk as you do your skincare for the night or he's holding onto your hand as you both lay sprawled on your bed, looking at your phones - but don't let his softness make you forget that this man is a piece of shit. - he will purposely stand in front of cabinets and cupboards when you cook and flash you a innocent smile when you get annoyed; he will finish your favourite conditioner even though he said "i don't that conditioner too much"; he will purposely order you random stuff online and everytime you'd open it thinking it's something cute but it'll end up being something green and (cutely) stupid - (you now possess 5 mushroom figurines, 12 frogs doing random shit, a green cheap light saber, a lowkey-fucked up painting of baby yoda and green paper-clips. he doesn't even like green all that much, he just loves to annoy you) - but as i said, don't fall for his sweet facade because he will stop you at the door and fuck you against it before you're heading out in that skimpy dress (yes, he fucks you in that dress) (ofcourse he doesn't mind your dress riding up as long as people can see the marks he left on your body) "ah" he groans, thrusting upwards as one of his hands hold you firm against the door and another plays with your swollen clit, "sorry for ruinin' your makeup, baby. but look at you, you look so pretty, getting fucked right now" - he's sure the neighbours can hear the wood creaking against your weights and your high-pitched, feverish moans as you beg him to fuck you harder (it's the fourth time this month) - he forces his fingers (which were slick with your arousal) down your mouth and watches as his fingers rub away the lipstick into modern art "much better" he would sigh against your skin when he was done, "have fun at the party, babe" - he holds back a laugh cause he knows you can barely walk, much less party (not to mention, you gotta re-do your makeup now.) - so he goes with you, lending you his arm as support so that you wouldn't walk so wobbly "that dress still looks too good on you" he will whisper against your ear, "meet me in the bathroom in five, let me fuck you again" - as much as he is a menace, you wouldn't have it any other way - god, iamsodownbad for him <3

sanji:

it's him officer, he is the one who altered my brain chemistry!

- vinsmoke sanji is the perfect pinterest boyfriend. argue with the wall, i don't entertain wrong views. - what i mean is, he is the boyfriend/husband who will be up to bake a cake at 3 in the morning and eat it with you as the sun rises, he is the one who will hold you hand and groggily lead you to an ice-cream vendor at 1 in the night because you really wanted ice-cream, he is the one to take a thousand photos in any outfit you wear "yn" he's changing his angles every second, shutter of the camera snapping photo after photo, "you look so beautiful, so marvelous, charming, ah- mesmerizing, my love!" - he is the guy to hold your hand in a horror house no matter how scared he himself is. but you call tell by the way his fingers tightly close around yours whenever a jump-scare comes on (no, he is not being strong because he wants to look tough in front of zoro, tf you talking about??) - he is the man who will be looking for halloween decor on the first of september and christmas decor on the first of novemeber, takes the task of decorating his house very seriously (yes, he will out-do linda this time! so what if she bought a life-sized snowman?? he will pay luffy to become one, fuck linda.) - sanji is the guy that posts his girlfriend religiously (at one point, ussop asked you if you were holding him on gun-point and making him post you so much) - by religiously i mean for every one photo of himself, there's six of you like baby calm down nobody's gonna take her away - he also surprises you a lot (with nice surprises, unlike zoro.); he bought you a candle on your one-month anniversary and repurchases it every time you run through it - grocery store runs followed by cooking together is basically your idea of a weekly date - very on-brand with his theme but he has so many candids of you (a whole secret album with the title "my love <3"). there's pictures of you laughing at chopper's new onesie, hitting luffy in the face after he stole your sushi, tasting his cookies, tasting his dic- ahem. - it shouldn't come as any surprise that he has a huge thing for clicking pictures/ taking videos of you as he abuses your body in a way that has you crying for god "san-" "like that, moan out my fuckin' name, darling. tell me who's fucking you like this?" "you" you moan harder, eyes clamping shut, "you you, fucc-k you, sanji" - there's a video on his phone of his dick sliding in and out of your wet cunt as you moan and suck on your bottom lip; there's pictures of you sucking on his dick, giving the camera your prettiest doe-eyed look; there's a video of you squirting around his fingers, face red and body soaked as he keeps going and you're cumming a second, third, fourth time (that's his favourite video, it's insane how many times he comes back to that video) - he loves ruining you with slow sex as he makes you focus on the boring movie or show you're both watching - he gets off off how you try to maintain your composure but then come undone "yn, my love" he rasps in your ear, "come on, keep holding on for me. i'm gonna fuck you so well if you just keep taking me like this." - he ruins you and then gets you the best aftercare - ugh stan sanji for a good life.

a/n: the way i write sanji has me confused as to if i truly am a zoro girlie lmaoo. hope you liked it!! req are always open (also im sorry to the people who requested and i havent gotten around to it, i am just running low on fuel lately) m.list

[bobafetts-princess]

Stranger and the Bear Pt2

Summary: Logan has literally tossed your ex out of the bar and taken you upstairs to your apartment. Sexy stuff follows 👀👀

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut. Lots of it. Oral (both receiving). PiV. Condoms don’t exist on this blog (use them irl, pls). Hair pulling, Logan talks dirty. God I want him to blow my back out.

A/N: If you’ve seen this on ao3, I’m the same person! I have Logan brain rot 😩

Pt. 1 can be found here!

“Thank you, Logan. I really mean that.” You said, trying to interject as much appreciation into your voice as possible.

“There’s nothing you need to thank me for,” Logan said, glancing over at you. You finished your first beer, getting up off the couch again to get another. You heard the couch shift and heard Logan ask where the trash can was but when you turned to tell him, he was right there. Logan was close enough that you were almost chest to chest, the only time you’ve ever been thankful for a small kitchen. He’s tall, definitely taller than you, and when you glance up at him you can see the desire in his features. You aren’t sure which one of you makes the first move, you just know that one second he’s in front of you and the next second his lips are on yours. Their softness surprises you, but the way he grabs at your body is anything but soft.

“God, please tell me you want this,” he groans, his lips sucking at a soft spot on your neck. “I’ve wanted this for weeks,” he says, large hand cupping your ass.

“I want this. I’ve thought about this so many times over the past couple months.” You admit, gasping at the feel of his mouth on your skin. And you had, countless nights you’d envisioned what he’d be like in your bed. Would he be rough? You thought so. Would he be vocal? Definitely, you felt like. Was he dominant? Did he like to pull hair? You definitely felt like your questions were going to be answered soon and you couldn’t wait.

“Fuck, Bear. I’ve thought about this so many times. Do you understand how much I've wanted to bend you over the bar top?” He told you, running his hands up and down your sides, kissing you in between his words.

“Me too.” You admitted, hot at the fact that he thought about you in that matter.

“You’re gonna look so fuckin’ good stuffed with my cock.” He said and his words made something hot shoot through your body as his hands worked their way into your hair, pulling your body against his. Vocal was definitely a yes. His lips seal over yours and you lean into him, hands on his strong shoulders.

“Fuck Bear,” He grunts, breaking the kiss to work his way down your neck. Suddenly, his hands grasp under your ass, lifting you and settling your core against his hardening length. You gasp, arching, and his lips find a sweet spot on your collarbone, making you groan. He walks through your apartment, but his legs were so long and your apartment was so small that it only took him four large strides to make it from the refrigerator to the bed where he laid you down. Your legs were still hooked around his hips, but he stood as straight as he could and looked down at you. His hand cupped your cheek and he slid it around to grasp your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you so good tonight." He promises and you shiver, grinding down on his cock through your combined sets of jeans.

His hands reach behind his back and unlock your legs from his hips, placing your feet on the floor. You whimpered at the loss of contact but Logan chided you.

“I gotta get these off, you impatient brat.” He said, his tone affectionate. He undoes the button on your jeans with a flick of his wrist. “And this,” He says, shifting the material of your top up. “As much as I love it, it’s gotta come off for all the things I’ve got planned for you.” His promises make you pant with need and excitement. His strong hands pull your jeans down your legs, admiring the little pink panties you had on. His fingers tug at the little bow on the front before his attention switches and he’s taking your top and bra off.

“God,” he says, cupping your breasts. “They’re as perfect as I thought they would be,” you flush and gasp when his rough fingers find your nipples and pinch. He takes his time worshipping your body, finding all the spots that made you arch, groan and let out breathy moans tainted with his name. His mouth works across your body, sucking on some spots and nibbling on others. His hands cup your breasts, his teeth pulling at your nipples and you found yourself already heading towards the edge. His hands finally work their way into your panties, covering the tips of his fingers with your slick before moving up to circle your clit. You gasp his name and he pulls back from your breast to look at you. “Can I take these off?” You nod and he strips you of them as he drops to his knees.

“What a pretty pussy,” he whispers, almost to himself as he presses two fingers inside you and It feels so good that you can’t even get a full sentence out. You need more but your words are stuck in your throat.

“Please,” you choke out, making Logan’s ears prick.

“Ask me again.” He demands.

“Please. Please more,” you tell him, voice stronger. His other hand comes down to touch your clit and you cry out his name.

“You like that, baby?”

“Fuck. Yes Logan.” You tell him, rocking your hips down on his fingers at a steady pace. He lets you take what you need, keeping the pressure steady. Fuck, you’re so close to the edge but you need something more. You don’t even have the chance to ask for more because Logan senses it. He shifts so one hand is inside you, one hand is pulling at your nipple, and then he leans down to give your pretty, neglected clit some attention.

“You’re going to taste so good,” he says before he leans down to get a taste. He groans before increasing his pace, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you can’t hold off any longer. “Cum for me,” he tells you, “please,” and it’s his need to see you get off that finally pushes you over the edge. He works you through it, talking to you the entire time but everything sounds like you’re underwater so you couldn’t recall what he said even if you tried.

“Fuck.” He says once your breathing returns to normal, “you look so pretty when you come.” He kisses his way up your body before reaching your lips, this kiss full of passion and need. His clothes are still on and you make it a personal mission to get them off. You push the jacket down his shoulders, refusing to break the kiss. You toss it in a corner of the room before lowering your hands to work his belt buckle and jeans.

You get the belt off and the button popped, using your toes to get his jeans pushed down his well muscled thighs. He steps out of them, kiss becoming more rough and needy as he does. You slide your body off the bed, breaking the kiss, but when your hands go to pull off his underwear, you’re surprised to find he isn’t wearing any. He smirks at you then his pulls his white tank off, leaving him completely naked. You take a moment to enjoy the view, his hairy and well muscled body standing before you. You move and take Logan’s cock in your hand. He hisses through his teeth at your touch, his muscles rippling with restraint. He was thick. Thick thick. Not uncomfortably long, but definitely big enough to stuff you full. You take his head into your mouth, swallowing him down. His hands dig into your hair, the slight tug sending jolts down to your pussy.

“Ah. Fuck.” He grunts as you wrap your hands around him, swallowing his thickness inch by inch. “Fuck. That mouth is as good as I imagined.” He tells you, spurring you on. The hands surrounding him worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, eliciting more moans from him. You did your best to deep-throat him, going until you gagged. You started a good pace, taking as much of him in as you could, his hands in your hair encouraging you along. The longer you sucked, the rougher he got, pushing and pulling for you instead of with you. You loved it though, it turned you on. You let go, allowing Logan to work your mouth up and down his cock, hands stroking what you couldn’t fit. His grunts and growls became louder and louder as he raced towards his end but before you knew it, he was pulling you off. He grabs you by the elbow, roughly but carefully, and tosses you face down on the bed.

“As fuckin’ amazing as that mouth is, I wanna come inside this.” He said, two finger stroking down your pussy before plunging inside. He thrust into you roughly and you meet him stroke for stroke until he pulls out. You whined, close, but the head of his cock lined up with your entrance instead.


"Don't worry princess, you'll be full in jus' a second." He begins pushing inside, the stretch deliciously painful, Logan taking it slow so he doesn’t hurt you. He feeds you inch by inch until he bottoms out with a feral grunt.

“Fuck. Bear. This pussy will be the death of me.” He tells you, hand finding your hair and pulling you backward, asking if you were okay. When you tell him that you’re fine, you like it, he pulls a little harder. Your back arches, and he starts a rough pace, the angle allowing him deep with each thrust. You’re so keyed up already that it doesn’t take you long to reach the edge again. You reach between your legs to circle your clit, clamping down on Logan’s cock as the pleasure shoots through your body. “Fuck,” he grunts, “that’s right baby girl, touch your pretty pussy for me. I want to know what it feels like when you come all over my cock.” His words send you spiraling and you come again, crying out Logan’s name as you do.

When you come down, he let go of your hair and lets you fall naturally onto the bed, his hands digging into your hips as he holds you in place. He’s giving it to you, snarling his pleasure as he thrusts in and out of your ‘sweet pussy’ (his words).

Eventually he pulls out, flipping you over onto your back and sliding back in. One hand finds your breasts, pinching and pulling your nipples while the other finds the back of your neck, holding you in place so that he can kiss you as he fucks you. Your hands found his wrist instinctually, but you weren’t worried, you had a feeling that your stranger, your Logan, would never hurt you. His breathing is heavy in your ear as he sucks an earlobe into his mouth, biting down on the sensitive skin. It makes you gasp and tug at the hairs on the back of his neck, where your own hand was. His hips sputtered, his consistent pace breaking and you knew he was close. You fluttered your walls around him, and the hand that was around your neck moves to stroke your clit instead. You come undone for a third time, screaming your pleasure as you squeeze around him.

“Can I come inside you? Do you want me to pull out?” He asks and you think you’ll die if you don’t feel him coming inside you. So you tell him to come inside you and he groans, dropping his head to the curve of your shoulder.

He buries himself to the hilt and lets out an animalistic snarl as he reaches his end. His upper body collapses onto yours, his heavy build a nice pressure to ground you. He lays there for a moment, slowing his breathing until it was normal. He wraps both arms around your lower back, lifting the both of you as he locks his lips with yours. He starts the short walk to the bathroom and you wish it was longer because the man could KISS. He fumbles around the sink, grabbing the washcloth on the edge and running it under warm water, kiss never breaking and Logan never setting you down. He walks out of the bathroom, but turns, pressing your back up against the wall. He was still hard and you were still wet, so he slipped in easily and thrust lazily into you, never breaking the kiss.

“Fuck. This pussy is so good.” He says, thrusts becoming stronger and deeper as he finally broke the kiss. “I’m sensitive. I won’t last long.” He admits, teeth catching the shell of your ear as another orgasm built inside you.

“Me too.” Was all you could manage. His fingers plucked at your nipples and his teeth nibbled around where your shoulders and neck met. His thumb circles your clit, his thrusts hard and rough now, his hips moving at a relentless pace. Your orgasm hits with a vengeance and you clench hard against him, triggering his own orgasm. He roars, driving himself upwards and biting down on your shoulder, harder than any bite before this but god, it feels so good. Sated, he walks back to your bed, but he’s more exhausted than he’s letting on because once he lays you down gently, he collapses next to you.

“You okay?” He asks and your hand cups his cheek as he rolls to face you.

“I’m great,” you smile. “How about you?”

“Never been better,” and you get the feeling he’s being completely honest. After a few moments he takes the washcloth and wipes you clean, then himself and tosses it into the hamper.

He settles back in next to you, the both of you naked but Logan is warm and his natural heat wraps around you as he does. It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion to hit you and once Logan covers you up with the blankets, you’re quick to fall asleep. Logan, for the first time in years, sleeps soundly next to another human being.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The part where Jeremiah’s like if I start kissing you I’m scared I won’t be able to stop or something like that! Chills

My Jeremiah stuff keeps flopping, why are you doing this to me...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Under the moonlit sky of the golf course, everyone was getting ready for bed. Steven and Taylor had gotten tablecloths and cushions from the debutante ballroom. It wasn’t as comfortable as a real bed, but it was better than sleeping on the grass. At least it was summer. And thank god it wasn’t pouring rain.

Not feeling tired yet, you decided to walk around. These past nights, your dreams have been haunted by bright blue eyes and a sweet smile, as if pressing you to make a move on Jeremiah Fisher. You shared a kiss on the boardwalk last summer and didn’t stop thinking about it all year. It was embarrassingly pathetic.

Talking about Jeremiah, you spotted him by the golf cart, folding tablecloths to make blankets. A smile curled on your lips and you walked toward him. 

‘’Hey, Jere.’’ 

‘’Hey,’’ he returned, short and dry. 

A frown drew between your eyebrows. ‘’Do you want to go inside and finish the movie?’’ 

‘’Not really. It’s kinda late.’’ He continued folding the tablecloths, completely ignoring you. 

‘’Oh. Okay.’’ You nodded, understanding. It was late. ‘’If you ever need a place to sleep tomorrow night, you can come to my house. I’m sure my parents—’’ 

‘’That’s very kind of you, but no thanks.’’ 

You lowered your eyes at the grass, watching it slip between your toes in your sandals. You were trying to be kind, but he obviously didn't want your help. 

He was still upset about the house and his aunt and dad teaming up to sell it, but there was something else. Something related to you. 

Last night, on the boardwalk, he was sweet and touchy and even gave you some of his candy he and the boys won. Now, he was a different person. Cold. Distant. It’s like he didn’t want to talk to you, to be with you.

You could only think of one thing related to you that Jeremiah could be acting strange over. 

‘’Is it because of the kiss we shared last summer?’’

You hadn't talked about it since it happened and kisses often make things awkward in friendships.

Jeremiah shook his head. ‘’It’s not that,’’ he said. ‘’I…I liked the kiss.’’ 

‘’Then why do you keep pushing me away? Since you arrived in Cousins, you’ve been so confusing. You almost hold my hand in the theater and now you push me away like I have plague. I can’t decipher those mixed signals, Jeremiah. I'm not a detective, I'm a teenage girl.’’

With a deep breath, Jeremiah looked directly into your eyes. ‘’Because when I’m alone with you, all I think about is kissing you and if I kiss you, I don’t know that I can ever stop.’’

His words hung in the air, mixing with the crickets' chirp, a confession of feelings you were not expecting to hear tonight — or ever. Your heart started beating faster in your chest, realizing that you had been wrong about Jeremiah. He wasn’t giving you mixed signals because he was playing with you, he was giving you mixed signals because he was scared of his feelings for you. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jeremiah spoke first. 

‘’Life has been really hard these past months, but I never wanted to push you away. I wanted to call you after our kiss, I wanted to ask you on a date and hold your hand and kiss you again. But I found out about my mom and I couldn’t think about anything else,’’ he admitted, his voice soft and earnest. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, but you didn’t see any. 

‘’When I saw you at Rosie’s, I was so happy.’’ A genuine soft smile tugged at his lips, thinking back to two days ago. ‘’Seeing you face to face is much better than through your instagram.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at him. ‘’You stalked my instagram?’’ 

Jeremiah covered his face and groaned, embarrassed. ‘’Is that all you picked up?’’ 

You uncovered his face and intertwined your fingers with his. ‘’No, but it’s an interesting anecdote. I didn’t know you were the type of guy who stalked girls on social media.’’ 

‘’I’m not!’’ he defended, regretting saying that now.

‘’I know.’’ You chuckled. ‘’I’m just teasing you.’’ 

A sense of warmth and comfort enveloped the two of you, the tension that had been lingering between you dissipating. Although all of your friends were sleeping a few meters nearby, it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you. Especially when you looked up into his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in their beauty and forget everything else.

Jeremiah let out a small laugh, relieved that you were taking his confession and embarrassment in good spirits. He looked down at your lips, thinking about the last time he tasted the vanilla cupcake lip gloss on them. Were you still wearing the same? It probably wore off by now, but Jeremiah was dying to know if you tasted the same. 

Taking a small breath of courage, he leaned in closer, closing the distance between you and gently pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and tender, Jeremiah’s hand coming to cup your face gently while yours reached his shoulder to pull him down to your height. 

When you broke apart, you smiled against his lips, dying to kiss him again. ‘’Do you want to set your blanket next to mine?’’ you suggested, glints of hope in your eyes.

Jeremiah nodded. ‘’If that’s okay with you.’’

—

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[theglitterypages]

Haikyu Boys Caught With Their Best Friend's Sister (Featuring Kuro Tetsuro)

Kuro knows how wrong this is but he did everything in his power to not fall for his best friend's sister. It's been a month since he started dating you behind your brother's back, he knows that it's disrespectful and he's risking his friendship with Kenma, knowing how much he adores you. But Kuro waited for so long, and fought his feelings it made his chest tighten whenever he'll see you but can only pretend to see you as a younger sister.

He treasures his friendship with Kenma but the way your skin feels warm and hot against his hands makes his brain malfunction, all he could think is how every inch of you must be worshipped, he breatehs into your skin, gently nipping, and marking the parts that his lips could reach as you arch your back and rake your fingers in his scalp. "T-Tetsu…" you chanted his name like a prayer and Kuro felt the last fiber of control he has in him snap just by hearing your sinful voice call out his name.

He met your eyes, his hand still roaming underneath your shirt as you sigh in pleasure. "Use your words, love. Tell me what you want…" he teased, gently nibbling on your ear and you groaned in frustration, earning a laugh from the man on top of you.

"God, I love you so much YN." he whispered leaning down to kiss you on your lips.

He lets you settle on his lap, his hands still under your shirt as you both try to watch the movie. He's kissing your nape, while his eyes was fixed on the television. "Love…" he breathed, calling your attention. "Why?" you asked, turning to face him.

Kuro took his hands out from under your shirt with a sigh before kissing the tip of your nose, "A-Are you ready to tell Kenma?" he asked, his hands finding yours, massaging it gently before kissing the back of it.

You know how conflicted he must feel, he wouldn't have hide this relationship if not for your request to not let your brother know. You were worried about how Kenma would react and you wouldn't want to be part from Kuro.

"Soon, love. I promise…" you whispered, hugging him, letting him bury his face on your neck.

Kuro held you tightly, even if his chest if filled with worry, he let himself find peace as he holds you in his arms.

But that peace was soon cut off when the doorbell rang and you both were snatched away from your little safe paradise.

Kuro looked at you, waiting for your confirmation of who might be the visitor but the moment you jumped out his arms, Kuro knew who's outside.

"Oh shit, that's my brother. Oh my God, Tetsu you need to hide!"

Kuro didn't have any chance to think when you pushed him towards the bathroom and locked it before you went to open the door to greet your brother.

Kuro pressed his ear agains the door, his jaw clenching as he looked down at the tent on his pants. "Fuck shit." he cussed, he knew it, he knew that it wouldn't be long till his luck ran out but still, he couldn't feel any regret because every stolen moment he had with you was the best of his life, if your relationship might cause a problem with his friendship with Kenma, he would take all the blame.

Kenma walked inside your flat with his usual bored expression, "Is this a bad time?" he asked, examining your flustered look and heavy breaths. Your eyes widened and shook your head, "N-No, I-I was just cleaning and kinda forgot you'll drop off some of my things." it wasn't long since you moved out of your parents' home so you still have some of your stuffs left in there and Kenma volunteered to bring your stuffs so you won't have to do it.

You were just so caught up with Kuro's sinful touch that you forgot that he's coming over tonight.

"Okay…" he handed a bag to you. "Mom said not to bring all of your stuffs, she said she'd like your room there to stay that way." he told you, his eyes scanning your flat as if taking in the details. His eyes carefully scanned your furnitures, his head tilting a little as he tried to take a look of the kitchen, before they went back to meet your eyes.

"Your flat looks way better than last time, you decorated well."

You could only nod your head, usually your brother won't stay for so long to say stuffs like this does he miss you or he's just trying to torment you? "Y-Yeah, I just looked at some Pinterest inspo and stuffs…"

"Cool, hey can I use your bathroom real quick?"

You internally panicked and your instinct kicks in, holding onto your brother's sleeve before he could take another step closer towards your bathroom. "I-I haven't cleaned it yet….it's clogged and I-" Kenma looked down on your hand gripping his sleeve, "You don't know how to fix a clogged toilet? How are you gonna live alone? I'll fix it for you." Kenma removed you hands off his sleeve and walked over to the bathroom, opening the door.

Kuro couldn't hear anything no matter how hard he tries to press his ear against the door, even if he hears some noise, it's all muffled and inaudible, his heart hammers against his chest but he chose to stay calm waiting for you to come and open the door, so when he heard the doorknob click, he sighed in relief but his face went pale when he saw his best friend's face when the door opened.

Kenma was stunned, and there was a dead silence between the three of you. But when he was able to came back to his senses, he looked at Kuro from head to toe, and he saw that he's holding his shirt in his right hand and Kenma looked at him with lazy eyes.

"I knew that you've been hiding a boy for a month now but never in my wildest dreams that I imagined it to be Kuro."

That was the only thing that came out Kenma's mind, in fact, those words were blurted out without any careful thought process, it wasjust him simply stating the fact in front of him, his best friend shirtless hiding in your bathroom, looking flustered as he meet his gaze.

Kenma has suspicions that you are dating someone but he never imagined that it would be Kuro, though he wouldn't deny the way his best friends' gaze lingers on you whenever he thinks that he's not looking. A part of Kenma believed that Kuro wouldn't do anything without consulting him.

He doesn't know what to feel, his best friend and his sister, two of the most important people in his lives hiding like criminals, not trusting that he would understand the situation, as if he'll take it out agains them for falling in love.

He felt a pang of pain in his chest when he came up with that realization. But didn't say anything and wiats for you and Kuro to try and talk for yourselves.

Kuro couldn't utter a word, not when he couldn't decipher the tone laced in Kenma's voice.

"L-Let me explain, I was the one who pursued YN,I fell in love first. I'm the one to blame."

You went to Kuro's side to hold his hand, "But I was the one who wanted to keep it a secret…I was scared and…I don't want you to be mad. I-I love him, Ni-chan." you admitted honestly, squeezing Kuro's hand to tell him that you're in this mess together.

Kenma sighed as he looked at the two of you with his cat like eyes, he didn't like the idea of the two of you hiding just because you both thought that he wouldn't understand but Kenma decided that he'd rather keep it to himself because he couldn't recall a moment where he saw your eyes sparkle the way they do as you look at Kuro and as a big brother, he wouldn't want to put an end to you and his best friend's happiness "Whatever. I'm not against any of this but have some decency to at least cover up your hickeys.." he looked at you intensely, the kind that he gives you when he's about to scold you, "You're still my baby sister…" he told you before looking at Kuro with a glare, "And you're still my best friend."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

virginity

words: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, virgin!reader and virgin!rafe, kind of bullying at the beginning, very cute and fluffy rafe, reader is implied to be a kook, first date, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, protected (for once! yay) sex

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @dreamingwithrafe @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“oh my god, bridgette, you'll never guess who asked me out!” you squeal, flopping onto her bed.

“ooh, umm… kelce?” she guesses, but you just shake your head no, the smile on your face growing.

“rafe!” 

bridgette sits up instantly. “rafe as in rafe cameron?” you can tell by the look on her face that she's skeptical.

“the one and only.” you nod.

“but um… he doesn't date?” she says, genuine confusion in her voice.

“i thought you said he was basically a rich frat boy?” you sit up, now thinking over the interaction, but there's no way to confuse “will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” as anything other than asking on a date.

“well, yeah, he parties and stuff but he doesn't… date. he's never had a girlfriend.”

“well, ive never really had a boyfriend.” you shrug. “and don't say jonathan because he does not count.”

“yeah, but you have an excuse, y/n. your parents moved you all over the country, you didn't have time to date until your parents settled here a few months ago.” bridgette counters, and she does have a point. you've never been in one place long enough to form a true relationship. “i think rafe just doesn't date because he doesn't like any girls enough.”

you frown, thinking over her words. “well i guess that means he likes me enough to ask.” you say quietly.

bridgette shrugs. “good for you. he better take you somewhere expensive, boy has MONEY!” she says, causing you both to erupt into laughter. “oh…” bridgette suddenly quiets. “i wouldn't tell evelyn. she has the biggest crush on him, she'd get so jealous if she knew you asked him out.”

-- the next day --

“hey dad…” you say in a sweet voice, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

“oh god, y/n, what do you want?”

“can i borrow your credit card?” you ask with a whine.

“y/n, you are an adult! you can’t keep borrowing my credit card! what do you need anyways?” “a new outfit… for a date tonight.” you whisper the last part, but your dads eyes still bulge open.

“a what?” “come on dad, all my outfits are so revealing, don’t you want me to buy something more covered up? or should i wear that pink skirt mom got me-” “no!” your dad cuts you out, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, slapping the credit card into your hand. “something that doesn’t show too much skin, y/n.” he warns, and you nod and run out to your car before he can lecture you or ask you any more questions about the date.

--

you look through the rack of dresses, trying to find one that you like and would feel comfortable in tonight with rafe. you don't want to give him the wrong idea by showing up wearing a dress that's more suited for a club or party.

you have some hangers already in your hand of dresses to try on when you hear a shout of your name. you look up to see evelyn and her two best friends following her. 

when you moved to the outer banks, you quickly assimilated into the social scene and learned that evelyn was the queen bitch, super wealthy, but not at all likable, with an insane amount of possessiveness over rafe, despite him never even showing interest in her. evelyns first words to you were to stay away from him, but you won't let her intimidate you away from this date.

“what are you shopping for?” evelyn asks, her lips smeared in a bright red shade of lipstick that contrasts her light hair.

“a date tonight.” you reply, keeping your eyes mostly on the clothes, trying to convey that you're not interested in whatever show of dominance she's attempting.

“i heard about that. how did you scam rafe into taking you somewhere?” she asks, her friends snickering behind her.

“he asked me, actually.” you hum, keeping your body language disinterested, despite feeling your heart start to beat faster. “I guess he likes me.”

“that's real funny, y/n.” evelyn says, placing her hand on the rack to stop you from looking. “because rafe is mine.”

“should i call him right now?” you look her in the eye, your temper reading on your face. “should I have him tell you what you already know? that he's not interested?”

“you are such a bitch!” evelyn yells, and the storekeeper finally becomes aware of the situation, heading out from behind the counter and towards you. “i will ruin you for stealing him.” evelyn states before turning and stomping out of the store, her entourage falling in step behind her.

“miss, are you okay?” the shopkeeper asks.

you hum and nod, knowing that whatever they plan on doing won't work, evelyn may have popularity because of her money, but everyone knows not to trust a word out of her mouth. “can i get a dressing room to try these on actually?” you ask, picking up a dress that you think would be perfect for tonight.

--

the doorbell rings and you give your father a glare, already having warned him to stay in the living room and let you answer the door. the last thing you need is your father scaring rafe before your date has even begun.

you open the door, letting out a breath of relief when rafe is also dressed up. you realized while buying the dress that you didn't actually know where you were going for dinner, you just assumed it would be on the fancier side.

“wow.” rafe let's out a gasp, “you look beautiful.”

you blush, smoothing out the front of your dress, giving you an excuse to break eye contact and look down at yourself. “you look really handsome too.”

“let me help you down the stairs.” rafe extends his hand, and you subtly wipe your palm against your dress before placing it in his, accepting his help out the front door as these are new heels (you couldn't resist when your dad gave you his card).

rafe keeps your hands locked together as he leads you towards his truck, of course opening the door for you and helping you in.

you smile at rafe as he gets into the driver's seat. “im excited.” you tell him honestly.

“me too.” rafe grins, keeping his eyes on the road as he takes off but reaching over your tangle your fingers together again. “im nervous too though.”

“rafe cameron did not just admit he is nervous.” you gasp, making rafes smile grow as he shakes his head.

“i really like you.” he explains further, making you smile and lift his hand to your face, pressing your lips to it in a kiss. 

--

“how's your food?” rafe asks, taking a bite of his own. you ordered salad, too nervous to eat anything else in front of rafe. since he admitted how he felt about the date, it felt all the more real.

“it’s really good!” you say. “thanks for taking me.”

rafe smiles at you, his eyes containing a warmth you haven’t seen before. “so, where did you live before moving to the outer banks?”

you had told rafe before that you moved around a lot, but never got into the specifics, so you spend most of the dinner telling him all the states that you’ve lived in and responding to his questions while asking some of your own.

rafe accepts the check and pays for you without question, brushing off your thanks before leading you out of the restaurant, his hand firmly placed on your back.

“do i need to get you home by any time?” rafe asks when you get back in the car.

“no.” you shake your head. “i don’t want to go home yet either.”

rafe smiles at you, reaching over to place his hand on your thigh as he drives towards his house. you hum softly to the music, glad for the short drive before you’re walking into tanneyhill. rafe informs you that everyone else is gone, so it’s just you two.

“should we watch a movie?” rafe asks, gesturing towards the couch in the living room.

“sure! you pick though.” you say, not wanting to have to make the choice. rafe sits down on the couch and picks up the remote, navigating to some comedy you haven’t seen before. you sit down next to him, close enough for your thighs to be touching.

rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, letting you get comfortable against his side.

the movie is decently funny, but you’re far more focus on being tucked up against rafe. at a funny scene, rafe lets his laughter loose, and you can’t help but turn and look to him, watching his face light up.

rafe notices you watching him and his laughter softens into a smile. “can i kiss you?” he asks.

you nod, turning to face him as rafe places a hand on your cheek, bringing your mouths together in a kiss that quickly turns more passionate as you deepen it. you shift again so that you straddle rafes lap, placing your hands on his shoulders as you continue to kiss, your dress pooling on his lap.

“y/n-” rafe gasps when he pulls away, realizing both of you went a little overboard when your lips first touched.

“i have to tell you something rafe.” you say, realizing the compromising position you’re in and not wanting to give him the wrong idea.

“what is it baby?” rafe questions, his hands falling to rest on your hips.

“i’m… i’m a virgin.” you admit.

rafe lets out a sigh, like he’s relieved, which causes your brows to scrunch together in confusion. “i never thought i’d say this to you but i am too.”

“what?” you question. “i thought you were known for partying and flirting and stuff!” “yeah, i used to flirt a lot but i was never serious enough with anyone to sleep with them… not until you.” “oh my god.” you coo, leaning forward to press your lips together again. rafe wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your chests closer together.

“i would lose it with you, baby. if you want.” rafe says.

“i-yes. i want that.” you nod.

“tonight? now? only if you’re sure.” rafe says. “i know we’ve only gone on one date, but it feels… right.”

“i agree.” you nod. “i’m not saying we are going to be together forever based off one date but i want to lose it with you. together.” 

“let me take you upstairs then.” rafe stands effortlessly, with you clinging to his front as his arms hold you steady. you press soft kisses to his neck as he carries you, feeling equal parts nervous and excited for what is about to happen.

rafe sets you down on the end of his bed before stepping back, admiring you in his bedroom, especially knowing what you are about to do together.

“can i take your dress off?” rafe asks, and you nod, letting him come up and grab the bottom of your dress. you lift your hips so he can pull it up and over your head, and you let out a silent thanks to god that you wore matching underwear.

“you’re so gorgeous.” rafe says, looking down at you with glossed over eyes. you can tell from the tightness of his pants that he’s not unaffected by seeing you like this.

“sit down, let me take your shirt off.” you tell rafe, grabbing his hand so he sits next to you on the bed. you tug his shirt off, admiring his muscles as you run your hands over them. rafes hands stay on his knees, waiting for permission to touch you now that you’re scantily dressed.

“do you… do you want to take your pants off?” you ask, glancing down at his crotch. “it seems painful.” you giggle.

“yeah, the zipper hurts.” rafe admits, unzipping his pants and pulling them down his legs so he’s in just his underwear, his cock straining against the fabric, a small patch of wetness already growing.

“do you wanna lay down? i want to kiss you some more.” rafe asks.

you nod, moving up the bed until you can rest your head against the pillows. rafe crawls over your body, his eyes mesmerizing every inch of bare skin until he can press his lips against yours, the kiss is passionate but slow and deliberate, building up gradually until you’re moaning against rafes lips.

you reach behind your back, unclipping your bra before taking it off, flinging it somewhere in the room to be picked up later. rafe gives you a final kiss before looking down at your bare chest.

“oh fuck.” he groans, reaching with one hand to grip the underside of your breast, holding it in his palm as he slides down, his mouth falling open onto your nipple. you let out a moan as rafe explores your chest and what makes you moan the loudest.

he plays with your nipple with his tongue, then teases around it before ultimately sucking it into his mouth before switching and repeating on the other side.

“is that good?” rafe asks, and you give an enthusiastic nod. “really good.” “should i…” rafe looks down at your underwear, and you give another nod.

“you’re going to have to um… finger me. to open me up for you, ya know?” you cringe at your words, but you know it’s true and don’t want your first time to hurt.

“yeah, yeah of course.” rafe tugs at your underwear, his eyes staying between your thighs as he tosses the fabric to the floor. you take a deep breath before spreading your legs, putting your cunt on display for him.

“so sexy.” rafe praises you, moving so he’s lying between your thighs. he spreads your folds open with two fingers before using his other hand to rub his pointer finger over your pussy.

he traces around your clit before bumping it, making you flinch at the sudden pleasure.

“was that good?” rafe asks, and you just let out a moan in response when he doesn’t wait, rubbing over your clit again.

rafe smiles, moving his finger lower to your entrance before circling around that as well. he presses against your tight ring of muscle, thankful that you’re already quite wet as you relax and give way, letting his finger slip inside.

he begins to thrust it in and out slowly, building up speed as it becomes easier for him to move.

“try to add a second.” you tell him after a minute.

rafe nods, managing to work a second finger inside of you, but he can tell by the way your forehead scrunches that it’s not as comfortable as one, so he leans forward and presses his tongue against your clit.

“oh fuck!” you scream out as he flicks the tip of his tongue over and over, allowing you to focus on that instead of his fingers thrusting in and out of you.

rafe even makes a point to separate his fingers some, widening them to open you up even more. you don’t even flinch this time as his tongue stays playing with your clit.

“i’m ready.” you pant. “i’m ready, i need you rafe.”

rafe nods, moving to kneel between your legs, not sure what the best position to put you in is, but you seem to have it already thought out as you take a pillow and put it under your hips to raise them so he can stay kneeling on the bed.

rafe works his underwear off, and your eyes widen when his cock is revealed, regretting telling him you were ready after just two fingers. he grabs the condom he must have tossed onto the bed earlier and rips it open, sliding the latex down his length.

“if you need more time…” rafe trails off.

“just go slow.” you say, knowing he will stop at any point if you really need him to.

rafe moves closer, holding himself in his hand as he lines up with your entrance. his head pushes in easily, but the further forward his hips move, the more you struggle, but rafe sees it and slows down until he’s finally fully seated inside of you.

something sparks in that moment, realizing that you have both lost your virginity and it has rafe bending down over your body to press your lips together. you appreciate the kiss as it gives you even longer to adjust before rafe starts rocking into you slowly.

“that feels good.” you reassure rafe, all feelings of pain now gone.

“you feel good.” rafe says, unsure how he’s able to keep so much control over himself to not go feral in this moment, but he likes you too much, cares too much to move any faster and potentially cause you pain.

he keeps up the slow movements, moving from just rocking to actually thrusting as he starts to pull further out. 

“faster.” you whimper, eyes sliding closed as you focus on his length inside of you.

rafe doesn’t question you, needing to move more himself as he begins to speed up his thrusts, pushing his hips forward harder as well.

“i-i’m sorry i don’t know much longer i’m going to last.” rafe admits.

“it’s okay just touch my clit again.” you say. you would do it yourself but your body feels weightless right now, and you’re not sure if you can raise your arms up.

rafe nods, gripping your hip with one hand but letting the other roam to your cunt, rubbing his thumb over your clit as he tries to hold back his orgasm as long as possible while still pushing his cock into your heat repeatedly.

you let out your moans with freedom, knowing that there is no one else in the house to hear you. rafe begins to grunt and you feel him swelling inside of you and you know that he’s close.

rafes body falls forward, his thumb still moving on your clit but his cock stilling as he cums, filling up the condom as he pants heavily.

“y/n!” rafe finishes with a call of your name. you are so close to your orgasm, and you surmise rafe must know as he stays inside of you, rubbing faster until you cum, your body arching off the mattress, even underneath rafes weight as your high hits you with a shout.

you manage to reach to push rafes hand away, needing the overwhelming pleasure on your clit gone as your orgasm works through your body.

rafe curses when your cunt pulsates around him, but waits until you’re done to pull out. he flops to the side, pulling the condom off and tossing it into the trashcan next to his nightstand.

“how does it feel to no longer be a virgin?” you ask.

“felt good to finally use that condom i’ve been keeping in my wallet since i turned 16.” rafe laughs, reaching his arm out to pull you closer to him. “but seriously, i’m glad i lost it with you.” “i’m glad too.” you smile, pressing a quick peck to his lip. “and maybe i should have asked you this before we had sex but… will you be my girlfriend?”

“oh my god, yes!” you squeal.

[vivwritesfics]

loving no need to ask here’s an idea!! after carlos executes his plan of getting rid of oscar i can imagine reader being super depressed, not eating, sobbing every chance she has alone, and attempting to avoid stuff with carlos. which obviously causes problems. 🩷🩷🩷

What Happened To Oscar?

I had to save this for after Chapter Nine (for obvious reasons). Hopefully this clears up why Oscar couldn't just whisk her away to safety.

Series Masterlist

Mark Webber was at the wedding. Thank fucking God, Oscar realised as he walked over, talking to his real boss. Mark was the one who had indoctrinated him into this life of crime, he was just on loan to the Norris family.

As much as Oscar wanted to detail every little think to Mark, he couldn't. Not here. It wasn't safe.

That much became apparent when Carlos approached him, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. "Oscar," he said, staring down at him. (Oscar wasn't much shorter than Carlos, the Spanish man just had a much more imposing stature).

Oscar swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared at the man. Y/N's husband. He still had that bruise on his chest from where Carlos had stood on him.

"I'd just like to thank you," Carlos began, taking him entirely by surprise, "for helping my wife become so comfortable in my home. If you are to stay here with her, there are many things we need to discuss. Come and join me in my study."

Oscar spared one last look at Mark as she was led through the house, Carlos' hands on his back. Mark gave him an encouraging smile, almost like he was telling him not to be scared.

But he had every reason to be scared.

As soon as they were in Carlos' office, two men came to stand in front of the door, locking it.

Carlos sat at his desk, gesturing to the spare chair in front of it for Oscar to sit in. As did it, Carlos picked up something that looked to be a little too deadly to be a letter opener.

"You've been very friendly with my wife," he said, playing with the letter opener. Oscar gripped the arm of the chair. "I don't appreciate that. I don't appreciate other men touching what is mine."

Oscar went for the gun in his waistband and Carlos watched him. He did nothing. His men did nothing. They watched with malicious grins as Oscar pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

"Did you really think I'd let you into my house with a working weapon?"

Oscar gulped. He was well and truly fucked.

Standing up, Carlos leaned over him. "Here's what's going to happen. I have to get back out there to my wedding reception, to my sweet, little wife. My boys are going to take care of you in here and tonight, while I'm fucking her, we're going to ship you back to Lando. Just be glad it's not in a body bag."

"You f-" Oscar stood up suddenly, swinging his fist. But Carlos caught him easily, grabbing his gun from his waistband and holding it against Oscars neck. "Trust me, boy," he spat. "This one works."

Oscar backed down and Carlos let go of him, leaving him at the mercy of his men as he walked out of the office and back to the wedding.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie

[ryrywrites]

Drunken Schoolboy - Anthony Bridgerton

divider creds: @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics

Pair: Viscount Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Description: Attending a ball hosted by Lady Danbury, the newly-engaged Lady Y/N Roman and Viscount Anthony Bridgerton become separated by the ton. When the watchful eye of high society becomes too much for Y/N, she retreats into the library where she's met with her very drunk fiancé.

Warnings: Anthony coming onto the reader drunk, nothing but fluff here 🫶🏻

WC: 2.6k

A/N: Work has been tearing me up and I needed some Bridgerton fluff. This one is little short but I'm working on some longer stuff for you guys. This was just a cute lil idea 🥰 Enjoy!

Update: As I was writing this, Tumblr said fuck you to my hard work and deleted literally everything so...I want to die. Okay, enjoy 😃

anthony bridgerton masterlist × main masterlist

Y/N crept down the silent hallway and made her way into the dusty room, scanning her surroundings to make sure no one had spotted her. The dull hum of chattering society and soft music could still be heard from the ballroom as she walked through to shelves of books. Y/N was practically raised among these books and found that her favorite hiding place in Danbury House was this library. Although she appreciated Lady Danbury's hospitality and the amount of work she put into these seasonal balls, Y/N never found them enjoyable. She was always to leave a ball early if she could get away with it, or simply avoid the event all together. But this was her and the Viscount's first appearance out in society as an engaged couple so attendance was necessary, at least, according to her mother. As soon as they arrived, the couple was torn apart by the droves of squawking ladies and a trio of rakish bachelors, who had dragged her dear fiancé away to God knows where. Y/N was almost immediately bombarded with questions and suspicions from the nosy mamas and jealous debutantes who all were wondering why Viscount Bridgerton would choose her over any of them. They poked and prodded, trying to determine what made her so special that she had won the Mr. Bridgerton's favor.

Truly, she herself still had trouble grasping the engagement. I suppose the only true answer to their intrusive questions was that the pair had fallen in love. Over the course of the season, they had a long feud and competitiveness that kept them constantly on their toes around the other. They could not deny their longing for the other and one night, Anthony confessed his true intentions and begged her to release him from this torment and marry him. Of course, she accepted and confessed her own feelings to the man. What the two had found in each other, they had never been able to find in anyone else. A shared understanding of loss, a similar sense of wit and humor, and a love so vast, it truly did conquer all. But tonight, the prying eyes of society had brought her to exhaustion. Her social battery was drained by the time those mothers had come to the conclusion that nothing scandalous had taken place to force the pair into marriage. Once they had nothing to gossip about, Y/N and Anthony became yesterday's news and she was pushed back to the wall, where she stood and watched the many lovely couples dancing and conversing, wondering where her beloved had been swept away to.

She had finally had her fill of tea cakes and awkward isolation. Now, here she stands, scanning the shelves for any book that may occupy her time. Just as Y/N had pulled a book from the shelf, she heard a loud bang against the wall in the library. She was immediately startled and jumped in place, dropping the book with a thump. She turned around to see what had made such a fuss and there stood her promised, a tall sturdy man with tousled brown locks and a royal blue suit coat. Anthony was leaning up against the wall, disturbed, until he spotted his fianceé, holding her chest for dear life. His face quickly lifted in drunken glee and he trudged over to her, she relaxed once she realized who he was. "My dear, what-" Anthony cut her off by wrapping his arms around her and lifting her off the ground, spinning her in a large circle. "My darling, I have found you at last!" He spoke very openly and outlandishly, not caring about his volume. The startled woman let out a yelp of surprise as he twirled her around. She placed her hands on his shoulders, attempting to ground herself. "Anthony, you must be quiet!" Y/N whispered and hoped nobody had heard his inebriated outburst of affection.

He smiled cheerfully and obediently hushed his tone, placing her on her feet once more. Y/N was taken back by the man's forward and adoring gaze upon her. Anthony was many things. He was stubborn, competitive, and very subtle with his love in public. The most physical contact that had ever shared was a kiss and an intimate embrace, nothing further. Now, Y/N feared their discovery in such a secluded and dark place with his hands so carelessly roaming her torso. "Dearest, please, what has come over you?" She quickly halted his hands and gently removed them from her corseted waist. She examined him suspiciously and realized the man before her was absolutely sloshed. She placed a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh. "I have been searching far and wide for you! And now you are here! I am so happy to see you." He slurred excitedly, his heart was filled with overwhelming joy at the sight of his beautiful bride-to-be. Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes at his eagerness. She held his hands and guided him slowly to a chair. "Yes, and I am happy you found me." As she slowly seated him in his chair and he laid out lazily and smiled up at her, weary and obviously tired. She knelt before him, lowered herself down to meet his eyeline.

"Anthony, how many drinks have you had this evening?" His head bobbed along with every word she spoke, he watched her lips intently with droopy eyes. His face turned slightly pensive as he thought and then held up five fingers. Y/N eyes widened in disbelief. Those damn hooligans, Anthony's condition was surely their doing. I felt irritation rise within me as Anthony's eyes drooped closed. I lifted myself up and sighed exasperatedly, walking around him and stroking his cheek. "I believe it is time we take our leave, my love." He hummed in reply, loving the feeling of her fingers rubbing his cheekbone. "Please, stay here. I shall return in just a moment." She whispered softly, kissing the top of his head and making her way out of the library, in search of either Colin or Benedict. They had most likely seen their brother in this state before, they would were the only ones who could help her discreetly take Anthony home. Y/N carefully reentered the ballroom, her eyes darting the room for any signs of a Bridgerton. She came face to face with Benedict Bridgerton, just the man she was looking for. "Y/N! How are you this even-" She quickly ignored the pleasantries and carefully pulled him by the arm to the library.

Benedict was very confused, almost concerned by her hurried strides, until they reached the library and he spotted his smashed brother, his legs spread in a splayed position and his head bobbling along to the tune playing in the ballroom. Benedict let out a boisterous chuckle at his incapacitated brother. "Good God. What on Earth happened to him?" He wondered. Y/N shook her head in similar confusion. "I hate to be a bother but I can't exactly...hold him up on my own." He nodded understandingly and moved across the room to where his older brother laid. "Come on, you knob. Let's get you up." Anthony didn't appreciate his brother's insult but lifted himself up with Ben's extended arm. He stumbled for a moment but steadied himself. "I'll alert the valet that we shall be leaving." She turned on her heels and Ben quickly followed after, with Anthony's arm over his shoulder. Anthony was beginning to sober up and groan slightly under his breath. Y/N maneuvered the two men through the crowd of socialites and they finally made their exit. She swiftly notified the valet. Their carriage was pulled around with a couple of whines from the horse and Anthony.

I opened the door for Ben to shove his brother gently into the carriage, he tumbled within the small coach and, at last, found his seat. "Thank you, Ben." Y/N whispered softly, not wanting to draw attention to the scene. He bowed before her with a sly smirk. "He will never live this down." He stated very well pleased, turning around to head back into the ball. As Y/N settled into the carriage, finally able to sit comfortably in her dress, she noticed Anthony beginning to rub his head. "My darling?" She stated curiously. He was suddenly feeling very sober and extremely sick. "Where are we going?" He inquired, his voice strained from the very clear ache in his head. "Home, my love." She placed a warm hand on his knee from across the carriage. He let out a heavy sigh, getting him inside was going to be a difficult feat. As the carriage slowly came to a stop, a footman opened the ornate door and helped the two out of the carriage. Y/N had always appreciated the staff's understanding and compassion towards the Bridgerton family. Anthony could not stand on his own for very long so Y/N placed her arm around the man's waist and threw his arm over her shoulder. She was watching very intently while Ben was carrying Anthony, knowing she would likely have to follow his actions.

He was a hefty man, heavy and large in frame. Every step up the front stairs felt like a mile, even with the footman's help. She was determined to get him inside, even if her face was turning a flushed red from the exercise. Once they reached the door, after what felt like centuries, the footman opened the door for the two of them and took his leave once Y/N dismissed and thanked him for his help. He would certainly be receiving a hefty tip from her in the morning. Anthony was beginning the sober up and hold his weight a bit as the two scuffled to Anthony's bedroom. She had not yet seen his room, it was seen as impropriety to be alone with him in his quarters but she was sure no one would mind, in this particular situation. He laid out on his back, peacefully for a moment and so quietly, she could've sworn he had fallen asleep immediately. Until his body shot up very suddenly, making her jump in surprise. "My word!" This was the third time he had flustered her tonight and she was beginning to become agitated in a very humorous way. "I believe I'm going to be sick." He said very woozily, looking as though he was going to vomit on the floor. Y/N's eyes widened in fear and quickly lifted her dress and made a dash to the kitchen.

She found a bucket and, tripping over herself, ran back to the bedroom, the sound of her heels clicking rapidly against the linoleum floor. She thrusted the bucket into the man's hands and stood back, preparing for impact. He leaned over the bucket for a moment, becoming visibly pale and sweaty. He was still, very still while her body was fully tensed. He shook his head and laid moved the bucket to the floor, placing his elbows on his knees and shaking his head droopily. "My God. What happened? And why?" He moaned annoyed at the feeling that trembled in his stomach and the bile that was beginning to travel to his throat. She cautiously sat beside him on his plush bed and rubbed his back, trying her best to ease his discomfort. "Remind me not to let you leave my side at the next ball." Y/N smiled relieved that he was coherent once again. "No more balls." Anthony groaned. He laid back, whining bitterly. Y/N could not help but chuckle at the man that laid beside her, what a dunce. She absolutely adored him and she could not help but wonder what would make him drink so recklessly. He peaked an eye at the woman, hearing her titter and arching a brow at her. "You laugh at my suffering?" He asked, feigning offense and placing to his heart in shock.

"You are a dramatic jolly man." She continued to smile down at him, attempting to wipe the beads of sweat growing at his brow. He looked up at her with admiration in his eyes. This woman was truly perfect. How could he have been so callous for so long? Better yet, why had she held out through his cruel behavior? Truthfully, Y/N could not find a rational reason why she chose to stick by his side. She considered the idea that she was a fool and lost all rational thought the moment she met Anthony. That is how she justified her stupidity, her inability to avoid the eldest Bridgerton son. "And you..." He leaned up on his elbows, practically man-spreading before her in his navy blue trousers, white-collared button-up dress shirt, and matching navy vest with gold detailing the chest. He wrapped his arms, slowly, around her waist and wiggled around to crawl closer to Y/N until his head nestled comfortably into her skirted lap. "Are a goddess." He mumbled, his words buried deep in her dress. He hugged her waist possessively, inhaling her scent of french lilacs and gooseberries. She looked down at the pretty man and savored this touch, placing a delicate finger to his cheekbone and tracing it to his slightly disheveled hair.

The light crow's feet at the corners of his eyes stretched as he smiled softly, his eyes fluttered close. As she cradled his head in her lap, she wished they weren't separated by her heavy petticoats. She craved closeness and her discomfort in such tight yet puffy clothes was evident with every shift of her hips. Anthony knew tonight had been less than ideal for his future bride, having to coddle and care for him. Anthony allowed his eyes to open wearily and he offered her a half smile which she returned wholeheartedly. Although this was not how she anticipated ending the evening, she was grateful to be away from the nosy eyes and ears of the ton. She watched the way his face contorted to one of guilt and burden. "I am truly sorry, my darling. I know you must think me a scoundrel for my behavior and I do not disagree." His mind was off it's bend and he would not admit his fault so candidly if he was not still slightly boozed. Y/N tilted her head sympathetically. He was not wrong but she did not blame him, not entirely. She did not spoke, allowing him to continue. "What can I do to make this evening up to you?" He requested. She waited a beat, for dramatic effect. There was nothing she wanted more than...

"I know one way you may make amends." She placed a finger to his jaw and smiled longingly. "Marry me, and all shall be forgiven." His eyes filled with emotion, a tender combination of love, gratefulness, and drink. He pushed himself up from her lap, the emptiness making her as uncomfortable as her dress, and leaned forward, placing a firm kiss to her forehead. "That, I shall," He whispered, placing another careful chaste kiss to her cheek. "And more." She gazed upon the man, fearing a tear would escape her tired eye from the emotions and true admiration she shared with Anthony. With such a hasty motion, Anthony did not realize how dizzy and nauseous he was until his stomach began to turn. He clenched his jaw, wired tightly shut, as well as closing his eyes once more to steady himself and tried to push the feeling away but failed with an exasperated sigh. "Dear God, I'm going to be sick." Y/N quickly lifted herself with a push of her palms to the soft quilted mattress and flew to the kitchen to retrieve a cold cloth to place on his head. It would be a long night but he was undoubtedly worth the trouble.

[star-stilinski]

part one here!

you adjust the strap of your prom dress as you frown in the mirror. your hair is a bit of a mess and your makeup is worse, and you’re hearing jake say those things all over again.

maybe stiles was acting out of pity.

you’re currently standing in the girls bathroom of a local 24/7 diner, something tucked away that stiles found when he pulled you along into his jeep. he had been chatty on the drive there, asking you stuff he already knew. stuff he knew you liked talking about. stuff that would take your mind off of the night. anything, really.

and after the best fries you’d ever had (and a milkshake to share, because he wanted to be corny), you had both gone into the separate bathrooms.

and you realized what a wreck you were.

from the making out with jake (which… was not very fun), to the crying in the hallway, you had pretty much ruined your prom night glamor. that’s okay, it’s just stiles.

then again. it’s stiles. you want him to look at you again the way he did in the hall. for a second, you had felt like every word he said was true, that you really were a pretty girl and guys did want you. that he wants you.

too bad mirrors exist.

you do your best to fix your hair and wipe away your mascara, giving up quickly once you realize you’ll have to end the night looking like this. stiles is leaning against the wall when you come out, and he straightens quickly when he sees you.

“hey, you’re not tired, are you?” he hums enthusiastically. you hesitate in the bathroom doorway, put off by his energy. 

“I mean, not really. why? where are we going?” you step forward and his arm slings over your shoulders to guide you. he’s got a crooked smile (which only means bad news, historical precedent suggests), and he’s jangling his car keys with his free hand as he leads you both out of the diner.

“you wanna go back to mine? my dad has this great whiskey-do you like whiskey? he’s got wine, too. and he’s out at work tonight, so we can have a drink and I can finally force you to watch the prequels-“

“oh my god, I am not watching a nerd movie after almost getting pressured into sex! that sounds like a redditor’s dream, stiles.” you groan, throwing your head back. you’ve seen star wars. it’s good. changed cinema, yadda yadda. but not the mood you’re in tonight.

he opens the passenger door to the jeep for you and leans against it, watching you clamber in with a sappy look in his eyes. you don’t catch it.

“you’d like the prequels. girls love anakin skywalker. plus, it’s a wicked love story! makes me cry every time.” he’s got his cheek pressed to the side of the door as he argues casually, watching as you buckle yourself in. you turn back to him with a frown, which only makes his smile wider.

“we’re watching 13 going on 30. now get in and turn on the ac, this dress is trapping my body heat.”

stiles tosses his head back in a sort of disappointment at the film choice as he shuts your door, making his way to the drivers seat quickly. “just so you know, we’re gonna watch the prequels at some point. even if I have to tie you to a chair with your eyes glued open.”

“drive the car, stilinski.”

☆

you’re given a t-shirt and some gym shorts from stiles and guided into the bathroom (which he hastily tidied up before letting you in), shown how to operate the shower, and left alone.

another dimly lit bathroom, another mirror. you look at it and sigh at yourself, right before being interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

“hey, uh, I totally forgot to ask if you needed help unzipping your dress. do you… can you get it, or should I?” stiles asks quietly through the door. you attempt to reach the zipper on your back to no avail and surrender to his request.

he opens the door slowly at your “yeah, come in,” and you watch him step in behind you through the mirror.

“thanks," you mumble as he unzips your dress carefully. he doesn't respond, but that's not really registering in your brain as his knuckles drag slowly across your bare skin.

"did you know you have a mole right here?" he hums, pressing his finger to your shoulder blade. you didn't, and it makes you hot in the face knowing that stiles noticed.

"uhm, no. is it weird looking?"

"it's..." he looks into the mirror, making eye contact with you.  "beautiful."

you stare at each other for a moment, cheeks growing pinker, before he clears his throat. "that should do it. th-the zipper, i mean."

he leaves after that, letting you stew in whatever he was implying. you shrug your dress off and take a short shower, managing to scrub the most of your ruined makeup off as you do. when you dry off and step into stiles' clothes, his scent envelops you like a hug. you tuck your face into the t-shirt and breathe in.

stiles is sitting on the couch when you step into the living room, getting 13 going on 30 set up. you're surprised at how little he's complained. when you sit next to him, he scoots closer and grabs a blanket off the end of the couch to drape over you both.

his hair is damp from his own shower in his dad's bathroom and he's wearing blue sweats and a Back To The Future t-shirt. it doesn't match and it's kinda dorky. very stiles.

"was your shower okay?" he hums, not looking away from the tv as he searches on netflix for the movie. you watch him instead, admiring the way the dim lighting makes his jaw more defined.

"yeah. i saw your 3-in-one. i didn't know people actually used those."

he narrows his eyes and does a double take at you. the first time he looks, it's a defensive glare. the second, his face has gone all soft and he's looking at your attire. "it's... it's for emergencies."

you laugh at his response, leaning into him. "then where's your actual shampoo and conditioner?"

he's a blushing mess, eyes caught on his t-shirt you're wearing. he's barely responsive. "it... i have to hide it, every time scott comes over he uses so much and it's expensive!"

you shake your head and roll your eyes at stiles, shifting on the couch. he continues to stare at you.

"are you even real?" he mumbles, the tv long forgotten as he traces the lines of your features with his gaze. you blink up at him, laughing nervously.

"i mean, i think so. why? is there a clone of me walking around?"

somehow, this makes his face even sappier. his eyebrows are upturned and his lips part and he leans in. your heart flutters. "that's probably the nerdiest thing you've ever said."

you swallow, nervous and excited by his proximity. maybe he'll kiss you again.

maybe more.

instead, stiles tucks some of your hair behind your ear, tracing your jawline with his fingertips. he finishes at your chin and thumbs at your bottom lip, parting your lips. or do you do that last part? you can't tell if he's controlling your body or if you are. and either way, you can't find it in yourself to care.

you lean in this time, and stiles meets you halfway, kissing you gently on his couch. it's like something from one of your many extensive daydreams. the kiss is longer this time, and when he cups your cheek, he pulls you in and guides your mouth open, pressing his tongue into you.

it's nothing like jake. jake kissed like he wanted to feel good, like you were a means to an end. he kissed like he was just kissing someone.

stiles kisses like you're made of starlight. it's slow and sensual, his hands are soft when he guides you to lay back against the couch. he holds you like you're the only girl in the world he wants to do this with, like he's kissing you and not just kissing someone.

so when he pulls back, it's more of a disappointment than anything.

"what are you doing?" you whisper when you realize it was more than just catching his breath. he's looking at you differently than before, like he's analyzing.

"we should stop." he deadpans, clenching his jaw.

you deflate like a balloon. oh. you had kinda maybe sorta got your hopes up, thinking that stiles wanted you in every way. maybe he changed his mind about you. maybe he-

"don't get me wrong, there's nothing more in the world i want to do than make you feel as beautiful as you really are." stiles' tone shifts to one filled with feeling as he tries to explain himself, still leaning over you. "but... not here. and not now."

he sits up and pulls you up after him, snaking his arms around your waist to hold you close. "i mean, you almost just got pressured into something really bad. that's gotta be leaving a weird mark on your psyche. and i couldn't live with myself if i knew that anything we did together would be tainted with memories of that... useless waste of space."

stiles rubs your sides soothingly and pulls you back just enough to look at you. you know you must be frowning or pouting or something pathetic, but he just smiles sadly at you. "plus, i don't want you to be tired. or trying to block out the night. and i don't want to do anything at all on this couch, honestly. there's probably a decade old bag of cheeto's in here. not the most romantic spot."

you laugh breathily and look down, toying with the hem of his shirt. you see his adams apple bob in your peripherals. "i just... i think it would be better for you to just chill tonight, okay? maybe in like a week or two, or after i've taken you on a few proper dates. is that okay with you?"

you screw your features up in thought. honestly, you'd never thought stiles would turn down sex. he just didn't seem the type. and kissing him made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

but you did agree that it was probably best to just pump the breaks. you wanted your first everything with stiles to be farther away from the trainwreck prom turned out to be, and cuddling up with a movie and a drink sounded good enough to get your mind off of things without making any mistakes. so you let stiles be right, just this once, and nod.

"okay, yeah, that sounds good." you hum, looking back up at him. he nods along with you, eyebrows rising slowly like he's surprised you took it so well.

"okay. perfect. now, let's watch this stupid movie." his tone holds no bite and he smiles teasingly, leaving room to let you lighten the mood. you take the chance, rolling your eyes at him and laughing softly, shoving his arm. he laughs along with you and pulls you against him on the couch. once you're both comfortable and cuddled, he grabs the remote and presses play.

you fall asleep too soon to see all the best parts, but stiles keeps it on as he strokes your head, turning the volume down enough to keep from disturbing you as you breathe softly against him.

[starieq]

“Lovin her seems tiring..” part 1

Taggies/ warnings; Pro!HeroKats, cheating, fingering, creampie, blowjob, ridding, cumming, squirting, swearing, mention of sex toys, dirty talk, titty fuck, drinking, drunk messaging, dry humping.

a/n: i had a little to much fun with the Taggies/warnings, lmao!: hello! Tysm for all the damn love! I honestly feel really happy I decided to make an account cuz I’d just go on tumblr and read bkg fics. Some of my favorites have liked Stuffie animals and some followed me, which oml🥹 but i’am really just on here to make people’s day and make some new friends:D enjoy my first 18+ fic and tell me what anime characters or characters I should write abt! Love ya! 🤭🫶🏼

part 2!

You’ve been working with Katsuki Bakugo, aka, the more professional word, “Dynamight” for a few months now. As his pretty little assistant, you have to deal with his bull shitting, make meetings for him, make meeting PLANS with other pro heros, schedule trips for him and his little bitch of a girlfriend, Kira. God you fucking hate her. You don’t really wanna admit that you have a big crush on Dynamight, but only your diary knows that information. But, you get why he chose her. She has the perfect long black silk hair that hangs out with her ass, glossy lips, pretty dark green eyes, slim hourglass figure, and perfect pale skin. But, you also don’t know why the fuck he chose her, because all she does on her free time is spend Bakugos money on stuff she wants. You’re also pretty positive she spent some of his money on a fucking boob job. 

You come home to your cute apartment to your cat Loki, stretching on your leg begging to be carried and snuggle up with his favorite human in the world. If you’re feeling in the mood, you’d pick him up and put him on the little bed by the window where he spends most of his time sleeping, when  you two get up, sleeping when you’re getting ready for work, and sleeping when you’re at work. 

Anyways, you’re in the mood to just sit in your bed, legs spread wide, with your box of toys next to you. head propped up on some pillows while your vibration toy is on your puffy sensitive clit thinking of Bakugo pushing his redish pink angry head through your sensitive folds while you’re moaning his name. 

“F-fuck..! C-cant.. f-fucking take i-it! Bak- mh~ Bakugo!” You moan. The white bed sheets turning a light shade of grey. 

You take a look down in between your legs to see what just happened. You’ve never squirted before? Usually your clit would just throb. You swipe off hair from your forehead when you hear your phone ringing. 

You scramble out of the bed to get to your phone which was across the room. 

:caller ID; Dynamight🧡💥:

“Shit!” You whisper yell as you tried to swipe answer.

“Hello? y/n speaking,” you say trying to sound professional and calm since you just fucking squirted.

“Fuckin know who you are.” Bakugo grumbles.

“Sorr-“ Bakugo cuts you off.

“Need ya to schedule a hotel for me and you. Got a fuckin mission in Tokyo and ya need to come with.” He says with an annoyed voice.

“I-“ you get cut off again, but with a girls voice.

“Katsuki! I need more laced bras! Ugh, you’re so cheap! Gimme your card now! And who the fuck are you on call with? Trynna cheat on me while I’m in the same fucking room as you right now?!??” 

You’re guessing that’s Kira. God she’s annoying. She’s obviously a fucking gold digger out for his fame and money. You’d be so much better to him unlike his bratty girlfriend.

“I’m on the fuckin phone with my damn assistant brat! I don’t give two fucks if ya need laced ass bras! Leave me the fuck alone woman!” Bakugo yells. 

“Make the fuckin reservations tonight.” The last sentence he said before hanging up.