#like obviously i can be like fuck off and not smoke it but instead i was like oh cool

[wild-at-mind]

I wonder if there's a correlation between lack of self image/comfortableness in being yourself, and being someone who had to watch a lot of how people were behaving socially and imitate it in order to slightly cope with school etc growing up?

[ashlynlovestlou]

I haven’t seen or read any sleeping with Ellie or Abby headcons and you’re such a lovely writer!!! I wanted to ask if you can write something like that maybe?

i'm gonna give you both because i'm in a good mood today!!! also thank you for the compliment i love you

masterlist nsfw!!

having sex with abby!!!

ꕤ₊˚ i've said this in sooo many of my fanfics, but abby is the most gentle person ever. in contrast to her large build and huge muscles (and ability to manhandle you however she pleases) she's such a softie. she's such a soft!dom and nobody can change my mind on this. she's never rough with you unless you blatantly ask her to be, but she much rather prefers slow and gentle sex and just taking her time with you.

ꕤ₊˚ abby is also big on toys!!! there, i said it. she buys/finds all these weird things to use on you in bed because it's such a turn on for her. yes, she does like seeing you get off on her fingers or her mouth or anything else, but she much rather prefers to use a strap or a dildo or a vibrator or something because she thinks you're just so damn pretty like that.

ꕤ₊˚ abby is definitely a whimperer. like, this girl is quiet because she much rather would like to hear you instead of herself. so she'll muffle her pretty moans s just so she can hear yours.

ꕤ₊˚ abby is big on kissing during sex (unlike ellie, but i'll get to that in a second) she likes kissing your lips, your cheek, your forehead, your hairline, your neck, behind your ear, your collarbone, your titties (and when you choose doggy, she'd kiss your bum cheeks every once in a while)

ꕤ₊˚ that's another thing. abby is an ass girl! even when you're not having sex, her hand will be in your back pocket. she'll pinch your booty as you walk by her sometimes, and she can't resist spanking you when she sees you bent over getting clothes out of the dryer or taking food out of the oven.

ꕤ₊˚ abby likes to put you in a ton of crazy positions. she likes doggy, when you're bouncing on her lap, literally anything but basic ol' missonary

having sex with ellie!!!

ꕤ₊˚ unlike abby, ellie prefers skin-on-skin. it's way more intimate to her, and she can feel you better when you're coming on her hand, her mouth, or even her thigh. that's why she loves taking baths or showers with you, so she can feel every curve and every inch of your body. she'll use her strap SOMETIMES but she prefers to be able to feel you on herself and not on some plastic dick. she loves tribbing with you, for this exact reason.

ꕤ₊˚ even though she likes the intimacy of being skin-on-skin with you, she likes to pound tf out of you. she'd never hurt you intentionally, obviously, but she loves hearing your moans grow loud. plus, ellie has a thing for making you squirt. she was slam into you until the sheets are soaked or you pass out. she's not aggressive, but she definitely likes it rough at least a little bit.

ꕤ₊˚ unlike abby, ellie likes to use names on you during sex. like "whore" or "slut", but she'll apologize once it's all over to tell you she doesn't really mean it. when you ask her to go more gentle, she'll call you things like "honey" "baby" or "beautiful." depending on the way that y'all are fucking, she'll use different names.

ꕤ₊˚ ellie doesn't like kissing you during sex!!! it's not that she's opposed to it, per se, but she would much rather take eye contact with you over kissing you. she likes the idea of watching your face as she fucks you so good, knowing that nobody compares to her. she'll cradle your head, her elbows propped up on the bed on both sides of your ears. your legs are wrapped around her hips as her pelvis snaps into yours, and she's just holding your face, pressing and occasional kiss to your hairline. ugh, i need her so bad.

ꕤ₊˚ tbh i dont think ellie has that many kinks, but she definitely likes to get high before a nice fuck. the two of you will spend half and hour or so just rolling joints and smoking, etc. until eventually she beckons you to sit on her lap and you'll grind on her thigh n everything. until eventually you both just give in and she'll fuck the life out of you.

ꕤ₊˚ ellie is the queen of aftercare. even though abby is also very good at it, ellie takes it very seriously. she'll clean you up and shower you with kisses. and then she'll put some of your clothes in the dryer to warm them up a little bit before dressing you herself. she's so sweet :').

[ellieshoochiemama]

Her. (E. W.)

Summary: Ellie joins you in your room during your brother's party.

Warnings (18+ MDNI): smut, swearing, fingering (r!receiving), cum eating (sort of), drinking, smoking, porn w/ some plot, bbf!ellie, loser!ellie. lmk if I missed any!!!

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: my first smut!!! So sorry if this sucks lmaooo

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It was a hot and humid summer night. That sizzling summer day was your brother's choice for a party. His friends were all gathered in the backyard, sipping on buzz-balls and inexpensive tequila shots. To be honest, you wanted to ditch this and curl up with your favorite rom-com instead, but you didn't. Your brother made the effort to persuade you to assist with setup, stay, and speak with the guys who were obviously watching you. It fucking sucked.

Especially since she was here. The only person you didn’t mind stealing glances from. Your brother's best friend for the past five years.

She had no idea how much she meant to you. Her teasing, the looks up and down, and the shivers you felt when she called your name.

Occasionally, she would catch you staring, her green eyes meeting yours, but she would ignore it. The girl she was talking to seemed to be blocking her, making it seem impossible for you to get close to her. Watching the girl drool over Ellie. Fuck.

Just brush it off. As you stood up from your seat to grab your next tequila shot, you rolled your eyes.

You made it to the table filled with alcohol. The moment you had a full shot glass in your hand, you hurried off. Jerking back your head as you sense the liquid burning in your throat. Fuck this boring shit.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Heading for your room, you walked somberly back into your home's solitude. You changed out of the dress you were wearing and put on an oversized crewneck and sleep shorts. As you tuck yourself into bed, there is a knock at the door.

You come to halt. In the hopes that they would go away if you said nothing.

"Come on, I know you are in there." Ellie continued, pounding on your door once more. "Alright, Fuck, I'm coming." When you open the door, Ellie's hands are tucked into the pockets of her sweat pants.

“Can I come in?” Softly, Ellie said. "Why not," and you opened the door to let her in. Trailing closely behind her, you shut the door. In silence, the two of you sat awkwardly on the edge of your bed.

"So what's up-" you begin, but Ellie cuts you off. "I'm sorry for bothering you. It's just so fucking boring out there."

"I was done with it, too, but you seemed real cozy with that blonde chick." You drew your arms across your chest. "Meh, she’s not really my type." She looked at you, waiting for a response of some kind.

The tension was thick. What the hell is she doing to make you feel this way? Her gorgeous brown freckles glistened in the warm light from your room, like stars. Her emerald eyes scrutinize, even torment you. Her lips tinged with saliva as she licked them.

"Listen, if and only if you smoke with me, I will get out of your hair." reaching into her hoodie pocket and removing a rolled joint. It was too soon to decline the offer. So you took it. Taking the joint from her grip and the lighter from your bedside table.

"don't gotta ask me twice." As you lit the joint, you smiled. Breathing in all the smoke, you held it in until your lungs began to burn before exhaling it. With her eyes fixed on you, Ellie observed you. You give her the joint.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

It didn't take long for it to hit. Your eyes darkened to a pale pink hue. Ellies' cheeks the same hue. All of a sudden, everything seemed more genuine. The way Ellie observed you and the rhythm of your heartbeat. At once, it encompassed everything.

"I missed hanging out with you." Ellie said, her eyes heavy as she met yours. It was like you could feel everything all at once. The muffled sounds of the 'sex playlist' played from outside. With the joint still burning, a haze of smoke filled the room. Having her here with you, you felt complete.

"Hey, do you want to try something?" Breaking the stillness was Ellie's raspy voice. "Like what?" you laugh. "Just trust me," Ellie says, grabbing the joint.

Her large hand lands on your jaw, gently pressing against it. Breathlessly, you said, "Els, what are you doing?" She disregarded you and took a long drag on the joint, holding it in her mouth rather than inhaling. Her lips found yours as she leaned in. You take a deep breath as your instinct takes over. She and all the smoke combined. It was intoxicating.

She began to back away, but you stopped her by holding onto her wrist, which was resting on your cheek, and drew her back in. You were so eager to feel her again that your nose bumped hers. With her other hand on the back of your neck, her calloused hand found the base of your neck and gripped it. Her full pink lips moved in unison with yours. Her tongue slowly possessing each crevice of your mouth.

She was a fantastic kisser. No guy you have ever kissed has been this good. You both drew back, trying to catch your breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this, Fuck Els” as you leaned on each other's foreheads.

"I want you." Her hot breath teased your face as she whispered it. Pushing her back, you wrapped your thighs around hers. She took hold of the fat of your ass and began kneading it like dough. It’s driving you crazy.

Her wet mouth latched onto the frail skin on your jawline leading down to your collar bone. All that could be heard were Ellie's labored breathing and the whines and whimpers that were dripping from your throat as she sucked and nibbled until bruises were left.

It was filthy. So filthy. But all you wanted was more. You can feel the slick pooling between your thighs as her hands indulged your body's curves. You gazed up at her, grinding into the seat of her lap. Her mullet cut hair fell perfectly on her face. Her eyes were dark like a gem, so full of lust that you could feel her crumbling beneath you.

Ellie grabs your hips and drives you deeper into her as you grind onto her clothed sex. She knows how badly you want this.

"What are you doing, hmm?" Ellie lets out a groan. Her cold veiny hand caresses the sliver of skin between your shorts and sweatshirt. "Ellie, please." You take her hand in yours and guide it up your stomach, stopping at the mounds of your naked tits. Her lips parted slightly as she felt the hard buds under her rough hands. You lift the hem of your shirt over your head, revealing yourself to her. She immediately gnaws at your tits, groaning from the sensation of you.

Your hands become entangled in her auburn hair, drawing her in as close as possible. You are pathetically wet for her. Your cunt aches for her. Ellie slid her hand up to the hem of your shorts, teasing her finger against your smooth skin. “Can I?” She asked roughly. You eagerly nod your head.

She pulls the thin fabric of your shorts down your thighs. "Fuck you are so wet," she says, her mouth watering at the slick glistening on your thighs. You cut her off by grabbing her hoodie and pulling it over her head. She held you skin to skin, sliding her middle finger down to your puffy clit. Rubbing small circles on it as you grind harder into her hand. Dragging her long digit to your aching hole, dipping the tip in and out ever so slightly. You can’t help but moan.

She puts her other hand around your neck and squeezes, not too hard, but just enough to break you. Her calloused, thick finger slides into your cunt. The pressure on your neck causes your pussy to throb around her finger.

"You are so fucking tight, babe, want me to fuck you with my fingers?" She says with clenched teeth. Ellie’s boxers felt tight around her thighs, probably soaking through her sweatpants just from watching you. She sloshes her finger deep inside your pussy dragging it against your gummy walls. You moan feeling her reach deeper in you. Pulling the slick coated finger out she lines up her ring finger to your hole joining her middle one. She kept her eyes on your pussy watching it stretch around the width of her digits.

“Oh fuck Ellie” you throw your head back feeling the pit of your stomach burn with arousal. You sink fully on her fingers pressing so hard you feel the hill of her palm on your clit. You let out a throaty whine and gasp as she pulls in and out, fucking you deep, hitting that ever-so-sensitive spot in you.

“There it is.” She murmured as she pounded her palm into your pussy. Her mouth finds your tits again, sucking on the peak of your nipple. Your jaw goes slack as she moves against you. "Mmmph fuck Els," you whimper.

"Cum for me. Cum right on my fingers." Ellie mumbles out. Your walls clench around her hand. Ellie grabs your jaw with her free hand and pulls you into a wet kiss. Riding her hand you moan into her mouth.

You inhale sharply. “Ellie I’m cumming”. As she fucks into you and rides out your orgasm, a whine escapes your mouth. She doesn’t pull out of you until you’re all spent. Her fingers pruned from your release. Raising them to her lips, she inserts them. She moans, sucking off your slick. "Tastes so fucking good"

Your thighs tremble around her waist as you give her another hungry kiss. She draws you in by roughly holding your hips with her hands. A knock interrupts your passionate kiss.

"Ellie, are you in here?" Your brother questioned from outside of the door. Oh fuck. You rush away from Ellie, finding your sleep shorts and a random shirt, while Ellie finds her own shirt. Once settled Ellie opens the door.

"You all okay?" Ellie's pink cheeks and the hickeys on your neck catch his attention. She brushed her auburn hair down with her fingers.

"mhm yeah, why?" she responds. "Ellie was just wondering why I left the party," you say.

"I need a partner for beer pong, we are about to play," he says. "All right, I am heading back down," Ellie says, turning to face you. "Okay, guys, have fun," you say as you watch them walk away.

You sink back into your bed. I am in way too deep.

[javiscigarette]

Push and Pull

Joel Miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Summary: Joel just realllyyy likes your dress

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) no use of y/n, established relationship, dirty talk, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, choking, spitting, spanking, cum play, degradation (name calling), hair pulling, dom! Joel Sub! reader, descriptions of subspace, multiple orgasms, you know he talks you through it, straight up pure smut litcherally no plot

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: Might've gotten carried away with this, just needed to get it out of my system. I want to eat Joel Miller.

The sun is now fully set, the stars twinkling in the sky while the moon shines brightly. The air is still thick with heat but there’s a gentle breeze, cool against your hot skin.

The glasses of wine you had throughout the night were settling nicely into your body, relaxing your muscles and make your head feel light. You had been on your best host behavior, chatting with everyone while making sure they were happy with a full drink in their hand.

Joel eventually found you alone in the kitchen, popping lids off of beer bottles and refilling the snacks while everyone else mingled outside.

He looked absolutely delicious. The sleeves of his black t-shirt clinging to his biceps, his cargo shorts exposing his muscular legs that had your nearly salivating. His hair looked soft and fluffy; a few curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. You could see in the way his eyes were softer and that goofy lopsided grin looked permanently stuck to his face, letting you know that he was starting to feel the glasses of whiskey he had been steadily throwing back.

"Babydollll" Joel groans playfully, setting his glass on the counter as he approaches you before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

"This dress is fucking killing me" He whispers in your ear before he starts pressing wet, hot open-mouthed kisses on the column of your neck. His mustache tickles your skin and you can smell the liquor and the cigarettes (that he swears he only smokes when he drinks, even though you both know that’s a flat out lie) on his breath.  

Of course, it’s the dress that he picked out a couple of days ago while he took you shopping in town, telling you to get whatever you wanted. It stopped mid-thigh, your ass centimeters away from being exposed if you bent over too far. The back was open too with thin straps, exposing as much skin as possible while perfectly stretching over your curves. 

You don't protest when his hands started to roam your body, sliding up and down your torso, stopping randomly to grab at your skin all while pressing wet, hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck. In fact, doing anything other than melting under his touch was just not an option right now.

"Look so fucking sexy, trying to show everyone what they can't have, hmm?" Joel whispers against the bare skin of your shoulder, his hands coming up to cup your breasts for a few seconds before reaching in the top of your dress to pull both of them out.

"Joel!" you gasp, trying to squirm out of his grasp. Any second anyone from could come inside and round the corner to find you with your breasts exposed with Joel's hands around them.

Joel obviously doesn't let you go. Instead, he takes a step forward, pressing his hips against your ass until your trapped between him and the counter. You can feel his hard on press up against you, sending a pulse of electricity to your core.

"Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart? Why else would you dress up like a slut if you don't want to act like one" Joel rasps.

You bite back a moan and throw your head back on his shoulder when he starts to pinch your nipples, rolling them gently between his thumb and index fingers.

"Yeah, I fucking knew it, baby. Such a fucking tease"

You can't deny how much you love when Joel is like this. Not too drunk that he can't control himself but drunk enough to let his walls down a little, to be riskier, to whisper absolutely filthy things in your ear before he takes complete control of you.

The moment only lasts for a few more seconds before it's interrupted by the sound of the back door opening followed by footsteps headed towards the kitchen.

Joel lets you go, taking a step away from you leaving you to frantically pull your dress back up to cover yourself. Tommy rounds the corner, immediately filling in Joel with a funny story about something that just happened outside. Tommy barely acknowledges you, too drunk to be polite right now. Your thankful that he’s completely oblivious to your reddened cheeks and flustered expression. You take a deep breath, trying to gather yourself, ignoring the way you can feel your slick already soaking your panties.

Joel takes two of the beers that you just opened and hands one to Tommy. They continue to chat as they walk out of the kitchen, Joel quickly turning to quickly eye you up and wink at you before turning the corner and heading back outside.

You let out a shaky sigh, half tempted to go upstairs and finish the job yourself. But you need to be a good host. You smooth your dress out, making sure everything is tucked in properly before you carry out the rest of the beers and the snacks. You make sure everyone is happy before you find Joel again, who's now sitting in a chair, talking with Tommy and a group of other men from work.

He catches sight of you, his eyes narrowing and a slight smirk creeping up on his face as you walk over to him. 

"Can I get you boys anything?" you ask sweetly, standing next to where Joel is sitting, resting a hand on his shoulder.

The men decline wanting anything else, happy with their glasses of whiskey and cold beers in their hands.

"We were just talking about how good of a host you are, sweetheart" Joel says with a knowing smirk, his eyes never leaving yours. He snakes a hand behind you before resting it just below the hem of your dress.

You blush, tingles radiating from where Joel's hand rests on your thigh to the rest of your body. Even the simplest of touches had your knees trembling.

"Can you get a smoke for me babydoll? The pack is on the table over there" Joel asks with a sly grin and a squeeze to the back of your thigh.

You glance over to the picnic table that's a couple of feet away, his cigarettes sitting on the far edge.

What a perfect opportunity to get him back for his little stunt in the kitchen.

You smile down at him before turning to saunter over to the picnic table, your hips swaying loosely with every step. You can practically feel Joel's eyes burning holes into your back.

You don't walk around to the other edge of the table. Instead, you rest a knee on the bench and lean over the table to reach the other side and grab the pack. You try your best to make sure that Joel gets a good view of how your dress rides up as you move. You know you succeeded when you hear him choke behind you, trying to cover it up with a cough when he catches a glimpse of your bare pussy. You hadn't had the chance to tell him that you had removed your soaked panties after he felt you up in the kitchen earlier, not bothering to put on a fresh pair.

With the pack and lighter in your hand, you stand up on both feet and turn around. Joel is staring straight at you, his eyes so dark and face stern that you’d be scared if you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. You fish a cigarette out of the pack, holding it up to your lips before lighting it and taking a drag. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he picks up his glass and finishes his whiskey in one gulp, watching as you return to his side.

"Here you go" you say with an innocent smile, handing him the lit cigarette.

Joel doesn't break his stare as he plucks the cigarette from between your fingers and places it between his lips. He takes one quick puff before standing up right in front of you. He wraps an arm around his waist and pulls you into his side.

"Well I'm just exhausted, think it's time for us to get ready for bed." Joel announces loud enough for almost everyone to hear.

Within 20 minutes, Joel is ushering the last guest out of the house, trying not to engage in anymore conversations while you bring in the dishes and empty beer bottles back into the kitchen.

Your skin is tingling with excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to face whatever you ignited in Joel.

You hear the front door slam shut as your wiping down a countertop. You barely have time to turn around before he's towering over you, staring down at you with his blown, black eyes.

"It's only 10pm, Joel. You that tired?" You tease him, waggling an eyebrow at him.

"You think that's fucking funny, baby? Your cunt hanging out like a goddamn whore? Showin’ off to everyone what's fucking mine" Joel growls, his lips curling up into a snarl as he speaks. 

"Then maybe you shouldn't feel me up until I'm soaking and then leave me hanging like that" You quip. You know that you’re poking the bear, but you can’t help yourself. You want to press all of his buttons.  More darkness seeps into his eyes. You can see the tendons in his neck bulging out and the muscles in his jaw flexing as he grinds his teeth, chewing over the words you just said.

"Turn the fuck around"

You know what you're about to say is going to have Joel seeing a hundred different shades of red. But you can't help but push him, see how far he'll let you go.

"What, you're finally decided you want to touch me again? Y'know, I could've just asked Tommy after you left me in the kitchen like that. He would've been on his knees for me in a second. I know you see the way he looks at me. I bet he co-"

You can't get another syllable out, the force of Joel pushing you down by your shoulders until you’re kneeling in front of him knocks all the air out of your lungs.

"Such a fucking brat" Joel growls.

You're completely mesmerized watching Joel undo his belt and push down his pants and boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out, inches from your face. He's harder than ever, the veins running up his length prominent, his tip red and leaking. You try to lean up to lick him but he's quicker than you. He sees what you're trying to do and immediately has a hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place.

"You wear that fucking dress, your leaking cunt hanging out in front of all of our friends and somehow this is my fault?" Joel seethes.

You press your lips together, suppressing a whimper at his words. You have him right where you want him. You know that he's about to punish you in the best way for talking to him like this before fucking you completely dumb on his cock. But you want him as worked up as possible, it’s always better the angrier he gets.

"No words now, sweetheart?" Joel coos, his tone sickeningly sweet laced with a bite of anger. He brings his other hand down your mouth, his thumb hooking on your bottom lip and pulling your jaw open.

"M'gonna wreck this fucking bratty mouth, sugar. Shut you up with my cock."

That's all the warning you get before Joel is shoving himself inside your mouth. Your eyes wide with shock meet his, but he doesn't let up at all. Instead, he shoves himself deeper down your throat as you gag around him, his hand in your hair holding you still right where he wants you. Once he's 3/4 of the way in your throat, he yanks your hair forward, forcing your mouth down the rest of his length.

You can't stop gagging around him, spit already seeping out the corners of your mouth as your lips stretch around him. He doesn't give you any time to get acclimated to his length before he's pulling his hips back until he's halfway out before slamming all the way back in. He sets a brutal pace from the beginning, knowing that if you tapped his thigh at any moment he'd immediately pull out and wrap you up in a blanket, snuggling with you for the rest of the night.

But you never tap.

"This what you wanted? Needy little brat needed my cock down her throat, huh?" Joel grunts, his hips quickly building up speed.

You let out a whine, the sound muffled, and he huffs at the feeling of the vibrations around his cock. You're so turned on right now, Joel's dominance breaking open the floodgates. You can feel your core pulse and clench around air, your slick slowly starting to drip down your thighs.

Joel's pace is fast and steady now, pulling out of your throat before snapping his hips forward again until your lips are pressed against the trimmed hair at his base. His huffs and grunts as he mercilessly fucks your mouth is making your core burn, even as tears leak out of corners your eyes. It drives you absolutely wild.

He suddenly tugs on your hair, cuing you to look up at him.

"Keep your eyes open when I give you this cock"

You moan around his length, his words going straight to your throbbing cunt. You knit your brows together, eyes glassy as you look up at him.

"Already lookin' ruined, baby and I haven't even touched you yet" Joel grunts. Your eyelashes flutter as you fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut.

Joel pulls back, his cock falling out of your mouth with a string of saliva connecting the tip to your bottom lip. He wraps a fist around himself and drags his wet tip across your puffy bottom lip. You poke your tongue out at he does so, trying desperately to taste more of him. It makes him chuckle with delight.

"You wanted this all along, didn't you, baby? Actin’ like a slut just so I’d be rough with you" Joel asks as his other hand moves from your hair to cup your jaw.

You don't have the chance to answer, Joel too quick to lightly slap his cock against your cheek. A quick nod is all you're able to give him before he's using the hand on your jaw to tilt up towards him. He replaces his tip with his thumb, sliding over your slick lower lip.

"Open" he demands simply.

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out with a small whine. He stares at you with dark eyes as he leans over, letting his spit drip from his mouth into yours. The warm liquid falls on your tongue and your quick to suck it back into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. He doesn't even have to say anything before you swallow and then open your mouth to show him.

"That's my good girl" Joel praises.

He moves at lightning speed, straightening back up and then shoving himself back in your mouth, immediately choking you on his length. He lets out a sigh and a whispered curse, his head falling back when he feels the heat of your wet mouth wrapped around him once again.

He leans down slightly, the angle making his cock slid deeper down your throat as he wraps a hand around your throat. He thrusts down your throat a few more times occasionally stopping when he's buried deep, feeling his tip bulge out against the palm he has wrapped around your throat.

"Fuck, babydoll. Take me so well, this mouth was made for me to fuck" Joel moans.

He gives a few final thrusts, going as deep as he possibly can before he's pulling out. You cough and gasp as you try to catch your breath. You can feel the tears staining your cheeks and you know your mascara is probably running down your cheeks right now, but you don't care. You know Joel loves to see how much he ruins you.

You watch as he lazily fists himself inches away from your face, his hand falling into an easy rhythm of sliding up and down, your spit making the glide effortless.

"Stand up."

You scramble to follow his instructions. You're already too fucked out to disobey him, his dominance easily sending you into submission. You manage to stand up, even though your knees are tight from sitting on them for so long, Joel's eyes glued to you and his hand steadily stroking his cock as you move.

You're barely on your feet before he grips your hip with his free hand and spins you around, bending you over until your cheek is pressed against the cool marble countertop.

"Such a fucking slut, baby" Joel grunts just above a whisper as he pushes your dress up your waist, leaving your ass exposed all for him.

You hear him moving behind you and you pick your head up a little to glance over your shoulder. You turn just in time to see Joel kicking off his pants before settling on his knees behind you.

A string of soft moans tumble past your lips, the heat of your breath fogging up the cold countertop as you feel Joel's hands palm your ass before spreading your cheeks. His thumbs slide to your folds, pulling them slightly open until your leaking hole is on full display for him. You gasp when you feel the cool air hit your burning core and then again when he exhales a hot breath, inches away from your aching cunt.

"So fucking wet, baby. Is this pretty pussy dripping for Tommy, sweetheart?"

His words cause a fresh gush of slick to drip from your core. He obviously notices and you can feel the hot breath of his chuckle against your exposed, soaked folds.

"N-no Joel, it's only for you. Only ever for you." You whine.

Joel lands a heavy smack to your cheek; the sound mixing with your loud cry and echoes out through the otherwise silent house.

"Use your fucking manners when you're talking to me" Joel growls.

It takes you a few seconds to fully understand his command, your brain already turning to goo in skull.

"Sir, fuck, sir, it's for you sir. I'm only yours, sir"

"That's fucking right" Joel grunts before diving into your aching cunt.

A loud moan rips through you as he immediately starts eating you out like a starved man at a buffet. You feel his tongue everywhere, swirling around your clit before tracing up and down your slit, darting into your dripping hole before coming up to your clit again.

Your knees go weak, your weight almost entirely supported by the counter underneath you. Joel is quick to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking harshly making you sob as hot electricity pulses through your veins.

"Fuck Joel, feels so fucking good" you cry out the white-hot ball of pleasure rapidly growing in your lower stomach.

He suddenly pulls away from you. You cry at the loss of his tongue, but it's cut off by your gasp as he delivers two harsh smacks to your ass.

"Use your fucking manners" Joel nearly shouts as he connects his palm to your ass again. "Not gonna tell you again"

You can't think straight, your brain five seconds behind everything that's happening to you.

"Sir!" You cry "Feels so good, sir"

Joel hums in approval before latching his mouth back on you again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull when you feel two of his thick fingers notch at your hole before pushing inside.

Stars dance behind your eyelids and cunt clenches tightly around his fingers as they press right up against your g-spot. You're falling apart so easily, the tension that built up over the course of the night suddenly hitting you at full strength.

"That’s it, baby. Take what I give you" Joel whispers before taking your clit between his lips once again. You nearly scream at the sensation, your hands clawing at the countertop trying to get a grip on the slick surface. He keeps up a rhythm that has your chest burning with how hard you're breathing. You try to fight the urge to push your hips back into his face, but you can't help it when you feel his tongue move from your clit to circle around his fingers where he's stretching you open. He knows exactly how to bring you close to edge as fast as possible.

But he also knows how quickly he take it away.

The sensation is gone as soon as it came, Joel pulling away from you leaving you breathless and clenching around nothing.

"Such a greedy cunt, you just can't help be bad, huh baby?" Joel coos.

You look over your shoulder at him to see him fisting himself again. You meet his gaze and he's looking at you with one eyebrow cocked, giving you a warning to use your words.

"Fuck  yes, sir. Need you always, I'll take anything you give me, sir" You moan, all of your inhibition flying out of the window.

Joel doesn't say anything as he smooths a hand up your spine until it reaches your cheek, gently pressing your cheek into the countertop while keeping you in place. You can't see him anymore, his hand preventing you from moving your head even an inch. But you do feel his tip notch at your aching entrance for just a moment before he slams his hips into yours, immediately stuffing you to the brim. 

"That's right, baby. You take what I give you and you don't fucking complain, hm?"

He starts fucking into you with full strokes, pulling almost all the way out before filling you back up in one movement, his tip nudging against your cervix.

You cry out against the counter as he falls into a fast pace, once again not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Your wet enough doesn’t necessarily hurt, but your walls are tingling with a dull ache as you slowly adjust to his massive girth inside of you. But you don’t dare to say anything knowing that this is part of your punishment.  

You swear you can feel him in your throat each time he presses into you, stuffing you impossibly full. You can't catch your breath, Joel knocking the air out of your lungs with each thrust. 

"S-so big and f-fast, sir I can't t-"

"Yes, you can, baby." Joel cuts you off "I know you can. You know this cunt was made for me so take your punishment like a good girl” Joel grunt, not slowing down for one second.

Your eyes roll back into your skull with a whimper as he repeatedly slams into you. All you can do is lay there, taking what he gives you. You know you can safe word out of it any second you want and he would stop instantly, but you can't think of anything worse than him stopping right now.

The dull ache of your stretched walls slowly morphs into pleasure, ecstasy steadily seeping into your bones and muscles. You're so drunk on his cock you can barely open your eyes and your mouth is hung open letting out a never-ending string of loud moans. The hot pool of pleasure in your stomach is growing quickly, but you try to suppress it, knowing that Joel isn't anywhere near to letting you cum. Your legs are trembling, your whole body jell-o as he slams into your g-spot over and over and over again.

You're both fully aware that he's steadily pushing you into the delicate headspace where your thoughts and sensations disappear as pleasure consumes you completely. The first time you slipped was after a long night of spanking and teasing and Joel fucking you senseless after you had been particularly bratty all day. He was genuinely terrified when you went limp under him, unable to say anything with tears steadily streaming down your face. He had stopped immediately and held you close to him until you came back to Earth and explained how he broke you in the best way. After that, it was a lot of trial and error, a lot of close supervision and reassurance check ins until you two fell into a comfortable routine.

He’s now completely comfortable pushing you all the way and that's exactly what he does. The tension of him choking you on his cock, quickly followed by him eating you out for a few moments before slamming into you while talking you through it the whole time was making your head spin.

Joel notices how your moans start to sound wet quickly followed by hot tears or pure pleasure wetting his palm. The tears scared him the most at first, but after you explained that they were more of a release of intense emotion and pleasure building up as he fucked you so well, he started to gradually feel more comfortable seeing you cry.

He moves his hand off your face and leans over, pressing his chest into your back. He slows his pace down considerably but doesn't stop.

"You're doing so well, angel." Joel praises. His tone is sweeter and gentler as he checks in with you "You doin okay?"

You nod lazily, your whole body shaking under him as tears flow freely down your face.

"Yes, sir. Safe word is m-mango" you choke out, already anticipating what he was about to ask "I don't want to use it, s-sir, please keep going"

Joel's heart swells and his cock simultaneously twitches inside of you, listening to you being so good for him, telling him that you're okay and begging for more, all with hot tears of pleasure falling down your face.

"Good girl" Joel whispers into your jaw. He presses a soft kiss behind your ear before standing up again, grasping your hips with both of his hands.

"Such a good fuckin’ girl" Joel huffs as he starts to quickly build back up to his original pace.

You barely register the slaps that Joel lands on your ass before he's slamming his hips at that devastating pace. Your body feels so light that you swear you would float away if Joel wasn't holding you down. Waves of pleasure washed over you, pulling you under like a riptide and holding you down until your mind goes blank of everything except for JoelJoelJoel. The world around you starts to fade away, your grip on reality withering away until it’s just you and Joel.

You swear you feel your soul leaving your body as you slip into a space of pure tranquility mixed with immense pleasure. It feels warm and comforting and incredibly safe. You're so pliant under his touch fully trusting him to take care of you. It's like you're offering your entire life to him on a silver platter.

You can hear him saying things to you, but your brain isn't working to make sense of the words, your mind too focused on his touch and the numbing pleasure of him pounding right into your g-spot. Your mouth is hanging open, smushed against the countertop, loud moans and the occasional sob tumbling past your lips as you start to drool on the marble.

Joel's watching you carefully, making sure that you don't slip too far under. His fingertips are digging into your hips, easily maneuvering you back and forth to meet his every thrust. He can't stop his own moans as he watches you succumb to the pleasure that he is giving you, seeing how malleable and soft you are for him right now. It's definitely not the first time he's delivered you to this point, but he can't help but be in complete awe as he watches you settle into this headspace.

He continues to pound into you, giving you what he knows you need. He notices the slight change in the tone of your moans and the way you start to clench around him so hard that he can't move and he knows your close. He brings two of his fingers up to your mouth, resting them on your bottom lip.

Your dizzy brain eventually registers his fingers, and you automatically wrap your lips around them, sucking them into your mouth. You hum happily, utterly content with one more of your holes being stuffed full. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, suckling softly on his two thick digits.

The edge of the counter is digging into your lower abdomen, adding even more pressure as Joel pummels into you. You can feel your orgasm quickly building up, making every inch of your body tingle. Joel removes his fingers slowly from your mouth despite your desperate whine.

You sob out loud, fat tears streaming down your face when you feel Joel bring his hand to your core, pressing his two spit-coated fingers against your clit and rubbing lazy circles.

You writhe under Joel's grip as your orgasm rips through you, choking on gasps and sobs that fall freely from your lips. Your heart pounds against your chest, every inch of your skin electrified as you are hurled over the edge with a loud scream.

"There you go, baby. Just let go f’me" Joel soothes, fully knowing that you're probably not even aware that he's talking. You're soon transported to a far away place, the pleasure pushing you out of your body and fully consuming you.

Joel's eyes roll back, his own pleasure starting to take over his senses when he feels you clench and gush around him. 

"Get so wet for me when you're like this, baby" Joel huffs.

He's not wrong. You're absolutely drenching him as you squeeze him tight, soaking his cock so much that it makes lewd squelching sounds and drips to the floor as he continues to fuck into you.

"You think Tommy cold fuck you like this, baby? Think he could fuck you absolutely stupid on his cock like this" Joel grunts between clenched teeth.

He's not expecting a response, but you moan out anyway.

"N-nooo, s-sir." You choke out in between sobs and moans.

It's music to his ears. He can't hold on any longer, the way you're squirming under him and squeezing around him, crying, and sobbing out for him is driving him insane. He grabs your hips as hard as he can and thrusts into you one, two, three more times before he's unloading deep inside of you with a loud, broken moan, just how he knows you like it.

You don't know how much time passes before the ringing in your ears starts to fade and you faintly hear Joel's voice calling out to you. You slowly return to your body, your sense slowly coming back to you one by one.

Joel has stopped thrusting completely, but he's still deep nestled inside of you, his warm chest pressed heavy against your back applying a comforting pressure.

"Come back to me, babydoll" He coaxes gently, brushing the hair out of your face. You blink your eyes open, your swollen eyelids and wet eyelashes blurring your vision. He presses soft kisses to your cheek, patiently waiting for you to come back from wherever you went.

You let out a soft whimper between sniffles, unable to make any other sound. You could stay here forever, in the warm, safe space pressed under Joel with his cock resting deep inside of you.

"You did so well" Joel muses against your cheek. He starts to rub a warm, soothing palm up your side. "Always so good, my sweet girl"

It takes every ounce of energy left in you to clear your throat and talk to him.

"Love you, Joel" You murmur with a satisfied smile.

You can feel Joel's chest vibrate with a laugh, feel his warm breath spread along your cheek and jaw. It's always the first thing you say to him when you come to, no matter how rough he is or how far he pushes you.

"Love you more, sweetheart. Lemme take care of you, yeah?" Joel asks softly.

You nod slightly, allowing him to stand up. You cringe at the cold air replacing the warmth of his body on top of you. He pulls out of you slowly, a fresh tear sliding down your cheek as you whine loudly at the loss. You hear Joel sigh as he watches his cum dribble out of your abused hole and onto your thigh.

"You look so pretty with my cum leakin’ out of you, baby" Joel says softly, running a palm up your inner thigh. "Can you take just a little more?"

You let out a high-pitched whine and nod.

"My sweet girl, taking whatever I give her" Joel whispers, swiping a finger through the cum that seeped out of you before gently pushing it back inside of you.

The sensation makes you nearly shout, your hypersensitive walls clenching so hard around your finger it almost hurts. He pushes his finger in and out so slowly that you feel every inch drag against your sore walls. He quickly finds the spongy spot on the roof of your wall, hooking his finger to nudge against it over and over again. You’re so sensitive but Joel knows how far he can push, and he’s not done yet.

“Give me another one, sweetheart. I know you can. Soak my fuckin’ hand” Joel commands quietly before adding a second finger. 

Your screw your eyes shut, a loud moan of echoing in the room as you squeeze around his fingers. You want to tell him to stop, that you can’t handle it, but you can’t even bear the thought of losing his touch. 

He’s quick to bring you right to the edge. You scream as your second orgasm in under five minutes crashing down hard on you, your whole entire body trembling as you squirt around his fingers. Joel groans deeply, watching your release gush out of you onto his hand and wrist and dripping down onto the floor. 

“Oh baby, look at that” Joel says, absolutely awestruck. 

He continues to slowly finger you until you come down from your orgasm. You whimper softly and try to squirm away from his touch letting him know that you’ve had enough. He removes his fingers, pressing a quick kiss to your lower back before standing up straight. He easily scoops you into his arms, knowing it's near impossible for you to walk right now. 

He carries you to your shared bedroom and places you down gently, making sure your head is resting on a squishy pillow. He takes a fluffy blanket from the end of the bed and drapes it over you, making sure you're fully covered. 

You sigh at the warmth, your muscles fully relaxing and melting into the bed.

"I'll be right back, angel" Joel whispers before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

In reality is takes Joel less than a minute to return but to you it feels like an eternity and a half. He eventually comes back, his hands full with a damp warm rag, a bag of pretzels, two wrapped squares of chocolate, a water bottle, and a bottle of Gatorade.

You giggle when you see him struggling to carry everything over to the bed and your heart swells in your chest knowing that he always takes such good care of you. 

He lifts the blanket and works a quickly and gently as possible to clean you up you just lay there, letting him maneuver your body however he pleases. Once he's satisfied, he quickly cleans himself up before tossing the rag onto the floor and climbing into the bed next you. 

He slips under the blanket, sitting upright with his back pressed against the headboard. Your heart is bursting at the seams as you watch him unscrew the caps of the bottles and place straws inside. He offers you the Gatorade first, watching intently as you sip, making sure that you get enough. After you finish, he unwraps a square of chocolate and holds it out for you. You eat it bite by bite, Joel holding it in his hand for you until you take your last bite. You innocently lick the melted chocolate off his fingers but it’s really just an excuse to have his fingers back in your mouth. You smile softly when you hear his breath hitch. He gently removes his fingers from your mouth, stopping you before he gets too worked up. He then offers you the water which you gratefully sip before laying your head back down on the pillow.

Joel sets the water down on the nightstand and slides down until his head is on the pillow next to you and pulls your body into his. You snuggle up next to him and rest your head on his bare chest, his heartbeat thumping softly in your ear as he wraps his arms around you. You close your eyes and smile, worlds beyond content and satisfied.

"That dress, angel. You're never wearing that in public ever again" Joel whispers as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

"How about when I need an excuse for you to fuck me like that again?" You tease.

"Oh baby, you just have to ask and I'll give you anything you want" Joel says quietly and you know he's dead serious.

You smile against the skin of his chest, warmth spreading through your body and quickly lulling you to sleep in the safe confines of Joel's arms.

----------

A/N: Thank you for reading!! I just finished my first year of my masters so get ready for a lot more content. This was originally a Javi P. fic but I think it went better with Mr. Miller as I writing it what do you guys think?? hugs and smoochies <3 mwah

[elliezlils11utt]

Dbf!abby

contents: nsfw? age gap, (reader is in early 20s, Abby is in 30s !!), maybe size kink? no real smut js a lot of tension, (possibly a pt two with smut?), risky!! pet names, (sweetie, angel, love.) no description of reader, no use of y/n.

summary: Abby babysits you when you visit home from university. with your father out at a dinner party. can you resit Abby’s teasing?

proof read?: never 😣

wc: 800?

A/n: this is based off of a c.ai bot made by @elliesssswife!! I really wanna make a pt.2 with public/risky sex. but idk !!

she was so damn pretty. and cool. What would your father think if he knew you were thinking about his best friend like that? you had returned from university that night. Your father was at a dinner party. you went into the kichen hoping to get a snack but instead you find a tall blond figure leaned up against the counter. a cig in between her lips.

“hey angel’ Abby says

‘ur dads at a dinner party, he told me to watch you while he’s gone.’ said Abby softly.

you don’t need a babysitter. your not a kid anymore but ur dad js can’t seem to fathom that fact. you know, you’d be mad if it was anyone but Abby. you and Abby had a sweet relationship, she was always so sweet to you. and not to mention she was so fucking hot. normally she had her hair tied up in a sharp braid. but today she was dressed down. her hair cascaded down her face. framing her features. she wore a black wifebeater and sweatpants. Fuck.

‘hey Abs’ you say softly, propping yourself up on the island counter in front of her. she took a drag of her cigarette and looked at you, giving you a look that made your legs shiver.

‘missed me angel?” she said, her eyes roaming your body. she looked so damn fine.

‘always’ you smile, tilting your head.

She grins, walking over to you and placing her hands on her hips.

‘How's college, love?’ she asked, running her hand over your chin and cheek. she was giving you a smug look, knowing damn well what she was doing to your body.

‘ it’s alright. missin home. glad to be back for a while. I really don’t wanna go back to that hell hole.’ you sigh, as you rant about your shitty college life

‘miss you & dad.’ you say with a bit of a pout.

‘been a while huh?’

‘too long’ you grab the cigarette from between her lips, taking a drag from it.

‘you shouldn’t be smoking sweetie.’

‘your not my mom Abigail’ you take another drag, longer then the last one. you inhale the smoke. blowing the rest out you cough a bit.

‘carful angel, take it slow.’

you roll your eyes looking back up at her. trying desperately to avoid the growing wet patch in your painties from her voice.

‘when will daddy be home?’

‘ion know, why? you tryna get rid of me already?’

‘nah, I love being with you. missed u abs.’ you look up at her with those eyes. her hands still stationed on your hips. holding you up on the counter. You watch her expression soften. her eyes roaming your face.

‘when did you go and grow up and get so fuckin charming, angel?”

she leans closer to you, your faces mear inches away from each other.

‘when I was off at collage breaking hearts obviously’ you say sarcastically. She laughed at your comment. Abby wrapped her arms around you and pulled you in for a tight hug.

‘You're a little troublemaker.’ She whispered in your ear, before speaking in a suggestive tone. her arms on full display in her tank top. you watch as her muscles flex in the dim light of the kitchen as she moves to enclose you in the frame of her tall build.

‘And you just love testing me, don't you, angel?’

you knew her antics, she always did this. try and start shit with you. not that you were complaining.

‘hm, maybe?’

you play along with her tone. she grinned, hearing you play along with her games. I mean how could you not when she looked so pretty for you.

‘and what would your dad think if he knew his innocent little girl was flirting with his best friend?’ she whispered in a sultry manner. her voice dropping as she spoke to u.

your faces are brought together. you feel her breath on your face, so in sync. every move she makes you move with her. your faces dancing with each other. your lips are inches away from meeting her own. begging the other one to give in first. your eyes wonder over her face, taking in every detail and freckle that marked her perfect skin. your heart pounded watching her eyes fill with desire.

you giggle before pulling away, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

‘tease’

she mumbled under her breath. she stared Into ur eyes with a hungry look.

‘Oh? says you abs!’

you giggle, her hands tracing your jaw.

She laughed as you said that. Abby loved your giggle. She looked at you intensely, her eyes filled with desire.

"Oh come on, who's the one who always makes me want to throw you against a wall and…’

she was about to say something more, but she stopped when she heard the sound of your father's car parked in the driveway. you both freeze completely.

‘fuck’ you whisper, a sigh of disappointment leaving your lips.

as you hear the door to the garage shuffle open Abby immediately backs away. standing were she once was across the island. if only you guys could be alone. ☹️

a/n: I want her so bad😣

[sodamnradd]

“Those are rotten for you.”

Draco jumped, startled by Granger’s presence. He hadn’t heard her coming. How alarming. He needed to be switched on at all times.

A beat too late, he replied, “What do you reckon will kill me first? This,” he lifted the cigarette, “or the war?”

“They turn your teeth yellow.”

His grin bore no kindness. “Who am I trying to impress?”

He’d joined The Order three weeks ago, shared this house with her for eight days, and this was the first time she’d approached him to chat. He was in no mood.

She shouldered past him into the house. “Goodnight, Malfoy.”

-

Granger reached for his cigarette, incensed. “Put that out! They’ll see it.”

He stretched his hand beyond her reach. “We’re bait. Our job is to be seen.”

“Not so obviously.” She Accio’d the cigarette and extinguished it in a huff. “It’s like you want us to get killed.”

Why was she here? She was too crucial for this role. Too valuable to have Draco, the team pariah, as her back up. If he screwed up, she could die.

She didn’t, of course, because when the crack of Apparation shattered the silence, they fought fiercely side by side.

-

A stone skittered down the cliff face and Draco glanced up to find Granger approaching. She swung her legs over the ledge, sitting beside him.

“Can I have some of that?” Her knuckles were dirt-stained. Tears shiny on her cheeks.

He passed her the cigarette.

She took a generous drag, handed it back to him, then put her head between her hands and began to sob.

He didn’t know how to comfort her.

What was another casualty during war? But Granger internalized every death as if she’d committed it herself.

He offered her another drag.

She wound her arms around him instead, as if the offering had been an invitation to seek comfort from him, and buried her face in his chest.

He stiffened. Flicked the cigarette over the edge of the cliff. Then, gradually, placed his arm around her.

The sun slipped behind the endless woods and still they sat there.

-

Draco stubbed his cigarette beneath his shoe and lit another, pacing back and forth.

“I should be at the Forest of Dean tonight,” he said the moment Kingsley entered the room.

“You’re needed here,” replied Kingsley without give.

“Granger and I have been partners for weeks—”

“We’ve told you not to get comfortable—”

“That’s utter bollocks!”

“She’ll be fine,” interrupted Ginny. “She’s with Ron.”

Draco blew smoke in her face.

“Prick,” she spat, storming away.

-

“It’s not that deep,” insisted Granger. But her voice told him otherwise.

He sent her up to his room. Furiously nicking Blood-Replenishing potion and bandages from the emergency supply.

He cleaned the wound on her arm and wrapped it meticulously. Fuming when she flinched. He would strangle Kingsley with his bare hands. This was why they couldn’t be apart.

As Granger slept, Draco smoked through a pack, never taking his eyes off her. What if the spell had slashed an artery? What if it had been a different curse?

There was no freedom in war, but nobody would stand between him and this witch ever again.

-

He was sharing a dart with Susan Bones when Granger entered the yard.

Unaware they had company, Bones boldly suggested, “I’m down to fuck, if you are.”

Draco watched Granger’s eyes flick between them. Her mouth flattened, and she left wordlessly.

“I’ve got someone,” he said, watching her shadow retreat. He didn’t yet, but hopefully soon.

-

Granger said, “Will you brush your teeth?” as Draco discarded his cigarette.

He considered saying no, but decided it was in his best interest to listen.

In his very best interest, in fact, when she crawled onto his lap upon his return. Large brown eyes blinking up at him. “Do you want to kiss me?” she asked.

He dipped forward to show her exactly what he’d wanted for weeks, but she pressed her fingers over his lips. “Are you sleeping with her?”

He knew who she meant, but still asked, “Who?”

“Susan.”

“Never. Nobody.” He kissed her fingers.

She replaced them with her mouth.

-

“Where are you going?” he growled, as Granger rolled out of bed. It was still dark.

“I’m being summoned.” She searched blindly for her bra, her knickers.

He checked his wand, finding it unnervingly cold. They were separating them again.

He grabbed her wrist, and she stumbled into his arms. “Draco!”

He kissed her deeply, breathlessly. “Run away with me.”

“But—"

“We’ll still fight,” he added, lighting a smoke. “On our own terms. They’re corrupt, Hermione. We’ll wind up dead with them.”

She hesitated. They had discussed this many times. Going rogue. There was more to be done without pseudo-authorities policing their moves. Plus, they couldn’t be apart anymore without losing their minds.

“On one condition,” she declared, snatching the cigarette from his fingers and flicking it away. “You’ll quit smoking.”

He watched it burn out. Then considered the witch in his bed. Perhaps she didn’t know it yet, but he would do anything for her.

Draco and Hermione were gone before sunrise.

(861 words, photo and prompt on twitter)

[angelisverba]

achilles heel

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

read part one here

word count: 14k

pairing: plug!h and y/n

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ping!

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

Ping!

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

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

Y/n: Hi, Harry! 

Are you available for delivery at the moment?

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

Harry: I am. What can I get you?

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

Y/n: Do you have any brownies?

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

Harry: I have half a dozen left tonight

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

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

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

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

Harry: I’m On my way! 

Y/n: See you soon!

Yeah, fuck the laws.

***

He makes it in 8 minutes. 

And something about this house doesn’t feel right. 

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

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

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

Harry: I’m outside

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

Y/n: Be right there!

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

“Hi, Harry!”

He thought she looked so fucking sexy tonight. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But y/n breaks their eye contact. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wishes he were, but he wasn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was having a bad trip. 

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

But his next thought cowed him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” she responds.

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

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

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

“Alright. Bye, Harry.” 

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” 

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

*** 

“Who were those people?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where will you sleep?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n nods, “Okay.” 

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

It was going to be a long night. 

***

Harry wakes up to the sound of mewling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Realization dawned on in. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask nicely.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it, baby?” 

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

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

“Yes! Yes!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[pariahsparadise]

Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-

JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3

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a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.

pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

"What are you doing here?"

JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.

"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.

"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."

JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.

Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.

But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.

He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.

Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.

"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.

Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.

"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.

"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"

"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.

Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.

JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.

"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.

"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.

"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"

"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."

Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."

You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."

"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.

"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.

"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.

"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.

"What-no. Where will you sleep?"

"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."

JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.

"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."

"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."

And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.

He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.

[420technoblazeit]

i just saw a radioapple animatic to a lovely night from la la land and i think it just hit me why i don't ship alastor and lucifer. i think it's infinitely funnier if instead of having the classic enemies to lovers dynamic there really is just hatred between them but all of hell is CONVINCED otherwise

like obviously given that theyre both father figures to charlie there's already rumors circulating but picture this. everyone in the hotel saw how close those two got during their duet so theyre like well maybe there's something there🤨🏳️‍🌈? but lucifer walks into the room after the hotel's been rebuilt and alastor immediately gets up off the couch to leave. but before he can even make it halfway there lucifer trips on nothing and somehow ends up IN his arms. straight out of a romance manga. and it only takes them half a second to get to opposite ends of the room but by that point angel's already taken 12 pictures and posted it on twitter and an hour later it's trending because of course it is. the radio demon and the king of hell are living together and theyve been spotted in such a compromising position? how scandalous! whatever, theyre both public figures so they both hope it brushes over quickly enough

but the worst part is it keeps happening. alastor goes to take a smoke break in the middle of the night and finds lucifer there on the roof. and when he tries to get back inside the door locks behind him and they have to call charlie to let them back in. but by that time a vox drone has already taken a video of the whole thing. they get into a fight at some point and someone walks in right as it was getting heated and thinks they were going to kiss. they were not. alastor just got so pissed that he was about to headbutt lucifer with his antlers. it's like theyre under some kind of romance trope spell and it's absolutely INFURIATING to both of them

all of the tabloids are running stories on this. it's the opening subject of every overlord meeting and alastor has to FIGHT to keep smiling every time as he insists there's nothing there. vox bursts into val's room in tears because he thinks his worst nightmare's come true and alastor's fucking the king of hell. everybody's terrified of what the fallout would be if they ever broke up. half the sinners are convinced that any day the hotel's just going to explode. no one believes in god anymore but it's the one thing that makes them start praying. but there actually is NOTHING there they just can't get anyone to believe otherwise. and neither of them has the heart to yell at charlie for continuously trying to push them together

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends danny and jason miscellaneous thoughts: because why not, i'm reworking ch2 because it no longer fits with the remaster of chapter 1 so i've been thinking of them, and i love talking about them. which you should totally go read the remaster because its 26k words and im very proud of it and it barely got any attention.

First off Ellie vapes. Mostly because I think its real fucking funny. The first time Danny finds out about it he gets all up in arms about it. Ellie at first thinks its because she's smoking -- which, helloooo pot meet kettle, Danny has been smoking for a lot longer than she has.

And then he throws a curveball at her and says he's upset specifically because its vaping. Like no, no. Dammit, if you're gonna fuck up your lungs you gotta do it properly, none of this cotton-candy flavored nonsense.

He plays it up for laughs and it's largely non-serious 'i can't believe you're using a vape', if only to hide the fact that he is genuinely displeased with his little sister smoking. Self-destructive behaviors and bad habits are his thing, thank you very much.

But, well, he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he told her he didn't like that she was smoking. He's aware its bad for him, but habits are hard to break and he's not particularly keen to break this one in particular.

Danny bullies her relentlessly about it whenever she vapes in front of him. Like don't be a loser, Elle, carry a carton of cigs and a lighter in your back pocket like the rest of us degenerates.

[more under the cut]

Secondly: Danny's piercings? He got the first lobe piercings as a lost bet from Sam in junior year, and they did it in her room with a needle, a small bottle of blood blossom extract, and an apple. He broke out in hives for a week after thanks to the blood blossom, but it prevented the hole from healing up :)

He got the rest done professionally at a piercing place in the Ghost Zone. He asked Johnny where to find it. Sam and Johnny (and Kitty) nearly convinced him into getting snakebites. He got an eyebrow piercing instead.

Danny's undercut is also self-done, he did it because Technus shot at him with an ectoblast and it missed hitting him, but set his hair on fire. Danny got it out pretty quickly, but it left his hair lopsided and obviously looking like it got burned by something. He went to Sam for help after the fight. He liked the way it looks so he's kept it that way since.

-

Vlad brought up Jason once(1) in a taunt during a fight, and this was after Jason disappeared from the ghost zone, and Danny very. very nearly killed him on the spot. He hasn't done it since.

Which leads into the other thing: Grief Triggers! As I call them. All Banshees have them in this au.

While all banshees are, in general, in a permanent state of grief, Grief Triggers are a specific emotional response that can cause them to spiral into a state of intense, sometimes debilitating sorrow, and most of the time causes them to start wailing.

Banshees know what their Grief Triggers are and in general tend to try and build up a form of resistance against it so that, if something occurs that happens to trigger said grief, they can at least either get away from other ghosts to let loose or have enough control over themselves that it'll take more work to send them spiraling.

As expected, Jason is Danny's grief trigger. He's built up a pretty good resistance to it so that hey, talking about him and his death is easier than when Danny was fourteen. But a little more prodding and it will trigger, especially depending on who brings him up and how. (See: Vlad)

Grief Triggers also manifest relatively the same; with the induction of an intense state of grief and sorrow, but how a banshee acts on it can sometimes vary. Again, it depends on who triggers it and how. Some of them can get,,, violent, depending on how it happens.

Rath, this au's 'Dan', is a case of a banshee being put into the grief state caused by grief triggers and... never really leaving it. Which they usually do on their own, or with help depending on the severity of it.

At the time it happened Danny was going through the worst week of his life a second time: his best friend's ghost disappeared, then his family and friends all died right in front of him, and then he was stuck with someone who wasn't helping him through that grief.

He was already in the grieving state when Vlad tore out his ghost half. As a result, Vlad only made it worse. With that fury thrown into the mix, Vlad ended up getting torn apart and nobody else was close enough with nor could they get close enough to Rath to help him come down from the wailing state.

So Rath ended up getting stuck in a perpetual negative feedback loop of absolute misery, and well... drove himself insane. The rest of the world became collateral as a result.

-

the difference between Danny and Jason lies in the fact that Jason died, while Danny is dead.

-

I'm having more thoughts on the CFAU/TMWS universe banshees, actually.

Banshees are either born in the ghost zone from ectoplasm and are ecto-entities and work as banshees as how we know of them, or they're human spirits that died mourning someone and that grief was so intense that it turned them into a banshee. They're a little more rare.

These banshees typically mourn only one person, or sometimes they follow their Realm-born counterparts and choose a family to mourn for. Typically their own.

Ember is not a banshee; human spirit banshees are always mourning another person. However, her abilities emulate certain qualities of banshees: like the beautiful singing. But in comparison to an actual banshee, Ember's voice pales.

Does this mean Danny has the better singing voice? Yeah. Ember is incensed by this.

-

If canon Danny and CFAU/TMWS Danny met, I think canon Danny would be kinda unsettled or off put by CFAU.

CFAU Danny still has some pretty core Danny traits, at least I like to think so -- his general drive to help people just out of compassion for them (even if it manifests differently at first due to trauma), his wit and humor, his fear of failing to protect his loved ones, all of those resonate with canon Danny.

However, canon Danny, as far as I can remember and as far as his wiki goes, rarely gets extremely angry or emotional. He gets irritated and he gets annoyed but him getting mad I don't think happens super often. CFAU Danny is the angrier one between Jason and Danny. It's one of the things I consider a division point between him and canon Danny as it's a result of him growing up in Crime Alley. Canon Danny is canonically shy and meek prior to becoming Phantom, CFAU Danny couldn't be -- he'd be dead already.

CFAU Danny's anger would off put canon Danny, in my opinion. His anger, his smoking, and for lack of a better term, his bloodlust would unsettle him.

Like, for example, say CFAU Danny gets transported to a canon (or canon-adjacent) Danny's universe. He's staying with canon for a little bit as they brainstorm how to get him back home, and CFAU Danny goes to school with canon if only so that he's not stuck in the house all day.

Whether they try and pass CFAU Danny off as canon's cousin or if the town already knows that he's another version of Danny, it doesn't matter. Because insert Dash.

Dash who, in CFAU Danny's world, has since learned not to fuck around with Danny or the other kids because Danny has long since asserted that he will beat his ass if he does. 'Fucking around' always predates the 'finding out', and Danny is happy to act as consequence.

(As my father told me (paraphrased) when I was a small child and full of uncontrollable anger: "there's gonna be a day where you're gonna hit someone, and they're gonna hit you back")

And canon Dash, who is used to canon Danny who kinda just takes it because it means that he won't target other people, would see CFAU Danny. He'd notice the resemblance between him and canon, immediately try and go "oh new target!", and try and bully him the same way he does to canon. And Danny "I am the consequences of your actions" CFAU Fenton, instantly throws hands.

Just, CFAU Danny is kind but he's also Gotham-raised and full of bite; he's meaner than canon is. He's more ruthless too, especially in his ghost fights. The ease of which he slips into violence would, imo, discomfort canon. CFAU and Canon would eventually get along though, they're not so different that they'd be in constant clash of each other.

(Canon Danny and Danyal Al Ghul however,,, thats another post LMAO)

[penvisions]

wish i never met you {a garnish one shot}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader)

Summary: Fear of rejection and messing up so beyond comprehension makes you regret crossing the professional line and getting to know Joel as you do now.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: canon typical language, joel thinks he's the one in charge but we all know it's really reader, religious contemplation, mentions of past trauma, mentions of bad family dynamics, smoking, consumption of alcohol, menstruation, talk of menstruation, blood, cramps, muscle soreness, unorthodox pregnancy announcement, reader is a hot mess, allusions to adult content, allusions to smut, mentions of past p in v, might need to add more if i missed anything!

A/N: wrote this as part of a fun, silly fic title prompt game submission from a sweet anon. it totally inspired an angsty din piece at first that i have in my drafts but then these two slammed into my brain and hijacked the idea. i just love them, your honor. i have so much love for them. NOW I KNOW THIS SUBJECT MATTER ISN'T FOR EVERYONE, I REALLY DEBATED POSTING THIS OVER THE LAST FEW DAYS BC I KNOW IT'S NOT EVERYONE'S CUP OF TEA but i feel like this is a good trajectory for these two, truly. i'm so sorry if anyone disagrees with the direction i took this in and i hopei t doesn't take away from the original series for y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“No, fuck off.” Was the quick response to a wide palm caressing over your back. You were hunched over your crossed legs on the couch, aware of how bad the position was for your posture. But it was the only way to find any relief on your aching back. You had thought it was cramps at first, really, but then you realized all the symptoms of your monthly cycle fell in line with something else when the bleeding never started.

“Excuse me, darlin’? You sure you wanna use that language with me?” Joel’s deep voice was tinged with an edge, giving you the chance to retract your expletives. You were never so outright with your denial, never wanting to deny the man a few feet away. But the way in which you had expressed it to an obviously exhausted Joel was maybe too bold for the late hour. But you didn’t take it, instead repeating yourself.

“Kindly, fuck off. Don’t touch me.” You pulled away from him, hunching lower under his hand to break the contact.

“That’s not much better, ya know.” Joel’s hands shifted to his waist, a thick brow raised as he took in the sight of you nearly balled up, the faint light of the screen lighting up your face as you ignored him.

A harsh contraction of your muscles had you groaning out, “I wish I never met you.”

“C’mon now, you don’t mean that.” Joel huffed, trying to keep his calm, but you knew it was hard for him even if you really didn’t feel all that good. You never took your pain or frustration out on him like this, it was always soft murmurs of ‘hold me’ or ‘can I borrow your warmth’. Never the way you were reacting now.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into y-“ His mouth snapped shut, eyes focusing on the screen. On the words you had typed into the search engine. Normally he would tease you over the typos, your fingers not working as quick as you mind for all the grace and focus you normally had to expertly wield a sharp knife.

 Your heart thumped at the sudden silence. The fizzling tension that had filled the room.

“Don’t!” You gasped out, slamming the laptop closed and shielding the device with your body completely.

“Darlin’…” You swore you could hear the cogs turning in his head. Thinking back on the depraved as desperate way you had been seeking him out when he returned home from a late shift at the restaurant even despite the haze of sleep, in the mornings before you had to peel yourself away to go to campus, the photos you had brazenly sent him without warning that had him shielding or turning his phone over throughout the day. Thinking back on the way you had been inhaling food at any occasion, none of your normal contemplation or silence after what you considered a binge. Thinking back on the way you had begun to complain of your work clothing feeling wrong and too tight on your aching body as you dressed in the morning.

When he moved to sit on the other side of the couch, far too close for comfort, you shied away and pressed your back into the arm on your end.

“Not gonna touch ya, you have my word.” He raised his hands placatingly, his expression so soft that the tears burst from you without warning.

“You do-don’t wanna touch me. Not anymo-more.” Hiccups jolted your body, making the skin you were already uncomfortable in tingle. “I ruined ev-everything.”

He regarded you with a small frown, his plush lips pulled down as he clasped his hands together in his lap. Just as he opened his mouth to speak the words flew from you.

“I remember what you said, on the line.” You narrowed your eyes at him as they echoed in your head.

‘It had been a slow day, prep and cleaning taking over most of the evening shift. It had been back before you had taken on a role in the kitchen. Sneaking fries from the bowl of them on the expo line. They hadn’t been hot or even salted, but they were better than snacking on the fruity garnishes at the bar.

He had been passing the time with who you hadn’t known at the time was his brother, Tommy. Who had driven into the city to help take a look at the empty lot beside the restaurant, both of them contemplating the construction of a patio. But they had ended up in the kitchen, hunger too strong a call.

While Joel was on the line, Tommy was beside you, sneaking fries with a wink in your direction. But you ignored him, focused on looking through the catalogue of one of your vendors. Trying to make a seasonal menu. But your ears caught the harsh grunt of the man your eyes trailed over in the midst of busy nights.

“Wouldn’t do it, no.”

“C’mon, you seriously tellin’ me you wouldn’t baby sit for me if I were to gift you with a niece or nephew.”

“No, ‘m too old. Hire a babysitter.”

“You’re full of it ‘n you know it.”

“Brother, a baby is a lot of work. Now, your baby? Even more so.” Joel leveled his brother with a look that silenced any other argument on the matter.’

The moment he realized what you were talking about, his brows flew up into his hairline and he breathed out a hearty chuckle.

“Darlin’, I was just givin’ him a hard time. You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t know you.” You stood up from the couch, body protesting the movement. Cupping a hand over your mouth, you breathed harshly as you tried to tamp down a bout of nausea. “And now that I do, I’m gonna have to consider literally everything on my own and I’m gonna hate how much it hurts to not know you any longer. I wish I-“

“No,” He sighed, brow furrowing before he pinned you with a serious expression. “You do know me now and I wouldn’t turn my back on you, on this. I’m in it, pretty girl, no matter what you decide to do.”

When you whipped away from him, shuddering breaths wracking your sore body, the crack of your voice on a sob spurred him into motion. His arms came around you slowly, giving you the chance to retreat if it wasn’t something you wanted. But you let him, the feel of his chest warm and soothing on your aching back. The push of his soft stomach comforting. His chin hooked over a shoulder, and he spoke in such a somber tone.

“Darlin’, I always thought I was too old to do this again. But I haven’t crossed fifty quite yet and the thought of you carrying my child, of loving me and my child. God, I would give anything for it to be our future. To see you blossom into yourself more, to show our baby the same devotion you give to everything in your life, you deserve somewhere to put all your love.”

One of his hands moved over the one you had on your middle. Holding you so secure, holding you both so secure.

“Joel…it’s a lot. It’s….we’re not even-“ You turned in his arms, facing him. His beautiful, open expression so full of love and adoration, all of it for you. Your heart melted in your chest, dripping low to flutter in your stomach. You weren’t even overtly religious, left over from the trauma of your childhood. Of being forced to attend mass and important holidays alongside your grandparents. The denial of your father never urging you to seek out a higher power in replacement. But the thought of technically being single and going through something like this. It made you afraid.

“There’s a ring in my sock drawer. Got it the day of our first do over date. ‘s why I was so close to the campus. It’s yours. I’m yours. This could be yours. But only if you want it.” Joel’s forehead lightly thumped against yours as he pressed in close. His breath a warm wash over your face, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke.

Looking between each of his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitancy from him it was quiet. When you didn’t find any, you felt a smile pull at your lips as you nodded your head in affirmation. Wet laughter bubbling up as his lips pressed to yours, a smile of his own for you to feel on them.

“But I still expect you to propose, can’t skip any steps with me. I know you think you’re hot shit with being crowned the city’s most prolific chef of the year but I swear to-“

He cut you off with another kiss, his moustache ticking your upper lip as he nipped at your bottom one.

“I don’t wanna miss any steps with ya, darlin’. I’m here for ‘em all.”

It was hard to ignore the stirring of other feelings in your body, drowning out the aches and pains. But when realization hit you, you pulled back with wide eyes.

“We’re gonna have to stop drinking and smoking!”

“We?”

taglist: @tuquoquebrute @jessthebaker @littlemisspascal @76bookworm76 @hiddenbabynyc @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @sarap-77 @honeyedmiller @undercoverpena

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

its @stevieweek day 5!!!! here's a modern vampire AU with some dom!stevie flavouring and eau de monsterfucking. amen.

wc: 1397 | rating M (for rampant sexual tension and simpism)

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s been pranked. He looks around the club as he sips his whiskey- it’s a nice place, kind of swanky, music loud enough to loosen inhibitions on the dancefloor but not so loud that you have to yell to be heard at the bar or in the velveteen little booths that line the edges of the room. There’s even a little stage area for live music or performances, currently unused, but he saw a flyer for a drag show while waiting in line and he’s actually considering coming back for that.

So while he’s not disappointed with the club itself per se, it’s not really what was promised to him.

Weeks ago, during a smoke sesh with the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys, Gareth had broken the news about a cool club he’d just discovered. “It’s a pretty cool place- kinda bougie and expensive, but the point is- the best part-”

Gareth had paused, wildly looking each of them in the eye. “It’s run by vampires.”

Obviously, everyone else had burst out laughing. “No the fuck it is not, Gare.”

“It is, I swear!” Gareth had said, completely straight faced, if not a little red from the mockery of his friends. Freak had almost passed out, he was laughing so hard. “My cousin- remember Chrissy? She goes there all the time! She said the owners run it to like- okay so obviously in, like, a Post-Twilight World, obviously there’s loads of people who’d love to get macked on by a vampire. So instead of, like, attacking people, they just. Let people come to them.”

“So it’s a vampire sex club.”

“Okay well when you say it, it sounds dumb. But essentially, yes. Vampire sex club.”

And so now Eddie was sitting in a club that was definitely not a vampire sex club. Sure, it’s kind of old-fashioned in a sort of swanky speakeasy way, and it uses a lot of red decor, but nothing else about it really screams vampire. There’s barely even any goth patrons, which he’d expect to be the main clientele of a vampire sex club. 

It was whatever. Honestly his main reason for coming was just because he trusted Chrissy’s judgement when it came to cool clubs.

He continues sipping his whiskey, leaning back against the bar and keeping an eye out for anyone pretty. Maybe turn this failed vampire sex venture into a successful regular human sex venture. Sure enough, a woman soon approaches the bar, and Eddie almost chokes on his drink.

She’s the most beautiful woman Eddie has ever seen. Miles of sun-kissed, mole-dotted skin revealed by a shimmery gold minidress, gorgeous chestnut waves cascading over one shoulder, and when she turns and catches Eddie’s eye he’s immediately lost in her honey coloured bedroom eyes.

Honestly, he barely even registers walking up to her, too busy cataloguing every inch of the woman before him to pay any attention to where he’s walking. She smiles as Eddie approaches, and he just about manages to avoid staring at her glossy pink lips for too long.

“Hi,” he says, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. “I’m Eddie!”

“Stevie,” she says, as she shakes his offered hand, looking him up and down in a way that makes him feel like some kind of specimen on display. But like, in a pleasant way. A very pleasant way. “I haven’t seen you around here before. First time?”

“Yeah, actually. You a regular, then?”

Stevie smiles again, something indulgent. “Something like that. Can I buy you a drink?”

Eddie gladly accepts, and he and Stevie quickly grab their drinks and head to one of the curtained booths tucked into a corner of the club. Eddie nurses his whiskey as Stevie sips at her water (she says she doesn’t drink, but comes to the club for the ambience and the people, which Eddie can appreciate). As they talk, Eddie mentions knowing Chrissy, which makes Stevie light up as she recognises Chrissy from previous nights at the club. Apparently Chrissy’s got some kind of thing going with Stevie’s sister Robin, and they while away some time laughing over stories of their shared friend.

“So that’s what brought you here, then? Chrissy gave you a recommendation?” Stevie asks, tilting her head adorably. It draws attention to the line of her neck, and the pretty little moles that dot it in just the right place to kiss.

He wrenches his eyes back up to her face, where she’s smiling knowingly. “Well- okay. You can’t laugh.”

Stevie nods, crosses her heart, and schools her face into something overly serious. Eddie huffs a laugh of his own.

“Okay, so. My friend heard that, apparently, this place is a, and I quote-” Eddie takes a breath, scrunching up his face and quickly saying, “a vampire sex club.”

“A vampire sex club?” Stevie says. Eddie’s eyes are still closed, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

“Those were his words, yes.”

Fabric shifts, and Eddie opens his eyes to see that Stevie has leant forward a bit into his space, elbow on the table and chin propped up in her hand. She gazes at him with hooded eyes and a slight smile on her face, like she’s in on a secret. Eddie never wants her to look away. 

“And you thought you’d, what, come see? Watch maybe?”

“I mean, I guess I was hoping someone would get a bit of a bite in,” Eddie laughs, and is gratified to hear Stevie join in. “Just a little nibble! Like, what, is it a crime to wanna get your neck munched on by a hot vampire?”

“No, it’s very reasonable,” Stevie says with a laugh in her voice. She reaches forward and brushes some of Eddie’s curls off his shoulder, exposing his neck and fixing it with an appraising look that makes Eddie blush. “And it’s a lovely neck. Probably get a lot of offers.”

Eddie waves her away playfully. “I see how it is. You only want me for my neck.”

“Not just for that,” she says, leaning in a bit. “You wanna know a secret?”

She’s so close now, Eddie can probably count her every eyelash. Her perfume is amazing. Her hair is brushing his shoulder. He’s gonna die from horniness, and he’s completely okay with that. He abstractly nods in response to her question, and she smiles like he’s being a Very Good Boy. Which he absolutely is. He can be such a good boy.

“Well,” she whispers, pulling Eddie out of his increasingly X-rated thoughts and graciously allowing him to lean in even closer to hear her. “It’s not not a vampire sex club.”

Eddie tilts his head and makes a wordless noise of interest.

“There’s just the two of us, and any sex that happens isn’t actually in the club. Non-mandatory, but,” she looks Eddie up and down like she wants to eat him. Maybe she does. “It’s definitely on the table.”

Eddie’s gobsmacked. “Wha- really?”

Stevie nods, lips pulling back in a grin that shows off- yeah. Those are some very sharp teeth.

“Please,” he says, voice hoarse with want, the word practically tearing itself from his throat with very little input from his brain.

Stevie tilts her head, Cheshire-cat grin still in place, and Eddie feels very much like a mouse being batted around in her paws. “You gonna beg, baby?”

“Stevie, sweetheart,” he puts his hand over hers, hanging onto her like a drowning man would a liferaft. “I’d worship you like a goddess.”

He’s rewarded with a pleased hum, Stevie’s eyes darkening in a way that gets his own heartbeat quickening. She lays a gentle hand on his chin, turning his face this way and that like she’s inspecting a purchase, before leaning back with a considering nod like she’s come to a conclusion. “Yeah, you will, won’t you?”

With that, she stands up, leaving Eddie blinking up at her from his seat. Stevie smiles her ‘good boy’ smile at him, like she’s pleased to see him exactly where he should be. Below her, gazing up in awe and adoration. 

“Come on then, big boy,” she coos, and then walks briskly to the door. Eddie scrambles after her, barely remembering how to use his legs but powerless to do anything else.

He’s gonna have to buy Gareth a gift basket.

[whumper-whimsy]

@augusnippets day 16

Humiliation / dehumanization / conditioning

Continuation of Day 15

Self-harm, abusive relationship, unhealthy/toxic behavior, nsfwhump, dubcon, shaming of sex work, domestic violence, drugs mention

(Lmk if I'm missing a tag!!)

°

Whumpee knocked on Whumper's door, trying to dry his tears as he waited. Maybe Whumper would be having a good day. Maybe he would comfort Whumpee.

The door opened, and Whumper looked down at Whumpee for a moment. He scoffed and signaled him in, looking rather amused.

"You look like hell," Whumper murmured, shutting the door as Whumpee made his way to the couch. "Couldn't at least pretty yourself up before coming to see me? And here I was thinking you cared."

Whumper's words bit into Whumpee, and he averted his eyes. "I- I'm not doing good right now, I kind of had a breakdown earlier, and-"

"Over what? What in your pampered little life has gotten you so worked up that you did all that, hm? Run out of cigarettes again?"

Whumpee squeezed his thumb. "Whumper, you know I've been clean six months."

"Oh? So what have you taken up instead, hm? Smoking weed now? Maybe you're selling your body to get your rocks off, huh?"

Whumpee subconsciously grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Whumper, I'm not —"

"Ohhh, don't tell me," Whumper broke out in laughter, grabbing Whumpee's arm. "You're cutting? Really? What are you, a thirteen year-old girl?" He rolled the sleeve back, revealing the barely-scabbing cuts. He ran a finger over them, looking smug. "Christ, what a charity case you are."

"Listen, I–"

"Pfft, that's just pathetic. God, I don't know why I bother wasting time on you." Whumper rolled his eyes, reaching to pull off Whumpee's shirt. "At least you're a good fuck, huh?"

"Can you stop interrupting me?" Whumpee bit back, getting frustrated.

"Oh, could you just shut the fuck up? Jesus Christ." Whumper slipped his t-shirt off, grabbing Whumpee and pulling him to the bedroom. "All you do is talk."

Whumpee bit down on his lip, following Whumper into the bedroom. He sat back on the bed, looking up at Whumper. At least the sex was usually good.

Whumper pulled Whumpee's pants off, looking down at his thighs. "Seriously? Here too?" He mocked Whumpee's cuts, pushing his legs apart as he took his own pants off.

Whumpee said nothing, shame burning his face. He fought back tears, watching Whumper approach.

The taller man reached down and kissed Whumpee in his rough, dominant way. His hand threaded into Whumpee's hair, tugging him into place as Whumper's tongue dominated his mouth.

Whumpee sunk into the kiss, relaxing and wrapping his arms around Whumper's shoulders. He was lowered onto his back as Whumper straddled his hips, pinching at his injured thighs.

Whumpee squirmed, wincing. "S- stop that, it hurts..."

"Well, you obviously like pain if you're willing to do this to yourself."

"I don't like it!"

"Tell me you do." Whumper pushed into Whumpee, stretching him out.

Whumpee cried out, biting his lip, "I don't!"

Whumper smacked Whumpee across the face. "Tell me you do, or I'll hit you harder."

Whumpee pressed his face into Whumper's shoulder, trying to cover up his tears. He clung to Whumper, losing himself in the rhythm of his thrusts. "I like it," he murmured against the man's sweaty neck.

Whumper pulled out his phone, the flash shining in Whumpee's eyes.

"Say it again."

"Whumper—?"

"Again."

"...I like it."

"Good boy," Whumper purred. "I'll save that for later, baby."

Baby.

Whumpee held onto the petname for the rest of the night, glad to have pleased Whumper.

[msmk11]

I saw that you wanted some tangerine requests. I'd say I'm pretty good at requesting those🤓☝️.

OK, so I really like this concept.

Tangerine and reader have met before. Maybe it was at a gala. Maybe it was on a mission, I'm just gonna leave that open to you. But the point is, they have had multiple meetings before. Maybe they flirted on the mission or maybe they just got into a fight, again leaving that for you.

Basically, Lemon Tangerine and Reader have all been assigned to do a mission. And before that mission happens, they're planning at a dinner ( They don't really have the worry about blowing their cover because the diners kind of like in assassin's diner where assassins can meet up)

And a scene like this happens (ripping off of pulp fiction) And instead of talking about the pilot, he brings up her career as an assassin.

https://youtu.be/O3tGImqhrMo?si=1FVe6VFQSvZC7UfR

They flirt, they plan, Lemon feels awkward

And they both leave thinking about each other. I love this concept so much!!!!

Sorry for any grammar mistakes

I’m Sorry, Thank You, I’ll Always Protect You

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.5k

CW: lots of cursing, mention of weapons and blood, mentions of food, mention of alcohol, smoking (just cigarettes), mentions of death/fighting (it’s a Tan fic for goodness sake)

Author’s Note: Thanks for requesting lovely! Hope you enjoy! (This fic is also proof that I can’t write briefly for the life of me.) (also, side note, for the sake of the fic, your codename is viper)

The charming classical music playing softly in the background hardly matches your agitated mood. Your handler had just given you a new mission. One that, to your dismay, was not a one-man job, but rather, required you to work with partners. You always preferred to work alone because having a partner could get messy fast. Whether it was because they were too gutsy, not gutsy enough, or they were a cocky, arrogant asshole, you’d been thrust into one too many less-than-desirable situations because of the interference of a partner. Therefore, going into this mission, you are, rightfully, hesitant, and you pray that you haven’t been partnered with a total fucking idiot.

You anxiously check your watch for the umpteenth time, drumming your fingers on the dark, wooden table. Your new partners are not late, yet, but the dread pooling in your stomach makes you anxious to get this meeting over with as soon as possible.

“Viper?” A deep, heavily British voice declares.

“That’s me,” you say, looking up. And then your voice dies in your throat.

“Oh, bloody fucking hell,” the man in front of you curses.

It’s him. That arrogant bastard you’ve had the unfortunate luck of working with before. His twin is here too, of course, and you’re thankful for the slightly more pleasant company.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite twins, Peanut Butter and Jelly,” you drawl.

Peanut Butter and Jelly- your own personal nicknames for the twins. Ones that, to your delight, really pissed off the brunette.

“Told you not to fucking call us that,” the mustached man grumbles, sliding into the booth across from you.

His brother follows after him, and you notice the smirk he is trying to hide, “You’re just mad that you’ve been dubbed Jelly.”

“Yeah, ‘cos everyone bloody knows that peanut butter is the better part of the fucking sandwich. And I’m the better twin, obviously, so I should be peanut butter” he growls.

“The masses would disagree, Jelly, you fucking prick,” you retort.

His jaw tenses and you can’t help but revel in the feeling of getting him all worked up.

“Well aren’t you still a fucking daisy,” he replies.

“And as charming as always,” his brother adds, winking.

“Always a pleasure to see you PB. Though I suppose I can’t call you that on the job. What’ll your code name be this time?”

“I’m Lemon,” he responds, “and my brother here is going by Tangerine.”

You snort, “like the fucking fruits?”

Tangerine glares at you, “Yes, like the fucking fruits. What’s so funny about it?”

You hum and sigh dramatically, “I don’t know, Tan, it just seems a little silly, don’t you think? I mean, I can see Lemon being intimidating, because you never know what you’re gonna get with one. But Tangerine sounds pathetic, really. It’s the snack of grubby-handed children.”

You’re pretty sure his mustache twitches, and his hands certainly close into fists, “It’s sophisticated, yeah? Classic. No one likes fucking lemons.”

You feign mock offense, “I do. I like lemons a lot, actually. Tangerines, not so much.”

“Well sorry if I don’t really value your fucking opinion,” he spits out.

“I like lemons too, mate,” Lemon tells him.

“Well fuck me then.”

In your most teasing, seductive voice you reply, “Later baby, we have work to do first.”

Tangerine chokes on his spit and you hide your smirk as you pick up the menu.

Lemon coughs uncomfortably as he follows suit, “so what’ll it be tonight? We’re paying.”

“Like fucking hell we’re paying for her,” Tangerine protests.

Though you can’t see it, the grimace that flickers across the brunette’s face tells you that Lemon has kicked him in the shin, “Be fucking polite will ya, brotha’? Can’t go around dressed like that and then not pay for people.”

Lemon isn’t wrong. Every time you’ve seen Tangerine, he’s been dressed to the nines, fitted in the finest of suits and decked out in gold bling. It’s a wonder to you that he ever dresses nicely at all, considering all the blood that ends up on him by the end of a mission.

The brother with frosted tips, you think, has always had more swagger and appropriate mission-clothing. He is usually dressed more casually in a jean jacket and semi-formal shirt. Tonight, it’s a blue button-up with a Thomas the Tank Engine tie.

Before Tangerine can make some nasty reply, the waitress appears at the table asking if you’re ready to order. It’s a sight to behold, watching the cocky douche switch from his true, unpleasant self to a polite British gentleman.

“Yes, darling. I’ll take the steak, medium rare, and a whiskey f’me, please.”

You’re not surprised he orders a fucking steak, and, for some reason, it really pisses you off. While Lemon orders a burger and fries, you scan the menu looking to order whatever will tick him off the most.

“And what’ll it be for you, ma’am,” she says to you.

“I’ll have the most expensive thing on the menu, please,” you tell her sweetly. And then, you motion to your counterpart, “Tangerine here is paying tonight, and said to treat myself. Quite the doll, isn’t he?”

Tangerine masks his grimace with a charming smile, one that makes the waitress blush a little.

“Only the best for you, love” he says through gritted teeth.

You ignore the way your heart flutters the teeniest bit at the nickname.

When the waitress walks away with your menus, the brunette merely glares at you.

You only give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “Thank you, Tan. You’re awfully generous.”

He inhales sharply, trying to stay calm.

“If ya didn’t have such a pretty face, I think I’d punch ya right now. Lucky for you, darling.”

“Lucky for you too, I guess. Wouldn’t want my blood to ruin your shiny, new bling,” you retort, judgmental eyes trailing down to his adorned fingers.

“Right well,” Lemon interrupts, “can we get down to business? Please. You two’s bickering is making my hair whiter than it already is.”

Tangerine bites his tongue and nods while you just smirk.

Lemon turns to you, “Viper, I’m sure you got the briefing?”

You nod.

“I can tell this job is gonna be a lot more fucking difficult than our last one. We gotta save one person from a whole ass gang. It’s gonna be bloody.”

You lean back casually in your seat and cross your arms, “Won’t be a problem for me, Lemon. These sorts of jobs are my speciality.”

You dig through your bag beside you and pull out a pack of cigarettes. You put one to your lips and then curse, “Bollocks, forgot my lighter. Either of you happen to have one on you?”

Lemon shakes his head, “Nah, don’t smoke. Already put my life at risk everyday for my job. Not about to tease fate with those killers.”

The cigarette hangs loosely between your lips and you smile lazily at him, “to each their own, I guess. Tangerine?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and smirks, “Might, if you give me a cig.”

You roll your eyes at him and sigh. You pull out another cigarette and give it to him. He pops it in his mouth and then pulls out a silver lighter from his suit pocket. He flicks it on with one try and holds the lighter to the tip. It lights and smoke pours out. You watch the way his pink lips blow out a ring of smoke, and it’s for much longer than you’d ever admit. He takes another long, slow drag and you know that he’s testing your patience. As much as you want to nag him to hurry up, you don’t, knowing that if you did, he’d only purposely take longer. Finally, he holds out the lighter towards you. You go to take it from him and he swiftly pulls it back.

“Like fucking hell you’ll take this, love. This here is my nicest lighter, and I’m not going to let you fucking break it.”

You huff, “Fine, fine. Do whatever the hell you want.” And under your breath you mutter, “Asshat.”

You lean across the table, cigarette between your lips, and he reaches out to light it. The tiny flame pops up, and his hand gets so close to your mouth that if you moved forward just a little bit, your lips would connect with his skin. It isn’t an unpleasant thought, and that’s what disturbs you the most. Once it’s lit, you quickly pull away and take a long drag. You close your eyes and let the smoke work its way into your lungs, calming you.

“So for the mission,” you sigh, taking another inhale of smoke, “I think one of you two needs to be in charge of getting the hostage, so I can help take out the mob.”

“Yeah bloody right,” Tangerine argues, “Lemon and I are a team. You’re not fucking spliting us up.”

You lean forward and narrow your eyes at him, “For the sake of this mission, we’re a team. And if you have a fucking problem with that, Tangerine, I’m going to have a fucking problem with you.”

Tangerine is about to spit something else at you when Lemon interferes.

“That’s enough bickering from you two. We all have to work together, whether you like it or not. So you two best sort yourselves out now, because I swear to god, if I die ‘cos you two can’t get your shit together, I’m going to come back and kill you both.”

You turn and look at Lemon seriously, “Last I recall, I was the one that almost fucking died last time because of your shithead brother.”

(flashback)

Though it had been nearly three years since your last mission together, you could remember that night clear as day. It’d been a double-profit job- you three were assigned to attend a charity gala and steal a diamond necklace being auctioned off while also partaking in a little shill bidding to hike up the price of the necklace. A heist/scam job, in your opinion, was an easy cash-grab in comparison to your usual missions as an assassin. Tangerine and Lemon had thought so too. The plan had been simple: you and Tangerine would appear at the auction as a wealthy couple interested in buying the necklace, and drive the bidding price way up. The highest bidder would pay a hell of a lot more than the necklace was worth, and that chunk of money would go straight into the pockets of your employer.

Lemon, on the other hand, had gotten hired to be a part of the auction staff, which gave him the chance to switch out the diamonds for a fake.

You’d shown up that night in a sleek, midnight blue dress that hugged your curves and shimmered slightly like the night sky. Tangerine had worn a suit that matched in color, though it was adorned with white stripes. He’d looked really bloody good that evening and you’d hated him for it. It’d left you feeling just a little flustered and distracted- a dangerous mindset to be in on a job. The early half of the night should’ve been easy. All you’d had to do was lay on the charm thick with the wealthy folks and spread the word that the shiny, new couple was interested in the diamond necklace. Greedy as that lot was, you and Tangerine had known that you two’s feigned interest in the necklace would get it a lot of bidders.

As it turned out, the job hadn’t been so easy, not because the objective had been hard, but because Tangerine’s hands had been all over you all night. Deep down, you’d known it was all part of the appearance you were putting on, but after a while, his touching had started to get to you. The horny part of you had been delighted to have his big, calloused hands on your back and bare shoulders. But the other, more serious side of you had been uncomfortable with his touch. As a woman in the field, you’d rarely been taken seriously and were often only seen as a piece of meat. In that moment you had begun to feel the same. It’d felt like Tangerine was showing you off saying, “look how sexy and wonderful my (fake) wife is”. And as the night had progressed, those two conflicting emotions had come crashing together, leaving you angry and overwhelmed.

The auction had set off without a hitch, and the two of you had braced yourself when the diamond necklace was brought out. Once the bidding war had started, all eyes were on you two, and Tangerine’s hand had casually made its way to your thigh. That, for some reason, had been your breaking point, and you’d hissed under your breath, “Get your hand off my fucking thigh, now.”

Tangerine had only been half paying attention, too focused on the bidding going on, and so he’d only mumbled, “quiet, darling.”

That had really pissed you off and you’d begun to curse at him under your breath. You’d gone to force his hand off your thigh, and that’s when shit had hit the fan. You’d looked down for one second, and then you were on the floor, Tangerine on top of you. There’s been shouts and screams and the loud bangs of gunshots. Bewildered, you’d tried to sit up, but had instantly hissed in pain. Everything had happened so fast, you hadn't noticed the bullet that had grazed your side. The one that, you would later learn, had been aimed right at your chest until Tangerine saved you. It seemed your mission had been leaked, and people had been sent to take you three out. Though you’d only been grazed, your counterpart had forced you to stay in hiding while he’d run off to take care of the last of the men.

When the job had been finished, Tangerine had hauled you up and out to the side of the building where Lemon had been waiting with the car. It was only when you’d driven a few miles away that the shock had finally settled and was replaced with fear, anger, shame, and embarrassment. And instead of dealing with your emotions healthily, you’d lashed out at Tangerine. You and him had gotten into a screaming match- you’d blamed him for invading your space and treating you like a wounded animal and he’d called you negligent and over-emotional. The night hadn’t ended in any reconciliation, and he’d been a thorn in your side ever since.

It seemed like he always popped up at the most inconvenient times, often messing with your missions or just plain pissing you off.

Those past three years of tension culminated into your hatred for him today, and the fact that he’d somehow gotten more handsome since the last time you’d seen him didn’t help either.

(Back to present)

“Oh bloody ‘ell, here we go again,” Lemon curses.

But then, the unexpected happened.

You’re tense, biting words already at the tip of your tongue, ready to argue whatever point Tangerine makes.

Instead, he quietly says, “I wasn’t ever gonna let you die, love.”

Your heart literally stops beating in your chest for a moment, and you swear that his gaze softens a little.

“I was aware of our surroundings the whole time, and also knew you were off your game that night. Your death was never an option. I wasn’t going to allow it.”

You begin to butt in, trying to defend why you were off your game

Tangerine only interrupts you, “And you don’t need to explain to me or anyone why you were off your game. You just gotta trust that we also know what we’re doing. And you gotta trust that I- we- got your back. It’s also why I think you should be in charge of the hostage. It’s safest if Lemon and I work together to protect you while you go for ‘em. Anyhow, you yourself have said that ya work best alone .”

He turns to you and Lemon with a slightly vulnerable look on his face, “No one’s dying on this mission, I swear by it.”

If Tangerine couldn’t already tell that you and Lemon are slightly shocked by his emotional outburst, the silence that follows certainly does. You hold Tangerine’s gaze, his blue eyes piercing into yours, and a series of words seem to be exchanged:

I’m sorry.

No, I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I’ll always protect you.

In your peripheral you see Lemon shift uncomfortably in his seat and you cough, finally breaking eye contact with Tangerine and taking another drag of your cigarette.

Tangerine inhales deeply through his nose and takes a drag too.

Then he says, “Although I know you could take those men out quickly, Viper, I think we’ll work better as a team if Lemon and I can simultaneously take the guards out while you move ahead. We basically have twin telepathy and work like a well-oiled machine. Plus, you can most easily hold your own if you run into anyone on your way to the hostage.”

You wave him off, “No need to flatter me, Tangerine. You two could hold your own just as well.”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” he tells you, “Everyone’s been talking about your job in Peru.”

“Ah my moment of glory,” you say with a smirk and a roll of your eyes, “pretty sure I peaked then.”

Tangerine smiles at you a little, an actual, genuine smile, “What was it actually like, that mission? People tend to always fucking throw things out of proportion.”

“It was a solo mission where I was just supposed to take out the CEO of my client’s rival company and her guards. But it ended up being an ambush. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, of course, but Christ, it was bloody.”

“And how’d you do it all by yourself?”

“With a knife and a gun. See, im pretty good with knives. Can throw ‘em, stab, slice, the likes. I even tried something new with a knife on that mission, out of necessity.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you impatiently as he blows out another puff of smoke, “What was it?”

“Nah, too gory,” you say calmly, taking another drag of your cig.

“Love, I’m a fucking assassin too, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Using a knife, it’s different from a gun, Tangerine. It’s a lot more cruel and I’d rather not tell it to you,” you reply somewhat shyly.

“A hundred other people already know though,” he counters, “and it might change what I think of you.”

You pause, thinking over your next words carefully, “that’s what I’m afraid of. I know we’re in a nasty business, but I’d rather not have my partners think I’m a monster.”

Tangerine puts his cigarette out on the windowsill and looks at you softly, “that’s not what I meant and you know it. It’d only make me respect you more, not less.”

And then, he adds, with a teasing smirk, “not that I could respect you any less than I already do.”

You roll your eyes and suppress a giggle. A fucking giggle.

“Well I’d rather not risk it. And anyways, there’s too much pressure, now that I’ve built it all up.”

“Fucking tease,” he whispers playfully, and kicks your leg lightly under the table.

You hide your blush under the guise of looking down to put out your cigarette. When you look up, you catch Tangerine’s gaze again, and the tension is palpable.

When the waitress suddenly arrives with the food, Lemon vocalizes exactly what you’re thinking, “oh thank god. Jesus Christ.”

You dig-in to whatever the fuck you ordered, using it as a distraction from Tangerine.

*****

The rest of the dinner is quiet and, as promised, Tangerine pays. Lemon leads the way out, and you’re acutely aware of every movement of your body as Tangerine walks behind you. When you get to the door, he grabs it from Lemon before you can, and he’s so close to you his cologne makes you woozy.

When you make it out to the parking lot, Tangerine sends Lemon off to find the car while he escorts you to yours. Though you unlock your car, he opens the door for you. As you get settled, he leans against the roof, and it makes his muscles bulge deliciously.

“You be safe tonight, Viper, and I’ll see you in a few days.”

You nod, “goodnight, Jelly, don’t miss me too much.”

He winks at you, “I won’t, cos I’ll see you in my dreams tonight.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, but internally your stomach does flips.

Tangerine watches as you pull away, a sort of ache in his chest. Lemon pulls up in the car and he gets in, still thinking about you. Before he has a moment to process anything, Lemon smacks him upside the head.

“Ow, fucking shit,” he curses, “what the bloody hell was that for?”

“For being fucking whipped for The Viper, you dumb shit.”

[venusandsaturnsrings]

Thoughts on Wriothesley?

I HAVE A LOT THANK YOU FOR ASKING!! cant wait for his bday so i have better art to use as a header… his bday is 3 days before mine >///< almost bday twins!!

synopsis: just a handful of general headcanons i have for him. some are relationship, some are just him!! ^u^

contains: some spoilers for his background, gn reader, trauma related hcs, substance mention, and kink mentions.

wrio is the kind of guy to dance around subjects he has no interest in sharing. he won’t outright tell you not to ask and instead twist it back to you. a lot of “well, what do you think?” or “hm… have you checked with others?” it’s polite but also frustrating at times.

you may think he’s a dog person but he’s actually a cat kind of guy!! i can see him liking dogs for practical purposes but he enjoys cats more because he bonds better with them. what’s better than a cup of tea and a happy cat purring in your lap?

can shotgun any beverage no problem.

he collects tea obviously but he also collects mugs to go with them!! big cabinet!! if you’re ever stumped on what to get him as a gift, you can’t go wrong with a cute mug and tea.

can’t play any instruments and feels a bit insecure about it?? wrio feels like he should have some extra talents or hobbies such as music but he can’t play anything and doesn’t know where to start!! please teach him!!

his favourite dates are ones spent in secluded areas of the over world. on beaches or in small towns, he just likes being away from work and in privacy with you.

wrio does expect you to understand and accept his job. if you’re not okay with the way he runs things or prioritizes then, even if it hurts him, he’ll let you go the other way.

he’s not opposed to suggestions or changing the way things run but, if you want him to restructure everything or quit, then he’s saying goodbye.

MELTS for massages. between being hunched over a desk and boxing, he’s sore constantly. please massage him!!

his primary love language to give is words of affirmation. if you’re ever feeling insecure or unsure of something, wrio is quick to step in and praise you for the smallest things.

his favourite love language to receive is, somewhat surprisingly, physical touch.

he isn’t big on being touched in general or into the beginning of your relationship (part of the ptsd related to his past) but once he’s comfortable, he’ll perk up at even a graze of your fingertips. very much a deprived victorian maiden.

on the topic of his past i do see him as having ptsd. when he was younger, he had oppositional defiance disorder and struggled a lot with containing those emotions before and after his parents. being in prison i think it’s likely he had some substance problems at one point, alcohol or benzodiazepines maybe, but he’s gotten clean!!

i think he’s a total straight edge now except for smoking cigarettes. doesn’t drink or do any other drugs but just can’t seem to kick his smoking habit. he tries drinking tea instead of reaching for his cigs though!!

getting intimate… was a struggle for him at first.

it’s very vulnerable!! he isn’t a fan of that!! so you’ll have to take it slow with him at first.

once he’s warmed up to it and gotten into a rhythm with you, i see his top kinks being: restraints, receiving head/cock worship, creampies, spitting on you, and mild exhibitionism.

wrio has a solid length but is significantly girthy!! it’s a tough fit at first and your jaw always hurts sucking him off :(( but he gives you a good face fucking!! plus it means he can plug you full of cum real well!!

he’s got a teeny tiny secret idea about sharing you with neuvillette but shhh don’t tell him i told you…

[elliesleftboob]

maybe we have more in common than you think part 1

Warnings: more fluff and angst, but still 18+, cursing, dealer!ellie, mean!ellie, alcohol and weed usage.

As a kid you always loved dinosaurs, always expressing your love for them as you showed your parents fun facts about the Spinosaurus, but as you got older you lost your passion for it after Ellie fucking Williams bullied you for a presentation you had done in Highschool- you never liked Ellie but you were friends with Dina, Jesse, and Cat so you forced yourself to like her...

-

"hey" your roommate Dina says to get your attention, taking out your headphones you turn your attention away from the computer sitting in front of you. "Watcha doinggggggg?" Her voice hyped up, you knew she wanted something, she was always like this when she wanted something from you.

"what do you want?" You look up at her with a slightly worried expression, you never knew with her- last time she asked you for something was to go pick Ellie up after she had a panic attack on weed and she couldn't drive, but you wanted to see what she wanted.

"wanna come to Jesse's tonight?" She moves closer to toy with your hair- you sigh, whenever Dina was going to Jesse's to smoke, Ellie was there.

"will Ellie be there?" Your tone soft and slightly tired of asking this question.

"yeah but! So will Cat and I promise we'll make sure that she doesn't bug you"

You groan loudly.

"c'mon, you've been studying all day" Dina grabs the pillow and slams it on your back making you giggle loudly. "Fine-"

"yes! I love you!"

"yeah, yeah, lemme get ready" You get up and shower- keeping your hair down as you put on your baggy jeans, just mentally preparing yourself for the horror it is to sit in the same room with Ellie- memories crawling back to when you were younger

1 year ago -

"why do you even bother?" Ellie says to you, you turn your attention away from your phone to look at her "what?" you chuckle nervously.

"I mean like, you, yourself. Why even bother with college? you don't do anything anyways, always in your room doing fuck all"

You look at her in shock

"And you like dinosaurs still it's fucking childish" she laughs, tears swelling in your eyes as you look at your phone, she always does this when you're alone with her you think to yourself- "I- uh" your voice cracks "you fucking crying?" she frowns, you excuse yourself to the bathroom as you cry and cry, you weren't sure how long you had been crying for but obviously it was a long time.

"can I come in?" a familiar voice says, knocking at the door, you sniffle and unlock the door- eyes red from crying, nose red, and face flushed "Oh sweetie" Dina says, pulling you into a big hug, you sobbed in her arms for a few minutes before regaining yourself and calming down-

"what happened?" she says, Ellie looking at you and shaking her head, you knew she didn't want you to say so you just look at Dina and stay silent "ellie" you whisper, only loud enough for Dina to hear.

The rest of the night was silent, it was filled with Dina screaming at Ellie and telling her to stop bullying you and to stop being a dick, you always appreciated Dina but you felt like a little kid who couldn't defend themselves.

Present day

Yet again you are alone with Ellie in Jesse's living room when Dina went to get food with Jesse...

The silence was so loud

silence

silence

"you smoke?" Ellie says, trying to break the tension 'no' you quietly reply back.

"if you were wanna smoke, let me know" she looks at you "Ellie, what are you trying to do? If you want to bully me again just fucking say that instead of playing nice"

"I'm not, I'm trying to be nice Jesus" She lights her joint and you cover your nose as the smell of weed hits your nose-

more silence

Dina: sorry, it's taking so long- will be home in 15, everything going good with Ellie?

You: ya, she's tryna start a convo with me lol idk what to say

you turn your phone off and turn to Ellie, a very stoned Ellie who is looking at the lava lamp.

"you good?" you ask and she just laughs "yeah, man. I'm good"

you bite the inside of your cheek and nod, she turns her attention to you.

"Dinosaurs are cool man... I don't think i ever told you that shit" you giggle "what?"

"The Spinosaurus, that shit is sick! What's your favorite Dinosaur?"

this was unexpected, was it the weed? Maybe she wasn't a total bitch- but it's Ellie, too good to be true

"Uh, I'd say Stegosaurus or Triceratops, they're peaceful creatures- they mean no harm" you smile at Ellie and she moves closer, she's funny when she's high.

"I like the indoraptor" she blurts out, you frown "they are cool, dope as shit"

"that's.. Not a real dino els, it's a hybrid"

"the fuck is a hybrid?"

"I assume you watched Jurassic world part 1,2 and 3?" she nods "It's a hybrid of the Indominus rex and velociraptor genome" she nods even more, "interesting" she's lost in thought, you roll your eyes and chuckle.

"what's your number?" Ellie mumbles, the shock on your face, makes her blush slightly "pardon me?"

"What is your number" she says more clearly.... You think about it some more and give her your number- and that's how you started hanging out, she would come over to yours whenever Dina wasn't around or you'd go to hers when Jesse wasn't there- you'd watch her get high and play video games, just enjoying herself, you'd gossip about everything, for fuck sakes you even found out how much she loved Dinosaurs and talked to her about that or she'd ramble on about astrology, it felt like she was truly your friend until one night when Cat, Abby, Dina, Jesse, you and herself where all hanging out and Dina brought it up and Ellie denied it, you pulled her aside to talk to her.

"Ellie what the fuck?" she chuckles slightly as you manage to push her to the wall, obviously angry, she puts her hands on your shoulders to make you feel smaller "not like we were ever friends"

a:n, sorry it's so short! It's my first time writing in this fandom! Lmk if you want a part 2